The Aether God: Chapter 7 - Legendary Fallout
It’s hard to say, if greater want of skill appear in writing or in judging ill,
But, of the two, less dangerous is the offense to tire our patience, than mislead our sense.
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On this particularly beautiful Saturday morning, the mountaintops surrounding the Great Valley were adorned in the most gorgeous nether starlight. The radiant orb of serene Infernal Ether cast its gentle warmth upon the land. The seven Legendary Sects were carrying out their sacred duties in their breathtaking territories. Their courtyards were aglow, and many of their descendants walked peacefully through assorted gardens. Some sat, absorbing, condensing, or practicing martial techniques, while others read texts in the warm light. Their runeologists and ethologists studied or taught descendants outside, and their alchemists were lecturing, pointing at various ingredients in their gardens. Across the mountaintops, each sect was enjoying the wonderful fruits of their ancestors’s labor.
However, a similar event started playing out within each of their sanctuaries.
Aurora Sect Sanctuary - Throne Room
In the beautifully adorned throne room of the Aurora Sect, Aurelius Aurora sat upon his grand throne, as if a regal figure draped in shimmering robes of sky-blue. Sunlight filtered through stained glass windows, casting patterns of color upon the marble floors. Surrounding him were his loyal servants, their faces illuminated with reverence as they attended to their master's words. He was their esteemed sectmaster, and to many he was their patriarch.
“Truly, it is a splendid day,” Aurelius remarked, his voice resonating with authority. “The Great Valley has seldom displayed such radiance. The heavens are truly too kind.” His servants and a couple of descendants nodded in agreement, their sycophancy evident in every gesture.
“Send word to the Scorchbloom Sect," Aurelius continued, his gaze sweeping over two of his attendants. "Inform them that my little Latia’s wedding cake arrangements have been finalized. Bring with you an R6 Sacred Artifact from the treasury, and treat it with utmost care.”
His servants bowed and turned, but a sudden commotion disrupted the tranquility of the throne room. A servant burst through the doors, breathless and bringing with him urgent news.
“Esteemed Sectmaster Aurora!” the servant exclaimed.
Aurelius’s expression immediately became serious. “What is the beast’s rank?” he asked.
“It’s not a beast, esteemed sectmaster.”
Upon hearing this, Aurelius became confused. Never in his one-hundred-fifty years as the sect’s patriarch and master had his sanctuary ever been disturbed in such a manner, except regarding threats of the entire valley. His brow furrowed in curiosity. "This had better be important. Speak." he ordered.
The servant approached quickly, his expression troubled. "Sectmaster, I bring concerning news," he began, his voice tinged with unease. "Not a single one of our trade stalls have seen a customer today."
Aurelius's expression lightened. “Surely you jest,” he replied, his tone tinged with relief. "Our welkinean goods are of the highest quality in the valley. The swine of the Great Valley have favored them for thousands of years. They would do well to grovel for them more often. Remove yourself from my presence immediately.”
The servant shook his head, his expression grave. “Please esteemed sectmaster, it's not just us.” he continued. “Even the Starfall Sect's markets are practically empty.”
Aurelius's eyes narrowed with concern. "Does this have to do with the ethereal storm? Perhaps we should have done more to ensure the valley that they have no need to avoid shopping as usual?" he wondered aloud, his mind racing with possibilities.
“It’s worse, esteemed sectmaster. Three separate markets have sprung up, one of each trade. Each of them have begun selling a catalog more expansive than those of the Legendary Sects, but with significantly lower prices. Furthermore, they include R4 elixirs, manuscripts, and artifacts.”
Aurelius stood confounded, wondering if this was a prank being played on him by one of the elders. But the servant’s expression was too sincere. His brow furrowed in disbelief as the servant delivered the unsettling news. "That’s simply impossible." he muttered, his voice carrying incredulity. "They would have had to plan this for years. How could three separate markets emerge as such overnight? Unless… Do they have any connection to one of the sects?"
“The guildmaster of the Elixir Alliance, one of the three stalls in question, is Nora Meadow. However, she is claiming that all of their elixir’s variants are unknown to any other institution, including the Legendary Sects. The Meadow Sect has additionally assured us that their libraries do not contain the variants in question. The Glyph Guardians and Ethological Ethomancers each house a few attributeless members from a number of the seven, including two from ours. However, as you know, they wouldn’t have been taught such information.”
Aurelius immediately became worried. His worry quickly turned into anger. His mind raced as he considered the gravity of the situation. “This is of utmost importance… Immediately call upon the young master. Tell him to send news of an emergency meeting among the sects in our first pavilion in one hour. I will go and get ready.” he commanded, his tone firm. "We must address this immediately!"
The servant replied “There is no need, as the Meadow Sect has already called for such a meeting. They have asked to convene in their sanctuary’s first yard as soon as possible. They requested the presence of the seven esteemed sectmasters, each with three attendants.”
……………………
Caladrius School East District: Court 1
As Cerulean and Triton stepped into the East District, they were greeted by the sight of thousands of disciples clad in white robes, bustling about in animated conversation. Each Saturday morning, the school’s arbiting elders and disciples would sit at their stalls, hosting sign ups for a number of clubs. Clubs in the Caladrius school were chosen weekly, so disciples would be able to pursue a wide number of interests, or hone in on one. The most popular stall, by far, was for midweek dueling tournaments. It wasn’t exactly a club, because it was hosted and moderated by the school, but it was organized similarly.
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The Caladrius Scholastic Duels took place half-way through the year, at the end of the Season of Great Warmth. They were one-vs-one, tournament-style, and allowed any disciple from either district to enter, and get a Caladrius Rank. The top one-hundred disciples of each school would then participate in the Interscholastic Duels. The Interscholastic Duels held a large number of different team and solo duels, and would determine the ranks of the schools, and participating artists. It was much more of a joke than a serious event though, as for hundreds of years there hadn’t been a single upset-ranking. There had been a few times when a Phoenix School Disciple placed within the top one-hundred, but it was quite rare. The midweek duels though, were more for recreation and practice, and were only for outer-court disciples.
As they made their way through the crowd, they approached the figure of one of the duel arbiters. He was sitting at one of the stalls with a stack of papers and a notebook in front of himself. With a respectful bow, Cerulean addressed him.
“I’d like to sign up for the midweek tournament.” he said.
“Name, Constitution, and Rank please.” The arbiter said in a monotonous tone.
“Cerulean, Attributeless, and One-Star Novice.” He replied.
At the beginning of each school year, every student’s ethereal information was judged and logged. The arbiter flashed a disappointed look at Cerulean before shuffling through his papers. Once he confirmed it, he started writing in his notebook while shaking his head.
He looked at Cerulean dismissively and said, “Good luck… Next!”
Triton had a similar experience, and after sharing a laugh they began to walk around. The air was alive with the chatter of excited disciples. Triton's eyes lit up as he spotted a display of delicacies at the stall of the cooking club. He started running towards it, but before he even arrived, he noticed something. He immediately turned toward Cerulean and began to run past him.
“I’ll meet at the place, but gotta run!” He said frantically, beginning to sprint.
Just then, a girl stood up from the cooking club’s stall.
“ASHBOOOOOOORN!!”
She darted out of the tent, and like a burst of infernal lightning began chasing after Triton. Cerulean smiled and shook his head. After wishing Triton well, he continued perusing the tents. After a while, he came to the Alchemy Club’s stall, in which he met eyes with a familiar face - Elder Roshi. He was stroking his beard and smiling, almost as if he knew the exact situation and had tricked Cerulean with his test. He stood for a moment, silently laughing at the situation’s likeness to Triton’s from earlier. But he knew he wouldn’t be able to wiggle himself out of this one. He embarrassingly turned away.
“Junior Cerulean.”
Before he could move, Elder Roshi’s words made Cerulean freeze. He held his head down, and turned back toward the tent, but before Cerulean could ashamedly walk to the stall, Elder Roshi had already appeared in front of him.
“A Hastening Art?” He thought to himself.
“I hear that the Trade District is quite lively today…” Elder Roshi continued stroking his beard in a humorous manner.
“Ahhh, is that so… I just stepped out of my dorm for the morning. Furthermore I had no plans to visit today, as I have no shards to spare…” Cerulean timidly replied.
“Indeed, indeed… I also hear that the guild you were planning to visit yesterday is doing particularly well.”
“You heard all of that!? You weren’t even in the freaking lecture hall!” Cerulean at this point gave up on trying to hide everything. He began to speak,
“Wha-”
“Nothing at all.” Elder Roshi mildly shook his head, kindly anticipating Cerulean’s response.
“As you already have plans in motion, I see no need to interfere. However, I do ask that you continue to seek that which is good. Within you burns a bright flame… I hope that you use it to nourish others, not to consume its beholder. Too often a light such as yours fades, quenched by insatiable darkness… By beholder, I meant the person in possession of it, not me perceiving it.”
After saying this, Elder Roshi turned back to the stall and sat back in his seat. Many students began to flock to his stall, and his figure was drowned out by a sea of white.
For perhaps the first time since his reincarnation, Cerulean was truly dumbfounded by someone other than himself. Having lived for so long in one of his lives, Cerulean had done his fair share of metaphysical pondering, and had come to a number of conclusions. But still his heart churned.
“This man is a true gem… I’m amazed at the amount of magnanimity I’ve witnessed on this plane… It’s strange that the arts and trades feel less important than humanity at times here… I’m beginning to feel as though there’s so much more that I can do with my new life than just figure out what lies between our universe and the heavens. Perhaps love and kindness and such are indeed more important to an artist. I almost forgot all about my adoptive parents… I mean I could even find a wife here and settle down once I’m a higher rank… I’d probably only live a few hundred years if I did so though… I should get stronger and stay alive for a great long time… Should I take more wives then? How long would they live… Should I also be doing more than just giving ethereal pointers to those who have been kind to me right now? Am I devoid of some humanity?”
Cerulean’s thoughts spiraled into self-doubt. He experienced for a moment, the feeling of helplessness one arrives at when given a decision with too many possibilities. But then, he once again remembered the words of Elder Roshi.
“To nourish others… If I were facing some savage beast, with all that I loved - all that was good behind me… Is that what I would need to remember the only way to truly live is to be strong enough to protect that which is good? And how much light is being squashed out by evil on every plane? Here, the savage beasts have masked themselves as legendary entities, letting the good die out below. People like Elder Roshi… And the matter of my parents…”
Cerulean once again looked at the ring on his finger. He always understood it as the only symbol of his birthright. He perpetually felt the weight of familial absence, but in the ring he found solace. The flame burning within him was far brighter than even Elder Roshi understood. It was unyielding. It burned to discover the secrets of the Enigmatic Plane, and unravel its mysteries - It burned to plumb the very depths of the universe, and peer beyond its distant boundaries. Only then would he be able to understand his own being. The ring on his finger was more than a ring: it was his tether to the unknown.
“I’m going to stay the course… Perhaps it will be even steadier than before.”
As Cerulean regained his senses, he surveyed his surroundings with a newfound clarity, wondering how long he had stood in thought. He looked toward Elder Roshi, but could hardly see him through the sea of disciples. With a shake of his head, he resumed his stride, each step a deliberate motion forward. Meanwhile, Elder Roshi observed him, his hand gently caressing his beard. A mysterious gleam flickered in his eye… He smiled.
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