Episode 55: Prisoner Of Destiny

Griswa leaned in slightly, "The speech you gave in the beginning, it rushed through me like it was pressuring inside me from tip to toe as I oddly felt familiar to what you were saying. Why did I feel relatable? Like I have gone through it? Was my mind playing with me or was it you playing with our minds?" 

"Those questions, Lord… sorry Griswa Skaar, I don't know anything about you feeling relatable to me, but I wasn't playing with your minds. I said those things like always, I say them everywhere I go, every refugee planet I have to bring doom to. Because I am not someone's enemy by choice. I didn't go back to Thylme again and again. If a mission fails, we are fired, killed, titled by uselessness of an inferior race. So, we can only return after a mission's complete. I have parked my main vessel on one of the satellites of Ehayor. Every time I failed in dooming Ehayor, I went to other planets in this universe itself to gather beings for army, if that's what you refer to as Brighter Dark forces, I used my seals and caught beasts from worlds." Orngea replied, his words and tone were sincere.

"I see. 'I, too, am a prisoner of this destiny, bound by a duty I did not choose.'" Griswa repeated the words from Orngea's speech which rang bells in Orngea's mind. "This was the part where I felt relatable, although I don't remember when have I gone through that." Griswa continued, his expressions were of suspicion on himself.

Fheniz stared into the desert sand, his eyes narrowing as he tried to connect the swirling fragments of knowledge in his mind. "Griswa, repeat that line again. The one you said earlier… I, too, am a…?"

Griswa didn't hesitate. His voice was firm, but something about it carried a subtle weight, as if the words came from somewhere deeper. "I, too, am a prisoner of this destiny, bound by a duty I did not choose."

Fheniz fell silent for a moment, his brow furrowing as his mind began racing. He repeated Griswa's words in a soft murmur, his voice barely audible, "A prisoner of destiny… bound by duty..."

His facial expression shifted, slowly morphing from one of deep thought to one of sudden realization. His eyes sharpened, fixing on Griswa with an intensity that almost seemed to pierce through him. "Griswa, I need to study more about your subconscious. There are things you remember and things you don't—sometimes you get flashes of memory when you're reminded of something from your past. Maybe it's all connected. Maybe what you just said wasn't just random. Maybe, deep down, you've gone through that in your own way."

"The thing is the subconscious doesn't process time the way the conscious mind does. It stores memories in a fragmented, non-linear way, based on emotional significance rather than chronological order. When something triggers a particular memory, it can feel like a sudden flash, and it might seem random, but it's often tied to an underlying emotional or sensory connection. The subconscious is closely linked to emotion. Emotional experiences are stored deeply, and when something in the present resonates with those emotional states, the subconscious can "surface" a related memory or feeling. It's not random, but tied to an emotional link that your conscious mind may not immediately recognize."

"Sometimes, the subconscious behaves in unexpected ways when dealing with repressed memories or emotions. Things you've buried deep down might surface in strange, fragmented forms—almost as if your mind is testing whether you're ready to face them."

"In short, the subconscious is not bound by the same logical rules as the conscious mind. It is deeply emotional, symbolic, and associative. So yes, a subconscious can behave like that, sending out flashes of meaning that seem random but are often connected to deeper, hidden experiences or emotions. But... the most concerning part is, why does it act like a total separate entity that's not you at all, is the real you, you? Or that subconscious? That's suspicious."

Griswa's gaze didn't waver, but his expression turned more serious. "Well, it is concerning. It has always been. My memories are fragmented, scattered. I can't piece them together because the questions I have remain unanswered, and only the other entity inside me can explain them. But I can assure you, the real me is me who stands here, conscious and aware of what he is speaking."

Fheniz leaned back slightly, his eyes now brimming with curiosity and intrigue. "Hmm. When we begin learning Gate and Portal Commanding, I'll make it my priority to study you as well. Not just your techniques, but your behavior, your thoughts, the way you connect with these strange forces. For example, you explained the concept of 'light years' and 'jumps' to Malaes and Yesdar, but you don't even remember when or where you learned that. It's as if certain memories come to you only when you're triggered by something from your past—whether intentionally or unintentionally."

Griswa's face darkened slightly as he nodded. "I know that much, Fheniz. Whatever you're saying right now, it's possible my subconscious is hearing it, even while dormant. Let me tell you everything I know about it."

"Sure," Fheniz replied, his voice measured but tinged with interest. "Go on."

Griswa took a breath, gathering his thoughts before he spoke and let out everything he knew and everything he learnt during the fight between him and Master Ehayor.

Fheniz nodded, absorbing Griswa's words as if piecing together a puzzle in his own mind. His eyes sharpened as a quiet understanding settled over him. "I see," he said, his voice calm but firm. "5 to 6 more years."

Griswa raised an eyebrow, confused. "What?"

Fheniz turned to face him fully, his tone direct. "The training—to master Gate and Portal Commanding, to uncover more about your subconscious, to refine all the commanding techniques we've been learning and develop new ones. All of that is going to take 5 to 6 more years."

Griswa's expression shifted, a slight frown forming on his face. "5 to 6 more years? That's a long time…"

"Not really," Fheniz replied, his tone unwavering. "Think about it, Griswa. It's taken me 40 years to become who I am today, and even now, I am still not complete. Master Ehayor has trained for millions of years, Orngea has traveled over two quadrillion light years to get here, and the Yahunyens have ruled Aeartha for 185,000 years. In the grand scheme of things, 5 or 6 years is nothing. It's a blink. Let the Yahunyens have peace for some more years till you all are perfect."

Griswa let out a small sigh, shaking his head. "It may not be a problem for me, but what about Malaes and Yesdar? Will they be ready to wait that long?"

Fheniz's lips curled into a faint smirk. "They aren't waiting for anything, Griswa. Their training will take 5 to 6 years too. They'll need to hone their skills, they are still quite far away, you'll be indulged in training and study of your subconscious both. When I say it'll take that long, I'm talking about everything—the training, the unlocking of your memories, the mastering of the commanding techniques. You're not just preparing for a battle. You're preparing for everything."

Griswa's expression lightened as the realization sank in. "Oh, right… Yeah, I get it now."

But Fheniz wasn't finished. As he spoke, his mind continued to spiral deeper into thought.

Subconscious... memories... prisoner of destiny… unchosen duty... Judgement?

The words echoed in his mind, bouncing off each other like pieces of a greater puzzle, their meanings still just beyond his grasp.

He stood there, lost in thought, as the pieces began falling into place. The weight of Griswa's situation, the fragments of memory, the entity inside him—it all seemed to connect to something much larger. Something dark. Something dangerous.

"Judgement…" Fheniz whispered to himself, his eyes now far away, staring into a future that only he could see.

Griswa stared into the distance, his eyes gleaming with a fierce determination as he spoke. "Well, there you go, Orngea. It's going to take me years to kick Thylme's ass in slow motion. But even if this training goes on for a while, I've made up my mind. I'll free Aeartha within two years. So, in total, that gives us seven years. But just to be safe, I'll take a gamble on eight." He paused, letting the weight of his words settle in the space between them. His gaze locked on Orngea, unflinching, unbreakable. "I assure you, I'll end it all."

Orngea floated a bit closer, the shadowy tendrils of his cloak drifting softly around him. He seemed to hesitate for a moment before speaking, his voice carrying an unusual sincerity. "You have my gratitude. I never thought you'd agree to this." There was a pause, and then, in a lower tone, he added, "But... as you have agreed, I need to warn you about something."

Griswa's brow furrowed, his curiosity piqued. "About what?"

Orngea's voice was a whisper, but it carried a sense of impending doom, as if the very universe itself was conspiring against them. "You don't know what you're stepping into, Griswa Skaar. Thylme… Brighter Dark… They aren't just players in a cosmic game. They're the ones writing the rules."

Griswa's lips curled into a smirk, but there was no humor in his expression. Instead, there was a gleam of cold defiance, a glow of sheer determination that flickered in his eyes. "You think I care about their rules? I make my own."

Orngea remained silent for a moment, the soft rustle of his cloak the only sound in the stillness of the desert, the vast expanse stretching endlessly around them. He floated slightly closer, his presence almost challenging Griswa's defiance. "There's more at play here than just you. We're all caught in the same web, whether we know it or not. Do you even consider these risks, these facts, and still wish to help me?"

Griswa didn't waver, not for a second. His voice, calm and resolute, sliced through the tension like a blade. "Sure, I do."

Orngea stared at him for a long moment, as if searching for something beneath the surface of Griswa's calm demeanor. Then, with a sigh, he replied, "Do you want something more?"

Griswa's gaze remained fixed on Orngea, sharp as ever. "No. Do you?"

Orngea's hood shifted slightly, as though he were contemplating the question. When he finally spoke, his voice was laden with centuries of exhaustion and buried hopes. "I just want to see freedom come to us all. I want to watch. I want to see who wins when gods go to war."

For a moment, the words hung in the air like a challenge. Griswa's gaze remained locked on Orngea, his jaw tightening as the weight of the situation pressed down on him. "Then keep watching. But you'll get more than just a show."

Griswa stepped forward, and with a flick of his wrist, a crackling surge of power rippled through the air. The very ground beneath their feet trembled slightly, as if the world of Ehayor itself was beginning to react to Griswa's growing strength. "When this is all over, it won't just be about who's left standing. It'll be about who gets to decide the fate of the omniverse. And I can't lose."

Orngea, still hovering, said nothing for a moment. But then, a soft, dry chuckle escaped the shadows of his hood. "That's what I came to see. But know this: when you win, the omniverse shall hunt you down. The other Great Gods won't tolerate it. And neither will Brighter Dark."

Griswa laughed, a sharp, confident sound that seemed to cut through the tension. "If I cared about Brighter Dark, I wouldn't have chosen the hard way against the Yahunyens. They don't stand a chance against me, and you know that. It's not just about freedom. It's about something more than freedom. Something that goes beyond liberation. It's about delivering a message to the gods themselves."

Orngea didn't respond, but the silence between them spoke volumes. It was a silence filled with understanding, with a shared knowledge of the cosmic forces at play, and the titanic clash that was bound to unfold.

Griswa turned, his focus shifting as he called out. "Ain't I right, Fheniz?" There was no response. "Fheniz? Oi! Fheniz!" Griswa called again, but Fheniz remained lost in thought, murmuring something inaudible under his breath.

"Oi! Fheniz!" Griswa shouted once more, his voice snapping through the air like a whip.

This time, Fheniz responded instinctively, jolting from his thoughts. "Yeah, what?"

Griswa narrowed his eyes. "What were you thinking about?"

Fheniz shook his head as if trying to shake off the weight of whatever had been occupying his mind. "I was thinking… why don't you use your true godly powers in the battle with the Yahunyens?"

Griswa frowned, taken aback. "What? Did you even listen to what I just said?"

Fheniz didn't back down, his expression now focused and intense. "Let me explain. You said you weren't going to use your powers 'a lot', right? But you're planning to command dragons—that's God's Commanding, Griswa. Don't you realize? You'll already be a god among mortals. What I'm saying is, you're not avoiding your powers. You're fearing them. You hate that subconscious entity inside you—the one that brings nothing but destruction. So, why not use those powers for something better? If you fully harness your body and powers, if you achieve total control, maybe the subconscious won't need to come out. Ever."

Griswa's expression darkened as Fheniz's words sank in. He spoke in a low, firm tone. "No, Fheniz. I don't fear my powers. And it doesn't depend on how much I use them anymore."

Fheniz's eyes gleamed as he latched onto that last word. "Anymore! Exactly! Now it will depend on it. Step by step, Griswa. Make your powers ONLY yours. Make your body ONLY yours. Make your mind ONLY yours. Defeat that entity and make it sleep forever. Because there's one question that keeps echoing in my mind: what if that entity isn't part of you? At all? What if it came from outside, something that was implanted in you, and it's supposed to use you and your mind for its own ends? Why does it call your father Hezick Skaar a 'bastard'? Would you ever call him that?"

Griswa seemed to understand the gravity of what Fheniz was suggesting. His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, there was only silence. Then, slowly, he nodded. "You make a good point. But the truth is, we don't know enough to call anything a definite theory or fact. Still, I'll consider everything you've said. We'll have plenty of time for you to study me during the next five or six years. And then after that, I'll do what needs to be done in Aeartha, whatever the situation demands, if the situation demands usage of high level powers, then I won't hesitate. After all I gotta protect my friends."

He paused, his voice growing more somber. "He said that he's coming back in eight years. I'll be twenty by then. I want to free Aeartha before I'm nineteen. I've got seven years."

Fheniz nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, right..... Oh! Got an idea! Make Yesdar or Malaes the face of the revolution. You, work from the shadows. The rest is common sense. It's a win-win. You'll free the world as fast as possible, and no one will know who the true hero is. Short, sweet, simple and satisfying."

Griswa's face lit up with a grin, his eyes glinting with the spark of a new plan. "Great idea!"

"We'll discuss this with Malaes and Yesdar," Fheniz said, his tone decisive. "We'll make a thorough plan. Before you three go to Aeartha, there can be many plans made in these training years, in the end all you need is victory, and it comes to people with smartness and power, not the one who only rely on luck, rest is common sense."

"Trust me Fheniz, things are going to be fine, even if they don't, I won't back down before that world is free, there's no bad luck, I'll make my own luck, and I'll force it, whatever it takes, whatever it takes. Whatever plans we make, we'll revise them and choose the most appropriate ways to go every step ahead." Said Griswa, acknowledging Fheniz's words and reminding him that he doesn't need to worry.

_After all, we all know what Griswa Skaar is_

"I trust you, but I don't trust that world. Things are not going to go the way you want them to go, not always. It's not the Yahunyens all the threat by themselves. It's their connection to Brighter Dark, if things go messy, that world will have to pay what it doesn't owe." Said Fheniz, in a serious tone, the last words in a whisper.

And rest?

To Be Continued.