Cultivation is Creation
Chapter 267: Visions

With a deep breath that did nothing to calm my nerves, I extended my hands and placed them on the opposite side of the sphere from Icarus. The crystal felt neither hot nor cold beneath my touch, instead, it pulsed with a strange vitality, as if it were a living thing.

The moment my skin made contact, a jolt of energy surged through my palms and up my arms. Before I could process what was happening, my entire body went rigid. Every muscle locked simultaneously, freezing me in place as effectively as if I'd been turned to stone.

"What's—" I tried to speak, but my jaw refused to cooperate, the words emerging as little more than a strangled grunt.

"Be at ease, young one," Icarus said, his voice impossibly calm given the circumstances. "This paralysis is a natural part of the process. It is simply a formation to secure both vessels to prevent disruption of the energy flow. Resistance will only make the experience more... uncomfortable."

Uncomfortable? Easy for him to say, he could still talk.

"Master, he isn’t lying,” Azure informed me. "The sphere is made up of natural intricate formations. It's some kind of restriction technique."

With that reassurance, I relaxed a little, I had been a little worried that some eldritch horror was about to possess me.

Around us, the elders' chanting grew more intense, their voices rising and falling in perfect harmony. The blue light streaming through the windows intensified, focusing even more precisely on the crystal sphere between Icarus and me.

"The vessel is prepared," Elder Sorrin announced. "The conduit is established. The alignment is perfect. Let the transfer of essence begin."

Icarus closed his eyes. "Remember what I told you," he said softly. "The truth lies in the shadows between stars."

Before I could contemplate what he meant, Icarus's mouth opened.

A sound escaped him, not quite a gasp, not quite a scream, something between agony and release.

Then I saw it.

From between his parted lips emerged a miniature sun, a perfect sphere of concentrated blue light no larger than a marble.

"Is that—" I began, shocked to discover I could speak again, if barely.

"The Saint's Essence," Elder Mirel whispered reverently. "The direct conduit to the Blue Sun itself."

The tiny sun drifted slowly toward the crystal sphere between us, leaving a trail of shimmering blue particles in its wake. When it made contact with the crystal, the entire orb flared with blinding intensity, momentarily forcing me to close my eyes.

When I opened them again, the miniature sun was passing through the crystal, emerging on my side, drifting inexorably toward my face.

"What happens now?" I managed to ask.

"You receive the blessing," Icarus replied, his own voice noticeably weaker. "Open yourself to it. Do not resist."

The tiny sun continued its approach, now mere inches from my face. I could feel its heat, not a burning sensation, but a warmth that somehow reached beyond my skin to touch something deeper within me.

Suddenly, my jaw was wrenched open.

The miniature sun hovered before my gaping mouth for one eternal moment, as if considering whether I was worthy of its essence. Then, in a fluid motion, it flowed between my lips and down my throat.

The sensation was unlike anything I had ever experienced. It was as if I had swallowed liquid starlight, burning cold and freezing hot at the same time, spreading outward from my core to the furthest extremities of my body.

And then the visions came.

I was no longer in the ceremony chamber. I was everywhere and nowhere, a disembodied consciousness floating through scenes of a past I had never witnessed.

The first vision materialized around me.

A vast golden sun dominated the sky, its light neither red nor blue but a perfect harmony of both. The world below basked in this unified radiance, trees towered to impossible heights, animals and humans alike thrived in perfect health, and cultivators channeled power beyond anything I'd witnessed in this fractured world.

Then came the darkness.

It started as a small spot on the golden sun's surface, a blemish no larger than a fingerprint. But it spread rapidly, like ink in water, corruption consuming purity. The golden light began to fade, replaced by sickly shadows that twisted everything they touched.

In desperation, thirteen men and women stood in formation around a massive crystal array on a mountain peak. Their combined power reached toward the dying sun, not attempting to heal it, but to split it.

The sundering was both beautiful and terrible to behold.

The golden orb stretched, thinned, and finally tore apart with a soundless explosion that nonetheless shook the foundations of reality itself. Where once there had been unity, now there were two: the blue sun ascending toward the eastern sky, the red sun sinking toward the west.

"It is done," one of the ancient cultivators said, blood streaming from her eyes. "We have preserved what we could of the divine light. The corruption is contained, but not defeated."

"How long will the separation hold?" another asked, clutching his chest where a massive wound had opened.

"Not forever," the first replied. "Nothing is forever. But long enough, perhaps. Long enough for our descendants to find a more permanent solution."

They looked around at their circle, now reduced to just seven. Six of their companions lay dead, the price of their ritual paid in blood and life.

"The blue contains wisdom, healing, transcendence," the leader continued. "The red contains power, passion, transformation. Both necessary, both dangerous in isolation. They must be reunited

"And the protection?" a third cultivator asked, her voice fading as life ebbed from her body.

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"The barriers are established," the leader confirmed. "The world trees will maintain them, drawing strength from the divide itself.”

"And if it fails?" the dying woman whispered.

“Then, the only solution that will give us a fighting chance would be to merge both suns once more,” the leader replied.

The vision shifted, dissolving into mist before reforming into a new scene.

A peaceful village nestled in a valley, its fields ripe with golden grain, its people going about their daily tasks with contentment. Suddenly, the sky darkened as crimson clouds gathered. The air itself seemed to thicken, becoming difficult to breathe.

From the west, figures approached, humanoid in overall shape but grotesquely transformed. Some had multiple limbs sprouting from twisted torsos. Others featured misshapen heads with too many eyes or mouths. All moved with unnatural speed and purpose.

"The first Sun-Touched," a voice whispered. "Corrupted beyond salvation."

The attack was swift and merciless. Villagers fled screaming as the monsters tore through their homes and loved ones. Blood soaked the earth, and with each death, the red light in the sky pulsed stronger.

Then, from the east, blue light cut through the crimson clouds. Figures in azure robes descended, wielding techniques that contained and neutralized the aberrations. Where the blue light touched the corrupted creatures, their mutations receded, revealing the humans they had once been, though none survived the reversal.

"The Blue Sun preserves balance," the voice continued. "It protects humanity from the red madness."

After the battle, the blue-robed cultivators moved among the survivors, healing wounds, rebuilding structures, restoring hope.

The contrast couldn't have been clearer, red destroyed, blue preserved.

The scene dissolved again, replaced by a vision of terrible finality.

A blighted landscape stretched in all directions, barren and cracked. The skeletons of ancient trees reached toward a blood-red sky where only the crimson sun remained, swollen and malevolent.

Humanity survived only in scattered enclaves, protected by faltering barriers that grew weaker with each passing day. Within these last refuges, people huddled in fear, their bodies showing the early signs of the same mutations that had claimed those outside.

"This is the path of the Red Sun ascendant," the voice explained. "The extinction of all that makes one human."

Before I could process the horror of this potential future, the vision shifted one final time.

I, or rather, Tomas, stood atop an enormous tree that dwarfed mountains. I recognized it immediately as one of the World Trees mentioned in the first vision. Around me, in the far distance, other colossal trees punctuated the horizon, forming a perfect pattern across the land.

My hands were raised toward the sky, blue light streaming from my fingertips into the clouds above. From each of the distant World Trees, similar beams of azure energy reached skyward.

The roots of the great trees, impossibly, began to lift from the earth. They stretched upward, growing longer, reaching beyond the atmosphere toward the bloated red sun that dominated half the sky.

When the first root touched the crimson surface, there was a moment of resistance, then it punctured the celestial body like a spear through ripe fruit. More roots followed, piercing deeper, spreading through the red star's core.

Then, with deliberate slowness, the roots began to contract, pulling apart the corrupted sun. The red light fought back, flaring violently, sending waves of crimson fire along the wooden tendrils. Some of the smaller World Trees burst into flame, their connections severed.

But the largest trees, including the one I stood upon, held firm. The pulling continued until, with a silent explosion that nonetheless shook the entire world, the red sun tore apart, its essence dispersing into harmless particles that scattered across the void.

In its place, the blue sun expanded, filling the sky with pure azure light. The roots of the World Trees retreated, returning to the earth, drawing down the blue sun's healing energy.

Below, the land transformed. Vibrant forests erupted from barren soil. Clear waters flowed where toxic streams had once crawled. People emerged from their shelters, faces upturned to the singular blue light, their bodies healing, their spirits lifting.

"This is the path of balance restored," the voice concluded. "The salvation of all things through the triumph of wisdom over corruption."

The visions faded, and I found myself back in the ceremony chamber, gasping for breath. The paralysis had released me, though my hands remained fixed to the crystal sphere, which had now darkened to a deep cobalt blue.

Across from me, Saint Icarus looked even more diminished, as if the transfer of the miniature sun had drained what little vitality remained in his ancient frame.

"What did you see?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

The elders had stopped their chanting, all eyes fixed on me. I swallowed, my throat raw as if I'd been screaming, though I hadn't uttered a sound during the visions.

"I saw..." I hesitated, knowing that what I said next would shape their expectations of me. "I saw the way to stop the red sun's madness and save the world."

A murmur ran through the assembled elders, excitement mingled with awe. Only Icarus's reaction differed, a sad smile that contained too much knowledge, too much pain.

Did he know the truth about the Blue Sun?

Had he been trying to warn me all along?

"Then the Blue Sun has chosen wisely," he said. His voice had grown even fainter, and I noticed that his edges seemed to be... dissolving. His fingertips, still touching the crystal sphere, had become translucent.

"What's happening to you?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.

"The transfer is complete," Icarus replied, his sad smile never wavering. "My purpose is fulfilled. I return to the light."

The disintegration accelerated rapidly. His hands dissolved completely, followed by his arms. The process moved inward, consuming his torso, his neck, finally his face. His expression remained peaceful throughout, even as his features blurred into luminescence.

In less than a minute, where Saint Icarus had stood was now only a small pile of blue ash on the crystal floor.

Elder Sorrin stepped forward, a ceremonial urn in his hands. He gathered the ashes, ensuring not a single particle remained on the ground.

"The vessel returns to light," he intoned formally. "The essence endures in the new Saint."

He sealed the urn and handed it to Elder Mirel, who cradled it with respect.

"This will be placed in the Catacombs of Saints," she explained, noticing my questioning look. "To rest alongside all who have borne this sacred burden before you."

The other elders approached, their expressions a mixture of reverence and cautious assessment. I stood motionless, still processing what had happened, what I had seen, what I had become.

"The visions you received," Elder Sorrin prompted. "They spoke of defeating the red sun's corruption?"

I nodded, not trusting myself to elaborate without revealing my suspicions. The visions had been far too convenient, too aligned with what a new Saint might want or need to believe.

It was propaganda, pure and simple, carefully crafted scenes designed to establish a particular narrative.

"The Blue Sun gifted me with... clarity," I said cautiously. "About the past and a possible future."

This vague response seemed to satisfy them. Several nodded sagely, as if my obscure answer confirmed their expectations of how a newly ascended Saint should speak.

But inwardly, my thoughts churned with suspicion.

The blue sun clearly wasn't omniscient. It didn't know that "Tomas of Porvale" was actually Ke Yin. It didn't know that I was a Skybound practitioner. It believed I held a grudge against the red sun for the massacre of Tomas's village, and it was playing on that perceived trauma to manipulate me toward its goals.

Which raised the question: what were those goals, really? And how much of what I'd been shown was truth, how much distortion, and how much outright fabrication?

"Master," Azure's voice cut through my spiraling thoughts, his tone urgent. "Something is wrong."

"What is it?" I replied silently, maintaining my outward expression of serene contemplation.

"Something has entered your inner world," Azure warned. "I don't know how, but the b—"

Before Azure could finish, a wave of dizziness crashed over me. The chamber spun, the elders' faces blurring into indistinct smears of color. I tried to speak, to tell them something was wrong, but my tongue felt swollen in my mouth, unresponsive.

Through eyes rapidly losing focus, I saw the elders rushing toward me, alarm replacing their previous reverence. Elder Mirel's mouth moved, she was shouting something, but I couldn't hear her over the roaring in my ears.

My legs folded beneath me. I was falling, unable to catch myself, my body no longer responding to my desperate commands.

I felt gentle hands catching me before I hit the ground. Elder Mirel cradled my head in her lap, her concerned face hovering above mine, lips still moving in words I couldn't hear.

Then darkness claimed me, and I found myself in my inner world.