"I heard everything you said, and unlike these two, I'm not so naive as to trust you just because you've 'rescued' us."
Rynn strode past the sea of hovering platters, coming to a rest just beside them. His gaze was sharp, but his aura remained relaxed, as did his body.
"So tell me, Honored Saint, what are your motives? If you truly cared about us, you would have saved us the first time you came to Paradise, not just shy of two decades later. That's even disregarding the thousands of people left on that world, still underneath the matriarch."
Kiro's thoughts raced. Was the Saint truly just using them for her own selfish gain? Did they escape a mantis's grasp only to be entangled in a spider's web? He looked at her, horrified, but she just laughed.
"Oh, dear disciples, I'm sorry. It's totally reasonable for you to think that, given your upbringing and the cluster's state as a whole."
Seira opened her mouth, probably to ask what 'the cluster' was, but Aer had already moved on.
"Really, there were a couple reasons I didn't just take everyone on Paradise with me when we left. If you think about it, the first one is fairly obvious. How many of your clansmen do you think would have accepted my offer? Seira, I only got you to change your mind about me being a Huang clan spy because I made that crack in the ground. If I had to do that even a couple more times, your matriarch would have detected me, which leads me to my second reason."
She waved her hand, and a stone table, much larger than the one in the corner, floated in from outside. The trays started piling on, and the puffy chairs arranged themselves next to it. She motioned for them to sit, and they did so.
"When I first came to Paradise, I would have struggled to defeat a Third Circle mystic like your matriarch. Even now, I'd have to injure myself to protect your clan if she decided to hold them hostage — that's why I fought her as soon as she arrived on that world with the golden drake."
She conjured a ball of wind, tossing it up and down in her palm.
"Air is good for a lot of things, but shielding against attacks isn't one of them. Our main defenses are pushing attacks away and evading them entirely, and while I might be able to do that for a small group, the population of Paradise is a bit much to protect, even for me."
The ball dispersed, and she picked up her fork. "Here, let's eat up!"
Kiro let out a breath, the tension slowly dissolving. Of course Aer wasn't going to do something like the matriarch! Everything she did radiated kindness! His stomach grumbled, and he reached with his chopsticks for a piece of delectable-looking fried dough.
Seira did the same, but Rynn was still focused on Aer. "You haven't answered my question yet, Saint. What are your motivations?"
Their master laughed again, chewing on a piece of roast beef. "Of course, of course. Grab some food, though. We don't want it to get cold!"
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
The man grabbed a veggie skewer, leaning back. "Alright. Now, tell me."
"Okay." The Saint took a deep breath, all humor gone from her eyes. "Well, to understand where I'm coming from, you'll need to know my story..."
***
FIVE THOUSAND TWO HUNDRED THIRTY NINE YEARS AGO
Once, there lived a Saint of immense power. Admired for both her beauty and her battle prowess, the Saint of Boundless Wind had no equal on her world. Despite being a tender one hundred fifty years old, she had already far surpassed the reigning Saints, reaching stages that mystics thought impossible. Everywhere she went, the people would bow before her, begging for even a glance from the great Saint that ruled the world. Yet, she paid them no heed. The world was governed by the law of the jungle, and the weak deserved no attention from the strong. And, as was fitting for one of the strong, she established her own faction.
The Sect of Boundless Wind swept through the land, clashing with every other faction in its pursuit of glory. Its members trained tirelessly for the approval of their sect leader, growing so powerful that none could stand in their way.
They waged war after war, forcing all the other sects and clans off their own land. Its members grew more and more ferocious, to the point where more fighting was done within the sect anywhere else. The strong rose to the top, and everyone else was trampled beneath their footsteps.
Yet, even as the Saint reached the peak of her ruthlessness, she had found love. A lowly Diffusion stage mystic, from a small town she had saved on a whim. Despite not even being at the peak of the Third Circle, this man had connected with her in a way that nobody else had. She immediately swept him up, proposing to him in a way that only the most powerful woman in the world could. Of course, he accepted. But he did not conform to her will.
She offered him countless ways to power, but he declined each and every one, stating that he would rather find his own way up. And so, she was forced to question every decision she had ever made. If all that mattered was strength, why was she falling for this Diffusion-stage nobody? All of the Saints from her rival sects would denounce their allegiance if it meant being with her, and yet it was this barely-extraordinary man that she had chosen.
He became her advisor, and stopped the relentless fighting that plagued the Sect of Boundless Wind. With each thought of his brilliant mind, he brought their faction into a new light, transforming the bloodthirsty mob of mystics into a compassionate, disciplined school of warriors. He spoke to her of kindness, virtue, and grace, slowly snapping her from her power-mad trance.
However, no matter how much good he brought, he had always been an outsider. His aspect was one of electricity, a clear difference from the traditional wind. So, as thanks for his incredible contributions — to pay homage to the man who reformed their lives and remade their leader — the Sect of Boundless Wind changed.
And, as the Saint's understanding of her husband's aspect increased, she changed as well. As if to signify her new path as a generous ruler, her aspect ascended, growing to match the new title of her sect. Now, no longer was the Saint of Boundless Wind — she had been reborn to the Saint of Endless Storms.
Yet, it was not meant to be. When the other Saints — the leaders of each and every faction she had once forced out — confronted her, she fell back to her old ways, striking them down as they tried to make peace with the woman that had singlehandedly destroyed their lives. Seeing that the rumors of her newfound virtue were false, they joined together to defeat her, fighting in a battle that could be felt from across the continent.
However, even the combined strength of half a dozen immortals was not enough to wholly defeat the Saint of Endless Storms. So, the other Saints sealed her underneath a mountain, where they prayed she would rest for all eternity. They then razed her sect to the ground, so as to prevent any who wished to free her.
When she woke, thousands of years later, it was to a broken world. After millenia of healing, the ground upon which her sect used to stand remained charred, a gruesome reminder of the countless lives her arrogance had cost her. Even with a body so mangled that it was a wonder she could even stand, it was seeing the ruins of her precious sect that inflicted the most pain.