Nath

“98 …. 99 …. 100”

Feeling the strain in his shoulders and arms as Nath completed his last set of handstand pushups, he collapsed into the snow surrounding him. His body steamed around him as he attempted to catch his breath and get his muscles back under his control. After sometime, he was able to sit up and watch as the sun finished rising above the peaks of the mountains around him. Shivering from the cold he quickly stood up and put back on his clothes.

While making his way back to the village, Nath thought back on the last 6 years. Everything he had done was to prepare for his upcoming 14th birthday, which marked the day he would be heading out to complete the Bloodline Ritual. He wasn’t sure what to expect from this ritual. Beyond the knowledge that it always took 3 years, nothing was ever told to the children of the village on what the ritual was until they set out for the ritual. From seeing off several of the older children when they embarked, he also knew that you could only take what you earned and could carry. As such he had made an effort to work for one of the villagers to earn a few items.

The villager that he worked for was Ailill, the village inker. Originally, he didn’t understand why the villagers were getting tattoos but once he started working under Ailill the reason became clear. By imbuing the ink with special materials, the ‘tattoos’ are able to act as a conduit to channel their bloodlines abilities. They also are able to help the bearer synchronize with their bloodline. One of the abilities that stood out to him was Jenell’s. Her tattoo gave her the ability of flight by unfurling a pair of wings.

The cultivation of this time was greatly different from what he was used to in his previous life. In the past, children at the age of 8 would choose whether they wished to pursue hardship or spiritual cultivation. By the time they were around the age of 12 they would have already broken through the first stage and entered the second stage. In the current era no matter how much he trained and attempted to cultivate he couldn’t make any progress of breaking through even to the first stage.

Nath asked the elders in his village only to find out that until he gained a bloodline he would not be able to cultivate. Thinking about this just soured Nath’s happy mood. He couldn’t help but feel frustrated at the lack of progress. If only he could have gained a bloodline before his 14th birthday he might have been at the 4th or 5th stage of cultivation.

While thinking such thoughts, Nath quietly arrived at the village. Briskly walking through the village, he arrived in front of a small clearing with a few tents. At the age of 12 the children had to create their own tents and live away from the hut to prepare for when they would set out for the ritual. His tent like all the others was made up of animal skins sewn together and held up using wood.

Entering through the front flap, Nath looked around at the sparse interior. The floor was covered in furs to help protect from the chill of the ground. A small raised metal pan held burning embers that kept the tent warm. Besides the small fire sat a sizable wooden basin of water. To the left was a raised platform with a grass filled mattress and furs to sleep in. To the right were several small pillows meant for sitting. Fully stepping inside, Nath couldn’t help but sigh at the noticeably warmer temperature inside the tent.

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Reaching under his bed, Nath pulled out a new pair of clothes and a cloth rag. Walking over to his basin of water, Nath quickly cleaned himself and switched into a clean pair of clothes. Casually tossing aside his old clothes in the tent, Nath stepped outside. He heard someone call his name. Looking around he spotted a young man making his way towards him.

“Fearghal! I thought you would have left for your Bloodline Ritual by now?”

“I will be leaving to undergo my ritual tonight!” Smiling and flourishing the spear that was at his side “I came to show off this! Gobnait had me craft this all by myself!” then mumbling “Although she had me keep it because it was too ‘shitty’.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle seeing the normally happy kid deflate so quickly. I could tell at a glance the spear was well made. Gobnait was probably just too embarrassed to tell him he did a good job. Watching his face slowly turn red at my chuckling, I couldn’t help but burst out into an uproarious laughter.

“HMPH, like Ailill even lets you practice!”

“Yeah, but unlike smithing, inking requires cultivation to do.”

Pointing his new spear at my face, he said seriously “Just you watch that mouth of yours. When I return from my Bloodline Ritual you will have to show me more respect or else you won’t receive anything from our village's greatest smith!” Saying such he promptly turned around and stormed off. Shaking my head at Fearghal I couldn’t help but think ‘like teacher like student’.

Making my way through the village I arrived in front of a cobblestone hut. Opening the wooden door, I looked down into the darkness of the stairs that were held within. Stepping inside I felt along the left wall for the recessed chest. Reaching into the chest, I removed one of the light crystals held within. The sensitive nature of what was done within required the use of these stones to prevent soot and ashes from torches possibly contaminating what was within.

After walking down the stairs for several minutes I could feel the air start to heat up. Eventually the stairs led into a large circular room where several doors were spread across. I entered the door that was directly in front of the stairs. The door led me into a long hallway that was filled with intricate carvings of what appeared to be letters or symbols of some sort. I had asked my teacher about these and he would just tell me that I could not learn them yet.

Reaching the end of the hallway I faced the heavy metal doors. Steeling myself for what was to come I pushed the doors open. As the doors swung open, I was assaulted by the iron stench of blood. I stepped inside and closed the doors behind me. Turning around I surveyed the room around me. In the center of the room laid a rectangular stone table large enough for even the biggest of men to be able to lay down on. The walls were filled with shelves that contained an assortment of jars. On the far side of the room below the shelves laid several large chests. Along the left wall was a workbench and a writing desk. Sitting at the writing desk with his back towards me was my teacher. He was an older man with white hair that just never seemed to run out of energy.

Hearing me enter, my teacher looked up from the book he had been scribbling in. “Ah! You're finally here!” he said in his wispy voice. “I was growing worried. Quickly come over here. There is much to do and little time left. We will have to work through the night to finish this properly” Pointing to the workbench he continued “I need you to mix all of the crystals on the workbench into the jars containing Leucistic Purussaurus blood”.

Looking over at the workbench I couldn’t help but be shocked at the sight. On the bench was a small mountain of crystals and several jars of blood. Most tattoos would require much less blood and only a few crystals. “Are you sure this is the correct amount? Who would require all of this for their tattoo?”

Smirking my teacher said “You will learn tonight” as he turned his attention back to his book.