Chapter 15
Chapter 15
This then is the message which we have heard of him, and declare unto you, that God is light, and in him is no darkness at all. If we say that we have fellowship with him, and walk in darkness, we lie, and do not the truth: But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship one with another, and the blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin.
~John 1: 5-7~
Somewhere in Sioux Falls, South Dakota
The wind tousled the trees, birds trilling morning song as leaves danced upon the ground. The pungent scent of forest decay saturated the air as a pale foot smoothly slid across the earth.
Thick nutritious soil bunched around the foot, grains sliding between toes as a sinewy leg covered in thick cowhide leather followed in its wake.
A torso, draped in a peasant cotton shirt, twisted; arms turning slowly with palms facing the sky. Each movement is slow and calculated.
Breathing in and exhaling out. Black locks tumble down the lean muscle of the youth's back. Eyes closed as the sun filtered through the canopy from above upon soft skin. Up, perched in the highest tree, sat a majestic bird. Tail feathers swaying as if alit in flame.
Red plumage ruffled as it warbled a calming tune. Every time it changed, so too did the youth's movements. Sweat coated the child's body. A cross glistened as moisture gathered on its chain around his neck.
Clothes sticking to him as if cemented on. Yet still, the adolescent continued his movements like a dance that would never end.
He was one with his surroundings. For each change of form, he sent a pulse of energy into the earth, each breath he absorbed an answering call.
The whispers that were constantly buzzing in his head were silent for once. Absorbed in Ascha's movements just as much as he.
So calm was he that he never wanted it to end. He could feel the life all around him, every movement in the ground, and every flap of a wing. The worms writhing in the soil beneath his feet, the birds high up in the air, the squirrels burying nuts a mile away. He was in awe.
A final movement, feet coming together, arms stretching above his head at an inhale.
Then slowly coming down as he exhaled, emerald eyes opening, a smile spreading upon a serene face.
Though Ascha was reluctant to learn Tai-chi or any form of martial arts, he found that they really helped him control the power that he always felt bubbling beneath his skin.
Since making the deal with Crawly, Ascha has been learning new things every day. Some things he would rather do without but he had come to realize that sometimes things were necessary.
He can still remember the argument he had with Crawly when he first protested learning such violent things as martial arts. That isn't even touching upon weaponry training he was just starting to learn as well….
The walls were stained yellow, the floor covered in rough carpet, and a lone weathered table stood off in the corner.
Two chairs surround it. One chair toddled as it was missing a foot and looked to be in danger of falling. A chipped dresser pressed up against the wall and two queen beds pressed up against the opposite wall.
The room stank of smoke and other things he couldn't name as he sat on a firm bed. Even so, the bed was a comfort he felt happy to have, his masters never were ones to spend money on him.
The dark one, Crawly as he had been named, sat opposite him. Books on different forms of violence surround him. Ascha had just had a massive tantrum. The large window that took up the wall behind him still rattled with each crash of thunder.
Rain beating upon the glass. A stubborn frown marred his face as he crossed his arms to face his caretaker.
"No! I don't want to hurt anyone! I won't do it. So you can get rid of those books, I don't need them." Ascha yelled petulantly. Crawly sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
He muttered something about praying for patience. Looking up he pierced Ascha with a determined look. Red eyes blazing.
"Ascha you need to learn how to defend yourself. I won't always be there to defend you and you can't always rely on your abilities to save you." Gulping Ascha looks pleadingly into crimson eyes.
"But why? I don't understand. I don't want to hurt anyone." Tears gather but do not fall. A defeated look passes over Ascha's face as he realizes he must learn these things. Crawly shakes his head at his naivety.
"I know but not everyone has the same morality as you and there are those that will hurt you. Creatures like me that when they find out about you, they will. They will come for you, try to use you if you don't comply too what they want and they will hurt you.
If that doesn't work they will harm the ones you love. Evil will do anything to get what it wants, regardless of who gets hurt along the way. If not to protect yourself, learn it to protect your future friends, your future loved ones." Tears finally fall as Ascha hung his head in defeat….
Since then Ascha has been buried neck-deep in different forms of martial arts, hand-to-hand, and self-defense and he started bookwork on guns and other weaponry.
In a few months' time, after he has read all there is to know about the ins and outs of basic weapon training, he will move on to cleaning them. Then, basic handling and will move on from there. Not only is he learning fighting and all that in tales, but Crawly also has been teaching him about the world.
The different countries, states, continents, politics, and laws that go with each. He has been learning math, history, literature, geography, music, and science. Though it's the basics, he does have a lot to catch up on after not being allowed to go to school.
He can finally read fluently without any problems, and go out into towns without causing massive panic or earthquakes with his voice. Though he has to squash the urge to heal people a lot.
Crawly is a hard task-maker. Ashca has found his understanding of the world around him has increased by leaps and bounds.
As had the health of his body. He feels lighter and the more he meditates and practices his forms the more the power within him calms. His protests for learning these things died quite a while ago because of this.
Sighing, Ascha wipes the sweat off his head as he starts the trek back to the cabin that Crawly procured two months before. Dead leaves crunch beneath his feet as a chilly breeze brushes against his porcelain skin.
Stretching his arms out, Ascha allows his fingers to brush against the bark of the massive Oak and Maple. A happy trill sounds from above as Fawkes weaves around trunks with great swoops of wings.
The forest is alive with the music of life and far off in the distance, Ashca can hear the trickle of water from the great falls of Sioux. It wasn't long until Ascha came upon the cabin, the woods opening up to a field of wild blossoms and green grass.
The cottage was small, the roof thatched with moss, pine, and mud clay. The structure is made of sanded logs of Yellowwood. A chimney lay dormant rising out of the lodge on its side, built of terra-cotta.
The driveway was white gravel outlined in red mulch that led out to the paved motorway. The road led into the city of Sioux Falls, South Dakota. The cabin itself is located on the outskirts of Falls Park.
In the distance, the rush of the waterfalls could be heard crashing on rocks. Giving a joyful cry, Fawkes dove toward Ascha as he walked the rest of the way to the door. Alighting on his shoulder just as Ascha turned the doorknob and walked inside.
The house was cozy, the living room opening up surrounding a fireplace as its center. Bookshelves lining the walls, cushy armchairs facing the fireplace, and a dark red shag rug resting in front of it.
An iron-wrought table stood off to the side beneath a glass-paned window that faced the street. Books, notebooks, and papers are scattered across it in a disarray.
To the right, a simple kitchen opened up, a two-burner gas stove, an ice box, and a sink with basic plumbing that led to a well-out back. A wooden counter curved around the small kitchen and next to it was a door.
This led to the only room in the house with one king-sized bed and one bathroom that contained one bathtub, toilet, and sink. The house was small but Ascha loved it for it was his. Crawly came by every couple of days to teach him new things, restock his fridge and check his progress.
After the thirtieth time, Ascha busted one of Crawly's deals he decided that some distance between them was in order. Young, though Ascha maybe, he was quickly advancing in intelligence and knowledge of the world as well as his maturity level.
So much so Crawly didn't feel he would get into trouble being on his own every couple of days. Walking into the room Ascha shut the front door. Padding on silent feet, humming a jaunty tune he walked toward the bedroom. Fawkes hopped onto one of the armchairs as he passed them.
Opening the door he continued toward the bathroom, stripping as he went.
Ten minutes later he exited the steamy bathroom newly refreshed. Walking to a cherry wood dresser he took out black silk pajamas that were a gift from Crawly about a year before. After dressing he picked up an antique brush to tame his hair and a leather cord to tie it up once he finished.
Walking into the living room he ambled towards the table that overlooked the street, curling up in a chair he felt for the power that pulsed inside him.
Calling it forth he summoned a flame that floated in the center of the table. Humming once more as he brushed his hair, he pulled a book that had been resting on the table to him.
Opening the page to where he left off he began to read. The flame flickering light upon its pages long into the night.