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Dave/Blitzballer's post
The crumbling stone that was falling towards the ground and repeatedly pounding the shield that had surrounded Rekka was having its impact. The stone that had once been erected in place to house a Temple dedicated to light was now being plunged into darkness. Collapsing inwards around both Sarakon and Rekka, it signified the battle between the two- not just of the strength they had, but also their will and conviction. It was Sarakons strength that had brought the, albeit weak, structure to fall around them. Yet it was Rekkas will, encapsulated in his shield, that was holding off the seemingly inevitable at bay. The marble floor below Rekkas body shifted. It too was bearing the brunt of being continually pounded upon by the falling stone. Plumes of smoke rose where rock met the floor as it broke. As if this didn’t obscure Rekkas view enough, he could feel blood oozing from his forehead down his right eye, down his cheek and dropping upon the floor. Ironically it fell upon the pool of blood that had formed from the various injuries Rekka had sustained as he had hurriedly erected the shield to cushion the blow, for a while, of the falling ceiling. Rekka was still half kneeling upon the floor, with his right leg, bent at the knee on the floor supporting him as both his hands grasped Vaporil in front of him. Rekka was holding Vaporil with the hilt of the blade in the air and the blade itself pointing towards the ground- with the tip entrenched in a visible crack that had formed in the floor. It provided the ideal place for support too but worried Rekka. He knew that it would not be long before a gaping wound in the earth would be formed. Yet it was the gaping wound that was blatantly visible on his left leg. His left knee was in the air with his foot firmly planted on the floor. A mixture of minute stone, rubble, flesh and blood had pooled in the lowest part of Rekkas thigh, which had bore the brunt of the rock as it fell on a downwards tangent to the place it resided at Rekkas feet now. It had pooled because of the way Rekkas left leg was positioned. It had ripped and mangled flesh, revealing bone. The shock of this made Rekkas nervous system out of kilter. Blood had coursed through his body much faster than usual, trying to somehow replace that which had been lost, culminating in the thick jet of dark crimson liquid spraying from the top of his left knee, lower thigh. It had stained the floor of the Temple and Rekka had left a mark that wasn’t quite the impact he had had in mind. The shattering of the stain glass windows which were forced out of their place be the collapsing church, almost seemed to depict in Rekkas mind the fragility of humanity. In the various pictures in the glass were significant moments of history, great battles and famous people. In a few moments Rekka knew this place would be no more:
What will future generations learn if there is nothing to teach and learn from? How can people aspire to be without the guidance that can be sought from seeking out the past isn’t there?
All that Rekka held sacred would be lost if Sarakon triumphed on this day. There were other Temples but not one so highly sacred and tantamount to the faith that people so passionately believed in. Rekka knew he had to perform to the abilities he had aspired to in the Coliseum. He had been young and naïve that day yet had managed to survive an encounter with the foe before him. He was now stronger and believed in his inner strength. His untapped power had become awakened. Even if the Temple fell and were reduced to rubble, which in all likelihood would occur, a new Temple could be reborn in its exact place- if Rekka prevailed. Sarakon would undoubtedly obliterate the immediate landscape of all traces of this place. Rekka tightly gripped the handle of Vaporil and closed his eyes, inhaling deeply and exhaling through his nose as he summoned the courage to stand once more. The shattering of glass, the crumbling of stone and marble and the failing strength of the shield that cushioned the blows of falling rubble resounded in his ear drums, heightening the realisation that Rekka would have to act now. As Rekka concentrated, he felt awash with the feel of invigoration. The pain that had blighted him so much on his left knee had lessened. He felt as if he was drawing on the holy aura that had once resided in the collapsing walls. Rekka realised the reason that Sarakon had acted upon collapsing the Temple. It was a source of strength, not just metaphorically but also physically:
An animal is most vicious after a severe injury.
Sarakon had unwittingly provided Rekka with a sense of empowerment. Rekka had remembered how Sarakon had healed a gaping wound in the Coliseum with his mere mindpower- drawing on the malicious environment of the arena, a place of Death. A smile broke on the face of Rekka, despite what he surveyed:
You’re on my turf now Sarakon.
Somewhat amazingly Rekka unclenched his hands from Vaporil, the source of so much power, and took a step back, returning to an upright standing position. His feet seemed to glide in position due to the blood on the floor, yet this did not deter Rekka from his somewhat bolder exterior. The shield vanished, its job completed as only dust and small pieces of rubble now fell. Rekka tilted his head back and saw the sky above- strangely it seemed a welcome sight. A slight breeze funnelled down upon Rekka and toyed with his hair and clothes, almost billowing. The refreshing wind renewed Rekka, as he clenched both of his fists as his arms lay either side of him. With an almost coquettish touch, he cracked the knuckles on his right hand:
Sarakon I see also uses a sword with such magnificent strength within it
This thought came to Rekkas mind as he saw Sarakons own ‘defence’ against the danger and peril of standing within a collapsing Temple. Rekka had to admire the agility of such an awesome figure. Sarakon it seemed had ascended above the falling masses of rubble, although injuring himself. Remaining columns began falling and teetering to and fro, holding parts of the wall and ceiling perilously in place. As his foe burst through the collapsing ceiling, Rekka knew that the many years of the landmark Temple were coming to an end in a few seconds. Huge blocks bowed to gravity and plummeted to earth, a column fell too and as it impacted upon the floor, it sent a shockwave towards Rekka. The gaping wound in the floor became bigger- as if the earth was forming a mouth, a cry of pain at the total disregard that such a being as Sarakon had against Nature. Vaporil wavered at the shockwaves too, as it stood resolutely steadfast in its position:
It is too late to save the Temple and for that I am sorry. Yet for every Sarakon, there is a Rekka. Though he may destroy buildings, he cannot change my will and convictions. Our standpoints are different and because of this I will meet him face to face. He leaves destruction and fear in his wake. He will never stop unless he is challenged.
Rekka was unconcerned with the collapsing Temple. His side of the Temple had already fell in on itself and he had survived, albeit with the help of magic. He looked on in sadness as the last fragments of the temple plummeted and crashed upon the floor, sending a wisp of cloud and powder into the air. Fortunately, the now open environment mingled with this view obscuring nuisance and the wind swirled around the debris, blowing the smoke away. Rekka looked at a small piece of broken stain glass that lay among the debris. It depicted a scene that Rekka could not remember learning of. It was of two figures locked in combat, as the world crumbled around them. Rekka looked up, becoming more aware of his surroundings, now that the cloud of smoke had begun to disappear, a shadowy figure loomed ominously. Rekkas eyes fell once more on the piece of glass. Strangely it depicted the symbol of a sun in full bloom. Rekkas face contorted somewhat in sheer shock and surprise. He shook his head in astonishment and thought nothing more of it:
I must have imagined it. I will concern myself with it at a later date.
He composed himself and returned to the figure that obscured his path. As he scanned in front of him, Vaporil was itching to be gripped once more as it had remained in its position in the ground, then there was the debris of the Temple, with the widening gap that had been created in the earth. Layers of rubble and strewn debris lay all around Rekka and blotted the topography of the land. Sarakon lay in wait on the other side.
Anger welled up inside of him. Forgetting his training for a second, Rekka began to break into a run- to reclaim his sword. Instantly, a sharp pain reverberated around his mind, stopping him in his tracks. Tens, thousands of voices streamed in his mind, signifying all the people that had passed through the doors of the Temple. Screams of agony were mixed with prayers of hope and faith. Rekka brought his right hand to the side of his head, gripping tightly with his fingers, as the pain became unbearable. He felt himself doubling over. He made the palms of both of his right and left hands cover his respective left and right ears, as if it would somehow stop the pain. Visions of past, not of his, but of significant events in the history of Illuminar, the Temple and the faith flooded his mind- making them his memories. The countless voices stopped, the pain resided and Rekka was left a single voice that lingered with him. The voice was familiar:
What has happened here had been destined to occur since the day you were born. You do not need a Temple to signify your strength. Avenge what the Abomination has done with the power that you have always had.
The stain glass that littered the landscape and were mingled with the debris emitted a white hue that brightened and hummed in the air. Suddenly light beamed out from the pieces, absorbing and erasing that pictures that they had once contained and swirled around in the ether around Rekka, as if questioning whether this figure was worthy. Rekka closed his eyes expecting the worst. Instantaneously, the beams arched towards Rekka from all angles, passing through him many times, filling him with the knowledge, power and strength of the Temple, Illuminar and awakening Rekkas inner qualities. It was as if Rekka was becoming as powerful as the one that stood in his way now. As the beams passed through him, the visions that were on the glass windows flashed through his mind. It did not cause any pain this time. The spirits of the dead- their values, beliefs- would linger on in Rekka.
Rekkas eyes opened, with fire dancing in his iris. His eyes flashed with the same confidence one comfortable with his own abilities has. He extended his right arm towards Vaporil, and gritted his teeth. He outstretched his four fingers and thumb on his right hand as if he was straining to do something. In his mind, he pictured Vaporil returning to his hands. He closed his eyes and fell into a deep concentration. He heard Vaporil waver in its entrenched position in the ground, yet there was no wind around him. Vaporil was violently shaking now. Rekkas eyes opened and he saw the veins on his right hand near the surface of his skin, his neck also showing the same signs, as veins bulged. His right hand began to shake with the stress of what was occurring. Sparks flew around the hilt of Vaporil as it became dislodged from its place. It unerringly flew through the air and looked to be returning to its master’s hands. Just as it seemed it would, Rekka broke his concentration. The strain was unbearable and Vaporil landed at his feet instead. Rekka let out a huge breath of exhaustion:
What’s going on? How am I able to do this? What else is possible?
He bent down and brought Vaporil to his eyes, with the hilt near his eyes, and the blade pointing skywards. He composed himself as he began to try and comprehend what had just occurred:
SARAKON
Rekka screamed in a voice that resounded around him and with a greater emphasis than it ever had done before. He let go of Vaporil with his left hand and wielded Vaporil with his right almost effortlessly. He arched the blade right handed from in front of his eyes diagonally to his right hand side, pointing beside him:
"No longer am I the naïve young samurai you met at the Coliseum. You have destroyed this temple but you will not destroy or break me. ‘Til the worlds end, whatever dimension I will hunt you down and challenge you. Show your true self to me this day…do not hold back."
Rekka watched the landscape around him. Sarakon would respond. He would be ready. |
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Bastard
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