Chapter 9

Stirring the Slumbering Dragon

The Griffin had Azon trapped under his talon-like claws, and the thought of escape would be difficult. The one eyed griffin knew if it could kill the strongest person within the group, the rest would be easy.

However, Azon wasn’t going to go down without a good fight. He didn’t want to use this last resort technique, but here he had no choice. Out of the two secret techniques Azon’s body had been trained to use, this second one was the strongest.

The Crimson Claw was a very powerful technique when the fingers of the user were trained to an extreme. Yet there was another technique, called the Piercing Wave, which utilized the entire strength of the hand. This technique used the fingers for piercing, knuckles for grinding, and fist for power.

Striking the center of the claw, Azon put all his power into his fingers and thrust them forward. He gathered the air nearby with his thrust, and positioned the fingers close together, but made sure they were not touching as he struck out.

As soon as they pierced through the claw the griffin, the power of the air that he gathered helped break the surrounding surface. In a swift motion before his fingers were even a centimeter deep, he quickly curled his hand inwards and used the might of his knuckles to grind the flesh.

Then he immediately closed his hand into a fist and channeled the remaining air to do a combination of what the Crimson Claw technique does with force of the Resonation punch.

The Crimson Claw technique condenses the wind into five separate individual and powerful streams to cut through the weak tissue. But the Resonation punch causes the air to vibrate and blow the innards of a victim outwards.

Therefore this technique had five separate streams of wind vibrating and pushing everything in its path outwards. The effect was five separate explosions from within the griffin’s claw simultaneously, blowing to pieces the talon that trapped him.

Although this technique seemed to take a long time, it happened very fast, and the griffin had no time to react. With its front leg missing a talon to support it, the creature collapsed on the ground as a cripple.

Azon had used a lot of mental power in the concentration of that technique and the backlash from it was immense as well. A head splitting headache ensued and blood trickled out from his nose.

The griffin was in a weakened state now though, and Azon knew he had to finish it off. So gathering his remaining strength, he unsheathed the sword on his side and used the combination of a speed technique to supply ample force, and a limb strengthening technique to stiffen the resolve of the blade.

In a clean stab, he pierced through the skull of the monster and finished it off. Then he slumped down on the ground and lay there exhausted against the corpse of the beast.

Although the beast was now dead, the men were scattered and the magician was nowhere to be found. It would take at a considerable amount of time to find and regroup the men, if they were still alive, and not already food for other wild beasts.

In the back of Azon’s mind, he knew the wish to return before Ornias turned seven was shattered. Sure enough, it took a full three weeks to find Greystorm, Vanrus, and ten other remaining men, get them back together, and arrive at Fengles Grove.

Once they did arrive however, all three men gathered inside the room with Ornias and began to make preparations for the healing ritual. They did this by placing highly concentrated elemental essence fragments around his comatose body.

Greystorm had to not only heal what was damaged, but he had to know the extent of the damage to do so. The only method to do this was to delve into the mind of Ornias with a mental connection between him and Greystorm.

In order to form a mental connection to Ornias, Greystorm had to impart a fragment of his mind into the healing process. So he combined his mental consciousness with the healing formation, and a form of energy with a blend the two was created. The energy swirled around the room and formed into a cloud. This cloud was a light bluish color and was semi-transparent.

Concentrating on the energy cloud, Greystorm willed it to condense and flow into the head of Ornias. Now that the guided healing process was under way, Greystorm could take a look at the condition of the mind he was working on.

This was not easy, and sweat dripped off his brow, as he said, “His mind is in utter disarray, I’m surprised he is still alive.”

Fear clutched Azon, a tight knotted sensation occurred in his stomach. This was because news of the worst possible situation was what he almost expected to hear next, the failure of his son’s trial.

Yet, surprise suddenly appeared on Greystorm’s face, and he said, “What’s this? Your son has actually reached the second rank of a warrior. The damage to his mind appears only related to the third rank, because he can no longer communicate with the muscles in his body.”

Azon remained hopeful with this news, and asked, “You can still help him right?”

A pained expression appeared on Greystorm’s face, as if he was contemplating a difficult matter, but he reluctantly said, “…I can… but the third trial…”

Clenching his hands till they turned white, Azon asked anxiously, “What is it?”

A grim glance almost said it all, but Greystorm informed Azon anyway, “His mind will no longer be able to function properly when controlling his muscles. At most he will be able to speak and maybe twitch some muscles, but full control will never be possible again.”

Out of all the trials of a warrior for a typical practitioner, the worst one to fail was the third rank. This was because failure to move your muscles could inhibit you for the rest of your life. All the other trials were easier to get away with since a man can still live and function without his senses, or proper control of the skin.

“Is there anything that can be done?” Azon asked in desperation.

A sigh escaped Greystorm’s lips, and he said, “There is one way, but this method will eventually eat away the remaining fragments of his mind and I cannot recommend it.”

Azon was speechless, and could not imagine a life where that would be the case. Without the mental capacity to function, not only could you no longer cultivate, eventually you will become an invalid. No person would dare wish upon another person that life. A life without emotion, without thought, a meaningless life, forever disabled.

Grabbing a burlap sack on his side, Greystorm handed Azon the sack, and said, “In here is the parasitic Faomyalos* (*see note*) pills. These reopen all mental processes for a month at time. I can’t say how long it will take for them to fully eat away at his mind, but with this he can live a normal life, for a time.”

As he held them in his hand, Azon shook his head and tried to hand it back while saying, “I don’t think I can give these to him. Taking this is like throwing your life away.”

A pitiable glance at Ornias, resolved Greystorm, and he said, “His life is already rather sad, let him decide what he wants to do. Keep those till then, since there is enough for him to live a full twenty years worry free.”

After saying those words the magician stood up and shook Azon’s hand, before saying, “Well I have done all I can do here. The rest of the healing process is up to that boy. So I will take my leave now.”

A deep gratitude welled within Azon, and he said, “Thank you for all you have done, Greystorm. Should you ever need my help, I will come, no questions asked.”

With short goodbyes, the mage left and journeyed back with the remaining escort that they arrived with. After he left Azon, Vanrus, and Cecilia huddled around Ornias, hoping he would come back to them.

Hours passed by and there was still no change in response. Azon and Vanrus were hopefully at first but as night crept around they fell asleep sitting in their chairs. Yet Cecilia attempted to stay awake and see if it was all just a false hope.

Holding his hand, she whispered in his ear, “Everything will be okay, just come back to us. Please come back to us…”

Many hours had passed since the magician had casted the spell of mind recovery, but Ornias still seemed unresponsive. As all hope faded, Cecilia couldn’t bear it anymore and broke down into tears. In this manner she ended up crying herself asleep on his chest.

As the ritual had taken place, Ornias remained in his comatose state but his mind started to stir. Deep within the locked away cavities of his mind, the events that he saw from that ghostly figure’s past had finally ended.

The former patchy images started to shape back the room with his actual parents, and he regained the body of a baby. The bright white light from the figure remained wrapped around Ornias, and was almost completely melded with his body.

Of course, many things were told to Ornias by that ghostly apparition during the flashback, but the most important things were told at the flashback’s conclusion. The soul fragment of this ancient power was what the humans called as a divine artifact, and in fact, all divine artifacts were truly remnants of deceased souls.

This information was not known to except maybe a few, so Ornias was told to keep this to himself. After telling Ornias this important matter, the ghostly figure felt the melding process was reaching its conclusion and desired to speak its last words before it no longer could.

The voice of bright apparition entered his mind for the last time, and said, “If you ever reach the ninth rank, and reach enlightenment with your mind, access to these childhood memories will be possible. Until then I can only hope you use my strength wisely and find my other soul fragments.”

The light around him started to dim and the white figure eventually became absorbed into Ornias and with it the light disappeared. As the light disappeared, his real mother was holding him in her arms. Shock and surprise filled everyone’s face in the room because the light seemed to have disappeared suddenly. The light had been there for hours, but now it had disappeared just like that.

Less than twenty minutes passed after the light dissipated, before a loud banging sound was heard as the door to the hut flung open. It was difficult for Ornias to see, but it looked like ten bandits from the familiar Crimson Claw encampment had stormed inside where his real mother and father lived.

This caused Ornias to feel startled and he could hear his father yell something in anger that he didn’t understand. A large man with a scruffy beard pushed through the other bandits and yelled something back. This man was unfamiliar to Ornias but he tried to recognize his face.

After getting a good look at the man and a couple other bandits, his mother turned and his view of the bandits became replaced by the view of the ground. Fighting and clanging noises sounded and only five minutes passed before all the sounds stopped.

Shortly afterwards, the scenery of the ground blurred in patchy images as movement was happening and the world around him quickly became filled with greens, yellows and browns on the ground.

More noises where heard and yelling and screaming sounded. A sudden wet tear drop fell on Ornias, which startled him. Not to long after a rough jerking sensation was felt and he was pulled out of his mother’s embrace.

The image he saw as he was pulled away, appalled him, and caused his stomach to feel sick. There were three bodies that lay on the ground with blood pooling around them. These bodies were that of his older brother, his sister, and lastly his father who appeared to be a headless corpse.

A heart wrenching sadness pulled at him, until he noticed the big burly man from earlier hovering over his father’s corpse. A sudden deep hatred burned in Ornias as wanted to kill this man.

Eventually the movements of the surrounding slowed as he ended up in someone else’s arms. Looking at who held him, a shock that could not be described suddenly struck him. He stared at Azon, the man he had always known to be as his father. A form of pure hatred was instantly seeded into his very bones for Azon. His parents had died, because of him.

Yet just as he landed in Azon’s grasp, the already blurry images became even fuzzier and the world turned black. His mind began to sense the reality around him as his actual body slowly stirred.

With his eyes closed, the sounds of three separate heartbeats could now be heard. Other functions also began to reawaken and the strong scent of lavender suddenly wafted in his nostrils.

As he awoke, his eyes had to re-adjust to the dark room. The secondary eyelid that formed during his sense trial remained closed while his primary eyelid was open. The view he experienced was blocked by a thin skin like layer that still covered the eyeball giving a veiny red tint to his vision.

The vision he saw was shielded but he could just barely make out three figures beside him. Then just as the eyes became accustomed to the room, the second thin layer opened horizontally on its own, and revealed just who was around him.

He found Cecilia sitting in a chair with her head lying on his chest as she slept. The brown hair on her head was sprawled everywhere across him, and his shirt was slightly wet. He now knew the smell of lavender was coming from her.

Sitting in chairs further away from the bedside, he spotted Azon silently sleeping and the man he referred to as uncle from his childhood. Vanrus wore even more extravagant clothing than he could remember and he mainly recognized him by his long blonde hair.

But not too long after Ornias started glancing around, Azon stirred awake and spotted Ornias with his eyes open. Excitement filled him, and shaking Vanrus next to him, he said, “He’s awake… He is awake! I can’t believe it worked.”

Vanrus woke up slightly alert but quickly calmed down and realized what was going on. A smile spread on his face and he appeared happy in a most auspicious way.

Jumping up, and rushing over to Ornias, Azon asked quickly, “How are you feeling, can you move around?”

“Why wouldn’t I be able to?” Ornias thought, but sure enough as he wanted to sit up, he couldn’t. Even his hand or feet didn’t seem to respond to his commands.

Trembling in fear, his mouth quivered as he said, “I can’t move… I can’t move my body! My muscles won’t respond.”

As the suspicion was confirmed, Azon said truthfully, “I was afraid this would happen.”

Pity entered his gaze and sighing, he said, “You failed your trial, or at least, as far as I am aware, your third trial. But it seems you passed your trial of the skin, and the trial of the senses.”

Dazed, Ornias had a heavy feeling sink into the pity of his gut. What Azon meant was that he had failed his third trial, the trial of the muscles, and his mind was now cut off from fully utilizing them.

As the words truly sunk in, he slowly verbalized, “…so…I am a… cripple…”

A venomous anger swelled from deep within, and yelling, Ornias said, “Because I failed, I can’t move my limbs and my mind severed the connection to most of my vital muscle ligaments? Is that correct?”

Azon’s mouth opened, but no words came out, because he truly didn’t know if it was possible to recover full muscle control after a failed third trial. Shame and regret filled his mind, and he could only think back on the magicians words.

Because of the sudden yelling, Cecilia woke up and recognized a familiar voice that she hadn’t heard for a long time. She raised her head off her son’s chest and saw that he was awake and quickly embraced him.

Although Ornias desired to embrace his mother in return, his limbs would not respond. Despair surged through him, and he started to cry. How could he have known the consequences for his greedy action that day?

Pursing his lips, Azon stepped forward and then said, “Ornias, there is a way for you to be able to move your muscles again.”

Impatience entered his voice as Ornias said, “Why didn’t you say so? Go ahead, tell me how I can.”

As if battling a terrible evil in his head, Azon spoke carefully, “There is a pill supplement left with me that can act as a mediator between your mind and muscles. This can allow you most of your previous movement capabilities.”

A sense of foreboding peaked in Ornias as he said, “Why didn’t you mention this before?”

Letting out a sigh, Azon scratched his head and said, “There is a terrible price… It eats your mental power in exchange.”

“I have already lost my capabilities for cultivation as a warrior. I have no need for a powerful mind if I can’t even have a body to use it. Just give me the pill!” Ornias yelled in a distraught anger.

With a bleak nod, Azon said, “Very well.”

He grabbed one of the Faomyalos pills Greystorm gave him, and walked over. Then waited for Ornias to open his mouth and dropped it in. The pill was quite miraculous and a slow tingling sensation could be felt all over the body of Ornias.

The mind was now able to properly communicate with his muscles which caused a strange sensation throughout his body. It didn’t feel like it was his body anymore but when he ordered it to move it did.

He raised his body up with effort because his body had not moving for two years and everyone couldn’t help but feel troubled by it. In fact, the muscles and fat on his flesh had deteriorated but otherwise he looked just fine.

After he sat up, Cecilia grasped his hand and a tear dribbled down her cheek. While recalling the painful last two years, she said, “It’s been so long… so long…”

She squeezed his hand and reminiscing in the memories said, “I tried reading to you every night, but you wouldn’t respond.”

A feeble comforting smile spread on his face in an attempt to say everything is okay now. But just as he was about to say words to Cecilia, Azon stepped forward and proceeded to check over his condition.

This caused Ornias to get slightly angry, and he said, “I’m fine, you don’t need to look me over.”

Vanrus walked near the bedside and said, “I think it would be in your best interest to have Azon look your body over. He could evaluate your condition better than most.”

With that, Azon nodded his head at Vanrus in thanks, and looked back at Ornias and said, “Indeed, I am the highest ranked warrior around, so I would know more about the physical condition of your body if I could look you over.”

An anger that was gurgling in the pit of his stomach could no longer be suppressed and Ornias unleashed it rather suddenly. “Everyone out, I just want to be with my mother right now!”

Both Azon and Vanrus were shocked by the sudden outburst but silently retreated. They knew that he had just experienced a traumatic experience so it was best if they did leave for now. They glanced back at Ornias one last time and then left the room.

Calming down, Ornias blinked and both pairs of eyelids flashed closed, which gave off a creepy feeling. This unique facial feature slightly frightened Cecilia, and she couldn’t help but say, “Ornias… your eyes…”

Cocking his head off to one side, he responded by saying, “Huh?”

She placed her hand over her mouth and said with a frightened tone, “You have two pairs of eyelids, the normal vertical eyelid, and one that closes horizontally underneath it.”

Confusion appeared on his face, and touching next to his eyes, he felt slight bulges on the sides of where the second eyelid curls in the corners. He was surprised but recalled that when he first woke up something was strange about his eye sight.

In order to calm his frightened mother, he said, “It seems I woke up with this extra eyelid. It must be from the trial of the senses.”

She nodded her head and glanced away slightly at the mention of the trials. In an attempt to change the topic, Ornias recalled the images from his dream and decided to inquire about them. It was an uneasy topic to discuss but he steeled himself and asked the first question that he always wanted answered.

Nervousness poured through him, but he still asked, “Mother, I always wondered where I was born, can you tell me?”

The discomfort lifted from atmosphere around Cecilia as she replied, “Silly, here in the Forest of Fengle’s Mourning, of course.”

Sighing he said, “Here… huh…”

Uneasiness was apparent in his voice, and then spelling out his fears, he asked, “Mother, tell me… Is Azon truly my father?”

A twinge of despair struck her stomach, and shakily she replied, “That…”

He stared fiercely at her, and said, “Are you even my mother?”

As he said those terrible words it felt like her heart was ripped out and tears streamed down her face. This particular course of events was not her fault but the anger burning within him was being misdirected towards her.

The blame did not lay with her, since the circumstances that lead Cecilia to even liking Azon was known as Stockholm syndrome. It’s a situation where the victim of capture develops empathetic feelings towards their captor.

When she was first enslaved, she was beaten and raped, but once she landed in Azon’s hands the abuse stopped. After the abuse stopped, mistaken feelings of gratitude where felt for him and this eventually happened for Rana as well.

The images of past events that flashed through Ornias had let him see the situation for what it really was, but Cecilia had been brainwashed through the emotional trauma.

As her fantasy world of mother and father had been shattered, she gasped with stifled hiccups, and tears ran down her cheeks. She squeezed out the words, “…Ornias…I…” but they were interrupted with gasping hiccup noises between both words.

The next words that came out her mouth were painful to both of them as she said, “I’m not your mother…but I still love you…”

A sharp pain reverberated in his stomach as he realized everything that he saw during the coma was actually true events of the past. He clenched his fist and gritted his teeth in anger, but he knew he was powerless to do anything.

His desire for justice was strong but the reality of the situation was not in his favor. The feelings he had for Cecilia were unchanged however, because he would forever regard her as the mother who raised him.

Griping her hand with his right hand and patting it with left, he said, “Thank you for telling me the truth. I will forever consider you as my mother that raised me in my heart. I am weary right now so if you could let me rest, I would appreciate it.”

That night he slept alone and tried to see what the collateral damage was for his failed trial. Gathering in a deep breath of air he began his breathing technique to start meditation. He quickly discovered that he was a second rank warrior that was mostly incapable of using his muscles except through limited uses through the pill he was taking.

Nothing more could be gained from looking at his physical condition so he decided to peer into his magical side. Maybe there he could further his cultivation and bring meaning to his life once again.

Therefore entering the magical room like he did before, he found it was pitch black. A burning rage filled him, because not a single element seemed to even enter his space at all. This was beyond disheartening for him.

Why this was the case was because the divine artifact he had melded with at birth was the only reason he sensed magical energy at all. The soul fragment of the person was most likely a powerful mage and now that he devoured it, the magic capabilities were gone.

The divine artifact had all of its energy used up during his overzealous desire for knowledge, however it did allow him to pass his first two trials successfully. The third trial was interrupted so it wasn’t used enough to allow him to go through his third trial, ending him up in his current predicament.

Distraught Ornias decided to go to bed and focus on things day by day. The following mourning as Ornias attempted to get up, he was stopped, as a knock on his door sounded. The door swung open before Ornias could say to enter and Vanrus stood at the door frame.

He walked over to the bedside and knelt down on one knee. “Ornias, I want to forewarn you, your father is going to leave tomorrow to wage war against Tolboud. I just finished discussing this with him and wanted to let you know personally before he mentions it.”

The sudden discussion of these events came as a shock and Ornias felt dazed as he said, “War… huh…”

An evil grin appeared on Vanrus, but with his head down Ornias couldn’t see it. This was all part of his plans and he only needed one more piece in place. After this all his troubles would be solved.

Speaking with a solemn sincerity, he said, “Yes… war. I know that you are not in the best condition right now but you are at least of the second rank, therefore I think you should maybe consider being by your father’s side during this war so you can support and learn from him.”

The brows furrowed on Ornias, as he said, “Me support my father?”

Lifting his head and peering with a powerful gaze, Vanrus said with conviction, “You may not be aware but he actually went through a great deal in order for you to be healed. He cares deeply for you and I think that you should be by his side during the war to show your own way of gratitude for his sacrifice.”

A gentle anger surged through Ornias at the mention of sacrifice, and he replied, “I appreciate you for telling me all of this, but it’s my decision and I would like to think it over.”

With a quick motion, Vanrus stood back up bowed and said, “Of course, I just thought I would be the messenger. I hope you would consider my suggestion.”

He then left the room and closed the door behind him. It mattered not if Ornias truly accompanied Azon but it would make things easier for Vanrus if that was the case. So Vanrus attempted that route with a gentle nudge.

After the visit from Vanrus, Ornias got dress properly and headed outside but stopped on the porch as he noticed a commotion going on out there.

There were ten men that stood outside the house and there was one Ornias actually recognized. This man’s face was from those saddening images he saw during his coma. Sudden anger surged through him, but he pushed it down.

What could he do after all, he was essentially a cripple. Frustrated he stepped back inside and waited till when dinner came. The men left and Azon who was speaking with his captains returned inside to eat with them.

As they ate Azon broke the awkward silence, and said quietly, “I have to leave tomorrow on another mission for the empire. This one is vital, because there is an inevitable war on the horizon and I will be taking with me most of the encampment this time.”

“What??!!” Cecilia screamed and slammed her hand down on the table.

Sighing, Azon attempted to reply calm and level headed, “We have to strike the Tolboud forces within this region. This will secure the path for the Azarasi Kingdom to swoop in and take Domington. Our war will begin in this single move and our former peaceful lives will no longer be the same.”

Screaming like a banshee, Cecilia wailed, “Does the Azarasi kingdom think they need to rule the world? I don’t want you to do this!”

Azon shook his head disheartened, and said, “I have no say in the matter. The Tolboud forces over the past seven years have become increasingly aggressive within this region and if they ever discover Fengle’s Grove, they will not hesitate to kill us all.”

Getting overworked into the matter, he said, “This is just a pre-emptive strike. But I don’t think this war will end until the Azarasi Kingdom succeeds in taking control over the entire continent.”

A grim smile appeared on his face, and he said, “And they consider my battle strategies pivotal in this war so I have to go.”

Standing up, and yelling, she said, “Well excuse me for not wanting to see us in an early grave.”

Turning around, she stormed out of the dining room area, leaving an awkward silence between Ornias and Azon. Ornias realized now was not a good time to be around, so excused himself as well and left to go to his room.

After that argument, he paced in his room as he struggled over what he was going to do with his life from now on. He could live a mostly normal life with the aid of those special pills, but he did not want a normal life.

“I don’t know what to do anymore… ” He said, as he sighed.

The images he saw during his coma suddenly came to mind and clenching his fist he stopped his pacing. There is something that does need to be done.

Reaffirming himself, he said, “No, I do know what to do…”

The next day in the morning before Azon was to assemble the troops and leave, Ornias rushed out the door and found Azon performing morning training exercises. Ornias greeted him and quickly demanded an odd request.

“Azon, I want to go with you on this mission.”

(*NOTE* Pronounced: Fow- my-a-los)