“I won’t accept that, Rihal. I’ll carve out his flesh by any means possible,” Jerome wasn't willing to accept that Hedon would most likely be unbeatable with his Epos.

“Well, you’ll have to find your own Epos then, because without one to boost your strength, you’ve got no chance of beating him,” Rihal said as they walked deeper into the Royal Estate. He was an assassin, so fighting wasn’t really his strong suit, even if he could go toe-to-toe with any Spirit Realm artist in Vorthe. But he definitely would hesitate to fight someone with such power.

I won’t be able to get close because of the vastness of their domain, he thought, creating a scenario in his head mirroring Jerome’s predicament. I’ll drill into the ground but they’ll Will the ground to compress, which’ll make it harder to escape. Throwing knives won’t reach them. I’ll take—

“How do I create one, then?” Jerome asked. If he couldn't beat Hedon, he'd level the playing field.

Rihal guffawed loudly, his reverie having been disrupted by Jerome's questions. His disciple was clearly delusional if he thought he could just create an Epos. Or just plain ignorant, Rihal thought, fighting back his laughter.

“You can’t,” he said after calming down. He observed Jerome walking on both legs. The kid had gotten a lot better as the days went by. Jerome’s channels were healed already and apparently, a lot stronger.

“What’d you mean I can’t?” Jerome asked. He stopped and frowned at Rihal. He wouldn't accept that. The Epos Hedon wielded was the creation of another, he should be able to create his own too.

“You can ask the Sovereign when you see him, his answer should be more comprehensive than anything I can tell you,” Rihal said as he observed Jerome’s right leg approvingly. It was mostly healed, though he still walked with a limp, it was barely noticeable.

Jerome had never been to this part of the Royal Estate before, and he found that the Royal Estate could be considered a city all on its own—a far more beautiful city than the city of Farryn. They walked up to a gigantic manor gracing the world in all its splendor, with beautifully decorated white walls. Guards stood at the front of the manor in shining golden armor, while others patrolled the perimeter. Rihal took Jerome into the manor through the back where a maid ushered him to a room on the top floor of the manor.

“Greetings, Sovereign,” he went down on one knee with a fist to his chest as he entered the room. The Sovereign was already waiting for him.

“You may rise,” he said.

Jerome rose and looked around. The entire room was exquisitely decorated. And even so, it had a masculine touch to it. The Sovereign spun slowly around in his high-backed chair to face Jerome with a puzzled look on his face. Jerome quickly sent his gaze downwards.

He was dressed quite smartly for the occasion: loose black outer robes with blue patterns gracing the surface of the robe like dancing flames in the shape of a dragon—a representation of his blue flames, it seemed. Though, he felt quite uncomfortable in three layers of clothing.

“You’re different somehow. What have you been up to?” the Sovereign asked, his voice slow and sure, like that of a man who had won all his battles.

“Me?” Jerome asked with suspicion.

“Yes, you. What have you been up to?”

Jerome put his thoughts together before speaking. The sovereign was no ordinary man one could just say anything in front of. He had to watch his thoughts and words just by being in the Sovereign's presence.

“I’ve been practicing the mind scan, among…other things.”

The Sovereign furrowed his brows, almost appearing intimidating. He sat up in his high-backed chair, linking his fingers in front of him with his elbows on the armrest as his gaze bore into Jerome.

What now! Jerome thought to himself, flustered. The Sovereign’s gaze was too strong to hold, his irises like black orbs that pull you in like a magnet.

The Sovereign was silent for a long time just gazing at him with unblinking eyes. Under the scrutiny of those eyes, Jerome could do nothing more than shiver where he was. He busied himself scanning the red and gold tapestries and white backdrops decorating the walls. The white glowing orbs of light hovering a foot or so from the roof also piqued his interest. The Sovereign turned around again without a word, facing the wall opposite Jerome.

Huh. The chair’s hovering above the ground, Jerome observed.

“Come over, Jerome. We have much to discuss,” the Sovereign said. He slightly stretched out his right hand with his palm up and an orb on a table by his side floated onto his hand.

“Gratitude, Sovereign,” Jerome said as he walked up to the Sovereign.

“So, you’ve been practicing the mind scan?” the Sovereign said, rubbing the orb absently with his thumb.

“Yes, Sovereign,” Jerome answered as he stood beside the Sovereign’s little table, slightly distracted by the Sovereign’s thumb. He shook his head and peeled his gaze away, resisting whatever pull the Sovereign’s movements had on him.

“Scan me then.”

“I wouldn’t dare, Sovereign!” Jerome said without hesitation, bowing his head. That was an unexpected request. One that would be disrespectful to someone of the Sovereign’s status.

Although the Sovereign was his biological father, that was just a technicality. They had no familial bonds between them, and Jerome wouldn’t want a bond like that—not from someone who would kill him at the end of the day. Then he remembered that the Sovereign could read minds and his heart sped up like crazy. Yun Vorthe looked at him for a while as if trying to decipher a code or something.

“Why can’t I read you anymore?” he asked at last.

“What?” Jerome muttered as his heartbeat sounded like drums in his ears. He didn’t know what was going on anymore, but he quickly caught the gist of the matter. Can’t read me anymore? Does that mean…can’t read my mind…? He felt elated at the possibility! He quickly tamped down his excitement, lest the Sovereign catch on to it.

“It is as you heard,” the Sovereign confirmed his thoughts. “Does this have anything to do with whatever helped you reign in the beast at Pilgrims’ Keep?”

Jerome’s heart sped up again. His anxiety was laid bare before the Sovereign. Even if he wanted to give an answer, he had no idea if this was true or not. So he just gave the best he could.

“Perhaps, Sovereign.”

Yun Vorthe chuckled coldly. “Your heart is racing, Jerome," he stated. “Like you, are trying to hide something from me.” His every word was laced with a presage that reminded Jerome of the calm before the storm.

Jerome’s anxiety intensified greatly and his heartbeat increased rapidly. He began sweating profusely, every instinct pushing him to prostrate and beg for forgiveness for withholding information from the Sovereign.

“Relax,” the Sovereign said after a while, “I will not hurt you.”

Jerome felt the pressure lift off of him at that moment. His heart rate began to normalize and he sagged from relief, bending down to keep himself from falling. He became bitter. The Sovereign was clearly manipulating him somehow—however he was doing it, there was neither essence nor mental energy involved. He didn’t even think to rotate his core to get rid of the discomfort just now!

That may be one of his many abilities. Jerome thought to himself. This man is dangerous. He just pulls you in, making you forget to do even the simplest things, like cycle to get rid of discomfort. Or making you feel vulnerable…how do you do it? That question was directed at the Sovereign, but he could as well have caused his own demise if he asked it out loud.

“I do want to know how far you have gone in your training though, so, scan me,” the Sovereign said once more.

“If the Sovereign wishes it so, then who am I not to oblige,” Jerome said, composing himself.

“You may go ahead,” the Sovereign said.

Jerome bowed low. “Forgiveness for the intrusion then,” he said.

Yun Vorthe waited for him to prepare himself, but Jerome just went ahead and did it, like no preparations were necessary. Yun felt it, the subtle pressure invading his being. It was meticulous and thorough, moving through every sinew and bone like a physician’s gaze…but extremely weak. He knew Jerome still had a long way to go but as a Sprout, this was still considered weak.

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When Jerome scanned his core, he gasped in awe. There was nothing to scan, like the ruler of Vorthe had no core at all. It didn’t make any sense! Rihal also does this but not like this! He thought. Rihal’s core was always veiled, but not to the point of being non-existent!

Is he trying to hold back? Yun Vorthe thought to himself. He wondered if this had anything to do with the fact that Jerome was injured. If he was injured in his soul, that would make his mental energy weak. Yun didn’t concern himself with that anyway. As long as there was a vessel to carry the seed of darkness, all was well.

“You are very thorough…and meticulous in scanning, but are you holding back?” the Sovereign asked.

“No, Sovereign. Does it feel like I held back?” Jerome asked, befuddled.

“It was weak,” Yun Vorthe nodded. “But Sprouts your age usually prepare themselves mentally before scanning, hence they use too much mental energy. But you didn’t need such preparation. That seems to me like an advantage.”

Jerome nodded contemplatively. That felt like a pat on the back—maybe with a little less emotion. He knew since he hadn’t had enough time to practice, he couldn’t compare to those who had had years of practice.

But still, I had hoped… Jerome sighed, I can’t depend on hope.

“If I may, Sovereign. I did a thorough examination of my core last night and I found the seed of darkness at the very center of it.”

“So?”

“The problem is, it’s siphoning my essence,” Jerome said, “At least half of what I absorb goes into it. It’s like a black hole with no bottom.”

“Well, does that hinder you?” the Sovereign asked softly.

“Not really.”

“Does it make you weaker than those in your realm?” the Sovereign asked again, trying to get Jerome to see his point.

“I can’t say, Sovereign, since I haven’t battled anyone in my Realm lately.”

“So?”

“It’s just, perhaps I’ll be able to do a lot more if I kept my essence for myself,” Jerome said hesitantly. Though, something in him told him this was wishful thinking.

“You see the seed as separate from you,” the Sovereign said, playing with the crystal ball in his palm.

Jerome did. And right now he was feeling like the Sovereign wasn’t taking this seriously.

“It doesn't take from you, Jerome. It stores for you.”

“How so?” he asked. Now, this was interesting.

“Everything the darkness takes from you it gives back ten folds. Have you ever found yourself exhausted from a lack of essence in your core?”

“...” Jerome had nothing to say to that. Now that I think of it, he thought. I never have.

“What we should talk about, is how you turned to stone and survived three years under a river,” The Sovereign smiled at him.

“Huh, I guess so,” Jerome answered uncomfortably. Truth be told he was curious as well, he just didn't like being an experiment for others to poke at and prod.

“That stone of yours, is very likely the source of your petrification, and mayhaps the reason why I cannot sense visha stirh’aun on you,” the Sovereign said contemplatively.

Jerome flinched. I can’t hide anything from you, can I? He thought.

The Sovereign clearly understood the mysteries and principles of this world better than anyone around him, so seeing through his physical form would not be an issue. Rihal had said sacred artists could perceive things through walls. What would a sacred artist as powerful as the Sovereign be able to accomplish with such a powerful perception? He thought.

He almost expected the Sovereign to respond to his thoughts, then remembered he’d said he couldn't read him anymore.

That's probably the work of the mind-calming stone too, he thought excitedly.

“What do you think about our world today, Jerome,” Yun Vorthe asked, having lost interest in Jerome’s miracle stone. It was something he had no clue about—which was a rarity in itself—so he’d rather investigate the owner for clues rather than ask questions Jerome clearly didn’t have answers to.

“Today?” Jerome asked, confused.

“It should be far different from what you once knew, should it not?” The Sovereign asked, confident that the level of advancement in Jerome’s previous life could not compare to what existed in the kingdom of Vorthe at present.

“Forgiveness, Sovereign, but my previous life wasn’t here,” Jerome pointed downwards, “on this planet.”

The Sovereign glanced his way with a straight face, his expression calm, but Jerome saw his pupils dilate, just for a split second. He quickly turned away, lest the Sovereign see him smile and be offended.

Nah, he thought, chiding himself playfully. He’s the Sovereign, he won’t care about whatever I do.

“Tell me about this world, then,” Yun Vorthe said. Things were getting rather interesting. If there were more worlds out there, it could mean trouble. If he didn’t want a repeat of the past, he’d best learn what he could…and fast. He settled into his high-backed chair to give Jerome a sense of safety. No need to make him feel threatened, he thought.

This was one of the perks and one could say, bane, of being a Transcendent being. Every gesture or word had to be made or expressed with great care else he ended up overloading the senses of the people around him. His presence was as vast as an ocean in the minds of lesser beings, bearing down on them with a colossal amount of pressure! He had killed people with a look because of this.

“Ahem. One thing that stood out there was measurement,” Jerome started. He had brooded over this for a while so it wasn’t hard to come up with something interesting to say on the spot.

“Measurement?” the Sovereign repeated, not fathoming Jerome’s point.

“Measurement of everything. It made life and discoveries, experimentation and whatnots, easier.”

The Sovereign said nothing, so Jerome continued.

“We measured time, distance, heat, cold…pressure, as minutely as possible,” somehow he missed his old world: the technology, art — even though he spent most of his life in a hospital bed.

The Sovereign looked up at him, his mask of calm almost faltering. “These could not be the most important things in your previous world, could they?”

“Oh, but they were important,” Jerome said. “ We had no sacred artists, couldn’t see very far with our naked eyes, couldn’t wield the elements… the list goes on.”

The Sovereign nodded in understanding. Without the extraordinary gifts and perception of sacred artists, it would have been difficult to do almost anything without the use of tools. With that, he relaxed completely. Jerome’s former world could by no means be a threat to this one.

“Measuring time,” Yun Vorthe muttered absently.

“...in durations shorter than a breath,” Jerome added.

“How did you achieve that?” the Sovereign asked, his interest piqued. He never expected this to be a far more interesting topic than he had thought.

“I don’t know all the details, but it had something to do with the rotation and revolution of the planet,” Jerome paused to gather his thoughts.

“Where you taught that planets rotate?” the Sovereign asked. This planet of Jerome’s was beginning to sound interesting. He had a lot of questions; like how they figure out the revolution and rotation of the planet? Clearly they must have found a way to leave the surface to study all these.

He could’ve just taken the answers directly from Jerome’s mind but it seems fate wasn’t being fair to him concerning Jerome. He stopped playing with his orb and cast his gaze on Jerome, making him flinch back a bit. Yun Vorthe sat back in his chair, lessening the burden on Jerome’s senses a little.

“Ahem. Yes, Sovereign, and that planets are round,” Jerome said, regaining his composure. The system of education in Vorthe was so archaic, that Jerome could only laugh at their ignorance.

“Education was permitted for everyone in the time period I lived in,” he added. “Not just those of noble blood.”

“Fascinating,” the Sovereign muttered, turning his gaze away from Jerome. It was getting harder to hold himself back. Just a bit. “We educate our children by exposing them to specific Paths, with specific disciplines,” the Sovereign said. “Rihal, for example, was raised as an assassin, so he knows very little about politics or Alchemy.”

“Yes, Sovereign.” Jerome said, “But what if in his growing days, he was introduced to more than just assassinations?” he asked.

“He was,” Yun Vorthe said, “but mayhaps, not to the magnitude you speak of. You also speak of educating those not of your bloodline—everyone you say,” the Sovereign shook his head slowly with a smile. “The Great clans would fight against that with a vengeance.”

“The same strategy can’t work in this world, obviously,” Jerome stated. He’d be a fool to expect powerful families like the Feis and the Alvrics to give their millennia-old knowledge—gathered, preserved, and sustained—to those not of their bloodline. Perhaps they might be willing to give an offshoot of lower standards to their disciples. “The knowledge and skills of powerful families are more like powerful inheritances linked to their bloodline. In the hands of an outsider, it may be abused. But…,” Jerome said, claiming back the Sovereign’s attention. “You could create groups—sects and schools—that’ll accept disciples through multiple screenings, and raise them as part of a collective.”

The Sovereign smiled. The kid clearly grew to be an adult in his past life. It’ll be unwise to look at him as a child. He thought.

“That has been tried before but it did not work out quite as planned,” the Sovereign said, “Bloodline it seems, holds firmer and lasts the test of time,” he said as though in reminiscence of the past. Various things had been tried. That was what led to the creation of the Diviners. And now they had too many factions, many of which had become cults and participated in unlawful and questionable activities.

“That was from Zama’el Vorthe, the 3rd Generation Sovereign of Vorthe,” the Sovereign said.

Bloodline holds firmer and lasts the test of time, Jerome repeated to himself as he nodded. It was a nice quote. Very ‘sage-like’. But he didn’t see how sects and schools could have failed. It wasn’t his place to question the Sovereign, though—or a long-dead ancestral Sovereign at that. If he’s even dead. Jerome glanced at the Sovereign, wondering how old he was. The Sovereign didn’t look a day older than twenty-five.

Yun Vorthe looked at the orb in his hand and stated, “It’s about to begin.”

The orb in the Sovereign’s hand erupted with a soft golden glow and the wall in front of them started to evanesce, startling Jerome. He looked around and found that the room they were in was slowly but visibly changing, or more like vanishing. Soon, they were hovering in the air, above a massive and glamorous hall!