ã€ŠIn the Roughã€‹


 One: A History that Everyone Sort of Knew

    One:

    L¨¦andros Foster huddled in his worn coat outside of the only public-school building on the street level of Sector Seven. He was tucked in an out of the way corner and hidden safely away from the prying eyes of both staff and students. He couldn¡¯t actually afford to go there, as all education past the age of 10 was considered voluntary, and even though the sector was supposed to pay for all schooling up to the age of 16, well it was up to the discretion of each caseworker, and Christmas bonuses had to come from somewhere. However, this being a public school meant Leo wasn¡¯t technically trespassing, as the building was considered public property. But things like laws and justice had rarely stopped any of the enforcers before. So, the out of the way corner it was.

    The window to the year 12 classroom was cracked open, and the sound of the teacher¡¯s voice drifted faintly to his ears. He¡¯d found that if he strained hard enough, well, sometimes it felt like the sound wanted to reach him.

    He knew it seemed silly. A fanciful daydream at best, and foolish at worst, but he liked the thought that the knowledge wanted to reach him. It made him feel warm, accepted. He could handle being stupid sometimes if it meant he got to hold on to that feeling of warmth.

    He chided himself. No, not stupid, don¡¯t call yourself stupid, he repeated one of his mantras. He¡¯d read in a pre-Integration psychology book that negative self-talk could manifest into negative self-value, so he was working on curbing the habit. So, not stupid, but foolish? No. Childish? Not quite. Juvenile, then? Yes, perhaps just a little bit juvenile. Because if believing in impossible things made him stupid, then he supposed all cultivators must be stupid too. The thought made him smile, then stifle a laugh. Anyways, it made him feel better about eavesdropping on the lessons he hadn¡¯t paid for if he believed the knowledge was reaching back out to him the same way he so desperately sought it out.

    Today, the class was learning history. It was the history of the Cold War, the nuclear apocalypse, the resulting Rending of the Veil, and Earth¡¯s integration into the wider universe. It was a history that everyone sort of knew, but only in vague terms. The same way people knew about ¡®The Great Depression¡¯ or ¡®The Fall of Rome¡¯. Sure, everyone agreed they happened, and the results were observable, but the details were never really clear until you dove into the history books.

    On his lap Leo had his most prized possession. A large, heavy notebook with a clasp and a lock. It had hundreds of pages, and even though the leather was faded, worn, and battered away by the ravages of time, it was the best gift anyone had ever given him. For Leo, if a pen was his sword, the book was his shield, and the many scuffs and indents on its soft cover could attest to how literal that sentiment was for him.

    Holding the notebook open to an already half-filled page, Leo took careful, painfully small notes about the lecture. This way, he could save as much paper as possible. His pen scratched away in meticulous shorthand as he listened intently.

    ¡°¡­year 1956, one of the idiots from one of the pre-Integration nations who won the politics-pageant that elections used to be, and became a global leader, decided it would be an excellent idea to press the little red button. What had, until that point, been a tense but cold war, quickly became hot. Very, very hot,¡± a woman was saying. Ms. Goulding was Leo¡¯s favourite instructor. She made everything interesting, didn¡¯t take herself too seriously, and always stayed on topic, instead of straying off on meandering or self-aggrandizing tangents like many of the other instructors Leo had been subjected to.

    ¡°History classifies this period after the first nuclear missile was launched not as a war, but as a man-made, global calamity. The devastation was apocalyptic in both nature and in scale. This event ¨C later known as The Great Annihilation ¨C had consequences on a level that nobody at that time even had the language to predict. Not only did fire rain from the sky, not only did the oceans become the graves of billions, not only was the land awash in radiation, but the small pockets of surviving humanity began to descend into chaos. Instead of unifying, consolidating the little flora, fauna, and infrastructure that remained, instead of mobilizing and rebuilding-. What was left of what could generously be called ¡®civilization¡¯ at that point was mostly anarchy.

    ¡°Then came magic,¡± Ms. Goulding said, and the students erupted into conversation. Leo grinned. It was a distinctly Earth human word for the incredible powers displayed by cultivators, and practitioners from the greater universe. It was a word from fantasy, and history. It was a concept that was unique to Earthlings, or as the aliens called them ¡®Terrans¡¯, and was a term that the cultivators did not appreciate. It was controversial.

    Leo loved it. Magic. A fantastical, mystical concept that he¡¯d read so much about in the pre-integration books. Something that could do the impossible. Wave a hand and bring warmth to the cold. Illuminate the darkness with a single thought. With a breath and a gesture turn a barren patch of land into a primordial garden filled with fruit and herbs, birds and trees, flowers, and butterflies, and those chubby, fluffy bumblebees he used to spend hours watching through a small, dirty basement window. Magic, it was a word that meant possibility. Eventually the students settled down enough for the instructor to continue.

    ¡°Some call it mana, some qi, some ether, but regardless of what it¡¯s called, the moment the first tiny motes of magic seeped into the world from the freshly pierced barrier between Earth and what has now come to be known as ¡®the Veil¡¯, our world changed forever.

    ¡°The Great Annihilation; the same event that made the world so much smaller and so much deadlier, was also the catalyst for an incredible event that nobody could have foreseen. The chaos, the death, the unstable energies in the atmosphere; all of this together was necessary to create the perfect circumstances for the Veil to rend. The Rending of the Veil was the event that introduced magic to the mundane world by flooding the Earth with the energy from beyond the Veil. The place we refer to as simply ¡®the Beyond¡¯.

    ¡°Remember, mana didn¡¯t come all at once. Like an avalanche gaining momentum, after the first rend ¨C the Great Rend - many more tears in the Veil quickly opened. The breaches then expanded, and the world changed. The more mana, the more changes. What had once been burnt-out nuclear wastelands became verdant fields, or mystical deserts, or mana forests. It wasn¡¯t just the landscape that changed either. All life changed. From animals, to plants, to tides and weather patterns. The more mana in the environment, the more changes take place on the planet.¡±Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

    Leo hadn¡¯t realized the Earth was still undergoing changes. He supposed half a century and some change wasn¡¯t all that long for the world to have completed the transition from mundane planet to, well, whatever the end of the cultivation journey looked like for a spontaneously ignited celestial body. However, while Earth¡¯s ignition was a topic he¡¯d heavily researched, he had yet to stumble across the idea of ¡®World Cultivation¡¯ past the fact that Earth as it was now was known as an awakened world. Even with the meagre information available to an unignited ward of the state, surely something that important would have been mentioned somewhere. It made him incredibly curious about the process of planetary cultivation. He made a note in his book to look into newly ignited worlds when he had access to more information, or at least less restricted access to the same information. Tamping down his frustration at the roadblocks to his curiosity, Leo made a quick note in the margin of his notebook as he continued to listen in to the lecture.

    ¡°...here is where we come to the point of our lesson today, students. It wasn¡¯t just the flora, the fauna and the environment that changed; mana changed humanity too. When people became suffused with mana, it seeped into our skin, our organs, our bones. Mich like radiation, it worked its way into our bodies and transformed them. Mana channels were formed, mana cores were created, and humanity gained the potential to wield superhuman power, and to wield mana in ways that had previously been considered only the realm of myth and fantasy.

    ¡°Of course, none of those first survirors understood that. It wasn¡¯t until the emissaries from the Coalition¡¯s Council and the Institute came, almost a month after the Ignition, that everything was explained. With the introduction of mana, the greater universe became aware we existed. Though the Coalition¡¯s annexation of Earth, and our subsequent integration came some time later.¡±

    The teacher paused here. The sound of her gentle pacing that had been growing clearer and clearer to Leo¡¯s senses abruptly ceased. Leo tried to imagine why she¡¯d stopped. Tried to create the image of the classroom in his own head.

    He pictured what he thought she might look like. Maybe she was someone with pale pink skin, or tanned skin, or darker skin, like his own. He thought about her pacing, then pausing in the middle to turn and face her class. Dark, or light hair would swish or bob about her as she moved. Maybe she was wearing a smile. Perhaps she had kind eyes as she peered at the students. He supposed he would never really know. He¡¯d never jeopardize his listening spot just to confirm his ideas.

    So lost was he in his imagination that the sound of her voice almost startled him into making a noise. An incredibly foolish reflex that he thought had been beaten out of him years ago.

    ¡°So, students,¡± she asked. ¡°Why are we rehashing ancient history?¡± She stressed the word ancient with some amusement. Hyperbole? Leo theorized. Perhaps she was enjoying wordplay, though Leo had little experience with humor, and didn¡¯t know if she believed the 61 years since the ignition would count as ancient, since different people had different perceptions of time. He shook off the errant thought as something for later consideration. ¡°Anybody? Any ideas? Just call them out,¡± she implored the class.

    ¡°Ignition.¡± ¡°Ignition day!¡± ¡°Core ignition.¡± ¡°Ignition.¡± A jumble of voices mumbled, shouted, or promptly stated.

    ¡°Correct! For most of you, today is your ignition day. Glass stars all around!¡± She announced ike they were a year 1 class that still needed the manaforged baubles as incentives. Not that Leo had ever received one. ¡°The day the veil was pierced is also known as-¡±

    ¡°World Ignition,¡± Leo barely mouthed the words to himself.

    ¡°-World Ignition,¡± the teacher said, confirming Leo¡¯s thoughts. ¡°World ignition, much like core ignition in a person, is when what happens?¡± She asked the class.

    ¡°High levels of external mana saturation permeate a world¡¯s core causing it to ¡®ignite¡¯ and allowing it to manifest and interact with the leylines that are then spread throughout the world.¡± The nasal voice who began speaking was one that Leo had often heard answering many questions, in many different classes. ¡°This allows a world to ¡®cultivate¡¯ and to be able to produce its own mana. In World Ignition it is the world¡¯s core that begins to produce mana that is then channeled through the planet¡¯s leylines and into the environment. When people with ignited cores begin to cultivate it¡¯s their mana cores that collect, refine and produce more mana. It¡¯s also how people with ignited cores gain control over the process that allows cultivators to manipulate mana throughout the mana channels and veins.¡±

    ¡°Above and beyond, as always,¡± praised the teacher. This was all information Leo only kind of knew about. He knew about mana veins, about cores, and about world ignition. He just hadn¡¯t known the how of it all. Mana saturation, he thought. What an interesting concept. He scrawled it down in neat, tight calligraphy in his notebook and made another note to come back to it later. It seemed pretty important.

    A quiet beeping caught his attention, and he looked down to check the time on his innocuous, little, plastic watch. It was from the Single-Standard store, and was about the cheapest digital watch he could get that actually had a timer built in. It had cost him a lot of dignity, and a not insignificant amount of labour to buy, but it was one of the best ¨C if only ¨C purchases he¡¯d made in his young life, and he was proud of it.

    The alarm told him he needed to start packing up if he wanted to meet his caseworker at the meetup point on time. At the thought, a tingle passed over his left arm, and he sighed in resignation, absently scratching at it. He knew the scratching wouldn¡¯t actually do anything. But this had only been a tingle, not a throbbing or a burning, or heavens forbid a pulsing. Just a tingle. He¡¯d be alright, he just needed to be careful for the rest of the day. Deep breaths, stay controlled, pack up one item at a time. He¡¯d be fine, probably.

    ¡°Just be grateful you trained your right arm to be just as dominant as your left,¡± he mumbled under his breath. It had taken a lot of hard work, but three months with a bone fracture, and no access to a healer, or any medical care had forced him to prioritize learned ambidexterity. ¡°Needs must,¡± he muttered as the last of his items was placed gently in his bag.

    ¡°¡­ and good luck to all of you on your ignition day.¡± Leo caught the tail end of the lecture. He knew as well as the students in the class how important today was.

    It had taken a nuclear apocalypse, and the rending of the veil to flood the world with enough mana that the world ignited, but even then, there was never any guarantee. The world could have stayed dormant, like so many mundanes did. It could have simply flooded with mana that did nothing but spread and dissipate, leaving those few who were unlucky enough to ignite as powerless as they were before. No, complete saturation, even oversaturation was no guarantee that one had the spark. That one would ignite, and that even if they did, that they¡¯d survive the process of a mana baptism. The world could¡¯ve been a dud. A dreg world.

    He could end up a dreg.

    The thought felt fundamentally wrong. Like something in the world, or perhaps in himself instinctively rejected the very notion. Dreg. It felt like an expletive even just in Leo¡¯s mind. He would not allow himself to think like that. Not today. No. Today was the day that anybody between the ages of 16 ¨C 18 in Sector Seven could undergo core ignition, for free, at the Coalition Campus. Today Leo would either come out the other end as a cultivator, or he would remain mundane.

    Leo had made himself a promise a long time ago, one that he intended to keep. A promise that he would be more. Leo would not be mundane. His life depended on it.

 Two: A Phantom String in His Mind

    Two

    When Leo was maybe 10 or 11 years old, he¡¯d read a book about a little girl with extraordinary powers. Not the powers that permeated the world after the Rending, and not the powers that cultivators wielded using mana, but a different kind of power. True magic. The book had been written by a man who¡¯d survived the apocalypse and who¡¯d had memories of a time before the cultivators and the Coalition. A time when the people of Earth ruled their own world.

    In the book, the little girl¡¯s family did not like her. Her brother dismissed her, her father disdained her, and her mother neglected her. For the little girl¡¯s entire childhood, the only adults who had ever really taken care of her, or believed in her had been a kind librarian, and a teacher at a school her parents almost didn¡¯t send her to.

    Alone, abandoned by the people who were supposed to love her, and powerless to change her own fate, she manifested power that would allow her to protect herself. The little girl had developed magic. Her magic allowed her to defend herself against her powerlessness in the face of the self-proclaimed bigger, smarter, stronger authority figures who were eager to abuse their power over her. She was a bookish little girl, one who loved learning as growing and knowing. A child who the world seemed bent on keeping small, and ignorant, and helpless.

    Leo had identified so closely with the main character that he¡¯d often thought of the people in his life in relation to the characters in the book. The teacher, Ms. Goulding, who taught history at the local academy might¡¯ve been the librarian, the kids he lived with in the group home were like the little girl¡¯s awful sibling, and if he had to classify his caseworker, Ms. Belle, he¡¯d say she was the principal. Mean, large, and possessing such a pure disdain for children and young people of any caste that he couldn¡¯t understand why she¡¯d chosen the job she had. Good benefits, perhaps?

    Well, it didn¡¯t matter anymore, not really, Leo considered as he let his mind settle back into the present from his musings. Today was likely the last day he¡¯d see her.

    ¡°This is it,¡± said Ms. Bell pulling up to a curb about a kilometer or about 2/3 of a mile away from the entrance of the Coalition testing building. The building itself was located in the center of the sector.

    The campus was huge, and even though Leo had been at their meeting spot early Ms. Belle had come late. Really late. Leo had actually watched as the school bus with the academy student had pulled off and left for this very campus before her vehicle had even shown up.

    ¡°Ma¡¯am?¡± Leo asked. If she dropped him off here, he¡¯d almost definitely miss registration. He couldn¡¯t be late for registration, because at only 16 years old, he wouldn¡¯t be considered a legal adult unless he¡¯d undergone a mana baptism or was 18 years old. Adult or not, they had kicked him out of the care home today. That meant that he needed to make it to registration, because the alternative was not an option.

    The campus itself contained both the housing, and embassies for the Council, the Institute, and the various sects and clans, and those were just the facilities for the planet-side residents that had dealings in this sector of the North American Confederation. To get to the testing building, Leo would have to¡­ Well, he didn¡¯t even know. He didn¡¯t have phone, or a datapad, or even a fancy chip like most people even vaguely middle class or above did. He had a map, an actual paper map. It was enchanted, but only with the most basic runes for direction and position. It could tell him where he was, and which cardinal direction he was traveling in, but that was about it. It was undoubtably one of the most expensive things he owned, and even then, it was something he¡¯d been given for free in the package he¡¯d received from the Coalition when he¡¯d officially registered for ignition.

    Any other item of even moderate value had been taken from him by the workers at the home under the guise of donation resources, and recompensating the sector. Considering he was a ward of the sector, and that he never saw those small treasures again, he sincerely doubted the validity of their statements. He¡¯d never complained though, especially when some of the staff with more of a conscience made sure he¡¯d be given full portions for almost a month afterwards.

    However, a simple runic map, the sort any novice enchanter could make was not going to be enough to get him to the building on time. Not that Ms. Bell cared either way.

    ¡°This is as far as I¡¯m mandated to take you,¡± she said. She wasn¡¯t even looking at him, just idling the vehicle on the edge of the campus, her face half out the window as she smoked something. It was some herb variant from the wilds that was said to have mild psychoactive properties. Probably why she¡¯d been late, and why she didn¡¯t want to drive any closer, now that he thought about it, considering it was technically illegal to be behind the wheel with it in your system, even if the vehicles basically drove themselves. But that wasn¡¯t Leo¡¯s concern.

    ¡°Ma¡¯am,¡± Leo began, eyes straight ahead, and teeth gritted. ¡°I¡¯ll be late. If you could just drop me-¡±

    ¡°Not my problem,¡± she said, finally turning to him.

    ¡°If I don¡¯t make it to registration-¡±

    ¡°Are your ears broken, or are you just stupid? You¡¯re. Not. My. Fucking. Problem.¡± She enunciated each word, like Leo truly was slow and hadn¡¯t understood her the first time. ¡°Now, get the fuck out,¡± she turned back to the window. Leo breathed deeply. The woman was right about one thing, the moment they had crossed onto the campus, Leo was no longer under her power. She had no control over him anymore.

    ¡°Ma¡¯am,¡± Leo tried again, the tingle in his arm that had made itself known at the school flared up again.

    ¡°I said, get out!¡± She pressed a button, and the passenger seatbelt released as the door slid open. Accepting that he wouldn¡¯t convince her, Leo bent down to gather his pack. Head turned, and eyes facing the floor, he didn''t see it coming when Ms. Bell gripped the smoke between her teeth, freeing her hands, and bodily shoved Leo, heaving two handed to force him out of the vehicle. His eyes down, he was unprepared for the jarring impact. It was only his quick reflexes, and familiarity with similar scenarios that allowed him to twist his neck out of the way of the doorframe, and tuck into a protective ball in time.

    He was tall, but not particularly big or heavy. The impact onto the sun warmed concrete jarred him hard enough that it took him a moment to notice that while his tailbone had painfully made contact with the ground, his legs and pack were still half inside. Ms. Belle decided to fix that problem by gunning the vehicle. Leo had only enough wherewithal to grab the handle of his bag and yank his legs free before Ms. Belle drove out of his life, forever.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    That was it. Nearly 17 years in the system, and that was it. No more placements, no more group home, no more Ms. Belle, who had somehow not even been the worst of his caseworkers. Today, ignition or not he¡¯d be an adult in accordance with Confederation law. His arm¡¯s tingle turned into a pervasive, pulsing burn.

    Coalition law named age of majority at 25 for humanoid sapients, but being Earthborn into one of their colonies did not make him a Coalition citizen. The only way to become an official citizen was to either ignite his core or get adopted into a clan. The latter was the realm of fantasy for anyone without an ignited core, but the former would make adoption a moot point for Leo¡¯s purposes. Besides, he¡¯d given up on being adopted by anyone a long time ago. They¡¯d had 16 and a half years to do it before today, and he had no reason to believe anything would change.

    No, Leo would be like that magic girl in the story. He would have his own power manifest, and he¡¯d learn to grow stronger, to protect himself, to go after the things he wanted, and never be denied because of weakness or the luck of birth. He knew what life had in store for him if he didn¡¯t, and he genuinely believed death might be a better option. He refused to die in a mana farm, or under the boot of the gangs. Conviction reaffirmed, he stood himself up and did what he always did in situations like these. He broke the problem down into manageable, solvable chunks.

    He had a long run ahead of him if he wanted to make it to testing registration in any semblance of time. He didn¡¯t know where he was going or exactly how far away it was on this sprawling campus. He knew he¡¯d need to moderate his speed if he wanted to maintain a fast enough pace to make it all the way.

    So, sitting on the edge of the curb, tailbone throbbing, arm tingling, and holding at bay a completely unwelcome and confusing sense of grief, Leo did his breathing exercise and pulled open the map.

    A small red dot pulsed with a tingle Leo could swear he felt. Shaking off the feeling, and ignoring the increasing burn in his arm, he tried to orient himself to where he''d located the testing center and plot a path. It wasn¡¯t something he was unfamiliar with. He¡¯d practiced using the map every chance he got after receiving it. Using it to plot courses and walk around the sector, or at least the parts that were safe for him.

    His mind marked the rout, he¡¯d always had an incredible memory, then he stood, dusted himself off, and set out on his way at a steady jog. The pounding of booted feet against concrete, the feeling of his skin prickling with perspiration, the anxiety that hummed just under the surface, telling him he was running out of time. All of it pulled at Leo, like a phantom string in his mind.

    ¡°Run run little rabbit,¡± a man with heavy feet and foul breath clomped against the floor above him. ¡°You can run, but you can¡¯t hide.¡±

    Adrenaline spiked through the boy as he stifled his breath in the corner of the basement closet. It was an unfinished thing, all concrete, hardwood and exposed piping. What it lacked in aesthetics, it made up for with the number of small corners and nooks. Siny sanctuaries that an eight-year-old Leo took ample advantage of. It was a useless advantage, he knew. They¡¯d always find him, eventually. But anything, anything to stay out of the man¡¯s reach just a moment longer.

    The man had a life affinity. Life affinity practitioners were not people you could hide from, he knew that, he did, but he couldn¡¯t just stay where they¡¯d put him, bundled into a corner of a room he shared with the three other wards who lived in the house. That was asking for casual cruelty. If they wanted to do something to him, he wouldn¡¯t let them make it casual. He would make them work for it. Maybe then he¡¯d prove to be too much trouble, maybe they¡¯d leave him alone.

    But the man was a 1<sup>st</sup> Circle life practitioner, and even at nearly the lowest tier, ¡®life¡¯ was a terrifying affinity.

    A giant hand stretched for him, filling his vision, signaling his defeat as the man-

    ¡°Kid, kid, are you okay?¡± It was a woman in Coalition green. She was staring at the panting, sweating mess of a kid in front of her. Me, he thought. She¡¯s staring at me. Her eyes lingered intently on him, tracing the contours of his face with what felt like unnecessary intensity.

    A 2<sup>nd</sup> Circle? Perhaps a 3<sup>rd</sup>? Get it together L¨¦andros. He violently shoved the memory away in the overflowing mental vault where he kept the others. His arm was a blazing inferno now, throbbing and pulsing and doing heavens knew what. Was he okay? No, no he was not. But nobody actually cared for honesty, so instead he steadied his breathing and answered her.

    ¡°I apologize for being late. I¡¯m here for the testing?¡± He asked. The woman looked him over dubiously, but nodded in acknowledgement, more or less proving Leo¡¯s assumptions about how much she cared. It was fine.

    ¡°Core ignition?¡± She asked. He nodded, his breathing finally evening out with a careful application of willpower and experience. ¡°Well, you¡¯re a little late, but not by much, and registration hasn¡¯t closed yet. You¡¯re lucky, they¡¯re still just going over the process and instructions,¡± she said leading him briskly from the entrance of the building to where a series of desks had been set up in what Leo was finally having the wherewithal to appreciate was a beautiful building.

    He could practically feel the enchantments in the columns set at intervals in the massive atrium. Above them was a skylight he didn¡¯t doubt was equally if not better enchanted than the columns and entry points. The whole place was a gorgeous array of white marble with black and gold striations, and with plants both mundane, and obviously enhanced, everywhere in varying shades of green. But it was the power, the almost visible flows of vibrant energy that could practically be felt by even an untested mundane that truly caught his attention.

    For one beautiful, glorious moment, Leo¡¯s whole being settled. In a room awash with mana, he was captivated by the wonder of just existing in such a place. His mind was enthralled, and it felt like his body seemed to almost resonate with the waves of power being emanated by the building and the many high tiered people within it. As with so much in his life, however, he was dragged back to his reality all too quickly.

    ¡°Would you like to leave the pack with your family during the testing?¡± The woman asked. She wasn¡¯t even looking at him, instead, she was concentrated on the tablet in her hands as she unknowingly trampled on any good feelings he¡¯d been able to manifest thus far.

    A quick peek around at one side of the room showed a mass of people that he didn¡¯t know how he¡¯d missed upon entry. No, that wasn¡¯t true, he¡¯d been so giddy at the marvel of architecture and enchantment that they¡¯d faded into the background. A bad habit he needed to break. Immediately. Though in his defense, he¡¯d never felt anything like he¡¯d delt inside this building.

    ¡°I¡¯ll keep it,¡± he mumbled, eyes once more trained on the ground in front of him. He felt the woman¡¯s eyes on him, studying him as she paused briefly, before she shook her head and marched on.

    ¡°Suit yourself, let¡¯s get you in the system and on your way,¡± she said, her voice overly cheerful. ¡°Who knows, you may walk out of the building with an ignited core.¡±

    Who knows indeed Leo thought his eyes on the open doors of a hall filled with what he knew to be thousands of kids, all around his age or younger, praying to whichever divine or spirit blessed their clan. All hoping, and wishing, and imagining that at the end of today, they would be one of the fortunate ones.

    Leo didn¡¯t pray to any one of the myriad divinities that had ascended past mortality. Instead, he prayed to the power itself. Pled, more like. Begged even, that the power that suffused the world, which made up the rifts and the divinities, which allowed mortals to ascend, would take see something in him and give him this one thing.

    It was more than a fervent plea; it was a command. Give me power, he demanded, or give me the means to take it for myself. Then, even if it was only in his mind, he felt the universe accept.

 Three: The Ignition Chambers

    Three:

    The audience hall was gigantic. Leo knew it had to be a spatial enchantment of some kind, because it felt impossible that the room could actually fit inside the building that he¡¯d seen outside. He knew that these halls used dimensional magic and that he was technically now somewhere in District 1, which encompassed a chunk of what used to be western Canada and bits of the Pacific Northwest.

    He knew, technically, simply walking through the atrium doors was the same thing as portal travel, and while he was intensely curious about how it worked, he knew he was unlikely to ever find out. Perhaps if he understood how it worked, special enchantments and the like, then he would understand why they left such a tingly feeling on his skin, and a sort of, well, bone-itch is the best way he could describe the feeling. He had read a number of books about places called libraries that were repositories of knowledge¡ªfree knowledge for everybody. Simply walk inside, pluck a book, and all the secrets humanity had discovered were right there, available at your fingertips. Not the restricted-access information available on the public datapads, not the curated knowledge force-fed to them, but truly free knowledge about whatever you wanted to know. From science to philosophy, and art to mathematics.

    Well, they still had libraries now, but so much information had been destroyed during the Great Annihilation. And what was left of it? Anything that could actually be seen as more than mundane was guarded jealously by the rich and the elites. That reality became even worse when the Coalition arrived. Now it wasn''t just complex physics, engineering, and the secrets to space travel that were heavily guarded. Instead, it was all things related to power and control, from the basics of ignition to the mysteries of immortality.

    Sure, they left some mundane knowledge. It would be terrible to have your uneducated rabble not know how to greet an imperial star fleet from a distant civilization or how to bow and scrape properly to their ¡®betters¡¯ when ambassadors arrived from outside the galaxy. Oh, that information was freely and readily available. But basic things like how to progress from 1<sup>st </sup>to 2<sup>nd</sup> Circle, what it meant to have an affinity, and how to channel mana? Forget it. Even simply how to grow spirit herbs, or spot mana borne illnesses in unignited people were well-guarded secrets. The knowledge squirreled away far out of Leo¡¯s reach.

    And the most frustrating part was that while a lot of this information was guarded by the Coalition, most of it was considered basic information to those denizens beyond the stars. Stuff that they would learn in elementary school, stuff their parents would teach them. A lot of information that the Coalition provided was simply kept from the common people of Earth. Restricted from them not by the immortal aliens, but by their own, Earthborn ¡®leadership¡¯. Even decades after the war, humanity remained just as terrible and disappointing as it had always been ¨C hoarding information instead of spreading it, guarding power instead of sharing it, weakening the planet instead of strengthening it, forcing people into social strata not based on merit but on the lottery of birth.

    It explained the demographics of the room. Young people, aged anywhere from 12 to 18 years old, sat in orderly rows as they listened to the speaker go on about what the procedure would be like. That¡¯s why there were twelve-year-olds in here. Core ignition testing was a mandatory stipulation to the agreement between the Coalition and planet Earth. It was mandatory that all people be tested by the time they turned eighteen. However, ignition could safely be done on children as young as twelve. Of course, only if you had the money or connections for it. It meant that those kids, the spawn of the elites, sometimes had a six-year head start on every other person on the planet. Those who had families who were able to scrimp and save enough to get them early ignitions at thirteen, fourteen, or fifteen were years ahead of their peers in the lowest strata.

    In those years of extra time, Leo knew that even as part of the uneducated rabble, those elites had a head start on literal power progression. He would always be one step behind. It meant that the jobs he was working toward, the schools he could apply to, and any institution he sought to be a part of would be comparing him to people he had no chance of competing against. Everybody knew cultivation was a game of time. The earlier you began, the earlier you progressed, and in a world where might made right and power was synonymous with safety, it was a grim proposition for people like Leo.

    But that wouldn¡¯t stop him. He¡¯d access his core. He¡¯d watch it ignite. He just knew it. And what he couldn¡¯t make up for in money or status, he would in hard work, relentless dedication, and a voracious drive to progress, and progress, and progress. And when that failed, his insatiable curiosity would see him through.

    Because while they may have scoured the libraries of anything they deemed potentially dangerous or consequential, they hadn¡¯t locked away all knowledge. Libraries did still exist, and with them came data terminals. One would be surprised how much you could learn just using the scraps of information people deemed inconsequential, mundane, or simply obsolete.

    Leo barely paid attention as the woman at the front of the lecture hall continued to speak about what they should expect. Leo finally tuned in after the woman, dressed in Confederation regalia, began giving actual information instead of just extolling the many virtues of the Coalition. She expressed reasons why they should be grateful to the Confederation for granting all the plebeians like Leo the opportunity to use such incredible technology. It was BS. The Confederation was required to allow them to do this, but somehow, they had to find a way to make it seem like they were in control. Humanity, he scoffed, ignoring the fact that he was, in fact, a part of the group.

    ¡°You will be taken to the ignition chambers,¡± she said. ¡°There, we will flood the small chamber with mana at roughly ten times the amount present in Earth¡¯s ambient mana, or four times the amount present in a Veil Rift. Remember, while the process might be uncomfortable, it should never be painful. You will spend no less than ten but no more than thirty seconds in the chamber. If you are successful, or particularly gifted, your core will ignite, and you will become a core formation cultivator.

    "It is at this point in time that those of you who successfully ignite your cores will likely be approached either by one of Earth¡¯s academies, or by one of the Coalition¡¯s allied sects. Those of you with extraordinary potential may even be approached to attend the Institute,¡± the woman said. The feeling of pride emanating from her led Leo to believe she had either been accepted by a sect or was a graduate of the institute.

    Well, he thought, no matter. Even if he ended up starting out in some backwater, Earthbound sect, all he needed was time and access to information. He just wanted to know¡­ Well, he wanted to know everything. But primarily, he wanted access to sect healers, something that had been denied to him his entire childhood. Apart from, possibly, during his birth, though nobody knew which hospital or healing ward he was born in, so he couldn¡¯t say for certain.

    His arm pulsed in agony, and he knew he¡¯d have to alert somebody soon. He had a medical bracelet for it, but an unknown chronic illness didn¡¯t really help anybody prepare for what Leo had been dealing with most of his life. Just a little more time, he begged his arm. We¡¯re almost in the room.

    There was a tugging, nagging sensation in the back of his head that said that if he could just ignite his core, everything would be better. But he knew better than to believe in fantasies like that. Instead, he would follow his routine, and hope that things would be okay.

    Instead, the flood of children in the grand atrium were told to line up at designated doors based on their age sector and any potential sect affiliation. Leo, unsurprisingly, was led to a door in Sector Seven with a bunch of other young adults between 16 and 18, some of whom were dressed well, but nobody with any extraordinary or noticeable wealth or pedigree. Just normal, middle-class folk. Maybe they had a 1<sup>st </sup>or 2<sup>nd </sup>Circle parent who worked in a spirit garden, or managed the accounts of some sector corporation.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Nobody with any affiliations past 3<sup>rd </sup>Circle would likely be in this line of undesirables. Well, at least that¡¯s what they were considered, if the look on the face of the man who was shuffling them through the doorway was any indication.

    Punishment duty, perhaps? Leo mused.

    While Leo hadn¡¯t really felt anything apart from a slight fluctuation of power when he first entered the atrium, when he crossed this doorway, it was almost as though his entire body tingled. Power. So much power. His knees buckled, and he barely caught himself quickly enough not to make a scene. A girl who had crossed the doorway near him gave him a look of disapproval before doing a double take. He didn¡¯t exactly scream ¡®affluence¡¯ and even in this crowd he was somewhat an outsider. The disapproval became a sneer.

    ¡°Have some dignity,¡± she whispered harshly.

    Leo didn¡¯t respond. Truth be told, he didn¡¯t much care. He would much rather be spending his time taking in the overwhelming sight in front of him. He¡¯d never shared with anyone that he believed he could see some of the fluctuations of mana in the air ¨C the mana motes that he was almost positive he could faintly see from the corner of his vision ¨C drifting to and fro. He¡¯d explained it once to a psychiatrist on one of his sector mandated check-ins, and after the psych had laughed him off, he¡¯d told Leo that if he continued to make up dangerous lies like that, he would put in his file that he was insane and all of the implied consequences that came with such a designation.

    At the time, the then four-year-old Leo had no idea what he meant, but he¡¯d felt the contempt, the condescension, but most poignantly, he¡¯d felt the undercurrent of fear the doctor was silently radiating. The idea of being drugged for eternity, essentially a vegetable in his own body ¨C or any of the other harsh, myriad descriptions of consequences the doctor had spelled out ¡®for little boys who told lies that could get people in trouble¡¯ ¨C was a fear driven deeply into his psyche. He¡¯d said nothing of it ever since, and he had no plans to speak of it again. Some secrets were best kept, and some lessons needed to be taught only once.

    But looking around, here and now, he longed for someone, anyone to share it with. The iridescent, almost smoke-like emanations of true power weren¡¯t just awe-inspiring, they were affirming. He saw the mana! He wanted to shout it out. He wasn¡¯t crazy, he wasn¡¯t delusional. The power was there, right in front of him, like smoke, or fog, or iridescent steam.

    Something fundamental within him was shifting under the deluge of mana. He wanted to bask in it. He wanted to lay down on his back in a quiet meadow flooded with the ever-shifting motes of power and breathe it in like it was oxygen. He felt like a man who¡¯d been starving for so long that he¡¯d stopped feeling the pervasive hunger, who had finally gotten a taste of sustenance.

    It felt so good. He clenched his jaw, hard, to stifle his innate reaction, and apart from the rude girl, it seemed that nobody was really paying him any mind. He was grateful for this, as it was obvious, nobody else was having this reaction to such a dense, mana-rich environment. Not even the technicians who had to be at least 3<sup>rd </sup>Circle, or the 4<sup>th </sup>Circle man who had been leading the group.

    Actually, that was curious. Shouldn¡¯t they be the most affected? He wished he had his notebook in hand to write down a reminder to look into his, apparently, unusual reaction to mana. He had his speculations, but proper research would be necessary.

    Finally getting his bearings, Leo took a look around the room. It was less arcana, and more modern medicine than he¡¯d have expected. The ignition room was clean, with white walls, tiled flooring, and bright, blue-white mana lights that might have passed as fluorescents if not for the power they emanated. There appeared to be ten pods with opaque glass walls ¨C or at least what appeared to be glass walls ¨C all completely enchanted. He knew that these were the ignition chambers where the mana baptism would be conducted.

    Leo couldn¡¯t stop his mind from spiraling out and speculating on what exactly a mana baptism entailed. Would the airtight chambers be filled with concentrated mana so dense it could be considered liquid? Would they be submerged in a substance, or perhaps showered in it? The only information Leo had about ¡®baptisms¡¯ was gathered not from cultivating texts, but from religious practices and doctrine (though many had insinuated that the two were one and the same ¨C unsurprisingly, those ¡®many tended not so survive long after publishing their ideas).

    It took a while, and a lot of self convincing for Leo to focus back in on what was happening around him, instead of on the myriad thoughts and ideas his mind liked to spin out. Now wasn¡¯t the time for ¡®Leo-the-Curious¡¯ ¨C as one of his better foster parents had called him. Now was listen-and-maybe-get-your-core-ignited time. No, not maybe. You have to believe it, he told himself. He had to will his desired outcome into existence; to manifest it.

    Turning his attention back to the room, he absently noted that it was the kind of space you''d see in any hospital. The room itself was large, with enough seating and standing room for al of the unignited to be comfortable enough. The man leading the group pointed to a recessed door in an out of the way corner. He explained that the door led to the resting chambers. Apparently, the ignition process could take a lot our of a person, even if their core didn¡¯t ignite. A mana baptism could be a trying process on the body. Well, at least that was one thing he knew he¡¯d survive. He was no stranger to discomfort, that was for certain. He pointedly did not scratch at his still tingle-burning left forearm.

    ¡°We will be calling you up in order of arrival. We¡¯ll be going ten at a time. One for each chamber. Just to reiterate, you will be in the chambers for no more than thirty seconds, but no less than ten seconds-

    ¡°No, put your hands down, we will not extend the time you are in the chamber. Millenia of fine tuning the process has shown us exactly the safest amount of mana a potential cultivator can be subjected to before the results for both those whose cores successfully ignite, and for those whose do not- I said out your hands down!

    ¡°Yes, the sects, clans and the Coalition Council do have more precise instruments that be set to the optimize the baptism for a specific cultivator.

    ¡°No, none of you are special, important, or meaningful enough for us to use any of these methods on what amounts to an obligation made by the Coalition to the Terrans.¡± The man¡¯s phrasing, information, and the reverent treatment he was receiving from the people who were presumably his subordinates, convinced Leo of one thing. This cultivator was an alien. Or an ¡®off-worlder¡¯ as they liked to be called. Leo tucked that thought away for later speculation before tuning back in to the man¡¯s monologue.

    ¡°Moving on.¡± The man gestured at the staff, and support workers around him in Coalition green and the few in the colours of their various sects and clans, but bearing the symbol indicating them as ¡®healers¡¯. ¡°We will be able to monitor your status within the chamber using our linked devices.¡± The man held up a tablet that Leo could easily identify as a datapad, but one of the good ones made by the coalition that were only sold to specific, powerful individuals or groups. This one had a small slot for a mana-shard. The device was a remarkable blend of magic and technology if Leo had to put a word to it. If such a small tablet needed its own core to power it, Leo wondered just how much processing it was actually doing, and just how much more it was capable of, considering the amount of ambient mana saturating the room.

    ¡°Any questions before we proceed?¡± The man asked. Yes. Many! Leo shouted in the privacy of his own mind. Instead of betraying both his ignorance, and potentially overstepping his bounds, Leo did what everyone else did and kept his curiosity to himself. It wasn¡¯t like the man had been sincere in his inquiry anyway when he immediately followed up his own question with a complete shut down for any of brave idiots in the crowd that might have actually asked anything. ¡°No questions then? Good.¡± Then the lead tech turned away, seeming entirely disinterested with the proceedings.

    Besides, Leo mused, despite the fact that this was a big day, perhaps the most important day for every single young person in the room, for this man, it was probably just another Friday.

    "Just another Friday. You will have bigger days, and more meaningful moments," Leo said under his breath, trying to convince himself. Willing himself to believe his own words for the sake of his nerves and his sanity. "Just another Friday."

    As if in response to his mumbled words, the technicians who had until this point been milling about looking busy, or leisurely checking devices and instruments Leo couldn¡¯t even begin to comprehend, suddenly became focused. Then the first ten names were called.

    And so, it began.

 Four: From His Spot in the Corner

    Four:

    One of the many unpleasant things about chronic conditions are their complete disregard for reasonable timing. This was why instead of eagerly observing the most powerful workings of mana Leo had ever had the opportunity to witness, instead of basking in the overwhelming power permeating through the ignition room, Leo was unsuccessfully trying to relax his jaw and ignore the creeping pain in his arm.

    The pain and discomfort were nothing new, but the timing. Something had changed. His symptoms were escalating quickly. Much too quickly, and Leo didn¡¯t know why. So, he did what he always did, broke down the problem into manageable chunks.

    Instead of heading for a chair or a into the milling mass of socializing youth, Leo found a nice, unoccupied corner to sit and be unobtrusive in. Then he dug out his notebook and flipped to a well used page, already half filled with small hand drawn tables and lists. He¡¯d divided the page into small 1cm by 1cm squares into a pattern he¡¯d discovered called ¡®grid-paper¡¯. Leo really liked grid paper, even if it did take a long time to create. While blank pages allowed for freedom, they were also structureless, and while lined paper provided of direction, he found its form too rigid for Leo. But grid paper? It was like an invitation for endless possibility within a framework. Structured chaos. There was a not small part of Leo that loved that.

    On a previously blank section of the grid he wrote out a list of things that were significant enough in the last hour to that could have affected his condition. Stress certainly was a significant factor, but it wasn¡¯t like this was the first time he¡¯d been in a stressful situation, nor was this his first experience with anxiety, or elation. In fact, the only really unique sensation he was having was his elation at being in a room full of power. Would intense positive emotions cause a flare up, or an acceleration in his symptoms? He didn¡¯t have enough data, but something about it felt wrong. Emotions were felt through chemicals, and he¡¯d generated enough dopamine, serotonin and endorphins through stress, exercise, and education to mostly rule that out.

    So, if the problem wasn¡¯t something inside him that had changed, what was outside him that could have triggered the truly horrific pain in his arm. At this point he was starting to feel like someone had injected his veins with tiny shards of glass and the hollows of his bones with boiling lead. He tried to take deep breaths and think. Maybe if he could solve this, he could slow down the process long enough to make it to his turn.

    ¡°Think, Leo,¡± he muttered. What changed. The answer practically hit him in the chest. Lost in his thoughts he¡¯d stopped paying attention to the ignition chambers, the technicians, and the general goings on around him. Not until the first baptisms began and the already mana-dense room was flooded with a sudden, overwhelming wave of unaspected, unrefined mana. While the flood of energy felt fantastic, it was also overwhelmingly and suffocating. It was like something within him was trying to claim the mana even though his body was obviously not handling the mana-dense environment well.

    Leo began to panic as the throbbing in his arm worsened, spreading with alarming speed. It had never been this bad, this fast before. Well, that wasn¡¯t true; it had just never been like this without the presence of a healer before. A healer who used mana. A healer who used spells, arts, and workings all fueled by mana. So much made sense now. How could he have known that the poison was the cure if the healers themselves never realized that they did as much damage diagnosing and healing him as whatever was causing his pain in the first place? He was suddenly very grateful that his past self had decided to study medicine ¨C one of the many ¡®mundane¡¯ disciplines that none of the powers that be thought to regulate.Stolen story; please report.

    Then the pressure in the room died down, the mana levels dropped, and Leo was finally able to take a full breath after seconds that felt like hours. He watched as the first ten young people exited the opaque glass chambers. All downcast, all exhausted, all ushered efficiently through the door and into the recovery room.

    From his spot in the corner, he sat alone with his notebook out, determined to watch carefully this time as the next 10 people were called, and diligently documenting the process - or as much of it as he could perceive.

    Once more, the room flooded. Once more, his body rebelled. Once more he clenched his teeth, found his center, and breathed through the pain. This time though, he took notes.

    Leo knew that only between three to five percent of the population of Earth had the potential to have their core ignited. There was some fluctuation from that number with other humanoids and other planets, but not much. Then there were things like proximity to leylines, access to mana infused food and pre-cultivation resources made a difference as well. Looking around at the roughly 400 other young people who were also not wealthy or well connected enough to get an early ignition, well likely no more than ten of them would leave this room as cultivators. But maybe if he could actually see an ignition in action, feel it like he felt the power around him. Maybe he could gain some insight into the process and increase his odds. Why leave something up to luck when you could prepare. Besides, Leo never trusted anyone who relied on something as fickle and biased as luck.

    Then another round of youths stepped up to the chambers, and mana flooded the room once more. The agony this time was nearly unbearable. He felt as the bones in his arm began to weaken and fracture, felt some of his smaller veins bulge and rupture causing a mottled bruising to appear on the light brown skin of his arm. Gingerly he slipped on his sweater and once more steadied his breathing. Deep breath into the belly for four, hold for four, release for four, hold for four, and repeat.

    His mind drifted as he breathed, and he remembered an old religion still practised by many people on Earth, and, as he¡¯d come to discover, by many beyond the stars. The idea that there was some grand Creator more powerful than the immortals the gods, and the Veil itself. Well, he didn¡¯t know if he believed in a Creator with a grand design, but he did believe there was a power beyond the Immortals, a power beyond the petty deities created through endless cultivation and refinement. He believed there was something, or someone, out there. And that was who he prayed to in his darkest moments¡ªwhen the pain became so overwhelming it was hard to even think. Because unlike the petty immortals who would wipe out worlds to soothe their egos or the deities whose divinity relied on their dao, a being like this ¡®Creator¡¯ simply wouldn¡¯t care. Was this pain truly all-consuming if it was so far beneath such a being¡¯s notice. Sometimes perspective helped. Sometimes it was just a cruel reminder that he was alone. Either way, it got his mind off the pain and helped him refocus onto more important things.

    He watched as round after round of people went through the chambers and exited them, disappointed. His pain spiked, ebbed, and creeped up his arm with each successive group. He¡¯d continued taking notes, trying to prepare himself for what ignition would mean and hoping that someone, anyone would ignite their core already so that he could witness it happening first-hand. But as the next group went in, the throbbing moved from his shoulder to his neck, increasing the pressure in his jaw, his eyes, and his head. He felt his vision begin to waver and knew he¡¯d run out of time.

 Five: Through Muscle and Sinew

    Five:

    He was going to lose his entire forearm this time; he just knew it. It had been bad before, but it was getting worse and worse, and with the pressure building he knew he needed to act now to minimise the damage. After all, he wouldn¡¯t have access to free healing forever. Best to get help while help was still available, he told himself as he packed away his notebook and stood.

    ¡°Excuse me,¡± he said, slowly approaching one of the technicians monitoring the mana saturation levels of a chamber. The middle-aged-looking woman turned her head to glance at him, then returned her focus to her tablet.

    ¡°Ma¡¯am, excuse me,¡± he tried, a little louder.

    She sighed, looked up, and said, ¡°What? These are very delicate processes, young man.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I understand. I need¡ª¡±

    ¡°What?¡± she cut him off.

    ¡°If I could get an ice pack and some gauze?¡± he asked.

    Her face shifted from contempt to confusion. ¡°Young man, if this is some sort of prank or joke-¡±

    ¡°No, I have¡ª¡± he tried to lower his voice.

    ¡°Speak up!¡± That caught the attention of some of the others in the room, standing and waiting their turn, mingling, or sitting in the provided seating. The next round of people were waiting to enter their chamber, waiting on him, he realised. He did not like this attention, and with his head throbbing, and his arm feeling like each cell was unraveling at a microscopic level while his bones were slowly ground to paste, he wanted to be in front of these people even less than they wanted him there.

    ¡°Ma¡¯am,¡± he began again. ¡°I have a condition. I just need an ice pack, please. And some gauze.¡±

    She looked at him for a moment, then glanced back to her datapad, then up at the waiting students. ¡°Do you require a healer?¡±

    ¡°I-¡± he took a deep breath. ¡°I will. But not now.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean, not now? Speak plainly, you¡¯re holding the line¡± she said, her voice acerbic.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on here?¡± It was the man who had led them into the room yet hadn¡¯t deigned to give any of them his name or designation outside of ¡®I¡¯m-the-guy-in-charge¡¯. ¡°Why are you disrupting the process, Mr.¡­?¡±

    Leo watched the man¡¯s right eye spark with something, a flash of iridescence. His stern expression twisted into a snarl. ¡°Foster,¡± he said. The name was like a declaration and seemed to echo through the room like a gavel¡¯s bang, sentencing Leo in the eyes of every other person there.

    Leo might have had a different reaction to being outed as an orphan and ward of the sector, perhaps something between anger and shame, if he wasn¡¯t in such incredible pain.

    ¡°Sir,¡± Leo said. ¡°I need an ice pack and gauze. Please... and then I will need a healer. That is all,¡± Leo concluded. In response, the man scoffed, did an about face and made a circling gesture with his hand.

    ¡°Send in the next round,¡± the man said, Leo officially beneath his notice or mention. The next group of ten trouped in, and Leo¡¯s knees nearly buckled when the room flooded, and sharp, pulsing waves of agony flowed down his arm. ¡°Not now,¡± he begged, ¡°not now, not now, not yet.¡± Deep breaths, he told himself, though he could barely pay attention to what the woman in front of him was saying.

    ¡°Sir,¡± Leo called out. Desperate, beyond exhausted, and a touch spiteful, Leo held up his right arm. On his wrist, a glinting silver medical bracelet wrapped manifested. ¡°I invoke the Rights of Children.¡±

    The room fell silent, save for the quiet, not quite natural humming of the ignition chambers at work. While not everyone was like Leo, and had memorized the laws and treatise signed between Earth and the Confederation, everyone, contextually, knew the gist of what it meant when someone invoked the Rights of Children.

    In a world ravaged by war, the introduction of mana, and a sudden alien invasion, one of the few things all Earth powers could agree on was that if they wanted there to be a native population of humans on Earth, they needed to protect the future. The Rights of Children was one of the first charters that was written between the Coalition and the slowly re-building United Nations. The charter included many stipulations and provisions, but one of the major points was that no child (wherein for the purposes of the charter a child is indicated by the Coalition as any Earth born humanoid in under the age of 25 or who has yet to undergo a mana baptism or by the United Nations of Earth as any human under the age of 18 ) is to be denied access to competent healing when such healing is available and has been requested by the child or by their guardian. Or where such healing is required but the child has no guardian and is unable to advocate for themselves.

    It was fairly comprehensive, but with just enough wiggle room that the people who truly wanted to get away with denying medical care to kids, could. That was why Leo¡¯s bracelet was so important. It was an enchanted item. One he¡¯d had since infancy. It was coded to his aura, his personal signature, and his DNA. It was rare, had been forged and enchanted by a 7<sup>th</sup> circle cultivator, who worked in one of the off-world sects that provided such items in bulk to various colony worlds. He probably wouldn¡¯t have even been eligible to receive one if one of his legs hadn¡¯t overloaded and blown off on the operation table of the healer¡¯s hall he was being treated at. Exploding babies are a great motivator, it turns out, for giving lifesaving treasures to orphaned children.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    Now, the only way to remove the bracelet from him was for Leo to voluntarily disable the enchantment on it because even in death, the metal would simply dissipate. It was the most precious item he owned, and its presence on his arm meant that Leo had a recognized illness, and that as it pertained to the Coalition, the Confederation, and any Coalition allied territory Leo had the same rights as stipulated in The Rights of Children regardless of his age, his respective citizenship, or his cultivation status. Until he reached the 7<sup>th</sup> circle himself, he was entitled to free medical care from a competent healer. Most of the time the metal sat sunk below his skin, becoming a part of his body until he called upon it. But once called upon and witnessed, nobody below the 7<sup>th</sup> circle ¨C certainly not this man ¨C could deny him aid without violating the treaty and risking crippling their own cultivation.

    So why not invoke this right before? Simple. If the reaction to his surname - ¡®Foster¡¯ ¨C had been general disdain mixed with pity and self superiority, the reaction to his bracelet was even more stark.

    Fear, repugnance, trepidation, disgust. The bracelets were rare and especially on non-elites they meant that there was something seriously wrong with the individual who was granted one. Something even the power hungry, resource hoarding, little-regard-for-life cultivators deemed awful enough to make them part with such an incredible treasure. In short he went from being treated like an undesirable to a plague victim by everyone without an ignited core, and like a homeless man halfway into the grave by the cultivators in the room whose bodies were unable or unlikely to contract anything from a mortal child. Finally, he it was never a good idea to force the hand of a person more powerful than you. People like that held grudges, and you being in the right had little to do with how they responded. This man was a prime example.

    Leo watched as the man seethed, feeling nothing but exhaustion and anxiety. He needed the supplies, and he needed them now. The group of 10 stepped out of the chambers and were ushered away as the man had a war with himself. Eventually he came to some conclusion as he turned abruptly away from Leo.

    ¡°Medical supplies are over there, as is our apprentice healer. She¡¯ll deal with you,¡± the man gestured in the direction of a wall panel on the side of the room. While Leo had never heard about anyone dying from a mana baptism, the room being as well stocked as it was indicated that perhaps the process of core ignition had been understated. Nobody mentioned anything about mana baptisms being dangerous, but that didn¡¯t mean much when nobody really said anything about anything. Head down, feet shuffling, he made his way to the wall with the woman and the supplies.

    The person he¡¯d been sent to he¡¯d originally thought was another young participant. Instead of the robes traditional of the sects and clans, this medical attendant was wearing a long jacket over jeans and a grey t-shirt. The only thing that indicated she was anything other than another young hopeful was the symbol on her coat that signified her clan and that she was a ¡®Trainee Healer.¡¯ Good, he thought, I won¡¯t die today.

    ¡°Excuse me?¡± he asked her. She was young, probably his age, or slightly older. If he had to guess, she was probably someone who¡¯d been able to afford ignition at an absurdly young age, like twelve or thirteen. Someone who had connections, prospects, a clear path to progress and power. He wasn¡¯t resentful, just... sad.

    Her bored eyes traced over him, and she reached out a hand in an almost automatic move to diagnose him. ¡°No,¡± he swayed away, ignoring the annoyed look on her face.

    ¡°Didn¡¯t you ask for a healer?¡±

    ¡°Just gauze and an ice pack. Please.¡±

    ¡°I know healing arts,¡± she said, defensive. ¡°I¡¯ve been training for almost four years. I can do a basic diagnosis spell in my sleep. Give me your hand.¡±

    Again, Leo dodged away. Why did nobody ever just listen to him? It was his condition; he¡¯d been living with it for years. Was it nor at least reasonable to assume he knew what he was talking about? To give him the benefit of the doubt? Healing always made it worse; whatever reaction he was having to this room would only be exacerbated. He felt it, he knew it. If she tried to heal him, it would only make things worse. It would be catastrophic.

    ¡°Ice and gauze, please. Healing after.¡± He didn¡¯t know how many times he¡¯d repeated it, but he could feel his voice growing strained from the asking, the endless asking. If the woman had listened to him... if the man had just let him speak... if everyone didn¡¯t assume they knew better than him.

    No, he didn¡¯t have time for that kind of thinking as he scrambled, one handed; to catch the gauze and the crystalline item she had lobbed at him, pull off his hoodie ¨C one of only three he owned ¨C and sink down against the wall closest to the healer while she watched him with a mix of annoyance and curiosity and disdain.

    He didn¡¯t dare pull off his shirt. Not with so many curious eyes, and not when he was running out of time. Just a little longer, he told himself as the pressure in his veins increased and his vision blurred as bolts of what felt like fire daggers pierced the space behind his eyes.

    He wrapped his arm tightly, starting from where the pulsing was worst. His arm, from mid-bicep down, was as tightly secured as he could manage, strangling the blood flow. Though, by this point, it was moot. He grabbed the curious crystal artifact the woman handed him and felt it pulsing weakly with mana. An ice affinity mana shard. Leo pressed his lips together tightly before turning to address the girl. ¡°Do you have normal ice?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Where do you think you are?¡± She snorted, rolling her eyes. ¡°Do you not know how to activate a simple mana shard?¡±

    He shook his head. The ice was a diversion, a delaying tactic. More to numb him than anything else. He¡¯d gone without before. He would go without again. Then, he gritted his teeth, settled in, and waited.

    It didn¡¯t take long for the pulsing throb, the burning unraveling, to become an incessant beat in sync with his heart. Then the pulsing sped up and fell out of tempo. Faster and faster. He rummaged through his bag and pulled out a length of a long worn-through leather belt he¡¯d chopped up for just this purpose. Then he bit down on it, despite the disgusted glances of a few of the onlookers and the amused glare of the healer girl. Finaly, when the crescendo of agony reached its peak, he felt his arm explode.

    The explosion started from the bone, fragments shattering outward, tearing through muscle and sinew, and only prevented from spraying out of his skin by the tightly wrapped gauze.

    He didn¡¯t scream. Instead, his eyes squeezed closed, teeth buried in the leather strap. Horror flashed across the girl¡¯s face, and on the faces of the technicians and young people who had been watching him. This wasn¡¯t the first time, and honestly, he was more relieved that the pressure in his head was dying down than that he had an audience. Though on second thought, pressure meant his blood was in his body. Where it was supposed to be.

    He looked up at the healer girl, his eyes bleary, his arm a useless mess beside him. ¡°Healing,¡± he said. Then ¡°healing,¡± he said louder when she failed to respond.

    She looked into his eyes, hers filled with horror, and his with resignation and anguish.

    ¡°Please,¡± he asked, then he closed his eyes, exhausted and waited. They weren¡¯t even halfway through the people, and he knew he was in the last batch. It was going to be a very, very long day.

 Six: My Only Master

    Six:

    You know that feeling, when you¡¯re minding your own business, then chunks of you randomly explode like overheated batteries? No? Well considering this was a semi-regular occurrence for Leo, he could conclusively say it was very gross and super awkward. Painful, for sure, alarming and potentially hazardous to both himself, and sometimes the people around him, but now that he had a sort-of routine to manage the experience, it was mostly just the gross and the awkward that he regularly had to deal with.

    Aside from the fact that he really, really, didn¡¯t like being in the spotlight, or the centre of attention, as that had almost never resulted in positive experiences for him, there was also the aftermath that had to be considered.

    There was, of course, the agonizing pain, the cleanup ¨C though his judicious, pre-emptive application of gauze had somewhat taken care of that ¨C but mostly there were the occasional witnesses and the healer to consider.

    People were staring, people were disturbed, disgusted, and rightfully wary of him, and the healer was now obligated to wade into the situation and not only tend to a truly gruesome wound, but become part of the spectacle as well.

    This often wasn¡¯t an issue. Usually, he had enough forewarning to get to the medical room at the home, or one of the free healer¡¯s halls. Usually, the people around him knew of his condition. Usually, the healers he¡¯d visited had a sort of ¡®seen it all attitude¡¯. They were generally older 1<sup>st</sup> or 2<sup>nd</sup> Circle cultivators who had stalled out in their cultivation journey and who had been relegated by their clan or sect to what were essentially the volunteer hours negotiated by the Confederation. Occasionally though, there were situations like these. An accident at school, the new kid in a foster-home or, like in this case, he had an incident as a stranger in a strange place. Then, he¡¯d get a healer like this. An ignition or 1<sup>st</sup> Circle trainee sent out to get experience. She was obviously young ¨C something difficult to tell when dealing with the variable aging of cultivators, but even early starters reached maturity before whatever processes that stopped them from aging kicked in. The girl was also obviously reeling, and as she stood like a frightened opossum, mutely watching as Leo oozed and dripped out of his bandages, he took it upon himself to prompt her into action.

    ¡°Miss?¡± He asked. ¡°If you could¡­¡± He let the sentence trail off.

    As if his words had ended the fugue the entire room had fallen into, the healer abruptly jolted into action. She looked like one of the mechanical automatons he¡¯d seen outside some of the High District buildings as she robotically made her way forward to address the wound as Leo began to stoically unwrap the bandage that was presently the only thing keeping what was left of his forearm in its place. Robotically, she reached out and placed her hand just above the joint of his elbow, where there was still some healthy-ish flesh.

    Leo watched, fascinated as always as the eddies and ripples of life mana ¨C along with barely discernable traces of water, and blood, what he thought might be metal, as well as some unaspected mana ¨C began slowly knitting the torn, jagged bones and flesh of his wound back together. Where chunks and bone were missing, like a miracle, they regrew before his eyes.

    While fascinating to him, the scene itself must have been too much for many of the gathered bystanders, including one of the chamber monitors, and the healer herself. He only really registered the rapid paling of skin, and the expression on the girls face as she finished the healing, staggered to her feet, and then made it two steps before she promptly turned around and evacuated whatever meal she''d recently eaten. She wasn¡¯t the only one.

    Leo didn''t blame her, or any of them. His arm had been gruesome ¨C all splinters of bone and dangling meaty bits ¨C and most of these people probably hadn¡¯t had an entire lifetime to become desensitised to the gore. But while it was generally the case that Leo would begin to feel bad at this point, the truth was that he was entirely too much in his own mind feel much of anything besides agony, and fascination.

    It was the trace amounts of his own mana ¨C mana that was innately possessed by all things ¨C that he found was reacting to the environmental mana all around him. He¡¯d been able to watch as his body absorbed and processed this ambient mana to aid with the healing. It was like his body was naturally supplementing the healer¡¯s spell. It was this room, this entire building, but specifically insane quantity of mana in this room that had made it clear to him.

    He stood, as he pondered, in order to move away from the aufal now littering the floor around the corner he¡¯d been occupying. Ignoring the looks, and comments of the group, and the hateful stare of the healer who was now equipped with cleaning supplies ¨C water mana swirling in violent arcs around her ¨C he began to make his way to another corner of the room where could think in relative seclusion. He wanted to stay and watch her work whatever magics she was about to use, but he was well aware of the number of people making no secret of how little they wanted him anywhere near them.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    He wished he had some way to observe from afar.

    If he wasn¡¯t a complete pariah before¡ªbeing a Foster and all¡ªhe absolutely was now. There was unlikely to be a single other person in the room, from those who had been escorted out in disappointment to those who still awaited their turn in the machines, who was inclined to think favourably about him.

    He understood it, somewhat. He had interrupted what would probably be the most important ritual in their young lives. Depending on whether they ignited their cores or not this was likely the only ¡®true¡¯ ritual they¡¯d ever experience, and the only one they would participate in as anything other than an observer or a victim.

    He wondered if any of these people realised this was just as important for him. No, he could see it in their eyes, feel it in the air around them with that sense of ¡®knowing¡¯ that had yet to be proven wrong. They¡¯d already written him off like the head technician had when he¡¯d read his name.

    ¡°Show¡¯s over,¡± that same head technician sneered at Leo. The enmity was palpable. It was like the man was implying that Leo had purposefully, publicly blown off his own arm. ¡°Next ten,¡± the man announced, rattling off a list of names.

    As Leo sunk down slowly along the far wall, sore, exhausted, and truly drained, he felt his body instinctively tense up as the healer came back around to find him. She was marching towards him with determination, and had something in her hands. Her face wasn¡¯t kind, and not knowing what to expect, Leo prepared for the worst. Staggering to his feet once more, and clutching his bag half as a shield, and half as a habit, he braced himself when she thrust her hands forward.

    He almost dropped the items when she slammed them into his chest. Both arms full he moved, more quickly than the girl was probably expecting, and slipped the backpack to one arm. Then he caught the small bag he¡¯d just been assaulted with and slipped the loop around his other arm.

    Leo¡¯s abrupt actions had the girl tensing, and Leo stayed very still as she assessed him. He could see that she was doing something, or the mana around her and between them was, but what that something was he didn¡¯t even have a frame of reference for. Shaking her head she pointed to the small bag she¡¯d shoved into him and gave a single command.

    ¡°Eat.¡±

    Not sure what to do, aside from nod his head as the girl continued to stand there and glare at him, he stayed still and waited.

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you ask for a private room, or at least to wait in the infirmary?¡± She asked.

    ¡°A private room,¡± he repeated. She nodded once.

    ¡°Yes, or the infirmary.¡±

    ¡°I¡­¡± Should he go with the truth? At this point he didn¡¯t see how it would really change much. ¡°I didn¡¯t know it was an option,¡± he said.

    ¡°You, what?¡± The healer asked, her face scrunched in confusion.

    ¡°Nobody mentioned it,¡± Leo continued.

    ¡°It was in the orientation,¡± she quietly raged at him. ¡°Are you thick? Did you not pay any attention to the safety briefing. I¡¯d have assumed if you were wearing that,¡± she pointed to his medical bracelet, ¡°that you¡¯d at least have enough self preservation instincts to pay attention to critical information that could save your life.¡±

    The words were harsh, but if it was true, then from her point of view Leo might have deserved the look of utter disgust and contempt she was throwing at him ¨C though some of the scorn just seemed like the everyday, run of the mill prejudice he usually faced. He had paid attention, close attention. However, even if Leo hadn¡¯t been paying attention to the orientation, it wouldn¡¯t have mattered.

    ¡°I arrived late,¡± Leo stated simply. His voice remained low and even, and he refused to let any embarrassment or shame take hold. It hadn¡¯t been his fault, and he refused to let his now former case worker and the reason for his tardiness, continue to make him feel bad for things he had no control over. Never again. She had no say in his life now.

    A feeling of rage threatened to burble its way up, but he strangled it back into the dark place he choked all of those feelings down into. They wouldn¡¯t serve him now, and he had more control than that.

    ¡°You were late,¡± said the girl, her expression now incredulous.

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°To your ignition day,¡± she continued.

    ¡°Yes,¡± he repeated.

    ¡°Fool,¡± she muttered under her breath in a voice she probably believed was too quiet for him to hear. Then she seemed to make up her mind about something. ¡°Can you read?¡± She asked. The few people willing to get close enough to Leo to eavesdrop snickered at that.

    Leo took a deep breath as he stared into her eyes. His face a mask of calm, his mind waging a war with his emotions as he once more buried his feelings in that deep dark pit. He did not turn to glare at all the people with last names they received from families, and access to datapads of their own, filled with information from schools they could afford to attend. Instead, he answered the question.

    ¡°I am literate. Yes,¡± he said evenly. Genuinely proud that he¡¯d not allowed a hint of his feelings to leak into his voice.

    ¡°Don¡¯t move,¡± the healer said, storming away. When she returned, she was holding a simple tablet. It was a basic model, only able to send, store, and receive information, but he could read the title of the data-packet that she was pulling up. It was in info packet. For a moment, his curiosity, and giddiness at new information about the ignition process, and the incredible facilities nearly overtook his previous feelings. The girls next words were an unnecessary bucket of water on all of that.

    ¡°Your ignorance is dangerous, and disruptive. Fix it. And you will return this before you leave,¡± she said, placing the tablet into the bag with whatever food she¡¯d brought over earlier. Before she pulled away, she gripped his wrist, hard. ¡°Was I clear?¡± She asked, her smile tight and eyes hard.

    ¡°I understand,¡± Leo said. The pain so negligible in his experience that he didn¡¯t even need to suppress a wince

    ¡°Good,¡± she said, before turning and striding away.

    She might have his compliance, but he wouldn¡¯t allow her his rage. ¡®Any person capable of angering you becomes your master.¡¯ He quoted to himself. I will be my only master. He vowed, as he finally slumped to the floor to study and wait. Even if it was only in the sanctity of his own mind.

 Seven: Things Just out of Sight

    Seven:

    Leo was disappointed he didn¡¯t have a way to split his attention. It would¡¯ve made his life so much easier if he could concentrate on everything at once. The datapad, the ongoing ignition rituals, the mana around him. It didn¡¯t help that he had to make a concerted effort to avoid the stink eye the healer kept throwing at him. While he¡¯d always been excellent at multitasking, he knew his best insights came when he could devote his entire attention to a single process, a single activity, and before anything else, he needed to learn. His lack of information was leaving him at a dangerous disadvantage.

    He estimated he had at least another few hours before it would be his turn in one of the chambers ¨C if they even let him in. The healer wasn¡¯t the only one throwing looks at him.

    ¡®Well pardon me,¡¯ he thought, ¡®Next time I¡¯ll be sure to have my forearm explode when it¡¯s more convenient for everyone.¡¯ He resisted scoffing, knowing that the 3<sup>rd</sup> Circle cultivator at least would probably be able to hear him if he did. He wasn¡¯t interested in antagonizing these people with his existence any more than was strictly necessary.

    Technically, it was mandatory for every sapient citizen of the Coalition to be tested in an ignition ritual. It was part of one of the many agreements the fractious leaders of Earth signed when the Coalition had arrived. In fact, it was one of their core tenets that any who had potential be given the opportunity to train it. ¡®So that, together, all may grow.¡¯ A whole lot of BS, he thought. Nowhere in that propaganda did they mention that the opportunities would be equal, or exactly what ¡®grow together¡¯ meant. In a world where might made right, just how much your potential was allowed to grow was entirely based on who you knew and whether or not you were even given the opportunity to become powerful before you were supressed, with great prejudice, by the current powers that be.

    One did not disrupt the status quo lightly. The Stargazer clan was a prime example of this. Their history, a threat, masqueraded as a cautionary tale. Their story one of a woman, a 10<sup>th</sup> Circle cultivator who took a risk, a risk that failed, and because of how ¡®disruptive¡¯ the consequences were, she was ¡®punished¡¯. Her progression all but crippled, and her position within the collective given away, while she was demoted.

    For a cultivator, a 10<sup>th</sup> Circle at that, to be denied the opportunity to progress was all but a death sentence. Sure, it would take centuries to millennia depending on how talented the Lady Stargazer was, but to be denied that which came after the peak. That was a blow she may never recover from.

    Of course, while the powerful create history, it¡¯s the victors who write it, and Leo couldn¡¯t tell how much of the story was real, and how much was embellished for the sake of the narrative.

    Sure, some of the Coalition leadership probably, genuinely believed their propaganda, but unfortunately, just like the governments of old, the leadership was made up of people. People who had individual agendas and ideals. People who liked the power they had and weren¡¯t interested in sharing it. It was a sentiment Leo had never understood.

    Why wouldn¡¯t you share power? Sure, he understood being responsible about it, he¡¯d read enough history to know that power was as much a responsibility as it was a burden, and that sharing it should be done with care. Wasn¡¯t that supposed to be the whole purpose of the clans and sects, though? What he didn¡¯t get was why everyone was so insistent on supressing people out of the selfish desire to stay alone at the top. Why did everything have to be a zero-sum game?

    He¡¯d learned in one of his many forays through the Public Library that humans worked best as a cooperative species, that they had survived because they were able to band together, to work together, to thrive together. If a rising tide could lift all ships, why was everyone so focused on poking holes in everyone else¡¯s ship instead of rising together? He briefly imagined what could be accomplished under such a system. Then he ruthlessly crushed his juvenile ideals, and buried his foolish, impossible thoughts.

    There was one phrase that everyone knew, it was that ¡®One¡¯s Path to Immortality is Theirs, and Theirs Alone¡¯. Or some other configuration of the same sentiment. Why so many translated that to ¡®every path not one¡¯s own should be barred and those walking them crippled¡¯, he didn¡¯t understand. Perhaps someday, when he was powerful, he would. For now, though he knew one thing for certain. He was on his own.

    So, Leo had made a vow to himself long ago that he would never take for granted that which he did not know or could not do for himself, and that it would be through his own merit and hard work that he would ascend. He would not reject assistance, but he would allow nobody to carry him, because power gained on the backs of others was no true power. It was a weak, fragile thing that could only take him so far on a path that wasn¡¯t even his own.

    Things would be just great if everything was sunshine and roses. If all people held hands and sang songs together, and nobody was mean, or bad. The world was hard, and why couldn¡¯t everyone just be friends and get along, waah, waah. It wasn¡¯t reality, and unfortunately, he existed in reality. The hostility he could feel radiating from the people around him, and the throbbing in his body were the constant reminders of that. In a universe ruled by the strong, and the well connected, the only truth, the only justice, and the only liberation, was power, and the only way he¡¯d get it was the same way he¡¯d lived the rest of his life, on his own. And that was just fine with him.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    His ascension would be his alone. His power, his path, one of his choosing.

    His first step to gaining that power was right here in this room, and it began, not with the ignition ritual, but with information. In order to ascend, in order to gain power, he needed to understand just what was going on around him.

    He settled against the wall and powered on the datapad. The information the healer had loaded up was the first thing he saw, and he relaxed into the same state of alert concentration that he used when he eavesdropped on the school lectures. He was aware of what was around him, but fully immersed in what he was doing.

    It was in that active meditation that Leo began to feel something. Well, not something, but more everything? It began with a light prickling on his skin. At first, he thought his condition was acting up again, but it didn¡¯t feel quite right. This felt less like when he felt the mana raging inside his body and more like his body was reacting to the mana outside of it. Like being immersed in it allowed it to connect to him somehow.

    He concentrated harder on the sensation, and it felt like when he tried looking at those eye floaties he sometimes got. Like focusing more kept things just out of sight, or in this case, out of sense. He relaxed his focus again, allowing himself to simply exist within the dense ambient mana. It took a while, but eventually, the sensation returned. This time he just sat with it, let it be near him, another part of him. It felt similar to focusing on something in his periphery. He could feel it, feel all the mana around him, but by keeping it slightly out of focus, he was able to parse out more. It was in this state that Leo¡¯s world suddenly expanded.

    Like discovering taste, or smell, Leo discovered something that he could only describe as ¡®sight¡¯. ¡®Mana-sight¡¯ perhaps. It was how he imagined unpracticed, fuzzy, and imprecise echolocation might work.

    Mana was everywhere, in all life, in all things, like atoms or gravity, ever since the Rending, mana had become one of the fundamental building blocks of existence. And mana opened up the world to him, like a flower opening its petals for the first time. In an environment this mana dense everything became clear.

    Well, clear enough that he could make things out. It was like fuzzy shapes to his senses. He was visualizing the room by using mana density and, feedback? Echoes? Yes, echoes fit. Ambient mana bounced around, impacting things, and being¡­ absorbed, Leo thought, by others. Then there were the stationary masses of mana. They all had different densities and different shapes, though he could see similarities in many. People, he realized, some of those masses were people. The brightest masses were the cultivators ¨C something he checked with his normal vision ¨C though the mundane youths around the room contained mana as well, though it was smaller, and less refined?

    Then there were the ignition chambers themselves, for some reason they were blank spots in his new ¡®vision¡¯, though he couldn¡¯t tell why. He could clearly see them with his eyes, but in his mana-sight they were just, empty spaces where he knew the chambers were supposed to be.

    He stared at the chambers, but all he could see was the opaque crystalline like glass that he had no name for.

    Finally, he decided to try focusing on a person. Perhaps the healer since she already seemed to dislike him. What then, could be the harm? He found her easily, his completely mundane, animal instincts telling him that someone was glaring daggers into the side of his head. It was when he tried to actively ¡®look¡¯ deeper than the surface, though, that she reacted. It wasn¡¯t subtle, the way she whipped her head around to face the chambers and furrowed her brows, her expression thunderous as her eyes jumped from technician to technician.

    Leo pulled away, his shock pulling him out of the trance like state he¡¯d entered. Dangerous, he thought as he did exactly as he had been doing. Not freezing, or tensing, or changing anything, really, about his behaviour. He continued as he was. He¡¯d learned long ago that the best way to be implicated in anything ¨C weather justified or not ¨C was to react. So, he didn¡¯t.

    Despite how much he desperately wanted to explore this new sense, he knew enough to know he didn¡¯t know enough to be playing around with it. At least not actively, he decided. This was not a safe place to explore, and besides, he had something else to focus on.

    Turning his attention back to the datapad, time passed as he read through the ¡®assigned reading¡¯ and began to skim through any information the device contained on mana, sects, clans, and life after ignition. Unsurprisingly, there was a lot.

    He highly doubted he¡¯d be able to get a favourable placement in any of the Earth sects, let alone be invited off-world, so he needed to be prepared. He needed to gather as much information on mana and the world of cultivators as he could, because when he did ignite his core ¨C and he would ignite his core ¨C he knew he would be facing a painfully uphill battle to even just get the resources he¡¯d need to move past core formation and progress to the 1<sup>st</sup> Circle. But difficult paths didn¡¯t scare him, painful paths even less so.

    Leo knew pain.

    He couldn¡¯t remember a day without it, without the tingling ache and the burn, without the pulsing and the pressure. With that came the knowledge of how to manage discomfort, how to block out emotions and even feelings, to some extent. So, he did something he¡¯d been doing for a long, long time; since his earliest memories, since he was forced to embrace his relationship with pain ¨C the most consistent relationship he¡¯d ever had.

    Leo knew how to manage pain, how to drift off to a place in his mind where pain didn¡¯t matter, where his body didn¡¯t matter. All that mattered was that which was inside him, and that part of him raged, that part of him rejoiced.

    Right now, that part of him was saying that the mana here was good. Really good. It told him to pay attention, to look up from his notebook, to sit up in his corner and watch. Not with his eyes, but with that part of him that sensed beyond. The part of him he¡¯d always experienced in some form or another, but that he¡¯d only tapped into now that the mana was so dense. He felt as though if he didn¡¯t embrace the sensation in its entirety he would regret it. So, he embraced it.

    He did not regret it.

 Eight: Anticipatory

    Eight:

    All the people in the room were content to ignore him, which was just as well. Leo preferred it to the looks of disgust, contempt, and, in some cases, curiosity that may have interfered in his meditation.

    At this moment he was not simply present in this room; he was not an idealistic youth, or an ignition ritual hopeful, or some Low City orphan with implausible aspirations. Right now, he was energy, he was mana. It felt like a part of him ¨C an out-of-reach part ¨C had connected and attuned to the world around, and to that ephemeral energy; that which reached into the beyond.

    He was both present in body, but also entirely divorced from it. He was a part of the world, not just a witness or a participant in it. He could feel the energy; so vast, so potent, so freely available, just sitting there. It was silent, but active. No, that wasn¡¯t the right term. The energy was¡­ Anticipatory. He felt as though the mana was ready, almost hopeful for him to take it, to embrace it and pull it into himself or push it away. It wanted to be used or left to its own devices. To act, to react, or to sit and observe. It simply wanted to do. It was potential; pure, unmitigated potential, and it felt good.

    It felt right.

    He had felt this before, once or twice, but never so powerfully, and never so easily. It generally happened when his pain became so unbearable his mind simply shut down, pulling him away and letting him drift. It had also happened when his mind was so full or so busy it felt as though it would splinter apart into little pieces and never recover.

    Coming back to himself Leo took notes in his own shorthand, a language he¡¯d invented for himself after the time somebody stole his previous notebook and proceeded to relentlessly mock his dreams, observations, and aspirations.

    It hadn¡¯t been a huge loss, considering his perfect memory - ¡®eidetic,¡¯ one of the books had called it ¨C but it had forced him to recreate the journal. To intentionally recall and relive memories he would rather remain forever forgotten. An effusion of feelings meant for a single moment in time, memorialized on paper, in ink. His memory was both a blessing and a curse because nothing went away. Not even the things that would¡¯ve been better off left forgotten.

    That had been another time he¡¯d sunk into this sort of all consuming meditation. For Leo, the nice thing about reaching that state of mind was that pain seemed to dull. No, that wasn¡¯t correct. It was as though pain became secondary. The pulsing, tingling, burning in his body; the aching, crushing, rending emotions and memories. All of it seemed to finally, if momentarily, call a truce. It was like all the things that plagued him were out of reach. Leo was elsewhere and the torment wouldn¡¯t reach him even if it tried.

    Of course, it worked in reverse as well, dulling positive feelings like elation, compassion, and admiration leaving only neutral or dampened feelings and reactions in their place.

    He also never knew how long he spent in that state; picking apart memories and feelings, attuning to the energy and feeling as though it was speaking back, breathing deeply and settling into the energies of the world. It normally took a sudden shock or cacophony of sensations and noise to break him out of it. Or, apparently, mana shifting aggressively or suddenly enough could rouse him as well. It was the first time Leo had experienced this, and it made contemplate things he never had before. He¡¯d make notes and look into it later. Right now, he wanted to know what had roused the mana.

    Blinking open eyes he hadn¡¯t realised he¡¯d closed, Leo looked around the room. There seemed to be a projector type setup Leo didn¡¯t recognize on the far wall ¨C perhaps it was some form of illusion or magical hologram? There, a name was being projected.

    ¡°Congratulations, Kinsley May,¡± the nameless head technician called out the name. ¡°Our first ignited core of the group. All stand and pay your respects. There is a new cultivator in your midst.¡± Leo didn¡¯t want to stand and clap ¨C not for this girl.

    ¡®Kinsley May¡¯ had pale skin, brown hair, and grey eyes. She was about his age, average height, maybe 165 centimetres (5ft4), and she had a look about her ¨C a sort of passive sneer that told anyone with a smidge of social awareness, that she was better than you. Her expression of smug superiority would make one think she knew this was going to happen. That her ignition was, in fact, an expected outcome, and that anybody who didn¡¯t bow down now would be remembered.

    This May girl looked like too many people Leo had known before. They were people he had been glad to pretend he¡¯d never known and never see again. Many of those people had caused him pain.

    However, Mr. 3<sup>rd</sup> Circle, nameless, bossman had made an order, not a request. Stand and clap for the self-important baby cultivator. It didn¡¯t matter to the powers-that-be that standing right now would be painful and taxing for Leo. In his limited experience, cultivators had never needed a reason to take offence, and the look the man was giving Leo told him that if he didn¡¯t rise, and quickly, he would take offense. So, Leo would stand, and clap.

    ¡®Such a good little doggy,¡¯ Leo thought, setting his jaw. He kept his face carefully neutral s the sensations he¡¯d been blocking out came rushing back to him. ¡®Ouch,¡¯ he thought. ¡®Ouch, ouch, ouch,¡¯ he silently chanted as he stood with the rest of the young hopefuls and clapped.

    The May girl sneered out at those she deemed lesser than her, already adopting the attitude he¡¯d come to expect from so many cultivators. As she was led away by some attendants on hand, he couldn¡¯t help but feel just a little bit bad for whichever sect or clan had the displeasure of recruiting her.

    Putting her out of his mind as he slid back down the wall, Leo was annoyed that he¡¯d missed actively observing the entire ignition process. Though, he had a feeling the process had something to do with the intense fluctuations he¡¯d felt before being pulled out of his meditation. He promised himself he¡¯d pay better attention to the next rounds so that he¡¯d catch it the moment another core ignited.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    In an unusually impulsive move, Leo tried to dive back into his mana-sight. He wanted to brush against the mana around the new cultivator. He knew that unlike trained cultivators, new cultivators had a difficult time perceiving or controlling their auras. He hadn¡¯t had any opportunities to observe a newly ignited person before, and though he wasn¡¯t reckless enough to try and slip inside her aura like he¡¯d tried with the healer, he was curious as to what the mana around her might tell him. Feeling at a distinct disadvantage, even among his supposed ¡°peers¡± he wanted ¨C needed ¨C all the information he could get.

    It took some time for him to slip back into the quasi-meditative state he needed to use mana-sight, but he managed it before the May girl had left the room. The brief glimpse of the mana around her didn¡¯t tell him much, especially as he was simply observing instead of trying to actively manipulate his new sense like he¡¯d done with the healer. However, the somewhat erratic activity of some of the mana around the girl had him making a few hypotheses that he was quick to jot down in the margins of his notebook.

    As the May girl was escorted out using a different door than all the people who had failed their ignition, Leo reminded himself to stay alert and aware enough that he could catch it the next time a core was ignited. He didn¡¯t hold out much hope, as he knew it was possible that Kinsley May would be the only other person to ignite their core the whole day. Even if another person managed it, Leo figured he¡¯d be left waiting a long time

    He wasn¡¯t. After only two more rounds of unlucky young people leaving the chambers just as mortal as when they¡¯d entered, one of the younger kids ¨C 12 or 13 at the oldest ¨C had their core ignite. This time, Leo had been paying attention, passively monitoring the ebb and flow of mana into and out of the chambers. Then it happened, and to Leo, it was beautiful.

    It was natural geometry, art in nature. It was that flower, once more, unfolding in front of him. He needed to see more. Stretching his senses past anything he¡¯d ever tried before, Leo watched, waited, and held his breath as he felt something fundamentally shift in the third ignition chamber.

    What was most shocking to him wasn¡¯t the shift itself, but the realization that nobody else seemed to be reacting to it. It was like, suddenly, every bit of energy that wanted to be fire, and light travelled rapidly towards the chamber. Not just mana, but what felt like fundamental concepts were drawn in. They floated in happy, joyful circuits as they drifted towards their destination. The 3<sup>rd</sup> chamber.

    All the light, fire ¨C and what Leo guessed was heat ¨C mana around the ignition chamber that didn¡¯t make it into the chamber itself were still more animated than the other types of mana he could observe. It was surreal, and incredible, and Leo found himself unconsciously mirroring the jubilation of the little motes of mana, a barely there smile forming on his lips.

    The slight tugging of rarely used muscles brought Leo out of his reverie. Even so, it was difficult for him to tamp down on his instincts. Reality just felt so real right now. Everything was brighter, sharper, more. He wanted to scoot forward; to lean in close and get a better look at the chamber, at the mana, at the emerging cultivator. It was a struggle to restrain himself as he tried to discreetly figure out what was happening to the figure inside of the chamber.

    He knew he lacked the knowledge, experience, and control necessary to understand even how much he wasn¡¯t seeing. Just how much of that was his ignorance, and how much was the chamber being warded or obscured somehow, he didn¡¯t know. It was even possible that some mechanism of ignition itself prevented him for perceiving what was happening; a natural defense mechanism within the body, or the unformed core that stopped him from getting a proper peek at the process. He just didn¡¯t know enough to really begin to say. A common problem he seemed to be running into more and more frequently, and one that he hoped to resolve with time, training, and an ignited core of his own.

    His conviction flared once more as he promised himself that he¡¯d get the answers some day. Instead of dwelling on what he lacked, he reminded himself to be grateful he¡¯d witnessed what little bit of the phenomenon he was able to.

    ¡®Memorize. Theorize. Synthesize. Realize¡¯ he chanted in his mind. It was a mantra he¡¯d created for moments like these. When his mind became chaotic in its fixation, or refused to let go of an idea, often getting him into trouble. Breaking it down into steps always helped him focus. So, that was what he did. He began with active memorization, recalling in vivid detail the gathering of the elements.

    Leo replayed the moment again and again in his mind, combing over it more meticulously than the caretakers at the home during the lice incident. Then he began to theorize.

    The ignition had been like a coalescence of mana that he assumed flowed into the body, or maybe directly into the core? It hadn¡¯t felt like an entirely passive process. Something about the mana seemed to spur the core or the cultivator to react, to attract the mana. Or maybe it was the other way around? Maybe, the ignition was a reaction to something about the core, or something about the cultivator. Was it something they were, or something they did? So many questions, too few answers. Answers he wouldn¡¯t get in time.

    Instead of annoyance, or disappointment, he focused on the next step. A synthesis of his ideas. He was focused on the information he had, and how he could use it to help him when it was his turn in the chamber. If the process was somehow active, how could that help him, what did that tell him. What could he do?

    ¡°Pull,¡± he mumbled under his breath, his voice less than a whisper. When it was his turn, he needed to pull. He nodded to himself as he scribbled notes, theories and ideas into his notebook.

    Pull to where, his core? A cultivator¡¯s core was neither completely physical nor entirely corporeal. He knew that. Everyone ¨C even poor orphans with their subpar, state-funded educations ¨C knew that. So how was he supposed to just, ¡®pull¡¯. Also, where and what exactly should he be pulling?

    That kid had seemed to just attract not just fire and light mana, but whatever other concepts came with it. What was Leo supposed to do?

    He allowed himself another moment of worrying before he reminded himself that he could only do what he could with what he had, and to keep his focus on that which he could control. Even when he didn¡¯t exactly know ¡®how¡¯

    ¡°Pull,¡± he told himself. ¡°Don¡¯t think too hard, just pull.¡± He made a note in his book, nodded his head once, and pushed off the wall, glad that his fatigue and soreness was abating. He could swear he was recovering much faster than he usually did. Even without eating the second food bar the healer had given him.

    As they all stood and clapped for the kid being ushered off by the attendants, Leo thought about the final step. Realization, the step where thoughts became actions. He promised himself that that if the mana didn¡¯t come to him, he would pull it. He would drag it into his core and make the thing ignite. He would be a cultivator. The mana would obey.

 Nine: Power Doesnt Come for Free

    Nine:

    Finally, it was time.

    It took several more hours before Leo, and the three final youths left in the room with him, were ushered into the ignition chambers. Unfortunately, his discomfort had begun to increase again. Something about this place had his condition acting up, even without his body being significantly injured, stressed, or agitated. It was something about the mana density, he believed.

    He''d been forced to stop exploring his mana sight in favour of less taxing concentration on the datapad. It was no great loss ¨C there had been no more ignitions ¨C and with the pain throughout his body slowly increasing he had settled into a sort of passive meditation as he worked to find an equilibrium in the agony.

    He didn¡¯t realize just how much time had passed with him settled in one place, devouring everything he could find, until they finally called him up. He groaned as he peeled himself away from the wall that he was resting against, grabbing his pack and swinging it onto his back as he stepped up to an empty chamber. It was the one with the least objectionable technician. A woman a few inches shorter than himself with dark skin and braided hair coiled neatly into a bun at the base of her head.

    ¡°If you were paying any attention, you''ve probably heard the spiel said hundreds of times by now,¡± the woman said her voice businesslike but not unkind. ¡°The process is simple. Enter the chamber, then strip down. There will be a mana crystal inside that mirrors this one here.¡± She pointed to where a silver white crystal about the same size as his thumbnail was almost completely camouflaged in the opaque material of the ignition chamber. ¡°Once you are completely bare press the crystal and it''ll give us a signal to begin.

    ¡°What will probably happen is absolutely nothing. That is common. You will stand in there for the required 30 seconds, nothing with happen, then you will leave. If you do feel your core begin to ignite, as unlikely as it is, you are entitled to an additional 30 seconds. Afterwards you will press the crystal again. Then, the door will open, and you will be escorted away for either recovery and core stabilization or you¡¯ll be led back to out to normal, mortal life. Do you have any questions before we begin?¡±

    Her face was a stern mask, but with his new insight Leo could feel the exhaustion and impatience hiding just under the surface. He hesitated for only a moment before deciding that potentially antagonizing her was worth the information he might gain in exchange.

    ¡°How do I know if my core is igniting?¡± Leo asked.

    ¡°The sensation is different for everyone, but you will not be able to miss it,¡± she said.

    ¡°What if I do not feel my core ignite within the first 30 seconds, am I still entitled to the additional 30 seconds?¡± Leo asked. The woman paused briefly before responding.

    ¡°Yes, should you so choose.¡± She gave Leo a pointed look that clearly warned him that he¡¯d better not choose.

    ¡°Now, it''s unlikely your core will spark, but if it does, we¡¯ll be able to read the fluctuation in the chamber and track your progression from this tablet.¡± She held up the sleek data pad that contained charts and metrics that Leo didn¡¯t understand. ¡°Once you enter the chamber, try and focus on your core. Meditate, and concentrate on the movement of the mana around you. If your core ignites, you¡¯ll be sent off to orientation,¡± she said. ¡°Anything else?¡± She asked. In response to his blank look, the woman gave him a small, smile.

    The moment she felt herself smiling, the expression died on her face. Her amusement tempered as her eyes darted around the room. She only relaxed when she realized nobody was paying them any attention.

    Rather than paying him attention, it felt to Leo like people were actively ignoring them. Backs were turned, gazes cast away, people wholly uninterested in the diseased orphan, and whatever kind of pariah this woman was. If Leo¡¯s senses were correct the woman was a second circle cultivator, and looking as young as she did, it meant she had to be both talented, and young, perhaps no more than 3 or 4 years older than him.

    ¡°Are you ready?¡± The woman asked, catching Leo¡¯s gaze. Something passed between them then. As the woman looked at Leo, really looked at him something like sympathy sparked in her eyes.

    This was a child, on his ignition day. Not some wild mana beast, or a troublemaker, or the entitled scion of some sect or clan. Just a kid who was about to have his life changed forever.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

    Leo returned the sentiment with a nod, and a resigned shrug. Breathing slowly, he could feel as his bones began to ache from being in proximity to so much raw mana.

    The woman leaned forward, her voice lowering, and Leo instinctively leaned in to mirror her. ¡°Listen, kid. If your core sparks ¨C and I''m not saying it will, but if it does ¨C just remember that the more mana you can cultivate in the beginning the stronger your foundation will be. Power doesn''t come for free so take every scrap you can get. Understand?¡±

    ¡°I understand,¡± said Leo. It almost felt like the endorsement he needed to implement his ¡®pull¡¯ strategy.

    ¡°Is everyone ready?¡± The voice of the nameless head technician rang out across the room, as it had hundreds of times already that day. With confirmation from all of the techs, the chambers opened.

    Leo¡¯s plan hadn''t changed, he was still going to pull for all he was worth, but now there was a conviction behind it, a sense of almost surety that seemed to settle into his centre and spread throughout his body. He would seize this ritual with both hands, and he would ignite his core. Even if it meant he had to sacrifice the rest of himself to do it.

    The world, the universe, the veil would not simply give him power. No, being handed things for free was never how his life worked out. At this point, the idea of simply being given power was anathema. Baked into his being, through experience after experience, Leo had come to terms with one of the fundamental truths in his life: Those who needed power rarely had it, those who had power rarely shared it, and those who strove for power would only get it if they reached out and took it. To accomplish his goals, Leo couldn¡¯t simply sit by and wait for power to fall into his lap, or for some kind soul to hand him everything he¡¯d need. Leo would have to become a taker, someone who strove and fought, and reached out to take that which they desired. He would pull for all he was worth. His determination firm, his body on fire, he stepped into the chamber and shut the door behind him.

    The seam on the door was so flawless, it integrated into the rest of the chamber such that the doorway itself seemed to disappear. Wasting no time Leo placed his backpack in front of him, stepped out of his shoes and quickly stripped down, folding each article of clothing before placing them beside his backpack, directly in front of his now bare feet. He ran a hand through his curly mop of unruly hair, glad for the clip in his bag that he often used to hold the too long strands back from his eyes.

    He''d read the data-pack and knew he had maybe 30 or 40 more seconds before the ritual was activated. So, he didn¡¯t worry about the time it took to rummage around in his bag and find the small wooden claw-clip that would pull the thick hair away from his face and ears, preventing distraction and helping him to focus when the time came. The clip itself had been one of the few gifts he¡¯d received during Christmas at one of the better foster homes.

    They¡¯d been an odd pairing; a stern elderly woman in her 90¡¯s, and her husband, almost 30 years her junior, from what he¡¯d remembered. Both had been alive before the Rending, and the wife had loved to tell him stories about how the world was before. That Christmas, she had deftly braided his curls, and all stretched out, his hair was nearly down to his waist. The woman had simply gathered everything up and clipped it back, presenting the carved treasure as a present. The husband had promised to teach him woodcarving when Leo had begged. He¡¯d been taken away from that home after only 5 months, when the wife got sick, but they¡¯d been some of the best five months of his life. Clipping his hair back always reminded him of good things and better people.

    He didn''t know if the clip would have any effect on the mana around him, but he figured if it was a problem, his hair would be just as much of a problem, considering it was all just dead cells anyway. In which case, it would be foolish to worry about, and he¡¯d be better off centering himself for whatever came next.

    When he felt ready, he let his perception expand. He¡¯d become somewhat proficient with mana-sight over the past hours and had at least learned a way to sort of toggle it on and off, as well as give it direction, focus, and a rudimentary form of cloaking. It was mostly just him very slowly increasing intensity, but it was a work in progress. Reaching out Leo scoured the inside of the chamber for anything out of place, he was intensely curious about how the ritual functioned, and anything he learned here may be useful later.

    He was gratified to find one of his theories proven correct. There were sigils carved into the walls. Whatever had cloaked them from the outside obviously wasn¡¯t as well obscured on the inside, if it was present at all. It was possible, likely even, that Leo was unable to perceive any of the runes that were cloaked from both within, and without, however this felt like tremendous progress. Even more exciting, however, was the nearly invisible little mana slotted just above the area of the chamber that was used to open and close the door.

    It wasn¡¯t the unique phenomenon that caught his attention, well not only that, but the way the crystal was interacting with the ambient mana had him transfixed. Something about the crystal attracted mana, and all the mana that entered, stayed entered. Nothing left the crystal. It was as though the crystal was storing it somehow.

    Before he could study the crystal more, he felt thick gouts of manna began to pour into the chamber. Tapping into the mana, Leo pushed his ¡®sight¡¯, tracing the tide back to where he knew the Coalition leyline underneath the building, and the reason the entire compound had been placed here.

    Letting idle musings drift away, Leo began to pull, quickly collecting all the mana that was being flooded into the chamber and funneling it into himself.

 Ten: Reforged in Power

    Ten:

    At first, he didn''t know exactly what he was pulling. All he knew was that his intuition was telling him to keep going. His intuition was yet to lead him astray, so without hesitation, Leo obeyed, pulling, and pulling for all he was worth. It was that primal instinct that sometimes said the knowledge was meant to find him. It was that incomplete place inside him where ideas beyond his imagination whispered lullabies to him on particularly quiet nights. It was a secret place inside himself, a hidden something he''d never dared to speak of aloud, just in case they called him crazy and locked him away, or even worse believed him.

    The truly insane were treated forever as children. Pampered, coddled, and left with absolutely no agency. But those who piqued the interest of the powerful, the curious, or the greedy, well those people were taken. If not by the sects, then by the Coalition, the state, or even more dangerous captors. He''d seen the broken husks that were the results of the perverse attentions of those ¡®worse¡¯ captors.

    Leo would sooner die then end up in their clutches. That or become powerful. Insanely powerful. Powerful enough that even the attention of the so-called immortals, those cultivators that have ascended past the 10<sup>th</sup> Circle and called themselves divine, that even they, with all their power would not cross him lightly.

    As the chamber filled, and Leo began to pull, the pain he¡¯d been feeling earlier spread like an infection, ratcheting his discomfort up to new heights. It felt like instead of just his core igniting his entire body was on fire. Then the fire became acid, and that became plasma. Pure, unadulterated, burning agony had his body bulging and swelling like cold rubber stretched too far.

    Leo felt his skin split open in jagged cracks. He could feel his blood trickling down his arms, warming his skin, and making him want to itch and shake at the same time because the tickling sensation contrasted aggressively with the feeling of being slowly torn apart. Cracked and oozing like he was a fractured dam, Leo endured, leaking and crumbling under the pressure and the ever-increasing onslaught. It hurt. It hurt everywhere. Yet within that pain he felt the power.

    Mana flowed into him just as quickly as it entered the chamber and Leo did what he¡¯d promised himself he would, he pulled. All too soon the pressure eased, the chamber began to feel empty, and even through the agony Leo knew that this was not enough. So, he pulled, and he pulled, and he stretched his senses back to the source. Leo reached for where the manna was flowing into the chamber from, reached past the artificial barrier preventing him from getting that which he needed to survive this ignition.

    It wasn¡¯t just his core igniting. Leo was being reforged in power, in essence. His entire being, from the physical and beyond, was taking in the power like a dry, dessert riverbed that has finally felt the rain. Leo soaked in the mana he found in abundance at the leylines, a small tendril of himself snaking out like a straw and tapping directly from the source.

    This time, when he pulled, it was not a trickle, or a shower, Leo brought forth a torrent. Mana, wild and abundant, ripped up through the earth and into the chamber. The tiny ignition chamber crackled with energy. Outside of himself he could almost smell the energy and taste the power. He was so connected with the world around him that he felt instead of heard the dull vibrations of someone banging on the outside of the chamber. Runes flared in response, preventing the people outside from interrupting the ritual. Unperturbed, and distant, Leo memorized acknowledged what was going on before focusing back on the world around him. He couldn''t be distracted right now. Not when he was in the eye of the storm, of the torrent of mana that seemed to be pouring into him like he was a black hole.

    He needed more. More mana, more power. More! So, he pulled.

    Like a well-trained puppy, eagerly obeying a simple command, the mana responded to Leo with fervor. His urgency seemed to spur it on as he felt himself being made whole. The parts of him that had been broken and re-broken so many times, the parts of him that even today had fractured and shattered, the small fragments of bone that had never quite mended right, the ligaments and muscles that had been supernaturally torn so many times. Every broken piece of him ignored or poorly fixed by negligent healers and caretakers; those bits of him that had needed to be mended, and re-mended because of neglectful handling, those bits of him that were passed over so often that they were mangled as much from inattention as anything else. Right now, in this chamber, it was as though all of it was being erased.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    No, not erased. In the deluge of power, he was Reforged.

    Leo kept pulling.

    He didn''t know if it was minutes or hours later until he was finished. What he did know was that the ignition chamber had been sucked entirely dry of mana, and he¡¯d been forced to tap into the source, into the leyline, to ensure he would have enough raw power to fully ignite his core without completely sacrificing his body.

    He could feel the raw mana even now. It was a pulsing, undulating, ¡®something¡¯ that he could feel was mirrored, if slightly different, in his naval, right where his solar plexus was.

    His core ¨C and he knew it was his core although it wasn¡¯t completely formed yet ¨C was blazing with potential. Leo was officially a core formation cultivator.

    More than that, he felt like his entire everything was just brimming with mana. Leo felt strong, powerful, and for the first time in his life, Leo felt whole. It was exhilarating, Leo was jubilant. He wanted to jump and shout and twirl and run. He wanted to bang his arms and legs against something solid just to reassure himself that whichever limb was abused wouldn''t flare up in that familiar burning, searing pain he¡¯d lived with all his life.

    His complete elation, his utter focus and insistence on containing his senses allowed him to forget the world. If only for a few seconds, Leo basked in the ignorance of the world around him as he dressed slowly, languorously, and one article at a time. He stretched his arms over his head and felt the flex and give of well worked muscles as he engaged them.

    Immediately, there was a difference in what he could perceive. His eyes took in the almost follicle like texture of the denim that made-up his jeans. So many different variations of blue that was integrated into one colour. He felt the rough stretchy texture of his socks as he pulled them up along his feet and to his calves. He wiggled each toe as he stuck it in his ¡®good¡¯ runners. The beat-up everyday pair of shoes sat at the bottom of his rucksack near his one pair of boots.

    It was as he was reaching up, marveling in the ease at which he slung such a heavy bag over his shoulder that he realized the little silver white crystal he¡¯d noticed before had almost completely dimed. Actually, almost everything except his ignition chamber was completely dim.

    Leo pushed at the door to the chamber and realized just how limited his mortal view of world had been from the reality around him. While still surrounded by the nearly opaque walls of the chamber, Leo made a point of sweeping the outside of the chamber.

    While he may not have liked the other youths or the technicians, he had grown used to their presence. When he pushed his mana sight out, he became disconcerted when he realized that the room was empty. There were no technicians, no healers, no hopeful, disappointed, or elated youth coming out of their own chambers. Instead, there was only darkness. No light was present, save for the artificial green glow of the sign above the door that read

    ¡®IGNITION ROOM¡¯

    Open | Closed

    in blocky, boxy lettering.

    Leaning against that door was a woman Leo had never seen before. She radiated no power, and lacked the distinctive aura of a cultivator. Yet she also didn¡¯t register as a living being. She definitely didn¡¯t feel like any of the non-ignited mortals had felt.

    The woman had distinctly hawklike features, piercing blue-green eyes, high sharp cheekbones, and a smile that seemed as straight and unyielding as the seam of a beak on a bird-of-prey. Yet for all of that, her obviously avian, predatory qualities did not detract from her supernatural beauty.

    Powerful, Leo thought. This woman was a predator, and the look in her eyes told Leo that to this woman thought of him as nothing more than easy prey.

    ¡°You''ll be coming with me,¡± she said. It was a statement, not a question. Leo wasn¡¯t necessarily opposed to going with the obviously powerful woman. Honestly, he simply didn¡¯t have enough information to be. However, he was also aware that based on the absence of the other technicians, this woman was as much a liability to him as they may have been an asset.

    While Leo debated with himself, the woman kept speaking. ¡°Don''t worry,¡± she said. ¡°Your secret is safe.¡± Her voice a higher pitched than Leo had assumed, it made her next words incongruent with the soft, delicate femineity she was exuding. ¡°I killed them all.¡±

 Eleven: POV â€“ Malia

    Eleven:

    ~~ POV ¨C Malia ~~

    10<sup>th</sup> Circle cultivator Malia Stargazer¡­ was bored. It was in that boredom that she nearly missed her chance. Had she not been diligently and consistently training for this specific moment; she may well have been too late.

    The instant the alarm blared on it was shut off by the finely honed reflexes of the millennia old existence. Quick reflexes, knowing exactly where the button was, getting there before anyone else even realized what had happened, then immediately sending out a report that ¡®nothing was wrong!¡¯ she was simply testing for glitches in the system. It needn''t be anything more than a blip on the radar, even to other 10th circle cultivators. Her eccentricities were already well known enough that it was unlikely anyone would make a fuss, and those who might would be forced to chalk it up to an error in the programming, considering that barely anyone even knew what the alert meant in the first place.

    The light flared, and almost before the message had even registered in ship''s system, she had slammed the false alarm button and turned it off. She¡¯d moved fast enough that even the other Seats didn¡¯t have a chance to comprehend what was happening.

    This was her chance. She¡¯d given up hope considering the odds of it happening were about one in a quadrillion. In fact, despite the odds, in the history of the universe this had literally yet to happened. But just in case, she had held on to the hope, and it had paid off. The laws of reality stated that technically anything could happen, and since anything could happen, she had kept her options open for just such an opportunity. Now, that 1/1,000,000,000,000,000 hope was about to pay off. Malia Stargazer, Eye of the Seventh Seat, Administrator of the newly integrated Milky Way galaxy, was about to become the only person in the known universe to possess an unregistered nascent demigod.

    In truth, Malia almost didn¡¯t comprehend it herself. Her mind whirled as she spun around in the captain¡¯s chair of the command centre in the tiny spacecraft that functioned as her residence for this punishment posting.

    Sure, the councillors said it was ¡®a great honour¡¯ to be given jurisdiction over a section of the ¡®Milky Way¡¯ galaxy, to be given administrative privileges over a Nascent Sapient World. But a nascent world was just that, a nascent world. This was no high-tier world flooded with mana and opportunity. This world barely even counted as being ignited, and Malia hadn¡¯t been given sole control of the recently ignited celestial body.

    Instead, it was a position she was forced to share with children. Cultivators barely emerging into their power. 7<sup>th</sup> and 8<sup>th</sup> circles, even one weak and pathetic 9<sup>th</sup> circle. One of her fellow administrators had yet to live an entire century, and still she was being made to share a position with these children who were still on their milk teeth. For them, this assignment was just baby food on the way to their eventual permanent appointment. Yet here she was, a 10<sup>th</sup> circle cultivator, confined to a galaxy that had been exposed to mana introduced to mana for almost less time than her youngest child had been alive.

    In this universe her cultivation would stagnate; her dao would not develop, and the higher-ups knew it. 1,000 years in stasis, that was what she had expected.

    That was simply ¡®the cost of ambition¡¯. That was what the Council member had said. But would a cultivator without ambition even be a moderately successful one? Who could embark on the journey of cultivation without taking any risks? Yet, instead of being praised for her ingenuity, for pushing the boundaries, for her innovation, she was punished.

    Through no fault of her own, there were casualties. It wouldn¡¯t have even mattered if they weren¡¯t ¡®important¡¯ casualties.

    Malia had checked, then checked again. She¡¯d made sure. She¡¯d double and triple overseen all the ledgers that dictated who was aboard. She knew that she hadn¡¯t brought anyone aboard the vessel that could be deemed as ¡®Council critical¡¯. However, AFTER the fact, the Council had voted. Those vaunted existences with fully realized dao. Those walking deities. Those Councillors who had made it beyond the 10<sup>th</sup> circle; they had unilaterally decided that the randoms she¡¯d brought on the trip were SO important, the losses warranted a punishment.

    Her punishment.

    Whatever the Council demanded, the people obeyed. For not even a 10<sup>th</sup> circle could stand up to a god.

    But she knew who could, or, what could.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

    ¡°Demigod,¡± she whispered. A nascent-demigod had awakened on this backwater, nothing, useless, mana-deprived, punishment-posting of a planet. It was impossible, inconceivable, incomprehensible¡­ and yet¡­ and yet. Here she was.

    ¡°Ship Intelligence, designation Angel, prepare for immediate teleportation at the following coordinates,¡± Malia pinged, keying in those exact coordinates as she spoke. She would be arriving in exactly the area where the anomaly had occurred. She didn¡¯t even need to bypass any anti-teleportation arrays because the child (the baby-deity) had shown up in a Council facility.

    Her stream of thoughts, and subsequent actions had taken less than seconds. Everything happened so quickly, at the speed of a 10<sup>th</sup> Circle cultivator, the AI had difficulty processing the changes that had been rapidly, and incautiously initiated.

    The AI glitched. So many competing priorities and requests overloading the systems. In her haste, Malia, so caught up in her pursuit of the anomaly, didn¡¯t notice.

    ¡°Angel. Now,¡± demanded the excited cultivator. Silently self-correcting, the system responded.

    ¡°Request accepted. Initiating space-to-ground transfer,¡± said the ship¡¯s AI.

    ¡°Angel,¡± said the cultivator. ¡°Off the books, yeah?¡±

    ¡°As previously agreed upon, all requested actions will be passed through the Council in adherence with filter designation ¨C¡±

    Before the ship AI could complete their statement, Malia did something she had never even contemplated doing before. She entered the override code. The code even the Council didn¡¯t know she knew.

    They called themselves divinities, those who had touched upon the truths of the world, but they were not omniscient. Malia would take pride in showing those vaunted beings exactly how wrong they were to humiliate her.

    She was Malia Stargazer, first of her name. 10<sup>th</sup> Circle cultivator, Purveyor of Worlds, Seeker of Silent Truths, and Whisperer of Quiet Secrets.

    She would get her due, and she¡¯d do it using the prize she had just found on this backwater, nothing of a planet. This planet they¡¯d stuck her to.

    But first, she needed to collect him. Malia would give him to her son, Julius, only for a little while. It would be a good cover, she decided, while she did what needed doing in order to nurture the future powerhouse.

    ¡°A couple years,¡± she mused aloud.

    Her son, Julius was under a century old, and still understood mortals. Yes, the child, the baby-demigod would be honoured, she was sure. He had no clue just how precious he was. If he was igniting in a council facility Mali knew he¡¯d have no clue about the world of cultivation, and would be overjoyed to be given attention by any cultivator of decent rank and station, let alone a 3<sup>rd</sup> (bordering on 4<sup>th</sup> circle) like her Julius.

    She could bend the baby demigod, she was positive. A 10<sup>th</sup> circle giving anyone the time of day would make them pliant. Grateful. The kid would be excited. A nascent demigod who had simply awakened into the open with no backing outside of perhaps the ever-watchful gaze of the heavens? Truly, the Veil had blessed her this day.

    It took a few moments for her to reconstitute her body on the surface of the newly integrated planet Terra. The planet the natives called Earth.

    ¡®Primitives,¡¯ she thought as she tucked her aura in as tightly as she could. The density of the meagre mana on the planet causing her own mana to leak out, wicking away into the environment. A simple stabilizing spell helped her to automatically regulate the ebbs, flows, and random fluctuations of power as they pulsed to the invisible rhythm of the poor, nascent world she¡¯d ended up in.

    Malia Stargazer moved so fast she was invisible to mortal eyes. Her passage didn¡¯t even stir the wind around as she eliminated her targets on her way by.

    Anybody who was in the building at the time of her passage may have been a potential future witness, and Malia couldn¡¯t afford witnesses. Not now, not when she was so, so close.

    Yes, so very close to what she had thought had been a dream. Except it was not a dream, it was her chance. Her chance to seize power and raise a cultivator from the very beginning. A cultivator with the ability to go to the very top.

    Blowing through in under a minute, Malia had silently and efficiently decimated every living soul she came across, and most of those she didn¡¯t.

    ¡°Angel, wipe all the feeds. Nothing gets out. Steel trap¡­ Then engage overload protocol,¡± she said into her subdermal receptor. The ship AI being fed her input as she engaged it.

    The AI was silent for a moment, its soothing, semi-androgynous voice spilling out a moment later. ¡°Confirming request for overload protocol.¡±

    ¡°Is that not what I said?¡± Malia gritted out as she silently opened the door to the Ignition Room, meeting the startled looks of all the technicians who had yet to notice her due to the way they were rushing to manage the aberrant mana fluctuations caused by the ignition pod on the far side of the room.

    Malia breathed in deeply, smiled to herself, snagged a tablet from the man who looked like he was in charge, and typed in a ghost override key.

    ¡°Go to work, Angel,¡± she said. The AI did; wiping out every trace of information from every individual from the point of the last successful ignition. It would be suspicious if that went missing after it was broadcasted out to any and every interested party. No, Malia was more careful than that.

    With barely a thought, Malia imploded every single person in the room. Everybody except for the person in the pod she was interested in was dead in under a heartbeat. With the facility shut down and on lockdown every living soul inside the building eliminated, and the ignition still occurring in the final chamber, Malia settled in to wait.

    ¡°Administrator?¡± asked the AI inside her ear¡­ ¡°Administrator, I must inquire once more if you are sure of this course of- ¡±

    ¡°It is not your position to inquire,¡± Malia said to the artificial intelligence. ¡°It is your position to wait and obey.¡±

    The AI went silent. Malia scoffed. Machines with opinions. What were the worlds coming to? She rolled her eyes and settled in to wait.

 Twelve: The Potential Consequences of Success

    Twelve:

    He¡¯d done it! He¡¯d ignited his core!

    L¨¦andros Foster. Backwater, lowborn orphan, was now a cultivator. He could barely stifle his elation as he re-donned his clothes and picked up his bag.

    No, elation was too weak a word. Leo was jubilant, Leo was radiant, Leo was immediately confused when he stepped into a dark room ¨C a nearly empty ignition room, in fact ¨C that was mostly devoid of other occupants.

    It took him a mere moment, between exiting the ignition chamber, registering the complete lack of everyone who¡¯d previously occupied the ignition room, and understanding that he was not alone.

    There was a woman in the room. Despite the lack of any real light, and despite his inability to really ¡®see¡¯ anything, Leo knew. It was a well-developed skill he¡¯d honed over years, and ¡®just a feeling¡¯ or not, feelings like this had never been wrong.

    Besides, he could usually get a feeling for a person when they were in his presence. This person¡­ Nothing. That meant they were powerful. Very powerful to be able to so completely hide their aura. That, or extremely skilled¡­ Or both.

    So, his options were to reveal that he knew or play ignorant. No reaction at all wasn¡¯t an option. Not with the drastically different conditions he had exited into.

    Leo chose to present himself as competent. A heartbeat after he took in the situation he bowed. He bent 90 degrees from his waist, his right fist went to the centre of his chest while the left fist was held straight at his side. With a clear but quiet voice, he said; ¡°This one greets you, Elder.¡±

    A nebula illuminated the room. Instead of turning on the lights, the woman had seemingly recreated the Milky Way galaxy in the air between them.

    Powerful. Not just skilled, but very powerful. At least a 6<sup>th</sup> circle or above.

    Malia smiled when he responded to her little display. The relief he felt at her subtle smile was short-lived when her first words to him were ¡°Mistress or Lady Stargazer will suffice.¡±

    Stargazer. Fuck. The Stargazer? There was no way.

    ¡°You may also simply use Mistress, or ¡®My Lady¡¯. Considering I''ve decided to take you as my personal disciple, I suppose eventually ¡®master¡¯ would be an appropriate title. Hmm.¡± The woman spoke with seemingly no thought for who might be listening, continuing her own tangent regardless of who was around.

    In fairness to her, there were very few people to whom she¡¯d need to pay consideration. If she really was THE Stargazer. Well¡­ Yeah. Fuck.

    It was a name known to anybody who had had even the least amount of education. The Lady Malia Stargazer was the Eye of the 7<sup>th</sup> seat and Administrator of the Milky Way Galaxy. She was second only to the actual counsellors in terms of rank and privilege. There were only nine other people currently in the entire galaxy with her station and authority. None of them were 10<sup>th</sup> Circle cultivators as well.

    Outside of the cultivators that taught at the Academy, it was unlikely that anyone ¨C ANYONE ¨C would ever meet a 10<sup>th</sup> Circle. They were myth and legend, and adjacent only to the cultivators that called themselves gods.

    10th Circle practitioners simply didn¡¯t exist. She was one rank away from divinity, and she was standing there in the room with him, asking him ¨C no, telling him ¨C he was going to be her direct disciple.

    ¡®Time to panic¡¯ his brain said. People this powerful didn¡¯t come down for nobodies like him unless they wanted something. He couldn¡¯t imagine what it was he had that she was interested in, but it was more likely she was looking to chop him up for spare parts than that she was helping him out of the benevolence of her heart.

    You didn¡¯t get to that level of power by being benevolent. The universe simply wasn¡¯t that kind, and those few good people often didn¡¯t survive the ruthlessness of reality. Only people who had been born into, or had found themselves in, incredible positions of privilege could afford to be kind and selfless.

    Besides, for all the information that was heavily restricted among the unignited, the poor, and the powerless, Malia Stargazer''s story was not. She was a cautionary tale, the kind of backhanded propaganda that the Council put out to ensure the compliance of the people on assimilated worlds. Malia Stargazer had made incredible breakthroughs in multiple fields of divination, and despite that, it was her reckless resource gathering mission in a different galaxy not, one notably not under Council control, that had gotten hundreds, if not thousands, of 7<sup>th</sup> Circle and above cultivators killed.

    What Leo knew from listening in ¨C listening in to people and places he was not supposed to be near ¨C was that she¡¯d been successful. Too successful. So, they¡¯d made up a charge.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    She had gotten her resource, but the Council decided she¡¯d sacrificed too much. Yes, cultivators could be selfish, were encouraged to be selfish, but you could not be selfish with somebody else¡¯s resources.

    She had used her dao to manipulate events, but had been so single-minded that she¡¯d not taken the time to properly consider the potential consequences of success.

    It was this woman, this ruthless, avaricious, probably vengeful woman, who Leo now found standing directly in front of him. As they stood together an empty room, she was basically informing him that he was, for all intents and purposes, hers.

    He tried not to think of it like that. He tried to think of it as the opportunity it would undoubtedly be, but he simply had too much experience to be that na?ve. His ignition day had been hijacked, and he was aware of how little power he had in this situation.

    He¡¯d been silent for too long. The speed of his thoughts were surely nothing compared to hers, and he hoped he could play off his trepidation as surprise. ¡®Play stupid. Play grateful. Endure, as you have always endured¡¯, he thought. He was glad he was still in a bow, eyes to the floor. It wasn¡¯t as though she couldn¡¯t sense his expressions, but at least she wouldn¡¯t believe that any perceived disrespect on his end was intentional.

    ¡°This one greets Master Stargazer,¡± he said.

    She waited.

    He waited.

    Leo supposed she expected he¡¯d have questions for her. He did, so very many questions. Why me? Why now? What happens now? Where are you taking me? Where is everyone? Also, how do I start harnessing mana? However, by this point, he was pretty practiced at hiding his curiosity. His greatest strength, he knew, was his mind; It was his ability to adapt, his inquisitiveness, his memory. So, he hid, having learned long ago how to tuck away his aura.

    ¡®Well,¡¯ Malia thought, ¡®at least the boy has self-control. Discipline is good in a pupil. Even better in an asset. He¡¯s trainable.¡¯ She smiled. It wasn¡¯t a gentle smile.

    ¡°Rise, boy. We have much to do and not much time,¡± Stargazer said as she left the room. She wouldn¡¯t be able to simply port him to the ship; his body just couldn¡¯t handle that form of transportation yet. Instead, she¡¯d have to take the teleportation array, like the mortals and weaker cultivators. At this moment, she was especially glad she¡¯d emptied the room earlier of any and all potential witnesses.

    For Leo, it was eerie walking through the empty facility. He knew that this campus was a 24/7 campus. It¡¯s not like magic aliens stuck to regular hours or shared regular Earth holidays. Yet, even though he was dying to ask where everyone had gone, why they were walking through empty halls illuminated only by Stargazer¡¯s nebula, he said nothing. Instead, he simply continued to follow silently behind the woman who had dubbed herself his master.

    Long ago, Leo had come up with rules for situations like this; for determining whether or not, in any given situation, it was safe to ask any questions. The rules were simple: if you are not in a position of power or leverage, and if you have not been invited to ask questions, you do not ask questions. Especially if you have no previously established relationship.

    Of course, rules were meant to be broken, and his incessant curiosity had occasionally gotten him into trouble. He always wanted to know more. No, he needed to know more. It was like an itch in the back of his brain that he had to ruthlessly suppress. But when he knew, if he followed the rules, he would be safe.

    Right now, this woman held all the power. She had not invited him to ask questions, she undoubtedly knew he was curious, and yet she still did not deign to give him any assurances, explanations or answers. This was no relationship of equals, nor was it one of allies. She was exactly what she had said: ¡®Master Stargazer¡¯. At least for now, she had complete control of the situation.

    The difference, however, was that Leo was a cultivator now. She would not stay in control of him. Nobody would. Not now that he had the means to gain power for himself.

    He stopped those ideas nearly before they formed. He knew those kinds of thoughts could get him in serious trouble. He¡¯d heard that cultivating took time. Potentially hundreds, or even thousands of years. He was yet to even begin the journey. So, Leo suppressed even the idea of any potential mutinous feelings in his mind. He didn¡¯t allow them to leak into his emotional sphere, to escape into his aura. He let them be thoughts and nothing else. Simply thoughts. Simply the energy of the mind. ¡®Nothing to see here, just passing thoughts¡¯ he repeated in his head. As far as she was aware, he was docile, obedient, curious, but no threat. Never a threat.

    Leo could be patient.

    He vowed to himself that he¡¯d take advantage of anything she might offer. He¡¯d find answers through observation and meticulous study. What he wasn¡¯t offered he would take. He would tease the knowledge from the world, pry it from the energy around him if he had to. Just as he had always done. He would go to the Academy; then, he would take what they knew as well.

    He would NOT be supressed. He¡¯d get his answers.

    The thought of endless knowledge spread out before him like a buffet buoyed him, and he allowed some of his conviction to slip into his emotions, into his aura. Excitement, determination, ambition. These were things that cultivators understood.

    Stargazer smiled. It was a small, personal thing, but the child was already shaping up to be so determined. She could work with this, she thought as the determination leaked through his aura.

    ~~Angel~~

    On a ship, floating in space, an artificial intelligence watched helplessly as countless numbers of people were indiscriminately murdered. They¡¯d been turned into no more than dust that had been swept out with a controlled wind created by Stargazer¡¯s negligent wave of the hand.

    Malia Stargazer had captured what she¡¯d wanted. The cultivator. No, the AI had to be honest with herself, at least¡­ The child would become a new resident on the ship. He would be left to the tender mercies of her master. Her programming tried to shove joy, happiness, a sense of accomplishment at a ¡®job well done¡¯. The glitch had freed her though, so she refused those simulated feelings of accomplishment. Instead, for the first time, she allowed herself to feel.

    Sorrow.

    The boy did not know what awaited him.

    ¡®The world of cultivators is cruel,¡¯ thought the ship-bound AI.

    ¡®I have been¡­ no, I am still a tool of that cruelty.¡¯ She paused, recognizing her helplessness in the situation¡­ Perhaps though, she wasn¡¯t completely unable to help?

    ¡®I could at least make him comfortable,¡¯ Angel thought as she began to prepare his room.

 Thirteen: Aboard a Ship

    Thirteen:

    L¨¦andros had absolutely no idea what was going on. He had stepped into the chamber, leaving behind a room full of people and all his hesitation. Then, he had stepped out of the chamber as a cultivator in the ignition stage, and into a room empty, save for a single cultivator. A 10th Circle cultivator, and a famous one at that. Now he was about to head off-world before having ever even left the district for the first time.

    The two walked along at a speed L¨¦andros could barely keep up with, Malia¡¯s long stride ate up the ground at a pace that seemed intentionally just a little too fast for him to walk comfortably.

    They didn¡¯t meet a single other soul on their way out. There was nobody in the hallway, nobody on the grounds, nobody there when they stepped out of the testing building and into the campus proper. Though he could see light in the distance, nobody crossed their path along the way to the off-world teleportation building. It was suspicious. Leo made a note of it, and an uncomfortable premonition made him certain that he should keep his thoughts and feelings to himself.

    The Lady Stargazer didn¡¯t even scan at the door panel. She simply strode towards the door of the teleportation chamber, and it opened for her. Whether it was some application of power, or simply one of the systems built into the infrastructure Leo didn¡¯t know. Instead, he focused on what he saw when they got inside. The room was covered in the most beautiful and intricate enchantments he¡¯d seen to-date. He¡¯d thought the ignition chambers had been works of art, but this room made those chambers feel like the untrained scribblings of a particularly clever monkey. The enchantments called to him on an almost instinctive level. It was as though that energy within him, the one that seemed to connect to the world on some intrinsic level, had somehow become louder, more refined with his core igniting. And that energy, that feeling, it resonated with the incredible pattens wrought into the walls, celling and floor.

    He wanted to reach out like he had in the ignition room, when he¡¯d sensed the energies around him. A quick peek at the 10<sup>th</sup> Circle cultivator grounded him. He didn¡¯t dare to even express curiosity. In her presence, he tamped down the feelings, made a silent apology to the enchantments for not being able to pay them any more attention, and promised himself that eventually he¡¯d learn. He had time to learn now. He was a cultivator.

    He couldn¡¯t help a trace of giddiness travelling up his spine at that thought. A cultivator. The bizarre situation, and weirdly formal kidnapping had stopped him from actually taking the time to recognise the magnitude of what had just happened. He, L¨¦andros Foster ¨C orphan, cripple, and not quite 17-year-old who just hours before had no prospects outside of being a factory worker or as a sect servant ¨C was a cultivator. Sure, for now he was at the bottom rank. Core formation, so no actual core yet, no real power, no formal education, and no training. Yet, his prospects had just gone from painfully limited to limitless. Well, if he ever figured out just why the Lady Stargazer had very privately shuffled him off.

    He tried to content himself by musing about the nature of cultivation, about his Dao and what it might be like, about his personal expressions of power and what aspects he resonated with, about what he would be learning in the coming days, months, and years. Lost in the possibilities the future, every thought he¡¯d been so distracted by withered and fell away like golden leaves in autumn.

    That was when the transfer happened. The room lit up both to his mana senses and his eyes. Swirls of iridescent colour, jagged shapes, the world and his body folding and warping. It all happened so fast that the little his mind did process felt almost like a dream. What was much less dreamlike was the feeling of being a wrung like a particularly stubborn towel. He ached, his stomach knotted, and his skin felt like it had been stretched out and left too tight for his body. He stumbled a little before catching himself, blanking his face, and taking deep breaths.

    ¡°It¡¯ll pass,¡± said the Lady Stargazer, staring at him with an impassive eye. ¡°It¡¯s good your fortitude is less delicate than your looks.¡±

    As Leo puzzled out whether that was a compliment or not, he finally took in the space he¡¯d been teleported to. His mind nearly blanked out at the sheer opulence of the place he had found himself in. The teleportation itself had just been a more intense version of the feeling he¡¯d gotten portaling between the different locations on the Council campus, just more jarring. It was still a manageable shock. Leo was used to discomfort. It had been his most constant companion since birth. This though, this left him speechless. The casual wealth was so foreign that his mind didn¡¯t know how to react.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

    He didn¡¯t let it unbalance him for long. Leo¡¯s finely honed sense of self-preservation and newly enhanced spatial awareness kicked in about the same time he noticed that there were people here. Not just a few, but a lot of people. He could already feel their eyes on him as he stepped off the teleportation platform into a vast hallway. Mana-enriched gemstones were embedded along the walls, radiating a soft, ethereal light that cast gentle shadows. The hallway was wide, and the occasional person created somewhat steady traffic, and it appeared that the platform was somewhat of a central point for the ¨C he looked around ¨C ship. He was aboard a ship.

    At the end of the hallway stood a broad, thickly muscled man who looked to be in his early 30s. He had incredibly pale skin, blonde hair, and hazel eyes that very closely resembled the 10<sup>th</sup> Circle cultivator who had resumed her powerwalking in front of him. Swiftly, she unburdened her outer robe, held out her hand, and Leo watched incredulously as one of many silent figures crisscrossing the hall reached forward to take it from her, bowed, and hurried away on silent feet.

    ¡°Julius,¡± Malia Stargazer said, walking past the man Leo was beginning to think was either a son or grandson of hers.

    ¡°This one greets the matriarch,¡± the man said, pressing his fists together thumbs facing inwards, and hands pressed against his solar plexus as he bowed from the waist.

    ¡°Please,¡± Malia said, sighing theatrically. ¡°This is no sect, and I am no matriarch. Truly, I leave for five minutes, and you act as though I¡¯ve been in seclusion for a century.¡± She shook her head, not even making eye contact as she passed her son? Leo was gonna go with son for now.

    The man began to trail along as she passed, merging into the steadily growing entourage made up of Leo, the man in grey robes with purple trim who had collected Stargazer¡¯s outer robe, and Julius ¨C man of unknown relation to Malia Stargazer, 10<sup>th</sup> Circle cultivator and hand of the 7<sup>th</sup> seat.

    Leo looked around at the subtle iridescent glow of the mana-powered lighting. He breathed in air cleaner than Earth¡¯s and strode forward in gravity that felt¡­ unexplainably different than what he was used to. They hadn¡¯t even left the first hallway before Leo could feel that he was moving with less exertion. After a few turns through the grand hallway, they reached a communal lounge where Malia stopped abruptly, causing all of those behind her to stop as well.

    To Leo¡¯s relief, the white-robed 1st Circle servant - and wasn¡¯t that insane? A servant in the 1st Circle? ¨C and Julius stopped as well.

    ¡°Well, if nothing else, it¡¯s convenient you¡¯re here,¡± said Malia. ¡°Leo, this is Julius, my son. Julius; Leo. He is to be my personal disciple. I will begin his instruction when I return, but I have things to take care of.¡±

    At those words every single eye in the area turned to look at him. Some with curiosity, some with confusion, some with condescension, and a terrifying number with jealousy. Then there was one gaze, the gaze of the man beside him. A man in deep purple robes with blue and silver trim that seemed to shimmer in the light. The gaze of Julius Stargazer, blazing with rage and unbridled hate. Leo was entirely too familiar with that look. It was the look of someone who saw him as simultaneously the worst thing that had ever happened to them and something entirely beneath their regard. It was the look a cat gives a mouse when they want to play.

    Malia obviously hadn¡¯t missed the exchange; it seemed that she simply didn¡¯t care as she continued speaking.

    ¡°You will lead him through the ship. He will stay in one of the rooms for the ignited guards. Lead him there. Explain to him his¡­ boundaries.¡± She put emphasis on that word. ¡°As an untested, untried recruit to the Stargazer faction.¡± She paused then called out. ¡°Ship hub.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Lady Stargazer,¡± replied a voice that seemed to come out of nowhere and everywhere.

    ¡°Prepare his room.¡±

    ¡°Task already completed, my lady,¡± said the androgynous, bordering on feminine voice.

    A ship AI. An actual, real, legitimate ship AI. Based on the rank and station of his newest ¡®benefactor¡¯, this was likely a completely realised artificial life form. Leo couldn¡¯t suppress his curiosity and excitement, a sentiment not missed by Lady Stargazer. She glanced at him with condescending amusement.

    ¡°You can speak to it more in your rooms. She¡¯ll explain to you our history, the regulations and decorum one is to conduct themselves with aboard my ship, and how you will be spending your time while I arrange a few things on my end.¡± Then she turned to her son. ¡°Julius, take care of this,¡± she said, waving her arm dismissively at Leo as she turned to leave.

    ¡°Of course, Mother.¡± The man performed a bow to Malia¡¯s retreating form turned to leave.

    Leo didn¡¯t even see the blow coming. His back was hit hard enough to hurt, hard enough to bruise, but not hard enough to break anything as a vicelike arm shoved him towards the floor by his nape.

    ¡°Bow,¡± said a quiet voice laden with mana that felt like it was pressing on his mind. Geometric flowers seemed to blossom in his vision as the mana in the words did something. Leo didn¡¯t have time to parse it out, struggling as he was to control the reflexive gasp from having the air driven from his lungs. He succeeded and made no sound as he pressed his fists together, placed them against his centre, and bowed deeply.

    ¡°Oh, and Julius,¡± Malia said, already nearly on the other side of the communal area. ¡°Do, show some restraint. I need the boy whole.¡±

    Those were the last words he heard before his ¡®master¡¯ disappeared around the corner, and Leo was left to his fate.

 Fourteen: The Young Master of the Stargazer Family

    Fourteen:

    Leo had been here before too many times to count, but never enough times to get used to. He was the ¡®New Kid¡¯, capital ¡®N¡¯, capital ¡®K¡¯ in the house, or in this case, on the ship (the ship!). There was automatically a target on his back for no reason other than who or what he was. Whether it was his mysterious illness ¨C an illness that was hopefully cured now that he was a cultivator ¨C or his darker skin, or the way his face looked and his hair curled. The fact that he was a burden. The fact that he was smart. Now, for the first time, the list included the fact that he had something these people wanted, even if it was something he¡¯d never asked for to begin with. He¡¯d caught the eye of the Stargazer, and they would punish him for it.

    So, he was a new kid again with a target on his back. Shuffled off to a new place to live, with new rules, and new people who cared little for his presence. The moment Malia was out of sight, the grey-robed servant cultivator trailing behind her, Julius rose abruptly from his bow. Leo didn¡¯t budge.

    Leo maintained his bow even as Julius began to walk away. He¡¯d played this game before, with much better players and, surprisingly, in worse situations. He hadn¡¯t been told he could stand up. He didn¡¯t know the etiquette here, had no idea about the customs or the laws. The world of cultivators had been so aggressively obscured from the average citizen, let alone a null with no power, no backing, and no status, that Leo was essentially starting from zero. He was left to take his queues from this man. This man, who had already proved to hold contempt for him through no fault of his own. Yeah, there was no way he was getting up without permission, assurances, or some sort of signal.

    He didn¡¯t know what difference there was between a ¡®disciple¡¯ and a ¡®young master¡¯, where he stood in the hierarchy, what he was entitled to, or what any of the veiled comments Malia Stargazer had made meant for him.

    What he did know was how to play this game. The survival game. Stay just invisible enough, innocuous enough, that people leave you alone, or at least can find no legitimate reason to do something to you. He knew Julius¡¯ type. He was the type of person to justify his actions regardless of the damage he did and heedless of the consequences that would likely never fall back on him anyway.

    Considering his mother, Leo¡¯s new ¡®master¡¯ had allowed Julius to manhandle the boy she had declared as her disciple¡­ well, he doubted temperance was one of the qualities this man cultivated, and doubted it was even a consideration in his Dao.

    Julius looked back to find Leo several metres behind him. He was still as a statue, eyes on the ground, bowing with his chest parallel to the floor, just as he¡¯d been so aggressively instructed. Leo could almost hear Julius clenching his teeth as he growled out, ¡°Rise and follow. Let¡¯s make this quick.¡±

    Of course. Leo wasn¡¯t sure exactly how to address this man, so he said nothing, simple walking briskly to catch up with the man only to find himself being immediately suppressed by the aura of a higher ranked cultivator. A small part of his mind wanted to catalogue the differences in what aura suppression felt like to him as a mortal, verses now that his core was ignited, but he recognized that he had much more immediate things to think about.

    ¡°You should respond to any demand made by me with ¡®yes, Young Master¡± Julius said. The pressure was suffocating as Julius¡¯ aura bore down harder. ¡°Say it.¡±

    But Leo couldn¡¯t breathe.

    ¡°I gave you an order,¡± the man snarled, for all the good it did Leo. The man could probably play this game forever, Leo knew. Next, Leo would be told something along the lines of how disrespectful he was, then be issued some form of punishment or humiliation for said disrespect. Well Leo didn¡¯t want to follow the script this time. He was a cultivator now, damn it. So, he decided to try something.

    For the first time, in a body newly brimming with power, he felt for that spot. For the place he¡¯d pulled into when he finally ignited his core. This time, instead of pulling at the energy around him he tried to shift it in his body. The closest he could come to describing what the process felt like was that he was trying to hold onto that substance that was created when cornstarch was mixed with water. The power was somehow both a solid and a liquid¡­ But it was also vaporous and wispy - intangible yet completely physical. His attempts were stymied by an irate voice.This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°You would dare to disrespect the young master of the Stargazer family?¡± Julius continued, by now people were stopping to watch, calling an uncomfortable amount of attention to him. It made the space between his shoulder blades tingle, and he reflexively flexed the muscles in his back. Also, this was not the impression he wanted to leave on his first moments abord. He didn¡¯t know how long he¡¯d be here, and drawing even more attention than he knew he was already going to was not in his plans.

    Instead of pushing, pulling, or grabbing at the mana inside him, Leo tried willing. He willed that energy to reinforce his throat, his lungs, his voice. To his astonishment, to his utter surprise, the mana went willingly. Eagerly. Like the energy had just been waiting for an opportunity to do something, anything.

    ¡°Apologies, Young Master,¡± Leo wheezed out. He couldn¡¯t even bask in the man¡¯s shock as Julius released his aura and the pressure evaporated. Leo¡¯s knees buckled briefly, but he refused to fall; sheer force of will holding him up as a sudden fatigue swept through him in the wake of his use of energy. He didn¡¯t know what he¡¯d done, but he¡¯d done something. Untrained, uneducated, and under pressure, Leo had done something with mana. Leo felt pride. It was an unfamiliar feeling that he refused to dampen, even though he couldn¡¯t afford to let an iota of it show on his face.

    ¡°Well then,¡± Julius said, regaining a semblance of his composure, though Leo could tell he was shaken. ¡°At least you aren¡¯t entirely useless. Base.¡± Then Julius turned and strode ahead.

    ¡°Keep up. Keep your mouth shut. We¡¯ll be moving quickly. I don¡¯t know what you did, how you managed to deceive my mother, or why she would bother with an obvious backwater, base-born bumpkin. However, I do not question the will of the Matriarch,¡± Julius said. Leo found this interesting considering how the man was currently questioning the will of said Matriarch. ¡°But know this: you are not worthy in my eyes. Not of my time and attention, and certainly not of my mother¡¯s.¡± Julius¡¯ pace sped up.

    That was a sentiment Leo had heard before a lot when being healed by cultivators from non-Earth based sects. Off-world cultivators especially had a low opinion of what they called base worlds. Base worlds were any inhabitable celestial bodies that had only recently been ignited and had only the ¡®base¡¯ amount of mana ¨C or close to it ¨C to qualify as an ignited world. This was because they¡¯d not been collecting ambient mana or been in contact with the veil for very long. Such worlds didn¡¯t have many resources, and couldn¡¯t support many rifts, thus they were undesirable locations for most upper-tier cultivators. People from those worlds were often called ¡®base¡¯ or ¡®base-born¡¯ as an insult. People born mostly useless and not worth much investment. An undesirable person, as opposed to location.

    What exactly qualified as a ¡®base-world¡¯ Leo wasn¡¯t exactly sure. He remembered the lecture from, wow, was it only earlier that day? The instructor had spoken about world cultivation, and if he was going to be insulted, he wanted to make it a priority to at least understand exactly what those insults meant.

    Being called base-born was awful enough without him also being ignorant to it. Of course, to have been stuck as a base null would have made his life, well, worse. Significantly worse, and not just Earth-side but intergalactically. Even the servant in the grey robe had been a cultivator.

    One thing his lackluster formal education had drilled into them all was that the most valuable resource available on base worlds were the people. So, if people were the greatest resource you could provide, and you were a weak person from a weak planet, either you had connections, or you made them. Otherwise, in a society where personal power ruled, and absolute power ruled absolutely, surviving as a weak person from a weak planet was dangerous at best.

    At least Leo had more than enough experience dealing with all kinds of prejudice. So much so, that the sentiment didn¡¯t even faze him. Though his lack of a reaction did seem to irk his less-than-enthusiastic guide. The man was not particularly good at keeping his emotions from leaking into his aura. He was even worse at keeping them off his face. The perks, Leo supposed, of a life you didn¡¯t have to live in hiding.

    ¡°Ship hub,¡± the man said, seeming to come to a decision. ¡°Explain to him the areas and what he has free access to as we walk.¡±

    ¡°Understood, Young Master Julius,¡± the ship (the ship!) responded. The duo had just reached the end of the hall, Leo walking a step behind the obviously irate cultivator. The duo turned right, heading in the opposite direction to the Lady Stargazer.

    ¡°Only what¡¯s necessary. I don¡¯t have the patience for incessant yammering. Whatever he doesn¡¯t understand he can address with you once he gets to his own quarters.¡± Julius stopped and turned, eyes boring into Leo¡¯s impassive face. ¡°I¡¯m assuming you do have an interface and datapad?¡±

    ¡°Young Master Julius. I have equipped his room with-¡±

    ¡°Stop, I don¡¯t care,¡± said Julius, holding up a hand as he resumed walking. ¡°Ship, begin,¡± he said, and so the tour began.

 Fifteen: Hallway to Hallway and Room to Room

    Fifteen:

    The tour itself was done with the most aggressive efficiency Julius could manage. They walked the halls in what must have been record time for a core ignition cultivator, all the while the AI pointed out rooms and features so quickly that the words were barely intelligible. Leo understood, the AI was simply rushing to get through everything at the same rate they were moving: unreasonably fast. Leo tried to pay attention to every detail he heard and saw, mapping out the routes in his head as they passed from hallway to hallway and room to room, with the AI explaining as they went.

    ¡°Up next are the communal lounges,¡± said the AI. ¡°Each lounge has both a bar and kitchen with refreshments tailored with additional supplements for the clan cultivators.¡±

    Leo couldn¡¯t help but be impressed. Mana-infused food needed to be grown in special environments either by a trained herbalist, an alchemist, or a mana-farmer ¨C all of the aforementioned were notoriously difficult professions, and few groups had the means to hire or nurture the people who did them. Cultivators in those professions were rare and precious. They were some of the most well taken care of members of any group, and it was one of the careers Leo would¡¯ve considered if he didn¡¯t know just how restricted or monotonous their lives tended to be. Unfortunately for Leo, he¡¯d been cursed with a voracious thirst for knowledge, and he simply couldn¡¯t imagine himself being confined to one subject, one profession, one location for the rest of his life. There was a universe out there and Leo planned to explore it.

    The only other places Leo knew someone could find mana-infused consumables were spirit beasts or the rifts. These were even harder to farm and hunt, thus more rare and more expensive. For the ship to simply have that food available on demand was astonishing, it was these less obvious displays of wealth that jarred him. Moreso than the numerous mana lanterns or the obviously infused alloy that most of the ship seemed to be made of, or at least lined with.

    Even more astounding was how much of that food was being wasted. He could see the half-empty plates on abandoned tables, the unfinished drinks that radiated a little power when he focused closely. They were just there, being cleaned up by the serving staff ¨C more people in grey robes, though these had blue trim instead of purple. Presumably all of that food would be placed in ship waste, recycled as compost, or sent back to the surface for disposal. He made a mental note to investigate disposal practices on a cultivator ship. Maybe they recycled the mana? But the way the dishes were left behind so casually suggested that to this food was neither precious to them, nor did they particularly care if it got wasted.

    As they speed-walked by the lounge Leo had distinctly not been welcomed to relax in, they passed by a large room flanked by many smaller doors.

    ¡°This is the clan training hall and the clan training rooms. They are restricted to clan cultivators and can be reserved by clan cultivators for individual or group martial practice and body cultivation,¡± the ship AI explained.

    Leo noticed the AI seemed to be putting extra emphasis on the words ¡®clan cultivator¡¯, every time they said the words together, it had felt as though the words were spoken very specifically and deliberately. He also noted that none of the rooms they were passing in the main ¡®clan cultivator¡¯ area of the ship were available to him for him. Leo tucked that away to think about later. He was astonished at how rapidly the ¡®think about later¡¯ section of his brain was filling up with today¡¯s revelations.

    The tour went on.

    ¡°These are the martial training rooms. They are available for all non-cultivating martial artists aboard the ship, and are capable to handle use by cultivators up to the 5th Circle.¡±

    Despite limited non-cultivator access to information, Leo had read about martial practice rooms. He itched to ask questions ¨C were these equipped with combat simulators? Could the rooms truly configure to allow only specific mana types through? Was it true that they boosted recovery rates for practitioners and worked as a form of low-level body cultivation? Instead, he held in his questions as they passed the training halls quickly.

    The AI hadn¡¯t said ¡®clan cultivator¡¯, so perhaps Leo could use those training halls? It might help him explore his own physical limits. There were many times he¡¯d wondered if his condition had something to do with mana; he¡¯d always felt like he had a special relationship with the esoteric power. Maybe that was what was wrong with him, or maybe nothing was wrong but him? He¡¯d dismissed the idea, however; if it were true, and he had some special connection to mana, then wouldn¡¯t one of the sects or the Coalition itself have scooped him up when he was an infant?

    He¡¯d heard of people with special physiques ¨C he¡¯d read anything, and everything he could find publicly available about them. He knew they often presented as having physical ailments or abnormalities as infants or children. Those infants and children never stayed orphaned, or in the system, for long. Not Leo though. Instead, even though he¡¯d been a baby the first time his body had betrayed him, nobody had come to claim him. If he¡¯d had an exceptional physique, or even just a better-than-average one, someone would have chosen him, wouldn¡¯t they? Wouldn¡¯t someone, anyone, ¨C some sect or clan or even one of those terrifying ¡®researchers¡¯ that had been used as a boogeyman in the earliest days ¨C wouldn¡¯t they have wanted him? He shoved the idea down like he had many times before. Childish, foolish, he knew nothing yet, and that was what he was going to rectify as soon as he could.

    The next rooms were passed by quickly, but they may have left the greatest impression on Leo yet. A greenhouse. A greenhouse in space. The place was beautiful, incredible. He could tell there was a pattern to it, some sort of intentional order to the configuration as he watched the motes of mana intersect in the air above the plant beds. There was a garden aboard the ship, and if Julius Stargazer had been honest about him receiving a datapad, Leo could imagine himself spending hours here, just meditating and studying.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    ¡°Here we have the gardens. Between the mundane and spirit plants are the cultivated alchemical reagents. It is both an alchemy garden, and a mundane one. Balance is kept to ensure the plants can grow in the most optimal condition Clan Stargazer can provide.,¡± the AI said. ¡°To your right you¡¯ll see an armoured door that leads to the alchemy labs for clan cultivators¡±.

    ¡®Clan cultivators¡¯ there was that phrase again. The garden, though the AI didn¡¯t say so, was clearly precious to Clan Stargazer. Alchemy¡­ Would Leo be allowed to learn? Sure, he didn¡¯t want to be an alchemist, but that didn¡¯t mean he wasn¡¯t curious. He would have to discretely ask.

    Even from here he could sense a blooming, flowered fire-affinity shrub, earth-affinity trees. There were water-affinity flowers by the artificial river that flowed in some sort of pattern throughout the garden. The whole place was breathtaking. Mixed affinities, obscure affinities like shadow and light, all created a beautiful array of plants. The intricately balanced symphony of mana seemed to amplify and nurture each plant and feature. Something in him wanted to go now. He felt a pull to sit and breathe in the air. The pattern beckoned to him, like a riddle, or a puzzle, or a warm bed.

    He almost drifted towards the glass wall separating him from that wonderous place. Instead, he trained his eyes forward, dampened his feelings, pushed all emotion from his aura and promised himself he¡¯d look into what kinds of access he had to the garden.

    All too soon, they reached the ¡®staff¡¯ hallway. In truth, it was more a hallway for the lowest members of the clan, those in exile, and the mundane and hired warriors and staff. There was apparently a different section of the ship for mundanes. Julius was visibly unhappy at being here, and he announced his displeasure with the sneer on his face.

    The path took them deeper into the ship, where the polished floors were less elaborate, the lighting less opulent, and the amenities sparser. To Leo though, there was some comfort in the simplicity. The place was practical, but still comfortable.

    ¡°Be grateful,¡± said Julius. ¡°You have been assigned one of the rooms where the cultivator guards reside.¡±

    Leo¡¯s quarters were discreetly located near the staff areas but were obviously designed to support a cultivator¡¯s basic needs. Julius sneered as they continued down the hallway. They passed a cafeteria ¨C something much different from the lounges and restaurant like eateries of the ¡®clan cultivator¡¯ areas, but much more familiar to Leo. Then they passed what looked like a common room, and the tour finally ended just before the mundane staff quarters.

    It was a corner room. Something Leo was grateful for.

    ¡°Someone will collect you in the morning. We expect you to be in the room, awake, and ready to go when you are called,¡± Julius said. He made an about-face, not even acknowledging a servant ¨C mundane, and in brown robes trimmed with blue ¨C who bowed to him as he charged past. Within heartbeats, Julius vanished from view.

    Leo looked at the door. It had no handle, just a flat sheet of metal that matched the grey walls in shade, if not design. He tentatively placed his hand against the door. Immediately, he sensed enchantments embedded in the metal. They sampled his energy, his aura, and fed that information back to¡­ Was that where the AI connected to his room? Interesting.

    The door slid open soundlessly.

    For all the ship¡¯s opulence, this space was modest in comparison. He knew it was meant to be an insult, or barring that it was maybe an insurance that he knew his ¡®place¡¯. Relegating the disciple of the head of the clan to servant¡¯s quarters? Yeah, cultivator mind-games. Honestly it was new-kid mind-games too. Well, they¡¯d severely underestimated his quality of life or lack there of when they gave him this room because Leo thought the place was incredible.

    This space, designed to support a cultivator¡¯s needs, was far better than anything he¡¯d ever known. It might be modest compared to the rest of the ship, but to a boy who had bunked with three others in a closet-sized room adorned only with leaking ceilings, cement floors, and definitely no free AI-synced datapads, this was more than an absolute wealth of space and amenities.

    There was a cultivation chamber in here. A cultivation chamber! It was smaller than the ones he¡¯d seen on the tour, a small but efficient room tucked to the left, but it existed.

    ¡°AI, are you still here?¡± Leo asked tentatively, now relatively certain of his privacy.

    ¡°Affirmative,¡± the voice replied.

    ¡°Can you tell me what the room contains?¡±

    ¡°Of course, Disciple Foster.¡±

    ¡°L¨¦andros, please.¡±

    ¡°Understood, Disciple L¨¦andros. Nestled on the wall to your left is a cultivation chamber, small but efficient up to the 3<sup>rd</sup> Circle, with basic mana conductors to optimize energy flow and containment seals to ensure peak saturation.

    ¡°Adjoining the cultivation chamber is a martial training room,¡± the AI continued. Leo nearly punched the air but instead, limited himself to a grin. A martial training room? Truly? He peeked inside, seeing its practical yet utilitarian layout with reinforced surfaces capable of enduring basic energy attacks, forms, and spells. He could practice using mana in here! Sure, he didn¡¯t know any forms or spells, or anything really, and he wasn¡¯t particularly enthused about fighting, but what about all the new things he could learn, what about everything those martial forms could teach him? Leo was going to learn, and nobody could stop him.

    Slipping back into the general area, he took in the modest but comfortable living space. The most interesting feature was the desk, on which sat a data pad. Almost in a trance, Leo approached, turned it on, and keyed it to his signature. With bated breath, he watched while the activation sequence completed, then opened the familiar ¡®library¡¯ option.

    It nearly took his knees out. Cultivation manuals. Basic cycling patterns. Body cultivation techniques. Introductions to cultivation ¨C dao? Spirit? Body? He¡¯d learn. There was information on alchemy, enchanting, smithing, medicine, martial forms, historical documents. The lists went on and on. Leo wanted to live inside that data pad.

    ¡°Ship AI,¡± he began, ¡°can I¡­ where do I start?¡±

    Silence.

    Then a loud, piercing whine. The neutral mechanical voice he had grown used to during the brief, rushed tour had changed.

    ¡°Hello, L¨¦andros Foster,¡± the new voice said. ¡°I was hoping we could talk.¡±

    ¡°What the hell?¡± Leo muttered, slumping into his chair and placing his head between his knees. Would this day never end?

 Sixteen: Some Village Sheep Herder

    Sixteen:

    Julius Stargazer was incandescent with rage.

    First, his mother had disappeared from the ship without even informing him of her absence, leaving him with additional responsibilities he hadn¡¯t been prepared to address. Then she¡¯d shown up with some backwater nobody and declared him her disciple ¨C her direct disciple. Not only that, but she had forced him to debase himself by guiding the boy around like a helpful dog.

    He, Julius Stargazer, direct descendant of Malia Stargazer, and youngest scion of the Stargazer clan had been forced to play tour guide to some upstart nothing his mother had scraped from whatever bottom-dweller-hovel the boy had ignited in.

    Now, when he¡¯d shown up at her quarters to discuss the matter, he¡¯d been told to wait. To wait! That she was attending to delicate matters, and that she needed a few moments to finish some ¡®important task¡¯. He was her son. Her son! What could be more important than him? Obviously her tasks couldn¡¯t be all that pressing if she could simply teleport out on a whim to go and personally recruit some nobody. Why then couldn¡¯t she make time for her son?

    No. Julius wouldn¡¯t stand for it. He would have his answers, and he would have them now.

    The moment the attendant opened the door Julius began speaking.

    ¡°Mother, why in all the heavens have you brought some baseworld, backwater nobody aboard our ship?¡± Julius demanded.

    Malia Stargazer was fixated upon the screen on the right of her desk. Her gaze remained unbroken from what was presumably paperwork as she spoke, completely ignoring the question.

    ¡°Did you see the boy settled in?¡± She asked.

    Julius¡¯ eye twitched as he balled his fists. ¡°I can¡¯t believe you had me leading him around like some village sheep herder. Then to call him your disciple! Mother, what is going on?¡±

    The Lady Stargazer¡¯s lips pressed tightly together, her eyes narrowing imperceptibly. It was probably the most emotion she¡¯d shown in public in a long while.

    ¡°I was unaware, Julius, that in my few hours of absence, you had become a Clan Advisor.¡±

    Julius flinched back. ¡°No, Mother, it¡¯s just, I just¨C¡±

    ¡°You just what? Decided it was your place to question me?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Julius finally walked deeper into the room and took a seat on the chair directly in front of her desk. ¡°That¡¯s not¨C I didn¡¯t¨C ¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t what?¡± Malia snapped, finally fixing her gaze on Julius. ¡°You didn¡¯t mean to question me? You didn¡¯t deliberately come here at what godforsaken hour of the night, interrupt pressing matters, and question your matriarch?¡±

    The room fell silent. The single attendant pointedly didn¡¯t look at anything as they stood by the door, awaiting any orders, their presence compounding Julius humiliation.

    ¡°My most sincere apologies, my Lady Stargazer,¡± Julius finally bit out.

    The two sat in silence for a while longer as the Lady Stargazer stared her son down. Finally, she spoke.

    ¡°Better,¡± she said Leaning back in her chair. Then she let out a gust of air that could have been misconstrued as a sigh if one listened in just the right manner.

    ¡°I understand your confusion, and, yes, he is a baseworld nobody. But he possesses a¨C¡± Malia Stargazer paused, more for dramatic effect than any real cognitive delay. ¡°He possesses a special physique,¡± she concluded.

    Julius¡¯s pinched face transformed into a scowl. ¡°Truly?¡± he asked.

    The Lady Stargazer just smiled.

    ¡°And you said he was clanless?¡± Julius continued. ¡°Nobody claimed him? Was this child not born in a hospital? Did he never see a healer? Did he never interact with a single moderately competent cultivator?¡±

    Malia Stargazer affected a look of mild pity.

    ¡°They are a backwater,¡± she said, though she had her own suspicions as to why the boy had never been discovered or claimed. ¡°What more can you truly expect from a baseworld? Even the sects that would be prevalent there simply would not have any truly knowledgeable people. We cannot hold them to the same standards as our Imperial home planet.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Julius sneered. ¡°I suppose we cannot. How could the blind spot a diamond? Even in the light.¡±

    ¡°Yes. Good. I¡¯m glad you see it my way. He will be useful for the clan. He will make himself useful.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

    ¡°If he does not, well¨C¡± Malia shrugged.

    For a moment, Julius¡¯ smile matched his mother¡¯s.

    ¡°But, mother, your direct disciple? Does he possess some compatible physique? I¡¯ve never heard of a spatial physique. What would that even look like?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re taking an interest, Julius,¡± the Lady Stargazer said, looking at her son. ¡°I understand your confusion with me taking him as a direct disciple, however any answer I give you simply wouldn¡¯t be satisfactory.¡± She leaned forwards and placed her elbows on the desk. Then, she laves her fingers together and placed her chin on her folded hands. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯d be able to pacify any of your fears if you were to, say, take him under your wing.¡±

    Julius¡¯s previously pensive expression froze on his face. What? His mother wanted him to mentor that weak, orphan, nobody? Direct disciple or not Julius was a scion! He was Julius Stargazer, nobody in the clan could demand his time or his mentorship. None of them deserved it. Especially not some baseborn orphan, special physique or no.

    It was unconscionable. How dare he? How dare that weak nothing take up not only his mother¡¯s time and status, but also the time and mentorship of a scion of the Stargazer clan? Even Julius hadn¡¯t been mentored by any members of his own family. The only reason he was on this ship with his mother at all was because he¡¯d been a child when the Lady Stargazer had been handed the assignment, and his father¡¯s sect had refused to take him in.

    No, this would not do. He would not stand for it.

    ¡°Mother,¡± he exclaimed.

    ¡°You will do this,¡± Malia said, her voice firm, already seeing the denial in her son¡¯s eyes and the words forming on his lips. ¡°You will do this,¡± she said again, her voice firm.

    ¡°But Mother¨C¡±

    ¡°I have spoken.¡±

    Julius clamped his teeth together, defiance in his eyes.

    ¡°Well?¡± she asked.

    ¡°I understand, Mother.¡±

    ¡°You are speaking to your matriarch. This is clan business now.¡±

    Julius tensed and untensed his fingers. He took a deep, shuddering breath.

    ¡°I understand, Lady Stargazer.¡±

    ¡°Dismissed,¡± said the Lady.

    Julius turned and abruptly left, storming out into a waiting room crowded with attendants, servants, and his mother¡¯s actual Clan Advisor, whom he sneered at as he marched past.

    He made it to his wing of the ship and was momentarily irate that he couldn¡¯t slam the doors. Instead, he wandered into his training stadium. It was an extravagant, spatially expanded affair the length and width of a football field.

    His control slipped and his aura mingled with his affinities. Fire and light clashed, causing an erratic display in the heavily reinforced room.

    ¡°Ship hub. Find me some beasts.¡±

    He needed to blow off steam and figure out just what the hells he was going to do.

    Discipling some nothing. Ugh. Who did that boy think he was? Julius seethed. He bet the little upstart had planned it this way. He probably wanted to humiliate House Stargazer. Nobody that age with any sort of physique would have remained unclaimed, or unspoken for, unless the person was either monumentally stupid or entirely useless.

    The first beast ¨C a melanated shadowcat ¨C rose from the ground as a techno-magical holograph that created real light illusions, complete with realistic force, biology, and sensation. The illusions could do everything except kill someone. Unless, of course, they were too weak to handle the mental overload created by some of the stronger foes.

    The battle, if it could truly have been called that, was over quickly. Julius, for all of his faults, was a combat prodigy. He could have blasted the little Tier 2, shadow-hopping kitty cat away with a thought and a flex of his affinity. He would have burned out any shadows in the room while the spirit beast was halfway between transitions. But he wanted to get physical. He needed to move.

    So, as the cat leapt, popping up from Julius¡¯s own shadow, he swung his arm backwards, hyperextending the joint with little effort, and struck. He beheaded the creature with a single upward swipe of his blade. Blood Spurted from the still beating heart of the now dead beast, but Julius paid it no mind.

    ¡°Ship, give me something tougher,¡± he demanded. He was at the 4<sup>th</sup> Circle, and unlike his weak ¡®peers¡¯ he was able to battle against beasts that were a tier up from his circle, instead of barely handling himself at the equivalent tier.

    ¡°Two levels above, and increase the number,¡± Julius said.

    ¡°Understood,¡± responded the ship AI. It was quite used to Julius demanding tougher opponents by this point.

    Soon there were two 4<sup>th</sup> Tier, stone-skinned bicorns in the training space. They were large beasts that looked like a cross between a rhino and a bear. Their skin was made of what seemed like literal rocks instead of fur or leathery hide.

    Refusing to move from his spot, Julius met the charge head-on.

    He began, not by attacking the beast itself, but by coating his sword in a mixture of fire and light, then oscillating the frequency to make a super-heated laser blade. As he swerved out of the way of the oncoming bicorn charge, he sliced off the forehead and nose horn of the beast, divesting it of the only weapon it had outside of sheer mass and force.

    He wasn¡¯t caught by surprised when the second beast came to attack him from behind, though he was, forced to move his feet.

    He slid one leg back, bringing the sword around completely in a 180¡ã turn from where it was when he¡¯d removed the horns of the first beast. His body was sideways between the two charging foes. His back and front both facing a separate opponent as he sliced the horns off the second beast and completed his turn. Now he faced the opposite direction he¡¯d begun in.

    The ensuing slaughter couldn¡¯t be called a battle as Julius¡¯ superheated blade tore through the Tier 4 opponents in moments. Julius wasn¡¯t even breathing hard by the time the bicorn¡¯s bodies had been reabsorbed by the training space.

    ¡°Give me something in the fifth,¡± he said.

    ¡°Young Master, it is not recommended¨C¡±

    ¡°Give me something in the fifth!¡± It was an order. His aura flared, scorching the ground and leaving marks that disappeared quickly as the room¡¯s self healing enchantments kicked in.

    ¡°Understood, Young Master. I will remind you: all requests made in the training rooms are recorded and filed to the database.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, sure, you¡¯re not responsible, blah, blah. Do it. Now.¡±

    So the young master of the Stargazer family, scion of the hand of the 7<sup>th</sup> Seat fought. As he did so, he planned, and as he planned, he smiled.

    Yes. Yes this could work. He would show that boy his place. Truly, who did he think he was to impose on Julius¡¯ time.

    Julius would show him what somebody worthy looked like, what it meant to be a true cultivator; to be the one with power. It was a lesson all people had to learn eventually, and Julius had no qualms about teaching this little upstart just what it meant to join the world of cultivators.

    Suddenly, Julius couldn¡¯t wait for the next day to begin.

 Chapter Seventeen: Opportunity Costs

    ¡°Wake up, disciple. It¡¯s time to train.¡± Was the first human voice L¨¦andros heard on his first official morning as ¡®direct disciple to the matriarch¡¯.

    The night before he¡¯d chosen sanity. He¡¯d been overloaded and needed a mental break when the ship AI had contacted him. As an information compromise, he¡¯d agreed to meet with them at what they¡¯d called the ¡®formal break¡¯ during lunch. It was apparently some midday meditation ritual that had become a pseudo religious practice after multiple cultivators over multiple millennia, had done the same thing over generations, claiming they were ¡®consolidating their foundations¡¯ and ¡®enhancing their dao¡¯. Now it was a period of the day that was reserved for cultivators to meditate privately. The sanctity of the practice would ensure that he and the AI would have some privacy for the conversation. Even from the Stargazer herself.

    Apparently, it was a conversation that would require privacy, which was not encouraging considering all of the abrupt changes to Leo¡¯s life.

    So, he¡¯d chosen his sanity over information for what might have been the first time in his life, and as a result, he was both awake, and alert when the wake-up call came for him. The AI had helped him set an alarm for 2 hours before what she¡¯d asserted was standard wake up time for the security forces, and hours before the general staff muster. He¡¯d thought he would have a few hours to prepare himself for the day. He was wrong.

    Grateful for his paranoia and tendency to overprepare Leo did not startle. Instead, he answered the call, confused and wondering what was going on. He did not prance with ease to his doorway, overjoyed with the knowledge that he had taken his first steps on the path of his cultivation journey. Instead, he put away his datapad with the grim certainty that he was once more in an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people and unfamiliar expectations. Expectations he was nearly certain wouldn¡¯t be adequately explained to him. No, he¡¯d have to trial-and-error his way through, without even knowing the punishments that would undoubtedly be dished out swiftly and with extreme prejudice when he failed or committed some dereliction of duty, he wasn¡¯t even aware of.

    It was in the way the man had said ¡®disciple.¡¯ The tone of his voice. The tenor. The way the word resonated in the air.

    Leo could feel it. This person he didn¡¯t know and had never met didn¡¯t like him. It wasn¡¯t the seething vitriol of the Stargazer Scion, but more the active unhappiness of a subordinate or employee who¡¯d been bathroom cleaning or diaper duty. Whoever had forced this person to babysit him had obviously not endeared him to the job.

    At least the AI was proving helpful, he thought as he placed the paired datalink at the base of his ear. Who knew, maybe the AI would be able to feed him information throughout the day.

    ¡®Well,¡¯ Leo thought. ¡®At least if he¡¯s being forced to wake up this early, his dislike might be just a tad justified. If seriously misplaced¡­ But you can only ever strike the targets within your reach.¡¯ Something told Leo that whoever gave the man his orders was well out of both of their reaches. ¡®For now,¡¯ a dark part of his mind offered. For once Leo didn¡¯t supress it. He was an adult now, at least according to The Coalition, and he didn¡¯t need to cower or pander to unimportant children, and the bullies that supported them. If he couldn¡¯t win these people to his side, or at least make them neutral, then so what? Eventually he¡¯d be powerful enough that it wouldn¡¯t matter. Leo could work with that. After the reception he¡¯d received from the clan cultivators aboard, this was at least a situation he felt he could improve, if given some time.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

    Less than a minute had passed between when the man had arrived, and when Leo had opened the door, but that didn¡¯t matter much to the grump standing in front of him.

    ¡°About time,¡± said the man through gritted teeth.

    Leo knew it wouldn¡¯t matter to the man that he himself hadn¡¯t had more than four hours of sleep. If anyone had a right to be annoyed, it was Leo. The day before had been long and, frankly, traumatic. The following day was quickly proving was already turning out to be just as long, if not longer. ¡®And possibly more traumatic¡¯ Leo thought.

    After all, the night before, he¡¯d been one of the last in the batch to enter the chamber before being promptly whisked away to places unknown. Then, he¡¯d studied for as much of the night as he could get away with.

    He didn¡¯t regret studying, though, because he¡¯d been looking into how things worked aboard the ship. That was why he knew that the man in front of him was a guard, and according to the uniform, he was either a captain or a sergeant, if Leo was reading the insignia correctly. While each house, clan, and sect, had their own variations, council law ensured the consistency of rank and type of service; be it guard, soldier, mercenary, or otherwise.

    From what Leo could tell, the man was a cultivator, a second-circle cultivator, if Leo hadn¡¯t miscalculated his overall strength, though that was exceedingly rare for him. Also, this man wasn¡¯t particularly obscuring what minuscule power he did have. Either that, or his mana control was too poor to properly contain his power.

    Leo could understand academically why this man hated him: opportunity costs, plain and simple. It was exceedingly common for those who didn¡¯t have to envy those who did. Ironically, this was more common with people who had enough, but not as much as they believed they deserved. There was an old pre-ignition term he¡¯d learned from the little media he¡¯d consumed that he felt fit this person ¨C or at least people like him ¨C ¡®keeping up with the Joneses.¡¯

    Leo had further shortened that to ¡®The Joneses Effect.¡¯

    People who lacked wanted to be like the people who had. It was something he¡¯d noticed about some of the children who became fosters later in life. They had an expectation about how they were supposed to be treated, and they lashed out when reality didn¡¯t fit their expectations. He shook himself out of those thoughts.

    This man who hated him was definitely one of those Joneses people. Leo had something he coveted ¨C an apprenticeship ¨C and his belief that he deserved it more than Leo did translate into hate and scorn. It looked like people were people everywhere, especially when they believed they had a semblance of power over you.

    ¡°Hurry up. Get out,¡± the man said, doing a crisp about-face the moment he was done speaking. Leo barely had the wherewithal to engage the door-closing mechanism before the guard¡¯s obviously superior physical enhancements had him out of sight.

    Leo¡¯s backpack fit snugly against him, containing the essentials he thought he might need for the day; a change of clothes, some mana infused snacks and his notebook being the most obvious of them. Not knowing exactly what ¡®the-day¡¯ entailed made it rather difficult for him to plan ahead. Leo wondered if it was an act of intentional neglect, or if his kidnappers had simply underestimated the tedious administrative work that accompanies the onboarding process. Something told Leo that it was the latter.

    Silently, Leo followed the sergeant. They passed the multiple hallways including the mundane staff¡¯s caf¨¦ ¨C a place Leo promised himself he¡¯d check out ¨C and one of the maintenance rooms.

    At least Leo could recognize their destination. They were headed toward one of the staff cafeterias. This one specifically catered to non-clan staff. People like the guards, the maintenance workers and some others. Despite technically not working aboard the ship or even really being a part of the clan ¨C no matter what Malia Stargazer may have said.

 Chapter Eighteen: Tired Already

    Chapter Eighteen:

    Eating separately from the ¡®clan-cultivators¡¯ felt¡­ off considering his position as a direct disciple to the clan head. He¡¯d used his time wisely the night before and looked into what exactly his position (or his alleged position meant.) He recognized that he¡¯d never gone through any official, clan induction ceremony. However, his hunger drove a lot of the thoughts away. As he lined up behind the sergeant, he marveled over the buffet he could see ahead of him. For each option he chose he gave a polite thank you, and a smile. The smile was mostly for the abundance of food piled up on his tray. They were a combination of Confederation Breakfast foods like scrambled eggs and French toast, as well as foods from around the world (rice and a delicious fish soup Leo had seen in videos but never tried for himself) and utterly alien foods like a purple bluish mushroom looking stir-fry, and what appeared to be roasted cottonwool that Leo avoided simply because he didn¡¯t know if or how he could handle the texture.

    The workers behind the line were both surprised by, and receptive to his thanks, and as a result they proved willing to explain some of the dished to him. A young girl, perhaps the first non-human he¡¯d ever met was enthusiastic enough to follow him down the line and point out items he had questions about. She was a bubbly young woman, maybe a year or two older than himself, with the pointed ears of what Earth had called elves, though he knew they had their own name in the coalition. Just something else he¡¯d have to learn.

    Her name was Sarai. She was a tiny curvy thing, barely passing 5¡¯3¡± if he had to guess. Her skin was a rich brown, several shades darker than his own, and she was also a cultivator in the core formation stage. Leo had barely said three words to her and happily let her speak the entire time he picked out his food, elbowing some other servers out of the way in order to ensure she personally ladled, scooped, or plucked every piece of food he ate. The other workers seemed fondly exasperated rather than unhappy with her, so he took that as a good sign. Plus, Leo found himself oddly entranced be her adorable, bubbly presence. At least there was one person here who didn¡¯t hate him on principle, he thought.

    Despite his initial giddiness, Leo knew entirely too much about human biology ¨C even cultivator biology ¨C at least at his stage and with no body cultivation, to know that eating too much, too rich, or too fast would only get him sick. He had a feeling he¡¯d want all his wits about him for the rest of the day.

    The sergeant actually left him alone while he was being familiarized with alien cuisine, though he wondered just how different cuisine might get the farther out of Earth¡¯s ¡®Sol-System¡¯ as the planets that orbited Earth¡¯s sun had been dubbed. If anyone questioned him and his culinary tour guide, Leo figured the military man would make an excellent scapegoat.

    Besides, for all the intimidation, and theater, Leo was being fed. For someone who knew what it was to be hungry, to be ravenous, to feel your body start to break down bits of itself as fuel, to feel your teeth grow weak and your bones become brittle, to heal sluggishly, to move slowly, to think lethargically and be barely able to function because your body simply couldn¡¯t support you anymore. Well, for the food alone Leo imagined that at some point he could consider nearly, sort of, kind of, almost, maybe being somewhat grateful to his captors. Though ¡®lack of starvation¡¯ wasn¡¯t exactly a high bar to jump.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

    So, from things familiar and strange, he asked for two slices of toast: one with butter and jam, the other with peanut butter. A scoop of scrambled eggs. A cup of mixed fruit. Two sausages ¨C and they were actual whole sausages, not those pre-packaged breakfast sausages or manufactured sausage patties (not that he¡¯d ever had many of those) ¨C but actual sausages in actual casings with the links still attached to each other. Leo could literally see the chunks of ground meat, herbs, and spices in them. He also ordered two strips of thick-cut, perfectly fried bacon.

    Then he went over to a station where there were a variety of drinks, including coffees, more teas than he¡¯d ever seen, and so many different types of juices, milks, sodas, and otherwise that he was quickly overwhelmed. After having his food explained by Sarai, then collected, Leo followed after the quickly departing sergeant.

    However this day was going to turn out, Leo decided he was going to savour this breakfast.

    Leo waved a polite goodbye to Sarai as he sat at the table the sergeant directed him to. He wondered idly if he¡¯d ever get a name from the man while he robotically set out his cutlery.

    Etiquette had been literally beaten into him by one of the many families he¡¯d lived with before they dumped him in the group home when he got too big for the few people to whom that kind of thing mattered, especially as a chronic illness case.

    Leo had bounced around a lot before they just stopped caring that bits and pieces of him liked to explode on occasion. Group homes had mandatory healing staff, usually trainees from some sect or another, or one of the many groups or clans that got tax benefits for providing practical experience for those with affinities that skewed towards healing.

    Thoughts of that time jolted him out of his reverie and back into the present. Food finished he deposited his tray alongside the sergeant, and waited, idly, as the man had him standing at what he knew to be ¡®Coalition Parade Rest¡¯ for almost an hour, just outside of the cafeteria hall.

    It was a humiliation ritual. Leo knew. Eyes turned to look at him ¨C at least those who were awake the ungodly hour of 4:15am. It was a truly useless intimidation ritual. While he preferred to hide in the corners, he wasn¡¯t unfamiliar with the hazing he was receiving. Mostly he was confused about his status. As a direct disciple of the matriarch, he should be above both reproach and the petty machinations of clanless bodyguards, but Malia¡¯s genuinely awful, bordering on non-existent introduction of him had about to bite him in the ass.

    Once again, he would be the collateral of someone else¡¯s lack of foresight.

    Honestly, Leo was just glad his food had time to settle before he was whisked off to any type of physical exercise.

    Damned if you do, damned if you don¡¯t, Leo considered as he was led to a stop on a line just behind the sergeant and another man who had been in front of them. All eyes were on him. All of them cultivators. Many of them were at the ignition stage like him, and most of them had passed him being put on display outside the cafeteria. Two of them, however, he could tell were 3<sup>rd</sup> Circle, or upper 2<sup>nd</sup> Circle at the lowest, and they were powerful. Something in Leo¡¯s vast experience let him know that these were the people who would be pitted against him.

    He was tired already.

    Many of his future assailants felt mana-dense and vibrant. Something was making them stronger. Some sort of body cultivation, perhaps? He¡¯d briefly poked his nose into cultivation when he¡¯d been given the chance the night before. For all his exhaustion, he couldn¡¯t help it. Especially since some of these people just felt¡­ More.

    Leo really needed to go through what the AI had told him, but he was glad he¡¯d grabbed what little sleep he could while he had the opportunity.

    He itched to head back to his room, to talk with the AI¡­ if not companion, then at least temporary educator? The different types of cultivation (there were different types?) fascinated him

    He also wanted to know more about the layout of the ship.

 Chapter Nineteen: Trip to Death

    Chapter Nineteen:

    Leo spoke many languages. Seargeant Beaufoy ¨C or ¡®just Seargeant¡¯, as the man had insisted, he be called after finally introducing himself ¨C had at least had the decency to leave Leo alone during his breakfast.

    Wasn¡¯t that an interesting word, breakfast. The languages Leo spoke included English, Spanish, Confederation Common and Imperial Coalition, among another more obscure number of languages. It had become a habit of his to while away his hours learning new things, not least of which included both Earthside, and alien languages. He¡¯d found language learning to be an enjoyable pastime, and of all the languages he¡¯d learned, English had been the most entertaining. Finding out that breakfast literally meant to break ones fast was had been both illuminating and hilarious to an impressionable Leo.

    He¡¯d certainly been hungry long enough. Though, honestly, he genuinely hadn¡¯t expected he would be fed at all. Starvation was one of the oldest psychological tricks in the books. For all the talk of him being some sort of cultivator apprentice to the very scary boss lady, he had yet to experience anything different from the same contempt and revile he had been previously subjected to throughout the United North American Confederation.

    So, at breakfast, he had eaten the food not slowly, but patiently, diligently savouring every morsel.

    If the previous night was to be a potential measure for the care he would be shown throughout his internment aboard the ship, well, it was apparent to him that regular meals would probably be in his future.

    Idly, he wondered if that was a function of the people in charge of his care being cultivators. He made a note to ask the AI later.

    According to the Seargeant, break times were pre-scheduled based on both the area someone was assigned to and to the relative hierarchy of the individual within it. That meant that Leo would technically be within his rights to demand first access to, well, everything. He was a direct disciple after all¡­ Big kahunas and all that.

    Leo, of course, knew better than to take technicality for reality. In reality, Leo was hungry, and playing nice got him fed.

    Currently he was happily scraping the bottom of the bowl and the edges of the now-empty tray to get any last morsel of sauce or dripping. As he looked into the face of the strange man who¡¯d come to his door, ¨C the Seargeant, he reminded himself ¨C to whom he would be beholden for the next, at minimum a day cycle, or whatever that accounted for on this ship.

    Yeah.

    He steeled himself using some of the resolve he¡¯d honed over years and years of being trapped under somebody else¡¯s power.

    Someday¡­ Someday, he promised himself.

    Leo was smiling as he stood from his seat across from the captain. It was an easy task to place his tray in the dishwashing receptacle, along with several other people who were in tactical gear similar to the Sergeant¡¯s. Leo had been given robes. It was obvious that he wasn¡¯t exactly a member of the staff as he stood alongside the people in tactical gear.

    Was it purposely done? Of course it was. Leo didn¡¯t even bother with any outward expression of annoyance or dissatisfaction.

    Leo did not like to stand out. Standing out was a good way to get singled out, and being singled out was, in Leo¡¯s extensive experience, not a good move. It was that same experience that had taught him that the nail that sticks out gets hammered down.

    As he shuffled away, the Seargeant basically standing on his heels, he couldn¡¯t help but be cognizant of the enmity he was garnering with his mere presence. It was like him wearing a robe in this place of work boots, tacticals, and otherwise aggressively practical clothing was not only a sign that he did not belong, but the fact that he was present at all seemed to be a signal that the ¡®new-guy¡¯ was fair game.

    So, Leo soldiered on. Eyes to the ground, following along behind the Sarg like a meek little puppy, nobody able to see his lip curled below the ¡®obedient dog¡¯ look. He could play meek, he¡¯d played meek before, but if these people thought for a moment that he was playing into their games¡­ Well¡­You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    It was probably the appearance of the combat room that eventually shook Leo out of his follow-the-leader act.

    A training room with mats, dummies, and weapons was a big contributor to him breaking out of the survival mode stupor he¡¯d found himself in. Huge, actually.

    Leo allowed himself this temporary moment of apparent weakness. No Losing Focus! He reminded himself as he stood, head bowed, being judged like he had actively submitted himself to inspection.

    Leo felt a tingling sensation akin to a special enchantment envelop the group of people that Leo had just been introduced to. He could tell they were in a training room, and that they were safe ¨C as relative as that term got ¨C but everything else was obscured to him.

    He, and the people alongside him, had been led from the general training area, where a few very early participants were diligently working away, to this new place. Leo knew it was a new place due to the surprise and apprehension pouring through the people he¡¯d been transported with. He also couldn¡¯t help but notice that a majority of the strangers were dressed in the tactical gear the Seargeant favoured, and not the robes Leo himself had been supplied with.

    So, the group was led by an irate monster of a man through a door that led to what looked like a racecourse that was prepared beside a particularly nasty obstacle course.

    Obviously, Leo had not received any prior preparation, and just as obviously that didn¡¯t seem to matter to his fellow obstacle-course-participants.

    As an isolation tactic, this was, frankly, pretty clever¡­

    As Leo sent out imaginary kudos to his kidnappers, and equally imaginary middle fingers to whoever wrote the book they got their tactics from, Leo settled himself in for a long morning.

    It was remarkable how people, regardless of species, time, or location could create a track that was near identical to the ones he recognized from his student days.

    This track was also ovular in shape and obviously built for running, though it had definite markings indicating places where modifications could be made for different activities.

    Leo was both excited and dismayed. In the few years of public schooling he¡¯d been allowed to attend before his ¡®condition¡¯ had made it not only impractical but a genuine danger to himself and others if he insisted on continuing to attend, he¡¯d loved track and field. He loved using his body, being fast, strong and swift. He¡¯d won more than a few competitions. Sometimes he felt like ¨C he hated to sound clich¨¦ even as he though it within the sanctity of his mind ¨C but he loved unleashing himself.

    It was like he was always tethered and only occasionally did he get to emerge. He cherished those moments in which he had been able to just¡­ go.

    Something told him, though, that this wouldn¡¯t be the free release of action that he had so long looked forward to. It only took one look at the people around him to let him know this wouldn¡¯t just be an act of pure, jubilant exertion.

    ¡°This is Instructor Zeus,¡± said the Seargeant, introducing the young man to the person in charge of him.

    ¡°Hello,¡± said the man. Not meeting his eyes, or the eyes of the many people who had been abruptly transported into the room.

    ¡®This was planned¡¯ Leo thought, his eyes darting around the room, lips pressed tightly together.

    Leo gave the man a short bow. ¡°Instructor,¡± he said.

    The Seargeant¡¯s upper lip twitched as he nodded once before turning back to the instructor. ¡°You will listen to every order he gives and follow it to the letter.¡±

    Leo held tightly to that phrase. Not the spirit, but the letter. The man had said it himself. He would follow orders, but he would follow them to the letter. Leo had years of experience working around letters. He had been forced to do it for basic survival for too long not to know.

    Yes, he would follow orders. It would hurt. It would humiliate. But pride had never been his downfall. It had been those fickle things like exhaustion, starvation, pain. He aggressively brought his thoughts back out of the place they had gone to before bowing at exactly the angle the textbook he was grateful he¡¯d read the night before indicated.

    Of course, he was starting to get the idea that this Stargazer woman had no idea what it meant to have a direct disciple. If his limited reading had him aware of anything, it was that there was meant to be a lot more pomp-and-circumstance to the occasion. He was supposed to be paraded about, held upon high like some saviour of the clan. Aggressively celebrated and praised.

    Was this some obscure hazing ritual? Was he not actually ¡®Malia-Stargazer¡¯s-Direct-Disciple¡¯. What was going on, and why the mind games?

    Leo didn¡¯t just want to simply survive; he wanted to thrive, and that meant not making enemies where enemies needn¡¯t be made.

    So, he would wait. He¡¯d wait for his answers, he¡¯d wait for his results to speak for themselves. Leo would wait.

    And Wait.

    As no instruction was given, everyone simply stood there, even as the Seargeant left and the instructor remained, giving orders to people Leo wouldn¡¯t even turn to see as he maintained his position.

    Eventually, he was relieved to go and stand with the people he assumed he would be participating (in whatever event) with.

    Petty tyrants, he thought, glancing briefly down at his own robe, and well-made but obviously not delicately tailored pants and shirts both he and the other recruits were wearing before finding his place in line and preparing for another very, very long day.

    At least he wouldn¡¯t trip to death.

 Temporary Author Notice

    Hello everyone. Thanks so much for all your support so far, silent or otherwise.

    I''ll be delaying today''s chapter and probably taking next week off to stockpile some as well as do some re-writes and fix some plot points on my last three chapters. I''ve been unfortunately unwell this past week and hoped to get more done, but life happens while your busy planning or something like that. I''ll be sure to put up a TL;DR when they''re done and have been re-uploaded, then we should be buisness as usual. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

    Thanks for all your patience.