The Exalt [Cultivation Fantasy]

Several braziers burned brightly, the faint crackles from the coals releasing a flurry of embers into the air like pollen from a blooming flower. Outside, a fierce, snowy gale howled, pounding the windows and covering them in thick layers of frost, which spread to the curtains, freezing them into beautiful frozen sculptures. Here in the mountainous north, the winter persisted for ten months of the year, something very few outside of natives could handle on a daily basis. Sitting at the head of the table, Celestina oversaw her war council.

"Sister, the situation is not good. People are starting to lose their morale. We need to put a stop to this cursed winter." Her brother, Charles, said tiredly, looking wearier than the last time she saw him. She smiled softly to him, knowing how troubled he had been as of late, and he smiled back, though she could tell it was forced. His golden eyes fluttered, struggling to keep awake, and his silver hair lacked the glow and sheen, now dull and ragged.

"It's bad enough to be in the north for a prolonged period, but the winters have never been this harsh. The higher Exalts will be fine. However, we'll lose half of our army by month's end." Robert Raeven grimaced, his rough tone not helping to alleviate the mood. While he helped tremendously with his battle prowess, she wished he knew how to speak to boost morale, not crush them.

Sighing heavily, Celestina wiped her face with a wet towel set aside by the servants. She leaned forward, drawing everyone's attention to the map on the table, several pieces laid out to represent her forces and the enemy's. She swept her gaze over the depicted mountains, her base in Frostveil City surrounded by a clump of her pieces, and then to the vast number of enemy pieces dotting the map all over one half of the map, her city lying on the border.

"If we relinquish Frostveil City, it'll be the same as giving up a third of the north. If we stay, most of our forces will be too weak to deal against a full assault." Celestina felt a headache settle rudely in her mind. "Have we evacuated the citizens?"

"Suen and Elizabeth have reported a complete evacuation of everyone from the surrounding towns and villages. All that remains is Frostveil City, but the people insist on staying here with you." Robert chortled, his bellowing laughter shaking his ragged hair and scruffy beard. "If only their loyalty and spirit could be used to defeat the enemy."

"Don't mock them. They are fine people." Celestina glared at Robert, her emerald eyes glinting dangerously by the braziers' light.

"I don't mean to mock them, Your Majesty. You must admit their presence is also a drawback." Robert always remained the bearer of bad news. "They'll all be dead after two weeks. And our soldiers do not need to see that."

Celestina bit her nail, distressed by the predictions, which Robert was always spot on with. She stopped and stared at her worn-down, uneven, and bitten nails, a sight unbecoming of her status and lineage. Gripping her hands into fists, Celestina slammed them onto the map, the pieces clattering out of place and some falling off the table. The other two stiffened in their chairs, but she paid them no heed, focusing solely on the larger map depicting the entirety of her beloved empire.

"This wretched war…when it will ever end?" Celestina caught sight of an unkempt strand of silver hair and tucked it back into place. How much more would her people have to suffer? She asked herself this question many times, an agony of doubt with the only certainty being the innumerable losses her home suffered. "Charles, is there no word from the Pavilion or the capital?"

"Most of the reports have been the usual, most of the frontlines at a standstill for now. However–" Charles raised his voice at a document, and Celestina snapped her head up to face him, greeted by a bright smile, unlike the usual forced, exhausted ones he could barely muster. Her heart beat in anticipation, and she waited with bated breath for his report. Charles cleared his throat as if teasing her and quickly spoke after she raised her Ein intimidatingly, chuckling weakly, "Our isolated army in Drakken Port broke through the enemy blockade and returned safely. They destroyed several enemy fleets, commandeered four Vorpalares, and even damaged an Excrusier."

"Is that true?!" Celestina rose from her seat, shocked to the core. Much to her regret, the people in Drakken Port had been left for dead, and all requests to rescue them were rejected. She wanted to save them but could not argue against the odds. To hear of their escape and renewal was the best news she had heard in a long while, and she smiled brightly, laughing from the joy swelling her heart. "How did they accomplish it? It's great to hear that."

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"I don't know. It's strange. The reports lack critical details." Charles answered while rummaging through the papers, scrunching his brow.

"What does it matter? They've all done a great service to us all. It gladdens me to know they never stopped fighting and carved a path for themselves." Robert raised a cup and downed it instantly. "For all that happened, it's pleasing to hear some good news for once."

"Wait. There's more." Charles said, raising a scroll. He seemed more lively and driven than ever before. "The Rurin Gaols have been destroyed, and most of our imprisoned Exalts have been freed, including several Marshal Exalts like the Warden, Draven, himself."

"What?" Celestina gawked, widening her eyes to the utmost extent, and brought her trembling hand up, pointing at the scroll in Charles's hand. Like the good brother he was, Charles handed her the scroll, and she read each word carefully, her breathing growing more erratic as time passed. The report ended with the authentic stamp from the Pavilion Master himself, a validity of its truthfulness. She had many questions swirling in her mind and asked, "Two good and thankful events occurred in around a month. Is this a sign of the tides changing? Did something change?"

"It'd be great if that something could come here and help us from this cursed winter," Robert grunted. "The return of the Marshal Exalts from Drakken Port and Rurin Gaols will help. But is the Warden even reliable? He hasn't been the same since…the lad died."

"Lord Raeven!" Charles shouted.

Celestina slammed the table; this time, it broke in half under her fist. Against her wishes, two droplets of tears fell from her eyes, trailing along her cheeks. It had been a long time since Oscar died, a very long time. He was her dear friend and someone she cherished, but he was dead, his body never to be recovered, forever stuck in Ashen Grove. A rush of nausea surged from her stomach, and she sat back down with a pale face.

"Forgive me, Your Majesty. I misspoke." Robert bowed.

"...It's alright. Oscar performed his duties and went beyond what was required of him." Celestina patted her face with another wet towel. "I can only hope we don't waste his sacrifice." Quelling the grief infecting her, she resumed her commander's role and changed topics away from Oscar. "Have any of the prisoners exhibited signs of brainwashing?"

"Everything is written in that report in your hands. There's too little information on it." Charles frowned as the attendants came in and replaced the table, carefully placing the map and pieces where they belonged.

"Those bastards…." Celestina clenched her hands, crushing the report in her palm. The first time she learned about the brainwashing in the Rurin Gaols a month ago, she could barely stop herself from rushing out to slaughter the enemy for vengeance. Even now, it took everything in her to stop herself from breaking ranks and lashing out.

"Your Majesty!" An attendant rushed in and bowed. "A small delegation has arrived, requesting an audience."

"Where are they from? If it's that self-absorbed prick Leon, reject him." Celestina frowned, not eager to deal with another outlandish request. "If he keeps trying to propose to me, I'll castrate him."

"No, Your Majesty. They're not from the Richter Family." The attendant quivered yet maintained his bow as he showed a token bearing the golden mark of a trident. They've come from the Pavilion Master. This is his seal."

"From the Pavilion Master? What is so important that he needs to send people? Let them in." Celestina sighed, prepared for the worst of news. Nothing else should warrant a response from the direct leader unless it were severe and urgent.

A minute later, the attendant returned as a strange group of people entered after him, cloaked in winter garb, their features unseen except for the eyes shining under their fur hats. Celestina recognized two of them and exclaimed, "Emily? Frederick? Why are you two here? Did you two patch things up?"

"Greetings to the princess, and also, not really." Frederick took his headgear.

Emily scoffed and rested her long orange hair down. "As if. He still has a lot to do before I can forgive him. But we're not here to ramble on. There's someone you should meet." Much to Celestina's confusion, Emily and Frederick stepped aside, and a tall man stepped forward and took off his headgear.

"Oscar?" She couldn't believe her eyes and said his name without thought. The figure was far taller, but the deep obsidian eyes and black hair bore a striking resemblance to him. Perhaps the man was a close relative or someone who simply resembled Oscar. After all, this stranger had a Grade Six core from what she felt, and moreover, Oscar was dead.

But the man chuckled, and she tossed away her previous notions as he said, "It's been a long time, Celestina. You look tired." His words, the gentle yet firm voice, and how he called out to her were all the proof she needed.

Tears trickled down, and a faint sob escaped her lips. Questions upon questions raced through her mind about how Oscar survived, escaped, and ended up here, but she wiped her tears and ignored them. She found only one appropriate response, well-suited for this blessed reunion with her dear friend.

Curling her lips into a smile, Celestina said, "Welcome back."

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