Elder Rujik, a military strategist and seasoned warrior, stood at the center of the council chambers. His mastery of fire was known throughout the sanctuary, and his words carried the weight of someone who had survived countless battles. His eyes reflected the fire of his element, burning with the fierce will that fueled his magic.
"The threat analysis posed by having an unknown entity enter the sanctuary is a security hazard the likes that led to the collapse of the Shamba society", Elder Thalos spoke in a calm but authoritative tone. It was clear that he had changed his stance on what he had previously termed as "the greatest asset against the dragon's army".
The council members murmured in agreement. If even Elder Thalos, who had previously advocated for the child as a "greatest asset against the dragon's army," now shifted in his seat. His eyes darted between Rujik and the other council members, silently conceding to the grim reality of the situation.
No one in the council seemed to protest the changing tide. Their focus was on the child, as if waiting for him to reveal some miraculous sign, some confirmation of the hidden danger he represented. Elder Orimudi, sitting in his usual spot along the crescent-shaped council table, fidgeted with frustration. Finally, he could contain himself no longer.
"I will take the child as my ward," Orimudi declared, his voice stiff but resolute. "I'll monitor his growth and ensure he is no threat."
Naria, standing with her infant son, Niu, felt her heart skip a beat.
'Elder Orimudi?'
Of all the council members, Orimudi was perhaps the most aloof, the least involved in anything outside his own research. She knew him as a self-absorbed academic, indifferent to even the most crucial matters.
'He hadn't even attended my coronation as the carrier of light,' Naria wondered.
She was a rare magical talent, having resonanced and merged with a powerful spirit beast from the age of the winged deity.
Despite her reservations, Naria smiled. "Thank you, Elder Orimudi. It would be an honor to have your guidance." she actually said.
Naria was a part of the elite scouting unit, capable of leaving the sanctuary on missions of reconnaissance. Shamba, the world outside, had changed drastically after the fall of the winged deity. Her missions often took her into dangerous territories, but returning with a child had been unexpected, even for her.
While many scouts had borne children in Shamba, few ever chose to, knowing they'd watch them age and die while the sanctuary's magic extended their own lives for millennia.
"Not so fast," Rujik interrupted, raising his hand. His fingers glowed, and a compartment in the meeting hall's wall opened. From it emerged twelve crystal slates, thick as books, each one floating to the council members.
Elder Orimudi frowned,' Rujik is being overly cautious—dividing the child's memories into twelve slates, one for each elder, is overkill.'
Still, Orimudi took the cold, heavy slate that floated before him.
Naria gently placed a golden bracelet on Niu's wrist. The bracelet shimmered, and thin threads of light connected it to the floating crystal slates. Naria, silently soothing her child, watched as the threads carried colorful images from Niu's mind, projecting them into the slates.
Each slate displayed a different fragment of his memories, each one showcasing a scene from Niu's previous life. First-person views, sounds, and impressions filled the room, as if the entire world Niu had once lived in was unfolding before them.
And then, just as suddenly as it began, the threads went blank. The memories were divided, incomplete and scattered among the elders. The crystal slates now held flashing images and fragmented sounds, but none of them made sense alone. The elders knew their task—each was to safeguard a piece of the child's past until he could be deemed worthy to live in the sanctuary without posing a threat.
Naria exhaled, a wave of relief washing over her. The burden of Niu's odd nature had been addressed, and her promise to keep him safe had been honored, at least for now.
"Elder Orimudi, your oath to safeguard the child has been approved by the council," Elder Thalos announced.
Orimudi barely nodded in acknowledgment. He was already lost in thought, analyzing the presence of the child before him.
' They don't see it,' Orimudi thought. 'They can't feel what I'm sensing.'
"Thank you, Elder Orimudi," Naria said, her voice filled with gratitude.
Orimudi waved her off. "I'm doing this for the child, not for you," he muttered, but his tone carried a hint of sincerity that didn't go unnoticed by the council. Even the usually hard-faced Rujik allowed himself a faint smile at the softening of Orimudi's words.
"I do not blame the old man", Elder Seraphine said. "it has been ages since I saw such an adorable little face". Elder Seraphine crossed the crescent shaped high-table and approached Naria hoping to hold the child. Elder Orimudi had not noticed that he had been staring at the sleeping child.
Elder Seraphine, with her usual mischievous grin, stepped forward. "If you plan on 'safeguarding' the boy, you should at least learn to hold him," she teased. Without waiting for permission, she scooped up the sleeping Niu with practiced ease. Her tenderness was evident from how the child barely stirred in his sleep.
The Elder Seraphine was clearly mocking Elder Orimudi, his face was pale and a cold sweat was spotted rolling down his forehead. The two women laughed at his expense. The scene of a seasoned warrior and educator freezing before a baby was comical to them.
His mind raced. ' It must be because I practice the dragon's soul titration technique. Only those familiar with the process can gauge soul pressure. This child... his soul pressure far exceeds even the dragon's generals.'
Orimudi, suddenly overwhelmed by the sensation of standing near the child, felt his heart race. Every step toward Niu, Orimudi could feel the dense aura of death that loomed over the child. It was like walking into a cave filled with the bones of those arrogant and reckless enough to challenge a mighty beast in its lair.
'The dragon's soul titration technique is a forbidden art,' Orimudi thought, sweat beading on his forehead. ' I can't reveal what I know without implicating myself.'
Orimudi quickly regained his composure. "Six months," he said. "I'll return to start his training once he's weaned." Without another word, he turned and left the council chamber, his strides quick and determined.
The two women burst into laughter finally accepting that the elder had not idea how babies operated.
'I need six months to create a device capable of withstanding that child's soul pressure,' Orimudi thought, his mind already racing with ideas. 'I have to increase my soul titration proficiency if I hope to be of service to the dragon's reincarnation', Elder Orimudi thought.
'The young master will soon need a means of masking his soul presence if he wishes to hide his existence long enough to take down this sanctuary. Losing his memories will not be the end. '
The cleric class possesses various artifacts designed to detect practitioners of the dragon's soul titration technique. However, they lack a precise method for measuring the exact number of souls an individual has killed. The artifacts and techniques taught in clerical academies are primarily focused on identifying the level of mastery over the soul titration technique, not quantifying the soul count.
On the other hand, those who use the soul refinement technique can easily gauge each other's soul count simply by observing the aura surrounding the individual. The child, however, was not a practitioner of the soul titration technique. He was something far more dangerous—an extinction-level being. His presence was invisible to the cleric artifacts but radiated like the sun to those skilled in soul titration, making his immense power apparent to them.
The soul titration technique allows a cultivator to absorb the experiences and skills of creatures or beings they have killed, enhancing their own abilities and affinity. To gain these skills, the cultivator must summon the soul of the slain being and refine it through intense concentration and meditation.
During this process, the cultivator relives the entire life of the creature, seeing and experiencing the world through its perspective. Upon completion, the level of inspiration received from the refined soul adds to the cultivators talents and skills.
Elder Orimudi had killed countless creatures and people in his lifetime, though he had long since stopped refining their souls. He had given up hope of ever returning to Shamba. By what seemed like sheer luck, he had accomplished his mission—what the world now called the sanctuary was actually the fairy realm.
The fairies, beings of the Void Realm, had created a realm superimposed over the land of Shamba. Existing in a space between the boundaries of reality and imagination, the fairies played a vital role in shaping Shamba's environment. The winged deity had relied on them to monitor and govern the natural world, using their abilities to ensure the right conditions for life to flourish.
What appeared to be luck or the natural progression of evolution was actually the subtle influence of the fairies, who stepped in and out of reality at will. They bent the balance of the universe to their desires, molding reality as they saw fit.
Orimudi had been hunting mythical creatures when he stumbled upon the spatial coordinates of an entrance into the fairy realm. His calculations were theoretical, but he had hoped to one day present his findings to the world as undeniable proof of his mathematical genius. Orimudi had discovered a formula to identify points of entry into higher-dimensional spaces using only a three-dimensional landscape.
However, fate had other plans. Once Orimudi found a dimensional pocket, he became trapped, unable to return. He had been part of the human coalition that resented the Shambas, and he harbored no sense of inferiority toward them. What fueled his hatred of the Shambas was their hypocrisy and double standards in the application of magic.
His desire for recognition and resentment toward the Shamba's elitism had driven him to uncover the fairy realm, but it also sealed his fate in a realm from which there was no return.