10-26-2014, 01:05 AM
“Cho...” Beginnings. Sunrise. “Nen...” Contemplation. Meditation. “Kan...” Honor. “Ze...” Respect. “On...” Integrity.
“Bo...” Endings. Sunset. “Nen...” Reflection. Reminiscence. “Kan...” Celebrated. “Ze...” Legacy. “On...” Established.
Air sparked with charged energy. It was almost time. The zenith of the chanting become long drawn out sounds, almost musical, still able to distinguish the syllables of each word. “Nen...” Purple illumination gave way to blue, small arcs of electricity dancing around the three figures. “Nen...” One shape took a new sitting position. Two knees tucked under, hands on thighs, head bowed in reverence. “Ju...” The candles flickered and died, casting the chamber in the growing light of the object in the center. “Shin...” All three spoke as one, in sync, harmonizing and creating an all enveloping sound that filled the space they shared. “Ki...” The arm extended, hand clutching the powerful emblem in the center, pulling it close as they continued their chanting.
The one who played mediator stood slowly. Moving very precisely as though each contraction of their muscles were a part of the ritual. In their hand a weapon. A long blade, reflecting the glow and energy of the relic. Long. Curved. Sharp. “Nen...” The final one remained seated in their original position. Putting all their spirit into each word. “Nen...” The one holding the relic lifted it high, sparks running between the old and new figures. This too was a weapon. An ancient one. Imbued with millennia of power and soul. Cursed for those with impure intentions. The weapon was turned toward the one holding it. “Fu...” The sound drowned out the crackling of energy, their chanting now the loudest within the chamber, becoming deafening. Roaring. Exploding. “Ri...” In one swift movement the holy weapon pierced the old one. Ritualistic robes slashed. Flesh pierced. Organs run through. So finely accurate that the spine was neatly cut as the weapon slipped out the back. The mediator held their blade high, preparing the death blow as they all continued the chant. Yet this ritual was not meant to be completed as the Gods had something else planned. In a bright flash, far brighter than the light emitting from the sacred weapon, the old one was gone. The sacrifice gone. The balance...upset.
“Shi...” His eyes opened. The spiritual energy completely void. White surrounded him. He was not in the throes of exquisite death. He was alive. Realization dawned. “iiiiiiiiiit...”
“Bo...” Endings. Sunset. “Nen...” Reflection. Reminiscence. “Kan...” Celebrated. “Ze...” Legacy. “On...” Established.
Air sparked with charged energy. It was almost time. The zenith of the chanting become long drawn out sounds, almost musical, still able to distinguish the syllables of each word. “Nen...” Purple illumination gave way to blue, small arcs of electricity dancing around the three figures. “Nen...” One shape took a new sitting position. Two knees tucked under, hands on thighs, head bowed in reverence. “Ju...” The candles flickered and died, casting the chamber in the growing light of the object in the center. “Shin...” All three spoke as one, in sync, harmonizing and creating an all enveloping sound that filled the space they shared. “Ki...” The arm extended, hand clutching the powerful emblem in the center, pulling it close as they continued their chanting.
The one who played mediator stood slowly. Moving very precisely as though each contraction of their muscles were a part of the ritual. In their hand a weapon. A long blade, reflecting the glow and energy of the relic. Long. Curved. Sharp. “Nen...” The final one remained seated in their original position. Putting all their spirit into each word. “Nen...” The one holding the relic lifted it high, sparks running between the old and new figures. This too was a weapon. An ancient one. Imbued with millennia of power and soul. Cursed for those with impure intentions. The weapon was turned toward the one holding it. “Fu...” The sound drowned out the crackling of energy, their chanting now the loudest within the chamber, becoming deafening. Roaring. Exploding. “Ri...” In one swift movement the holy weapon pierced the old one. Ritualistic robes slashed. Flesh pierced. Organs run through. So finely accurate that the spine was neatly cut as the weapon slipped out the back. The mediator held their blade high, preparing the death blow as they all continued the chant. Yet this ritual was not meant to be completed as the Gods had something else planned. In a bright flash, far brighter than the light emitting from the sacred weapon, the old one was gone. The sacrifice gone. The balance...upset.
“Shi...” His eyes opened. The spiritual energy completely void. White surrounded him. He was not in the throes of exquisite death. He was alive. Realization dawned. “iiiiiiiiiit...”