The Morning After

[Clandestine Duplais]

Summer 9th 512AV Gallo was excited the morning after the meeting with Clyde. Although he appeared to be thick skulled, it took him a night’s rest to fully absorb what he was taught. Thick as he was, water was able to sink through stone eventually. Gallo awoke to the rising of the sun as the rays of light passed through the oiled parchment over his window. The orange glow cast an amber glow over the wood. An ember burned warmly in the hearth as it awaited for fresh fuel to be placed upon it. Much like the weak glow, Gallo remained in his bedroll. His eyes were open in thought, he didn’t get much sleep, as he continued to run through everything Clyde had said the day before. The focuses from earlier had been washed from his body, what the water didn’t remove was rubbed off by the rough sheets. The sheets slid harshly over his thickened skin as his torso slowly arose from the bed. He stretched out and yawned as he absently looked into the open room partitioned by simple screens. He soon slid completely out of his bed as he repeated to himself, “Glyphs can take any form. Focuses help to control the flow of magic.” His mind still moved faster than a well trained horse on a road as he stood naked a cloth in his hand. He began to wrap himself to at least make himself decent. He moved one of the rigid screens over and opened the box he slept in. He continued to move the screens around and opened up the main room some more. It exposed some of the support beams to that held the building upright as well as the rafters. Near the middle of the room a large sack was perched in the rafters. He nudged it down and allowed it to swing on the short rope hung from the rafter. It was primitive, but its brush filled fabric served its purpose for Gallo's exercise. He stood near the long sack before he began to stretch out his body. Some of his joints popped as he bent and stretched. The muscles rolled under the fair skin while he limbered up. “Hmm I wonder how much those focuses will aid me?” He spoke to himself as if he respected a reply from someone. When no reply came he felt his chest sink. But the knife of silence only fueled his motivation as he soon took an aggressive stance in front of the bag. He bounced on the balls of his feet for a moment before he planted himself firmly to the ground. Though not a proper training bag, the rigidity and weight served its purpose well. He soon went through a short series of punches and swings, which made the wood creak as the heavy bag swung. When he had completed the series of exercises he began to bounce on the balls of his feet again. He repeated the same movements for a second and a third time before he moved on to his legs. This time he rocked on his feet as he focused on where his balance was. Each foot made a swing at the bag until he came to one point in his exercise that always caused him to loose his balance. After the last kick he was supposed to use his body's full strength and momentum to channel his energy into the opposite kick to deliver a rapid second and powerful strike than the first. But as he attempted to do just that, his momentum was lost and caused him to throw himself off balance. His feet moved quick, as he faltered and attempt to regain his balance. He grunted a moment as he moved back into the initial stance and began the drill once more. But as he continued to practice, his focus began to wander. After he stumbled and caught himself on the bag he momentarily had the image of his father. Even though the man had pushed him so hard, Gallo still admired him. As he hugged the bag with his eyes closed he could almost feel and hear his dad as he caught him and began to coach him. Such memories plagued him ever since he had arrived back to Ravok.

[Clandestine Duplais]

Gallo wouldn't feel as bad as he did if it weren't for the plausibility that the his family was still alive. No body was found even after that horrible Spring Season. It would bring Gallo closure if he could just confirm the death of his family. He soon moved to a chair as he caught his breath from the strenuous workout. As he sat in his chair he grabbed a scrap piece of paper and began to draw and practice glyphing. He focused on the focus as he drew one, then another next to it. He lined them up in rows as he slowly drew them tediously. But as he continued to draw the oak tree that he so despised he found himself finding it harder and harder to really relate to it. He stopped and was in thought for a long while. His heart began to find a steady step as he remembered his journey to the Suvan. More importantly the initials he drew in blood on the Sylirian knight's foot. It was a vouch that still burned in his heart with much power. With renewed effort he began to practice the decorative scribing of his initials. The first was just as sloppy as the one written in blood. But as he continued to draw more in a row below the previous ones he soon found that it became easier and more finer. After a good while of drawing the focus he had chosen he began to draw them on himself. Two were drawn on the thighs, right above the knee caps of his legs. The other two were drawn on his arms, the ink smudged and dripped in places but didn't phase the young man as he stood from his seat and approached the bag once more. He took up a fighting stance and began to focus and meditate on the djed that flowed through his veins, through his nerves, through his body. He began slowly with the punching drills while he began to cite a family prayer. “My divine father, Rhysol.” Gallo punctuated the line with a punch from his right arm. He could vaguely feel an increase in the ease of his strike. Slowly, like water as it shifts in a bowl, the djed began to awaken and flow toward his punch. Though his timing was off as he felt it reach its apex after he had struck the bag. He slowed his movements even slower as he continued to chant. “Please shine your eyes on my family,” Gallo had slowed to a reverent pace as he focused on directing his djed to his opposite arm. The punches he through were more like a slow dance as he waited for the flow of djed to flow across his body and into the arm. “Give us the strength to overcome all of the difficulties,” he continued to run through the motions of his punching drill all the while focusing on the sensation his nerves gave off as his djed moved back and forth in a slow, but constant flow. “That we are dealing with now. Protect us, as we protect you, against all problems we may encounter in the future. Our divine father, please bring us together as we are meant to be. Let the love we share strengthen us to infinity as we fulfill the destiny you've given us.” Gallo soon moved to slow kicking as he completed the cycle of various punches and blocks. “May you grace my family forgiveness for our weaknesses we have shown. Extend your hand and lift our bodies out of the muck.” Gallo broke the even, balanced, rock of the flow of djed from one to another when he began to approach the kick he had difficulty doing. Instead he left the djed that had gathered in the opposite leg, like a spring ready to unleash. “Give us forgiveness and we'll give you absolute loyalty.” When Gallo finished the last line he had begun the kick and found that he had not lost his balance. The energy in his leg, though not a great deal, was enough to help the momentum of his body circle through and land with a maintained balance. Gallo was excited and almost forgot to complete the prayer. “In your great name I pray.”

[Clandestine Duplais]

The morning had come and quickly departed as Gallo made his way around the docks and then back toward the center of the city. It was a morning run, which had become ritualistic for the young man. He passed by his peers and for once took notice of the girls. Their bodies had changed since the last time he remembered them, or rather bothered to look at them. Their bodies had developed and caused a tingle in his stomach. He made an effort to avoid them unsure of the feelings he felt toward them. Shyness toward girls was the kink in his armor as he journeyed to his adulthood. It was one of the few things that Gallo truly feared, that he was not good enough for them. He made his way toward the temple and crossed the great bridge that spanned the length of a great canal. He could see the broken temple in his sights and a small collection of people outside of it. It was early yet and Gallo knew by the time he'd make it to the front it would be crowded with Ravokians. He was right too. A crowd had gathered and Gallo remained on the outer edge of the gathering in front of the temple. The building looked megalithic to Gallo, even though part of it had been damaged during the storm. A druvin had made their way to a pedestal and began to start the ritual of mass worship. Gallo listened intently and participated with the group until an eye wandered to its peripherals. The hood of someone's cloak as it lay dormant, adorned on someone's head pointed in his direction. The fabric appeared to be that of a common man, though a crude but distinct stitching had been sewn into the fabric. It was unique and stood out against the worn, maroon, fabric of the cloak. When Gallo turned his head the rogue seemed to swiftly turn their head back toward the Druvin as if it never happened. Gallo felt an odd feeling at the back of his head as he continued to worship with the rest of the group. The day continued as usual, Gallo went to the market and bought some fruits, fresh and dried, as well as some other standard groceries. As he walked through the streets of Ravok, he began to become aware of a possible stalker. When a group of oblivious Ravokians presented themselves to Gallo as they walked on their way, Gallo intentionally moved toward them. While they passed he turned his head to look behind him. It didn't look all to unusual behind him however he noticed the familiar cloak he had noticed earlier. The maroon color gave an indication as to who it might be. Curious Gallo extended his journey back to his home. As he wound his way through the tight streets of Ravok, groceries in hand, the person continued to follow. The rouge never approached Gallo but instead kept at a distance. This frustrated Gallo as he turned into a tight alleyway that led to the docks. Seldom used, the wood and stone structures created a vacant path. The narrowness was what Gallo wanted. It would force his stalker to face him. Of course they could just opt out and discontinue their hunt if they were smart. But as Gallo turned and faced the rouge, he found that whoever this person was did not have any intentions of opting out. “Why do you follow me?” Gallo confronted the cloaked figure. Gallo stood silently as he waited for a reply. The cloaked figure finally made a move as the thick fabric of her cloak parted and revealed a feminine body. Gallo for a moment was reminded of his sister's build. His heart fluttered as the thought of reuniting with his lost sister. But that lovely thought was soon dispelled as the glint of a round ring of metal was twirled around one of her fingers The strange weapon was not alone as many rings similar to the one she twirled on her finger. Gallo was met with the face of deadly beauty as his peer wore a thick grin. “Well isn't it obvious?” She finally replied to Gallo. “I wanted to get to know you better. But seeing as you now know my face, I guess I get to know what you would look like limbless.”