“Ooooooooooooohm.”

Hunter woke up to the sound of a long vowel hum. It took him a moment to get his bearings.

“Ooooooooooooohm.”

He heard it again. Hunter found himself lying on his back wrapped in blankets amidst a patch of mountain shrubs. When he tried to sit up, he saw his new friend, the monk sitting in the lotus position on a nearby boulder. As reverberations from the long hum echoed through the mountains, the monk turned his head toward Hunter.

“Welcome.” The monk said.

Hunter stood up. He looked around. He found himself standing on top of the world. A tall mountain cone surrounded by small glaciers lay beneath his feet. He stood on a small, round platform at the highest point in the mountain range. He felt himself breathing heavily due to the thin air. The view was celestial.

“Llen queust onmos nagef, uskrothe ahine taik Rohjarrat.” The monk uttered a mantra in a low voice with his eyes closed.

The monk faced a giant lapis lazuli crystal table. The clinquant table sat in the center of the platform and overlooked the vast expanses of the Himalayan range. On the platform, a man lay dressed in violet robes. His eyes were closed. He breathed slowly. His hands lay clasped across his chest. He looked peaceful. An opaque blue liquid covered his body. Hunter saw traces of crystal on the ground. He saw liquid dripping from the table’s edges.

“Was this man frozen?” Hunter gasped. “Like Ghaelvord?”

“Indeed.” Came the reply.

He went on, “This is Rohjarrat, one of the greatest Dahjaat that I have ever known. He has earned the right to meet his maker. He could have moved on long ago and left his responsibilities to others who would take up his mantle. He turned the opportunity down each time. He was determined to see the War through to the end. He led a life of deep respect and decisive leadership. He was a loyal friend and a formidable opponent.”

“Is he dead? He’s still breathing.” Hunter asked.

The host did not answer Hunter’s question.

Instead, he asked his own, “I need to know more about you.”

Hunter shrugged, “Okay.”

“Let us start with why you are here. Why are you here?” The monk asked.

“The stone led me here. I just followed the clues.” Hunter replied.

“What is your purpose in life?”

Hunter took a deep breath, “Well, that is a big question, I suppose. It was to dig, find artifacts, study the earth. Be the best husband I could be. Possibly start a family someday. Lead my team. That’s about it I guess.”

“A satisfactory answer. You are an archaeologist?”

“Yes, and my wife Tiyana, she’s a scientist. We’re a pair.”

“Excellent professions. The invisible order of creation can be seen by understanding the things made. Your studies are vicarious, while your wife’s are direct. Much of what was once here is being rebuilt.”

“Um.” Hunter did not know how to respond to that.

“Listen,” Hunter began, “I don’t know what we’re doing here. I think that something bad may have happened and it’s at least partially my fault. I want to make it right. If I discover Shambhala or an Egyptian treasure trove along the way, then I won’t complain. I am worried though. I didn’t like the look in the eyes of the ogre that we met down there, below the ground, in Egypt.”

“I see.” The monk replied. “You should be worried. I think that the time has come for someone to finally take up Rohjarrat’s mantle.”

“Okay. I’ll humor you.” Hunter responded dryly. “You going to elaborate?”

The monk sat silent for a few moments before speaking again, “Mankind developed for many millennia. We conquered the forces of the universe. We learned to manipulate our environment. We mastered the elements. We made contact with other galaxies. We shared our wealth of knowledge. Many achieved personal and spiritual enlightenment. Disease and war faded away and became a distant memory. Life teemed and abounded on this planet and we encouraged it. You and your consort and your fellow traveler, you are all descendants of a great, noble, and proud race. We call them the Aldenduenum, the Great People.”

The monk paused again and then went on. The story enraptured Hunter.

“I can teach you some of the secrets of the Aldenduenum. I can give you some of the knowledge of the ancient civilization upon whose death your people were born. You can become the greatest explorer to walk this earth since the time before the apocalypse. In exchange, I beseech you to find Ghaelvord immediately and help me stop him. All of the resources of the Kingdom of Shambhala will be at your disposal. Hunter Terrance Price. This is your calling. This is your destiny.”

Hunter was stunned. He was so close to the secrets that he had spent his life searching for. “‘Put an end to his plans?’ You mean kill him? What has he done?” Hunter stammered.

“The Aldenduenum once used their minds to the full extent possible, but over time, the unbridled power became burdensome. They gave up many of their primal abilities and replaced them with technology. We, the Dahjaat, lived simple lives. We refused to limit ourselves. Because we refused their limitations, the Aldenduenum asked us to separate. They partitioned off land for us, for our tribes. Ghaelvord War’usk-etal of the Cywornal Clan, Chthonian Tribe went to northeast Africa. Rohjarrat Magakpa of the Sumeru Clan, Aempyrean Tribe came here and helped to found the Kingdom of Shambhala. Rohjarrat and Ghaelvord were friends once… in a simpler time…” The monk trailed off.

His eyes grew wistful.

“What happened?” Hunter asked when he realized that the monk’s attention had drifted.

“Oh, yes. We kept to our ageless ways and customs. We lived apart from the Aldenduenum. In the east, the Sumeru Tribe grew prosperous. We built this network of places inside the caves and on the cliffs of these mountains. We were at peace here. The Chthonian Tribe did not fare so well.”

“Why?” Hunter asked.

The monk sighed deeply and shook his head, “Ghaelvord and the westerners grew jealous of the Aldenduenum. There was animosity initially, when our civilization parted ways with theirs. In the east, it faded as we built our Kingdom. In the west, it only grew. The westerners, particularly the Cywornal Clan, missed the modern amenities of the Aldenduenum. I suppose they felt forgotten and left behind. You see, once, our kind inspired awe in the humans, but over the centuries, it faded. You see, we live for a very long time.”

“Ghaelvord said he was immortal.” Hunter added.

At that, the monk laughed mellifluously, “No, no, not immortal, not at all. As you have seen, we can hibernate and we do not age while in stasis.”

“What happened with the Chthonians?” Hunter urged.

The monk took a deep breath, “They felt like second-class citizens of the world. They saw segregation as imprisonment. They hated apartheid. They wanted to live among the Aldenduenum, but it was more than that. They wanted to inspire the same awe that they once had, before technology surpassed us.”

“What do you mean, ‘technology surpassed us?’” Hunter asked.

“Oh, the Aldenduenum had a device for everything. If they needed to move a mountain, they had a machine for it. If they wanted to fight a battle, they had cybernetics that made the Dahjaat seem puny in comparison. No one cared about what we could do. We were mostly forgotten or treated like parlor magicians or circus freaks. The chthonians hated it.”

“What could you do? Shapeshift like Ghaelvord?” Hunter asked.

“Declopse, Hunter. That is the word in our language. It means ‘become,’ as in ‘become Dahjaat.’ If you hear Ghaelvord say that word, then be prepared. Remember that word, declopse.”

“I’ve got a lot to remember.” Hunter quipped.

“Hunter, Ghaelvord built a small cult, an anti-human cult. They invaded human space. They hijacked forbidden weaponry and brought about a worldwide apocalypse. The details are a story for another time. They did this merely to set the Aldenduenum on their heels and restore the Dahjaat’s place among men.”

The monk grew serious, “Hunter, when we found out what they, what he, had done, we went to war. With humanity reduced to small numbers and with their technology and knowledge gone, the Dahjaat had to protect them. We had to protect them. The chthonians wanted to rule over them. They demanded to be worshipped like gods. The arrogance…” The monk became visibly perturbed. “We wanted to free the fledgling humans and allow them to find their way again. We still do. We stand for freedom for all humans, now and forever.”

“What happened to the Dahjaat?” Hunter asked. “Do they still exist?”

“Yes, Hunter. They are in hibernation. The Aempyrean Tribe and the Chthonian Tribe called a truce. Both sides agreed to enter a period of hibernation lasting many millenia. The purpose of the truce was to allow the weak, fledgling, primitive humans to grow, thrive, and rebuild their civilization to some measure of its former glory.”

“Cripes.” Hunter muttered. “And we affected that when we woke him?”

“Yes, and far too early. Humanity is not ready. I cannot wake the aempyreans. If the war begins again now, it would wreak havoc and chaos. Millions would die. Humanity is in a very precarious situation right now.”

“What about him, what will he do?” Hunter asked.

“I do not even want to think about it.” The monk replied. Then, he locked eyes with Hunter, “If we do not intervene, Hunter Price, I believe that he will subjugate humanity and turn this world into a tyranny that will last for millenia. When the Aempyrean Tribe finally awakens, they cannot awake to find that Ghaelvord has built an empire. It would ruin our cause. He would be too strong to stop. We will have lost the war.”

“I see.” Hunter said.

He had so many questions.

The monk demanded, “Answer me now. Will you take this assignment? Remember that you instigated this. For what you did, no matter your intentions, you have an obligation. The burden falls on your shoulders.”

“Can we contact the American government? Surely they can help.” Hunter posited.

“Hunter, no. If Ghaelvord feels cornered, he may wake the Chthonian Tribe. If that happens, then I will have to wake the Aempyrean Tribe. Humanity is not ready for the war that would ensue. No. We must deal with this. You and I, and we must do it quickly, carefully, and quietly.” The monk responded in a stern tone.

“What about this man, Rohjarrat. Can he help?” Hunter asked.

“His time has passed. He is in no state to wake up now. He would understand and he would be grateful.” The monk solemnly said. He went on gravely, “He will do his part, but he is no savior. We need someone who knows this world. We need someone who can navigate, not just fight. Hunter, we need you.”

“You are strange.” Hunter replied.

He wondered if he was dreaming. He pinched himself discretely.

“Ouch.” No, not dreaming.

“One last question.” The monk said.

“Why not? Go ahead.” Hunter replied, exasperated.

His head was swimming.

“Promise to stop Ghaelvord.” The monk demanded.

“Okay.” Hunter replied simply.

“I wish I had time to know you better, but this palaver will have to suffice. Time is not a luxury that we have been given.”

With that, the monk closed his eyes and began his mantra. Hunter watched with a puzzled expression on his face. The chanting continued. The monk let out a long, loud vowel sound. Suddenly, the whole lapis lazuli table was thrumming. It began to glow faintly. Hunter thought that he saw small sparks coming from it. Hunter grew confused and scared, which were two rare emotions for him.

The monk stopped chanting and spoke again, “Hunter Price, you take this mantle with its rights and with its obligations. Demonstrate refined and noble character. Never shirk your duty. Honor your family and your tribe. Let your guiding principles come from within. Trust the path of righteousness. Accept grace.”

Hunter became embarrassed.

The monk went on, “Hunter, do you have the stone?”

“This stone?” Hunter said as he pulled the Cintamani stone from his robes.

The stone began to glow.

“Hunter, this is your last chance. Will you accept this burden?”

“Will it allow me to make things right?” Hunter asked.

“Yes, and with it will come great responsibility. Your life will change forever.” The monk responded.

“What about Tiyana?”

“You can still be with her. I would not break up a family.”

“Okay, I accept.” Not many people would have jumped blindly in, but Hunter was not most people.

The monk smiled, “Do good then.”

He closed his eyes again and continued with the incantation. The sparks grew bigger and shot into the sky. The table burst into blue and white flame. The flare blinded Hunter. He shut his eyes. The heat stung him. He felt the stone in his hand reverberating. A loud thrumming noise rose up in his ears. The heat grew more intense. At first it merely stung him, but the sting became a sharp pain. The pain intensified. He began screaming. His hand involuntarily twitched and clamped down hard on the stone. He squeezed it with all his might. He felt his flesh melt from his bones. The thrum of the stone filled him. The thrum drew all of his consciousness. He became one with the thrum.

As he lost consciousness, he heard the thrum of the stone merge with the monk’s chant, “Ooooooooooooohm.”