Chapter 4

The sharp, potent pain resounded in her stomach, and she was viciously staggered back. Hope cried out in pain and as she focused a kick came and knocked her hard in the head causing her to spin like somewhat a top until she fell to the ground. She began to weep.

The man's voice around her said, "You brought this on yourself. He tried to warn you. But you wouldn't listen, and now you pay for it. It is better it comes from my hand than from the unrelenting hand of tainted human justice."

Hope tried to get up and she managed to and with a dreadful scream of both anger and fright she charged forward. The man side-stepped as gracefully as if he was a swan and with a sweep, knocked her left leg out from under her and with a whirl, he delivered another kick into the center of her chest sending her back but farther until the smack of her body was felt against the wall. She fell winded to the ground clutching her now inflamed stomach and aching chest.

She looked at the man as she struggled to breathe as he approached. Forty if he was a day, he was despite this, so beautiful. He was tall around 5'11 maybe six foot. Dressed in black jeans, perfectly laced and tied combat-boots a midnight-blue V-neck which showed off his pecks that seemed so perfectly sculpted just from glimpse alone. His hair was neatly cut not entirely military but just enough length to be stylish. His glasses were aviators, gold framed, and a lavender purple reflective lens. His teeth were remarkably white from what she had seen. So much so that she thinks she could see them in the pitch black. He stood silent and stoic, an Adonis of a soldier. Authoritative, strong, stoic, but deathly calm. He stood at attention his eyes she could feel fixed on him through the tinted mirrors of his glasses.

"Hope, this is the consequence of the struggle." The man said, his tone not condescending or derogatory but matter of fact, "This is the struggle and the lesson learned from the want to follow your will to meet your selfish human desires, whereas you could have listened to Him from the get-go and been given what you needed and not suffered this pain as consequence. But now, here we are. You wanted to act out of vengeance and out of hate. You went into the arena of judgment, and you acted as judge, your cronies acted as your puppet jury, and you acted as executioner. It is not your place to perform either office

And I know what you think, "Had I not done it, he would have gotten away that monster that fucking Paul would have gotten away." An interesting hypocrite is what you are. See, you turned a blind eye to Paul's shit for a long time; it was as He said to you before you started, "You only cared now because Josie was someone you cared about." And yes, you can argue she was connected to someone you cared about, oh how sweet reasoning to sate your conscience. But you still ignored so much other pain, Hope. So many other men and women who lost their kids in similar manners and you didn't bat an eyelash. Disposing of evidence so long as you got what? So long as you got some fucking beer that is no better than cat piss. And how very cheaply those very lives you swept under the rug till now were bought. Three cases of beer per life."

Hope was able to stand barely but she could. She utilized a basic spell to heal up her stomach so she could go forward. Hope glared at the man, and he looked at her, his face stoic, his eyes hidden by those impenetrable lenses. She looked at him and her hatred boiled and burned within, but she didn't by any shred of measure intimidate the man before her. Hope saw a pole behind him, and she tried to utilize what she could of the Unseen Hand technique. The technique used in an attempt to blind-side him as she was able to grasp the iron pole and she began swinging, but the man did the splits, making her miss him entirely. Then the man rolled left, making her miss yet again. The man reached out an extended hand in Hope's direction and then his other hand at the bar, and the connection was severed. The pole came down with a reverberating clang. The man got back up to his feet and was silent. Hope couldn't believe how this forty-something was able just to cut the connection like that.

"I'll tell you how." He replied, the shock that he could see into her brain was alarming "I was once so very much like you. I thought I knew every-fucking-thing under the damn sun. I thought I knew so much that I believed myself to know, a lot like you, all there was needed to know. The man or woman who thinks they know everything, they are setting themselves up for a fall.

I understand your culture and your heritage. Hope, that's why He sent me to you to perform this correction. I was once a great swordsman for the nation of Ledger-Domain this was far before you were even a glint in your dad's eye. I served what I believed to be dutifully; I slew and slaughtered. Murdered and conquered all for what I perceived to be a great and noble family. I was like you, I thought at a young age I did know it all. I knew all the moves and maneuvers of swordplay. I had slain many, countless sons and daughters, but what I cared about was the glory, the glory that came from the fear. This perception of power and subsequent respect was a lie I found out later. Respect doesn't come from fear. "

Hope concentrated while he talked, and she tried again with the technique trying to be surer with her strikes. But as she worked, the man dodged and was patient, dodging, rolling, flipping, back-flipping. And then again, he cut her connection before continuing.

"As I was saying, I was so confident that I couldn't be toppled. This confidence stemmed from experience as I had fought some truly worthy foes who had defeated me, but I came back stronger, learned from them, learned from their correction and my hot-headedness. I perfected my skills and refined my elements. Again, I rose, again, loving the element of fear and what I perceived as respect. But then, I came across a new champion. The man was mysterious yet beautiful. His face, hidden from me, but his actions and skill with the blade, so very precise and what could only be described as that of a true master of his craft. But more than those I was drawn to his honor, his nobleness, and fairness. It was something I had never seen before or since, and from that I desired to be like him."

Hope tried again getting a better grip, but instead, she decided to come from above, "Then why not marry the guy, you are such a fucking gay lord." She shattered a set of bulbs now restricting the room to half-darkness. The shards she used to the best of her ability using them as a series of small knives and daggers to attempt to strike the man before her. But she was still amazed that the man kept flipping, dodging, and went so far as to rebound off a wall and as she saw this, she sent the shards at him from below. She focused on him in her rage, and she saw he gave a form of finger-gun in her direction, and the connection was severed once more, and what was more noticeable, was a growing literal headache.

The man landed gracefully in the light he seemed to smile not in a smirk, but damn was it annoying to Hope. "If you're truly here at His behest, why the fuck did you kill my friends?" She yelled, "Why?! If you are truly representative of who you claim to be, I know He wouldn't do as you have done."

The man laughed just a bit, "Incorrect. Read the story of King David. See, he did as you did. A man who was a nobleman of God but he too fell a couple of important times, as we all do. He lusted after a woman he saw bathing; Bathsheba was her name. She was married to a Hittite by the name of Uriah who served in David's army. Now David committed adultery with Bathsheba, and she fell pregnant by him. Now David, though indeed a man of God or the Master as you call him, David was still human. Human desires, human impulses, human deviousness which was stemming from mortal fear of being caught. Because he knew he did was a genuinely deadly sin, never mind disgraceful.

However, it didn't mean David still didn't try all manner of avenues to try and get away with his sin. But all manner of unexpected things also got in his way of him achieving his selfish end of cover his shame. Again, not unlike you and your friends. Ultimately, to conceal his sin, he had Uriah killed and took Bathsheba as a wife. But see that didn't work out so well at all. God or The Master, did not like that at all, so He sent His prophet Nathan to David and after council when Nathan confronted the king with his misdeed in the form of parable, David already outraged at the story of the parable said, "As surely as the LORD lives, the man who did this deserves to die!" When told by Nathan, "You are that man." And further on the Lord's verdict of punishment, as you will read, it is exceptionally severe in that not only is the Lord's decree to bring real public shame to David but also to take the son he sired with Bathsheba.

Now you may indeed call this a tyrannical God but here's the thing, as God said, "You acted in secret, but I will do this before all Israel and in broad daylight." What's more what you, Hope, perceive me of doing wrong that God would never do as I have done, kill your friends. Don't be a fool.

His wrath is there, as is His judgment at the end of the day. He is slow to anger, sure. But He does anger. But He is not unjust; it merely is not in His nature. Contrarily He is the epitome of justice because guess what Hope? He set the standard of justice. Tyranny in your young, proud, and haughty mind, no that is not from Him. But you will find before your life ends the cruelty and evil that mankind both of man woman do. And so too, yourself. For humanity perverts justice in a desire to, as you do, to serve and fulfill the lusts and wants of your damned selfish heart."

Hope burned with anger, and now she tapped into her more directly applied magic, and she fired many bolts at the man before her. As she fought, she reflected on just how all of this came to pass. How what started as a genuinely typical day and a trip to see a concert that evening had devolved into murder and upon completion of the act, the deaths of those she had come to care about truly. But now, none of that truly mattered. But in her heart, if it had to matter, it only served a fuel of a perceived self-righteous fury to serve her main goal now the only one that mattered at present: To shut this accuser up forever.

Hope was getting a better handle on her rage as she tried to focus more on hitting a very agile target, "You didn't have to kill them! You fucking asshole!" continuing sustained firing of magic-induced blasts.

The man danced around, gliding under and jumping over each blast, "And you didn't have to kill Paul, but you did. Paul's death in association with the several deaths you also ignored for your benefit, oh yes, I'd say this balanced out quite nicely."

"Oh yeah?! Well, what the fuck would you have done? Have you ever been in my position, did you even care how I concluded Paul's death even happen? No, you only care about spouting your platitudes."

The man's seemingly stoic nature stopped, and he landed firmly on the ground, and with an outstretching of hand, Hope's mana was fizzled and went dry. Hope panicked as she saw this happened and tried very hard to generate some degree of mana to her hands. She panicked, even more, finding the effects of what this person had done as nothing worked. When she could usually feel her aura around her, it was a heated feeling, thus why she never was cold. But now, she felt quite cold. She looked at the man before her. He had not moved an inch not even so much as a muscle.

"What…what did you do?" she asked in a stunned but barely audible voice. She was now terrified. Cut off from her power that even Hex's principles of reconnection couldn't' effect. They had always been the surefire solution and now, nothing.

The man looked at her, knowing precisely what happened to her. For he remembered how it happened to him, but in a different way. He walked away from Hope just for a moment and came back with two lawn chairs and set them up. He sat across from the empty chair, and he gestured to her to sit in front of him. She was afraid, and rightly so. This man had appeared when everything with Paul and his friends had gone to shit. The sheer speed and precision by which she witnessed all her friends defeated by this person's hand, first as a group then even more quickly as individuals. She remembered how they all fought the being before them, but she remembered now her rage had settled how the man had done as he had been doing with her, all of her attacks seemed to do nothing, worse than nothing, not even connecting.

Hope was even more terrified than before as now this man was a mere two feet from her and the truth dawned on her, and this man was hardly trying. He had broken a sweat, sure, but apart from that, he was entirely untouched, not even so much as a scratch or a burn from the energy she was firing out. There was now silence between them, but inside her chest, her heart beat fast, and she was petrified. But the man saw this as he was in her situation many times.

He spoke, the very tone of his voice, soft and seemingly almost fatherly, "Hope, I have been where you were. I killed so many because I thought I was, like you, so very right. As you did, I acted without mercy or pity in my heart to exercise my perception of justice when, in all reality, it was vengeance tempered by hatred. Just like you, I met someone who more than outclassed me, but he was in every way, someone who after being soundly defeated, I truly wanted to be. As you are angry with me, what you think I have done, or what you think I don't understand, so I to was mad at my teacher.

My teacher, as I began to tell you, but you so callously cut me off, was everything I was not. And it hurt me that as it hurts you now, my perceptions of right and wrong and my way were just as flawed if not more so than your own. But then, something happened just it happened to you. All my power that I felt I could use to fight this man, all this skill and my perception of honor and prowess, meant nothing. As you grew frustrated with me, that you just now realized you didn't even touch me, so did I grow with my teacher.

My most beautiful works and techniques with my blade, the countless foes I had slain, all these men and women long dead moldering in their graves, all the hard-won victories and my haughty triumphs as I performed mock toasts to them in arrogant pride, meant absolutely nothing. Because of the fact, The Master…God was with and within this person. If He has turned his sword against you, you will look the fool countless times over until you have learned.

You are here now, learning in this way because I know what is to come for you should you choose to continue down this path willingly. Just as I have come against you at His behest to instruct you, it doesn't matter if I beat you to a pulp because it will only harden you more against what I say. Equally, if knowledge is given to you, you are no longer ignorant as to the wrong you do. But that said, it won't do any good if you choose not to apply it. Despite the hand, I am using against you measured in fairness as it is, if you continue down your path, you will meet with far harsher hands and more vicious minds to show you just what I wanted to teach you from the beginning. So it's up to you. What do you prefer?"

Hope was silent for a long time now that she has somewhat regained composure. She sighed and asked, "Why are you so eager to help me? Me of all people?"

The man looked at her, "Why not you? If a teacher sees a path in a youth where he has failed but knows how to actively help turn the results around before it is too late, would he not do so? If not for the sake of the individual he is teaching, that even if the individual is not reached, how to better refine his process to address similarly troubled people?"

Hope pondered this for a moment and then said, "I had heard of you from my father from the stories when I was young. I think I know who you are. You are Itrion formerly known as Itrion the Emasculator of the nation of Terath…correct?"

The man smiled somewhat, "Yes. But I come to you now, because He sent me. To help you to teach you if you are willing, but if not willing to learn, I can't help you, and all reality, no one can. But because I was humbled much as you were by my hand, I know that you can learn, and can learn, but like me, you have to put aside your assumptions and your half-baked knowledge before you proceed. It's okay to hold onto some remnants of those aspects. But the more you do, the more you will learn that you are proven wrong or your view is completely flipped on its head. That is a vital part of growth. To surrender in the end, you know far less than you thought."

Hope nodded, "Look, I knew you were a great swordsman, but why do you fight me with no weapon such a sword?"

Itrion smiled a little bit more now, "You see, I could give you a huge big-worded expositional bit of metaphysical BS, but in all reality, I forsook the sword even the sword the Master had given me because I truly wanted again on some level to embrace inner savagery. I want you to understand something right now. Just because you follow God or the Master, whatever you wish to call Him, it doesn't mean at all that your life is easier. In some regards, yes, but it also means the direct opposite honestly in many cases. But with that direct opposite in play, the benefits are unseen and seen but also immensely outweigh what is considered victory in this little world."

Hope was a bit visibly confused, and she asked, "What does that mean, 'victory in this little world?'

Itrion replied, "Well, it is directly what it means. See, it depends heavily on the individual in this context and what that individual considers to be a true victory. However, as I have seen both in myself and most people, consensus truly sees victory as how many cars you have. If not, how many academic degrees you have, how much money you may possess, how many people you may be related to by blood of prominence. At first glance alone, it is clear what many do consider victory, the vanities of this world, the treasures of this world and if not this, the praise of their fellow men and women resulting from the accruing of such aspects. This praise is turning into a legacy. Thus, as I have learned, there is no more poisonous a word or dangerous an aspiration than that of legacy."

Hope looked at Itrion and said, "So when you go back to savagery what did you mean exactly?"

"I mean that I was tired of the sword. I didn't see the value that it was; I didn't know the dedication and prowess I had attained once I had gone to God from my own life of pride. And subsequently how He blessed me with prominence and skill leading to victory against truly insurmountable odds by willed by Him. That said though; I also left because I was enthralled with the aspect of mastery of martial arts, but even then when I fully immersed myself, I fought without honor and quarter because my mindset had again fallen to the way of the world yet again.

It's like this. I traded in and left even more accurately the more noble path. This path was the way and the teachings of God in the form and use of the sword, which made me more magnificent than I ever was before, ever. This realization was in time revealed to me, that I had left the more skillful path and substituted it for the mundane for the more straightforward way, the quicker route, the path that required not so thought, practice or sacrifice. And from it, I traded in my sophistication and learned disciplines from God, and I embraced a simpler path that was more gratifying immediately but even then, I realized the challenge was not so much there, and I yearn right now go back to the way of the sword. To its art and discipline and patience required.

Imagine if you will that you have had an immense skill from a basic level, but also that you attained higher and even your most excellent skill from a God who wishes to let you be a testimony of Him through the power He gives you to conquer even your mightiest foes. But because you are tired of it, you leave it, and you embrace a more savage, more admittedly foul art without class or dignity or bearing or patience or anything required to win so much as grit and want to defeat an enemy. But because you want that instant gratification, that great feeling of the rush of real vicious conflict, you embrace a way that is not anything like what you came from and so you become savage, cruel, angry reflecting the people which you fight and the new art of fighting which you like because of fame and fortune primarily."

Hope listened, "It sounds like you were spitting in your God's face when you left what He gave you and yet you embrace this new way."

Itrion smiled a beautiful smile, "Exactly and because I immersed myself is savagery, gore, love of violence for violence's sake to exude my power…well, suffice to say you can't exactly shed that coat overnight. To go back to the way of the sword and you will find God's methods which secured you victory have left you and it's not that they are gone forever but like with anything, you have to choose what you want. And for me, even though I am His servant, I have free choice to do as I wish, but in the end, I have to choose to honor myself or Him, and in the grand scheme I'm still learning because trust me, it's hard to live to the standard He sets if not impossible. But doesn't mean you don't try. But like with me, if I forsake his gifts to me for my want, selfish as it is, well I made my choice. But in the end, you realize that way is just not profitable and shows itself to be the conduct of the selfish person.

So yes, after you leave, I'm going to go back to Him and take up the swords He gave me. Because I asked Him for His verdict on my weapons, this submission was to make me into what He wanted. And I fell away from that. I regret it and if it means learning the hard way, being cut and beaten and stabbed, thrown off cliffs, etc., so be it. I will relearn, and I won't leave again so long as it is in my power to do so. Don't be distracted Hope by the ways and flash and flattery of the world outside. Because it's enticing, I dare not deny it. I fell to it many times. But consider what it takes you away from more than what it gives you. Sit down and think about it. You have a chance, a second chance.

Listen to me as I tell you this, you now know the consequences from my hand alone of following your own path, the loss of your friends, the loss of what would have been your true freedom, a real agonizing gut-punch into your liberty that you threw away because you desired to take the law into your own hands. You are no longer ignorant. You know, right and wrong. You now have no business doing wrong if you not naive and know better. What comes of your life from now on, is decided by your hand alone. I have done what is in my power to do, and now it falls to you. Wake up."

Hope saw Itrion become blurry and then particles of dust the place where she was dissolved. Now she felt feverish, sick, nauseous. It was feeling of delirium as her world tossed and spiraled her body. Her mind and body feeling as if it were a doll knocked too and fro by an invisible force almost akin to the wind and then suddenly a rapid descent into greyish white light, and later her vision became blurry as she was able to focus on the soft glow of the lights above her.

She came to her senses gradually as the setting of the room she was in began to take place a woman in a green uniform came in and looked surprised as Hope's vision adjusted. The woman pushed a button on the wall, and soon a middle-aged man with dark brown skin and greying hair came in. He felt her ankles and then took her temperature and wrote down some results.

He looked at her and said, "Hello, child. I am Dr. Zahed Ninkasi. Your friends brought you here three days ago. They said you came to their apartment and you were angry, and then you became extremely feverish before collapsing. They brought you here and since you were admitted you had had several seizures in three days. You are seemingly okay for now as we have stabilized you. However, we need you to stay rested and stay calm. Your uncle was notified as soon as you came in, and he has been here very regularly. One of our staff is calling him now. He'll be here soon."

"What—" Hope was still shaken from her conversation with Itrion, and she said, "what exactly happened?"

Dr. Ninkasi replied, "Your friends said you were very sick, but it was sudden illness out of nowhere. Your fever at its peak was 104.4. We battled whatever was in you with what we could. You had all manner of ranting and ravings we attributed to this sickness but none of it any sense. But you are somewhat stabilized for now. What happened to you that you last remember?"

Hope was hesitant, and she said, "I knocked on my friend's apartment door, after that, nothing." She decided to leave out her anger against Paul as it might draw suspicion.

Dr. Ninkasi nodded, and he said, "We will check in on you periodically now you are more alert. If all goes as we foresee, you will be released after you complete some tests to verify that you can go back home. Once you have done that to satisfaction, you may leave. Is that understood?"

Hope nodded, and Ninkasi looked at Hex who had come to see his niece. Hex came in and sat down, and Ninkasi went on about his business.

Hex sat down, and he looked at her, "I didn't know what happened to you at all until I got the call from Eca's father. What happened Hope?"

Hope was in a state of confusion, a touch of fear, but more than that she remembered Itrion, the middle-aged man in purple-tinted sunglasses, "I…I don't know." She replied as she was trying to piece it together.

Hex looked at her, "You were violently ill you had seizures and fever and all manner of stuff happening, what happened leading up to it?"

Hope was still too afraid to answer directly, but she went over the events that led up to her being in the hospital. Her friends had taken her there, and they were alive. Was it all just a bad dream? Was it indeed just a nightmare from a fevered fantasy?"

Hope looked at Hex, "Uncle, do you remember the story of Itrion?"

He nodded, "One of the very finest swordsmen of our neighboring nations. Why?"

"Where is he? Did he leave as we did?"

Hex hesitated to answer but then came up with another avenue, "Why do you ask?"

Hope was afraid at first, but she had to tell someone. She looked at Hex, and she invoked with what remained of her strength a silent prism which only they could talk. Hope told him the entire story of finding out about Josie's death, how she knew the man responsible, and how she wanted to kill him. But before being able to act upon It, suddenly just blacked out. But it wasn't so much a blackout it was the fact she had acted on her impulses, and from it, that her friends were killed by Irithan and how he said that God had sent him to warn her and all that what seemed to be a dream entailed.

Hex's eyes looked surprised at all of this, and then his voice shook just a bit as he replied. "No, this can't be Hope. It just can't."

Hope looked at him, "Why not? It was as clear as anything, this man who I came to know from his testimony from how he looked his very essence just was so real. He beat the shit out of me!"

Hex replied, "It can't happen because he's been dead for eight years, Hope. One of the last resistors against Adwaita who was killed by him. He's died and has been in the grave for a while."

Hope couldn't believe it, but it made sense all that this dream if it was a dream, had said. But it was a dream evidently because her friends were still alive and brought her to the hospital. She couldn't wrap her head around it. She usually knew her dreams. Well enough to know that pain was not so much even a register, but this time, it was so real, the pain of the kicks, the force of them delivered by a booted foot felt so real.

She then said, "Wait…if I can describe him, can you tell me if it's accurate?"

Hex was apprehensive, but he thought she could because Hope had never seen Itrion before, and his likeness was never committed to paper as he loved that aspect of the mystique. "Go ahead."

Hope described the man who had identified himself as Itiron as she was still so very captivated by his beauty but also his firmness and sincerity.

When she had finished, Hope looked at Hex, who looked transfixed. For he knew she had seen the real being. The hero who fell and was remade, the hero who saved many fighting the tyrant but was burned to ash by all reports. Hope had described him so correctly that it was entirely moot for argument. But more than amazement, it was fear. For her testimony threw all of his perceived understanding of laws out the window. He snapped his fingers ending the incantation his niece has started.

He got up from his seat and said, "I have to get some things ready at home. I'll be back tomorrow until you are out of the hospital." He began to leave and said, "You did see him. I don't know how; I don't know why. I just…don't know."

He left, soon after Hope rested her head against the pillow as she closed her eyes. She breathed just a bit quicker than usual and then calmed as she asked herself, 'What does this mean?'

AN: I hope you enjoy this chapter. Please read and review.