Crow remained silent for a good minute.
“What is through the puckered door?”
The old man smiled. “The upper realms, provided you pass the trial within.”
“The trial…” Crow muttered. It felt like a loaded statement. “As tempting as that is, I refuse.”
“Why?” The old man already expected the answer but wanted to hear the reasoning.
“I’m not afraid of hard work and effort—earning my right to ascend. I’m smart enough to know regret. Giving up the Shield of False Dawn—which I assume is the veiled warning—is something I’d regret. Leaving behind my family and loved ones is another regret. I don’t mind shortcuts, but I’m positive this choice isn’t that.”
“You value your friends that much? What if they are holding you back, and you could seize power before them? Enough power to protect all of them before they arrive? You could pave the path for them years before they could arrive.”
“What is the point of a journey where you spend half your life without them? Without friends and loved ones by your side, what meaning is there to the struggle? It is not wrong to want power or to be strong because we all need or want someone to protect. People that you get out of bed for every morning. The struggle is real, but if I’m gaining power on the backs of loved ones, it is all for nothing. That is the very definition of a wasted life. A life I don’t intend to live. I look back now, see the things I’ve done and accomplished, and remember those who laughed, cried, and bled with me. Memories are the hard-won currency of a life well fucking lived.” Crow’s voice was resolute and decisive. There was no room for rebuttal.
“Memories are the hard-won currency…” the old man muttered and became reflective. “Nice! That’s well said. If you aren’t taking the shortcut, you can head in that direction.”
Crow wasn’t sure why he called the tower guardian an old man because he didn’t look like one. However, there was an ancientness to him. A timeless feeling of a person who’s seen countless ages. His finger pointed in a particular direction, and Crow turned to go but stopped and came back.
“May I ask you some questions?”
“You have a few minutes.”
“Is all this real? I mean, is that child an illusion?”
“You worry about the child?”
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“I do. And as much as I want to walk the other way, I’m uneasy.”
“In return, let me ask you a question. Do you even know what reality is?”
“That…” Crow paused and had no answer. Instead, he felt shocked to his core. He’d already entered worlds that weren’t real—a construct of consciousness. Life and death were the same inside and out, so his existence determined his reality.
“Don’t get hung up on it, kid.”
“I understand.”
“You do?” the old man questioned while laughing.
“I’ve already questioned my existence and achieved some minor insights. It only took your question for me to realize it. Reality is my existence. I’m here. I’m aware that I’m here, which makes this my reality. By extension, that baby exists. If I walk away, what happens to the child?”
“It dies. Enter the upper realms requires a body to transform into something more. You used the word existence, so let’s go with that. To reach the upper realms, you need to solidify your existence, or the energy there will wipe out your existence. That baby is used to transform those deemed worthy—a rebirth. They must cut the umbilical cord, absorb the energies that would have gone to the child, and then ascend.”
“Can I… save the child?”
“The answer and solution you seek are still in that direction,” the old man said. “The trial’s secrets can’t be divulged as Heaven’s array is strict on free will and allowing you to make your own choice. Ironic, right? It had no problem enslaving guardians—not the time for that. Entering this puckered door only has one outcome, and if you want to… break the cycle, hurry.”
Crow didn’t say anything more and ran off in the direction the old man’s finger pointed toward. No matter what, this was the most bizarre event of his brief life. The fleshy tunnel curled around for another five minutes, but he didn’t stop sprinting toward the end. If there was any consolation, it was that the path lacked variation. One tunnel, one direction, and one way forward. It didn’t get simpler than that.
Finally, he entered what he assumed was the ovary, but his brief study of anatomy conflicted with the current situation. Things were happening in this place he didn’t understand, but he found a large chamber filled with eggs. Not human, but the leathery eggs of a serpent. Each was attached to a mound of flesh, which was vaguely disturbing. Crow barely noticed because a particular egg drew all his attention. At first, he wasn’t sure why, but the moment he touched it, two things registered. It also was a wielder of Night Fire and had dragon blood. Mostly it was the dragon blood that called out to him. Because he married Nin, he also had dragon blood in him. Even if Crow didn’t do Body cultivation, the blood inside him would gradually transform him. As a side effect, he was sensitive to dragon essence.
Rubbing his hand across the egg, he felt connected to it as if they’d already bonded. It wasn’t like it was with Nin because this serpent recognized him as a… brother? Father? King? It was a complex feeling that didn’t translate directly into human words. The gist was that the being inside the egg subordinated itself to Crow and formed a bond of loyalty. Within dragon society, they also did this if they recognized a dragon with purer blood. Nin’s bloodline would be pure since she was the daughter of a dragon god, but the acceptance of a king wasn’t just about the heritage. Trust was also necessary.
Plucking the egg from its flesh-like nest, he hugged it to his chest with one hand. Before he could speculate further, a roar shook the entire chamber. The fleshy walls vibrated and pulsed as if the world had triggered a massive earthquake.