Kiria's POV----
Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inha-
"Whe-where am I?" Kiria or rather the lost soul sprung onto his feet as he looked around. He found himself in standing in complete darkness. With no knowledge of his whereabouts. And this...
"Hah... hah... n-no!"
This reminded himself of that time. When was alone. With nobody, no help. No name to call out to. No thing to recognise around. And this... this terrified him so. So much so that his breathes became rapid and thin. A sensation he couldn't feel as a mere soul before. But now felt as a body that truly didn't belong to him.
He didn't like this and so he ran. And ran a d ran and ran. He ran do much to the point where his mind numbed out and so did his body that drive itself. As if finally gaining the consciousness that the lost soul had taken from it. But alas. There was no where to go. Well at least now place he knew of here to reach out to. For the only place he clearly knew was... Lowesia. And its people, anf his family. And...
"Ahhhh, ah hah hah hahhhh!" He cried as he slowly fell to the ground with his hands scrapped against his long uniquely beautiful dreads.
The hone he knew. Back in Migrosha. Oh me oh my he thought, what a better decision it would have been not to let himself go for that trial. And so hw wanted to rage and scream at the world of Lowesia and its... its heinous cultures, rules and ways. Yes, yes they were heinous. So much do that innocent youths died in the process and all for what? Some sort self justification they needed from society? Screw that, he thought. Screw it all.
And then he fell again. As he lain flat on the ground in this darkness that coldly housed him. This clueless, lost soul. Screw it all, he thought as he then did the one thing he swore that he'd never do again. He... he closed his eyes. And so he got scared and quickly opened them once more. But as he did do, hoping that the next site would be at least reasonable after all he has been through. Who wouldn't blame him, but unfortunately....
Once again in the world that seemed to exist in between balance itself, fate had found its way to him. To Kiria. To the lost soul as for when he opened his eyes.
A grotesquely familiar site, reflected in his eyes.
Duba's POV----
Duba looked around as his blurry gaze cleared and his surroundings became more evident to him. And he could tell two of three things. One that the culture he thought would've died all so long ago was still alive. Nevertheless it had actually been... enriched in a way he could tell from the stains of blood and aura that enveloped the shrine. Two, was that this body that he taken control of was truly the most cursed to be in. He could see the ground clearly. He could notice the motion of many things around. He could barely sense any emolit much less to say spiritual essence within him. At least that thrived this boy's body right? Well, that still disappointed Duba as he looked around. Realising that his day dreams were distracting him from the occurrence of events before him. Of course. He coul. For he was now shorter and more scrawny than the average person by now right? Oh well, certain things have to happen with reason right? Yes, yes some did. And this case. It brought him to his third conclusion which he just couldn't make out properly.
How much had everything changed since his passing on? Were the houses made if metals? Or still made of the finest mud and wood? Did the cultures change up a little bit from then? Or had thry simply just been replicated by the fools who were probable descendants of the those groveled at the feet of him and his siblings back in the Medayn Era? He didn't know... and so he wanted to know and... to find out just how much had 'changed since his death.
And as he slowly snapped out of his daze once more, his gaze fell upon two figures that were present at a fair distance from him. From Kiria or from-
"Dammit Rarak, who did you say that was again?" The chief mused with a low pained tone in his voice as his left hand clutched the middle of his abdomen just at his diaphragm area.
"..."
"Ra-Rarak, Rarak what's-", "Shut it shut it shut it! Shhhh, do you not see what, no, forgive me...," the priest interrupted Kakisa as he spoke to him with a more interested and urgent tone in his voice than what was expected to be heard from him right now. And this... this left Kakisa baffled.
"Forgive you for-"
"Shhhh, not you. Not you never you... I mean this boy... this magnificent blessed boy." Kaka spoke as the urgency soon turned into a delighted praise as he then bowed in their cultures way. The 'original' way.
And that's when Kakisa's eyes shot open. With a kind of shock that one would possess upon a horrible discovery. And his case where this was as well the wrong reaction. It was. He he looked at Rarak and then boy and then Rarak and then the boy and then again at Rarak. He did this around several times. His face twisting with more unpleasant recognition by the second. And then in clicked. A quick but truly meaningful flashback to a time when him and a bunch of other children were listening to Rarak talk about the legend of... The Angel of Fury.
And from what he properly recalled... was that in this case the white markings from his face to neck, from his shoulders to back, from his back to upper and lower abdomens and from his waist to his legs. These were a part of something that greatly created the history that Kakera clans could call, their own.
And that the boy who stood before them although foreign to them had become only what those who had trained and had tirelessly honed to perfection of their tribes standard had become. An Ishike. This... technically meant one thing.
And that was...
"Oi! You." Duba spoke through Kiria's mouth as his voice came out as a perfected mix of authority and youth.
"I don't like that your just sited there while the old man's busy blowing out his back so..," he said as grimacing smirk perked up on his face whilst popping the cartilage in his stiffened stone fingers as he added, "I'm going to teach you some... manners."
Their king. This boy. Who was nothing more than a pawn on the board that been knocked out fair and square was chosen to be reformed and refined into... a true piece of the board. A king!
But this did not mean that he had the chief shaking in his boots, no, unlike Rarak. Kakisa was more of a-
"Tsk, old man put em up if you can."
Jealousy raging person. And right about now... he was truly jealous! That whilst he had to deal with all the problems going on... a commoner... a damned commoner got to take what should've been his.
"Gehahaha! Splendid!"
Or was that the true case of this senario?
[To all those I owe chapters... know that everyday from tomorrow till Friday there will be a 4 chapter release. So let's lock in!!!]