Cultivation is Creation
Chapter 266: The Prophecy

I instinctively backed away, nearly toppling my cushion in the process.

Something about those blank eyes locked onto me sent a primal wave of unease through my body. Whatever was happening, it wasn't natural.

The other elders remained seated, though their expressions had shifted from reverence to a mixture of concern and... anticipation?

"Be at ease," Elder Mirel said, gesturing for me to sit back down. "The Saint is receiving a vision from the Blue Sun itself."

I settled back slowly, maintaining a cautious distance, watching as Icarus's body trembled and convulsed. Occasionally, his lips moved as if he were speaking, though no sound emerged. Beads of sweat formed on his brow, and a thin trickle of blood ran from his left nostril.

"This happens often?" I asked, unable to keep the concern from my voice.

"When the Blue Sun has important guidance to impart," Elder Mirel replied, her tone suggesting this was perfectly normal and not at all disturbing.

I studied Saint Icarus's contorted form, noting how his veins stood out against his translucent skin, glowing faintly with blue light. Whatever was happening to him looked excruciating.

"Is he in pain?" I persisted.

Elder Mirel's expression softened slightly. "The communion between mortal vessel and celestial wisdom is... intense. What you perceive as pain is merely the physical body's limited capacity to channel such pure energy."

That didn't really answer my question, but the message was clear, this was considered normal, expected, even honored.

"This will be your gift too, soon enough," Elder Sorrin whispered, mistaking my horror for awe.

Gift? It looked more like torture. Icarus was clearly in agony, his body jerking and twisting as though fighting against invisible restraints. Whatever was happening to him, I wanted no part of it.

I forced my expression into something that could pass for anticipation rather than dread. "It seems... intense."

"It is the highest honor," he replied solemnly. "To serve as the vessel for the Blue Sun's wisdom is the ultimate purpose to which any Lightweaver can aspire."

After what seemed like an eternity but was probably only a couple of minutes, Saint Icarus's body finally relaxed. His eyes rolled forward, though they remained unfocused for several seconds. When his gaze finally cleared, there was a new intensity in them, as if the "vision" had temporarily revitalized him.

"Forgive the interruption," he said, his voice stronger than before. "The Blue Sun had an important message to impart."

Elder Sorrin helped him sit upright again. "A message concerning young Tomas, perhaps?"

Icarus nodded, turning his gaze toward me. There was something in his expression I couldn't quite read, a complex mixture of emotions that seemed at odds with the apparent joyousness of the occasion.

"The Blue Sun has shown me a vision of your future, Tomas of Porvale," he announced. "A future unlike any other Saint before you."

The elders leaned forward, clearly as interested in this pronouncement as I was anxious about it.

"The Blue Sun revealed to me that you will be a Saint unlike any other," Icarus continued, his voice taking on a formal, almost prophetic quality. "In times of greatest darkness, when the barrier between worlds grows thin, you shall stand as the final guardian. Where others have prepared the way, you shall complete the journey. The last Saint of the current age, the first of the age to come."

A murmur ran through the assembled elders. I kept my expression carefully neutral, though internally, my mind was racing.

What did he mean, "the last Saint"? And "the barrier between worlds", that aligned with what I'd glimpsed in the previous iteration during Kal and Hiron's battle, where Kal had mentioned a breach widening between worlds.

Was I somehow tied to this cosmic conflict?

More concerning was the implication that I might be some kind of protagonist in this world's story. Had I somehow possessed the body of this world's chosen one? Was that why I kept returning to Tomas's body in each loop? The thought was both fascinating and terrifying. I'd assumed I was a random variable in this world, but what if I was somehow essential to its fate?

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

"I'm... honored by the Blue Sun's prophecy," I said carefully, "though I can't imagine how someone like me could fulfill such a grand purpose."

Icarus smiled, but there was something sad about it. "The Blue Sun chooses its vessels for reasons beyond our understanding, young Tomas. Your humble origins may be precisely why you were selected."

"The prophecy speaks of you as 'the last Saint of the current age,'" Elder Mirel noted, her tone concerned. "What do you believe that signifies, Most Honored Saint?"

Icarus's expression became guarded. "The Blue Sun's visions are not always literal. They speak in symbols and metaphors that reveal their true meaning in time." He paused, then added, "Perhaps it simply means that young Tomas will usher in a new era for our Order, a transformation rather than an ending."

This explanation seemed to satisfy the elders, but I wasn't convinced. There had been something in Icarus's tone, a resignation that suggested he knew exactly what the prophecy meant, and that it wasn't as benign as he was implying.

"Well, that's just great," Azure commented dryly in my mind. "First you're dragged into being a Saint against your will, and now you're apparently the chosen one destined to save or destroy the world. Your luck is truly impressive, Master."

I suppressed a smile at Azure's sarcasm. He wasn't wrong, the situation kept getting more complicated. What had started as a simple plan to learn more about the Blue Sun's cultivation system had somehow evolved into... this.

"Now," Icarus said, his voice returning to its normal cadence, "we must prepare for the Ceremony of Transference. The alignment will be perfect very soon."

"What exactly does the ceremony entail?" I asked, trying to focus on practical matters rather than existential dread.

"The process is both simple and profound," Icarus explained. "We will stand together beneath the blue sun's direct light. I will place my hands upon your shoulders, and you will place yours upon mine. The transference formation will activate, channeling the blue sun's essence through me and into you."

He gestured to the floor, and I noticed for the first time the intricate patterns inlaid in the crystal: circles within circles, interconnected by flowing lines that resembled both circuitry and calligraphy.

"As the ceremony progresses, my connection to the Blue Sun will gradually transfer to you. You may experience... sensations... during this process. Visions, insights, memories not your own. This is natural, the accumulated wisdom of previous Saints being passed down."

"And what happens to you?" I asked, though I suspected I already knew the answer.

A shadow passed over Icarus's face. "The position of Saint can only be held by one vessel at a time. When the transference is complete, my purpose will be fulfilled."

So I was right. The ceremony would kill him, draining his life force along with his connection to the Blue Sun. It was an elegant system, in a macabre sort of way, ensuring that no former Saint could ever challenge the authority of the current one.

"I see," I said quietly. "I'm... sorry."

Icarus waved away my concern. "Do not mourn what has not yet passed, and when it does pass, rejoice that I have completed my journey as intended. All things return to the light eventually."

His serenity in the face of his imminent death was either the result of profound spiritual enlightenment or extremely effective compartmentalization. Either way, I admired his composure.

"The elders will serve as witnesses," Icarus continued, nodding to Sorrin and the others. "They will chant the Litany of Transference, maintaining the ceremonial circle's stability as the power flows."

The elders nodded solemnly, clearly familiar with their roles in the upcoming ritual.

"Once the transference is complete, you will need time to adjust to your new connection," Icarus said. "The first few days can be... overwhelming. You will remain here, in the Apex, under the care of the senior healers until your body and spirit stabilize."

On the bright side that meant I still had some time to think of a feasible plan on dealing with Kal.

"It is time," Elder Sorrin announced, glancing at the position of the blue sun's light through the windows. "The Blue Sun approaches its zenith."

Saint Icarus nodded, rising with surprising grace for one so frail. He extended his hand to me. "Come, my boy. It is time."

I took his hand, noting how cold his skin felt against mine, and followed him toward the central platform. As we walked, he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper meant only for my ears.

"Whatever comes after, remember, the truth lies in the shadows between stars."

Before I could ask what he meant, we had reached the pedestals. He released my hand and took his position on the far side, facing me across the small gap where the crystal sphere would materialize.

The elders formed a circle around the platform, each taking a position marked by a specific symbol on the floor. They began a low chant in a strange ancient language, their voices resonating through the chamber:

Thanks to the system's translation ability, the meaning flowed into my mind effortlessly: "Blue Light, source of life and guardian of the world. Transfer the power, transfer the wisdom, transfer the burden."

"The old gives way to the new, the ending of the former, the beginning of the latter,” they continued, their voices growing stronger.

As their voices rose in unison, the beams of blue light streaming through the windows intensified, converging more precisely on the space between the pedestals. Within that convergence, a crystalline sphere began to form, molecule by molecule, out of pure blue sun energy.

"Accept this child, your new vessel."

Saint Icarus looked at me one last time, his eyes momentarily clear and focused. There was something in his gaze. A warning? A plea? An apology? Whatever it was, it sent a chill down my spine.

Then he smiled, a genuine expression that transformed his withered features into something almost beautiful. "May you find wisdom where I found only questions," he said softly.

And with that enigmatic blessing, he placed his hands on the now-complete crystal sphere.

It was time for me to do the same.

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