Soulbound: Dual Cultivation

Lucas let the silence stretch for a moment longer as he looked at the artifact resting on the table between them. The Core of Dominion, the Sage had called it. It pulsed gently, as though it had a heartbeat of its own, an artifact of staggering ambition, birthed by a mind that had clearly brushed the very edge of what alchemy could achieve.

Then, at last, Lucas offered a quiet smile, folding his hands together atop the table.

"You flatter me greatly, Sage Raph," he said, voice warm, respectful. "But I fear your words give me far more credit than I deserve."

The Sage didn't interrupt. He simply watched, eyes narrowed slightly in curiosity, perhaps even amusement.

Lucas continued, "What you have crafted here is no simple tool. Your understanding of Qi manipulation, of structural resonance, of artifact binding, it's beyond anything I've ever encountered. To claim I could simply look at it and solve the very problem that has eluded you… that would be arrogance."

He exhaled lightly and glanced back at the shimmering disc. It still pulsed, steady and quiet, like it was listening.

"I'm not saying no," Lucas said gently. "But I must confess, I can't comprehend the artifact fully. Not yet. There are elements within its design that are unfamiliar to me, glyphs I've never seen, material interactions I don't entirely understand, and an energy signature that behaves unlike any artifact I've encountered before."

He shifted slightly in his seat, careful not to sound dismissive. "I would need time. Not just to study it, but to understand the flow of its intention. To see beyond what it is… and into what it's meant to become."

The Sage nodded slowly, stroking the edge of his short silver beard as Lucas spoke. His expression didn't reveal disappointment, on the contrary, there was something glinting behind his eyes. Approval.

Lucas finished with a respectful bow of his head. "If you are still willing, I would like to take that time. To learn from the artifact, and from you, if you'll permit it. Only then could I hope to offer anything of true value."

Lucas understood, in that moment of quiet reverence, that what had just been placed before him was more than an assignment or a challenge, it was an opportunity to peer into the heart of a masterpiece. A creation born from decades of refinement, failed attempts, breakthroughs, and the undying pursuit of mastery. It was rare, perhaps even unheard of, for a Sage to share his life's work with a younger cultivator, much less trust him to examine it unsupervised.

He regarded the artifact once more before lifting his gaze to the Sage. "I'll treat it with the utmost care," he said with calm sincerity. "You have my word."

The Sage inclined his head ever so slightly, a faint gesture of approval, then reached into the sleeve of his robe and pulled out a set of delicate parchments, yellowed slightly at the edges, marked with symbols written in the fluid, looping strokes of an old alchemic script. His slender fingers moved with practiced ease, dipping a thin brush into an ink vial and beginning to scribble notes with a level of focus that made time seem to slow around him.

Lucas waited silently, watching the Sage work. His gaze occasionally drifted to the way the man's brush danced across the paper, at once graceful and deliberate, every stroke forming sigils and equations whose meanings he could only partially interpret.

Finally, the Sage set the brush down and gently passed them across the table toward him.

"These will help you grasp the structure of the Core," he said in that deep, quiet voice of his. "Some of the glyphs won't make sense yet, but study them with focus. You'll begin to see the layers."

Lucas took the parchments with both hands, bowing with genuine respect. "Thank you, Sage. This is an honour I won't take lightly."

The Sage gave a small, unreadable smile. "Let's see what your eyes can perceive where others have failed."

What followed was not merely a farewell, but an extended conversation that stretched well into the late morning hours. They delved into discussions of alchemy, its history, its forgotten branches, and the theory behind some of the Sage's lesser-known formulas. Lucas listened intently, sometimes asking questions, sometimes only absorbing the depth of knowledge being shared.

More than once, the Sage addressed specific bottlenecks Lucas had been struggling with in his own studies. A particular refinement technique that kept producing unstable results. A binding sigil that never fused properly with flame-based essences. A sequence of elemental rotation that always disrupted the balance during synthesis.

With a few sharp insights and elegant explanations, the Sage dismantled those obstacles before Lucas's very eyes, offering clarity where confusion had lingered for weeks. And though the conversation was dense and intellectually demanding, it left Lucas feeling exhilarated rather than exhausted.

He realized he was speaking not just to a master of the craft, but to someone who had made alchemy his life's path, a pursuit not of power or prestige, but of understanding itself.

The Sage finally rose from his seat, his frail frame rising with the quiet creak of old bones and the rustle of thick alchemist robes. His eyes, though sunken with age, held the shimmer of immense intellect and time-hardened wisdom as he regarded Lucas one last time.

"This is where we end it for today," he said calmly, his voice still possessing that deep, almost melodic resonance. "You've impressed me far more than I anticipated, young man."

Lucas stood as well and bowed once more, humbly. "Thank you, Sage. I've learned more today than I could've hoped for."

But the Sage held up a hand, halting the formalities. He stepped closer and placed that same hand gently on Lucas's shoulder, a light touch, yet filled with significance. His gaze bore into Lucas with a new kind of intensity, more personal, more protective.

"You are a rare gem, Xavier," the Sage said, his words slow and deliberate. "And rare gems are always sought after. Not always for the right reasons."

"There are powerful factions in this realm," the Sage continued, "some ancient and wise… others desperate and ruthless. They will see your talent, feel your potential… and try to own it."

He paused, letting the weight of his warning settle in the air.

"Be careful where you step, who you trust, and most importantly, who you allow to guide your path. You are not meant to be a tool in someone else's hands. You're meant to craft your own legacy."

Lucas nodded slowly, the meaning behind the words anchoring deep within him. "I understand, Sage. Truly."

The Sage gave a small, approving smile, but there was something else in his eyes, perhaps worry, or perhaps hope, maybe both.

"Good," he said. "Then take your time with the artifact. Study it carefully, but more importantly, learn to listen to your instincts. And if you ever feel the shadows closing in around you, send a message to me."

He stepped back and turned slowly, his long robes flowing like mist behind him as he began to walk toward the far corridor. Just before vanishing into the dim passage, he spoke one final sentence without looking back.

"The brightest flames often attract the darkest eyes."

And then he was gone....