Heaven is Other Roko INA part 6 by RickGriffin, literature
Literature
Heaven is Other Roko INA part 6
Shari opened his eyes and saw, besides the glare of the sun as it came up over the trees, a dark shadow that turned into the face of a kangaroo.
He sat up, and the kangaroo turned away, disinterested. Shari glaned around and wondered why he was under a tree in the middle of an open field away from the main road.
He had to urinate again, and did so in the field. His head ached like a vise being pressed around it--a hangover. He emptied his entire waterskin into his mouth before feeling able to walk just a little, despite all the sores in his feet, legs and back. It was around that time as he leaned on a tree to stop the pounding in his head
Heaven is Other Roko INA part 5 by RickGriffin, literature
Literature
Heaven is Other Roko INA part 5
Glancing back and seeing nobody, Shari left the residence hall. Compared to the air in the baths, the outdoor air was refreshing. For extra relief, he dunked his head into the large central fountain that laid between the four buildings. The cold shock only half-rejuvenated his mind, doing little to push out the drunkenness, but it was enough to clear away the tears.
The sun was down, and the stars hung in the sky, but the night was still far too young to see the sun's shadow, the black moon that moved always opposite. Reaffixing his glasses and the cloak, Shari sat on the fountain wall, still fuming. He was perfectly aware he was drunk, but
Heaven is Other Roko INA part 3 by RickGriffin, literature
Literature
Heaven is Other Roko INA part 3
The master instructed Shari to dress for the occasion, and so he did, with the best piece of clothing he could scrounge up but which still fit his small frame. It was a cloak that folded into a robe, dyed solid black. It did not have true sleeves; rather the fabric was folded under the sash in order to give the appearance of sleeves. Besides it, he only wore a fresh shenti, because even the night was hot and he wasn't the sort of idiot who would overdress, even for an important occasion.
They walked through the main dining hall, which rang with all the noise and smells that generally accompanied dinner. The hall, filled with a rich warm glow
Heaven is Other Roko INA part 4 by RickGriffin, literature
Literature
Heaven is Other Roko INA part 4
"I've written . . . most of a book," Shari said, his words slurring. He wasn't very drunk, but still more inebriated than he'd ever been before. "Based on my research into the Principle War. I wanted to do the same as this ancient book I read, that diagrammed the motion of the armies over the continent--oh, but I'm not terribly good at keeping my lines . . ."
Shari lifted his head, half-seeing the room around him for the first time. He pulled together the pieces--the towel racks, the wood benches, the warm humidity, the soapy odor, and several dozen other roko walking out of the dressing rooms wearing no clothing. When had they gone down to
Heaven is Other Roko INA part 2 by RickGriffin, literature
Literature
Heaven is Other Roko INA part 2
The chalk ticked repeatedly as the master wrote on the board. The master, a heavyset brok, was quite old, though not to say feeble. He was a hundred and ten still fit compared, even compared to some of the young students who were just now growing out of their teens, and had grown up on a sedentary lifestyle. Even the room was mostly spared from the summer heat, though the magic was only temporary and the number of warm bodies pushed that temperature back up.
"You have to forget all you know about distribution and logistics," he said, "what we reserve for a national scale, they imparted to every individual in every culture, save for the occas
Heaven is Other Roko INA part 1 by RickGriffin, literature
Literature
Heaven is Other Roko INA part 1
A roko's life does not belong to himself; it has and always will belong to all roko. For this reason, on behalf of the Upper Court and the nation of New Haven, you are hereby branded with the white cross, which shall not be erased until you turn thirty years of age.
Sharikola swung the sword in a wide overhead arc. The runes painted on the wall appeared to burn in his vision as he threw his concentration onto them. The whole room shook with a fervent, percussive force that rattled the crates and the stones in the chamber wall.
Shari did not forget what had been taken from him. Shari did not forgive, despite what the nation decreed.
With a