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01/13/2023 09:12 PM  Part II II - Echos of a farmer - II * * * * * * *   The attempt to find inner peace through self-reflection, training, and meditation is universal. A myriad of religions, cultures, and species across countless planets perform variants of these same principles to achieve some sort of enlightenment or peace. One particular species has grasped at this particular way of life and never let it go, even in the face of so much death and devastation. The peaceful people of Namek. These green humanoids choose to go about their days farming, meditating, reading, and living peace-filled lives. They focus on self-reflection, meditation, and propagation of their kind after a great calamity befell the world centuries prior. They've suffered immensely, but this didn't stop them from trying to live worthy lives. The seven small Nameks sat in a semi-circle around the much larger Namek adult, the visitor from the night before; Lord Sax, or so the children call him. All the Nameks mimicked the others, sitting with legs crossed sitting on the ground, their backs erect, and hands clasped together in their own unique ways. Some form individual hand-seals or their fingers were interwoven. All eyes closed and all were in silence as they performed their meditations. The big one, however, levitated above the young ones. Below them all the very ground they sat levitated too. The elder Namek was subconsciously lifting tons of stone several feet into the air, just above the crater of the platform's creation. His knuckles connected as his form remained as still as a mountain aside from his chest, as deep breaths filled his lungs, though he was silent to the average listener. He always relived his past during meditations, a past filled with sin, for a rather kind individual. Memories crept from the deep crevices of his mind like an animal clawing its way out of a hole, clambering for the light. Purple liquid splattering and painting the landscapes of azure grasslands, and mounds of carcasses creating a grotesque portrait of what he believed at the time was love. A love that's so twisted for his people that he deluded himself into believing a cleansing of those who were considered 'weak' would offer the Namek a stronger populace. A populace strong enough and prepared for things worse than this, a people though regularly peaceful, at the drop of a stone would have a war readiness that could make any galactic-spanning empire green with envy. Even with Sax's darker aspects severed from him, formed into a completely separate consciousness and sealed away gave him a false belief that this will help make him good - was all a fruitless naive lie. The fusion of the two halves once known as Rimashidae - the mad winnower of old Namek, was a Super Namek born with a darker nature compared to his kind and gentle dragon-caste farmer father who showed him only love, understanding and compassion. Sax met those paternal qualities with a hole placed in his father's head and countless Namekians with low battle powers lost to his zealous desire to better his brethren. His breathing elevated slightly at the end of the memory, reliving his past always made his shoulders and neck, the region where the purple tattoo wrapped, burn and ache. Though, even in such a deep meditation, he could hear the sounds of the rushing clear fresh waters, the soft whistle of the crisp breeze that gave all of the Namekians' clothing a nice bit of motion. The Nameks' eyes opened and drank in the present. The seven small members of his species imitate the best parts of their mentor and progressing well in their foundational instruction. A bit of pride filled him that, an oily black ooze of a voice rippled through his mind, his eyes hallucinating a near mirror image of himself standing just behind the seven younglings. Though the doppelganger appeared spindly, and emaciated, with long claws and antennae. The two halves peered deeply at each other, an endless pool of disdain and shame from the antagonistic mirror. Sax's gaze drank in the visage of his other half, the image of what he looked like in his youth. He felt the sensation to vomit, but it quickly vanished. "This is how you choose to live your days? Training weaklings and children instead of wiping the slate clean and restarting anew? This is our chance to make something out of our species you naive fool." The inky darkness silhouette scoffed and spat vehemently before continuing; "Your insolence is insufferable, Rimashidae."  "Your nothing more than a sad aspect of me that I allow to live. To show the old me that I can follow fathers loving teachings." Sax retorted, then spat in response soon after; "Its Sax. Stop calling me that name." The oily mirror scoffed at the correction, a wide grin forming on the visage soon after followed by a low chorttle; "Our goal remains the same, though your methods are... slower." The mirror retorted. "My methods propogate life. Yours destroys." He riposte. "You must destroy before you can create." The mirror countered. A silence fell over Sax, this wasn't some revealation, it was a commonality of the universe, but he didn't have to force this on this newer generation of Namekians. He desired better than what the old him would have done. A grimace formed on his face, his eyebrows narrowing in agitation. He continued; "It's over. Those sin stain my soul, I strive to be better. You exist because I allow it. Once I learn of a way to severe this life-link... I'll be free of you." 0 Comments

01/13/2023 09:10 PM  Part I Winnower to Gardener Echos of a farmer * * * * * * *   The quest for a harmonious state has plagued the gentle people of Namek for quite some time. That green planetary body has experienced so much death and destruction on the path of a restful and placid existence. A darkness seems to loom around this particular world, due in large part to the wish-granting orbs known colloquially as Dragon Balls. These seven nearly boulder-sized orange orbs have brought great pain and prosperity to the denizens of both old Namek and new Namek. In Namekian society, they are not just wish-granting spheres of power, but keys that bring them closer to their origins. This is why the Namekians treat them with such monastic fervor, they are the closest things to their original realm than their very bodies. In that same quest for a peace-filled and full existence, the Nameks take to farming. An agrarian society that wants nothing of the physical, of flesh, or taste, but the spiritual enlightenment and progression and propagation of their kind in the most meaningful of ways, This world was teeming with Namekian life long before the arrival of Freiza and his ilk, K.R.O.N.O.S and the eldritch machines it brought, Moro and likely many more to come. The original aggressors were their own, a group of Namekians who lost their way when their mental ascent caused a shift in their personalities. The likes of Slug and others like him ravaged the world they called home. The Super Nameks wanted more than this serene life. They wanted war, death, and destruction. They wanted control. These Super Nameks numbered in the tens, but only a few dozen were required to force Namek to its knees. Among them, one of the vilest; is a large Namek named Hachu'u, dubbed the mad winnower for his whirlwind-like slaughter of his brethren, even his father. This is a history that shouldn’t be forgotten. History needs never be repeated again. ‘Oho, so sure it won’t?’ The tome of ancient knowledge, memories, and experience one as old as he holds for a brain can occasionally be disturbed. Normally from within. A voice clad in oily shadow, yet familiar brought the massive Namek back from momentarily running on automatic. Two sizeable hands lifted to his gaze, emerald-hued four-digit hands caked in the earthy texture of muddy, soil and mulch positioned lazily in view. In the blink of an eye, the soil turned to viscera in his hands. He lowered his hands to see not green skies and lush azure fields of ajisa but mangled and emaciated remnants of what could have been his brethren. Echos of the mad winnower in plan view; “You won’t remain in control much longer. Your options are waning. We will be one again, or I'll destroy you. It matters not to me.” Blink. Namek returned to view. Not the desolate, corpse-covered memory, but the physical, real Namek. The Namek shifted his torso to the left, hands outstretching to cup a sapling to be planted. His massive frame shifted up so as to sit on his feet in his kneeling position. A face staring blankly, these occurrences had been happening much more frequently as of late. This concerned him, the voice was right, and he had minimal options, but he will make the right choice. He knew it. He had to. His hands dug the base of the sapling into the soil, pulling them out and brushing the soil over the base with a few soft cup-filled hands to cover the plant so it may absorb the world's nutrients and grow into ajisa. The Nameks' eyes shifted up once again to see yet another memory, standing over the mountain of corpses was an image. A mirror image. He stared into his own crazed eyes as they stared back. He didn’t falter or shudder at its gaze. He knew what he’d done and repents every moment for it, but doesn't ask for forgiveness, the being once known as Hachu’u - the mad winnower, now known as Lord Sax - the Didact was given another chance by the descendants of the previous grand elder; Guru. To return home and be among his kind, this echo, this soul-linked split part of himself won’t scare him. He knows himself and his limitations, but that is the crux isn’t it? So does the mad winnower, his darker half he split from himself and sealed away centuries ago. Due to a soul link, the two can continue communications privately, and mentally. “You won’t win. We’ll never be the mad winnower again. I am a farmer now. I prep the soil and prepare to propagate and help grow a generation of Nameks who will continue to achieve peace.” Lowering his head back down to continue doing just what he mentally retorted as a metaphor in the more literal now. “Namek has suffered enough of beings like the old me. They deserve better. I. Will. Be. Better.” ‘For so long. Eventually, we will separate the chaff again. Slugs gone. We have an opportunity to rule’ “Not interested. Maybe one day we will be whole again. But it will be through cooperation. Not forced control.” ‘Foolishness’ The oily voice trailed off into the crevasses of his mind. A light sweat broke him as he toiled at the ground. He believed every word, but there was a bit of doubt. To maintain the seal on the asteroid Sax sealed his darker half all those centuries ago requires him to be stronger than the other. As it stands, he is. However, that could change. This change concerns him, but with determination in his very being, he won’t allow that half to gain such control. The sounds of soil being shifted around and plants being placed continued in his solitude. Just an old Namek, planting in among many Namekian children, laughing and planting themselves. He smiled with a content heart, though his eyes said otherwise. A few light taps of the soil around the base of a growing ajisa tree, forcing the soil to form into place caused a gentle sigh to leave his nostrils. “Be better.” A small Namekian child overheard Sax muttering his mantra and broke the line of sight with the other kids to look at their mentor, with concern on his face. Sax noticed and turned to the small child, giving a reassuring smile and nod, all was well. The child returned to his tasks and so did he. 0 Comments

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