Cultivation is Creation
Chapter 273: Lesson 1 - Flower

I considered for a moment. "Something simple to start with. Perhaps a flower?"

"An excellent choice," Kal approved. "Natural forms are often easiest for beginners, and flowers have relatively simple structures compared to animals."

He selected his own brush and scroll, positioning himself so I could observe his technique. "Watch first, then try yourself."

For a second, Kal’s brush danced across the paper and then he was done.

On the paper, there was a perfect lotus, rendered with minimal lines that somehow captured the essence of the flower more completely than a detailed illustration might have.

"Your turn," he said, setting his brush down. "Don't worry about matching my speed or precision. Focus instead on your connection to the brush and the energy flowing through it."

I dipped my brush in the ink, trying to mimic the way Kal had held his. The first stroke I made was too heavy, leaving an ungainly blot on the paper. I frowned, disappointed in my lack of control.

"It's alright," Kal said encouragingly. "Try again, but this time, imagine the blue sun's energy flowing down your arm, through your fingers, into the brush, and finally onto the paper. Let the energy guide your movement."

I took a deep breath and tried to visualize as he suggested. The second attempt was better, still nowhere near Kal's masterful execution, but at least recognizable as the beginning of a flower.

Stroke by stroke, I worked on my simple flower. What took Kal seconds required nearly ten minutes of concentrated effort on my part, and the result was still rudimentary compared to his perfect lotus. My flower had uneven petals and a slightly crooked stem, but it was at least identifiable as the intended subject.

"Now," Kal said once I had finished, "we infuse it with blue sun energy to give it form."

He demonstrated with his own painting, placing his palm just above the paper and channeling a gentle stream of blue light into the ink.

The lotus seemed to absorb the energy, beginning to glow softly before lifting off the page entirely. It hovered above the scroll, a perfect three-dimensional replica of the painted image, now constructed entirely of solidified blue light.

Kal plucked it from the air and held it out to me. It looked completely real, I could see the delicate veining in the petals, the subtle gradations of color, even a few drops of morning dew clinging to its surface.

"Your turn," he said, allowing his lotus to dissolve back into motes of light. "Channel your energy slowly and steadily. Visualize the flower rising from the page, becoming solid."

I placed my hand over my awkward painting and focused on channeling blue sun energy into it. I could feel the ink beginning to respond, absorbing the energy I provided, but the process felt sluggish compared to Kal's effortless demonstration.

Gradually, my painted flower began to glow and then, with what felt like considerable resistance, lifted from the page.

Unlike Kal's perfect lotus, my creation was clearly a beginner's work, the petals were unevenly formed, the colors slightly muddy, and the entire structure wavered uncertainly in the air.

I managed to hold it together long enough to reach out and touch it, feeling its semi-solid surface against my fingertips for a brief moment before it shuddered and collapsed back into ink, leaving a faint blue residue on my hand.

"A good first attempt," Kal said, and there seemed to be genuine encouragement in his voice. "Much better than most achieve on their initial try. Your connection to the blue sun is indeed remarkable."

"It barely held together," I said, examining the residue on my fingers.

"Yet it manifested at all," Kal countered. "Many novices require weeks of practice before their paintings will rise from the page, even momentarily. You've shown an innate talent that supports what the Selection revealed about your resonance."

I wiped the residue away, oddly pleased by the small achievement despite knowing it was relatively insignificant in the grand scheme of my situation.

"The key to improvement is repetition," Kal said, setting a fresh scroll before me. "Let's try again, this time with a slightly different approach."

***

The next few hours passed in a cycle of instruction, practice, and refinement.

Kal was a surprisingly patient teacher, demonstrating techniques multiple times when necessary and offering specific corrections rather than vague criticism.

By the end of the session, I had produced a dozen flowers of increasing quality, the last of which actually maintained its form for nearly a minute before dissolving.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"Excellent progress," Kal said as I completed my final attempt. "You're advancing more quickly than I anticipated, though given your unprecedented resonance with the blue sun, perhaps I shouldn't be surprised."

He gathered the used scrolls, setting them aside in a neat stack. "We'll start on creating other simple life forms tomorrow, who knows, maybe even a small animal."

"Thank you for your guidance," I said, flexing my fingers to relieve the stiffness from holding the brush for so long. "I still have much to learn."

Kal smiled, then surprised me by reaching out to pat my shoulder in a gesture that felt almost brotherly. "You did well today, Tomas. I'm looking forward to our continued lessons."

The casual physical contact caught me off guard. It seemed genuinely affectionate rather than calculated, a moment of spontaneous approval from a teacher pleased with his student. It made me wonder again about the complexity of Kal's character.

How much of this was genuine, and how much was performance?

After countless time loops, perhaps the line between sincere emotion and strategic behavior had blurred even for Kal himself.

"Before you go," Kal said, his tone shifting subtly as he poured fresh tea into our cups, "there's something I've been curious about."

I accepted the tea, keeping my expression neutral. "Yes?"

"Your survival during the attack on your village," Kal said, studying my face carefully over the rim of his cup. "From what I understand, it was a coordinated raid led by a Rank 2 Skybound practitioner. Such attacks typically leave no survivors."

And there it was, the question I'd been expecting since we began. I took a slow sip of tea, using the moment to gather my thoughts.

"I ran," I said simply, letting a hint of shame color my voice. "At the first sign of danger, I fled into the forest behind our mill."

"Even so," Kal pressed gently, "raiders are thorough. They search for survivors, especially in the surrounding areas."

I stared into my tea, as if the memory pained me. "I didn’t look back, not even once, I just kept running." I shook my head. "It must have been luck that they didn't find me. Or perhaps they had what they wanted and didn't bother searching that far out."

Kal seemed to consider this, his expression thoughtful. "The blue sun works in strange ways," he said finally. "Perhaps it was already guiding your path, even then."

I shook my head. "It wasn't divine intervention. Just me being a coward while everyone I knew died."

Kal set his cup down and placed his hand on my shoulder again, his expression serious but kind. "Listen to me, Tomas. Against a Rank 2 Skybound practitioner, running was the only option. Fighting would have merely added your death to the others. There's no shame in surviving."

I nodded slowly, as if taking comfort in his words.

"It's getting late," Kal said, glancing at the position of the blue sun through the window. "You should return to the Apex and rest. We have much work ahead of us in the coming days."

I rose, bowing respectfully. "Thank you again for today's instruction, Kal."

***

As I walked back through the Dreamer's Garden, I took a moment to truly study the extraordinary plants that filled it.

Now that I understood more about Lightweaving, I could better appreciate the mastery these creations represented. Every leaf, every petal, every subtle movement in the breeze demonstrated Kal's profound understanding of both art and life.

The blue flowers seemed to track my movement slightly as I passed, their petals turning toward me like sentient beings rather than mere plants.

Were they watching me? Reporting back to their creator somehow?

I couldn't dismiss the possibility.

When I arrived at the Apex, I found my chambers as I'd left them: spacious, elegant, and uncomfortably grand for someone used to more modest accommodations.

Several new items had been added during my absence: a selection of painting supplies arranged on a side table, fresh robes laid out on the bed, and a tray of fruit and bread for an evening meal.

I poured myself a cup of water from a crystal pitcher and settled onto a cushion near the window.

From this vantage point, I could see much of the academy below: training grounds where students practiced forms, gardens where elders meditated, dormitories where lights were beginning to glow as evening approached.

"It's beautiful," I admitted. "In another life, I might have appreciated the opportunity to study here properly."

"Without the impending doom and manipulation, you mean?" Azure quipped.

"Exactly." I smiled ruefully. "Just another student learning to paint with light, not the alleged 'Last Saint' caught between time loopers and world-ending threats."

"Well, your first lesson with Kal was... interesting," Azure commented.

"'Interesting' is one word for it," I replied. "He's probing, testing stories, looking for inconsistencies."

"To be expected," Azure said reasonably. "Someone in his position, having lived through countless loops, would naturally be suspicious of anything that deviates from the established pattern."

I nodded absently, acknowledging the observation.

It was extremely likely he’ll pay Porvale Village a visit in the next loop to verify my story and figure out what change caused me to not only survive, but become the next Saint.

"The training itself was valuable, at least,” I started. “The principles are similar enough to other techniques I've studied that I should be able to advance relatively quickly."

"Just not too quickly," Azure cautioned. "Appearing too talented will only intensify his scrutiny."

"Balance," I agreed. "Show enough progress to seem gifted even for a Saint but not enough to seem impossible."

From what little I had gathered about the Saints before me, it seemed they lived relatively short lives, but their extreme talent allowed them to reach the higher ranks way faster than even those considered prodigies.

Which was perfect for me.

As the ‘Last Saint’ with beyond exceptional resonance, it would only make sense for me advance faster.

"Master, I do have to admit, Kal is a better teacher than I would have expected, given what we know of his ultimate goals."

"He's played this role before," I suggested, rubbing my neck to release the tension that had built during hours of focusing on detailed brushwork. "Probably in many previous loops with the other saints. The patience and skill of a good teacher becomes second nature after enough repetition."

"True," Azure agreed. "Though I wonder if there isn't some genuine pleasure he takes in the role.”

I considered this as I watched the blue sunlight fade to twilight. "Perhaps. Or maybe he's simply ensuring I develop in the way that best serves his plans. A well-trained Saint would be more useful to him than an ignorant one."

I was about to continue on that train of thought when Azure's tone suddenly changed, becoming more urgent.

"Master," he said, "you know how you said to keep an eye on the Genesis Seed to see if there were any changes after it devoured the Saint's Essence?"

I straightened, immediately alert. "Yes?"

"Well," Azure continued, his voice mixing concern with fascination, "something has happened."