Those who were almost immortal. Those who could move seas and mountains with a wave of their hand. And it frightened and fascinated him at the same time, the fact that Hadjar didn’t know whether this was an exaggeration or not.
And a week ago, he’d been taken outside. Well, ‘outside’ was just the balcony. From atop it, he’d been able to see the almost boundless city and valley, stretching out beyond the titanic walls.
The wind blew, tousling his wavy black hair.
The wind called to him.
“Which do you want more? A brother or a sister?” His father asked again.
Hadjar pondered the choice again. Each of the options had its advantages.
Haver laughed and ruffled his son’s hair, as was his habit.
“South Wind says that you can already pass the exam to be an official, but you can’t answer my question for some reason.”
“It’s too complicated, Dad,” Hadjar said. “If I have a brother, I can play with him. And if I have a sister, I can protect her. Plus, a sister will clearly be more beautiful than a brother.”
“Well, who can say,” the King smiled. “Going by what Nanny’s told me, the ladies of the court cuddle you every day. The healers say that, in future, you will break a lot of girls’ hearts.”
Hadjar barely kept a smug smile off his face. By local standards, he was a very handsome young man. However, what else could you expect from such good genetics and such amazing parents?
“I hate girls. And why have you given me a wife? It would’ve been better if she’d been a boat.”
The King laughed and ruffled his hair again.
“When you grow up, I’ll definitely teach you some secrets.”
“South Wind’s already teaching me!”
“Oh, believe me, the old man won’t teach you about this. I'm afraid that this area is one of those where he only has theoretical knowledge.”
The warriors laughed quietly, and the King winked at his son. Hadjar made a confused face, which elicited a new bout of laughter. Fortunately, he was a great actor. He had to play the role of a two-year-old child. Ingenious, but still a child.
After all, it's the squeaky wheel that gets the grease.
Finally, the doors opened and Nanny came out.
“It’s a daughter,” she smiled.
Haver picked up his son and rushed off to his chambers. This time, they burst in there without Primus. His uncle had gone to the southern borders on a military campaign. Nomadic tribes had plundered the villages and towns there.
Hadjar hugged his mother quickly and sat down beside a small, pink, crying lump. His... sister had already been wrapped up in golden blankets. She looked quite ordinary, but something in the Prince’s chest tightened.
Sitting on the bed, next to his mother and father, looking at his newborn sister, he suddenly realized what he’d been deprived of back on Earth. It hadn’t been the ability to walk and talk. No. Something much more vital had been taken from him.
Since childhood, he’d been deprived of this very feeling.
The warmth of a family.
“And we’d been expecting a son,” the tired Elizabeth smiled.
Two years had passed and she hadn’t changed at all. Not a single wrinkle had appeared on her beautiful face. Not a single gray in her thick, black hair.
“What should we name our daughter?” The King rocked the little bundle tenderly.
“Elaine,” Hadjar said. “Let's name her Elaine.”
The parents looked at each other and nodded.
And so, Hadjar now had his forever crying, but already beloved, little sister Elaine. And she changed something deep within him. Without noticing it, he suddenly realized that his performance, his ‘I can protect her’ act, had stopped being a performance.
***
Just a month after Elaine was born, Hadjar was able to obtain permission to visit the training grounds. It would’ve been difficult to get in there, the most sacred part of the Palace complex, even if he’d been the son of not Haver IV, but the son of James Bond himself.
The grounds were guarded even better than the chambers of some of the high officials. The Master taught the future elite of the country there, and he couldn’t allow his knowledge to be stolen by someone.
He’d had to work hard to earn the trust of South Wind and to make him work on his cultivation. The cultivation of his martial arts, of course. The Scholar, in principle, didn’t like this field of study very much. Hadjar learned from his Nanny that once upon a time, the old man could’ve been admitted to ‘The Black Gates’, but his meridians had been damaged during the exam . The meridians were the channels in the body through which Force flowed.
So, while he was healthy outwardly, he remained a cripple for life, internally.
As for meridians, Hadjar managed to find out some details about the stages of their cultivation.
The first stage was called ‘Bodily Nodes’. There were nine steps in this stage. Special passages, invisible to the eye, were opened in the body of the practitioner at this stage. They used some kind of acupuncture. The warrior could then absorb energy through them; the local air was full of it.
After accumulating the energy in their centers, they directed it through the veins, opening the meridians, which were normally sealed from birth. This stage was called ‘The Level of Bodily Rivers’.
When all the points were opened, and all the meridians were saturated, the practitioner came across the first so-called ‘threshold’. It was a state where the nearest level was so very close, but it was incredibly difficult to reach it.
Many people couldn’t handle it at all.
They simply couldn’t condense the energy and reach the Formation Stage. The first level was when The Seed, woven from force, would form inside the soul of a person (and not only there, but we’ll talk about that later.)
Then it was necessary to split The Seed into several parts. This was the Fragment Level.
And in the end, it was necessary to gather the fragments back together and create The Core. This was the third level of the Formation Stage.
The Transformation Stage followed next. This was when a person’s soul adapted, but not their strength or body. The mortal shell, the Awakened spirit, and the New soul.
Hadjar knew nothing about them, because South Wind had no information on the subject. According to him, only the King himself could teach his son how to progress past these stages.
And as for the transition from a mortal to a cultivator, there wasn’t a single person in the entire Kingdom that knew how to make the transition between the Transformation and the Heaven Soldier stages.
Those who knew how to do so lived only in sects or in larger states.
“Аnyway,” Hadjar spoke to himself aloud, “I’ve already taken the first step.”
He stood on the edge of the grounds where the soldiers trained. He’d made a cunning plan a long time ago. He only had to implement it. And that’s how his cultivation would begin.The site resembled a sandy parade ground. It was a huge, sandy parade ground. Thousands of soldiers trained here, sparring. They were tirelessly beating each other up under the scorching sun, wearing only short pants (sometimes with a bandaged chest, in the case of the women) under the guidance of the Master walking around.Someone moved his arms like a whirlwind, parodying the famous Chinese fantasy movies. Crazy jumps, contrary to the laws of physics, were the norm here. Someone stopped falling as easily as a feather on the wind, by pushing off the earth using just a single palm. Others were easily shattering wooden shields.Others fought with a variety of weapons. Their diversity was impressive. Hadjar didn’t know the names of most of these weapons, and he was glad that the familiar staves, wands, swords,
The task was further complicated by the scorching sun, as well as the large size of the barrels; he needed to pour a whole barrel of water.The warriors hid their smiles behind their fists.Well, they loved their King, who was strict, strong and fair. And yet, they were glad that the little Prince had been put in his place. They hoped that he, being a well-bred boy, would turn around and leave, offended, but without making a scene, as the spoiled children of petty nobles usually did. Neither Nanny nor the Queen would approve of that kind of behavior.“Well,” Hadjar nodded, clenching his fists.Nobody had expected this. They also hadn’t expected that the boy would lift a heavy barrel and drag it through the parade ground.The Master blinked a few times, rubbed his beard and screamed: “What are you staring at?! Keep working!”No one moved, because the Prince, Haver and Elizabeth's son, was walking among them. The very thought of touching him caused them to tremble, they were afraid of h
Hadjar, twisting his head, noticed that he was flying directly toward the sword rack. Damn it, he might not get his second chance now! He was going to become a bloody kebab, and not the adept hero he’d fantasized about!The Prince waved his hands as hard as he could, but this obviously didn’t halt his flight. The swords, reflecting the sun’s rays, were already close to his face, when suddenly, he felt a gust of wind.It got tangled in his clothes, then rested in his hair. What had it brought him this time? The story of some distant country; the shadow of many great battles; perhaps the tale of amazing heroes and villains alike?No, this time, it brought him peace.If, at that moment, someone had been looking not at the Master or the Queen, but at Hadjar, they would’ve seen a complete absence of fear on the boy’s face. He flew towards the swords as calmly as a sparrow would toward the branch of a birch tree on a clear summer’s day.When he landed right on the blades of all those swords
“Thirty-two... three-and-and--and-and-and thirty thre-eee,” Hadjar counted out, barely able to do so.“Excellent,” the Master nodded.He walked over to the flat cobblestones, which were the same as the two that were currently on the Prince’s back. The Master had personally carved them out of stone that the northern wind had batted against for two hundred years. Its energy permeated the rock and that would supposedly strengthen the Prince’s weak body.No matter how proud the Master was of his apprentice, he had to admit this simple fact. As strong as Hadjar’s spirit and skills with the sword were, his body was equally weak.As if a hero’s soul had been placed in a peasant’s body.The heavens had been surprisingly unfair to the Prince, but his tenacity could overcome even their will.“Then you could probably use a little help,” and then, saying that, the Master put another cobblestone on Hadjar’s back.The weight of the stones was over sixty pounds now, and sweat rolled down the Prince'
“Fortunately, the local forests aren’t able to give birth to strong creatures. We didn’t encounter a single monster that was higher than the initial steps of the Awakening of Power.”Well, it would seem humans weren’t the only ones in this world who could work on improving themselves. Animals could as well. South Wind had often told about such ‘animals’ that were actually stronger and smarter than most people. They, like the adepts, have their own paths for cultivation, with different stages, but that’s not important right now.“During one of the hunts, one of the senior officers fell from his horse and into a hole.”“Treasurer,” the king called. “Give this officer an estate and a thousand servants. No one else in my kingdom has ever fallen off a horse so successfully.”The treasurer—a man with a simple face, but a very sharp mind—nodded and wrote something down on a scroll.“Go on, brother.”“Descending into the cave after him, we discovered a vein of Solar ore.”Everyone there excha
“We would gain a lot more than we’d lose. If we did it right, we’d be able to get no less than ten, maybe even fifteen percent of the production. Do you have any idea how much money that is? We’d finally be able to build new, large cities, establish schools and invite high-ranking instructors to teach there. Cultivators would flock here, hoping to make a profit or be recruited into the Imperial Army.”Primus looked intently at a point on the map, indicating the place where the Solar ore had come close to the surface.“We’ll be able to acquire Techniques and knowledge that we couldn’t have even dreamt of before. You and me, and the others as well… we’ll get a chance to become Heaven Soldiers. A chance to grasp eternity—to be eligible for the title of cultivators, no longer mere mortals!”“What must we sacrifice in return? The destinies of tens of millions of people?”“The destinies of poor ragamuffins! Of miserable rodents, wallowing in the mud! What are their lives compared to ours? T
While the Scholar was grumbling something unintelligible under his breath, the young but already beautiful Elaine was watching her big brother. She noted his black hair, gathered into a tight bun, and his blue eyes; she had a handsome brother. And he was moving around amusingly, a sword in hand.She’d seen her father moving around, too; he was swift and as sharp as a Death-Tiger. Hadjar floated through the air, moving his sword as if he were guiding a toy boat along the surface of a spring stream.“Tell me, Hadjar, how do you distinguish a Heaven Soldier from a simple warrior?” the Master asked suddenly.These kinds of questions were usually asked by the Scholar, not the warrior. Hadjar thought about it for a while, trying to find the catch.“The Heaven Soldier is able to fly, to summon fire and water. They’ve grasped eternity and can live for many thousands of years.”“That's right,” the old man nodded and stopped demonstrating the Technique.The Prince stopped practicing as well.“N
“That's right, Your Highness,” the Master nodded. “What you’re holding in your hands are just the basics. And yet, you could still count the number of Techniques of the Mortal level in our Kingdom on the fingers of one hand.”“Does that mean that the second scroll would be at the Spiritual Level?”“Exactly, my Prince.”Hadjar looked at the scroll, then at his teachers, and then again toward the east.The wind blew. It told him stories. It called to him.The Prince was weak.He couldn’t answer the call of the wind.Nevertheless, at that moment, a smile of anticipation spread across his face. Every day, he could see the way forward more clearly. The path leading to his cherished goal and freedom.The path which would lead him to the vast expanses of this amazing world, to its secrets and dangers, to everything it had to offer, something that Hadjar had been deprived of in his previous life.And while this brief moment of enlightenment was happening, he didn’t know that the wheel of Fate