1 Journey (1/2)
A relentless darkness had engulfed the heart of an old man who laid in the arms of a young boy on the sandy desert dune. The old man opened his mouth as he was about to utter his final words.
The boy tightened his grip on the old man's hand, he didn't cry, he didn't scream, he just looked at his grandfather with a calm gaze, as if he was trying to say, 'Everything will be fine'. The old man looked at how calm the young child was, and he was proud, but he was also afraid. The fear was not for himself, but for his grandson, he would be by himself in this harsh desert that was filled with dangers at every corner.
”Continue walking south, you will make it to a village, give my sword to the village chief, he will know what to do. ” The old man coughed before continuing.
”My time is at an end, but yours has just begun. Find a path Koren, do what I could not. Take my ring and prove…” The old man's voice stopped as the light in his eyes faded. The darkness had finally forced its way into his heart, his body hardened like rock and then turned into golden sand, passing through the fingers of the boy who held him.
”Find a path Koren, and do what I could not” the words of grandpa Kafai continued to echo in the mind of Koren. He looked at the golden sand that was his grandfather moments before, this was the fate of all those who take from the elements. His grandfather was an earth spiritualist, hence it was his time to return to the earth. Koren wanted to cry, but he could not, his dry, hazy eyes looked at the sand before doing a simple gesture. The sand simply blew away, as if carried by the wind. There was a ring in his hand, which was once worn by his grandfather. He tied it to a string and wore it around his neck. Then he looked at the sword that had been used as a cane. Koren tied the sword to his back along with his bag.
Koren did not cry, for his body was already a dried husk. His face did not show any emotion, he wasn't trying to be brave, nor was he heartless. He was simply incapable of expressing emotion, as his face was filled with burn scars. The surrounding skin had begun to pull together, resulting in a contracture. It was as if this boy of barely 9 years wore a stone mask on his face.
Koren continued the journey and started to walk south as told by his grandpa. The Blazing sun, the sweat and torrid heat of the sand on his bare feet did not hinder him. He walked as the memories of his short life played out.
Koren was born in the year of Hestur(horse), he was one of the lucky few able to harmonize with the wind spirits. Those who could harmonize with an elemental spirit were called spiritualists. His father's name was Ken Geist and he was an earth spiritualist, his mother's name was Amara and she was a normal human. His father owned a small sand ship which he used to ferry villagers to trade with other villages. He made good money which he brought back to his family of three. They lived in a little nomadic village of around 200 or so people. The village was so remote that it didn't even have an official name. Its residents just called it 'Sand village', due to its location in the Goliath desert. The village had a total of 4 spiritualist including Koren and his father.
Growing up Koren had a wonderful time with his loving mother, proud father and all the Villagers who adored him for his cute face. He would go to the oasis with his mother and the auntie's to bring the village water, he would play with the other children around his age, and he would practice his wind spiritualist abilities with the village chief Kafai, who was an earth spiritualist and also his mother's father, hence he fondly called him grandpa. The chief had seen other wind spiritualist and tried his best to teach Koren the basics. For a spiritualist to be born, elemental spirits in the surrounding must harmonize with him or her. There were mostly earth spirits in the massive Goliath desert, so it was very odd for Koren to be born as a wind spiritualist.
Koren had been walking for at least 4 hours, his feet felt sore even though he was using wind to lessen the burden and make his steps lighter. He was out of spiritual power and he was very thirsty. He took out a bag made out of Rafa skin (2 legged goat), and took a drink cautiously. There were only a few mouthfuls of water left in the bag. Koren tucked away the water bag and continued to walk, albeit at a slower pace as he had to recuperate his spiritual energy.
”Spiritualist are the guardians of all humans. It is our duty to protect the helpless from the elemental Beasts and the other races.” Koren drifted off into the memory of his first training session with Grandpa Kafai as he walked.
”Koren, you are the only spiritualist to be born in this generation. Learning the history of our people is very important.” Said the village chief as he held Koren who was only 4 years and 7 months old.
”We humans are nomadic, we have no permanent home. We change location every other generation. Our village is a small one, the bigger villages like the hometown of your father, have thousands of people. But even they will have to change location, this is because we as a race are weak.” Said village chief with a regretful look.
”In other races, like the Raavi, there is 1 spiritualist in every 10 Raavi born. Whereas we humans only have 1 spiritualist born in every 100. We can't compete with them for land and resources. If we were not nomads in the vast desert, we would have been forced to work for them. However, even though the Raavi treat us badly, they are still a peaceful race, unlike the Draconian's.” Said the village chief with a fearful look.
”That is why we must be careful, and work hard. With strength we can safely guide our people in the desert, and protect them from the sand beasts.” Said the village chief as he made a fist and the sand in the surrounding rose and turned into a spike. Then as the village chief opened his hand, the spike turned into a hand.