“I just saw you move,” Adofo says. “Earthers, I swear, no concept of still.”
“Sorry I wasn’t born from a statue,” Ali says with frustration. He is wearing the traditional armor of the Golden Executioner and it is extremely heavy, but Ali has had to complete long trials like these before. When he trained with the Kazi on Eel, he balanced boulders that weighed tons in each hand in the Red Mountains for twenty-eight days straight, no breaks for food or sleep, and on the twenty-eighth day, he had to hike the mountains over twenty miles back to the Kazi Dojo before he ate and slept. He was demonstrating his proficiency with the invulnerability and strength masteries of the Kazi and utilizing those masteries for so long was so taxing that he slept for almost a week after his successful demonstration.
Standing in the armor crafted of solid gold isn’t the problem, he is so proficient in enacting the masteries of the legendary Kazi that he does it without real thought, but standing as still and empty-minded as Adofo is trying to teach him is the real problem. These days, even a couple decades removed, anytime he tries to clear his mind and relax, he struggles to stop the voices in his mind that replay with no prompting, the voices of his family, of his friends, his mentors and teachers, his allies and his enemies even, the voices he will never hear again since the universe that he called home ripped into oblivion. After settling in the Fonlands, he seemed to find peace, but as the battle nears, it seems his old survivor’s guilt has been rekindled. He confided this to Adofo who is trying to help him find peace in calm so that he can heed the call of the Pattern and possess its full power.
“Fine job you are doing teaching him calm,” Djallon, a Ram Warrior of the Disc of Gu and member of the 4Warriors of the Fonlands along with Adofo, says as she braids the thick, wooly hair that grows between her ears and around her head in a large puff. She tames it into thick braids as she sits on a large stone in a field of grass near the Golden Basilica.
“I am upset because it doesn’t seem like he is even trying,” Adofo barks, speaking to Djallon but glaring at Ali.
“I told you I was struggling!” Ali barks back and they both look ready to convert their frustration to physical violence.
“Struggling means you are putting forth effort to take some action, you are just ruminating in there! Golden Executioners do not ruminate! We stand guard, empty of the personal and alert to the possible threat. Anything less compromises the lives of the Justices of the High Court. Maybe that is the urgency you need to clear your mind.”
“I’m not an Executioner! This is called training, you fucking psycho!” Ali is very angry now and his hair that is also an afro (not as big as Djallon’s, but impressive nonetheless) begins to spark with bolts of silver lightning.
“If you wear the armor, you guard the Justices,” Adofo growls and as he lifts both his hands, a sepow knife appears in each of them connected by a golden rope. “Now, calm your mind, or I will calm it for you.”
Djallon appears between them, not through magical means, but the two are distracted until she forces herself between them. She only wears the bottom of her armor and a red tank top, her hair half braided.
“This was a dumb idea,” she says looking between both of them. “Adofo, you are no teacher. And Ali, what you suffered, what happened to your home, was unprecedented. No one knows how to cope with such a loss, least of all this guy. You have to chart your own way forward, but you won’t do it alone, you have friends who care for you and the Fonlands is your home if you will choose it.”
“I would still like to lasso you with my sepow, but Djallon does speak for me,” Adofo adds. “You do not deserve to be haunted by the past, and maybe my way is not a lasting solution for you, but it can be a way to cope when it becomes overwhelming. When your internal voices are loud, focus on the subtle sounds around you for distraction. Focus on the sounds of footfalls on golden pathways, the breeze against the fabric of a High Justice’s robe, the things you don’t normally associate with sound.”
“Spoken like a true patternist,” they hear and turn to see the Vodun Sakpata approaching them. “Very nice to see you all again, and hard at work, as we all are these days.”
Ali, Adofo, and Djallon all bow to the Vodun.
“Your words are the highest compliment, Vodun,” Adodfo says.
“Knowing that your kin will be guarding my siblings against Une gives me great comfort, Executioner.”
“As it should,” Adofo says and he looks flustered, overwhelmed by the complimentary Vodun. “I am devoted to the success of the Fonlands in the coming battle.”
“I know that you are of the Disc of Gu, warrior, but please educate me on your specifics,” Sakpata says to Djallon.
“I am of kin djallonke, rams of the southeastern Fouta mountain plains, noted for valor in the Arena. I proudly take my name from that of my kin.”
“You were born close to the overlap, where the volcanoes taper off,” Sakpata says with a nod, “You are a rare breed, the warlock of great discipline, I can see it in the red and grey of your armor. I heard tale that you were imbued with the green magic of Pultine during the mission to Talj. If that is true, then you are a being of extraordinary arcana and I would like you to join Ali and the others I am assembling to scout the full extent of our enemy’s corruption of the multiverse. I intend to verify the existences where her taint persists and to obliterate her when I am able, which should be easier because we should not encounter the bulk of her. You faced the threat beside Ali before, I am asking you to do it again with me.”
“Excuse me, Vodun, sir,” Ali says clumsily, afraid to interrupt the Vodun. “But, you say I’m coming with you? You think that’s the best idea? I mean, I came here hoping Adofo could help me settle myself. What happened to Talj, to my home, messed me up.”
“I know why you are here, Ali, and I believe that this mission will give you the focus that you desire. If you will trust me, I believe that this could be cathartic for you. You lost your home, and so have countless others, and together, we will cut Une’s tendrils that latch her to the multiverse to ensure that she will never do the same again. You will come with me, and so will Djallon, pride of her name and kin, and we will prepare the structure for its deliverance from its greatest enemy.”
They both agree to accompany Sakpata and they wave goodbye to Adofo who waits on the Disc of Xêvioso for his orders.
“Tracia is with something called a Death Witch,” Azalaan says to Sakpata when he returns to the Smiting Chamber. “They are in a swamp on the Disc of Agê. You should consider the Decay Witch, she is violet and green.”
“I think you have the wrong aboatia,” Sakpata says to Azalaan. “The Decay Witch is a good recruit, but it is Ahdis that I will invite, and she will bring Shini to make seven.”
“Are you questioning my dreams, Vodun?” Azalaan asks with mock offense.
“I am questioning your perception of your dream. Did you really see Tracia? Because I am sure that she will be next to Pultine and Agê when they face Une. Ahdis will agree because she knows that her sisters will be enough. And if it is Tracia and Decay, then who is the seventh?”
“The Dark Witch Sorcerer, who will insist on coming when you invite Decay.”
Sakpata is contemplative for a moment as he considers the options before him.
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