A flash in the distance signalled the impending storm, though it did not bother the only person on the planet who saw it.
Standing on a jagged cliff reaching out of the mountain, the cloaked figure studied the darkening landscape. His keen eyes saw the jutting peaks of the surrounding mountains and the rolling hills of the valley below. The river that ran through the valley dipped after several miles, becoming a roaring waterfall that fell out of sight, toward the distant forest.
The man’s focus shifted inwards. He delved deep within himself, finding his centre the way he’d been taught so many years before. The cool ripples of rejuvenation washed over him, his entire being tingling.
The weariness of several hours of gruelling training partially subsided. His defined arms glistened with sweat, and he stood now with his shirt sticking to him, his heavy cloak billowing in the refreshing wind. He ran a gauntleted hand under the thick scarfs that connected the cloak, letting the cool air touch his sweaty neck. Long strands of blond hair stuck to his forehead, the rest flapping in the wind.
He raised his arms out, closing his eyes, and slowly brought his hands together over his head. Deep breaths followed long exhalations. He focused.
The wind calmed and a near silence fell upon the cliff.
In the emptiness of his mind, a beach reluctantly appeared before him. A shapely figure in a white dress stood against the backdrop of the sun rising over the shimmering ocean. Her flowing hair sparkled as she turned to him. A surge of energy undulated through him and the scene washed away before he could focus on the woman’s face.
A blank white world filled his mind instead. Void of all emotion. The place he wanted to be.
In one swift motion he thrust his arms down, bringing his fists to his sides and widening his stance. A sphere of luminous green energy expanded from him, sending waves of light flowing outward. Dust clouds and chips of rock blew out and joined the dissipating energy.
Reinvigorated, he now focused his eyes and traced a path through the darkening landscape.
He reached behind his belt and brought out his grapple hook, thumbing the metallic grooves and indentations on the archaic device. When his thoughts shifted, he changed his mind and re-clipped the grapple hook. He would begin the final stretch of training without it. While a grapple hook was an extension of an Oneron, and the most critical tool they could implement, it was also good not to rely on it so much.
Taking a controlled breath, he leapt off the mountain, aiming high and soaring through the air. The cooling air rushed through him.
When he fell and met the mountain, he sprung off it and continued his descent, parallel to the declining rock. Pushing off a second time, he twisted and rolled in the air, rocketing down to the valley. Despite the height he’d covered, he landed with ease, as solid as a dart finding its target.
Without pause he sprinted forward, running and leaping through the rolling hills. He pushed himself harder, giving everything he had in each step and jump as he came to the glistening river. Throwing his arms out, he launched himself over the wide river and soared for several seconds, spinning in the air before he landed and rolled on the other side.
Sprinting again, a wave of white energy trailed behind him now as he gathered strength and momentum. He darted through the dim landscape in jagged bursts of jumps, runs and dives, his shining form covering ground like lightning spreading through the land.
When he jumped powerfully into the air, he gathered his Spirit power and channelled his focus into a cloud of white energy below him, and felt the air under his feet solidify. His eyes squeezed shut, but he reminded himself to focus with them open; to clear his mind and let the Spirit magic flow through him. It wasn’t like drawing other elemental magics.
His feet pressed against the white disc below him, and he used it to launch himself further up, where he sailed out in the open air. It felt like he was lost in his own world up in the air like that, where the nearest planetary object was several kilometres away. For a few seconds, it was just him and the sky.
As he fell, he searched deep within him to find his footing in the air again. He pushed off with all his might, with a cry of exhaustion escaping him. He may have moved a few feet further, or slowed somewhat, he wasn’t sure, but he definitely hadn’t accomplished the Spirit Jump this time. He told himself to double his mediation later as he fell back to the world.
When he came to the side of a jutting rock, he slid down the side for a moment before throwing himself off and landing back to the valley. The roaring crashes of the waterfall reached him as he approached the end of the river.
Without hesitation, he dove over the water and aiming his fall to glide parallel to the coruscating waves. A smile formed as he closed his eyes, the sprays of water and foam refreshing him. When he opened them, his trained eyes spotted the tree branch jutting from the water fifty feet or so to his right.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Though he had only seconds to act, it was more than enough time for him. His hand flashed and the grapple hook burst from the handle, tearing past the waves. It found its mark with ease, gripping the sturdy branch.
The cable became taught, and gripping the handle with both hands he let the momentum carry him onwards. He swung along the waterfall in a wide arc, the waves crashing around him. He swung up and rose higher, where he released the hook’s claw and allowed the momentum to shoot him into the air. As the retracting hook snapped back into the handle, he closed his eyes and savoured the moment, enjoying the calm of soaring through the air.
Falling from a jump was one thing, but flying up from a grapple hook swing was something else entirely. The feelings of soaring high above the world were some of the sincerest expressions of his soul, but he could have shed a tear at that moment for the deeper longing that festered within him.
He cleared his mind, creating a white canvas once again.
The ground reached up to him fast. He knew he should cushion the fall with another swing and ease himself down, but he saw the challenge and decided to take the impact, seeing it as part of his everlasting training.
He met the ground hard, digging his boots into the grass and pushing off again, rolling and flailing his arms as he came to a stuttering stop. Though his legs ached and were somewhat shaken, he thought he handled the landing well enough. Anyone else would have surely berated him for even considering making such a landing.
The thought brought a grimace. Anyone else…
Beyond small traces of life forms, there was no other living being on the entire planet. He sighed, knowing it was better this way.
While he recovered, his large shoulders heaving and his breaths heavy, he became aware of a ship breaching the atmosphere. He spotted the moving object through the mottled grey and black sky. The spacecraft may have worried him for a second, although he knew it could only be one person.
The dark speck approached his position, its landing lights visible now, and the humming of its engines reached him on the wind. He smiled at the familiar silver craft, its sloping front arching away from the curved wings lined with lights.
Ghannim had finally returned.
How long had he been away? He couldn’t be sure.
The cloaked man’s heart raced now as he considered what his mentor had to say.
With a thunderous thrum the sleek craft touched down, sending waves of ripples through the dark grass and shaking the trees on the edge of the forest.
When the back platform lowered, he saw the familiar canter of his long-time friend descending the ramp.
Ghannim was dressed in his old heavy coats, battered and worn from many years of use. Throwing back his large hood, the bearded Serien’s mess of white hair wavered in the wind. Cold grey eyes studied the man ahead of him, a corner of his mouth rising under his beard.
“Welcome back,” the cloaked man said, his voice strained from training. It had been a long time since he’d spoken.
“Good to see you keeping in shape, old man,” Ghannim drawled in his deep baritones.
“A few hundred years ahead of me, and I’m the old man.”
“Well that would make me an old Serien, wouldn’t it?”
“Semantics, you ancient fool,” he goaded with a large grin. “Remember that word?”
Ghannim grumbled with a furrowed brow, his squinting eyes falling over the land. “I like what you have done with the place.”
A moment passed before the cloaked man said, “You’re stalling now.”
Ghannim sighed; a great rumble. Their eyes met. “I have news.”
“You left to find news.”
The longer the old alien studied him, the more the cloaked man began to worry; a deep, crippling anxiety that threatened to overwhelm him. “Just tell me.” His voice faltered. If it was good news, Ghannim would have said so by now.
“I found him,” Ghannim eventually said. His voice was so low with apprehension it was close to inaudible.
“Aye, and…?”
Another hesitation. “I saw James.”
The man considered this. “James no longer exists.”
Ghannim’s stern eyes held him close. “He has been awoken.”
Moments passed with the cloaked man frozen in terror. He finally managed to speak. “Tell me exactly what you mean.”
With a sorrowful sigh, Ghannim said, “He was recognised. Somehow. And now he is known.”
“Recognised? How in the blasted Corrupt was he recognised? He should’ve been no one to recognise!”
Ghannim rested a hand on the man’s broad shoulder. “Hayden.”
A howl carried on the wind that whipped around them. The only light now came from the ship, the rest of the land hidden in darkness.
“Listen to me,” Ghannim went on. “James is returned to us. He still does not retain personal memories. But… Den Keenosh has spoken with him.”
Hayden Island cursed under his breath. Taking a moment to compose himself, he realised that Den did the right thing.
“How…” his voice trembled, as did his body. “How is he? You saw him?”
“I did,” Ghannim said soothingly. “In fact, I made him my Holguri stew.”
Hayden blinked incredulously. “Excuse me? You knew that my son had been awakened and instead of telling me straight away, you sat down for a meal with him? What did you say to him?”
“Nothing more than I had to. I assure you, he was not alarmed by my presence. The son you had is still gone.”
At this, tears streamed down Hayden’s face. Grimacing, he mastered himself, though couldn’t meet the Serien’s eyes. “I… what do we do now?”
“We go to him. We tell him everything. It is too dangerous for him to continue without knowing the truth.”
An image flashed in Hayden’s mind. That of James, bloodied and dying. “I can’t.”
“Hayden, your son needs you.”
Letting out a deep breath, Hayden retreated within. He had thought of this moment for so long, but had hoped it would never come. “I know.”
“Then we go to him.”
Hayden reluctantly nodded. He hesitated before asking his next question. “And what of my other son?”
Ghannim’s heavy brows lowered. “He has yet to surface.”
Hayden shivered, feeling the weight of his pain overwhelm him. He sagged, almost falling, and Ghannim took him by the arm.
“You are overworked. Come. Let us rest inside. We have a long journey ahead of us.”
Hayden Island let himself be led onto the awaiting ship, a numbness overcoming him.
As the warmth of the ship attempted to thaw the chill in his bones, he realised he’d never been more scared in his life.
He was going to meet his son again. For the first time.
End of The Awakening of James Island
Continued in Book Two: Echoes of the Past
Final overall thoughts on this book?
