Cultivating Talents [LitRPG Mana-cultivation]

Mirae stumbled forward, her sandals crunching onto the grey-scaled grass. The scent of nothing wormed its way up her nose as all around her grey-scaled trees shifted in a silent wind. She was in a vision. Her Talent had activated.

Please don't let someone die again. I don't need to lose anyone else. I can't lose anyone else.

A small creature jumped out of the bush that rustled a few feet away from her. The creature's long ears sagged at its sides as its horn glinted in the sun. What was it? A bunny would be a fitting description, but bunnies didn't have horns, at least not the ones she'd seen at the edge of the quarter, where Sirius met the Hay quarter.

She frowned, stepping away from the creature; while nothing in these visions could harm her, she could never be too careful.

Walking farther in, Mirae stepped over the tree roots and followed the sensation calling to her. It was the only approach when these visions manifested. On one hand, it was as if she could go anywhere, but on the other, the Talent restricted her. If she went in a different direction from the sensation, the dream would collapse.

Sighing, Mirae took in the surrounding sights. The trees rustled, and birds tweeted, and the forest burst with life. Where was this place? She'd seen nothing like this in the slums. Was it outside the city, perhaps?

But that can't be right. What would we even do outside the city? Hector and I have never left before.

She bit her lip, pushing her way through a thick bush and staggering out on the other side. She combed a hand through her hair. Nothing came away. The dream was a dream, after all, and nothing could hurt her.

Wetting her lips, she scanned the air, but paused. Up ahead, a tower loomed, taller than any she'd ever seen before. The bricks, even in this grey-scaled version, seemed clean, almost too clean. "By the Great Lake," she muttered, stepping forward.

Thunder cracked overhead, and her eyes shot up. In the distance, a clump of dark grey clouds lazed overhead, the air growing moist with their approach. The clouds were far from natural; other than that clump, the rest of the sky was clear.

This is definitely not Middlec, but then, where is this?

Her gaze rested on the door at the base of the tower. There, the sensation was strongest. Mirae crunched across the grass, taking in the area as she moved. Why was she alone? Where was Hector? He and her father had often been the focus of her visions, but this time, her brother was nowhere to be—

A figure stumbled out of the bushes up ahead. Staggering one foot over the other, they collapsed to the ground with a thud. Mirae paused, frowning at the yellow light that emanated from the girl. Twin braids, a fringe, a white tunic—scuffed as it was. "Emela?" Mirae muttered.

The blonde-haired girl—her shape tinged in yellow—turned, looking back at the bush she'd just stumbled out of. And a moment later, a man stepped out. The bush shook as he moved through it, a sneer hanging on his lips as he glanced down at the girl.

Long white hair draped down his back as he stood. His eyes moved over the area, briefly resting on the tower before moving back to Emela. On his chest, an insignia sat. It wasn't familiar to Mirae, but it radiated importance.

Who is that man, and how is he related to Emela? He looks like a noble, but what would a noble even want with Emela?

Mirae stepped closer. Grass crunched beneath her feet as her heartbeat picked up. The man dropped to a knee, and behind him, two more people stepped out. One was a short girl, wearing a scowl, and the other was a finely dressed boy. A pained and conflicted look sat on the finely dressed boy's face.

Who are these people? They kind of look like Emela… are they perhaps her siblings? But then, wouldn't that mean...

The long-haired man raised a hand and cracked it across Emela's cheek. The girl's head whipped to the side, and she collapsed onto the ground, her face slamming into the grass. Mirae's heart jumped, her eyes going wide.

Why was her Talent showing her this? Why was it showing her Emela?

—- —- —- —-

A warm flow washed over Hector, flowing through him in small waves, sending a soft rhythm through his body. His eyes flickered open. Above, lines of colour blurred across the sky. White and green. His Talents. He was in his soulscape.

Hector sat up, memories slipping by like water through his fingers. What was the last thing that had happened? The Earthen Mole. Emela. Wetting his lips, Hector glanced up at the tree looming above him, its purple leaves shifting subtly in the absent wind of the void.

"How long have I been out?" he muttered, reaching into his mind and pulling on the system. "System, how are the Talent trees coming along?" Even if it just showed him how long they had left, it was still enough to work out how long he'd been unconscious.

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///: All Talents have missed the watering times. All Talent saplings have failed. Please replant when you have the time.
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Hector's mouth fell open, his eyes going wide. All the Talent saplings he'd planted had died. Did he really get knocked out for that long? Water rippled at his legs as he raised his hand. His gaze drifted around the soulscape, moving to a moon that hung in the void's sky.

Grunting, Hector got to his feet, droplets of water pouring off him. The waters of the soulscape couldn't get him wet after all.

I need to go to the Talent Garden and replant. Or should I check on the others first? No, I should definitely check on the others first.

Searching for the rhythm that would lead him to the outside world, Hector paused. There was nothing. There was no path to follow, no route to take. It was as if the world beyond didn't exist. But that was impossible unless—

A low hum filled the void emanating from the tree in front of him. It bristled against his skin, thrumming with energy. The tree was talking to him.

Was that even possible? Trees couldn't talk? Could they? Hector stepped closer, his feet splashing through the water. His fists clenched and unclenched as his eyes ran over its brown, almost crystal-like wood. The tree wouldn't hurt him. It was already part of his soul and seemed to be something—at least from what his mother implied—that his family needed.

Hector came to a stop before the tree, pressing a hand against its bark. Jagged yet smooth, the tree delighted the touch. If this were the outside world, it'd probably be worth a lot, and given the function it served him, it certainly was.

A deep whirring shook his bones as the tree vibrated. Hector sighed. His mind pushed out to the tree, trying to connect with it, but all he got was the deep whirring. It rose and fell, oscillating in a steady rhythm. Though underneath it, a soft sense of concern bubbled. Was the tree worried about him?

"Are you what's keeping me here?" Hector asked.

A low and steady hum replied. It wasn't a yes, and it wasn't a no, though a pulse of emotion still radiated through. It surged through his fingertips and travelled down his arm, pulsing through his body. A feeling of care.

"I need to go. My sister is waiting for me. My friends are waiting for me." Hector leaned forward, resting his forehead against the tree's bark. A cool, refreshing sensation spread from his head down his body, and a moment later, a pulse followed. Acceptance, warmth.

Inside him, a rhythm thrummed. It pulled at his senses, dragging him in, tugging him forward. The sensation was more powerful than he'd ever experienced before. Normally, he'd search, but this time there was a simple path, a simple road.

"Thank you," Hector muttered, stepping back. Reaching within, he followed the rhythm, letting it guide him, letting it pull him. A moment later, his eyes flickered open. The canopy of the tent loomed above him, mana stones wrapped with string dangling from it. He'd returned.

Relaxation seeped into every corner of his body; it was as if he'd left a spa. Raising a hand, Hector pressed against his chest. The skin was bandaged, and there was none of the pain he'd expected as he dabbed at it. Not even the bumps that would form after a scar. Mirae must have been using the soup.

He shifted. Towards the back of the tent, his sister sat, her legs crossed, hands resting on her knees. A soft smile came to his lips. Even while he was unconscious, she hadn't been slacking off. At his side lay an empty bedroll. Someone had recently used it, as its position, the folded cloth and crumpled corners showed. Hector's mind flicked to Jodie. Was she alright? Where—

The curtains of the tent parted as a hand pushed through, peeling them back. Jodie stepped into the tent, her eyes moving from Mirae to Hector. "Ah, you're finally awake," Jodie said, sighing.

Mirae's eyes flickered open, brightening as they landed on Hector. "I'm glad you're alright, brother. How are your wounds? Does it hurt anywhere?"

A grunt slipped past Hector's lips as he shifted on the bedroll. "I've actually never felt better. If anything, I'd dare say my cultivation has improved." Hector smiled as the tingle of relaxation left his body.

"How could your cultivation improve while you're knocked out?" Jodie asked, frowning. She stepped further into the tent, moving over to the bedroll next to him and plopping down. Her eyes scanned over Hector, snagging briefly on the edge of the tattoo that peeked out over his bandages. "It's not like people can cultivate in their sleep. My father would be a lot stronger if we could; he's always sleeping."

A glance passed between Mirae and Hector, neither of them responding. They had yet to tell their friends about their apparent heritage. Even if they did, they weren't fully sure of who they were, either.

In many ways, this is less of a secret when compared to the Talents. But that's only if no one knows who my family is. And if no one knew, why would my father and mother be so secretive about everything, going so far as to build an underground basement?

Nothing made sense. But keeping it from his friends wouldn't help much, either. He'd tell them, but what exactly?

Jodie shifted on the bedroll, the fabric crumpling as she moved. "By the way, Hector, I didn't know you had a tattoo. When did you get one of those? I can't imagine your dad was too pleased to see you having that."

A raspy chuckle passed through Hector's lips. Jodie didn't know how right she was, though not for the reason she thought. His father had wanted to keep this from them for some reason, perhaps until they were ready. Hector shifted on the bedroll, glancing towards Mirae. "How are you doing, Mirae? Also, how long was I out for?"

Mirae's eyes shifted to Jodie, raising a brow. A look of contemplation slipped onto his sister's face. "I'm fine. And if I had to guess, you were out for about four days. Jodie woke up a couple of days ago."

"I wasn't as bad as you," Jodie said. She shifted her eyes, lingering on the tattoo.

He could cover it, but that would just draw more attention to it than anything. But now that Jodie had seen it, that attention would come either way.

The ginger-haired girl glanced towards the tent exit, eyes following something unknown. "You didn't secretly join a gang, did you, Hector? Is that why your family owed the Collar—"

"Jodie," Hector snapped. She was poking and poking, hoping to get an answer. Even she knew he'd never join a gang, or at least she should. Bringing a hand to his forehead, Hector sighed heavily. "It's a family thing, Mirae, and I discovered recently; something to do with our mother. We aren't too sure about the rest."

Jodie glanced at him, her blue eyes meeting his. She scratched at the side of her cheek, a blush of red blooming across her skin. "Sorry, I didn't…"

Hector shook his head.

"So what exactly did you discover?" she asked.

Hector frowned; all the relaxation he'd once had left him. She wasn't letting this go until she'd learned the ins and outs. Had his keeping secrets in the past shaken her that badly? Nodding, Hector beckoned Mirae over. "I can tell you, but we really aren't too sure about the details."

Jodie leaned in closer.

"Alright." A sense of resolve bubbled in Hector's chest. To be safe, he'd probably have to put a pact on it. "I'm going to need something from you, though," he said.