Chương 275: Spiritual Flowers?

When I woke up the next morning, I lay still for a moment, watching the light shift and dance as I gathered my thoughts about yesterday's events.

"Good morning, Master," Azure greeted me.

"You slept well?"

"As well as can be expected," I replied mentally, moving to the washing basin. The water was cool against my skin, helping to chase away the last vestiges of sleep.

"Any changes with the Genesis Seed?"

"None since the vision," Azure confirmed.

"It'll likely only act up when receiving a vision." I nodded absently, the Genesis Seed suffering what looked like indigestion was preferable to me having a seizure. A soft knock at the door interrupted my thoughts.

"Most Honored Saint?" called a voice I recognized as Novice Kon's.

"The elders have arrived to see you. Shall I tell them you're receiving visitors?" The elders? This early? I hastily slipped into the formal blue robes laid out for me the night before.

"Just a moment," I called, checking my appearance in a polished silver mirror. I looked presentable enough, the robes were designed to look impressive regardless of how they were worn.

"Send them in." I positioned myself near the window, trying to appear contemplatively gazing out at the academy grounds rather than caught off-guard by their early visit. The door opened to admit four elders, including Elder Sorrin and Elder Mirel whom I recognized from the Selection.

"Most Honored Saint," Elder Sorrin greeted me with a deep bow, the others following suit.

"We hope we're not disturbing your morning meditations."

"Not at all," I lied smoothly, turning from the window with what I hoped was a serene smile.

"I welcome your guidance as I adjust to my new role." Elder Mirel stepped forward, her gray-streaked hair bound in an elaborate knot atop her head. Unlike the severe expression she'd worn during the Selection, her face now held a genuine warmth.

"We've come to check on your well-being," she said.

"The transition can be... overwhelming for new Saints. How are you feeling after your first lessons with Elder Kal?" So that's what this was about. They weren't just checking on me, they were checking on Kal's influence.

"I'm learning a great deal," I said carefully.

"Elder Kal is a thorough and patient teacher." The elders exchanged subtle glances at this, their expressions impossible to read. One of the elders I didn't recognize, a stout woman with braided silver hair and laugh lines around her eyes, stepped forward.

"I am Elder Neria," she introduced herself with a slight bow.

"I oversee the academy's historical archives. I must confess, many of us were surprised by Elder Kal's interest in taking you as his disciple. He's never shown such inclination in the past." I noticed the subtle emphasis on Kal's name and the flicker of something, resentment or concern, in the elders' eyes. Clearly, there was more to the "disagreement" about my tutelage than Novice Kon had revealed.

"I couldn't say why he chose me," I replied, injecting a note of humility into my voice.

"I'm merely grateful for the opportunity to learn from such an accomplished master." The fourth elder, a thin, almost skeletal man, remained silent, observing me with unblinking eyes. Elder Sorrin noticed my glance toward this fourth member and smiled slightly.

"And this is Elder Thorn. He speaks little but sees much." Elder Thorn inclined his head a fraction of an inch, the closest thing to acknowledgment I was apparently going to get from him.

"We've come not only to check on your progress," Elder Mirel continued, "but to provide more details about the ceremony that will take place after your fourth lesson with Elder Kal."

"The Ceremony of Presentation," I said, recalling what Novice Kon had mentioned.

"Precisely," Elder Sorrin nodded, looking pleased that I was aware of it.

"It is where you will be formally introduced to the entire Order, from the most senior elders to the newest initiates. All will gather to witness the new Saint and hear the wisdom of the Blue Sun spoken through you."

"The ceremony will be held in the Grand Pavilion," Elder Mirel added.

"It'll take place after your fourth lesson. You need not concern yourself with preparations, everything will be arranged." My stomach tightened. I'd never been a fan of public speaking. My speech at the Floating Reed village went pretty well, all things considering. I could only pray I get lucky again. At least the content wouldn't be difficult. I could easily string together some vague spiritual platitudes and Blue Sun propaganda. The sort of meaningless, inspirational nonsense that would satisfy them.

It was standing before all those eyes that made me uncomfortable.

"I'm honored by the Order's attention," I forced a smile.

"I only hope I can fulfill the role as the Blue Sun intends." Elder Sorrin smiled broadly at this, clearly pleased by my apparent piety.

"The Blue Sun chose wisely," he said.

"Your modesty speaks well of you, Most Honored Saint." The elders stayed for another hour, providing more details about the ceremony and my role within the Order. I listened carefully, asking questions that would mark me as eager but humble, a willing vessel for the Blue Sun's will rather than the imposter I actually was.

"Oh, and one more thing you should be aware of," Elder Sorrin had added, before they left.

"Headmaster Monroe is returning in a few days. He's most eager to meet the Last Saint."

"I look forward to meeting him as well," I had said with a smile, not at all enjoying the thought of being scrutinized by yet another Rank 8 being. When they finally left, I let out a sigh of tension that I'd been holding in. But despite the 'excitement' brought by the events of the morning, I couldn't rest, I still had a lesson that I was now almost late for. I quickly made my way to Kal's pavilion, when I arrived, I found the door already open.

Inside, Kal was arranging a series of scrolls and brushes on the central table. He looked up as I entered, a smile spreading across his face.

"Good morning, Tomas," he greeted me.

"You're right on time."

"Good morning, Kal," I replied, bowing slightly.

"I was eager to continue our lessons."

"Excellent enthusiasm," he nodded approvingly.

"Let's build on yesterday's progress, shall we? We'll start with something familiar, flowers again, but try for greater complexity and duration today." For the next several hours, we repeated the previous day's exercises but with increasing difficulty. Kal had me create various flowers: roses with intricate layered petals, orchids with delicate structures, lotus blossoms that actually opened and closed in response to light. My progress was noticeable, even to me.

Where yesterday's creations had been crude and unstable, today's manifestations held their form longer and showed finer detail. By midday, I could create a simple flower that maintained its structure for nearly two minutes before dissolving back into blue light. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

"Much better," Kal commented as my latest creation, a blue chrysanthemum with dozens of perfectly formed petals, finally faded away.

"These flowers are beautiful," I said.

"But they're still... normal flowers. When might we move on to spiritual flowers?" Kal raised an eyebrow.

"You're eager to advance. Good." He selected a fresh scroll and brush.

"Spiritual flowers are actually a Rank 2 technique. Let me demonstrate." With fluid, graceful strokes, Kal painted what appeared to be a regular lotus blossom. But when he infused it with energy, the flower that rose from the scroll glowed with internal fire. Heat radiated from its core, and tiny embers occasionally drifted from its petals, disappearing before they touched the table.

"A Fire Lotus," Kal explained.

"Spiritual flowers require infusing elemental properties into their very nature: fire, water, wind, earth, and so on. They're not merely representations of physical flowers but manifest magical properties based on their elemental affinities." I nodded with appropriate student-like interest, but inwardly, my mind was racing with possibilities. With enough practice, I could eventually create spiritual plants that would not only benefit my inner world's development but could make me incredibly wealthy.

In the Cultivation World, such spiritual herbs were worth their weight in gold, sometimes literally. And for an outer disciple like myself, constantly scrambling for resources, the ability to create valuable spiritual materials would be game-changing.

"It will be some time before you're ready for such techniques," Kal continued, letting his fire lotus dissolve.

"But your progress suggests you'll advance to that level sooner than most. Now, let's try creating something with movement. An insect, perhaps." I nodded, picking up my brush.

"What kind of insect would be easiest to begin with?"

"A butterfly," Kal suggested.

"They have relatively simple structures compared to other insects, and their movements are predictable patterns rather than the more complex behaviors of, say, ants or bees." He demonstrated first, as usual. With a few elegant strokes, a butterfly took shape on his scroll—delicate wings, a slender body, feathery antennae. When he infused it with energy, the butterfly lifted gracefully from the page, its wings moving in perfectly synchronized beats as it fluttered around the room.

"The key," Kal explained as we watched his creation explore the space, "is to think beyond form into function. You're not just creating the shape of a butterfly but the essence of 'butterfly-ness': its way of moving, its relationship to air currents, its natural behaviors." I nodded, studying the butterfly's movements carefully. After a minute or so, it returned to Kal's outstretched finger, perched there briefly, and then dissolved into motes of blue light.

"Your turn," Kal said, indicating the blank scroll before me. I took a deep breath, centered myself, and began to paint. My brushstrokes weren't as fluid as Kal's, but I focused on capturing the essential elements of the butterfly: the symmetrical wings, the proportions of body to wingspan, the delicate antennae. When I finished the painting, I placed my hand above it and channeled blue sun energy into the image.

The butterfly began to glow, lifting slightly from the page, but then shuddered, its wings trembling unnaturally before collapsing back into a flat image.

"Hmm," Kal murmured.

"Try again, but this time, focus less on the appearance and more on the movement. Close your eyes for a moment and visualize a butterfly in flight. Feel the rhythm of its wings, the way it dances on air currents." I closed my eyes, drawing on memories of butterflies I'd observed in various worlds. I recalled their seemingly random yet purposeful flights, the gentle opening and closing of their wings when resting, the way they balanced on flowers with such delicate precision.

My second attempt was better, the butterfly rose from the scroll and managed a few awkward flaps before dissolving, but still far from successful.

"Don't be discouraged," Kal said, noting my frown of frustration.

"Moving from plants to animals is a significant step. Plants respond primarily to external forces: light, water, air. Animals initiate movement based on internal drives. It's a fundamentally different type of creation." We continued practicing throughout the afternoon, with Kal occasionally demonstrating alternative approaches or suggesting adjustments to my technique.

Despite multiple attempts, however, I couldn't achieve more than a brief, stuttering animation before my butterflies collapsed back into inert paintings.

"I think that's enough for today," Kal said finally, as my latest attempt fluttered weakly for a few seconds before dissolving.

"You've made good progress, even if it doesn't feel that way. Sometimes the mind needs time to process new concepts before the breakthrough comes." I nodded, setting down my brush with a sigh.

"Thank you for your patience."

"Patience is essential for a teacher," Kal replied, his eyes studying me with that peculiar intensity again.

"Tell me, Tomas, did you have any mentors in your village? Someone who taught you skills or crafts?" The question seemed casual, but I recognized it for what it was, another probe into my background, searching for inconsistencies.

"My father taught me about the mill," I answered, sticking close to what would be expected of the real Tomas.

"How to judge the quality of grain, maintain the grinding stones, repair the water wheel. And our village had a healer who taught me a little about identifying plants."

"A healer?" Kal's interest seemed to sharpen.

"Did they use the blue sun's energy in their work?" I shook my head.

"Not directly. Just herb lore, poultices, setting bones. Nothing like what Lightweavers do."

"Interesting," Kal murmured.

"Most village healers have at least some rudimentary connection to the blue sun, even if they don't fully understand it. The most effective healing herbs are those that grow in areas with strong blue sun resonance."

"Maybe she did," I backpedaled slightly, not wanting to create a contradiction that might raise suspicion.

"If so, she never spoke of it that way. To us, it was just 'the old knowledge' passed down through generations." Kal seemed satisfied with this answer.

"Many remote villages preserve fragments of Lightweaver techniques without recognizing their origin. It's part of why we send emissaries to search for potential students in outlying regions." He began gathering the scrolls we'd used, setting them aside in neat stacks.

"That will be all for today. Rest well, and don't be discouraged. Tomorrow we'll try a different approach that might help you overcome the barrier you're experiencing."