The Thousandfold Planes, a realm of many afterlives where the gods dwell in their mighty halls. We focus on one distinct domain, of solar dominance and lion symbolism. Two figures sit across from each other, with a sacred fire between them. The flame burned without end and flowed majestically like the breath of power. "Do you truly believe in this mortal youth, Manathan? Shall he return the Manas name to glory?" asked a young deity, his hair white and his robes crimson, in the house of Manas. The savory smell of fresh divine meat was laid upon the table between them. "By every means, my dear brother, Key," Manathan replied, drinking deep of honeyed libation, his voice a deep rumble. His muscles tensed with the weight of his words. "If he fails, the blood of Manas will fade into myth. He must carry the flame of the gods into a new age," Key said. "The scion carries the solar birthmark on his back. His blood is of lion and flame as ours was in time long lost," Manathan, the lion-maned deity, bellowed. "You place faith in the mortal, it seems. It reminds me of when we were demi-gods," Key reminisced. "In those days, you were a great source of wisdom to me, brother. But aye, my true faith is in his blood," Manathan explained. "Then we shall descend upon him and judge his actions before bestowing the gift of flame and power," Key declared. Manathan motioned over the pyre. "So we shall," Manathan proclaimed. Manathan bade the sacred fire leap higher, and a vision of a scion appeared. "A vision of the future," Key said. "Yes, let us see how he handles an enemy older than time," Manathan said. The fire flashed, reshaping into two titans locked in war. Buildings fell as civilians fled toward sanctuary. This behemoth, a blizzard of snow white fury, bore down toward the red and gold-clad fighter. The fire swirled as the gods stood witness to the mortal youth, who was ensnared in a struggle that would topple the foundations of his city.
The young hero was pushed forcefully into a wall, the palm of a beast most foul upon his face. The Beast of white fury roared a terrible bellow as the young hero gritted his teeth from pain. "If you think this will end me, I've faced worse entities stronger than you. Like a blazing inferno, you will see my strength," The Red Sun said. The next moment, the Red Sun unleashed a flaming punch that rocked the beast. The yeti delivered a painful response. "You will pay for your forebears' crimes, for the burning of our sacred mountain, the exile of my people!" the yeti cried. The Yeti then hit the Red Sun with a large fist. Righteous fell to the ground, and blood trickled from his mouth, but used a torrent of flame aimed at the ground to lift off, recovering and kicking the Yeti.
"Yeti, you must stop this! Our battle will end lives." The Red Sun demanded. As the Yeti beat his chest, the building began to collapse around them. The hero lay trapped underneath rubble. The Red Sun tried to summon all his strength to break free from this heavy burden. He managed to lift the debris halfway. The Yeti was moving and throwing debris off himself. He was recovering faster than the Red Sun.
The Young hero thought to himself in that moment of pure agony and distress. I must free myself from this rubble… There are people in danger. I had not seen anyone evacuate this building yet. I must temper my rage… My rage? No, I must use my rage as a manifestation of power through ancestral might. One that was a beacon of free will. This reminded me of something. From months ago. Where it all began. When I was still just a poor boy from Shore City... My city. And now with this monster terrorizing my home, I can't let this beast hurt the people trapped. "Red Sun, more debris is coming down!" warned a trapped civilian. "Save us!" "Oh God!" I must remember the reason why I fight.
The heavy crash of the waves outside muffled the sound of Righteous getting his usual beat down. After school, the hallways were almost deserted, especially where this brutalization was happening. The wind whistled through the halls as Righteous faced his assailant. His grey and black striped hoodie had been terrible armor for a high school fight. It had been grabbed and pulled, and Righteous had been tossed around, but he still stood his ground.
This wasn't his first beat down, and it wouldn't be his last. But Righteous would be damned if he let him hurt Yuno any more. Righteous caught a right hook, which stung like multiple bee stings, and knocked him across the school floor. He crashed into the lockers with a thud and a metallic clang, which echoed down the hallway.
Sketches of knights and superheroes spilled from his backpack. Yuno was starting to regain consciousness. "It's happening again…" He looked at the pages, and they fluttered across the linoleum like wounded birds. "Look, Joko, I'm begging you. Just stop messing with him. He's my best friend, and I won't stand for it anymore," Righteous's voice shook as he tried to rise.
Yuno lay nearby, his glasses were shattered, one lens missing entirely, and blood trailed from his nose. Yuno tried to stand, but landed back on the ground. But Righteous, battered as he was, still pushed himself upright, body trembling from the blow. Joko sauntered over, his black tank top clinging to his athletic frame. He grabbed a handful of Righteous's Afro and yanked his head back. "You're not even standing now, pissant. Don't get in the way of two men fighting again," Joko sneered. "Learn that some shit just ain't none of your business."
He dropped Righteous's head with a crack against the tile floor and turned back toward Yuno. I can't let him touch Yuno again, Righteous thought. Pain screamed through his body, but he forced himself to crawl. With a burst of speed, Righteous rushed past Joko, Feeling the wind, Joko was surprised at the sudden movement, and he tried to grab him, but Righteous slipped through. He wrapped his body protectively over Yuno, shielding him. Joko stopped, genuinely shocked. His eyes narrowed. "You're simply pathetic, Manas, but your hero shit pisses me off," he muttered. "I'll see you tomorrow. Get in the way again? Same result." He spat at the ground and walked off.
Moments later, Yuno stirred. He blinked through swollen eyes and cracked lenses. His voice was a whisper, rough yet grateful. "Righteous...? Come on, man. Not again," he whispered. "You can't keep protecting me... but thank you." Righteous pushed himself up and offered Yuno a hand. Yuno took it, wobbling slightly as he got to his feet. "You know I can't just let my guy get beat up alone," Righteous said, brushing off his pants.
Light shone through the school windows in the hallway. "Besides, people like Joko don't deserve easy prey." Righteous placed a hand on his bruised cheek. Yuno shook his head. "Regardless, my nose is leaking profusely. Please drag me to the nurse, and thank you," he said as he tried to stop the bleeding with his hand. Righteous smiled. Then he gladly put one of Yuno's arms over his shoulder to help him limp to the nurse's office.
He tried to ignore his pain as well. Limping was difficult due to the multiple kicks they'd taken from Joko. The smell of copper wafted from Yuno's bleeding nose. They stepped through the empty hallway, their footsteps tapping along.
"You think the overachiever is gonna be mad at us?" Yuno asked. "Nah, probably will just be more upset than mad," Righteous said. "Why's that?" Yuno asked. "You'll find out." Righteous foretold. Finally, they made it to the nurse's office and collapsed in front of her, and she gasped and rushed toward them. She looked them over and sighed, "Not again boys…" She got the usual tools out.
"Mr. Manas, Mr. Gikata, how on earth did you end up like this!?" Miss Neracka exclaimed. "I'd tell you, but my mouth is actively filling with blood, Miss Neracka," Righteous mumbled. Miss Neracka proceeded to clean and examine them both. She was gentle. The smell of the nurse's room was that of rubbing alcohol and sanitizer. She was used to patching them up. They always got into fights. Well… at least Righteous did. He always tried to prove something, especially his worth. Yuno at least tried to survive the day. "Don't lie like last time, Righteous, I'll know. Who did this to you and why?" the nurse said. Righteous tensed his muscles in nervousness. "I… I was protecting Yuno from another one of our repetitive brutes," Righteous explained. "I can concur with this. Righteous was just helping me out, like usual. It was a pretty bad beating this time," Yuno said as the nurse applied rubbing alcohol to his bleeding bruises. "It was Joko again, wasn't it?" She said, almost omniscient. "Yes, it was, I didn't want to say the name because I know he's on the verge of his last offense," Righteous said. "Why protect him if he beats on you all the time?" The nurse asked. Righteous looked over at Yuno whose head was down and face was sullen. "Ya know, I can't say for sure there's rage, sure, I'm upset when he touches Yuno… but everyone deserves a chance. I just wish he could see the light instead of punching mine out." Righteous hung his head low. "You've always inspired people, Righteous, even if you don't think so," The nurse said. "Thank you…" Righteous was grateful for the compliment. The nurse turned to Yuno. "What do you think about all of this?" "I'm not sure… the whole argument was over a hypothetical question he asked," Yuno explained. "What was Joko's question?" She asked with curiosity. "He asked what you are willing to fight for… I said I'm not sure why he was asking, next thing I knew I was waking up on the ground, Righteous shielding me." Yuno pushed his glasses up on his face. "That must've been confusing," the nurse said, applying a bandage on Yuno's bruises. "It was, but I agree with Righteous, everyone deserves a second chance." "Look, I'll keep this a secret for now, but if this happens again, I'm going to the proper people. I'm tired of patching you kids up." Then, suddenly, the nurse's door opened and in walked a girl in an oversized sweater, with hair the color of orange and flame. She sauntered over to the two boys as if she was always by their side anyway. She first greeted the nurse. "Thank you for protecting my two dunces, my dear miss Neracka," The girl whose skin was the color of soft bronze said. "Anytime Kiara, the injuries were minor," Miss Neracka said. "If I were them I'd let that jerk, Joko, float down the river for what he does to them." Kiara declared. "You can see who the real fire is behind our trio," Righteous said. His head hung low with the pull of a smile. Kiara smiled and checked Yuno out first. "You didn't deserve a nose crack. Maybe you should sue him posthaste." Kiara suggested. "I'm tougher than I look, over-achiever." Yuno teased. "We should probably head home guys, maybe grab something from Gem Shack. I'm getting hungry after the beating." Righteous said. "I'm probably gonna head home. I've got to study for Workshop class." Yuno explained. "You studied for shop class? Isn't that kind of weird?" Kiara questioned. Yuno brushed his hair back. "There are certain forms and tools that I need to study. I'd rather you not call my craft weird. Besides, you join just about every extracurricular activity," Yuno retorted. Kiara was puzzled by this "Isn't it good to have that for college entrance exams and applications?" The nurse sparked up "Very true, Kiara, focus on your studies, the three of you, and I'd recommend going to college. Now I think it's high time you all be off. Remember what I told you and stay safe out and about," The nurse suggested. They all proceeded to take their leave from the nurse's office.
They traveled to the entrance of the school as it was the end of the day. "I'll be seeing you two." Yuno gave Righteous a secret wink while Kiara's back was turned. "See you," Righteous and Kiara said in unison. They both blushed at this. Kiara was about to walk off before Righteous stopped her. "Hold up, Kiara, I wanted to talk to you about something important," Righteous stammered. He sweated as he held his hand out. Kiara stopped in her tracks and turned to him, the school's backdrop centered on them. The silence of the empty school was echoing yet personal. The wind shook Righteous' hair, and whipped Kiara's sweater in different directions. "Yes, Righteous, I hope this isn't another favor to coach you on math homework," Kiara said as she giggled. Righteous went deadpan. "I will be asking that during finals for sure, but this isn't about that. I can't lie to you anymore." Righteous confessed. He rubbed the back of his sun-shaped hair. "You know how I feel about liars. You better fess up and keep it honest." She warned. Righteous shuddered as he always did when she warned him about something. Kiara was always trying to find the truth ever since she joined the Young Journalists of America club. One of numerous clubs she joined.
"Do you remember our childhood when we used to go to the tree house with all three of us?" Righteous asked. "Of course back in those days you used to ride your bike all over town helping people and doing chores for the neighborhood. You were an inspiration." Kiara complimented. "You also managed to carry all the logs to build it. You were always strong when determined," Kiara said. "Well you always volunteered with your parents at the soup kitchens and helping the poor and homeless. Me and grandma were very grateful to have food in our bellies," Righteous said gratefully. "What are you getting at Righteous?" She said blushing slightly. Righteous' gut was a flutter with butterflies, but the recent beat down knocked some sense into his head… Why keep things hidden between them? "I like you not just in a friendly way if you know what I mean." Righteous confessed. "I think I do, but Righteous, we've been friends for a long time. To change it… this is a bit sudden." Kiara admitted. "All the more reason to say it, as if leaves fall without knowing where they land," Righteous said eloquently. "Poetic bastard…" Kiara said. Kiara swayed for a moment not sure how to respond before doing a little hop and pointing her finger at him. "Alright I'll give you a shot Manas take me somewhere right now and try to convince me. Prove you've got what it takes to impress me…" Kiara challenged. Righteous Fist bumped into the air as if the mountains trumped a victory too soon. "Don't jump for joy yet, Righteous, I'm not easy." Kiara said. "I… wouldn't dream of implying that." He said a bit more humble. "I'm taking you to Gem Shack if that's okay…" Righteous asked. "Let's be off then, moral boy.
The trip to Gem Shack was easy yet troubling. The burger joint, in the downtown district of the city, was relatively close to Righteous' home. The homelessness was rampant in the city and costs of living just kept going up. They passed tent cities under bridges on the way. The city smelled of grime and pollution. The smell of grease and cooked beef filled their senses. People were lined up in the drive-through. Other pedestrians entered and exited the restaurant. Righteous offered to hold Kiara's hand as they walked but she refused with a lifted hand that said no… Kiara wasn't ready for that kind of physical contact. "Sorry…," Righteous said. They made it in and ordered food. The cashier said, "Welcome to Gem Shack where we strive for unique food design. What can I get you?" Righteous ordered Triple Garnet Shake; a layered drink with three bold flavors: strawberry, mango, and dragonfruit swirled together with glowing crystals of vitamin burst, served in a tall glass with a glowing straw. Kiara ordered the Inferno Bowl; spicy fire-grilled chicken, over gemstone rice with jalapeño-pineapple glaze, and a garnish of chili-lime sparks.
They sat down with their food and Righteous looked out the window. He wasn't sure what to say. Kiara spoke first. "Righteous, it's funny we know so much about each other already but considering the framing of this, it seems stalled in a way," Kiara explained. "Maybe but I appreciate you giving me a chance, I mean it means a lot to me," Righteous explained. "True but just don't forget to make conversation, moral boy," Kiara teased. "So… how's the student council going? You told me you were made vice president?" Righteous pulled up his jacket sleeves. "I am indeed. "Victor is president, though… After the election, I was runner-up, so that meant the vice presidency." Kiara explained. "Well, you did succeed at something, maybe it'll work out," Righteous said. "Maybe I should stage a formal coup. Victor is a total jerk anyway. Always strict and a kiss-ass to authority." Kiara joked but only half-seriously. "Do you have a different opinion on authority besides just teenage rebellion? I know your parents pushed you to join the student government." Kiara scratched her head, not ready for the question. "Yeah… They just don't see it my way. I'm all for preparing for college but they take it to an extreme. To your question though. I want to change how the school operates from the inside. The actual faculty might just listen to me instead of ignoring real problems. Like bullying and the school's richer students getting away with anything." Kiara exposited. "Very true, as a victim of these injustices, this is a good method," Righteous said. Kiara stared at him for a noticeable minute, "Then why do you always forgive instead of fighting for yourself?" Kiara questioned. "Because it's what my grandma taught me. A firm moral code and kindness are virtues after all." Righteous took a sip of his shake. "Look Righteous, I worry about your head sometimes. It's almost every day someone belittles you. I know it comes from your strict moral code but sometimes the weight of choices doesn't have to be on your shoulders alone," Kiara said, finishing the last bite of her burger and wiping her mouth. "We've all had to grow up too soon, Righteous... My advice, be a teenager for once." Kiara said with a twinge of disappointment. "Would you be willing to share the burden with me? And stand by my side?" Righteous asked, looking into her eyes. Kiara sighed and finally held Righteous' hand. It made his ears hot. His anxiety spiked and his heart pounded like a drum. Kiara hesitated, trying to collect her thoughts. She fidgeted with the wrapper of her burger, folding it into an airplane. "Righteous, I think we make amazing friends but with how you operate the way you back down, I can't imagine dating you. This changes nothing… I hope. Let's continue to support each other the way we always have," Kiara confessed. Righteous' heart sank but he clawed his way toward composure. "I completely understand it was wishful thinking. I still have feelings but that's for me to work out. Thank you for still being my friend," Righteous said with careful wording. "So, formal as usual this isn't a job interview, Manas," she said while giggling. "I know… well it's getting late we should head to our houses," Righteous said. "You're right, I didn't realize how late it was, my parents will want me home soon."
They go their separate ways and Righteous heads off and reflects on the day. If this is how things are, how will I continue or face her tomorrow? Maybe our friendship history will save us. But when I look into her eyes I am ignited. Never before have I seen a visage that captured my heart. Like the sun's rays, she shines brighter than any star. Her beauty is so magnificent that I long to draw her. In all honesty, I already have, but am I just infatuated, lost in a teenage love? I must remember not to get hung up or obsessed. My passion was a tumbling boulder heavy on my soul, yet ever quaking my heart. However, it would be shallow to think of only her image. She is so practical, so driven, so willful… I admire her qualities because she's everything I lack, like a missing piece of my soul… Righteous touches the hand that touched hers, and held it close to his chest… Maybe if I just try to change, little by little, she'll see me in a different light. I just hope it's not too late. What can I say? Hope is all I've ever had.
Righteous finally reached the familiar steps in the Lower District; it was a rather long walk from his house to school. The familiar sounds of hot dog vendors and groups of people talking in the parking lot settled him in a way. His apartment was a ramshackle place of poverty. However, it was better than living on the street like he and his grandmother once did. His grandmother did her best to raise him alone after his father disappeared and his mother died. Righteous still remembered the rain… the cold pouring rain they avoided under bridges. He climbed his steps counting each one like always before making it to the top. He opened his apartment door and a number was mounted on it. It showed 888. As he opened the door a quaint and clean home was shown. The living room, the first thing one would see upon entering, held a subtle, cheap couch with a quilt on it. Righteous' grandmother loved quilts, they were passed down through her family and she took care of them well. The quilt was woven with red and black embroidery with a yellow base. A pattern of intricate design covered the quilt. Righteous felt how soft it was; it reminded him of the cold nights in the city when they were on the street. His grandmother would wrap Righteous in it as a small child. It was the last warmth he'd ever remember, or so he thought. However, those days were behind them through hard work they both made it off the streets and into a broken down home. Sometimes the water in the kitchen leaked severely. This filled Righteous with rage. Water falling on his grandma's head wasn't good for her health; she got sick often, and stagnant water was a breeding ground for germs. There were cracks in the roof. The floor creaked heavily, which their neighbor often complained about to them. Righteous and his grandmother always bowed their heads and apologized even though it wasn't their fault. The landlord hardly came to fix anything. Righteous' grandmother walked through the hallway from her bedroom. She coughed and shuffled into the room. Her multi-colored bandana tied perfectly to her head. Righteous knew it was from a nap.
"Grams, How was your nap? You look rested," Righteous asked. He came over to give her a quick hug. She squeezed him tenderly. Yet Righteous could feel her shaky bones. "It was very disturbing actually… I had the strangest dream..." She touched her cheek gently. "Nightmare?" He asked. "No actually. It was a lion breathing fire so strange it made me rather sad. It reminded me of your grandfather god rest his soul. He always had a flame that roared for miles," She said a single tear falling. "Grandma, I hate to see you cry. But don't hold back like you taught me, emotions must flow," Righteous Explained. Righteous' grandfather was an archeologist; his research found new discoveries in the era of antiquity. He wasn't as moral as Righteous or his grandmother. He was an adventurer whose time ended too soon. His grandmother touched Righteous' cheek. "You're such a good boy Righteous. Never stop being you… the moral man you're growing into will change the world," His grandmother said. "Thanks, grams, I don't know where I'd be if you hadn't taken me in. You showed me the way to a life of moral rectitude. Like a flame that won't go out burning eternally." Righteous said with a wave of his hand. "So poetic you should write your poems down Righteous. Also your drawings! You'll be famous one day." His grandmother praised. Righteous sat down on the couch with a huff. He still thought about Kiara's rejection, and the stress was leaving the body. "One day I will maybe." Righteous responded. "Did you take your medicine, Grams?" Righteous asked. "Yes in fact I feel a bit better than yesterday. How was your day Righteous? You look sullen. I hope everything was alright at school," His grandma said. "Grams, it was stressful with all the tests we were doing and I got into a screaming match with a person bullying Yuno." He said and told a half lie. It stung the young man, yet he thought, anything to protect my grandmother from more sadness. He thought. "Are you sure it wasn't a fight? You have a bandaid on your cheek and are those bruises?" His grandmother questioned. "Uh, I managed to hurt myself during gym class when a foot ball hit me pretty hard," Righteous explained. "Ah, so I see… Yuno was getting bullied. Never forget to tell an adult when something happens. Yuno is a sweet boy as well. He's like a second grandchild to me. I'll have to thank him again for fixing the electric. You know that you should bring him over for cake tomorrow." His grandmother offered. "I will, Grams," Righteous said. "Speaking of, I should get started on dinner and preparing the cake. Want to help me bake like when you were young?" his grandma asked. "Of course I wouldn't miss that for the world," Righteous said earnestly.
Righteous after baking with his grandmother decided to rest. His recent lie to his grandma didn't serve to improve his mood. He was so emotionally drained from the fight and the direct rejection from Kiara, he didn't even do his usual drawing before bed. At most, he'd draw a mixture of comic book style with a touch of realism. He was chasing style and knew he should be chasing the basics. His body aches from his recent injuries. Joko did a number on him. Righteous applied some heating and cooling gel to his bruises. He thought, on the day, especially the first event with the fight. He thought, Joko is starting to become a menace to me and Yuno… I just wish I could understand the guy. That weird question too? What are you willing to fight for? A proposition to duel or a genuine inquiry into Yuno's perspective? Who's to say. However, it makes me think, what am I willing to fight for? Is it my grandma? The greater good? Where do my loyalties truly lay? Maybe I have none but it doesn't seem so. I care about morality, sure, but how much is nature vs nurture? The tides lap like my home ocean. Yet a fire burns within my soul radiant like an ocean of flame. A testament to his own grandfather's will. Had he not passed maybe, Righteous and his grandmother would've had a better life.
The next moment, his eyes closed and then his dreams came but they were not his usual flights of fancy and wonder at grand adventure. It was a haze of grey and then bright red. Then, he found himself sitting on a chair. It was regal and comfortable, like his blood belonged there. As if he had returned home twice in the same day. Ahead of him was a long table filled with food, meat of chicken and beef, strange cuts from animals of distant lands. It smelled like a carnivore's den. But it had a sweet aroma from the goblets on the tables. It looked like honey but thinner. The torchlight was warm upon Righteous' skin. The stone walls with cracks and heraldry of lions and suns created an ancient atmosphere. Righteous sat at the head of the table. A grand placement, one he had not felt worthy of. He sat awkwardly in the regal chair made of what he assumed was oak. The hall was large, and decorated with gold and rubies. What was most peculiar, were the people sitting across the table. Men and women of bronze skin and wild, untamed afros, similar to Righteous'. They wore different clothing. One had on armor that looked Medieval. Another looked more tribal. Righteous didn't recognize any of them. Each of them wore a tribal Sun on their backs. It glowed through their clothing. Righteous had one too; he had carried it for as long as he could remember. The awe of the setting made Righteous' breath catch in his throat. His eyes widened.
At the end of the table a man appeared to eat and sup the honey like drink. Eating his fill. He looked at Righteous for a long while before speaking. His body was muscular, and brawn made flesh. The others in attendance lowered their heads in respect as he spoke. "Boy, it's customary in my time and yours to say hello. I expect you to greet me. I know Matilda, your grandmother taught you manners." The muscular, lion-maned man said. "Where am I? Oh, I suppose you're right, hello good sir. Where have I come to?" Righteous asked fervently. "Come now and sup with me Righteous… take a drink and eat. You're among family. You may call me Manathan," Manathan said, and invited him to dine. "Gladly, but I'm still confused. It's like I've been placed in a fantasy book!" Righteous exclaimed. "Calm yourself young one, this place is called the thousandfold plane, an existence with a thousand after lives," Manathan explained. "Am I dead?" Righteous asked hoping that the answer wasn't yes. The men and women laughed vigorously at his question. 'A good sign' Righteous thought. "No, boy you're one of the few who have traveled the plane while still living," Manathan said holding up a hand to make the laughter stop. "We are you ancestors… come now you feel it in your blood don't you?" Manathan questioned. "You're right; it feels like how it felt to be with my grandmother…. Like home if home was a foundation of love and acceptance," Righteous responded. "Good you're perceptive. Righteous my boy you are here for a reason and you must humor me and be at peace for I have much to tell you," Manathan foretold. "What might that be, am I the chosen one?" Righteous asked half joking half excited at a yes." In a manner of speaking. You are part of the legacy… One of fire and lion's blood, boy. Your journey sets you on a path to manhood. Your purpose is yours to choose. The power we may bestow is yours to decide. if you prove yourself, for whom will you wield it, and how," Manathan inquired. "Make sense please, why am I here, ancestor?" Righteous asked. Manathan leaned back in his seat and clasped his hands together in thought. "Youre here to enjoy a celebration before your trial," Righteous eyes widened… "What kind of trial?" Righteous asked nervously at this news. "One of fire and solar legacy. By tomorrow's end you will face judgment in order to see if you can carry the flame," Manathan bellowed as he held his hand out and fire ignited in his palm. The young man felt the heat from across the hall. The hall fell silent as they all watched the fire in Manathan's hand dance. Righteous nearly fainted from the shock. "Why me? I've always been meek. How am I to wield this power?" Righteous asked, and felt unworthy. The rest of the dining table made a stern face at him. Manathan, like the most stern father, was disappointed. "Boy, does a meek soul protect a friend when they've been brutalized? Does a meek soul express his love for another? Does a meek soul forgive transgressions made against him? Does a meek soul survive the worst condition day in and day out? Bolster yourself my generational son. You've gained respect from higher beings and they are watching," Manathan proclaimed. "I will do my best for my ancestors. However, dropping this on a 15 year old is crazy," Righteous was as honest as he could be. "Boy, I was just two years older than you when I crushed enemies and suffered loss. It is your time now, however, enough cryptic messages, enjoy the feast with us and celebrate your blood while your body sleeps. Your soul now dances in revelry," Manathan said, raised his glass. The others followed suit with their glasses in unison. They all cried out from their very souls. "To Righteous the scion of future flame! May his soul burn for the people!" They exclaimed. After that they were merry with celebration music was played, as they talked amongst themselves, they told stories to Righteous, of battles long past of a world that was long gone. The music began to go into a low hum. The laughter began to echo in Righteous' mind. Then he lost consciousness and the last thing he saw was their eyes turning black and red.
Righteous woke up in a sweat, not sure if that dream was real or not. The taste of honey was still on his tongue and he could still remember the heat from Manathan's flame, and even the echoes of laughter lingered in the back of his mind. Man, I have a weird imagination… But what if… No, there can't be magical ancestors who want me to achieve some sort of goal. If they were real, where were they when we were hungry? When Grams had to choose between her medicine and food? But my tongue remembers the meat and honey, and my ears are heavy with Manathan's words. I've got to think more on this. Good thing it's Saturday. He shook off the doubt in a moment of decision. Righteous grabbed his trench coat and fingerless gloves and raced down the stairs and flew by his grandmother who folded laundry. "I'm headed to the shoreline Grams. I'll be back as soon as I can!" Righteous said. "Don't go swimming because that city water is nasty," She said to her hasty grandson. As he bolted down the stairs, a red and black cat meowed, lounging on the railing of the stairs.
Righteous ran past the tent city and headed towards the beachfront across the city. He didn't stop running. He thought, I have to get to my stash. If the trials are real, this is my moment. I've waited my entire life to be a hero. No one will take this from me. The beach is where I clear my head, after a beatdown, after a failed test, when poverty gets me down. I know in my soul the trials will start there, but what if I'm not enough? Will my dream of heroism be crushed into dust? I have to smother my fear, and change like Kiara said. I feel it in my chest, like the smell of rain before a storm… heavy, electric, full of promise and threat. The beach is where the sun is strongest. The heat from my dream reminded me of it, ironic considering my dream of fire made flesh. This must be where my trial starts!
The beach was deserted, strange for a Saturday. Silence clung to the area. It gave the beach an eerie quality. Righteous was too focused on his mission to notice. As he traversed the beach, sand crunched underneath his boot. He found his stash nestled away in a grove near a forested area of the beach. He entered the grove and found the secret base, a tree house the trio of friends once used. They had used it less since they became teenagers. It is quite hidden. You wouldn't be able to see it unless you were looking for it. "I hope it's still here…" Righteous pleaded. He climbed the tree house. It was quite large, and the three of them built it all summer. Even at 5'11" he could still fit. It brought back memories of Yuno making the designs and Righteous doing most of the heavy lifting. Kiara provided the wood, since her father worked for a hardware store. As he climbed, he could remember when they acted out different adventures… mysteries, action scenes from movies, they even read comics together. In the treehouse was a pile of old comic books Righteous treasured, old-time electronics Yuno would tinker with, and a pile of origami that Kiara would make. In the middle was a chest. Righteous pulled a key from his pocket. He always kept it on him in case he had to actually fight one day. He unlocked it with a click and opened the now dusty chest. Inside was a science project Yuno treasured, a constant motion machine which never stopped spinning. Kiara put her diary in the box and threatened them to never try to read it. And finally Righteous' item, a genuine Katana received by a homeless man from back in the day. All he said was "One day he'd need this," he had told his grandmother. She was skeptical, but appreciated the gift. Once they got a real home they examined it and got it appraised at a pawn shop. It was very much real so he kept it. Righteous held it in his hands for a moment… It weighed less than he remembered, maybe because he was older now. However now it had a different weight altogether, one of choice and prophecy. "Now that I have this again I'll be ready. Or at least have a slight chance," Righteous said, face-palmed gently and sliding his hand down his face. The constant motion machine spun faster than he remembered with an audible hum. It sent a shiver down Righteous' spine.
Righteous exited the treehouse and returned to the main part of the beach. Emotion was welling up, and he didn't know what to do next. He paced back and forth swinging the blade. "Damn, what am I doing, for God's sakes. Waiting on the beach because of a dream… I'll never be a hero. I'll only be the guy who gets beat. He fell to his knees in despair. The sea's salt clung to his face. The wind whistled through his trench coat. He clutched his shoulders and began to cry. However, a memory surfaced from the depths of his heart, something his grandmother once told him. They sat in the gutter and Righteous was crying because of hunger. He struck his own head in frustration. His grandmother held him. "I'm ready to give up, Grams," Righteous confessed to her. "If there's one thing I never want you to do is give up. To give up is death Righteous. You have a long way to go. Make me proud, grandson. Hold on a moment longer!" as she held Righteous tighter in the gutter. Righteous rose to his feet, gripped his sword like a warrior of old, and bellowed a scream. It echoed across the waves, startling a group of seagulls. The scream was a statement to his ancestors. It needed no words. It meant… Give me my chance.
Righteous then felt an energy like never before, and he lifted off the ground as if by a powerful force. His chest became weightless and his stomach sank as he rose off the ground. The roar of the wind ripped him upward, fast. He was pulled up to the clouds, then past the firmament. Stars burst into view as the heavenly heights disappeared behind him. He was shot into space, and before he knew it, he was floating in front of the sun. A being of light emerged from the sun, a woman whose skin was a deep brown tone. She floated closer to Righteous. Her robes were crimson and her face had a motherly gaze. Her glowing halo was so bright he could barely see her face. This being was immense, and her body overshadowed Righteous'. She said, "Child of Flame, your trial begins here, do you accept?" Righteous was viscerally terrified. He jerked back and forth. The cold void unnerved him, but he relaxed, set his jaw, and made a determined face. "I accept!" he yelled. He was then transported to open plains. Distant trees were scattered across it. There were dry winds that scattered his focus toward the distance where darkness brewed.
Righteous knew that this would be a hard fought battle. The thought quickened his heartbeat, but he gripped his sword hilt tight. "Alright Righteous Manas, keep focused," he told himself. Righteous journeyed for hours. The grasslands slowly gave way to rocky terrain. At last, he reached a great mountain. Its slopes were draped in shades of green. It was both a challenge and a trial. "I've always followed my intuition, better to keep to that instinct." Righteous stated. He began to climb the mountain. Its height threatened to reach the heavens. Righteous was a decent climber while not well nourished most of his life. His breath came heavy, yet he maneuvered the slope with patience and practiced rhythm. His strength had been carved from years of hardship. Jagged rocks made it difficult to get a grip. Dirt and dust fell on Righteous' face, yet he continued to endure. He was rather strong, but his endurance would meet its end soon. The sun beat down, forcing sweat to bead and run down his face. He wiped the sweat from his brow and continued. The mountain stretched longer and warped itself as he neared the top.
He then reached the summit. The clear blue sky of azure took Righteous' breath away. The summit was quiet, and lifeless, yet the solitude was comforting to Righteous. He felt like he could spend time here writing and drawing. The wind blew through his hair, and he thought, I would've never expected to see anything like this… Being from a city you expect to die from pollution before seeing the magnificent wonders of the world. In the middle of the summit, a stone tablet stood. Righteous looked at the etchings. It was in language that he did not recognize. He then tried to focus his thoughts, and suddenly his eyes turned black and red. The sensation was wild to him. His eyes itched yet he felt a power flow through him. Abruptly the words shifted before him. He was able to decipher the stone tablet. It read: The mind is a vessel of moral height, The body is the temple to willpower made manifest. The soul is a wellspring of the truest self. Righteous spoke the words out loud on the table and it began to glow a deep crimson. It began to rumble and shake violently. Righteous was curious and he was drawn to the tablet, so he touched it gently. And a flare went off and blinded him momentarily. When he gained sight back, a figure stood before him. It was a mirror reflection of Righteous. He had his face and his hair; It was the exact copy. Yet bolder, sharper, and all the more brooding. "This is so like a video game." Righteous reached out towards the figure.
It swatted his hand away and pulled its own black katana. Righteous pulled his red blade in defense, rolled back, and took off running. The mirror image followed close behind. Grass hissed as their boots parted the terrain. Each step pounded the earth. The wind split open as the shadow closed in. 'What the hell am I supposed to do now? I can't run forever. Damn it I'll have to face him. You can't be a coward.' Righteous pivoted on his heel and attempted a spinning kick meant to turn the mirror's rush against it. The kick landed squarely against the shadow's temple. It sent a jolt up Righteous' leg. The mirror image was knocked to the side. It rolled and got up twirling its blade. Righteous swung the blade whistling in the wind. Sharp steel clashed over and over again. Sparks flew each time their blades met, and jolts of impact rolled up both combatants' limbs. Righteous reeled back but that was his plan. The mirror image thought he was retreating… that was wrong. He twisted the grip of his blade; The pommel flashed into view, and smashed it into the mirror image's head. It fell and bled from the head. It fell to its knees. Righteous' chest twisted with guilt. He thought it did attack me. Was this the trial? Defeat it… end it? The thought sat heavy in his gut. I wouldn't dream of that. Righteous helped the mirror image to its feet. It looked confused and full of rage towards Righteous. It tried to swing again but Righteous dodged to the side. "Wait! Let me help you," Righteous pleaded. Its breath was ragged, and it was bleeding heavily, but Righteous ripped his sleeve and wrapped it around the copy's head stopping the bleeding. The gesture didn't calm it, but it didn't attack anymore. Righteous knew he'd chosen the harder path.
The wind eased, and the sun warmed them. Only the whisper of the grass remained. They both sat in the grass staring at each other. "Why attack me immediately? What's with all this rage towards me?" Righteous asked. The shadow's eyes flared. "Why wouldn't I cull a weakling… too weak to defend oneself, too weak to gain love…" the shadow responded in kind. "Don't think my mercy is weakness. I beat you. I'm stronger than you think," Righteous rebutted. "You are nothing but weakness. No help to anyone," the shadow bit. Righteous rolled his eyes. "I think I know what this is. This is about self-hatred. The tablet said that the mind, body and soul represented aspects of life. And that should be respected, even my own. I've not had a lot of self-love in my life. I always felt like I was a burden to my family and friends. It's why I strived to be meek. But no more. I am loved and I will learn to love myself." The mirror image's lip trembled. Its blade hung limp at its side. Then, with a shuddering breath, it began to cry. Righteous stepped forward and embraced the shadow into his arms, the kind of hug you give someone that has endured too much too soon. Righteous hugged him with as much care as he could. Light began to rise from the copy's skin, scattering like embers into the air. The shadow dissolved in a storm of starlight.
Righteous teleports back to the sun and the goddess. "You have passed, my child of flame," the goddess declared. "Return reborn… and you shall see the changes within," The goddess explained. "How will I use my power? What is my purpose?" Righteous asked. "That is for you to decide, Righteous. Now go forth and make the Thousand Fold Plane proud," the goddess bellowed. In that glorious moment, that rivaled all excitement in his life, he was jetted back to earth. He flew through that great void as if a cosmic promise. Through the endless darkness, he trailed like a living oath. He began to catch fire. The heat, however, was bearable. It felt like the embrace of an old friend. He became a comet burning in his own namesake. The clouds could not catch him; they evaporated on contact. The trees bent at his impact. Animals scattered from this divine event. Righteous crash-landed into the earth, close to where the treehouse was. Trees were scorched and he lay there in a crater of his own impact. He still burned as he lay unconscious. The question was: what boon had they bestowed upon him? Would this new power change him for better or worse? In time his prowess would rival the Sun itself.