Saku pulled out a small envelope from his belt pouch; he poured a snow like substance into the pedestal dish to bury the marble then returned to the seating booth to remove his overcoat, belts, weapons, gloves and boots, (so he was barefooted) and other bits and pieces on his body so only his clothes remained. He placed them on the empty seat next to Lita for safeguarding.
I was enthralled by the slenderness of his porcelain hands and his perfectly trimmed fingernails. His feet were smooth and beautifully shaped almost as if an artist had sculptured them. He was an epitome of divine handsomeness. My eyes wandered over his body, which was erect with perfect posture on the north joining point of the crown cakra floor symbol.
The room fell to an intense silence as he moved in a slow and elegant dance around the room, gracefully touching each joining point of the cakra symbol with the tips of his toes.
My heart pounded at the touch of the delicious breeze that stroked my skin, and the sweet scent of vanilla lazing about the air. The atmosphere became charged with a sensation akin to static.
Wilfred gestured for me to look to the ceiling. I was amazed at the glowing points of the stained-glass symbol where Saku's feet touched those points on the floor's version.
I returned my attention to Saku's dancing, which stirred more static to spark white light from the silver and bronze borders around the room.
The floor symbol glowed. Its light intensified as his dance increased in speed and complexity. Panels of subdued hard-light formed out of the border lines. They were pulled around the floor symbol's outline by his dance. He added some high, low and roundhouse kicks into his choreography, which caused the hard-light panels to reshape and resize about the floor. His dance collected the reshaped panels towards the pedestal. They eventuated into a box of hard-light, which formed a lid over the pedestal's dish.
He stopped his dancing and ceremoniously approached the glowing box. His arms moved with bold sweeps and controlled slashes around it, stirring a cloudy light to fill the inside until it was dense and burning bright.
His dance finished with a loud clap, keeping his hands together in a prayer. He stepped back to the East join of the cakra symbol, carefully lowered himself to the floor, without breaking his prayer hands, and into a crossed leg position. His eyes closed as he chanted a mystical script.
I peered at the pedestal's cloudy box, which was pulsating with burning white light.
An involuntary gasp escaped my mouth as light streamed out of the box in all directions to form pictures in the air. The entire circular room became saturated with colours, light and images to form a scene.
I was back in Gat Shiem, standing in the astronomy book section of the Library Tower, close to the spiral wrought iron stairway that led to the tower's observation deck of its observatory.
My nose picked up a familiar scent of woody incense lingering the air from where it burned in the room's shrine. I brushed the scrolls spread out on the benches before me. Tears brimmed my eyes when I felt a papery texture. The dry stuffiness, I used to complain about every time I trailed War on his stacking shifts, made my heart beat painfully.
"It's not real. I'm not here." I keep chanting in my head. It didn't help that my whole body ached with the familiarity of being there.
"Freend. We home?" Small Cap innocently asked. He had been in shock when he woke and poked his head out of the pouch to see himself in the Library Tower.
"Freend! It home!"
Small Cap scrambled out of the pouch excitedly, about to take a flying leap onto the bench with the scrolls. Leinard's sharp order made him recoil and scurry back into the pouch.
YOU ARE READING
"I'll find a way to save my brother. Do whatever the hell you want. I'm stealing your guns." Famine is a man determined to save his three brothers after they were tragically separated when a magical fire destroyed their monastery home. He finds him...