Neiot

Read: What is Hatred? Read: The Seeds of Hatred: Part One Zohakuten’s “hero” complex directly complements Hantengu’s “victim” complex. Zohakuten believes himself the hero of his story, as reflected in his musical theme, an Old Norse (Viking) war chant reminiscent of Thor, the Nordic God of Thunder: Zohakuten’s Theme: Old Norse/Old Icelandic: Skjoldr brennr, hjarta dundr, Fjallrømr, stormr vaknr. Óðr skal gnista, blodr skal fljót, Sól skínn, men dømr er nær. English: The shield burns, the heart thunders, The mountain roars, the storm awakens. Fury shall spark, blood shall flow, The sun still shines, but doom is near. The lines in this musical theme is befitting his taiko motif: according to the famous Amaterasu myth, taiko drumming brought forth the sun and saved the world from darkness. Raijin is a revered God who brings about life-giving rains to save the farmers who pray to him from starvation through providing good harvests by striking his drums in the sky. Raijin and Thor

Read: What is Hatred? A man in his youth, drumming for satisfaction, without wealth to his name or courage to attain peace and prosperity. A boy, destined to become Hatred itself, who turned to faith and superstition in search of meaning. A lying hypocrite thief who steals not just material wealth, but power and authority, and keeps it all for himself. A lonely, destitute soul waiting for oblivion. Rise to the heavens like clouds, become the thunder, and don the false trappings of divinity to become a God in golden finery. A God to become ungovernable and devour all those who dare trample upon the weak things he calls his own. “Fiends who torment the weak; unpleasant, extremely unpleasant. You awful villains...” This is a narrative about how the seeds of hatred are sewn and how even the most unassuming among us can become the most lethal hypocrites. This is not a romantical piece, nor is it truly a cautionary tale. No, it is simply a passion piece meant to show my deep appreciation

What is hatred? You might ask anyone, what is hatred? Some say it is an infection, a vicious, contagious disease that eats away at you little by little, or a black sludge that sticks to your bones like tar. Some say it is a force of nature, an unstoppable rending force which tears apart all it dares to hold. And some say it is the root of all evil, an evil which all humans are susceptible. Dare I ask what, then, is evil? What does it mean to be... evil? Such things are social constructs which vary culture to culture. What one does on one side of the planet may be deeply disturbing to the other. But is it so simple? What is hatred really? Could you answer that question? Do you know what hatred really is, or do you lie to yourself? Why do you lie? Do you lie to get what you want? What is it that you want? What do you really need? What does your hatred protect? What has hatred given you? What has your hatred taken away? Every answer to these questions is going to be a little bit

Bojuren Ghredan in en naine, Miskervish vlagan Ghredan in er belliom, spianner avalgen Falen nenden so de vhani, onner jik krag so de kigun En byoire venak burgen jik grukar, en raith rhubethou mit greden Yall vhaza tipengin uise nio, kethar janden wurr euyos En vigge vhani dolae, thegessar mit ghredan English Hubris is a venom, shredding inward Hubris is an attack, rending forward Wilting florals in the heart, turning to stone in the gut A maw open wide to sup, a sun eclipsed by hatred Raw power serving mankind, wealth taken without mercy A dying heart destitute, impoverished by hubris

My name…? My name is Konkuro Maruki. How did I get to this point, you may be wondering… ah… I don’t know anymore. It is complicated. When I look back, when I remember, I recall a village in the shadow of a grand mountain. The mountain? Mount Iwaki. It was the place on which I had felt the most centered, the most grounded. One day… ...my mountain erupted. With great force, the ground beneath my own feet had upended. I was twisted, turned around, thrown, and taken along by the land as it fell. The day had turned to night. I could not see where I was going to end up. All I knew, I was going somewhere, and it wasn’t anywhere I wanted to be. It was only until the world stopped spinning that I had come to find out, I was alive. Breathing. Barely, but I knew I had not died, because the dead do not feel the sharp, stinging pain of pure sulfur. Sulfur existed only at the top. Now it is at the bottom, with me, in the boiling mud into which I had tripped. I knew then that the mountain

The Lava Pillar, Konkuro Maruki Lava Breather Pillar Opinions How Maruki views Tomioka Giyuu, the Water Pillar "I respect him. I feel that he and I know how to be patient when it suits us. His calm does not spell indifference. He does care about people, perhaps too much." How Giyuu views Maruki "She understands what silence is, and I appreciate that we can share it. I respect her." How Maruki views Kochou Shinobu, the Insect Pillar "She is like a sister to me. For a time, she cared for me as one and she vouched for me in the beginning. But now, I have lost sight of what is in her heart. Maybe I was never meant to see." How Shinobu views Maruki "She may not realize it, but she intimidates the younger slayers. She bottles her emotions up too much. If she isn’t careful to relieve the pressure, she will surely erupt." How Maruki views Rengoku Kyojurou, the Flame Pillar "Infectious energy. Indomitable spirit. I did look up to him." How Rengoku views Maruki "A volcanic force! A

Once upon a time, a rickety elder lived among the trees on the edge of his village. He rambled in the day, he rambled in the night, he rambled in the morning, he rambled in the evening. He was poor and frail, scraping the bottoms of barrels wherever he could to get the last of the day’s scraps. He was sad, jealous, and always wanted more out of life. Crows would croak at him each and every day while he cut and collected wood for his hearth. Oh, he did not like the crows. They mocked him. They mocked his weaselly voice, mocked his ugly face, mocked his old bones, and worst of all, they mocked his tumor. He did not like those crows. One fateful evening, after cutting and collecting wood for his hearth, the elder grew weary. There was a flash in the trees. Over the distant mountains, thunder came rolling. It would rain soon. Abash! Abash! He hobbled to a hollow in a great tree and huddled there. Torrents of rain washed away the dust of the day. Bright flashes of lightning, bright as

Bojuren So de raithkis mhae Ok seil jik vai So de neiava siur Ok erum na vai Sisht Katha Krag Siura Aein Nin Neibt Zhoghr Ori Medir Nomue Gishmi Akron Shurra Ghona Vhonn Vei ara thoir sun Vei ara thoir sho apeyt Rhyasa in malla miern Rhyasa khet hailt sun English In the sunlit sky I call to thee In the midnight air I plead for thee Mist Flame Stone Wind Life Day Night Death Spring Summer Autumn Winter Body Mind Beast Soul You will hear me You will hear my prayer Rhyasa is always there Rhyasa must answer me

Bojuren Vhang de zhunan to en neibt komzer min rae yat vihara Vhang de zhunan na vhe relfet vhar uise vhazan na nherneibt Zhunan to asne, vhe vhang na vai Zhunan to aevhaeln, vhe vhang na vai Zhunan to aein yat zhoghr, ok vhang na vai Zhunan to kelacao, ya vhang na sun Sisht Katha Krag Siura Aein Nin Neibt Zhoghr Ori Medir Nomue Gishmi Akron Shurra Ghona Vhonn Shar ven de zhu to bizon khranan shava English Sing the Runes of a night filled with hope and despair Sing the Runes for we might use our powers for goodnight Runes of nature, we sing for thee Runes of cosmos, we sing for thee Runes of life and death, I sing for thee Runes of Kelacao, you sing for me Mist Flame Stone Wind Life Day Night Death Spring Summer Autumn Winter Body Mind Beast Soul These are the Runes of ancient legends past

Bojuren Kelacao seile vhas So khelaran to fhal Kelakaonen vavhan Khallan akanun Odilia ta tavi Rham amena mou bhurgen Keishta nteltoman Vor vhe miksiao Kelacao uise vhaern Sul arrin jik khe Thrun zhomeln jik zin rhondan Uise nhichton Medyga ta garaeia alivia Anganst yat nir Zhomel siuran hallar Ghon de kumain Nomuen ta varth vhani Tshaka ken neibt En arri to wahhanan Kaivrer thrun de riath Gishmia ta mou zir Zinti rhondan yat Zee siuran uouw Bizon seil English Kelacao calls us In tales of old Adventurers' echoes Stories unfold Odilia's beauty Green lands so wide Earthlike paradise Where we reside Kelacao our world Four realms to see From deserts to ice peaks Our legacy Medyga's vast plains Endless and dry Desert winds whisper Under the sky Nomuen's dark heart Tremors at night A realm of shadows Hides from the light Gishmia so cold Icy peaks tall Frozen winds howl Ancients call