Book 3: Chapter 5: Rude Awakening

Book 3: Chapter 5: Rude Awakening

“To define enlightenment is to shackle the fledgling meditator with an unfair burden. What it means to be enlightened is subjective, and it falls upon each child to traverse this path alone, lest their road be ravaged by false information.”

Excerpt from Prologue, House Kraken Manual

In the predawn hours, George, the lord of Tropica, let out a slow sigh.

He’d had a terrible sleep, riddled with interruptions that he couldn’t explain. The first had pulled at his core just after midnight. Unable to calm his racing heart, he’d remained awake for who knew how long, and just when slumber welcomed him into its open arms once more, the second event occurred. Unlike the first, this one seemed to constrict his entire body. It only lasted for half a breath, but that was plenty of time for anxiety to shoot up his spine and ruin any chance of more sleep.

Which was why he decided to meditate instead.

As he traversed his way toward his study, George had wondered if he was close to reaching the ‘enlightenment’ his family spoke of. The term was loosely defined, the texts insisting that if explained, it would be harder for one to reach it. What else could these strange occurrences be? After all, they had only begun after he and his wife, Geraldine, started reading House Kraken’s manual. The better they got at the meditations listed within, the more frequent and powerful the unexplainable events became.

Realizing he was lost in thought, George shook his head, smiling at himself.

I claim to be getting better at the meditations, yet here I am, lost in past worries and future possibilities.

George sat cross-legged in his study, and he let out his breath, focusing once more on the sensations of his body in space, just as his family’s tome instructed.

The hardwood of his study’s floor beneath him. His breaths, cooling each nostril when he inhaled and warming them when he exhaled hot air. The spot where his hands rested on his knees, and the tingling that ran up and down his fingers. Together, they rooted him in the present, an unignorable tether to the here and now.

But then the knock came, three sharp raps of a knuckle on his front door that made adrenaline shoot through George’s body.

He took a deep breath, holding it and willing his heart to remain calm. Just when he thought he’d lose the battle, a hand rested softly on his leg. George cracked his eyes and peered over at his beloved wife.

Geraldine gave him a kind smile, rubbing his knee softly with one hand. “Want me to get it, dear?”

“No,” he replied, getting to his feet and stretching. “I can handle him.”

He bent and kissed the top of her head before striding out the door and heading for the stairs. As he walked down them, he didn’t rely on the ornate banisters to either side. House Kraken’s manual was strict with one’s diet, and George had been following it militantly. Though it had been hard to give up his sugary treats at first, that temporary discomfort was nothing beneath the weight of George’s former stressors. His prodigious size had melted away like candle wax, leaving behind a body that could move much more freely.

As George reached the landing, he paused for a moment in front of the door. Taking one last calming breath, he opened it.

Fischer was standing there, his hand upraised and ready to knock again. “Oh. G’day, George. How are ya, mate?”Vissit novelbin(.)c.om for updates

The village girl Fischer was often with stood beside him.

“You remember Maria, don’t you?” Fischer asked.

“Of course. Hello.”

“Hi!” She gave him a brilliant smile. “Good to see you!”

“And this is my doggy pal, Borks,” Fischer continued. “I’m not sure you’ve been introduced.”

The golden-colored dog wagged his tail as he stared up at George.

Was he expected to greet the dog, too? He decided it was safest to do so.

“Hello, Borks.”

The dog let out a soft bark, his tail swishing faster.

George pursed his lips, looking back up toward Fischer. The faintest whispers of the day to come shone over the eastern rooftops, the sky there turning a light purple as the sun announced its arrival.

“What can I do for you at this early hour?”

“Sorry about that, mate. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“Not at all.”

“Good. I came with a request, actually.”

“Oh?” George swallowed, hoping he hid the spike of fear that drove into him. “I can do my best to fulfill it. What did you need?”

“I want to see your wedding ring, mate.”

I relayed it to Maria, and it was her turn to pause. “You’re serious?”

“I am, but that’s not all. I felt chi from George.”

“You did?” she asked entirely too loudly, then winced, adopting a quieter tone. “He’s a cultivator? Why did we leave, then?”

“Not a cultivator, no. It was weird. He hasn’t awakened yet, but there was definitely something there...”

“That’s... troubling.”

I shrugged. “We’ll have to keep an eye on it, but I’m not worried about him. George is a good bloke.”

Maria chewed her cheek. “I’m not too sure about that, but he has been doing good by the villagers lately...”

We slipped into silence as we followed the street, only our footfalls and the tapping of Borks’s nails interrupting the quiet. As we entered the intersection, I looked up, gazing three doors down to the home of Lord Osnan Jr.

“Holy frack...”

“Yeah,” Maria agreed. “George wasn’t kidding when he said we’d know it when we saw it.”

***

Lord Tom Osnan Jr., heir to house Osnan, woke abruptly.

“What...?” he asked, sitting upright and looking around.

The sky past his silken curtains was still dark, only hints of the sun’s rays cresting the horizon.

His wife, Joanne, groaned from beside him, rolling over and covering her head with a lush pillow. “Someone at the door,” came her muffled voice.

Surely that wasn’t the case. What sort of fool would—

Thump. Thump. Thump.

For a moment, Tom was confused, but then fury roiled within him. He’d already had a fitful sleep after being woken twice by waves of chi, and now he had to deal with some idiot—probably a peasant—knocking on his door in the predawn hours.

He shrugged a robe on, adopted his best scowl, and stomped downstairs. Throwing the door open, he cast his displeasure out onto the street. Three smiles met him.

“G’day, mate. Nice to see you again.”

It was the upstart that had accosted him the other week. Tom had tried to slap him, but that fool George Kraken caught his hand.

I should have used my full strength... Tom thought. Then I wouldn’t be dealing with this moron right now.

“Everything okay, mate?” the peasant asked. “You having a medical episode of some sort?”

Tom’s lip twitched, and he didn’t bother hiding his displeasure. “Knock on my door again and you’ll regret it.”

He made to close the door, but the man put his foot forward, blocking it. “I’m afraid I must insist, mate. It’s important.”

“Very important,” the woman added, giving him a grin through the crack.

“Why don’t you invite them in, Tom?” Joanne asked, striding down the stairs.

He spun on her, confused by her appearance and the suggestion, but then he caught the righteous anger lining her face.

“Maybe you’re right, dear,” he replied. “Where are my manners?” He swung the door open again. “Would you like to come in and discuss it? We’d be more than happy to hear you out.”

“Thanks!” the man replied, leading them in.

As the three sorry souls entered their home, Tom and Joanne Osnan shared a smirk.