Such wonderful weather on this autumn afternoon, with wind carrying decaying leaves ever so gently. The sun is radiant and soothing, enticing the birds to sing their songs in celebration of nature's mercy.
The humble village folk were keeping themselves busy with labor while enjoying the wonderful day. The aromas of horses and farms filled the air with a prominent scent, the luscious land of a recently conquered England was much more forgiving than the lands they came from. Comfort and satisfaction kept the morale up for the majority, while even in the approach of winter, the people felt more secure than they would have over a decade ago.
Such a simple life, to farm and prosper with the fertile land and abundant crops. None of this would be possible, however, without strong guiding hands of those who fight for purpose, in the heat of warfare. Those whose destiny in life is to fight the good fight, who take advantage of every strategy and opportunity life throws at them. To ensure security and bravery for those who have not the guts or mental discipline to endure the reality of war.
Not to say that most farmers here didn't have it in them, as many fought alongside the Úlfheðnar in the Battle of Hastings. The Balderklan were all equal when it came to fighting for prosperity. Some women and children were not in a proper position to risk their lives, however, for they were destined for the prosperity of the future, after victory was assured.
There was one resident in particular who hadn't known of such hardships, a pampered yet humble youth by the name of Primus Odhinkar. He was born here in New Oslo, a firstborn of the famous Sigrid and Manning. His father's role in that battle was essential in ensuring devastation and unyielding tenacity, using perks of understanding and tactics that were unfathomable to the other parties.
Primus had been summoned by the new King of England out of the blue, and was on his way to his personal secondary homestead in the center of the village. He hadn't known what this summoning was for, but he would make haste so as to not keep him waiting. Passing by the farmers and tradesmen he would wave and greet them, as they all knew who he was. Yet none of them, Primus included, could ever fathom the true significance of his or his brother's destiny.
The blissful boy was on a fast paced walk and didn't stop for idle conversation. He was on his way to the King's personal homestead, currently being tended to by several thralls and guarded by selected Úlfheðnar. Primus had entered nonchalantly after the guards identified and let him inside, where he would anxiously wonder what this was all about.
Upon entering the dimly lit feasting hall through the open side doors, he had followed instructions to meet the King in his chambers. When he found his way there, he would find him standing there in anticipation, closing the thick wooden door behind him as Primus entered.
"Ah, young Primus. Punctual as always. Worry not, this will not take much of your time."
Balder's voice was radiant, filled with a strong will and unique intellect. Primus had a sinking feeling in his gut, for the sophisticated voice of the King had always intimidated him. He smiled politely as he held his hands behind his back, fiddling with his fingers anxiously.
"Heill ok sæll, Pep. I wasn't doing anything particularly important when you called, just playing with the others."
As the guardian of his parents, and a leader to his people, Balder was easily one not to disappoint for any task he asked of him. Even knowing him as family, the young lad was still bashful when it came to important matters of demonstration or the like. He felt unprepared, but wouldn't make it obvious.
"No such thing as wasted time, as far as I'm concerned." Said Balder with a patient smile, "Now then, let us get right to it so you can return to your day off."
Primus, under the forced professionalism he usually mustered when talking to those in command, would come off as anxious and conditioned.
"Of course, Pep. What must I demonstrate for you?"
Balder put out the remaining torches and lights in his chamber, picking up a sheen, silver and gold helmet from a table on the left.
"A simple test of your breathing is all I require, lad. I would not have you here today if the Grand Elder had not faith in your maturity. Though he speaks on your behalf, I have my own doubts, for not even your parents have come close to achieving this perspective. It is detrimental for the use of traversing and exploring the beyond, when your time does eventually come to do so."
His parents were warriors who were held in the highest regard in the Balderklan; the masters of most of their artforms, especially in the realms of warfare. His mother was 8 months pregnant during the Battle of Hastings, while his father was a leading commander of the Úlfheðnar, a berserker guiding them through the front lines.
"Still, it is something you of all people should have experience with as soon as possible, hence why I sent for you on this day at all. Assuming you have been diligent in your daily practices, you should have no issues."
His breathing exercises were something he had normally practiced on a daily basis since the age of three. It was for all sorts of reasons, from keeping calm in spars to using the sacred artifacts properly.
"It provides a foundation for you to practice while your natural perks remain dormant, and so you may prove a worthy founder of your kind. Do you understand me?"
The young Primus reluctantly nodded with a hint of subtle uncertainty to Balder. He wasn't expecting to be called forward today, and he felt anxiety sinking into his gut like venom. He would try his best, but he would hide the fact that he was procrastinating for the past few weeks. He had problems with the consistency of his discipline, though it wasn't as though he were belligerent. He simply has been feeling distracted as of late, from a wide assortment of things.
"Yes Pep, I understand."
"Mm. Very well, listen to my exact words of guidance and trust in them well. I'll be there every step of the way, but it is all going to be on you."
Primus gave a respectful nod and the King nodded back. He would offer guiding words to help the young boy, but could already tell that his performance may be lackluster. His parents, although strong and mature, were not always the best guides for the intricate yet simple use of their true potential.
"Now then, let go of any expectations that linger in your mind. Focus on breathing deep and heavy through your mouth. Do not allow the threat of prominent sensations distract you. Clear the mind, and tune your attention to the feeling of your blood pumping through your veins. Remember to focus on your breathing, for only thirty inhales and thirty exhales will suffice."
With that, Balder placed the light helmet on the young boy's head, then took a step back. Primus could barely tell it was on him, despite the spectacle that shielded his eyes. He closed them and took a deep inhale, holding it in as though to prepare himself for a few seconds before exhaling slowly. Thoughts of doubt clogged his mind, but he would not let them hinder his display to the best of his ability.
He began with a deep inhale, reaching for full lung capacity before quickly shooting the air back out of his mouth. It was the definition of voluntary breathing. After several consistent breaths, he could feel a subtle wash of vibration coursing through his body. The movement of blood, while quiet and soothing at first, began to collect and amplify the more he stuck to this exercise. He began to feel lighter, like a raven's feather.
"Realize the sensations as the helmet does its work. Trust it, and allow it to read your vibration increase."
As he focused on the rise and fall of his chest, he could feel the otherwise invisible sensations of the odd technology on his little head. It hummed with a calm display of green and yellow energetic horns that would begin to flicker while he kept his eyes closed tight.
"Relax your face, you're trying too hard."
Each breath would become more prominent and deeper than the last, slow and rhythmic. He wanted to adjust his footing, but whenever he tried, he would be scolded. Since his knees were double jointed, he was having a noticeable difficulty in controlling his balance.
"Keep still! You're distracting yourself."
His hands and fingers were tingling, his mouth was quickly becoming dry.
It was like an advanced method of meditation, with the addition of the standing position. The effort of these deep breaths, along with the weightlessness of this odd helmet, only distracted him more. So much power coursing through his body, yet he began to feel the weight of his lacking discipline. He had too much faith in his nature, and the assumption that anyone could manage doing it. There was a vibrant force coursing through him, and it was only getting more potent with each breath.
The King's words were deep yet calm, almost whispering in the dark.
"Keep up the momentum of your breath. Do not stop, trust that it is helping you."
He was desperately loosening his grip on any thoughts that came to mind. So many to look at, to grab ahold of. 'Who knew breathing could be so taxing? My mouth keeps getting dry. My body feels so light, especially my head. I hope I don't pass out. It feels so unnatural, yet not. Uuf da, does the mind ever quiet down?'
"Focus not on a single wave, watch the whole river flow."
Poor Primus was beginning to feel uneasy. His upbringing allowed him to understand Balder's words, but his lack in daily practice would struggle to put them into action. His body felt light, his focus was all on his breathing. He just couldn't tell how long he would have to do it before he passed out. Normally he would only do this for 15 breaths at a time, but when he tried doing more, he felt like he was going to lose himself. He knew he had to do 30 here, but he was unsure if he could make it. Anxiety was fluctuating but he wouldn't dare make it obvious.
On each deep exhale, he could feel his ears flush and his tongue licking his lips between each breath. His body was like a gong being hit harder and harder. It was unmistakable now, unable to be ignored. So, he focused on it. When he finally got a healthy rhythm going, he was rewarded with praise.
"That is much better, little one. You are almost there."
On his inhales, Primus began to feel the horns shrink and collect themselves. On exhale, the horns expanded ferociously, illuminating the dark room with the green and yellow essence of his being. Balder would keep quiet so as not to distract. He was about to Elevate.
The power of his puny lungs were that of a berserker preparing for battle. His body was pulsating, his veins ripe with accelerated blood flow and an increase of oxygen intake. With the helmet beginning to tune to it, he began to slowly elevate up off the floor and become semi translucent.
He was beginning to lose his rhythm as the inhales and exhales became too much to continue. When he reached 21, he felt like he was about to pass out, so he stopped and broke the pattern, slipping back dramatically onto his backside with a hard 'thud'. His body was shaking with these odd vibrations while he felt like he could inhale and exhale much longer than prior.
His body felt vibrant despite his failure. He had done this only a few times before, even though it was meant to be a daily practice. He just hated the dry mouth and effort he had to put into it enough to forget its significance.
Lacking endurance doused the bonfire of his momentum, thus resulting in him failing to Elevate. He felt light yet grounded, lost in the settling of this mental reset he just performed.
Balder sighed and shook his head, keeping his stern facade on so as to properly put the child in his place. He spoke through his long, silver beard that had glistened in response to the now dull flaming horns on the helmet.
Discipline is very important, especially for a child destined for so much more than his people could ever prepare him for. He bent down and took the helmet off of Primus's head, holding it in both hands while he spoke.
"It would seem your lack of discipline betrays your performance, young one."
"Sorry, Pep. I would like to try again, if you will allow me to."
Balder shook his head and stood up, gesturing for him to do the same.
"No. Not with my guidance. Go home and practice, for it is the foundation of not only Elevation, but for your spars and discipline."
Primus felt put in his place. "It won't happen again Pep, I promise."
"If you slack on this fundamental practice even further, you will only continue to fail yourself. You would have had no issues today if you took this matter seriously. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, Pep. I will keep true to my oath."
Balder set the now warm helmet onto the table and began turning his lights back on. It's horns were gone now, since it no longer had a wielder.
"Today you have proven my doubts, but do not take failure as lacking development. Be sure to put it in the proper perspective, and it will never be in vain. Now run along, for I must meet with my son soon."
Primus reluctantly stood to his feet and felt more at ease, now that this was over. Performance under the guidance of one of the most influential people he had ever known had ended as quickly as it began. He felt a mix of shame and relief, and only wanted to prove to him that he could do a simple breathing exercise next time around.
"Farewell Pep, and thank you."
With that, he opened the heavy wooden door and made his way outside.