Robin had wanted to join him.
He asked her to wait, telling her, and it was the truth, that he wanted to get a sense of the field first before either of them stepped foot onto its rock, because there was something about the field there that was different from Skypiea’s, and that difference had a quality he wished to absorb slowly.
The first impression of Upper Yard, seen from Angel Island, was one of a fragment of another country dropped down into the cloud sea.
It was massive, floating jungle, older and larger than the rest of the country, and its chakra was heavy and resonated with ancient power.
The trees there were not trees he recognized, and the stone beneath their bark was foreign to his touch, too.
This field pressed closer than the field on Angel Island; it was denser, somehow, like the sea-level field of his other life, and carried an electrifying, metallic flavor that tightened the orbs’ rotation around his shoulders.
He walked the path of sky-shells, laid down many generations ago by Skypieans for the use of priests.
He was not a priest, but he got along well enough.
Enel waited at the entrance to the inner ruins.
He descended to meet Kael from the air in graceful ease of a man who was accustomed to descending.
He was tall and bare-chested, with the kind of heavy earrings that marked the wearer as a person who had settled on an image for himself a long time ago.
The man’s body glowed with residual charge, and his eyes were yellow.
He descended to land on the path of sky shells about twenty paces away from Kael.
He did not say anything immediately.
Instead, standing in silence with his hands at his sides, in his own way, he did what Kael was doing; he observed, listened, and analyzed.
Then he frowned.
It lasted only a second; it was the frown of a man whose senses had found an unexpected element they couldn’t identify.
“You are interesting.”
“Mm-hm.”
“My Mantra didn’t adhere to you.
I’ve never experienced that before—not even once in my entire tenure as the god of this island.”
“I’m not from this country.”
“Neither is anybody else I know anything about.”
Enel walked a few steps closer to Kael.
He was casual about it, but he did nothing that suggested he was planning to attack; his behavior was closer to a curious cat approaching an item left on a table.
His Mantra tried reaching for Kael in passes, but each one failed.
And it seemed to irritate the god; Kael could feel those little flickers of emotion, and Enel tamped them down instantly.
“What are you?
Specifically.
I’ve read everyone in this country, but I’ve never met anybody like you.” New chapters come out on g.com first.
“I am a man.”
“That’s not very helpful.”
“The honest answer is more accurate than the unhelpful one.”
“What makes you so difficult to analyze with my Mantra?”
This question needed some careful answering, so Kael thought about his response.
He decided, however, that the most useful thing would be a full explanation, instead of a partial one.
“My intentions aren’t loud enough for you to read them with your Mantra; they’re also complex enough that they don’t make themselves into language even if they were loud enough.
I’ve got a Mantra of my own, but I’d call it something different.
My layer listens to your layer and vice versa, but I listen to yours at the frequencies my senses allow, and you listen to mine at the frequencies yours can recognize.”
Enel took this information.
His facial expression briefly betrayed his surprise and embarrassment—the reaction of a confident man who learns something that challenges him in the very aspect of himself he takes pride in.
Enel, however, knew how to conceal such a reaction; not everybody would notice the brief shift in his expression, but Kael paid close attention and did nothing to hide the fact, because this moment required tact.
Kael decided not to show him anything just yet.
“You’re saying you can hear me.”
“I started hearing you in Pagaya’s house the day you discovered our presence.
I knew you would come looking for me.
Now you have.”
Enel laughed.
It was a god’s laugh, the laugh of a man who decided, decades ago, that gods may laugh when amused, and practiced laughing this particular way since then.
There was not much humor in it.
“I have come here because you entered my country, and my Upper Yard, without permission.”
“I’m here to read the stone.”
“What stone?”
“The old stone, the one your priests hide from you, and your people built before you showed up here, and that remained here after.”
Enel’s laughter ended suddenly.
His face fell motionless.
For a split second, Kael and Enel stood still in complete silence, and the conversation changed from one of exchange into one of turning point.
And Enel decided.
“The stone belongs to me.
Like all the rest of my country.”
“The stone is the stone—it existed before your country was, and it will exist after your country disappears, so you may call it yours if you wish.
But that doesn’t change the nature of the stone.
I’m reading the stone.
This is not a request.”
And lightning flashed—a house-size bolt, thrown by the god from his hand.
Kael expected that; on Skypiea, it was the strongest force available.
He caught it.
Without moving his body, Kael shifted one of his orbs, and the orb intercepted the bolt just two feet away from Kael’s shoulder, absorbing its unique signature and ceasing to exist, though the visible part of the bolt continued flying another foot forward, and disappeared into the ambient chakra field.
After this demonstration, Kael moved his right hand, producing his own Lightning Release, tuned to exactly match Enel’s bolt, and throwing it back in a controlled discharge, making it strike not Enel, but a stone outcrop a hundred yards behind the god.
The stone broke cleanly.
Enel did not move during this little demonstration; he didn’t have time for it.
He did not say anything either; the exchange required all his concentration.
Kael let his hand return to where it came from.
“This was a demonstration, and a courtesy.
Your lightning is not the strongest single force on this island—it hasn’t been the strongest since I arrived here.
We may talk again another time after you have some time to think.
Today, I’m reading the stone and leaving Upper Yard.
Stay out of my way.”
He began walking past Enel at the same slow pace he used when he came in.
He did not look back; he felt Enel’s chakra following him in the frozen shock of a man who just had something he held for a long time stripped off of him.
Enel did not follow Kael.
He entered the inner ruins.
The ruins opened their doors to him; the ancient stone received him, and opened its chakra to his hands.
He read.