Antierra Manifesto – blog post #76

While I draw him after me again I marvel at the design and temper of those short blades in the sandals. It penetrated cheelth as if it was paper and I’d be willing to bet there is hardly any dulling of the cutting edges. Way to go Master Smith, I love you!

End blog post #75
_________________

Begin blog post #76

Chapter 33 – The Fight of the Beasts – Part Two

Three hours into the fight, according to the great wall chrono and finally the trumpet calls the time out for cooling down, drink, weapons switch entailing armour replacements and patch up work on the cuts if needed. My handlers bring a first aid kit, help me remove all my armour since the next fight has to be with the rapier and dagger requiring we do it naked. Using sterilized and anaesthetized fibresteel staples they patch my cut and apply morphing tape on it. I bite on the handle of my rapier to absorb the pain. I nod I am OK to proceed and adjust my sandals.

Since I ‘invented’ the sandals we have been permitted to wear them in combat even when the rules demanded we be naked. Foot wear is not considered part of one’s apparel. Like so many other rules pertaining to the treatment of fighters, rape, and procedural matters of fighting, it would be a complete waste of time to wade through them looking for either common sense or consistency of enforcement. This world is choking on legalistic legalism. They make laws to interpret laws, laws to enforce laws, laws to render existing laws unenforceable. And yet bottom line is, all law breaking is considered a crime, all crimes are a capital offence. What was it that I learned during my days with the Supremacy forces? That when a thing becomes all, it becomes nothing? Absolutism destroys the very thing it would become… or claims to be.

As I prepare my mind for round two, I recall my Teaching to the women in the compound a few days ago. I wonder if they are doing the prayer I taught them. I sense they are. And I look into the sky above for the circling vultures. Hmmm, yes the are still there. Well, I did not say it would happen today, did I. What I said was, it would be a long time before these scavengers are frightened away by the sky boat of the goddess Desert Beast in her green scale suit. A long time. A time to determine whether they chose to become self-empowered, or chose to forget and remain in their slavery. That choice I cannot make for them, only for myself. But perhaps I can help them make it. By example.

In actual fact, the only thing that will send the scavengers away is when they no longer find food outside the great Keep of Hyrete – when they are no longer being fed the bodies of fighters and other female victims of the Power that rules Malefactus.

I drink greedily and surreptitiously slip the stim cube out of a tight lock of hair above my left ear and slip it into my mouth, cutting into it and letting it take effect slowly. Amazing stuff but I can’t understand how anyone could become addicted to it. That sex-slave trainee must have been introduced to it in some bastardized form, with something else in it, added to it or injected in it. Chakr mix? Possible. Or some kind of subtle poison which would explain her insane outburst.

I am able to penetrate the Warmo’s mind block while he is pondering his next moves. In my mind I actually see the attendant inject the poison on the end of the dagger blade, wait a couple of seconds for it to gel and blister the steel, then slip the blade back into its closed scabbard. Subtle enough for the average person, but I’m using Avatari functions today. I’ve noticed that lately they have been returning to me incrementally. I never thought I could use them to actually fight with intent to kill someone. Much to learn, I have!

Strengthened by food, water, stim and the short rest, I slip on the belt that holds the dagger in its scabbard. I take the rapier in both hands, lift it high over my head pointing directly at the sun and perform a high flipping throw, letting the thin blade gleam and vibrate in the sunlight. I wait for the thin sword to return to me and grab its handle as it comes down, blade straight up. Again I lift it high, only this time as a salute. Then I flip it down, tip into the sand and bowing my head, I wait for the centering trumpet.

It seems an unusually long time in coming. The crowd is growing restless without its usual quota of cut flesh, spilled blood and screams from the dying. I wonder too – what’s the hold-up?

A judge in a bright red robe and hood thrown back comes striding into the ring, kicking sand with his bare feet and puffing. He’s carrying a gold circle in his hand meaning he has a priority message. He stops by a group of trainers and handlers who have assembled. He slips the ring up his arm, indicating he is speaking for the Courts and the Law. He points at me and explains something with arm and hand gestures. A handler shakes his head negatively and angrily. The judge points at him and does the hand across the throat sign. ‘Shut up or die!’

A trainer comes over to me. “You slave, take off sandals, now! Fight naked now, no shoe.” I unstrap my sandals and hand them to him. He rips them from my hands and throws them at the judge’s feet.

He yells at me, “Now krosspeeg, you listen. This fight special, different, understand. When challenger drops belt and weapon, you do same or you flogged by challenger, killed. When he ready, you fight – no weapons, understand? If he no weapons, you no weapons. You keep weapon, guards cut arm off with laser.” He says these words clearly so they carry into the crowd.

Then he comes closer to me and under guise of checking my weapons or belt he whispers: “Sorry to you, we must obey Law judge. Big change, big problem with the Warmo. Much evil done. Cannot help you. Must fight bare hands. Sorry you not trained. Much we need you win. You OK now?” I nod and would just love to hug him and assure him it’s all right.

The Warmo has taken off his boots and suddenly drops his belt and weapons. He stares at me and I cast a sidelong glance at his totally naked body and the way his toes curl in the sand. Powerful legs and forearms. Have to concentrate on those. Yes indeed, this is a switch. There has never been a weaponless fight has long as I’ve fought in this place. Only in the killing orgies have I seen people tear into each other with bare hands, or kick each other in the genitals or face. But those were free-for-alls and no one would dare intrude to bring order.

The trainer raises his voice again. “Understand now, krosspeeg? You animal, fight like animal. Beast fight with beast, no weapons.” To avoid punishment or worse, forfeit of the fight, I drop my rapier and dagger belt and the trainer grabs them and throws them at the judge’s feet also.

So what the Warmo let me see in his mind was a complete fabrication, a deception. I understand now what the Warmo is doing. First, by disarming me he’s preventing me from fulfilling my promise, should I win, to cut him down piece by piece and torture him to death. Second, if he gets close enough he will bite me, Vampire fashion and drink my blood to weaken me and strengthen himself. That taste of warm female blood is how he gets his power. I know that even my bionic wrists, which he must suspect I have somehow acquired, seeing as how he destroyed my original wrists on his infernal cross, and the small cube of stale stim I have ingested cannot prevail against what he plans for me.

However, like Samson recovering his strength as his hair regrows, my Avatari awareness has been returning to me. And the reason is, this battle is for the very soul of T’Sing Tarleyn, hence of Túat Har. On the etheric we are not human combatants but cosmic divinities fighting for the mind of an entire world. One of us wants to own them to devour them one by one; one of us came to redeem and to set free.

One of us is the Demon; the other the Avenging Angel.

End blog post #76

11 thoughts on “Antierra Manifesto – blog post #76

  1. Hyperion

    Masterfully told, Sha’Tara. I feel the gripping tension as Antierra relates the battle and her transition from gladiatress to the avenging angel. Much of my career in the dark arts of battle felt like that. The politics and handshakes with nefarious allies always preyed on my mind but when I was in contact with those suffering the horror of violence directed at them, it did feel like we were avenging angels. One never wins conflict with capitulation, or any other soft or kind response. The Warmo’s that prey on the weak have no ability to use or understand what motivates those that arrive to help without judgement and who distribute aid and medical care without cost to the affected population. No, they only come to understand when their violence is overmatched by a tsunami of fire and death. Once the western world grew sick of victory and all that entails, the earth plunged into the era of endless war and the sickness that infects all who come to know this hopeless melee of insanity. One who does not possess a strong inner compass either becomes a disciple of Warmo or dies. These people fear death more than living a life in Warmo’s Hell and so Evil has the greatest Army and that Army has not forsaken victory.

    Reply
    1. Sha'Tara Post author

      Yes Daniel, and that strong inner compass requires much courage to learn how to use it properly, like the Star Wars Jedi learning to work with the Force.

      Reply
      1. Hyperion

        Something we haven’t explored together specifically are the attributes or traits of that being we hope to become or elevate further. These traits are so rare, they may be on the path of extinction. That is loyalty, dedication, integrity, honor, responsibility, and personal courage. There are others and the descriptions are missing here but I call these personal attributes that we develope within ourself and not just expect from others. To learn, practice, and master the skill of “The Force” does take enormous courage because the path to becoming that person described is incredibly difficult and can become derailed in a single weak moment with a bad decision. Antierra has to navigate a horrific existence but she has never compromised her worthy objectives even though she has had to sacrifice much just to stay alive long enough to make her point and show the way. I find this poignant and beautiful, a reminder that we can be more than what we are.

      2. Sha'Tara Post author

        A great comment, again. When I first encountered the Star Wars story I thought it was a childish, poorly done science fiction tale. Then I read the tales and much changed. I realized that we all had the potential to be Jedis; that any of us could learn to work with the Force. But I was, shall we say, disheartened to learn that the Force had a light and a dark side and we had both inside of us, thus it wasn’t going to be a magical transformation for the good if we engaged our life to work with the Force. There was going to be power, sure, but we would always have to choose which side we were going to use in any particular situation. I’ve chosen to walk into some pretty hairy situations myself where my choices would have meant death had some “Power” not intervened. Gradually through these exercises or events, I discovered an aspect of the Force that pushed the danger of using the dark side into a controllable background, I discovered compassion and if I gave myself utterly to that “Force” then, whether I lived or died, it would be, as they say, impeccably. No guilt and no regret. If we live and act compassionately the results are always “right” even if, as Antierra struggles with so much, we do it through compromised morality. We have to follow the dream and vision quest. Compassion is “safe” because as far as I have been able to test, it does not have a dark side.

      3. Hyperion

        I had a similar experience. Star Wars was at first entertainment but grew on me as a way to examine how some of us can tap into an awareness that enables us to pick our way through the challenges we face whether dangerous and immediate or looming in the fog of a distant future. And what a beautiful power compassion is. If we master it in a way that allows us to live solely in it’s positive light, no matter the challenge, we can go on to the next iteration of life fully invested in that noble purpose that lifts humans out of the pointless existence to a more divine humanity. Maybe that is the ultimate golden path. The greatest majority will perish but eventually the path emerges and all who are left can see it.

      4. Hyperion

        It is my eternal pleasure to hear Antierra’s message, to study her trevails on Malefactus, and know there is a deeper meaning like the ringing of bells that call to me to come and see for myself who or what makes this beautiful music.

      5. Hyperion

        Ha ha ha! That only happens when I’m oxygen starved from falling asleep while reading with my head down. I would think more oxygen would be better but in my case, that just isn’t true. Later, when I’m so old I sleep most of the day, I should be a regular poetic genius. I won’t make any sense but the words will rhyme. 😁

      6. Hyperion

        I’m counting on good sense to swoop down and rescue me. I shall remain indeterminatly patient. In the mean time, willy, nilly, to and fro is my mantra. 😉

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