Let the Earth Tremble (The Sons of Thunder, Book 2)

By J.J Sylvester

Whilst travelling, Johannan goes into a trance and sees a vision of a yellow forest. There was a body covered in gingko leaves on the ground, and he hears a voice speak to him from the heavens, “Break and rebuild!”
But what does it mean?
The Great One has descended to earth, from the heavenly kingdom of the Irdis to investigate a putrid scent that has come before his throne.
In his irritation, he almost destroyed the earth, but decided that he will further investigate the reason for the scent.
A little peasant girl befriends a mysterious sullen, unfriendly old man that sits all day and night under a paulownia tree in her village.
The old man, however, is not who he appears to be, and her journey towards greatness and enlightenment begins.
These three threads of fate must be woven together to form a cord of destiny that will decide the fate of Asia.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J.J Sylvester
• Release date: Jul 24, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370946709

Book preview

Prologue

225 BC

ATLANTIS

On that terrible day, the visitors of the city saw a man, a man like no other. No king on earth was adorned in such splendour. His skin had a soft glow as if its defining lines were smudged with white chalk. He was visiting one of the temples. As he ascended the stairway, the gleaming ends of his cloak waved, simulating the movement of a pendulum. His hair was sky blue and extended past the arch of his back. The penetrating sunlight in between its strands made his hair appear like glints on burnished silver.

Sagara! echoed a clean, regal voice, resounding through in the sanctuary.

A gravelly tone resonated from within the muscular sculpture of the god Poseidon.

My lord Teki. Have you come to observe the labour of my hands? The tillers have called it the Great City of the Gods. They call it Atlantis.

The rings of Teki’s pupils ignited as he slashed the air with a swing of his hand. Enough! This great city is about to fall. I have come to station you to a land in the East.

There was a guttural grumble from the crafted image, the sound of fine dust being pressed and scraped against the smooth floor. A stumble upon words as shock gripped its bearer.

Atlantis… Destroyed? But how?

Teki raised his voice, speaking with haste, Who is strong enough to oppose the gods?

A fine white powder fell to the floor as a hairline fracture ripped down the face of the statue.

Impossible! The Great One? H-he is here… in Atlantis?

Teki clawed his hand in frustration. A wave of energy flowed down his body, and his hair began to illuminate.

He has been seen walking the lands of the mortals, not far from here. It will not be long. Summon the other gods at once and depart!

Another crack formed at the wheel of the statue’s chariot and crept up to join the one on the face.

I cannot fathom why the Great One would visit the lands of the earth. Why would he come to Atlantis? It has taken my worshippers years to build this city.

Teki clenched his fists, and the skin on his nose wrinkled as his upper lip lifted to display his radiant white teeth.

You have been counselled against drawing his attention by the other lords. The people here have initiated too many wars, and, so, you have slanted the scales of justice.

But even that does not warrant a visit from him, said Sagara.

Either way, if you all are here when he arrives, you are aware of what will happen.

The Great One is not a man that he should take a stroll. Something is misplaced. We must find out what the purpose is for his visit, or he could just appear anywhere in the world and abolish all our kingdoms. What of Olympus?

We will find out, but for now, go to the East. There is a vast land there, and it is revealed in the Everplanes that the tillers are destined to become a great nation. I will visit the temple and take the Warden of Atlantis, so that you may subdue your new land with famine.

A spinning wheel of fire materialised above Teki’s head. An aura of smoke started to hover from the sculpture.

Y-your crown has manifested.

Teki scowled at his hands. The Crown of the Origins was an uncontrollable part of his being that always appeared when the Great One was nearby.

He is already here! said Teki, lifting the tone of his voice. Make haste!

A ferocious wind interrupted them, forcing itself upon the land, and the din of screaming people followed almost instantly. Teki wasted no more time and departed for the temple.

On that day, there were reports from mortal eyewitnesses on the outskirts of the city. They said that the man of splendour crowned with fire journeyed into the Great Temple of the Guardian and acquired the precious jewel of Atlantis.

The animals in the city could sense something that no man or woman could detect. It was instinct. An undetectable happening triggered them, and the beasts stampeded out of the city into the surrounding hills. The men and women who were wise enough to escape only did so by following.

They said the statues of Atlantis crumbled and came to life that day. The skins of rock cracked and shelled like thin walls of struck slate. Colossal glowing men broke free from their images and disintegrated into the atmosphere.

The priests of the temples shouted to the people, We are doomed, even the gods are fleeing!

The skies were almost as orange as liquefied rock, and cinders swirled up into the receiving firmament. A dense heat was rising from the ground, and Atlantis became hidden within a mirage.

To the west, three shrouded men walking in flawless triangular formation approached the gates and nonchalantly sauntered through the commotion into the city’s centre. They were no taller than six feet. They stood in the centre of the city in all its terror and removed their shrouds, revealing the faces of young men, mid-thirties, with immaculate skin and blank expressions. Their long frost-white hair whipped, exposing the presence and strength of the wind.

The man to the left was well built and had golden eyes that burned like a trail of shooting stars. His extensive sideburns dropped to the inner part of his shoulders. His skin was as fair as ivory, and he had features that resembled the peoples of Europe. The man in the middle had a slim physique with strong Asian features. His eyes were green like emeralds, and the glints on its surface moved as though the winds of the earth were bound within them. The third man had blue-violet eyes, which moved like the great oceans of the world, and his skin was more of a walnut brown and resembled people in the land of Africa. All their skins suddenly ignited into an animated shimmer.

Atlantis! the man with the green eyes spoke. His mouth barely parted, but his penetrating voice surrounded the city and subdued the wind. The atmosphere calmed, and the people paused to listen to them. What is this thing that you have done?

The golden-eyed figure lifted his head and said in a raucous tone, I have surveyed the earth and have found no land that offends me more than Atlantis!

The third man stepped forward. His strident tone was different but just as frightening. Why does justice call to me from the wilderness and the blood of the lands testify against you? Why does the heavens accuse you of misdeeds?

The people were bewildered; these men looked and spoke strangely.

The city was unaware of what was taking place, who these men were, or what they had come for.

For this thing, I will wipe you off the earth, and it will be as if you have never been, thundered all three men at once.

The man with the emerald eyes blew into the air, and a typhoon spun from the breath that escaped his lips. The man with eyes of gold stared into the sky and beckoned the stars to fall to the earth. Not long after, a small spark twinkled and shattered across the ether as an army of comets followed to breach the land. Boulders of celestial fire reduced the temples and the homes to ashes and rubble. The third fell to one knee using the sides of his hand to part the dust on the ground before him. The land quivered and ripped far apart. The blackened fissures gurgled as the waters of the deep climbed to fill the cracks. The man scowled at the waters and tall geysers. Like the pointed fingers of accusation, the geysers randomly burst from the grounds and thrusted against the sky. With a gesture of his hand, he beckoned the waters, and they began to swallow the terrain.

The land tilted, and the people shouted words of distress. Across the land, legs were spread wide apart as the people endeavoured to balance themselves, but the land continued to shift here and there, and they fell to the ground.

By sundown, the land of Atlantis was no more, just a wide ocean of beating waves that reflected the celestial majesty of the shimmering aurora. Surrounding nations far away witnessed the diadem of destruction above the waters of where Atlantis once was.

Part I

Chapter 1

Jeemah, the King of War

A wandering soul was travelling the terrains of Asia to and thro like the Soburin in the heavens above, afflicted for three years with an unfulfilled promise and a boundless burden of sorrow. Such pain was the price to behold the secrets of the earth and hear the wonders of all living things.

Johannan finally reached the foot of the mountain. The firmaments bowed as a white shroud of heavenly vapours descended to welcome the man that walked with the Soburin. He glanced at the sky and saw the same birds surfing the winds, the same ones that had followed him across the lands of Tibet and the Gobi years ago.

He travelled for weeks. The crunching and hissing of walking through tall grass were sounds he had grown so accustomed to, it was no different than being silent. But he noticed the noise had ceased after some time; the ambient quietness had become lifeless. Johannan stopped and glanced about. The scenery hinted a small change. His chest lifted as he inhaled in recognition. This is a trance!

Trances could happen at any time, and they did. They occurred when his spirit had awakened from its long slumber, and like just now, they’d often creep up on Johannan without him knowing. During this period, his body would pause for short moments that, in experience, felt like hours. The awakened spirit would seize control of his soul, and his body, losing its connection, would freeze. His spiritual body didn’t stay in command for long. It was just long enough for him to perceive events that his mortal body could not, then it would release its grip on his soul to return consciousness to his frame.

He turned back to see an apparition of a forest filled with ginkgo trees. The ground was concealed under a coating of leaves, which exhibited a palette of fern greens that faded to buttery yellows. The scenery was enchanting, but, on closer observation, he noticed something troubling. There appeared to be a body laying lifeless under the leaves. He couldn’t see who it was.

Master, what are you showing me?

A voice spoke into the scenery, Break and rebuild!

Visions were strange most times. They were a phenomenon that occurred often in Johannan’s travels. Some took months, even years, to come to pass, and others were almost instant, but not all trances were of a predicting nature. Some were words of wisdom, which often were displayed in riddles. On some occasions, Johannan would see a person, a place, or an event, and only when he clicked in that moment in time, he knew what to do and what the vision meant. So, he decided to make a mental note of this one, just like the many others he noted that hadn’t come to pass yet.

The scenery disappeared as he returned to his mortal senses. The ambient din of the wilderness returned, but he noticed a sound. Sure, at this moment in time, he was a witness to many sounds, but they were the sounds he heard all the time, and this sounded much different. The noise came from above him, and he lifted his chin to see a man’s legs and arms dangling from one of the tree’s branches. He was snoring away in a bottomless slumber. He doesn’t seem to be bothered about falling.

And, in the middle of the day, Johannan muttered to himself as a response to his thoughts. During his extended travels, Johannan had developed a habit of becoming lost in thought, and he often reasoned with himself—sometimes he’d even respond to his thoughts aloud.

He proceeded to walk, but his curiosity caused him to stop once more. Who is he? Can he be…? He shook his head, Just keep going, he’s just a traveller, he said in his low, reflective tone.

He took another few paces past the tree and paused. I can’t sense anything unnatural, no changes in the air, and the man’s still asleep.

Nothing, but a tired man, he concluded. He released his breath and shielded his eyes to survey the scenery. The snoring stopped. A twig snapped multiple times as he gingerly placed his last step. His shoulders jumped to his ears. Johannan gritted his teeth and narrowed his focus at the ground.

Son of Nepal!

Argh! said Johannan, gently slapping his forehead. I knew it! Still, after all this time, I should have known.

It is a long journey from here to the Kweilin. You will come across a village on your travels. It will appear abandoned, but it is not. Rest there, and I will come to you.

Johannan whirled around to look at the man, but he had already disappeared. His arms fell limp to his sides in defeat. This was a common event in his travels, and, though never successful, he found some sort of entertainment in his endeavour to catch the spirits. It was similar to the feeling you get when someone pulls a face behind you, but when you whisk to catch them in the act, you are quickly disappointed with a pleasant smile and a wave.

Johannan trekked across the lands of Tibet for weeks. One night, he kept walking until he stumbled upon a rural village in a forest. The place appeared abandoned. The buildings were shoddy, and the lack of building materials was evident. Rest there, I will come to you. The words echoed in his spirit as if his soul was trying to remind him. He chose not to enter the shelters but rest out in the open. The village was shadowy, and the tall trees waved in the night gale, which occasionally speckled the flooring with rays of moonlight. He ate some of the apricots he carried and some leftover bread that Aneo had given to him. He loved Aneo’s cooking for the way it reminded him of home. As he took the first bite and began chewing, something dawned on him. Aneo is a spirit. A spirit that enjoys cooking. How strange. Is that what he’s doing in his spare time? Cooking?

Johannan laughed as he laid on his back and lost himself to thoughts. Half an hour passed, and he detected a faint glow from the corners of his eyes. The air above him was distorted from heat. He skimmed his surroundings and noticed weaving trails of floating fiery gold dust. They assembled to form the outlines of two furious eyes, not yet fully materialised. A warm surge of blood rushed to his head and caused his body to jitter.

Johannan vaulted to his feet and shouted, Jeemah!

He circled and saw the petrified faces of village folk holding weapons that were in fact tools for work in the field. Most of them were old, and he noticed the small figures of children hidden within the shrubs. It appeared as though the people were attempting to sneak up on him and catch him off guard.

No wonder, he said in a sigh of relief. Please put your weapons down!

But the people refused to listen. There were too many things to think of, not enough options, and no time to make a decent choice.

These stubborn people are going to die if they do not listen. Why would the Master send me here? Why does he insist on making my life that much harder?

Johannan didn’t want to shout and appear aggressive, so he attempted to ask again in a softer tone, which only succeeded in exposing his strain.

I-I mean you no harm, I am just a traveller, only passing through. He got up and pointed at the fiery eyes. Your attempt to take my life has triggered the Guardian’s attention. Please, I implore you, lay down your weapons before he comes, or you will all perish.

The gentleness in his voice had disarmed some of them, resulting in a handful of the people dropping their weapons. But it still seemed like there was no way out for Johannan, not without them getting sentenced to death. He glanced at the fiery manifestation.

Please, you are still safe! Drop your weapons and he will depart. Please do it for the sake of the children, he said clasping and falling to his knees. I don’t want them to get hurt. You cannot win, it is impossible.

The sounds of falling metal and rocks were almost instant.

Good… good, said Johannan.

W-who’re you? inquired one of the elderly women as she drew closer.

Johannan held his hands out.

Just a traveller. Nothing else. I just came here to rest for the night. I will be gone soon.

Beads of water formed on their skins as the hot air cooled almost instantly.

Johannan dropped to his knees. "Phew! He’s gone. That was very close. For a second, I thought you were all going to get it."

The strange dust—what was it? asked an old man.

It was beautiful, wasn’t it? said the elderly woman.

Johannan laughed nervously. That strange dust could have wiped this village out entirely.

That was a warrior spirit. He has been assigned to protect me from harm. He got up and exhaled a long sigh of relief. I’m so glad you all are safe. My thanks to you for listening.

The people spoke amongst themselves in a haze of whispers.

You don’t seem like one of them. Are you… one of them? asked the old woman.

They must be referring to villains.

I can assure you, I am no villain, he said.

Good! You can stay here with us. The young men have been taken to form the emperor’s army. With our young men gone, vicious men have been slaughtering us and abducting the women from all over the area, said an old man.