M.S. Davidson
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46. Proving a Point
🕑 Added 2025-09-07 16:00:07 +0000 UTCRed's snoring shattered the silence like a chainsaw through silk. I jerked awake, heart hammering, then glared at the furry culprit sprawled across half my bed. His paws twitched as he chased dream rabbits, completely oblivious to my suffering.
Of course.
A soft knock froze us both. Red's eyes snapped open, one ear shooting up like a periscope while the other flopped sideways, giving him the dignity of a wet mop. He scrambled upright, nearly tumbling off the bed in his panic.
I rolled out of bed, yanked on clothes, and cracked the door. A Sentarian stood in the dark hallway, practically glowing with enough gold jewelry to fund a small army.
"Amituofo, Breaker," he said in Eloquentia, bowing with elaborate ceremony. "This decrepit monk is known as Narrin."
My brain stuttered. Decrepit? The guy was dripping with more wealth than most kings in any story I could think of. Gold chains draped his teal robes like he'd robbed a dragon's hoard. Wait, were there dragons on Ark?
"Uh, nice to meet you, Narrin." I blinked hard, trying to process the walking contradiction. "What time is it?"
"It is before sunrise. This indigent monk has been sent to request your audience with Arryava Pusa, Representative of the Sentarian."
Wait, he understood English? A laugh escaped before I could stop it. "Wait—indigent means poor, right? What's with the walking treasury you're wearing?"
Narrin's expression didn't even flicker. "Amituofo, Breaker. Material wealth is meaningless in the pursuit of Bodhi."
Right. Because that makes perfect sense.
I glanced back at Red, who had already flopped over, thoroughly abandoning me for the warm spot I'd left behind.
"Traitor," I muttered. Red huffed and kicked a leg like he was telling me exactly where I could stick my complaints. "Fine. Lead the way, Narrin."
The walk through the Tower felt endless. We wound past the Atrium, up through the Citadel into La-Roc, and I realized just how deep underground my room actually was. Every step reminded me I was climbing out of what felt like a magical basement.
Once we cleared the courtyard, Narrin veered left, skirting around Maris's massive boat—still wedged in the road—and slipped into a half-destroyed building. Two doors later, we were descending into the old pathways Erik had shown me.
Narrin moved like he had somewhere urgent to be, and I jogged to keep up. Questions burned in my throat, but the monk's pace left no room for conversation.
The tunnels gradually widened into interconnected halls that sloped downward. The rough stone gave way to smooth marble, then exploded into colors that made my eyes water—vibrant whites, deep reds, brilliant blues, all accented with enough gold to make a pharaoh jealous.
Massive golden statues lined the halls like silent sentinels, their hands frozen in intricate mudras. If not for the distinctly alien features, I could've sworn I'd wandered into the most elaborate Buddhist temple on Earth.
We entered an antechamber that dwarfed everything I'd seen so far. Three enormous golden Sentarian statues sat atop lotus-shaped platforms, their presence somehow both serene and intimidating.
Narrin approached halfway and bowed so deeply I thought gravity might finish the job.
"This one brings the Breaker as requested," he announced in English.
Silence stretched like a held breath.
"You may leave us, Narrin of the Broken Path."
The voice was pure silk wrapped around steel, coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. My enhanced senses couldn't pin down the source, and that sent warning bells screaming through my head.
Narrin shuffled backward, still bowed, never raising his head. He vanished from the room like smoke.
I opened my mouth to call after him when—
WHAM.
A massive golden face materialized centimeters from mine.
I yelped and stumbled backward, heart trying to escape through my throat. Bravery was completely oblivious to it. The statue danced gracefully back to its platform with impossible grace, and mischievous laughter filled the air.
My gaze snapped to another statue—except this one had a passenger. A figure perched on its head, resembling the other Sentarians but... more. Her chitinous body looked like ceremonial armor painted in vibrant colors, and two long antennae curved back like elegant feathers.
"Arryava Pusa?" I managed.
"Ben Crawford?" Her voice danced with amusement, but she was no longer where I was looking.
Bravery screamed she was behind me. I spun—only to feel her presence shift left. Anticipating the trick, I whirled right instead.
She stood inches away, staring at me with eyes that sparkled like captured starlight.
Up close, she was breathtaking. Her carapace gleamed with painted designs that seemed to shift in the light, and her ridges were far more pronounced than any Sentarian I'd seen.
She reached out and booped my nose with one delicate finger.
"It is no fun if you figure it out right away," she said with mock disappointment. "I can see why she was frustrated."
"Who was frustrated?" Curiosity overrode embarrassment.
"Alan'dara Rocdem'leth Sa'morn'yun." She skipped across the room as if gravity were optional. "She was so very mad at you for solving her secret puzzle."
I blinked. "That name has way too many apostrophes."
"Wait—you spoke with Dara? Is that her full name?"
Arryava giggled and practically floated toward the back of the room. "It is! And when she told me the story, I knew I had to accelerate our meeting."
"Accelerate?" Unease crept up my spine.
She stopped mid-skip, turning with raised eyebrows. "I do not know how customs work on Earth, but here, it is customary to follow the person you are speaking with, Ben Crawford."
Earth. Not Terra. Interesting.
"Right. Sorry." I jogged to catch up, noting how she'd said that like she knew exactly where I was from.
She slid a section of wall aside like it weighed nothing, revealing a lavishly decorated bedroom. Without pause, she continued through and out onto a balcony that stretched across the far side.
I followed and froze.
An entire city sprawled below us. Golden buildings with pagoda-like roofs stretched to the horizon, their surfaces gleaming under the soft, ambient light. Streets teemed with thousands of Sentarians moving in perfect harmony, flowing around massive Trailbinders that zipped toward larger thoroughfares before vanishing into the metropolis depths.
But it was the structure in the distance that sent ice through my veins and fire across my skin.
A golden pyramid painted in the same vibrant hues as Arryava's carapace dominated the skyline.
I'd seen it before. Framed by a dying sun in another world entirely.
"The Imperial City Mo-Lei," Arryava said, leaning against the stone railing with a sigh that carried centuries of weight. "There is more than one Empire on this world, though admittedly ours is much smaller than it used to be."
My mouth went dry. "I've seen this place before."
She turned, antennae twitching with interest. "Have you now?"
"Do you know much about Spirit Realms, Ben Crawford?" she asked, as if reading my thoughts.
I shook my head, still staring at the impossible city spread below us.
"They are reflections of all important things in the physical realm. Worlds like this one create hundreds, if not thousands, of them. We believe the realm you ended up in before coming here was a remnant of our true home from ages past."
My blood turned to ice water. "Someone… wanted us to meet?"
"Indeed." She straightened and motioned me back inside. "Not just you and me, but the Sentarian Collective. We were connected by karma the moment you stepped foot on Ark."
She lowered herself onto what looked like an ornate beanbag chair. I sat across from her, sinking into unexpected comfort while my mind reeled.
"Someone saved me and sent me to your people's old home on purpose?" The words felt surreal leaving my mouth.
"Someone wanted us to meet, Ben Crawford. I have been advised that by some chance, your people are familiar with our ways. Do you know what I am to my Collective?"
I searched my memory. "Pusa. A... Bodhisattva?"
Her eyes lit up like twin stars, and her mandibles parted in what had to be a smile. "I have not heard that term in a very long time. Most would say I am a Sage."
A sage? An Enlightened one?
"So you have answers?" Hope and frustration warred in my chest.
Arryava sighed, suddenly looking ancient despite her vibrant colors. "I do not know who saved you, but we have our theories why. I fear I may lead you to more questions, some of which cannot be asked safely. But I will do what I can to guide you—karma must remain balanced."
Questions that couldn't be asked safely? That sounded ominous as hell.
"Were your people fleeing the Caretakers?"
She hissed like I'd struck her, the sound sharp enough to make me flinch.
"Do not call them by such a name," she snapped, her peaceful demeanor cracking. "It is a self-imposed title meant to diminish their destructive nature. The Cursed Shi'an take no care, Ben Crawford. They are, and will always be, the enemy of all living things."
The venom in her voice could have melted steel. She regained her composure quickly, but the brief glimpse of fury left me shaken.
"Yes," she said simply. "That tale is one I would love to recount, but it will not have value in this exchange. I feel my karmic duty is to prepare you for the realities of the near future. Even if that means readying you for a life beyond this world."
My stomach clenched. "I don't intend to let that happen. But a week isn't long to prepare."
Arryava laughed, bright and musical. "Do not let the limitations of others dictate yours."
Despite everything, I grinned. "Now that's proper advice from a Sage."
"I cannot describe how elated I am that the cultivation of one's soul has manifested within your people, Ben Crawford. Even if only in small amounts, as Ferris suggested." She leaned forward, eyes sparkling with anticipation. "We have time, so please—ask your questions. I will answer what I can. And then... perhaps we can make a Seeker out of you."
The weight of that offer hit me like a sledgehammer. Seeker. The first proper step into Runebinding. The thing that could kill me if I fucked it up.
Blinking, I tried to distract myself. I had plenty of questions, but they all traced back to the same source—the one even Diana couldn't answer.
"Why me?" The words came out raw. "Why would the Shi'an want me? I'm nobody special on Earth."
Arryava visibly hesitated, her antennae drooping slightly. "I have met a few Humans in my long life. Each with a soul as unique as leaves on a tree, but powerful. More like a Sentarian than a Gaian or Floran."
She studied me with eyes that seemed to see through my skin to something deeper.
"A very long time ago, when I was quite young, I met a man from Earth. His soul had such depth that even our Elders bowed to him, laying the foundation for what many in the Collective consider the Golden Age of our people. It was as if his spirit was a flame, and we were drawn to it."
My heart hammered. "And you think I'm like that?"
"No," she said flatly, crushing that spark of hope. "But it is something. Even now, I feel the weight of your soul. The Shi'an covet souls, for they have none of their own. Perhaps yours is unique in a way they found... interesting. Or amusing."
My mind flashed to the dark room where I'd awakened. The cosmic download of Light. The terrifying battle between impossibly powerful forces had started this whole situation. Heat rose in my cheeks as my pulse quickened.
Ted, was this all because of the strange world inside my soul?
Arryava caught my hesitation like a hawk spotting prey.
"You do not owe me more information," she said diplomatically. "But I would ask anyway. When Ferris assisted you with your foundational meditation, he described what he saw as... distinct. Do you have any memories of interactions with your spiritual self?"
The words left my mouth before I could stop them. "I wouldn't say I'm interacting with myself. More like... a guide?"
Shit. If Ted was the reason I was here, that seemed like information I should have kept to myself.
But Arryava only nodded, her expression brightening. "Your soul can manifest in many ways, but interacting with it directly is a rare boon. Most receive only glimpses—abstract concepts or fleeting impressions. To have a soul willing to guide its physical reflection?"
Her mandibles parted in an ethereal smile. "That is fortunate indeed, and possibly the very answer to your question."
Something clicked into place. Not everything—not even close—but enough to untangle some knots in my stomach I hadn't realized were there.
My soul. Whatever made me special, it started there.
"So you don't know who saved me?"
She shook her head. "I cannot say. The level of power required to overpower a Shi'an in the Astral is beyond my understanding. If I were younger and more naive, I might have said a God. But they are long dead."
I blinked hard. Each answer spawned ten new questions, just as she had predicted.
"What's the Astral?"
"It is the river that flows between the Spiritual and Physical realms, though it does not flow in one direction." She made a vague hand motion as if it explained everything. "Portals in the Tower use it to connect two places at once."
"Right. Of course. The Astral." I stared at her blankly.
Arryava giggled. "I would not expect you to understand it right away. Many dedicate their lives to studying it, yet even they can only glimpse pieces of the truths that bind reality together."
She turned her head and made a subtle gesture. The door slid open, and five Sentarians entered carrying what looked like an ornate bathtub made entirely of gleaming Orichalcum. They set it down in the room, bowed deeply, then backed out with lowered heads. Not a word was spoken.
I leaned forward, peering into the tub. Blue liquid shimmered inside, thick and rich like honey infused with starlight.
"What is that?"
Arryava stood gracefully. "Are you aware that I sit on the council of admissions at Sylvarus?"
I shook my head.
"Normally, I would be preparing to administer entrance exams soon. But this Tournament has changed the rules substantially. Not even binding your Seal would be enough to get you into Sylvarus now." Her expression grew serious. "I am sad to say, your only path is to perform spectacularly."
She ran a finger through the liquid, and it rippled with eerie blue energy that made my pathways tingle just watching it.
"This is a spirit-steel tub attuned to your root affinities—Spirit, Life, and Light. It will resonate with your Seal while we bind it."
I reached out and barely brushed the surface—
CRACK.
Energy exploded through me like lightning. My mana pathways erupted with sensation, every nerve singing as power surged through my body in uncontrollable waves.
"Holy—" I yanked my hand back, gasping as the energy slowly dissipated, leaving me feeling like I was about to burst from the inside out.
"And that," Arryava said with obvious amusement, "is Golden Lotus Nectar. A specialty of my people and what we use to assist with binding our Seals. There are many ways to accomplish this—we prefer a more direct method given our affinity with our souls."
I stared at the tub like it might bite me. "That tiny amount nearly fried my pathways. If I get in there, I'll die."
"Since, as usual, no one thought to seek our input on your situation these past few days, I intend to prove a point to those who lead the Monster Hunters." Her eyes glittered with something that might have been mischief or might have been steel. "If you're willing to help, of course."
"Prove what point?"
"That we are useful. We are not a violent people—we do not gain power through conflict. I'm told you know the Apidae? Bees, as you called them to Ferris."
I nodded, pieces clicking together.
"So, your people are like bees? And this is honey from magical flowers?"
"You might compare it to royal jelly, though it is made from flowers in my garden." She gestured to the tub with obvious pride.
"What am I supposed to do with all this? Just touching it nearly killed me."
Arryava's eyes narrowed. "We have a saying when it comes to this: Light the fire before you try to add more fuel."
Understanding hit like a sledgehammer. I reached for Valor and bound it, feeling the enormous pull on my mana pathways. My senses exploded outward—
And I froze.
Two dozen Sentarians stood just outside the door, motionless as statues. But what truly staggered me was Arryava herself. With Valor active, I could perceive something about her that defied comprehension.
She carried the weight of worlds. Her presence was so immense it distorted reality around her, like staring at a star that had taken humanoid form. Her color was more saturated, her movements more graceful, and her eyes sparkled with emotions too vast for mortal understanding.
This woman could probably level mountains with a thought.
"Now enter the tub," she said, motioning toward the vessel with casual authority. "We will begin your first step as a true Runebinder. It may not be pleasant, but if you reach your limit, I will remove you safely. Do not worry."
I stared at the tub, then at her, then back at the tub. This was insane. But I was going to have to do it eventually.
Shaking my head, I swung a leg over the edge. My foot sank into the honey-like substance, and electricity shot up my leg like I'd grabbed a live wire. Sharp pain spread through my body as every nerve caught fire.
Gritting my teeth, I brought my other foot down. The fire inside me roared to life, and I looked to Arryava with what probably passed for panic.
She simply motioned downward. "Sit. Meditate. Channel it all to your Seal. The rune must be at full power."
Valor blazed white-hot in my mind's eye—so bright it felt branded into my vision.
Bracing myself, I lowered into the tub. The pain didn't intensify, but I could feel my pathways straining like overstressed cables about to snap.
"I will assist you with the process," Arryava said, leaning over the tub.
Her antennae extended toward my temples like elegant silver wires.
I flinched, but the moment they made contact, the world went white.
