Antierra Manifesto – blog post #77

(…and the one-on-one to the death battle continues unabated)

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
Begin blog post #77

What I don’t understand is how the Warmo was able to get the rules changed for this fight. What legal technicality was he able to invoke and what did it cost him to buy the judges? Whatever, it’s done and I have to deal with these last minute “improvements” that the crowd I’m sure is really going to get off on. Especially if we come close enough to hold each other in the so-called ‘death grip’ which I’ve heard talk about but never seen done. If it comes to that I’ll know when the time comes to perform this thing. I’ll know what to do.

I know if he succeeds in overcoming me he will bite into my neck and draw my blood while he rapes me, not physically but with his poisoned mind and his scent that will work on me as a neuro-inductor would. He’s shown me by mind-touch the ritual he’s indulged in so many times with women in his torture dungeons. Some of the stories must have gotten out somehow and that explains why there is such a universal hate and fear of him. I can see in his mind that he now wishes he had raped me and drank my blood while he had me in his custody, but then he figured he had all the time in the world and wanted to destroy my will before he destroyed my mind and body. Now he is convinced he can finish the job. He is staring at me and smiling. Involuntarily I shudder at what I sense.

Still waiting for the trumpet call I trance out of Warmo into my own body. I trace its muscles and the bionic and positronic replacements. They seem to be in perfect order. I see nothing that could be taken advantage of except perhaps that massive black-blue bruise with the bleeding skin on my shoulder. But the arm movement is not unduly affected by it and I can easily control the pain. I’m sure the Warmo is nursing worse from my foot stab. Too bad about losing those amazing sandals. Oh well… I have done deadly things with my bare feet in the past.

We’ve moved as close to each other as possible without being able to touch. And we wait. More restlessness. Suddenly several trumpets blare. We’re free to attack each other. I feel strange in this position. I’m used to handling weapons to attack, not do it with my bare hands. I feel terribly naked for a moment and have to play-back many past lives to get some idea how to proceed. I extend my arms, hands and fingers in a straight line towards the Warmo. There is no plan in this except to confuse him and gain a sense of my own reach without my “extenders” or weapons. He would know my move is not a workable tactic and he must also know I would have at least some rudimentary skills to fight hand to hand. He also knows I have a very powerful body boosted by my additional height and length of arms and legs.

Despite all that he can’t help but move in to attempt a grab at my forearms to break them by pulling me down over his leg. My own plan is simple, if dumb. I need to learn what he knows of martial arts. It must be considerable for him to choose to fight me without weapons. I have to assume he knows moves I’ve never heard of. How far back does he extend his knowledge of this discipline? How much of an adept is he?

I bend to his pull and fall across his thigh, then double over and land upright behind him, giving him a powerful kick near the base of the spine. He tumbles forward, gasps and regains his footing two meters from me, whirls to face me and return to the attack. I sidestep his rush and parry his finger thrust at my jugular as he whips by, smashing my fist into his fingers. Crude but effective move taking advantage of his speed. I know I break at least one of his fingers by the expression on his face and the feeling I get in the pit of my stomach.

Again we face each other, crouching, weighing our moves and their chances of succeeding. The obvious for me would be to kick to the groin with my bionic ankle. Problem is, he expects me to do that and will have a counter that will take me by surprise. I cannot afford any surprises. I forego the temptation and back away a single step. He follows, comes forward and moves in closer. I can smell that nauseating body odour of his in a change of breeze. It smells even more of putrefaction.

End blog post #77

10 thoughts on “Antierra Manifesto – blog post #77

  1. Hyperion

    Again, a masterful reveal of Antierra’s thoughts as she tries to anticipate Warmo and develop a counter strategy. The transition from close quarter combat into hand to hand is a descent from tactics to outright insanity but the well trained warrior is sensing the minutia of each move where the strike into a momentary opening will kill the opponent or result in a deadly counter. Strength, speed, and skilled movement without the burden of thought is often the difference between life and death. The story leads us through this most ancient and animalistic ritual of death with the added horror of Warmo’s evil. The putrid odor and sensing of Warmo’s plans for Antierra is mind wrecking tension and anticipation of the final outcome. You bring it with no holds barred. Whew! I’m exhausted and feeling the pain of accumulated battle wounds. Honestly, I think if we outlawed all weapons of any nature upon pain of execution on the spot when discovered, we would still fight in this ancient way, but fighting would be rare and deadly outcomes more rare because our minds and bodies cannot withstand the damage and horror of repeated encounters in the way Antierra is forced to live and die.


    1. Sha'Tara Post author

      I’m certainly thankful I ran into you as an experienced warrior to analyze Antierra’s state of mind in dealing with her chosen life on Malefactus. I know I wrote this manuscript and I know it was powerfully inspired and I know it is suppose to be “my” reality several hundred years down my own road in coming to grips with this particular world’s problems but it isn’t my current realty. I don’t have that experience, I’m only “translating” events and feelings with the best words I possess, and some I even had to translate from the French as my English was lagging behind the rush of inspiration. So here you are, taking each segments and so accurately commenting on them. I’m not sure I believe in luck but if I do, then I consider myself very lucky indeed that you would take time to do this. Thank you for all your comments relating to the Manifesto, Daniel.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Hyperion

        I must commend you on being able to write in English with such clarity. You have a style that is your own, no rehash of the commercial formula, but an entranching way of bonding the reader to the story. Also, if I didn’t know you from WordPress and was reading the story as a novel, I would think you had spent time in the military and had mastered the warrior ethos as well as researched with a rare due diligence reserved for the masters. But most of all, I would have keyed into the great depth of your vision, something that is too tangible to be a fantastic story alone. It is a manifesto that for me alters the wandering trajectory of my life and gives me laser like focus. I have for many years hidden myself from myself sinking into the comfort of the mud at the bottom of life’s pond. You have awakened me and though I must pour the old accumulations out to see what to keep, what to through away, and what to add anew, you have been there to guide the way. It is rare and nearly against all odds that we and people like us can find each other here on WP. But, I have instantly felt connections with the right people here and found two DNA cousins simply from recognizing them through their writing and our connection through comments. Both helped me fill in my own ancestry by completing the puzzle going back to ancient Greece and the long trek through history to arrive here at this moment. We find each other because there is a part of us that knows and seeks each other. My Revenant story was a wink at that ability to reconnect the dots in each life. So I consider our sharing of thoughts a reconnection and a very positive effort toward what is for me a reawakening and another phase of learning. Antierra is not unlike many people I have met that are true Warriors. Many, were not consumed by violence but considered the violence a right of passage to that place where they could put their minds and bodies to better use. Most of them, like myself sought out vocations that empowered life in a positive light rather than sink into the horror of conflict to the point of no return. Noble purpose was their guiding light. Your writing and sharing of your vision is in my view the most noble of purposes.


      2. Sha'Tara Post author

        Thank you Daniel. I write (I suppose) from this, and past lives, experiences, and from 20 years of pointed (masterful) teaching from the Teachers. It is greatly to your credit that you are willing and able to connect with this. You are tapping into something the same as I and our willingness to hear and listen allows us to break free of the programming and evolve mentally. This exchange brings to mind that famous 70’s song, made popular by Barry Manilow: “I Write The Songs, Barry Manilow
        I’ve been alive forever
        And I wrote the very first song
        I put the words and the melodies together
        I am music and I write the songs.
        Some adepts will always know when someone says, or writes, of personal remembrances, memories of experiences; they will know how to sort the invented, the fake, the plagiarized from reality. You happen to be one of those, Daniel.

        Liked by 1 person

      3. Hyperion

        I tear at the programing and rip my own skin to escape it. I have a plan to spring myself from the prison I’ve imposed on myself. It takes time and desperation can undo more than it does. I remind myself daily that I must do this carefully. My walking away from a job that feeds stress and exasperation to my own version of Golden Pond to refill my Zen bucket and ponder those things worth pondering is my beacon. To give everything up to live in the compassion we speak of often can only be achieved when I can shut out the religious and sectarian noise that is killing us and the planet. I’m close, Sha’Tara. I can sense it, taste it, feel it, even smell it, but I can’t yet see it. I will. No doubt of that.


      4. Hyperion

        Ha ha ha ha! A sign of my ever increasing descent into the fog. My son was raised in the country with a pond nearby called Golden Pond. It made all the difference in the world to his life. But Walden Pond was what I had in mind. Ole HDT makes more sense now than when he was shoved up my posterior centered universe in highschool literature class.


      5. Sha'Tara Post author

        There was also a popular ’80’s movie “On Golden Pond” starring the Fonda’s – Henry and Jane.
        I had to read “old HTD” (makes him sound like an old tractor) on my own – never went high enough up the academic ladder to have it shoved at me. It was rather pedantic, I thought, but then I hadn’t yet learned that Thoreau was in individualist, a self empowered person. In those days, “power group” was all that mattered to me. Like yourself, I have changed that viewpoint, about 180 degrees in my case.

        Liked by 1 person

      6. Hyperion

        Ha! I saw that movie when it came out. Maybe that memory corrupted the other pond memories. Yes, indeedy, I am giving my notice that this old geezer is going home and so the truth as I see it is no longer being filtered when I have a bone to pick with my superiors. The don’t know if I’m the town crier or the village idiot. They just know I make a lot of noise.


  2. deteremineddespitewp

    While I was reading this Arketre was definitely leaning over my shoulder whispering to Antierra ‘Everything is a weapon girl,’….these characters eh?
    The shortness of the post struck me here, reflecting the first savage and swift contacts as the two fighters skirmish at this new stage of the contest. Jab-jab. The words came fast and flowing.



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