Yuri Kineroth
Warring Son
Banchii
He walked slowly through the forest. The sheathed sword held loosely in his hand as winds brushed the tree tops above. His green eyes, like glowing bog moss of Zelos IV, closed briefly as he breathed deeply of the alien scents of the desolate woodlands. This place was peace. The natives were a small race of avian creatures and strongly isolationist but they were not aggressive, at least not so far. He didn't worry about that now. He found as his bare feet trod the soft loamy soil that he wasn't really worried about anything. He had no concerns that begged for attention. He had no money. no family. no purpose to fulfill at the moment. It was perfect.
He stopped there in the middle of the forest and sat. He knelt on the loam and sat back and placed his sword at his side. He removed a small woven mat from the roll of his belongings on his back and unrolled it. with care he sat cross legged on the mat and began meditating. Eyes closed he pulled his sword across his lap with one hand and formed a long practiced hand sign with the other as he sought his center. He pulled the force from his surroundings and cycled it through his body slowly. He passed the flowing energy through his body forming patterns as he filled himself with power. Cycles of force coursed through him as the patterns imitated elements like fire, wind, water, wood, and earth. Slowly he went through his patterns before he finally made his way toward the void. There was no want in the void. No needs or desires. He slowly tried to emulate the void. Full of everything and empty of all at the same time.
His spiritual self shuddered as he closed in on perfection and faltered...again.
He opened his eyes and sighed. Hours had passed and the light had left the woods. He was blind without light. He would have to wait until morning. He closed his eyes again for a much more shallow meditation.
He walked slowly through the forest. The sheathed sword held loosely in his hand as winds brushed the tree tops above. His green eyes, like glowing bog moss of Zelos IV, closed briefly as he breathed deeply of the alien scents of the desolate woodlands. This place was peace. The natives were a small race of avian creatures and strongly isolationist but they were not aggressive, at least not so far. He didn't worry about that now. He found as his bare feet trod the soft loamy soil that he wasn't really worried about anything. He had no concerns that begged for attention. He had no money. no family. no purpose to fulfill at the moment. It was perfect.
He stopped there in the middle of the forest and sat. He knelt on the loam and sat back and placed his sword at his side. He removed a small woven mat from the roll of his belongings on his back and unrolled it. with care he sat cross legged on the mat and began meditating. Eyes closed he pulled his sword across his lap with one hand and formed a long practiced hand sign with the other as he sought his center. He pulled the force from his surroundings and cycled it through his body slowly. He passed the flowing energy through his body forming patterns as he filled himself with power. Cycles of force coursed through him as the patterns imitated elements like fire, wind, water, wood, and earth. Slowly he went through his patterns before he finally made his way toward the void. There was no want in the void. No needs or desires. He slowly tried to emulate the void. Full of everything and empty of all at the same time.
His spiritual self shuddered as he closed in on perfection and faltered...again.
He opened his eyes and sighed. Hours had passed and the light had left the woods. He was blind without light. He would have to wait until morning. He closed his eyes again for a much more shallow meditation.