He clutched his mother’s hand tightly, asking her why she and father had to abandon him on that fretful day. His father reached down to pick him up. To tell Raden that he was sorry for leaving him alone, but that they needed to sacrifice themselves so that their children might live. Raden wanted to hug them close, somehow believing that the tighter he held on, the safer his parents would be. He could protect them now; something mysterious and powerful had manifested within him. He could do now what he failed to do before. But as he squeezed tighter, he found himself alone, arms embracing empty air. His parents had melted away. Skin turned to ash, and ash fluttered away in the wind.
Why? The last word spoken to his parents before he suddenly awoke.
Raden was in agonizing pain, both physically and mentally. His anguish had consumed every part of him, never allowing him the opportunity to survey his surroundings. He was in a dark room. The only source of light was a candle by his bed. No, it wasn’t even a bed, more akin to a metallic mat laid upon the rocky ground. He rose to his feet, taking extraordinary effort to perform such a simple task. He reached for his left eye, and felt the patch covering it. He felt ill from a blistering fever, burning him up from inside.
Raden picked up the candle and examined the room. The walls were solid stone, but the room itself was perfectly rectangular. His immediate thought was that someone had built this room, and perhaps that someone was still here. There was no door to the room either, just solid stone surfaces on each side, ceiling and floor, too. He put the candle up next to the closest wall and noticed the blackened stains. He smudged a bit off the wall with his index finger and sniffed it. It smelled of ash. Every wall seemed to be covered in it. Where am I? How did I get here? The questions racked his mind. The last thing he remembered was the explosion at Kih Bayar. Images abounded. Battling the Candidate. The sensation of being lifted off the ground. Brontes’ vicious attack that left his ribs and backside battered. He checked for pain and sure enough the wounds were real. He remembered Gama and Oli being knocked unconscious inside the pit. And Kara. Kara’s body lifted up and— he couldn’t bear to finish the thought. The memories began to flood back. Had she really died? Or had all of that been a dream to which he was waking up from now?
A voice called out gently from above. “You’ve finally awakened, Raden.”
Raden searched the ceiling above him, but could see no openings.
“Who are you? Where have you taken me?”
A giant circular stone began to open above him. Bright light poured into the room, forcing Raden to shield his eyes, having grown accustomed to the darkness. The sound of stone grinding against itself echoed loudly in the chamber. The opening in the ceiling was now whole, and above him stood a solitary figure. Raden could not make out his face as the light enveloped the mysterious figure from behind, casting him in shadows. But the voice sounded familiar. He knew this person, but who was it?
“You are home, Raden. You are safe.”
“This prison is not my home. Just who are you? What do you want from me?”
The figure leapt down into the room before Raden could react. The stranger was astonishingly quick. Raden’s eyes began to adjust and focus in on his face. His eyes widened in recognition. It was the Warrior, one of the five members of the Ministry of Transcendence. He had heard his voice countless times back at base. But here he was now, standing right before him.
“You are home, Raden. You are high above the city, at the top of Mount Iwai.”
“Why am I here?”
“You are here to train, child. Those flashbacks you’ve been having are a result of your newfound power. You have given the empire its greatest key to winning this war. You are a true Candidate. You will end this war once and for all.”
The idea that Raden was now the savior of the empire, that his newly discovered powers would be the key in changing the course of the war didn’t grab his immediate attention. He wanted to know more important information.
“Home? How did I get back here? I was on a mission across the Disputed Lands, deep into the Vicedonian territories. The last thing I remember was battling the Candidate.” Memories of the mission came flooding back. “We saw it. Its powers were tremendous, it killed…” Raden’s shoulders sank at the thought of Kara again.
“Yes, child. Kara is dead. Killed by the hands of a supposed Candidate that you defeated. The Vicedonians no longer have an advantage over us; it is we who now possess the only true Candidate. A gift from the One, telling us that now is the time to strike at our enemies.” The Warrior walked over to Raden, placing his hands gently upon his shoulders.
“Kara is dead. But she did not die in vain. Her sacrifice will be remembered in the victory to come. You have already avenged her death, child. Now, it is time to prepare you so that you may avenge everyone in the empire who has lost family members, friends… loved ones.”
Friends, thought Raden. “What happened to Gama and Oli? Did they make it back, too?”
“Yes. Not only did they make it back home, they were the ones who brought you home safely. True friends, indeed.”
Relief poured over Raden. At least Gama and Oli were safe. The thought of losing his best friend would have been too much to bear.
“What about Kimi? Does she know I’m back? Has she seen me?”
“Kimi knows, and she will visit you in time, child. For now, it is better that you concentrate on the task at hand.”
“And what would that be?”
“For you to learn how to control your power.”
My power. Raden glanced around the room. “These walls are burnt. Is that because of me?”
The Warrior nodded in agreement. “It is, but it is because you have not learned to harness the power of the One. You have been suffering much lately. In your sleep, your dreams—or nightmares, rather—have physical manifestations. Your power reacts to your thoughts and emotions. Your emotions have been out of control because of what you’ve recently endured. Your body, in turn, has reacted uncontrollably as well. You scorched this entire room. There used to be more pieces of furniture in here, but you incinerated all of it. That’s why you’ve been sleeping on that metal sheet.”
“The bed… burnt, too?”
“It was the first thing to go.”
“Figures.”
“Come, follow me. Now that you are awake, you are conscious and capable of focusing on controlling your blessed abilities. The Warrior grabbed a hold of Raden’s hand and jumped out of the room. Not only was he exceptionally quick, but his strength was unbelievable. He appeared to be an elderly man, perhaps in his late seventies or so; a long white goatee streamed down his chin. Matching snowflake hair peeked out from beneath his large straw hat, the large circular brim casting his face in shadows. He dressed in long flowing tan robes, much like the Prophet did when Raden had met him what seemed like so many ages ago. On his belt he carried a small, wooden short sword sheathed in its scabbard, the scabbard plain and unadorned, oddly simple for a person of such status and power within the empire. A small twine of rope hung off the left side of his body; for what purpose he used it escaped Raden. He was much smaller than the Prophet, barely coming up to Raden’s nose. But then again, the Prophet made even Gama look small in comparison.
“Follow me.”
The Warrior led Raden down a small hallway that opened up onto a narrow rectangular ledge. The ledge was bare except for some candles and a small stone altar at the far end of it. The altar consisted of a square base, with dragon carvings branching out from the sides and back. Raden could smell the fresh mountain breeze. He took in a deep breath and realized he was having trouble doing it.
“It’s the high altitude, child. You are thousands of feet above the capital. You can see it beneath you if you wish.”
They stood on a long narrow ledge that jutted out from the mountainside. Raden stared over the side and could indeed see the city below. It looked so much smaller from here. He truly was removed from everyone.
“H
ere is where you will train.”
“But there’s no room to train out here, there’s barely enough room to stand.”
“No, you will sit at the edge, and clear your thoughts. You must train your mind. The mind is everything.”
Raden wanted to argue the impracticality of training in such an awkward space, but he had to remind himself that he was talking to the Warrior. Questioning him would be unwise. He made his way over to the edge, and sat cross-legged on the altar, facing outwards to the valley below.
“Close your eyes, and clear your mind of everything. Thoughts, desires, memories, wipe them all away. The only thing to remain is emptiness.”
Raden closed his eyes. He listened to the wind as it blew across the mountaintops; the call of a nighthawk echoed far down below. He felt a sense of peace as nature surrounded him. But the sense of peace did not last long. Painful memories came back. He tried to block them out, but soon found himself thinking of everything dear to his heart: his family, his friends, and Kara. He could feel his body heating up; the air began to crackle around him, the heat emanating from deep inside. The anger and pain fueled his fire. The rage consumed him until he could no longer hold onto it anymore. Fire engulfed his body and shot out everywhere. Raden opened his eyes. His body was exhausted now; sweat poured down his brow, a small trickle of blood dripped from his nose. His body ached, the fever burning every ounce of his being.
“You are allowing the rage to control you, child. You must clear your mind of all emotions, especially the ones that hurt you the most. Rage can be powerful, but not at the expense of control. Unpredictability on the battlefield can be detrimental to our goal of victory. You know that as well as any other soldier. True power comes from focus, from knowing what to do ten steps ahead of your enemy. You need to eliminate the emotion, and focus on becoming one within.”
“And how will I know when I have maintained control of this power?”
“When the One speaks to you, you will know.”
Raden immediately thought about the voice he heard during his battle with the Vicedonian Candidate. Was that truly the voice of the One?
“Now try again, child.”
Chapter 41