Elder Cultivator

The instincts of a cultivator weren’t always right. Just like anyone else, sometimes they did incredibly illogical things when under great emotional stress. Whether it worked out for them or not was an entirely different matter.

Prospero didn’t think. In front of him, the only remains of his closest family were a few scraps of rapidly fading energy. No functional traces of a body, not anymore. That had been gone in mere moments, along with the rest of Hoyt’s energy. Except for some trace of Domination energy he’d managed to spark inside his potential anchor.

Prospero wanted to destroy it, for killing Hoyt. He wanted to preserve what remained, to hold onto the memory. Both instincts interacted with him at the same time. His own power reached out for it, drawing upon the fire of the One Hundred Stars. He threw it towards the empty planet he’d been watching from. That was where they had shared their last moment- the final time Prospero could have taken control and changed events.

Or perhaps it was already too late. But perhaps if the planet itself were destroyed, nobody else would make the same mistake. These thoughts passed through his head as if they somehow made sense.

But of course, they didn’t. Nothing made sense. He had no comforts to take from his own reincarnation- retaining any memories had been wondrously fortunate, without a specific cultivation method designed for it. Prospero Vandale’s death hadn’t been so energetic, however. Even if Domination energy didn’t primarily affect the soul, it was powerful enough to destroy one.

If any scrap of Hoyt remained, it wouldn’t be recognizable. Nothing, except for one tiny spark of power in a lone asteroid. He sought to amplify it. Destroy it. Preserve and erase it.

When the asteroid hit the planet’s atmosphere, it would become a meteor. A falling star. Especially at the speeds Prospero was accelerating it to, it would burn up all the material that remained. Or perhaps, with it going fast enough, it would impact the planet- the force could rip both to shreds. That would be acceptable as well.

He fought himself, his own energy struggling with his conflicting goals. Flames erupted in the atmosphere as the falling star began its descent. It wouldn’t take long, to reach its ultimate result.

Prospero wanted none of it to remain. He wanted it to exist forever, a last memory of Hoyt. Inside of him, energy grew ever more concentrated. His body ached. Some part of him knew that he could die too.

The spark of energy had almost faded. He amplified it. Ten, a hundred, a thousandfold. The system had moments before been rocked by a detonation of Domination energy. Could it withstand another?

It didn’t matter. Prospero wouldn’t exist to perceive it anyway.

Another flash, his eyes not fully recovered from the blinding passing of Hoyt’s death. This time, he did not have to feel the energy of a soul he loved fade away. It would consume him.

Prospero felt it, deep inside of him. The pain of drawing upon too much power. Of failure. Neither hurt as much as the pain in his heart. He’d devoted his first life to his sect. His second life went to the family he had neglected. What else was left for him?

The pain stretched out into infinity. Was this what it had been like for Hoyt? Endless suffering, as his awareness extended beyond all sane limits. A body should not be able to withstand so much. He should have already faded from consciousness, perhaps forever. He knew this, as he had died once before.

He let out a heaving breath as his body forced him to let go. However, as a cultivator his control of his own body- conscious or not- was far greater than others. Ribs snapped under his tension before he let go.

All of this- including the sudden but trivial pain of bones breaking- brought Prospero’s attention to the scene in front of him. His chest heaved painfully in and out. Time was stopped in front of his eyes. A meteor, moving with such force that the cone of flame it built up around it filled a significant chunk of the planet’s atmosphere. Yet, it never impacted.

Prospero’s heart was beating. It might beat over a hundred times per minute when agitated, but even if it beat a hundred times per second there could not be so many beats of his heart before the impact.

He shifted, a strand of hair dangling in front of his face, affected by the slightest bit of gravity. Was he somehow subconsciously adjusting the temporal acceleration of his own hair?

An absurd thought, but rational ideas had long since fled his mind. They were only just then starting to slowly filter back into him as his logical part reignited. He felt it, still. The struggle inside of him as he held two contradictory ideas in concert.

Time passed, with the meteor hanging in the air in front of him, brimming with Domination energy. The same was true of himself, inside.

He was so full of power, yet he felt empty.

As he came to full realization of what had happened, he still had thoughts to act immediately and recklessly. It didn’t matter to him what he had accomplished. He would have gladly given it up to bring back Hoyt.

Alternatively, he would have given up his life to punish the ones who drove him to this point. Yet there was no one to blame. Not any specific individual. The pressures of the Scarlet Alliance were certainly quite strong, but Hoyt had wanted this. Their foes… no Domination cultivator had slain Hoyt.

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None except for perhaps Prospero and his own cowardice. He should have been the one to take the first risk. He should have done… something.

But he hadn’t. Maybe he could have, but the time was gone. So he was left with nothing but an eternal reminder of what he wanted to forget. Or perhaps… it was not frozen in time after all. 𝔯ἈＮỔ𝐛ĚⱾ@@novelbin@@

Prospero had the feeling that any moment, the meteor could come crashing down, pitting itself against the planet below. Neither would be recognizable afterwards.

Some cultivators sought immortality. Perhaps not even Domination cultivators were able to reach eternity, but in some way that thought was comforting for Prospero in particular. Whether or not he should

He had a friend who would probably be glad to hear it… and Prospero didn’t necessarily find himself disagreeing. Now if only he could go visit without causing a fuss.

Some tiny portion of Prospero thought that maybe nobody would notice anything. As if Hoyt’s announcement that he was trying for Domination wasn’t of note, or him returning alone. As if somehow he could hide what he had become.

There was nothing wrong with it, of course. Nothing at all, except for all of it.

-----

He didn’t want to hide it… but he didn’t want to speak about anything. Where could he go? Should he flee the territory of the Scarlet Alliance? Enough of Prospero’s rational thought had returned to conclude that wouldn’t produce optimal results.

Despite his flailing during a time of crisis, he did care about the Scarlet Alliance. Perhaps less than other things, but nobody cared about nebulous masses of people more than specific individuals. It was just not the way humanity functioned.

They needed to know what happened. They needed to see another Domination cultivator, to assuage their fears. Or did they? The rapid rise to power of the Alliance was what had brought them under the scrutiny of their foes- a contradictory need, as they could not have survived events without their growth.

Prospero cut past occupied systems. He might still have been noticed, at a distance, but he kept his power restrained. His movements slow. Somehow, he thought that would have been enough… but this was not the old world.

Messages arrived for him, even in the depths of subspace. Random individuals could not simply contact him. He had to look.

The one that was easiest to read was from Timothy. He was a straightforward young fellow- which was to say he was essentially the same age as Prospero himself, now. Even if there hadn’t been that whole temporary death thing.

“If you receive this message, please respond. We haven’t been able to get in contact.”

Was it supreme foresight or simply luck that omitted any mention of a name? Even if he knew it in his heart, seeing it would have somehow broken him. Responding was difficult, even if he sent barely two words. “I remain.”

A handful of blissful hours flying through nothingness, weaving his way among the stars. From within subspace they were more imagined than real, but he always liked watching the stars.

He didn’t bother with any of the other messages. Timothy did message him once more, however. “Meet with me.”

As if they could just do that. Find each other anywhere. Except, Prospero realized they could, to some extent. Timothy’s presence was available in every system that carried one of the solar platforms, intertwined with Catarina’s own energy.

Prospero didn’t respond… but he did stop and linger several systems away from Xankeshan. He’d never just sat in subspace. It was a place to be traversed. Timothy reached him over a week later, which confirmed to Prospero that his passage hadn’t gone entirely unnoticed.

“Does everyone know?” Prospero asked as Timothy closed the distance between them.

Timothy shook his head, stopping at a comfortable conversational distance. “Until this moment, even I was uncertain. Catarina suspects. Maybe others, but I don’t think they would have truly felt you. Just two bursts of Domination energy measured from the system.”

Prospero didn’t want to look at the former disciple of his sect- now a fellow elder. So he didn’t. Timothy seemed to understand regardless. He let him take his time. He took a few deep breaths- his ribs were on the mend, as any cultivator could accomplish the same with a constant flow of energy. He could have been faster, but he didn’t trust his understanding of Domination energy just yet.

“The people need to be told something. Do you want to influence the narrative?”

“What, precisely, do you need?”

Timothy pondered for a few moments. “Nothing more, now that I am here. The results are obvious enough. In the future, details would be appreciated. What do you need?”

“I need to get to the lower realms, somehow,” Prospero said. Obviously he knew how. But whether he would be permitted to go…

“Done,” Timothy said. “If you wish to meet with Catarina, she can help smooth your journey, I imagine. The council will know about you, but they can hardly demand anything from you with your current status. I’ll tell them enough. Perhaps it may even be optimal if you are kept secret long term.”

-----

Catarina’s contributions were formations that kept his energy signature minimized. “It’s not going to be particularly comfortable,” she explained. “You can’t exactly travel by yourself with these restrictions. Nor can we assume you wouldn’t be recognized.”

He was placed in a box. Or a coffin. He’d be special cargo for transport to the lower realms. It was going to be a long trip, especially once they got to the border. Then again, it always would have been.

He did want to rush to the border himself to reach Anton just a little bit faster. Of course, that would ruin the whole point of what they were doing now… and perhaps he needed the extra weeks to think about what he really wanted. He didn’t wish to unnecessarily burden his friend, and more than that he didn’t even know what his burdens were.

It was a bit selfish to complain about being alive and more powerful… but that was exactly what his heart told him now. Perhaps he’d sort that out before he arrived. Or perhaps it would take him a century to come to terms with his current state, if ever. If only things had been simple, and Hoyt had been the one to succeed first- even if Prospero never followed.