Land of Magic

1

“I knew you’d be here.”

Hadjar was sitting on the edge of a cliff, his feet dangling in the air. There were clouds below him, and birds and other, much stranger, winged creatures occasionally flew past. Behind him stood a black passage in the mountain that served as the entrance to Underworld City.

Two months had passed since his conversation with Rahaim. During that time, he’d become accustomed to his new abilities as a Heaven Soldier. He’d managed to grasp his new power, and the sharper senses that came with it. Even the odd change to his thinking was something he’d learned to deal with, for the most part.

Nowadays, while looking at an object, Hadjar’s thoughts would often stray and turn into some deeply philosophical musings. Even the simple flight of a bird could make him wonder about the depths of the Sword Spirit’s and the Wind Spirit’s path for hours.

He pondered Rahaim’s claim that, whatever he did in the future, he would never be able to return to the Wind Spirit’s path. There were two barriers in his way: the first one was the seal of the Sword Spirit, which, though very challenging, was still something he could overcome. The second was his inability to use the ‘true path of cultivation’, which meant harnessing the external energy of the World River.

“I see you’ve broken through,” Hadjar said, moving aside.

He took a pipe and some tobacco from the pocket of his new, silk blue coat, flicked a match, and a thin column of gray smoke rose up.

Einen sat down beside him. The islander had become a little broader in the shoulders, taller, and... he’d dried up. He seemed to be striving to look like his favorite weapon — the staff-spear. He, too, now had the aura of a Heaven Soldier. Just four months after their battle with Ragar, Einen, using the insights and inspiration that he’d received during their journey to the library, had been able to find his Way and break through to the level of a true cultivator.

It was a very impressive achievement, no doubt about it.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, my friend.”

“Don’t mention it.” Hadjar clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Besides, we’re going in the same direction. You were going to visit the Empire, weren’t you?”

Einen stared up at the empty, endless sky. After all the time they’d spent together, Hadjar could easily read his friend’s emotions, despite his stony expression and always-closed eyes. He realized that the islander was worried about something.

“Something’s bothering you,” Hadjar said.

Einen remained silent. He rarely spoke. Einen would sometimes burst into a massive tirade, which was usually followed by a week’s silence only diluted by a meager smattering of remarks.

“I’m concerned about our journey to Dahanatan.”

“Why is the brave Einen of the pirate islands afraid to go to the capital of the Darnassus Empire?”

The corners of the islander’s mouth twitched slightly — this indicated his extreme irritation and that he’d suppressed a smile.

“Your sarcasm, barbarian, will lead you to the house of your forefathers one day. I hope I won’t be nearby at that time, forced to follow you.”

“Are you serious?” Hadjar sighed sadly. “It really is as they say: only your true friends stand by you when times are dire.”

This time, Einen actually smiled.

“I’m not worried about Dahanatan or Darnassus. I’m worried about ‘The Holy Sky’ School.”

“Rahaim has already written letters of recommendation for us. With them, we’ll be able to participate in the examination for inner circle disciples.”

According to Paris and the Sage, there were a lot of different schools and sects in the Empire. All of them were divided into different ranks depending on their prestige and strength. There were so many of them that Hadjar hadn’t bothered to remember them all.

It was enough for him to know that ‘The Holy Sky’ School was considered to be one of the best Schools in Darnassus, and quite possibly the best overall. Of course, there was a constant struggle for the title of ‘best School’ among the ‘Holy Sky’ School, the ‘Meltwater’ School, the ‘Quick Dream’ School, the ‘Moonlight’ sect, the ‘Last Day’ sect, and about seven family clans.

These organizations were the Twelve Pillars that the power of Dahanatan and Darnassus was based on. The best cultivators from these organizations ruled the country.

However, there was a strict division within schools and sects. Anyone, even a commoner, could take part in an entrance exam, but they only had the right to fight to become an ordinary disciple. In reality, after passing the tests and receiving a school or sect badge, they would become a servant. In exchange for the opportunity to attain the smallest particle of knowledge and resources, they did menial work and helped the more successful disciples, who were the true focus of the schools and sects, with their assignments.

The next level of apprenticeship meant being a fully-fledged disciple. This position could be claimed by those who were nobility or had a recommendation from a fully-fledged disciple who already had a badge. For every ten ordinary disciples, there was usually only one fully-fledged member.

There were two more levels above that. A person could become an inner circle disciple only with the recommendation of people with considerable authority in the Empire, or if the School’s Master decreed it. Getting the latter recommendation was considered almost impossible, as it was very close to attaining the most prestigious rank — becoming a personal disciple.

Such disciples were given the rarest knowledge and resources, as well as mentoring from the best Masters of a School or sect. Despite the fact that most of the Masters had retired, they’d been very famous and prominent figures in the past. Their authority was on par with the high nobles of the Empire.

“Are you really that naive, my friend?”

Hadjar sighed, scratched his nose, then turned the pipe over in his hand and shook out the ash. It was immediately picked up by a cheerful wind and carried away somewhere to the west, where the vast lands of the Empire lay.

Surprisingly, while Dahanatan and Darnassus had once seemed like something unattainable and even incomprehensible to Hadjar, now he couldn’t even remember the names of all the people he’d met along the way. It was especially sad to realize that, even after travelling so far and for so long, he’d still stayed at the very beginning of his path.

“I know, Einen, that even with all our tricks, we won’t be able to look like sixteen-year-old teenagers.”

Einen nodded.

“Besides, my friend,” he added, “your bones are barely more than twelve years old. And mine are about nine.”