591 A Victim's Dream of Safety (Part 3)

To’han, Non-Elemental Palace, two weeks later.

Across the entirety of the planet’s surface, only two structures had ever been erected. The first and most important, was the Lord’s Palace. A series of vast halls and dark corridors formed by the controlled growth of the most ancient tree of the planet, whose entwined branches formed the palace’s walls, floors and roofs.

Originally built as an outpost used to scout the newly opened universe, the Lord’s Palace was the place where the leader of the elemental faction resided. To those who lived by their faith, however, the Lord’s palace was much more. It was the beating heart of the elementals’ dream. The starting point from which their kin would be able to shape the universe into a home in which they wouldn’t need to worry about being hunted down and harvested to near extinction.

A universe where nature could flourish without being exploited by greed.

Much less important, but still crucial, was the only other artificially constructed structure on the planet. A shapeless construct of light, darkness, and spatial essence where the oddest types of elementals lived. This palace was the place where the leading members of the odd elementals resided, and was referred to as the Non-Elemental palace.

United in their dream, yet separated in their loyalties, the odd elementals followed the Lord as an ally, rather than a God, for their existence was a shapeless one that went beyond the restrictions of the most basic of elements.

Despite making up only a small fraction of the population, however, the odd elementals took care of the larger problems. Tasks like the creation of systems which could accommodate colonies of each type of elemental, transportation, scouting, and, under the Lord’s guidance, coordination of the domain’s military operations.

One such operation was the task that was being discussed in the main hall of the Non-Elemental Palace. A bright pocket of space separated by the contrasting darkness by a glass-like barrier of solidified space.

Inside this hall, seated on three thrones, were just as many robed figures. A crystal-like silhouette of solidified space, a shadow that seeped through the robe’s holes like liquid smoke, and a figure whose appearance was hidden underneath the brightness of the light it emanated.pᴀɴᴅᴀ-ɴ0ᴠᴇʟ.ᴄᴏᴍ

Extremely rare on their own, these aspects of light, space and darkness formed a trio which had never been observed together, making their sheer presence a once in a lifetime spectacle.

These three elementals were currently looking at the middle of the hall, where two more silhouettes stood in silence. The latter’s nervous behavior and shaky appearance showed how less refined their existence was when compared to that of the three figures they had come to report the outcome of their mission to.

pᴀɴᴅᴀ-ɴ0ᴠᴇʟ “You were followed?” The sitting dark elemental asked in a deep and growly voice.

To respond to the question was the figure standing to the left, a red-eyed shadow which, due to the light produced by the ancient light elemental that sat on the middle throne, was forced to reveal his pitch black physical appearance. “Yes, Ancestor. While the attack was successful, they reacted quicker than we had expected. As you know, we can travel through our elements at a rapid speed, but not one that matches a cultivator’s.”

The dark ancestor remained quiet. There was no need for him to speak to express the disappointment and embarrassment he felt. After all, his kin was born in darkness. To fail to remain unnoticed was not unlike a healthy human failing to breathe, or forget how to walk. Almost as if reacting to these feelings, the liquid smoke that floated out of the ancestor’s robe began to seep back in, making his appearance somewhat smaller.

Ignoring his peer’s disappointment, the ancestor of the spatial elemental interjected, “It matters not. As long as you completed the mission, we have fulfilled our obligations.” His tone was an aloof one.

After hearing his ancestor’s words, the second standing figure, a glass-like spatial elemental, took a step towards the thrones, and with visible worry, asked, “What if the cultivators reach To’han? It would take a single one of their diplomats to reveal what we have done.. After all, our orders were to threaten, not to attack.”

This question seemed to hit home. The Lord’s orders were clear to some extent. ‘A warning shot and a demonstration of power. Make them wary of us, make them leave.’ pᴀɴᴅᴀ ɴ0ᴠᴇʟ

When this task had reached the non-elemental palace, the messenger had clarified the Lord’s vague words.. If the warning were to fail to produce the desired results, a negotiation was to be had.

Yet, the three ancient elementals had decided to discard this interpretation, and follow their own. A warning shot became a preemptive strike, and the cultivator’s wariness had become a hatred that had to be answered to. By doing this, the non-elemental ancestors believed they would be able to scare the cultivators out of their new home, as well as use this success to gain their people’s favor.

Unfortunately, the non-elemental ancestors had underestimated the Immortal Armada, for they were as desperate to establish a safe new home as the elementals were. All their attack did was to eradicate the possibility of a civil conversation, had the warning failed to produce the results the Lord had hoped for. A possibility that, if still viable, the Lord had already claimed to be willing to explore.

Now, however, the cultivators had become aware of a hostile power hidden within the universe they wished to colonize, and if that wasn’t enough, they had been able to follow, and possibly identify them.

As they considered the outcome of the mission, the three ancestors found themselves in a conflict. Confess their actions to the Lord, take the blame, and hope for the Lord to solve this problem himself, consolidating his rule over their kind.. Or solve the problem themselves..

A mysterious history and carefree lifestyle was not the only reason why the elementals of light, space and darkness had separated themselves from the rest. The real reason was pride.

For eons the three types of elemental had been considered to be a superior type of elementals, free from a planet’s boundaries, able to live anywhere in the universe without having to bend or hide from the greedy hands of those who discovered their existence. In their minds, the right to rule over a coalition of elementals was rightfully theirs.. Instead, to their dismay, that power had been granted to a human cultivator. A monster embedded with the powers of their kind and venerated like a prophet.

This was unacceptable. ρꪖꪕᦔꪖꪕꪫꪣꫀ ꪶ

When invited to join the cause, the elementals of space, darkness and light had given their power to it, but their hearts.. Their hearts always remained keen on seizing power. For that reason, the more the three considered taking the blame, and losing any hope for control, the more uncomfortable they felt.

The first to make up their mind about the problem at hand, was the ancestor of the light elementals, whose appearance grew in brilliance as he began to talk, “I refuse to be treated like a child by some abomination.. Or for my kind to be used as a hostage to garner our loyalty. If what we did was a mistake, the weight falls on our kind. Our destiny is in our hands, and if the rest of our people cannot see that, we will help them understand.”

His tone grew angrier as he continued talking. He was speaking his mind, forming a connection between his mistakes and his suppressed feelings like a child caught in a lie.

“It sounds like you have a plan..” the ancestor of the spatial elementals muttered in a barely audible tone.

The light emanated by the former began to flicker, then stabilized. “I do.” He confirmed before turning towards the two elemental who were patiently waiting in the middle of the hall. “Head to the Lord’s Palace, report exactly what you saw. The cultivators did not heed the Lord’s warning.. And reacted with hostility. Expect them to fabricate a casus belli, and mount an attack.”

The spatial elemental nodded, then asked, “What about the scouts?”

“Find them before they come in contact with any of the Lord’s followers. Kill them.” The bright figure responded before standing up, and turning towards the darkness that lay beyond the hall’s glass-like walls. He then added in a grim and dispirited tone, almost as if reciting a scripted line, “The Lord’s naivety exposed us to his kin’s cruelty, bringing a war upon us. The life of every elemental we’ll lose, will be on him.”

——

IAF Llewellyn, Coordination office, two months later.

“Commander Okka, I am here to update you on the scouting mission.” A middle aged man with short grizzled hair said to a busy-looking commander, who gave him a sign of understanding by waving his hand whilst brushing through a pile of important documents. “Soon after their departure, a member of team four returned to base camp. He reported that Yannis, their head tracker, had felt the presence of two elementals, one confirmed to be a dark elemental. The rest of the team continued the pursuit.”

Still focused on the documents, Okka interrupted the middle-aged, “This is part of the original report, get to the update.” He said impatiently.

“Commander, our scouts are trained in speed pursuits and stealth recon. If a team fails to spot their target, that suggests two outcomes. The latter is significantly more powerful than they are, or they are heading in the wrong direction.” The middle-aged man explained with a matter-of-fact tone. Then, as he noticed Okka’s attention slightly shift on him, he added, “In both cases, they are instructed to back off, and come back to base.. But-“

“But?”

“They never came back. We have sent team five and nine to track them down, but they too have failed to return.”

For the first time, Okka seemed to lose interest in the documents. With heavy hands he placed them onto his desk, then began to stare at the empty space in front of him. “Whoever is doing this to us, wants to start a war.” he muttered to himself before springing up on his feet, and turning towards the large glass window that separated his office to the vacuum of space.

He then took two steps forward, heading towards the glass.. But before he could come in contact with it, a portal opened, allowing him to cross through. The sound of boots stomping on metal was cut short, as the surface the commander walked on turned to stone. The claustrophobic metallic cage he was used to living in had become an enormous hall, with wooden walls and a starry sky as roof.

In this hall were no desks, no control panels, no staff.. Just a single bare-chested middle-aged man swinging a wooden sword in a trance. His face, hidden by long gray hair that fluttered in response to the man’s movements, brushing over his sweaty skin as if trying and failing to erase the map of scars that covered his body.

Each movement of this individual was perfect. Not a single muscle was misused, no breath was wasted.. His body was the incarnation of swordsmanship, and his training was an example to any of those who had the privilege to witness it.

As he observed the man’s movements, Okka felt a sudden surge of pride and respect well in his heart, to a point where, without noticing, he had begun to stand at attention.

Despite noticing Okka’s presence, the man continued his set of exercises, ending with a rising slash that seemed powerful enough to split the entire universe in halves. Once done, his arms went down slowly, and from in between his dried up lips and heavy breaths, came a few faint words, “What is it?”

“Warlord. It would appear that our opponent will not settle for anything less than us leaving this universe.” Okka said while maintaining a low gaze. He was not afraid, just too respectful to match the other man’s line of sight.

Across the large yet empty room spread the recognizable sound. The man Okka referred to as Warlord was inhaling slowly, then exhaling.. Thinking. It was only after a full minute, that he approached a weapons rack from which hung a white long-sleeved shirt, and said, “The project will not stop. The scientific team and military are to continue with their current task. The admiralty will protect their operations..”

“And you, sir?” Okka asked.

The man sat on a wooden bench, then quietly began to slide one foot after another in a pair of black military boots. “Sending more of my men to die to gather information is pointless. I will head there myself. If our opponent is set on a war, I will end things myself.”

Okka could not help but feel admiration. He was a cultivator, but also a military man through and through. He had witnessed thousands of commanders send men to their deaths for the chance of gaining the slightest of advantages.. But not the man in front of him. He didn’t know if it was his power that gave him confidence, but he had never seen him back off from dirtying his hands, even when facing the unknown.

While his interactions with the man were rare to say the least, each encounter increased the level of respect Okka felt for him, and now, as it reached a new height, he once again stood at attention and exclaimed, “Yes, Warlord Rulin.”

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