War and Fortune 2.244
Viggo entered the last painted painting prepared by Hera entitled The Contemplation. Ahead of him stretched long pastures that reached his knee. One hundred meters further the trees, pines and eucalyptus trees began three to five meters high. Viggo circled on its axis looking at the surroundings and saw that it was in the center of a valley, with large snow-capped mountains in the distance. The place was so quiet that you could hear the flow of a river and the roar of deer in the distance. A nightjar emitted a constant, resounding whistle that vibrated in space and reached Viggo's ears. The latter smiled and looked to his right where a hundred meters beyond the forest began. Then he was joined by other softer whistles, but which indicated that in this painted painting there was life. Not like in the meditation that he was absolutely alone, and his only company was a peach tree. Or in the painted picture of the nightmare, where all there was a desert land from which monsters emerged non-stop.
—This would have been more appropriate for meditation— Viggo said with a smile on his lips.
<<You live in many places at once— old Xiao, whom Viggo called Grandpa, had told him —your mind is scattered between what was, what can be, and what you must do. For everything there is its moment>>
Viggo looked down seeing the long green grasslands that reached his knee and as between its filaments, a dark, humid land full of vitality could be seen—living in many places at once—murmuring in a low voice.
<<I don't think you lack combat skills— Kratos once told him —you're strong, you already had a good foundation when you arrived, you just lacked discipline. Now you just need to gain life experience and immerse yourself in the battlefield. Fighting, is the only way to become strong. And if there was one thing, I should teach you to complete your training, it would be to tell you to start thinking on your own. It's a good question—>>
Viggo raised his face to the sky, wide, celestial, and clear. With a beautiful, bright sun rising from east to west above the snowy mountains —to be present, hahahaha, who would have thought that that bald old man in a bad mood would tell me something so right without even knowing the old man's beliefs? What should I be doing right now?—
Viggo took a deep breath, sat on the floor in a lotus position and meditated with his eyes closed. He breathed, concentrated on the movement of his body being perfect, just that, nothing more. No matter the grass, no matter the animals, the blue sky, the sound of the river in the distance, or the song of the birds. He was that moment, he was meditation, he was that calm and happy feeling in his chest, where the fears of the past and the worries of the future did not enter. He was meditating at the time and that was it.
Viggo let out a sigh, he felt hungry, but when he opened his eyes, the sky was dark and starry, with a beautiful moon radiating pale light. Crickets sang in the grasslands and owls howled from the trees. The wind swayed the grass and generated a constant friction.
Viggo dropped on his back on the grass, the earth was soft and wet, but with a pleasant aroma. Viggo looked at the dark sky and the most beautiful river of stars he had ever seen. Had he ever devoted himself to stargazing? Had he ever stopped to think about whether what he was doing was the right thing to do? Why does it move one way and not another? To contemplate, it was important to contemplate, thought Viggo. Now that he was looking at things from a calm perspective and away from the fear of the past and the anguish of the future, he could see more clearly what him was around.
Viggo completely forgot to eat, he stared at the sky, it was beautiful and extensive. One night would not be enough to contemplate it in its entirety. Too immense and sublime. However, he remembered again that he was hungry when he saw the first rays of the sun peeking out from the east.
Viggo stood up from the ground without worrying that his entire back was covered by stains of damp earth. He took a deep breath, looked at the extensive grasslands around him, the forest around him, heard the sound of the river at his back. Ahead the thunderous flutter of a thrush, beyond the vibrant sound of a nightjar. Viggo stretched out his right hand forward and put his palm up. Then, from the ring on his index finger he extracted a bottle of wine and some pieces of meat, bread, and other accompaniment. One by one he deposited them on the grass and generated a carpet of green strands on the ground. Viggo sat down and ate happier than ever in his life. The wine was sweeter and more intoxicating than ever while the meat salted and tasty. The bread had an unparalleled softness, and the other foods had their own charm. Viggo ate slowly and slowly, enjoying every bite.
After eating, Viggo got up from the grass, put away what was left and looked around. There was nothing but grasslands as animals and birds hid in the forest more than a hundred meters away. Viggo spin on its axis, the grass high and swaying in the morning breeze. The clear sky and the powerful and bright sun.
Viggo took a deep breath and got into position to box. However, instead of moving at full speed as he did when fighting his enemies or training with his master. He threw a slow punch, the slowest he had ever thrown in his entire life, he took care of the form, the movement of the arm, the way his fingers and knuckles were put. He contemplates his movement in all its extension and felt each of his muscles that accompanied him in the gesture. Whether it is his feet moving forward and giving balance to his posture. His torso functioning as the balance point between his torso and his legs, projecting the weight and transporting it to his arm and then to his fist. His back tightened and his muscles coordinated so that the fist could reach its maximum power.
Viggo concentrated on boxing for hours, soft, leisurely, contemplating his movements, whether it was his hands, torso, and feet. He couldn't see his back, but he could feel the movement of his muscles. Once again, he advanced and threw another punch, but this time he projects with his imagination the image of his master. Big, bald, with the red tattoo on his left eye, thick beard, and expression of few friends. Great musculature, prominent stature, he looked cold and focused on beating his opponent.
Viggo fought Kratos, but it was a slow and contemplative battle, where Viggo remembered his master's movements and tried to imitate them, but it was difficult, very difficult. Because of the way and the feeling Kratos projected, he didn't think about throwing a punch, or kicking, or how to respond. He flowed with the movement and the situation, his body knew how to move, the discipline had etched at its core the correct movement and response. Viggo felt his muscles sore, as they weren't used to moving that way, but little by little he was doing it. In a combat, slow and contemplative, where Kratos found Viggo unprepared at every moment.
Viggo fell on his back to the ground stumbling and panting with difficulty. Noticing that the sunlight had turned orange and was about to hide in the west. The breeze was nice, the earth moist and the smell of nature brought happiness.
Viggo was close to learning his master's movements, but he didn't think about it. He just sat down and ate; he was that time. The mistakes he made in trying to imitate his master didn't matter and what he lacked to be as good as he didn't worry him. He was that moment and what happened in a minute later or two minutes or whatever minutes came, it didn't matter. It only mattered what I was doing now, only that and nothing else.
Thirty days passed and Viggo had transformed his excellent physical condition into something more like what his master could achieve. Of course, Viggo was only 1.8 meters tall, a head lower than Kratos, not to mention that his physical development was not yet complete. However, about attitudes, form, and responsiveness, he had caught up. At least, that's how it felt in his mind, but it still wasn't enough. Viggo hoped to find his true self, to show his full potential by reaching the strength of another and transform what he had into something of his own. He still had sixty days to get out of this painted picture. He would contemplate his own life, his own strength, the strength he had acquired from Kratos, the strength he had acquired from his own father, and from that would emerge something of his own, strong and determined. Something that would not make him inferior to the god that the gods of Orario fear.
However, falling into these thoughts, Viggo dwindled and let out a sigh. Again, he was drowning in the future and in the expectations of what he longed to be. It was important to have a plan, a goal, and a mission. However, it was not right to remain forever contemplating the past with all its fears or the future with all its anxieties. He was this moment, the present and in this moment, he would be the best thing he could do of himself. He would take everything he had learned, mix it up, and raise it to its maximum power. However, for that, he had to concentrate on this moment. This moment was the most valuable, no matter what happened in the next few seconds, he was this moment.
Once again, Viggo let out a sigh, sat on the damp ground while being surrounded by the grass with a height of sixty centimeters, and closed his eyes. This time he meditates thinking and imagining in his mind his own movements and what his reactions would be. Then he realized something; he had never fought Kain to his fullest ability. As children his father taught him jeet kune do, but that was it. As an adult, Kain played with them and Viggo remembered all their precise moves, but he didn't know the feeling of facing a monster like his father.
Viggo opened his eyes, collapsed on his back on the ground, and looked at the starry night sky. The wonderful moon emitted too cold a white light. Viggo may have been worried, felt bad, or wondered if he could do it. If only he really could be stronger than his father. To be filled with the fears of the past as when he was a child and believed that yes or yes, he should be the strongest, like his father. However, now Viggo was calm, the fears of the past did not worry him or the anxieties of the future. He just closed his eyes and fell asleep with a smile on his lips thinking that tomorrow he had his own worries. At that time, he will face them and become better every moment.