Chapter 22

John's mind was not in that but at that moment. His head wandered towards a lot of things when he glanced at Shloch's weak self.

"Why am I here?" John asked himself, " Am I a hunter hunting for kicks? Or am I different?" As he wondered it reminded him of his father's words. "What do you want to be, kid. I know in my heart that you are not like your brother, who has everything set in life. Chose your destination and I will do my best to support you." John was not sure but he wanted to be acknowledged by a lot of people including his father.

"I....can...help you," Shloch said to John in his deathbed. In return, John chuckled.

"What can you offer? You are too old to be of any use to even your children." John mocked at him and glanced at the poorly assembled room.

"What do.....know....about yourself? Why are you here? What do you really seek?" Shloch's voice started improving. Months of keeping his mouth closed, he needed time to find the words. He wiped the saliva from his mouth in a small piece of cloth in the bed. John thought about the man's question. What does he really know about him? It all started just a week ago.

John had just finished high school and was awaiting his score. Unlike his brother, he could never score enough to get a degree in medicine.

"How much do you expect, son," John's father asked him a week before he started his expedition. It's was an expected question and John had a pre-decided answer.

"Good enough I guess. I want to become the next orama!" John's father was not surprised. Scrooge, his brother had no oraman blood like him and couldn't learn the mystic arts. Their mother who was a half-oraman like him thaught John the mystic arts of tongue while his brother Scrooge concentrated in his schooling.

"Hmm. Son, you have no idea how hard this job is. It is dirtier than what you have in your mind." Roger started his lengthy message but this time John was not ready to be ignored of his visions. The visions he had for his life. From a young age, he had heard tales about his grandfather's adventurous oraman life from his mother. Roger had permitted their little entertainment ignoring the fact that it could deeply inspire his son to become an orama to. He never wanted his sons to lead the same dirty life as him.

"I don't care about the dirt. I want to be a warrior like grandfather." John was not ready to accept his father's advice.

"You have never seen your grandfather. He died of insanity and I don't want you to die of it too." Roger's words were a bit harsher than he expected them to come out.

"I.....I don't care. Its my life and so my decision." John said the words in red fury and got out of the house without another word to get some air.

It took John a lot of time to cool down. When he returned home, Roger was waiting for him with John's mother in their hall. On seeing John enter the hall Roger went inside his room letting John's mother do the talking.

"So, you want to become a orama? I am not surprised. But son, I have only taught you the mystic arts of tongue. That too you are not fully capable of utilizing. You need a seal to hold on to the power. What are you going to do?"

"I.." John's words were cut off by his mother surprisingly.

"Never mind. It's getting late. You must be starving since you skipped lunch." She seemed concerned but her expression changed when she heard what John had to say.

"I had lunch at Josh's house." John's reply had a sudden impact on her expression. It turned from concern to rage.

"Then why do you think I cooked lunch? To throw to the dogs? I don't care whether you are hungry or not. It's getting dark so you better take your lunch as your dinner." On hearing his mother John was astonished. He couldn't argue with his mother.

"but..."

"No buts!" She caught him by his ears and dragged him to the dining room. She let him off so he could wash his hands and guided him to a seat in the table in a hostile manner. It was not yet 7 and John was not hungry at all.

"It's healthy to finish one's dinner before 7. It takes four hours for digestion and it has to be digested before you go to sleep." No one can stop her once she starts to talk about healthy food style. Joh ate in silence while his mother continued her lecture. Suddenly she changed the topic.

"John, I have told you lots of stories about your grandfather's adventures as an orama. But there are things that I didn't tell you." Her expression changed.

"What kind of things?" John asked with a tinge of curiosity.

"Your grandfather as you know had built an organisation during the second war. It was based near the war zone so that they could guide the war away from the gates of Hell." John looked at his mother with a baffled look.

"Gates of Hell?"

"When there is a massive amount of deaths the portal for the dead to get to hell appear bigger. But that's not the issue. The portal can only be used by the dead. But if something goes wrong the portal could suck in the souls of the living soldiers. Your grandfather's duty was to stop that from happening. This happened when your father was still young. My father was also an active member of the organization. He was a wizard. A half oraman. And through him, I have some oraman blood in me too. Roger and I were left behind in our houses when our fathers left for the war. But in the end, only my fathers returned. At least with his sanity. Roger's father lost his mind in the battlefield. One of his comrades had turned against their motive. Your grandfather had to choose between the lives of the stranger who were fighting a useless war and the life of his comrade who was fighting against the war itself." John's mother stopped for a minute as old memories rushed into her flooding her with tons of emotions.

"What did he choose?" John asked in a mild voice.

"He chose the life of the men who were fighting the useless war and killed his own comrade. During the fight, he went became a katochi provoking insanity." John listened in silence. He knew about the famous katochi. A mystic art used and known only to a very few oramans and mages. In Katochi, the body of the user gets detached from its soul and walks the earth with nothing but pure power. Its a form in which, many easily lose their senses. Very few have mastered it to control it's powers while still holding on to their soul.

"My father took him home. Roger was devastated. But he accepted his destiny and become an orama even though he hated the job. He wanted to make sure that nothing like what happened to his father should ever happen to anyone else. But here we are. His own son wants to take that path towards death and insanity." She became silent and let him eat in peace. After he finished eating he went to his room to think about what to do. And what he thought that might lead him to that situation that he was facing right then.