The Exalt [Cultivation Fantasy]

Resting on Demon's shoulder, Oscar eyed Volten, the first Reis user and the only other Perfect Reis body. He inhaled sharply and turned slightly to look behind. If he ran, the chains might drag him back, so he followed. Beyond the gate was a smooth path, clearly paved with intent and design, and the walls arched toward the ceiling where light crystals hung down. As Volten passed each one, they lit up as if responding to his presence, illuminating just enough for them to reach the next light crystal. Staring at the back of the legend who was at the forefront of the ancient war, the master of Reis, Oscar cared little, no questions filling his thoughts.

He only desired to escape.

Ignyres, however, seemed interested, hovering by Volten like an annoying firefly. "Volten, how are you here now? I can't believe you're still here after all this time. Next thing I knew, I was kicked out of your body, and you disappeared into the stars."

"You've forgotten many things, old friend. Fallen Heaven was the epicenter of the war back then. The final battle blasted this place and my corpse into the stars. The chaotic, pure Ein tethered my soul to this place. My spirit and the lands were doomed to wander near Talos but never to return." Volten slowed as the last light crystal brightened up, revealing another door under its radiance. His finger glowed as it traced a pattern into the door. Moments later, the pattern vanished into the door, a muffled bang resounding from within as the frame shook slightly. Volten easily opened it, gesturing for Oscar and the others to enter.

It was odd. Somehow, Oscar felt the place resembled an arena. Demon's steps rang clear on the ancient platform, clearly made from metal. Braziers of roaring white flames encircled the room as water streamed from the walls and trickled into the outer moat. It was deep enough for Oscar to dive in and still not reach the bottom. No windows or gaps dotted the rooms except for a huge opening in the ceiling. Above, he spotted an incredulous sight and couldn't believe his eyes. Two suns, not the damned ten orbs of Fallen Heaven, shone brightly in a dazzling azure sky, a few clouds floating by.

"Like it? I replicated it long ago. Talos at day and night. They are the two sights I miss most." Volten called out softly, smiling in clear pride at his work, but his lowered eyes betrayed a hint of sadness and longing as they remained fixed on the fake sky. "I first counted the days but couldn't bear to count the years once they ran too long. Sometimes, you don't realize how important such a mundane scene can be until it is gone. Ah, forgive this old man. You shouldn't listen to my ramblings when your matters are more pressing."

"No…it's nice to hear someone like you say an ordinary sentence for once." Oscar smiled as Demon set him down to sit by a pillar. Carcoatl, Ollanar, the Primal Council, the Ancients, the wanderer, Sirsi–they all pressed him for a grander destiny, talking about Gol-4, Threads, Fate, Reis, or the will of the Ancients. To listen to Volten admire the two suns and moon was a welcome break from the mantras they forcibly drowned him in. Oscar tilted his head back and stared out into the ceiling of false day, a welcome sight indeed. Not even a week yet, and he missed the bright morning of Talos dearly.

"You've changed quite a lot, Volten. I never knew you to be a sentimental man." Ignyres nestled on Oscar's shoulder, the heat and sharp crackling of the fire assailing his ear. "Believe me, Oscar. This man didn't care at all for the wives we granted him."

"Did I?" Volten laughed and sat in the middle of the arena. "If anyone's changed, it's you, old friend."

"Well, countless years of near-death and buried deep in the earth will have drastic effects on anyone. Isn't that right?" Ignyres cackled, scattering embers on Oscar's clothes. Annoyed, he flicked Ignyres off his shoulder and returned to stare at the sky, listening but not really.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

"It suits you better. Perhaps the war may have been different if all the Ancients were like you now." Volten sighed and lost the liveliness in his tone, an old voice now of a man at his limits and one Oscar had heard several times in the old soldiers of the war, all nearly given up yet accepting their fate. "I never changed. I have always been me, but I never had the chance or the choice to decide for myself. I was born a tool, a weapon for you and the others to wield. This–" He palmed over his heart "-is the man who could be, the one who should have walked on Talos but was denied the freedom even to choose a name."

"I…I'm sorry, Volten." Ignyres's flame waned. "If the old me were me now, I would have fought against the others for your sake."

"Really? The wives you gifted me…all for passing on my blood, not of love or my choice. I allowed myself to become the weapon you desired, the sword Talos needed, because it was the right. Protect and safeguard Talos. No matter how much my heart was torn apart, I agreed with the mission." Volten held out his arm, the sleeve sliding down to expose countless scars. "Even as my flesh split and bones pounded into dust, I fought on for your sakes, for all their sakes. And what did we get? My descendants are a group of wayward fanatics. The world is in slow decay. And this young warrior is now suffering the same fate as me."

Oscar pulled away from the ceiling and peered directly at Volten, the white eyes reflecting his dark figure clearly in the shining pupils. The same fate? What did he mean by that? While he couldn't explain it, Oscar saw deep pain rooted in those white pupils, embedded deep and reaching the heart, a familiar pain. He steadied himself, but his lips trembled before he asked, "How many?"

"Everyone," Volten grimaced. I understand the pain you are going through. The weight of the world is crashing on your shoulders as everyone expects one or the other out of you, even after you keep losing everyone you hold dear one by one. Luckily, you haven't lost everyone yet."

"Are you going to tell me to fight? Do you want me to replace you? Or to create a new you with that woman? What do you want from me?" Oscar struggled to calm his breathing and struggled, clutching his chest as his heart raced tremendously, hammering against his ribs. Oscar's fingers trembled as he gasped and choked. 'Medicine!' He rummaged through his dimensional cube and remembered Fallen Heaven had stripped all extra items away. He banged his head on the pillar, striking it with a loud clanking sound of metals colliding, unable to move or breathe. Suddenly, a glob of water forced its way through his lips and forcibly tunneled down his throat, cool relief calming his bursting heart and settling his lungs.

"The waters here are special. They passed through the deep earth and brushed against ancient roots. You came to the right place." Volten made his way close, patted his shoulder, and said, "I am here to help you, not to use you. I am not a smith who will forge you into a weapon. I'm just a man who wants to help. Let me help you."

"Help me?" Oscar scoffed and laughed scornfully. His words sounded sweet, but he had enough of old masters providing help.

"Help you. Yes. Help you." Volten laughed with him, their disconnected laughter of differing emotions creating a discord in the air. "I promise on my blood, my given name, and my waning spirit that I want nothing from you. Your life is your own, young warrior. Unlike me, you will have freedom. If not, I can help you gift freedom to others. I will help you walk, but the path your feet will cross will be of your choosing, not from the Ancients, not from me, not from anyone else, but only you, just you. Let me help you."

"Why should I trust you? Tell me, why?!" Oscar shouted.

"Because I have much to answer for. I have made many mistakes in my life. Death calls and the lives of those I've failed whisper to me. They say to join them. But I can't yet, not when someone needs my help." Volten raised his voice and lifted Oscar to his feet. Oscar didn't resist as Volten helped him to the center of the arena. Demon was already gripping his sword nearby and ready to slash down. "Sit."

In the carving of the innermost circle in the arena, Oscar sat before Volten, the two staring at each other, their black-and-white gazes meeting. Oscar asked, "Now what?"

"Close your eyes. Overcome."

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