51st of Season of Air, 59th year of the 32nd cycle

  The rest of the climb was free of drama. Newt and Maelstrom kept drifting further and further ahead of the remaining contestants until, at the thirty-fourth cliff, a hundred yards beneath the top, Maelstrom called out to him.

  “Newt, look down.”

  He glanced back and found the ledge behind them gone.

  “All the remaining participants are on this wall.”

  By the feel of it, less than fifty remained.

  “What now?”

  “Now we hurry. More than half the people will fall off this wall, and I don’t want us to help anyone by dragging our feet.”

  So, the two of them sped up, then instead of waiting in ambush just rushed across the ledge, straight for the next set of nests.

  The darkness closed around Newt. He was hungry, fleas jumping in his hair, then the vision receded, Maelstrom had taken half the burden. More than once, he considered asking her what she was seeing and feeling when the pressure grew unbearable, but the question was way beyond the depth of their current relationship.

  They climbed in silence when the pressure lessened, and again, and again. Newt counted fifteen people remaining before the spiritual weight’s incremental decreases disappeared.

  He looked at the nest with the bonus yards, suddenly realizing that for Maelstrom it was not worth the effort. She would almost certainly prefer them to finish early, increasing the pressure on the stragglers, and letting them fall. For Newt, the bonus was massive. He had just collected an extra nine hundred and sixty yards, with a thousand hanging a dozen yards up, just waiting for him to claim them.

  Newt collected his bonus and kept climbing, keeping an eye out for Maelstrom. She was doing fine, lagging some five yards behind him.

  Soon, he reached the top, claiming another fifty yards for his team, before his ally appeared some two seconds later.

  “Let’s go.” Maelstrom was winded, but she insisted on speed, and hopefully, they would lose all opponents by the next wall.

  On the thirty-sixth cliff, there was only one newcomer, and they arrived only when Newt and Maelstrom were less than twenty yards from the top. With one last exertion, the pair reached the ledge, and left their final opponent to crumble under the pressure.

  “Let’s rest.” Sweat trickled down Maelstrom’s brow, and while tired, Newt was nowhere nearly as exhausted.

  “Let’s.” He shrugged and sat.

  They rested for twenty minutes, before they continued their ascend. Newt and Maelstrom sandwiched their climbs with breaks, and two hours later, they were approaching the fortieth ledge.

  “Sorry, this is as far as I go!” Maelstrom shouted, then the world crashed onto Newt’s shoulders.

  Granite dust danced in the air, illuminated by the spirit gem slag from the walls, stinging Newt’s nose and trying to invade his lungs. The sensation overpowered him, but Newt’s body moved regardless of what his eyes and other senses told him.

  Then he reached the ledge. He walked slowly towards the wall, looked up to find the bonus nest, then climbed up so as not to stumble upon it. Collecting the points required veering off course slightly, and veering required him to be on the cliff, rather than enduring the tunnels of his traumatic memories.

  Newt entered the darkness, trudged through it, and emerged on the other side. Again and again, the cycle repeated itself, Newt grew numb to the pain and pressure, unaware of what was happening, until his body gave out and he found himself on the square.

  The dusty, dark tunnel disappeared, light burning Newt’s eyes, as the surrounding murmurs replaced the silence of the mines. Then, a voice cleaved the silence.

  “Let us greet the Explorer’s Gate’s young hero with a thunderous applause!” Roaring applause and shouts followed the suave voice.

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  Newt’s vision swam, a portion of his mind and body still facing the impossible, infinite wall.

  He could feel his teammates once more carrying him, but the daze continued, and after a while he found himself in the fancy tavern, with vaguely familiar people slapping his back and congratulating him or complimenting his endurance and perseverance.

  Newt did not know how it happened, but after what felt like everyone in the world coming to spill inane words, the quiet finally descended on him. He sat in a private corner booth, sharing his refuge with Maelstrom and Dandelion.

  “So,” Dandelion activated his anti-eavesdropping talisman, “good show, both of you. I’m proud of how well you have done. Newstar especially; you shone so brightly, I think some of the highest ranking powers in the world are planning to send assassins after you as soon as the imperial grace ends for your sect.”

  Newt blinked, Dandelion’s words forcing his mind to snap back together and escape the climb’s haze.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “You’re begging the wrong person.” Dandelion flashed him a smile that had more tyrannosaurus than mirth in it. “But you need not worry. I believe Maelstrom’s grandfather will handle your problem. A damn shame I have nobody to handle mine.”

  Newt stared in confusion. Maelstrom’s Grandfather; Dandelion had an equally serious problem, what was going on? Before he could ask his questions, the man continued.

  “But I have brought you here for another reason. You are aware that the four cults have been extremely active in the last half a century?”

  Newt shook his head, he only had real information on the Blood Cult and it involved three attacks, on his sect, his clan, and Emeraldstreak’s family, but Maelstrom nodded, further confusing Newt.

  “Over a hundred families, small and large, have suffered attacks in the last fifty years, twenty in the past four. The incidents are growing more frequent and intense. The cults’ are becoming bold again.”

  “Again?” Newt asked, and Dandelion looked at Maelstrom.

  “Do you know what I’m talking about?”

  She nodded and Dandelion motioned her to speak.

  “The Sages’ Association was once the official name of the four cults. The Cult of Blood, the Cult of Bone, the Cult of Ghost, and the Cult of Flesh were once a singular organization.”

  “They still are,” Dandelion corrected, “but that’s not all. I have been in this city for a while, and I have been reading the historical records of the Sages’ War. The records are heavily censored, with whole pages of the records fabricated. I had difficulty finding whether the Sages’ Association launched a failed rebellion against the imperials, or the imperials launched a successful rebellion against the Sages’ Association.”

  Newt’s jaw struck the floor, and even Maelstrom gasped.

  “There is no proof, but with the waters so muddled, I’m personally leaning towards the latter possibility. And with the recent trend of attacks, it’s highly possible the Sages’ Association will try to reestablish itself as the dominant force above the grand sects and above the imperials themselves.”

  “We’ll fight them to the death.” Maelstrom’s voice shook with rage.

  Dandelion shrugged, and Maelstrom’s eyes narrowed, but he ignored her. “Some will probably shift allegiances, but Sword Abode will oppose them, like Tidebreaker Abyss, and since I’ll be their disciple starting tomorrow, I guess the cultists are my enemy too. Not that I have been making things easy for them. And that brings me to the reason why I’m discussing this with the two of you.”

  Dandelion looked them both in the eye. “I have miscalculated regarding this tournament. It lasted too long, I revealed too much ability, and now I’ll pay the price. Once I enter Sword Abode, I will be under house arrest, cultivating, training, and crafting for years. It’s not a bad life, and I will enjoy a wealth of resources, but I will have no personal freedom, meaning I won’t be seeing you for a while. That’s why, tonight, I decided to give you this bit of warning and also to offer my sincere congratulations. I am very happy for the two of you, congratulations!”

  Finally, Newt’s confusion infested Maelstrom, as she mirrored his slack-jawed expression.

  “After a bit of negotiations between your grandfather, Maelstrom, and your sect master, Newstar, the two of you will be getting engaged.”

  The two youths stared at Dandelion with wide eyes.

  “No way!” Maelstrom stood so forcefully, she would have overturned the table if not for Dandelion clamping it still between his fingers even before it moved. For all her violent effort, she failed to spill a drop of tea or wine.

  “Yes way,” Dandelion smiled. “You have found yourself quite a catch, Maelstrom, you too, Newstar, so as the one who did the honors of introducing you, I expect to be invited to the event, as well as to the wedding.”

  “There’s no way my grandfather would do that! He promised he wouldn’t interfere!”

  “He lied, that’s what politicians do, and tenth realm cultivators, for all their power, are basically near-immortal politicians.” Dandelion shifted his gaze to Newt. “Do you have anything to add, Newstar? I will warn you to think before any words leave your mouth, lest Maelstrom leave this fine establishment with your testicles.”

  “Why me?” Newt squeezed out.

  “Because you are the most promising candidate. You come from a weak background, and the patriarch Tidebreaker mistakenly believes he will have an easy time controlling you while improving his lineage. The same delusion he shares regarding Maelstrom here.”

  “There’s no way, he’s a pumpkin.” Maelstrom shook her head in shock.

  “You will see. Just don’t forget to send an invitation to the Sword Abode and address it to Dandelion. I did connect you two lovebirds after all.” Dandelion winked, and Newt finally realized his big brother was not joking while a part of him wondered what lovebirds were.