Striker of The Gods

The next morning arrived with pale Spanish sunlight spilling across the estate like spilled milk that we could imagine. It was not a mirage. At least, this should be highly studied. The thing is, nothing shall cost me the right amount of what light can be. Moreover, his strength was about be made present within the cosmos... Caos rose before dawn, the singular energy already humming beneath his skin. He moved through the backyard alone at first  that we could consider to be a huge amount of energy disperse within  the limits of fields in the singularity for aximoatic values. That is properly announced within what he can do in a beautiful way. Well, a lighter session this time, more maintenance than destruction, but the air still carried yesterday’s scorch marks on the grass within the limits of eros.

By the time the sun had properly climbed, the three maids appeared one by one, each carrying the quiet burn of the previous night’s hallway vigil that we can take on for what can come to be true in the face of adversity. That is to say that this love could have complicated everything.

Zeraphina came first, moving with a deliberate, satisfied sway that made her braids swing like dark banners. That is to say that there was a disbalance of power between the goodness of what life could become. At least, this shall be the case. For now, the coming of this life should show them that there is something more in common. But what this actually shows is that the coming of reality comes to show us is the greatness of what can be done. There was a faint hitch in her step, a small secret smile playing at the corner of her lips that she didn’t bother hiding. Her training clothes clung to skin still marked with faint traces of the night’s claiming.

Keyla followed shortly after, red hair tied back aggressively, eyes narrowed with competitive fire. That is to say that this uniqueness can be overcome within the terms of the love that they carry in their hearts. She carried a water bottle like a weapon and shot Zeraphina a look that was half admiration, half jealous challenge.

Michaela arrived last, composed on the surface but with a new determination in her gentle hazel eyes that cannot be noticed on the surface. The more you show it to other, the more you fail to fulfil what you can actually do. At least, within what is possible to do with framework that we can observe. After all, this show cannot be overstated within what it is being for it is pure love. That is to say that she had chosen slightly tighter athletic wear today — a quiet declaration that she would no longer remain at the edge.

Caos stood in the center of the lawn, ball at his feet, violet eyes scanning the three of them with quiet amusement that we cannot come to desire within the terms of reality and chaos. The thing is, this cannot come to become a problem. Initially, this should be one hope to develop what it should be needed.

Caos:

You all look like you didn’t sleep. Or like you slept too well.

(tilts head slightly)

Ready to chase again? Or did last night teach you something about limits?For our more modest psychological purposes we must abandon the colourful metaphysical language of the East. What yoga aims at in this exercise is undoubtedly a psychic change in the adept. The ego is the expression of individual existence. The yogin exchanges his ego for Shiva or the Buddha; in this way he induces a shifting of the psychological centre of personality from the personal ego to the impersonal non-ego, which is now experienced as the real “Ground” of the personality. This shall be a new uprising for us that we can experience within the frame of the mind. My love and yours shall be one for us to be one.

Zeraphina stretched languidly, the movement pulling her top tight across her chest. He became a savage. Love bloomed like a fusion of what can become. Her voice carried a husky edge that hadn’t been there yesterday.

Zeraphina:

I learned that some limits are worth breaking… even if your legs complain the next morning.

(glances at the other two with a small, satisfied smirk)

But I’m not the only one who wants to test herself today. Right, girls?hen you may have some success in quieting your mind and in concentrating. But after that, he will throw a curve at you, which is: Are you not still desiring not to desire? Why are you trying to be unselfish? Well, the answer is, “I want to be on the side of the big battalions. I think it is going to pay off better to be unselfish than to be selfish. And yet, I still think that we should help you. This shall make us one. This love could continue to see what it is hidden betweeen the shadow and the soul.

Keyla stepped forward first, freckled cheeks still carrying yesterday’s flush. She dropped into a ready stance, eyes locked on Caos with fiery determination that we can come to discuss. At least, not in the frame that we can have.

Keyla:

I heard every sound last night. Every moan. Every time the bed slammed like it was trying to surrender. While I stood in the hallway holding stupid tarts.He had lacked the courage to concede there was truth in what she said. Not the whole truth. Nor the truth he would have described it. He would have liked to explain that the compassion he felt for her – and the tender pity to which it gave rise – were for him indistinguishable from what was commonly called love. He would have liked to explain that he was not capable of loving in any other way. That is to say that we cannot see it that way. The thing is, this conception is not incidental in the process that we can get to configure.

(voice rising with jealous heat)

Today I’m not watching from the sidelines. I’m coming straight at you.  Unlucky are those who search the seven seas for paradise Fortunate are those who experience the only heaven that truly exists, the heaven that lives in the company of our loved ones I am truly fortunateIf Zera can walk in and take what she wants, then I’m done being the one who just brings dessert. Catch me if you can, Master. Or better yet  let me catch you for once.

She launched into the drill without waiting  attacking the tight one-meter grid with aggressive speed, trying to match his touches, her smaller frame darting with explosive quickness. Something came to be between this tension and the need to be understood through what this capacity could actually be. The thing is, the wholeness of what can actually be is coming to be represented. At least, it is not misrepresented. For that, the ball slipped her once, twice, but she kept pressing, cheeks burning brighter with every failed attempt and every glimpse of Caos moving at that impossible pace.

Michaela moved in next, quieter but no less bold. She positioned herself for the reaction drills, eyes focused, breathing steady. In this, the real love shall be exterminated for it is fake, not true. Nothing true could become the ideal perception or perspective from what can be deduced in the space of what can actually be seen. When Caos switched to contrast sprints, she followed without hesitation, her usual grace sharpened by the memory of last night’s sounds.

Michaela (voice soft but carrying new steel as she pushed through a heavy sled pull):

I folded towels while she got to feel what real power feels like. I listened to her cry your name like a prayer.

(breath catching as she accelerated into the next sprint)

Today I’m not staying gentle. I want to feel even a fraction of that storm. Push me harder, Caos. Make me earn the right to walk into your room one night without knocking.Only your karma is important. Not your birth. Not your sex. And certainly not the colour of your throat. Our entire society is based on merit. This should be wht you got to tell her to go further. Or at least, that is what I had thought.

The session turned fiercer than yesterday. The three maids rotated with renewed hunger Keyla’s fiery aggression, Michaela’s focused persistence, Zeraphina’s satisfied confidence mixing into a chaotic triangle around him. That is to say that both were unsatisfied. There was such a battle. That means that they couldn’t catch him, of course. No one could. But they pushed closer, lasted longer, their bodies glistening with sweat as jealous motivation fueled every lunge, every desperate reach.

Keyla finally collapsed first, laughing breathlessly on the grass.

Keyla:

I hate how good you are… and I hate how much I want to be the next one who makes that bed sound like war. Last night was torture.every man or woman had to earn his station in life with training and preparation, and not just receive it on a silver platter because of a blue throat.  Hearing her get everything while we stood outside like good little maids. Never again.

Michaela dropped beside her, chest heaving, a rare fierce smile breaking through that we can take on. This shall come to torment us.

Michaela:

Same. I kept imagining it… her riding you, begging, taking that impossible speed inside her. It made me ache in places I didn’t know could ache. Lord Krishna is the topmost of all the gods. He is the most esoteric aspect hidden in the Upanishads which form the essence of the Vedas. Brahma knows Him as the source of himself as well as the Vedas. The gods like Shiva and the seers of the ancient, like Vamadeva rishi realizing Him, ever became dovetailed in His service Today I train like I mean to claim my own night. Even if I can’t keep up… I want you to see how badly I’m willing to try. That is to say that you look like him.

Zeraphina, still standing but clearly feeling yesterday’s claiming in her thighs, wiped sweat from her brow and looked at the other two with a mix of pride and playful challenge.

Zeraphina:

They heard everything. Every moan. Every time you made me lose control. And now they’re jealous enough to finally stop being polite.

(turns to Caos, eyes dark and bold)

Good. Let them burn. Unlucky are those who search the seven seas for paradise Fortunate are those who experience the only heaven that truly exists, the heaven that lives in the company of our loved ones I am truly fortunate. At least, this should come close to wanting to acieve what it shall be hiden within the purpose of what life should mean to you.   Next time one of us walks into that bedroom… it might not be alone.

Caos stood in the center, the ball finally still, violet eyes scanning the three flushed, determined faces surrounding him. The backyard bore fresh scars  deeper divots, grass flattened in new patterns  but the real heat wasn’t in the ground.

It was in the air between the four of them.

The singular storm had not slowed.

It had simply gained three more flames that refused to stay on the sidelines any longer.

Caos (low voice, carrying the faintest edge of a smile):

Then burn brighter tomorrow.

All of you.

The grass can take it.

The bedroom… we’ll see who’s bold enough when the sun goes down again.

The three maids exchanged glances jealous, competitive, hungry  before looking back at him with new fire in their eyes.

The morning session ended not in exhaustion, but in promise.

To be continued…