Cultivating Talents [LitRPG Mana-cultivation]

Hector's gaze shifted from his hands back to the tree. It stood there, looming over him, the bright glow casting his shadow.

How was this normal? There were clearly things about his family or clan, for that matter, that were unique. Nobles didn't have this, at least not in Middlec. He couldn't say for the cities outside, but he'd never heard of anything like this.

Perhaps Emela would know.

But one thing was for sure—this tree could do much more than simply speed up his cultivation. It held knowledge that no one in Middlec had, and the sensation it gave off would give him power when he advanced.

He closed his eyes, trying to reach out with his mind. He couldn't produce the same feeling that the tree had given him. There were no words. It was more of an emotion, but even that wasn't quite right.

He couldn't find the link between himself and the tree, at least not yet. Perhaps, given time, he could communicate with it.

As his eyes flickered open and he looked past the crystal-like bark, a figure appeared there, formed of loose motes of purple light. When had it appeared? There had been no sound, no fluctuation caused by the gathering of mana; it was like it had always been there.

The figure threw a fist, mana motes fluttering off from its form before being pulled back in. It then threw another, repeating the movement in a steady rhythm. Those moves, didn't he know them?

That was Orion's Fist.

As he scrutinised the figure closer, something clicked within him, and it became intrinsically clear. A closeness that seemed almost ever-present pervaded his very being. That figure—it was Mirae.

But why was he seeing his sister?

He pursed his lips, frowning, as he looked towards the soulwaters beneath him. They slapped against his thigh and poured into his lap, flowing back into themselves.

He needed to meditate on everything that was going on. What did it all mean? He had to focus on the sensation the tree had given him. Try to understand it better. Perhaps it connected to his cultivation—but perhaps not.

Hector gulped.

The tree connected him to Mirae, boosted his cultivation speed, and offered techniques he could learn. All three things were great on their own, but together, they showed there was so much he was just stumbling into.

I need to understand this. Maybe these trees and the boon they provide are a type of special inheritance a Jacaranda must learn to control. Perhaps it can show me a way to figure out who I am, what I am. Perhaps explain how I even made it to this world.

With a breath, Hector craned his neck towards the void. The Talents streaked under the moon that hung in the sky, their tails of colour leaving beautiful arcs. Talents and Inheritance. Perhaps his mother was right; perhaps he could take over this world.

A moment later, a voice boomed through, shaking the space.

"Hector, come on, it's time to get a move on. The campfire is low." Jodie's voice echoed through the void.

Hector frowned. "How's the… Ah." He paused. Of course.

The soulscape was never one to follow time rigidly.

His gaze shifted back to the tree. Its purple leaves shifted in the windless void as its bark continued to fill the void with light.

This was something he'd have to explore. Something he'd have to learn about. Who were the Jacarandas?

The trial realm perhaps held answers—at least, that's what the old man had said. He had no reason to lie to them. After all, it's not like they had anything he wanted. But then again, people didn't just go around giving people opportunities for no reason.

Flopping his hands down to his side, the soulwaters splashed up, and Hector reached for the feeling inside of him, letting it draw him back to reality.

—- —- —- —-

Several hours later.

Hector eyed Emela. The blonde-haired girl gave him a nervous smile before glancing at Nyx. They had agreed to tell the rest of the group today. It would be best if they found out before entering the Trial Realm. Seeing Emela with her family would be harder to explain at that point.

Hector held his hands in front of him, massaging his thumb into the palm of his hand. They stood at the edge of the [Gentle Sanctuary] dome—the three of them—while the rest of the group sat around the fire, chatting amongst themselves.

Hector glanced back at Emela. "Do you know what you're going to say?" he asked, his voice low. Part of him wished he could advise her, give her the words that would best suit the situation. But then… did he really know what words would work?

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Emela shook her head, her fringe flapping as she moved. She brought a hand to her breeches, her fingers fiddling with a pocket. A breath passed through her lips a moment later, and she nodded.

"While I don't know exactly how it's going to come out, I have the gist of things."

"Do you have any advice you want to give her, Nyx?" Hector asked, turning to the black-haired girl.

Raising a hand and brushing loose strands of hair from her bob back, Nyx almost shrugged. Her arms tensed a little, but she lowered them and shook her head. It seemed as if she were going to say something, but in the end, silence filled the space.

"Well, I guess I should get on with it," Emela said, turning towards the group. She walked forward, heading towards the centre of the hideout, Hector and Nyx following behind.

I hope they take this well. While I think Jodie may have some reservations, and I'm not exactly sure how Lincoln will react, I feel everyone else should have some sympathy for her.

Hector's eyes moved to his sister. The young girl had broken through to Gravity Forging-One the day before, and even now, the confidence from the breakthrough filled her. There was a slight arrogance in her smile, even as she talked to Pippa. Mirae rested a hand on the freckled girl's shoulder, casually illustrating with her other hand the feats that she hoped to complete one day.

She would likely accomplish most of them. With her Gravity Forging-One strength, she now had enough ability to take on the Hairless Rats in the cave—though if Hector was honest, he'd rather she didn't.

"Excuse me, everyone," Emela said, coming to a stop just before the campfire pit.

They all turned to her, many of them seeming to sense the seriousness in her voice. Jodie leaned forward, Lincoln frowned, and Marcus and Delworth shared a confused look.

"I have something I want to share with you all," Emela said, her voice cracking a little.

She brought her hands before her, her fingers fiddling with each other. "I don't know how to say it, really, without just saying it, so here it goes."

She glanced back at Hector and then at Nyx. They both gave her a nod, and Emela's eyes steeled, a resolve forming in them. She turned back to the group. "I am a noble. My full name is Emela Frostkeep."

The reaction was instantaneous.

Faces soured, confusion colouring some, a sense of dismay covering others, while visible betrayal especially lingered on Jodie's face. She said nothing, but one could feel the loss and hurt in the way she slackened. Her eyes fell to the stone, and she adjusted herself on the wooden stump before her gaze moved from the ground to the campfire.

"I knew it!" Lincoln yelled, jumping up from his tree stump. His gaze snapped to Hector and then shifted around the group. "I knew she was a noble. She's been keeping this from us the entire time, and I had a hunch. I knew it, guys. I would have told you, but you'd have called me crazy."

"Oh, shut it, Lincoln," Jodie snapped. She swiped her thumb across her nose, shaking her head.

"You knew nothing," Marcus said, his voice a little weaker. "How could you?"

Hector raised a brow. He agreed. None of them knew Emela's secret—well, aside from Mirae—but she'd seen a vision, and that was hardly something predictable. For Lincoln to claim he knew Emela's secret of being a noble was quite bold.

"I did," Lincoln said. His brow dropped, and he slumped back onto the stump, fixing his gaze on Emela. "I wonder what else she's hiding."

"You're one to talk," Emela snapped at him, her blue eyes narrowed, her palms clenching a little.

Lincoln shrugged, lowering his gaze to the floor. "I'm just saying."

The group fell silent for a moment. After a breath, Marcus spoke up.

"What I don't understand is why? Surely, as a noble, you'd prefer to be in an environment you're more accustomed to?" he asked, combing back a strand of brown hair from his eye. He straightened his blazer, confidence building in him a little. "I mean, nobles rarely like slum dwellers, and slum dwellers don't like nobles. Why? Why do you even… I just. I don't get it. What are you doing here?"

Emela started to speak, but the words didn't leave her mouth. She fell silent for a minute, turning back to Hector briefly. A soft smile came to his lips. In a way, it was because of him that she even stayed in the slums. She'd initially been looking for her grandfather's ring, and they'd become friends from that moment.

"I found something in the slums. Something I didn't have," Emela said. "Something I didn't have back home. Friends."

"Really?" Jodie said. "That's it? You live in a fancy castle, with fancy friends, with fancy family members, and you find some slum rats and think, Oh, these guys are nice, let me be friends with them? Is it—was it some kind of game for you initially?"

"No, I'm being honest. It was never a game. This… It's how I feel."

"Jodie," Hector said. He shook his head, tamping his hand down, signalling for her to have some compassion. "She didn't mean to lie to us. I can understand her, surely as much as everyone else here can. We know what slum dwellers think of nobles. She could never come out as one. And to be honest, would we really have accepted her if she did?"

That sent a wave of quiet through the group.

"One thing I don't get," Mirae said, speaking up. "What does this change? I mean, are you any different now that you've revealed that you're a noble to us?"

Emela shook her head. She reached her hand up and combed a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "I'm the same as I've always been."

Mirae nodded, a smile spreading across her lips. She glanced at Pippa. "Well, I don't see any reason for this to become an issue. Does anyone else?"

The group turned to her before looking at each other, an understanding seeming to be conveyed between them. Emela's identity—while a noble one—didn't really change the fact that they were all friends and shared a common goal.

Jodie let out a breath. The ginger-haired girl then turned to Emela, raised a hand, and scratched her eyebrow. "I get it, to be honest. The slums aren't exactly a place a noble can come and just... be. That's gonna cause some problems."

She pinched her nose, massaging it a little, and her hand dropped to her side.

"I just wish I'd known, you know? I feel lied to, and I hate being lied to, Emela. But I get it. And even though it's late, I guess—thanks for sharing."

Emela cringed a little, her eyes squinting, a frown spreading across her lips.

"I didn't want to lie to you, Jodie. You've got to believe me. And if I could have told you sooner, I would have. I was just scared."

Jodie nodded, then gestured towards Nyx. "And her. She's some maid or something?"

Hector chuckled, and Jodie glanced at him. He shrugged. To think Jodie had gotten closer with her guess than he had. Was he the only one who thought Nyx could be a noble?

Emela nodded. "Yes, she's my personal maid."

"That explains a few things," Jodie said. She glanced to the side.

"All right then." Hector stepped forward, and everyone's attention focused on him. "Now that that's over with, we can begin preparing for tomorrow. As we all know, the doors are opening, and I want us prepared and rested. We don't know what awaits us in there, and it's pretty clear we won't be the only ones."

"So, Marcus." His blazer-wearing friend perked up, a steely look of determination coming to his eyes.

Hector smiled, levelling a gaze at the boy. "Did you get the explosives?"