The Rising Sun: Episode 4 (5 page)

Ion drew his eyes back inside the hall and
looked at the other two. “You guys really are an achievement.”

“What?”

“The fact that Nyon survived for eight
thousand years, through all these tough times…” He shook his head.
“It’s nothing short of an achievement.”

Qyro gave a chuckle. “We all know it is.”

“But it’s not the achievement it should have
been, is it?” asked Vestra darkly.

“What do you mean?” asked Ion.

“The Nyon were meant to be far more than what
they are now.” said Vestra. “They were meant to keep the spectrum
under a blanket of peace and justice.” As she spoke, her gaze
carried out the window. “We were meant to be protectors of this
world. But at this point, at this fragmented state, we’re far from
it. We can hardly protect ourselves, can we?”

“Well, we’re doing our best.” Qyro
contradicted her. “And that’s more than we should afford right now.
At this anti mystic age. The masters go for missions to stomp out
trouble wherever we can.”

“And does it really make a difference?” asked
Vestra, raising an eyebrow as she looked at him. “The difference it
should
have been making?”

Ion thought she was rather making a point.
The glory of the Nyon in the day of the empire was well known.
Their efficient struggle against crime and evil was said to hold no
bars at all to the vastness of the entire spectrum. They were the
ones who helped guard and protect the empire single handedly,
moulding the spectrum into a state of peace like nothing before.
But now, they could hardly protect themselves from the Naxim. And
whatever feeble crime fighting they were pulling through … It was a
miserably futile affair in a world full of crime and injustice.

“And we’ve come to a stage where the masters
can barely step out for a mission.” continued Vestra. “The entire
brotherhood has found itself in the hitlist of the Naxim, and we’ve
hardly been able to touch most of the planets in the inner spectrum
since then. At this point,” She shrugged. “we could as well have
not existed. That’s the state we’ve been brought to now.”

“We’ve got have a lot of enemies to blame for
that.” said Ion.

“From the Naxim to the states of the inner
spectrum, we’ve got nothing but enemies.” said Qyro. He frowned
after a moment’s thought. “And we’ve just gotten a new one
recently.”

They moved on down the corridor, explaining
their current plight, and how they were barely able to perform the
duty that the Nyon had been meant for.

“Have the two of you been sent for missions,
much?” Ion asked them.

“Rarely.” said Vestra. “Even if they did, the
masters sent us for missions only for training purposes. To give us
experience.”

“But they make sure it isn’t more than we can
handle.” added Qyro, wearing a discontented scowl as he said it.
“They don’t wanna risk losing the two only students they’ve
got.”

“Except in the one exception that you just
saved us from.” said Vestra.

As they came upon the centre of the long
corridor, they headed into a small room by the left. Ion followed
them out the balcony’s door, and found himself standing in a large
platform stretching out from the end of the room. It was a balcony,
but unlike any Ion had seen before. The gigantic circular expansion
was so wide it could have been used for ship parking.

He saw a few cloaked figures spread out over
it, most of them training. Two of the pairs were practicing with
swords. Three of them sat at desolate corners, their eyes closed in
meditation. Gentle brushed of wind tousled Ion’s hair as he stood
in the enormous expanse.

“This is another place we train in.” Qyro
informed Ion. “My favourite one, as a matter of fact.”

“We also use it for meditating and a host of
other things,” Vestra said, gesturing to the meditating
figures.

“Yeah, so it could get a little crowded at
points,” said Qyro, raising both hands to gesture to the masters
around them. “like it is now.”

Ion scanned the large balcony, watching all
of the Nyon keenly engrossed in their own working.

“But we usually come here at the early
morning,” went on Qyro. “to start the training. And that’s usually
when there’s no one at all around. So we have the whole place for
ourselves. I remember learning it all here.”

He swung his hands in a wild wave. A heat
wave like disturbance burst from the air in front of him, gliding
past the balcony and then disappearing beyond it.

“Oh, come on, the
smash
is amateur
stuff.” said Vestra, shaking her head. “Some of the masters here
can conjure a
blaze
.”

“A blaze?” asked Qyro, turning to her.

“It means to conjure fire out of thin air.”
she explained. “It’s one of the hardest mystical fighting devices,
and can usually be done only in extreme pressure.”

Ion looked past the balcony for a moment. A
gruesome, twisting sensation had seized his insides. He heaved a
deep breath, steadying himself. For a few seconds, he silently
watched the duel between one of the sword pairs: a middle aged
Elfling and a Blackling. The two of them were locked in a rapid
dance of orange lights: they moved faster than humanely possible,
their ignited swords swirling like ropes of fire. Sparks burst
around them as their swords clashed repeatedly.

Ion couldn’t help feel a silent awe at the
mindblowing skill that they displayed. The three disciples let
their attention divert to the duel for a few quiet minutes,
watching as it slowly dragged itself to the centre of balcony,
growing tenser. It carried on for what felt like ten minutes, with
neither of them letting their prowess slacken even a bit. The black
fur on the Blackling rippled as he jumped, dodged, ducked and
struck wildly at his opponent, who fought back just as
aggressively. The two of them moved so fast, they almost seemed to
flick from spot to spot, their motions a blur and their ignited
swords spinning in a frenzy.

The Blackling’s blade swept around in a wild
slash that would have taken his opponent’s head off, if he hadn’t
leapt back in a split second’s notice. But the Elfling recovered
from the staggering motion in the slightest effort, lunging forth
with a snarl on his face … his sword shining in brilliant orange. A
steely
cling
sounded, and the Blackling’s sword was sent
flying off: The Elfling’s blade had clipped it by the bottom and
wrenched it from the man’s hold. The Blackling’s eyes, for the
meanest second, had followed his sword as it went twisting into the
air. But the very next second, before he could complete a flinch,
the Elfling’s sword was held before his neck.

A faint patter of clapping ensued from some
of the masters around who’d been watching this. The two masters
concluded their training duel with a deep bow, before the Blackling
picked his sword back up and sheathed it.

Qyro turned to Ion with a grin. “Believe me,
you haven’t seen duelling until you’ve seen Mantra duel.”

“Mantra?” Ion needed a moment to construct a
mental scene of the elderly master dancing around with an ignited
sword. “Is he good?”

“Good?” asked Vestra, smiling. “He’s the best
there is.”

“You’d be surprised if I told you have the
tricks he’s got up his sling.” said Qyro.

Ion shrugged. “Well, he’s eight thousand
years old.”

“Yeah, compare that to the few years we’ve
trained.” said Qyro. “I’ve been here for just over a year, and the
few years before as a stray mystic could hardly count.”

“Why’s that?” asked Ion.

Qyro’s gaze went far off for a moment, as if
in memory, and a dark look shadowed his red furred features.

“Those were dangerous days.” he said quietly.
“Before I joined the Nyon, my earlier master, Tralgor was all I
knew. And we were two stray mystics wandering about the outer
spectrum.” He paused for another moment’s thought. “The regions of
the outer spectrum, as we went about it, was less friendly than you
could actually believe. Apart from just trying to evade the Naxim
constantly, we ran into a load of other deadly ventures. And we
couldn’t have come close to dying any less than a dozen times.”

“Sounds like the type of thing you would’ve
loved.” said Ion honestly.

“Of course I did.” admitted Qyro. “And I’ve
gotta hand it, despite all the fear, all the dread and uncertainty
back then, the thrill of it compensated for it all.”

“Thrill?” asked Vestra, with an amused laugh.
“Trying to not to be found and killed by the Naxim every single
day? That should have been wonderfully thrilling.”

“What’s the fun in life without a little
risk?” asked Qyro, shrugging. “As my master used to say. The two of
us used to have a blast throughout. Through all those dangerous
instances that could’ve turned real painful.”

Ion found it evident that Qyro’s blatant love
for adventure and danger was something he had found from his
earlier master.

“Tell us about one of these adventures of
yours.” said Vestra.

Qyro thought for a second, and then looked at
her with a wild grin. “I’ve got one you won’t believe.” He shifted
his gaze from her to Ion. “Try running into a bunch of Ensys.”

“Ensys?” hissed Vestra, the bright look on
her face dying into one of shock.

Ion knew that the Ensys were one of the many
non man being species. And among non man beings, they were among
the more dreaded and feared ones. But as Mantra had said earlier,
they had gone completely off the known portion of the spectrum
after the onslaught of Redgarn’s empire. “But where’d you find
them?”

“We didn’t.” Qyro shook his head.
“
They
found us. They move very rarely, but in one of the few
times they did, we crossed them in a planet, Halios, far out into
the outer spectrum. It’s pretty close to where they actually hide.
But when they crossed us, we met their leader, Rigmrr.”

“Rigmrr?” Ion cocked an eyebrow.

But Qyro shuddered, the light in his face now
fading. “Oh, believe me … he was a nasty one. He was the Ensys’
complete, sovereign King. We found out that much. They completely
abide and go by him. He’s like their god. And one mean god that
was. And the fact that he was ailing with an incurable disease
didn’t make him and the monsters in his command any friendlier.” He
shuddered again, and a frown contracted his brow. “Non man beings
are all the same wad of trouble that you don’t actually need to go
looking for.”

Something in his features betrayed a sense of
cold anger at this subject of non man beings. Though Ion found it
rather curious, he knew Qyro couldn’t be blamed for it: apart from
being inhuman in their physical forms, the non man beings were
beastly and slightly dangerous as well, at times. Fear and hatred
of them was shared and common to all people of the spectrum.

Qyro now fixed his attention on the other
duel taking place across the other side of the large balcony.

“After spending an entire life of hiding and
running, I can tell you this,” he said, as he watched the duel.
“This is home.”

He turned to Vestra, who stood gazing past
the forest beyond the balcony. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

Still looking past the forests, Vestra gave a
soft sigh. “I would love to. But I haven’t spent my entire life
running and hiding, unlike you. This was my home all along.”

“Of course not. I forgot.” said Qyro,
bringing his attention back to the other duel across the
balcony.

It was between two younger looking masters,
probably in their thirties. One of them was a species he couldn’t
identify, with a violet skin colour, while the other was an
Iveling. Their motions were considerably slower than the earlier
one, but they were a sight to watch nevertheless as their orange
swords spun wildly, clashing and sparking.

But Ion wasn’t watching it: he turned to
Vestra, frowning, as the implication of what she had just said
fully registered.

“So you … weren’t a mystic when before you
joined the Nyon?”

Vestra said nothing for a few seconds, and
Ion wondered if she hadn’t heard him. Then she slowly brought her
gaze to him.

“No, I wasn’t.” she said. “I came here to
become one.”

Ion felt a second of confusion as he worked
his way around what he had heard. Then, shock overran the
confusion.

“You mean…” he said slowly. “you mean you
chose
to become a mystic?”

Vestra was quiet for a second, her gaze still
lost in the wilderness spreading beyond the balcony.

“It wasn’t an overly easy choice, you could
say.” she said with a broken chuckle.

Ion felt his own gaze drift to the forests as
well. The fact that a person chose this life … chose this path, a
path filled with nothing but dangers, darkness and uncertainties, a
path that was dreaded and hated by the rest of the world, left him
startled.

He remembered what Qyro had told him earlier
on in the cruiser, of Vestra approaching and joining the Nyon. When
it usually happened the other way around.