Sadi sat with her legs crossed in a cycling position, cycling the light madra in the dark cave. She was sure that was what Sunda meant by finding the light in the darkness. When Sadi focused on expanding her perception, she could feel the light madra that was invisible from her eyes. It was everywhere, so difficult to find yet so plentiful.

  The parasite ring slowed the cycling of her madra, and she had to exert more strength and focus. But she was getting used to it.

  "Keep cycling," A stranger's voice drawled.

  She was about to open her eyes to greet the man, but he continued.

  "No," he said, as if he knew what Sadi was about to do. "Keep cycling."

  She obeyed. Sweat trickled down her head as she continued to struggle.

  "Perception out," the man guided her.

  She tried to extend her perception further, feeling the madra outside her room.

  "Not like that. Imagine you're using your eyes," the man yawned. "See without your eyes."

  Sadi thought she was already doing that, but she guessed she was wrong based on what the man said. So she tried to do what he had suggested. Instead of trying to feel the madra through her perception, she decided to see.

  The light aura around her blinded her eyes. The sudden illumination caused her to fall back, breaking her cycling. She covered her eyes with her hands. The light was too bright to the point it hurt.

  "You're a light artist. Control it," the man suggested lazily.

  Sadi focused her madra and manipulated the light aura around her. The light aura lessened, and soon, she saw only a faint grey instead of blinding white. She opened her eyes and felt that they were moist. She felt her core and was almost blinded again. She had gone through something similar during her previous advancement. But this time was different. It was more intense, more painful.

  "Jade," the man muttered a single word.

  She turned to see the man behind her. He had shaggy black hair shorter than The Beast King's. But what caught her attention was the two green horns protruding from his forehead.

  She pressed her fists together and bowed. "This one is named Nasiri Sadi. And this one thanks the Elder for his guidance."

  The man, leaning against the round stone door, gave her a lethargic gaze with his green eyes.

  The man was not talking. Unsure what to do or say, she continued bowing. She heard the man shuffle his feet, and she looked up. He was stepping to the side, slowly, as if not to alert her. He sighed when he saw her noticing his movements.

  "Ziel," he muttered. He pointed to his stomach, right above his core. "You want to test your sight?"

  "May I?" Sadi asked in surprise. Using her Jade sight on someone with equal advancement back in Sacred Valley was rude, and she thought it would be the same out here.

  The man shrugged and continued to look at her impassively. "Why not? Almost everyone had done so," he said nonchalantly.

  She nodded and opened her perception. Her vision was clearer than before; she could see his core and madra channels in far more detail than her previous Jade sight. She cringed inwardly at the sight. His madra channels were twisted and maimed. But the power he still had was far beyond her current advancement.

  "Good," the man said, flicking a finger at the stone door. Sadi saw a flash of green light, and the stone door was flung open. "I am going to help your boyfriend now."

  Sadi did not respond. She was too caught up by what she had seen. The man was at least gold, and her perception told her he still had power beyond Ellie's advancement. He was beyond gold once upon a time. Then he had been mangled and crippled. She knew she would have died if someone had done it to her. She felt shivers crawl down her spine at the thought of going through the same experience.

  Whitehall sat with his legs crossed in a pool of venom. He focused his entire mind on his cycling. The parasite ring made it difficult, and the venom would eat him alive if he faltered. He could feel the venom's desire to enter his skin; the only thing that prevented it was his control.

  "Perception," the stranger muttered for the fifteenth time.

  Whitehall gritted his teeth and tried to push his perception out. The venom bit into his pores, and he returned his focus to cycling. Whitehall's body shivered as he felt the man using his perception.

  "I see now," the man sighed. "Trust the venom. That it will never hurt you."

  Whitehall bit his lips and tried to extend his perception again. He felt blood in his mouth as his bite tightened. His skin burned as the venom devoured it.

  "What kind of poison artist is afraid of their own poison?" the man asked sluggishly.

  The venom burned, and Whitehall returned his focus to keeping it out of his channels. He waited for the man's voice again, but the man had stayed quiet. It seems the man had reached his limit.

  Whitehall's mind whirled with inner conflict. He was fine with suicide missions, but this felt like just suicide. But was he not on a suicide mission already? Screw it , he thought to himself. I've died before .

  He opened his perception fully and removed the defences he had maintained against the venom. They rushed inside him, devouring everything greedily.

  "Keep your perception out," the man finally spoke again.

  Whitehall screamed, extending his perception to the fullest and expecting the pain that would come. But there was no pain as if the venom wanted to help instead. The venom entered him and went through his madra channels, settling in his core. His perception widened, and he could feel the stranger's madra in front of him. Whitehall could feel the man's core and opened his eyes in shock.

  The man stood leaning against a wall, his arms crossed on his chest.

  Whitehall held himself back from asking. He pressed his fists and greeted the man instead. "This one thanks the Elder for his guidance. This one is called-"

  The man immediately cut in. "I know your names," he muttered in frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I've seen to and observed your training," he continued, returning to his initial lazy way of speaking.

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  Whitehall opened his mouth, but the man answered before he could ask.

  "You two were iron. Your perception was... not there yet."

  Whitehall bowed. "This one thanks you, Elder."

  "Ziel," the man replied. "Just Ziel."

  Ziel was more advanced than Whitehall and deserved the honorific. But at the same time, he seems to be more annoyed by it than The Beast King. "This one thanks you, Ziel."

  Ziel let out a long, audible sigh. "You two are perfect for each other," he shook his head.

  Whitehall observed his Jade core. Where the previous time he was Jade, his core was a faint yellow light like a candle; this time, it was black. His core was reflective, almost like a concentrated sword aura. But his core bubbled and boiled with venom.

  "Come on, then," Ziel's voice cut through Whitehall's self-observations. Someone wants to see you two." He flicked his finger to open the stone door. Whitehall's perception told him he used a technique with scripts.

  "Master?" Whitehall asked, stepping out of the venom pool.

  "He'll be there," Ziel said as he left the chamber.

  Whitehall followed and saw Sadi sitting against the hallway wall near his cycling room, waiting for them. She was channelling light aura on the tip of her fingers and inspecting it closely. She stopped when she saw them exiting.

  She gave Whitehall a questioning look, and he nodded in response. She returned the nod. They were both Jade again.

  Ziel kept walking, and they jogged to catch up. He led them to the cave entrance and nodded to a bear sacred beast to open the giant stone door. Sadi and Whitehall looked at each other, delighted by the chance to finally leave the cave.

  The sunlight caused Whitehall to look away. After spending months in the dim cave, his eyes had forgotten how bright it was outside. Sadi was not affected and smiled instead. Whitehall watched her eyes gleaming familiarly under the golden sun.

  Ziel had not waited for them, leaving a trail of footprints in the dense forest. Whitehall grinned as he ran, weaving through the twisted trees. There was a lightness in his steps—a breath of freedom that made his heart pound.

  A laugh escaped him, unexpected and raw. The sound echoed off the gnarled trunks, startling a bird into flight. He glanced sideways, catching Sadi's eye. She was smiling, her eyes sparkling with an energy he hadn't seen since they'd entered the cave. Her hair streamed behind her, and momentarily, the world's weight seemed to lift.

  It felt good to be out of the cave. The air was crisp, filled with the scent of grass and damp earth.

  Finally, the footprints stopped at a small clearing. Sunlight poured through the break in the trees, illuminating a patch of soft grass. A tree they had never seen before stood at the centre, its roots at the height of houses. Its bark reached far up to the sky, emerging taller than any other tree in the forest. Whitehall could feel the overwhelming life aura from the distance.

  Ziel stood at the perimeter of the clearing, waiting for someone or something. A few moments later, The Beast King stepped out of the root. He smirked when he saw his two youngest disciples' dishevelled state.

  "Enjoying Jade?" he asked, still smiling.

  "Yes, master," they replied and bowed.

  Ziel sighed again for the third time today.

  "Good, good," The Beast King placed his hands on Whitehall and Sadi's shoulders.

  "What do you need us to do, master?" Whitehall asked.

  The Beast King's smile disappeared. It was fake, anyway. He looked to the side. "My master would like to see you two in her final hours," he muttered, soft and solemn yet clear.

  Whitehall felt the weight of The Beast King's words. He never knew The Beast King had a master. Whitehall's smile disappeared, and he noticed Sadi did the same. They would be in their best behaviour to honour The Beast King's master.

  "Go," The Beast King ordered. "She waits for you."

  They looked up to him as they straightened. "Are you not going to join us, master?" Sadi asked.

  "No," The Beast King answered. "I'll wait here with Zeal."

  They hesitantly nodded and trudged towards the opening in the tree's root, dried leaves crunched at every step. They entered the root and saw a faint glow of golden light reflected on the walls. They followed the narrow path with Whitehall in the lead.

  The path led them into a room, and Whitehall saw a giant golden bird lying on a makeshift bed. The bird's size filled the room. A few similar but much smaller birds sat by its side, glowing brightly, unlike the giant one. Whitehall was unable to shift his gaze from the giant bird- its golden beak, its golden talons, its golden feathers.

  "Sunda!" Sadi yelled, running past Whitehall and kneeling beside the bird.

  "Leave us, my children," Sunda said to her offspring. Her voice was melodic and soft. The smaller birds left the room, leaving Sadi and Whitehall alone.

  "Sadi, dear child," Sunda said, running her wing gently on the girl's face. "I would like to speak with Whitehall alone. I'll speak with you last."

  Tears fell from Sadi's eyes as she cried for the bird she barely knew. She nodded and walked out of the room. Her tears doubled as she left the root. She was unsure why she felt such sadness, crying like never before- shedding tears that she did not shed when her brother died.

  Elder Empire

  Iteration requested. Asylum

  Date? Request Rejected

  Report Complete

  "Tora, we're almost there!" Captain Malin bellowed over the roar of the wind and waves. "Put all the sails down! Jibe if you have to!"

  "Aye, Captain!" Tora, the first mate, shouted back. He turned to the crew, his voice carrying authority. "You heard the Captain! Full speed ahead! Our treasures are waiting for us!"

  The ship cut through the choppy waters with precision, its crew working in perfect harmony. It didn't take long for them to reach the mouth of the cave, hidden within the rugged cliffs of a mountain island rising defiantly from the ocean. They lowered a small raft, and Malin, Tora, and five other crew members rowed into the shadowy depths of the cave.

  As they ventured deeper, the dim light from their torches flickered against the jagged walls, casting eerie shadows. When they finally reached the heart of the cave, the sight before them left everyone speechless—except Malin. While the others gaped in awe and greed, Malin stood with a triumphant grin plastered across his face.

  "Once more, Captain, I have to ask... how?" Tora said, his voice filled with a mix of admiration and disbelief. "How do you always know where to find these things?"

  Malin shrugged, his grin widening. "Call it a gut feeling. It's as if I can sense the right way."

  Tora raised an eyebrow, looking at Malin incredulously. "I'll be honest, Captain. The first time I agreed to follow you, I was desperate." He gestured toward the wreckage ahead—a massive, rotting ship, its hull splintered and overgrown with barnacles. "But now? You've brought us to the wreck of a long-lost eastern ship. I knew you had potential when you, a lowly ship cleaner, asked me to follow you. But this? This is beyond anything I could've imagined."

  "Nope," Malin replied, his tone light and teasing.

  Tora frowned. "No?"

  "You didn't follow me because you thought I had potential," Malin said with a chuckle. "You were desperate."

  Tora burst out laughing, the sound echoing through the cavern. "Aye, mostly that."

  The crew quickly got to work, gathering the treasures scattered throughout the cave. More men were brought ashore to help search and load the loot. The haul was staggering—piles of gold coins, ancient jewels that sparkled even in the dim light, and artefacts that spoke of a bygone era.

  "Captain!" one of the crew members shouted, his voice tinged with excitement. "Found something that might interest you!"

  Malin followed the voice, his boots crunching against the rocky ground. The crew member stood over a small, ornate chest, its surface intricately carved but tarnished with age. The man had tried to open it, but the lock held firm.

  "Put it on the ground," Malin ordered. He pulled a hammer from his belt and knelt beside the chest. With a few sharp strikes, the lock gave way, and the chest creaked open. Most of its contents had rotted to dust, but a bundle of papers tied together with a crumbling rubber band caught his eye. The ink had faded, rendering the words illegible.

  What truly captured Malin's attention, however, was a signet ring nestled among the debris. He picked it up, brushing off the dust to reveal its intricate design. The ring was made of silver, its face adorned with the carving of a bird—its wings and legs spread wide, a shield emblazoned on its chest. The shield was divided into four sections, each bearing a different emblem. Malin squinted, trying to make out the details. One looked like a tree, another a bull, but the others were too worn to decipher.

  As he held the ring, a strange sensation washed over him—a feeling he couldn't quite place. It was as if the ring carried a weight far beyond its physical form, a whisper of something ancient and significant. Malin slipped it onto his finger, the metal cool against his skin, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath.

  "You have made a great discovery, Captain Malin," the man on the throne declared, his voice resonating through the grand hall. The Sultan's words were measured, each syllable dripping with authority and grandeur. "For your service, you shall be rewarded handsomely."

  Malin knelt before the throne, his head bowed in a show of respect. The marble floor was cool beneath his knees, and the air was thick with the scent of incense and the faint metallic tang of gold. "I thank you for your generosity, Great Sultan," he replied, his voice steady but laced with humility.

  The Sultan continued his speech, extolling Malin's achievements and the value of the treasures he had brought to the kingdom. But Malin's attention had already drifted. His eyes flicked to the side, where one of the Sultan's daughters stood among her attendants. She was young, her features sharp and regal, but it was her expression that caught his attention—a mischievous smile playing on her lips, her eyes gleaming with curiosity and something else he couldn't quite place.

  Malin's lips curved into a smirk, barely noticeable to anyone but her. She tilted her head slightly, her smile widening as if sharing a secret only the two of them understood. The exchange lasted only a moment, but it was enough to send a thrill through him. Here, in the heart of the Sultan's palace, surrounded by opulence and power, Malin felt a different kind of victory—one that had nothing to do with gold or jewels.

  "How long has it been since you left?" Tseria asked, her voice soft and drowsy as she lay beside Malin, her head resting on his chest. The moonlight filtered through the sheer curtains of the chamber, casting a silvery glow over the room.

  "Left?" Malin murmured, his fingers absently tracing patterns on her arm.

  "Don't act stupid, Malin," Tseria said with a playful smirk, giving him a light punch on the shoulder. "Left home."

  Malin let out a low chuckle, his chest rumbling beneath her. "Hmm," he mused, staring up at the canopy above. "Three or four years now, I think."

  "Wow," Tseria replied, her tone tinged with admiration. She propped herself up on one elbow, her dark eyes sparkling in the moonlight. "Captain Malin, a man who took only four years to build an armada of twenty ships. The navigator guilds must be swooning over you."

  Malin grinned, his confidence shining through. "Guilds just aren't for me. Too many rules, too many egos." He shifted suddenly, rolling on top of her and pinning her gently to the bed. "Besides," he said, his voice dropping to a low, teasing murmur, "I have everyone I want swooning over me right here."

  Tseria giggled her laughter like music in the quiet room. She reached up, running her fingers down his chest, her touch light and teasing. "I do want to see where you grew up, Malin," she said, her tone turning thoughtful.

  Malin raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Oh?" he said, a smile tugging at his lips. "Does that mean...?"

  "Yes," Tseria replied, her eyes locking with his. "My father has agreed to our match." Her fingers stilled on his chest, and she smiled softly. "All we need to do now is for me to visit your home, and our engagement can officially proceed."

  Malin's heart swelled with joy, and he let out a laugh—a deep, unrestrained sound that filled the room. This was everything he had wanted, everything he had worked for. "I'd love that," he said, his voice warm with affection. He leaned down, brushing a kiss against her forehead. "I'll take you there myself. You'll see where it all began."

  Tseria smiled up at him, her expression a mix of excitement and tenderness. "I can't wait," she whispered, her fingers curling into his hair as she pulled him closer.

  For a moment, they lay there, wrapped in each other's warmth, the world outside forgotten. Malin's mind drifted to the village he had left behind, to the small house by the harbour and the woman who had raised him. He wondered what she would think of Tseria, of the life he had built, of the man he had become. And for the first time in years, he felt a pang of longing—not for the treasures he had sought, but for the home he had left behind.