On Cosmic Tides

Martin stood in what would one day be a rather magnificent archway, waiting. He had been in the same spot all morning, and was fast approaching annoyed territory. But since everyone they had expected to show up was already inside the City, someone had to confront the approaching cultivator.

He killed time by working with the sanctuary shard. He fed it mana and willpower, directing it to strengthen the wall that was in the process of growing, add to the rest of the defenses, and protect the City and all that was precious inside it.

The sun was nearing its peak in the sky, promising a scorching noon when the cultivator bothered to show up. She was alone, wearing a flowing robe of cerulean blue. Martin stood up straight and took stock, scanning not just the approaching adept but the rest of the countryside as well. He recognized the woman.

Her name was lost in the back of his mind somewhere, but mana signatures were more unique than faces for identification. It had been over three years, but his shameful flight from Darielle and the Order was not something he would forget. Nor the cultivators he met along the way.

Chirefi's student stopped in front of him and executed a smart bow. It was old fashioned even when Martin was young, but that's what you get when cultivation was being re-written by a handful of people known for strong opinions.

"Master Martin. It is good to see you again. I'm not sure you remember me but I am Raschell of the Caldrisiout Republic. "

He nodded. "I do. We weren't expecting anyone from your City. It has been months since we've been able to contact your master at all."

"I know. I have with me a letter that he hopes to explain. We have struggled the last few years. However the Coalition of Free Cities remains independent."

"Good news," Martin said. "We could use more of that. Come on." He turned and walked towards the City. "Best to meet everyone now before things get even more hectic."

He kept the pace slow, giving the woman beside him time to appreciate. Air cabs flew over the buildings, more stationary platforms hovering, either empty spots for cultivating or hosting defensive weapons in strategic locations. A few of the foundries puffed mana into the air along with smoke. In the distance, sea drakes and a few more obvious spirit beasts soared and dipped into the ocean. It was quite the sight if he did say so himself.

Caldrisiout was a beautiful place, but Verilia had come to embrace magic in a way that was rare, even when knowledge of cultivators was commonplace. She should know that. Whatever Cherifi had written in that letter, if he was going to fold or stand firm, Verilia would not bow down.

He angled them towards the Guest Residence. Not all the visiting cultivators were staying there, but most. With so many of his own sect members hanging around, he was sure there would be someone he could pass host duties off to, and escape to his own tasks to prepare for the tournament.

***********

Moonlight starched the world under of color, painting the many strokes of Verilian life in shades of gray instead. From her perch on top of the sect house dome, Laurel observed the rhythms of the City as it relaxed in the deep night.

Visitors were more time-consuming than she remembered. More so when some of them required as little sleep as she did.

It had taken days for her to find some time to get away. In the end, she had insisted rather rudely. Not that her friends had taken offense. Especially when she had revealed that it was an idea to strengthen Verilia's Core. Everyone on the right side of the current conflict knew how important it was.

She pulled out the second Shard of Destiny, and nestled it in her cupped hands. The first had been perfect for Martin's work on the wall. The lesson was clear. For this to work, she had to listen.

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Her consciousness stretched, from her body to the Core, and then spreading out into the local mana flows. Then further. At her limits, she could just feel the Cosmic mana, what had allowed Drivastian entry into their world, and so much more. It was nearly overwhelming.

Decorra and its wild mana had been an ocean, this was on an entirely different scale. Whole worlds could be swallowed up in even the gentlest tides, stars being born and exploding their energies back into the universal sea. Laurel could only get hints. Random images that were gone as soon as she touched on them. Cultivators calling forth a mountain range, planets being pushed and pulled into alignment. A tree, greater than any that could exist in reality, entire worlds nestled in its branches.

Her own connection was too tenuous to maintain the perspective, her cultivation to weak, and she snapped back down to Decorra, where she had plenty of her own problems to work on without dealing with the rest of the cosmos.

The moment had helped. Laurel crushed the Shard of Destiny between her fingers.

Foundation. That was the idea that spread from the Shard, dissolving into the Verilian mana flows. Like the one used for the wall, it was too perfect for her purposes not to use.

The Core was the foundation of the City, the sect, their hopes and dreams. Laurel let all those feelings build as she worked with the shard, not forcing or guiding, but encouraging and suggesting as the power settled into the City.

Most was nestled within the Core itself, being both subsumed and kept separate as it anchored into a dimension Laurel didn't have access to.

But she could feel the result. In an instant, power surged through the Core, rippling through the City and spreading outward through the rest of the domain. Everything was improved. From the natural treasures that anchored the mana and spread magic to the mortal population, to the Perks that let their own progress shine. Almost more importantly, every connection to the Core was strengthened. The paths to other Meristan Cores went from well-worn dirt tracks to wide paved boulevards. It was subtle and small, but the effect would grow over time. Nothing short of a prolonged siege would have the chance to weaken them in future. Something she had no intention of allowing.

Then power surged into her own connection, whiting out the rest of her vision. The act of cultivating a Core was inherently one of balance, as Devon had so adroitly said. Her freedoms were curtailed, her progression slowed, but her cultivation benefited from being so closely tied to the metaphysical entity. Like a struck bell, the mana in her body resonated, moving even faster in her well-developed meridians as her bond was made more real, more solid.

There would be consequences for that. Such power was never free. And deep within she felt that she could have denied the deepened channel between herself and Verilia. But such would be a coward's act. Her home, her family, the future of the world lay in what she could do with the City. She would not shirk that duty.

**********

"The cards have been laid down. We can only hope we have a winning hand."

"How philosophical of you, General." Theresa was reclining on her seat, perfectly at her ease in the evening council meeting.

"I'm trying something new," Mansfeln said. "I'm going to accept what I cannot change."

Ridge choked in what Laurel suspected was an attempt to hold in a laugh. They would see what happened when everything actually started. The army was deployed, including their cultivators. Now it was time to bait the trap and hope they caught something worthwhile. Without getting bit in the process.

************

"Ladies and gentlemen, people of Verilia and honored guests. I bid you welcome. These are trying times. However I am not afraid. The courage and conviction of our people are too great to be overcome by any who lurk in the shadows, afraid of the light.

"It is therefore my great honor to announce the commencement of the first International Tournament of the Eternal Archive. For the bonds of friendship and honing of skills will be more important than ever before."

The king's voice boomed out over the Arena, mana making sure it carried to each of the spectators.

Of which there were plenty. Annette didn't enjoy the sports the kids came to watch, but she hardly imagined the stands could be more crowded on those occasions. For better or worse, the good people of her home City did enjoy a bit of spectacle. The news that there would be magic battles as entertainment over the next week was too much of an enticement to resist. Supporting their local favorites, as the novice competition was open to almost all comers brought even more.

A nifty piece of accounting, courtesy of Curson, was even funneling the proceeds for the quite reasonable admissions prices into the stone shipment budget for Martin's wall. Annette forced her smile to stay serene and to stand stock still as she internally gloated.

It had come together rather splendidly, if she did say so herself.

"Thank you all, and let the tournament begin!"

The ending of the King's speech brought with it a burst of mana, sparks shooting out of the top of the Arena walls and harmlessly floating down over the crowd, where it disappeared. Right on schedule.

As their monarch departed, with all due pomp and circumstance, the business they were all here for would get underway. There were four main categories of bout that Annette had been required to plan for. Unarmed combat was the easiest, and would be where things started. Tomorrow the preliminary bouts that allowed cultivation techniques and weapons would begin. Both would culminate on the final day, with the winners being rewarded with lavish prizes.

Prizes even she was unaware of. Apparently it was some ancient tradition about sect leaders awarding prizes that meant it was staying a secret for now. Half of her wanted to scream whenever it came up. The other half was glad it was not on her head to deliver, not with everything else.

Interspersed would be the knowledge and crafting competitions. Less impressive to watch, but more impactful in the long term. A few well-placed notices in the Guilds around town would draw the right kind of spectators. It was also where her own prowess would be on display. It was a discomfiting thought, putting herself forward in such a manner. But Annette was nothing if not practical, and the ability to create spatial bags, even ones as basic as hers, would only be a worthwhile bargaining chip if others knew about the opportunity.

The games begun, she turned her attention to Laurel, where she was taking center stage.