A white sky above a white plain, all pristine and unmarked; heat and cold at the same time; a river flowing and a moment frozen for an eternity—Mags lay suspended in it all.
She could have stayed there forever, knowing such peace. A second and a century later, however, a voice intruded on her tranquility. Remember this perfection, Yuze said, for it will be the last time you touch it until you've surpassed the Ninth Ring. Now is not the time for rest. Now you must be as the smith and the forge at once, building the foundation of something strong and lovely.
The white burned away like a curtain of fog under the sun. Mags grieved its going, mourned that absolute existence as it left her little by little. Shapes emerged amid the expansiveness, and there, sitting with legs folded neatly, was a young boy wearing simple white robes. Something about his round face seemed familiar. When he smiled, Mags remembered. Yuze? she asked, her words internal yet all around.
The boy giggled and wrinkled his nose. Got it in one! Welcome, Marigold. You've seen a glimpse of the sublime. May you cherish the moment as long as you live.
So... I'm not dead?
Again, young Yuze laughed. It was strange, watching his mouth move yet only hearing the echoes of his laughter in her mind. I'd say the truth is closer to this: For the first time, Marigold Strongtower, you live. Even beyond the Rift, in the vastness that is the Unbound Realm, few are given such an opportunity. Are you ready to begin?
Mags wasn't sure what the trickster meant. As long as she'd known Yuze, he'd not once explained himself. Despite the ambiguity that surrounded her, she felt pulled along by a deep and unrelenting curiosity. No, a drive, an urgency to do... something. So she told him a simple and earnest truth. I've always been ready.
The boy Yuze grinned. The outline of his body flickered, and for a moment, she saw the aged being hidden beneath the façade, not sagging with decline but timeless, eyes so deep they rivaled Gorb's. He bowed his head sagely and said, Endure and enjoy what you can. The First Ring, like all the rest, knows the shape it must become. Your job is not to guide it but to provide essence, to witness, and to experience the wonder as it unfolds. It is the challenge that follows that will test your limits.
Her guide disappeared, and then an intense bodily sensation superseded all else. A pressure in her middle. Fire and a frigid wind stoking the flame. She had no mouth to scream nor a mind to express, so Mags took Yuze's words to heart. Her awareness was all. She endured, as he commanded, and at times, she did enjoy the process. The warm essence that composed her fundamental self poured into whatever magic was unfolding. It pooled, growing deeper and wider with every passing moment.
She witnessed the ocean of shimmering energy thicken and congeal. Watched the initial curve take shape and the perfectly formed ring it created as the miracle swept around to join and complete itself.
No sooner had the ring completed than a burst of energy flooded outwards in all directions. Mags marveled at the sight. Essence raced round and round the circle, gaining speed with every pass. It glowed brightly, and soon the pure white light was all she could see. The last thing she witnessed was the ring igniting with a holy flame.
Mags gasped. Her stomach spasmed, and her hands and feet burned. Has someone soaked me in oil and lit my soul on fire? she wondered. I’m here, aren’t I? A stone’s throw from Gorb and the others. I’m here and my body is my own. My, but that was…
The vision and journey of her First Ring came back to her. Overcome with too many emotions, she slumped to her side, chest heaving. She wept beneath the oak tree, face tight with a desperate grin. And Yuze the Wandering Sage sat with her while she learned to accept the truth of what she'd become.
Stolen novel; please report.
Eventually, the emotions ebbed. She rolled to her side and found a hand holding hers. The tawny brown of parchment and dappled in veins, it was perhaps the kindest hand she'd ever held. "Yuze?" she asked. "Is that you?"
The old man chuckled, and his grip tightened. "That is part of my name, yes. For the foreseeable future, however, I do believe it best if you call me Kiyashi."
Trembling and dewy with sweat, she sat up and allowed her eyes to adjust. Seemingly little time had passed. The sun was high above, and she could make out no discernible evidence she'd been out for long. "Kiyashi? Was that your name when you were young?"
Yuze shook his head. "It's a name and a title both, one every Cultivator strives to achieve in their lifetime. It means both master and guide. I'm to be your teacher, Mags," he said, using her nickname for the first time. "Are you ready for your first lesson?"
Mags held up a hand. Her mind was clearer than it had ever been, but all of these changes and revelations were too much to accept and move on from without a shred of context. "Hang on a bit. What's a Cultivator? And what are you going to teach me?"
"Both answers are branches of the same tree. I'm to teach you to grow strong, tall, and straight. Your First Ring has formed, which makes you the first of your kind. Never has a Cultivator been born in the Coherent Realms, and yet here we are." Yuze's brows bobbed on his forehead. "A Cultivator is one who strives to ascend ever higher. Similar to unlocking a Class and yet infinitely different, Cultivation is nonetheless a method of achieving power. One difference is that a Cultivator derives their power from essence, which is the cousin of mana. Both of these combine to make ether, the life force that animates the world."
Mags blinked, her mind churning faster and faster. Doubt and anxiety joined the excitement and joy she overflowed with.
Yuze cut through her panic by saying, "Your response is a perfect introduction to the First Principle. How can you understand my teaching if you lose yourself to worry and misperception? Listen and listen well. The First Principle is this: to achieve governance over the enemy, one must first achieve governance over oneself.”
Mags frowned. There was sense in his words, but as usual, little context was given to orient them.
"Still your thoughts. Guide the body," Yuze continued. "To achieve agency over the mind is the first step along your path. Without it, all power is but an illusion. This is the task I set before you." The Cultivator closed his eyes, drew in a breath through his nostrils, held it a moment, and then exhaled. He turned one hand up, and a small white flame blossomed in his palm. It burned perfectly, untouched by the wind and too bright to be dampened by the noonday sun.
Yuze snapped his hand shut and hopped to his feet. "Get comfortable, Marigold. It may seem simple, but believe me, to summon the Pristine Flame for the first time is no easy task." He swatted her on the shoulder as he strode toward camp. "Good luck!"
"Wait!" she called. "You want me to magic up fire in my hand? That’s my special task? How the hells is that possible? Yuze? Yuze, wait a second!"
The old man stopped on the fringe of the oak tree's shadow and turned. "Kiyashi," he said firmly. "Address me as Kiyashi from now on. And yes, I want you to magic up fire," he repeated, mouth crooked in a smile. “Reach within and grasp your First Ring, draw out a thread of its ever-burning fire. Only then will you advance.”
Yuze looked skyward, gaze relaxed and almost sleepy. “I summoned my first in a single day, though it may take you much longer. The Divine Fruit still burns within your belly. You won’t need sustenance, neither food nor water, though your body will crave both in time. I’ll check on you tomorrow at the same time. Oh,” he said, pointing a bony finger her way. “Don’t leave the shadow of the oak tree before completing your task. If you do, the spark I’ve given you will go cold.”
Mags stared at the old man's back as he plodded away, humming a whimsical tune. His head bobbed side to side, and for all the world, he looked like an elder on his way to meet up with friends for a game of tiles. Mother Querine guide me, she thought, taking a deep breath to calm herself. I've either lost my mind or I'm going to become a Cultivator, whatever that is.
The confusion and frustration that coiled around her mind softened. Yuze’s instructions rose to the surface of her consciousness, a trail of breadcrumbs. Her objective was simple: to master her body and mind enough to summon the Pristine Flame.
And as she closed her eyes in search of that bright ring within, hope rekindled in her heart.