The Harvester
The crystal mountain was getting closer at a rather fast pace, unlike when Rakna tried to approach it for the first time, confirming Fray’s belief that it only affected the soul scape’s owner and not a part of it; which he had become.
Rexam chirped as they reached their destination. He circled the mountain top and they spotted a wooden villa releasing smoke through its chimney.
“Let’s land,” Fray uttered and the Luquila nodded before gliding to the snow-covered ground of the mountain. The storyteller dismounted him the instant he landed.
He looked around carefully, observing the soft snow falling from above and the small, albeit cold, breeze. Despite its hypothermic nature, the place gave an oddly… comfortable feeling.
“What do we have here?” A majestic-sounding voice resounded crisply as if the sound was always meant to be heard at the most perfect volume and equalization no matter the distance. The door of the chalet opened and someone stepped out.
The man’s appearance was nothing short of gorgeous. He wore a navy and white suit, a silver tie around his neck, and a large coat sharing the same color pattern hanging off his shoulders. It was further adorned by red and gold on its finer details and flailed with the wind.
There was a silver chain hanging from his chest pocket and the cane he held in one of his hands appeared to be made of a quartz-like material; gleaming and translucent.
His facial features were the very definition of flawless. His skin was pale as you would expect from one living in a cold land, and his eyes shone cyan, like gemstones given life. His looks were further enhanced by his diamond-colored hair long enough to reach his waist and his tall frame that struck awe on the onlooker without taking anything away from his beauty.
“I confess; I did not expect a guest today,” he spoke serenely. “I wonder for what purpose you have come here? I am afraid I cannot grant wishes currently if that is a hope you harbored.”
Fray didn’t say anything outright and inspected the man from head to toe. There was something about this person that unsettled him. He invoked respect by his mere presence and speech, and there was something about him that simultaneously felt familiar yet foreign.
“…are you the Sage of The Crystal Mountain?” He asked tentatively and failed to notice Rex cutely tilting his head at the stranger as if he was perplexed about something.
“That is a futile inquiry, would you not agree?” The man smiled. “At this very moment, with all that you know when you chose to visit my abode, the only two things I can ever be are an impostor or the genuine article,” he said placidly and approached the edge of the mountain top where he gazed into the distance at Rakna’s soul scape.
“For posterity; call me Sage. Let’s avoid wasting our time and proceed to the core of the subject, shall we?” He declared. “What is it that you want to learn from me?”
Fray stared at the legendary being’s back and breathed out. “You saved Rakna Xiorra’s life when he was exposed to those amounts of negative causality, correct?”
“Indeed,” the Sage nodded without hesitation. “My mountain acted as the filter that purified it into compatible fate with this soul; permitting its survival and mutation.”
“You are his Kzanaria,” Fray followed up straight away. “A Kzanaria is defined by a materialization of a soul’s ‘character’. It is an avatar; a persona. They occasionally invoke the image of a historic figure or a mythological ideal. That is why practitioners of the soul can come into possession of divine power through their Kzanaria. But at the end of the day, those avatars are not the authentic heritages. But there are natural exceptions to the rule.”
“Tiamat, the Crepuscule Queen,” he mentioned. “Her existence within Nyx can be associated with a Kzanaria; it was essentially overwritten when Nyx agreed to receive her Sub-Path. Then, there is you… if you have saved Rakna before he interacted with the preternatural, that would mean you latched onto his soul, not as he began to stabilize his soul scape, but since he was born. Why? And how did a legend such as yourself end up in a child without power?”
The Sage smiled. “Without power, is it?” He repeated. “That is of the utmost accuracy. Rakna Xiorra is a boy without power,” he said calmly with a nod. “But it is also his strength. He is, forever and ever, one who takes the power he does not have.”
“As for why I am here,” he continued with a hum. “I wished for it myself.”
“You wished for it?” Fray frowned. “Does that mean you chose Rakna on purpose?”
“No, that is far from the truth,” the Sage shook his head. “I had no need to choose anything. There was only one choice that ever mattered; to be who I am.”
“What do you--?”
“Shh,” the Sage shushed, a finger over his mouth, and Fray abruptly felt like he had lost the ability to speak altogether. “Some things are better left… unknown. Be on your way, my friend,” he stated and that was the last thing the storyteller heard before he vanished from the mountain along with Rexam.
The diamond-haired man lowered his hand and lifted his cane, about to head back inside his home when he caught a glimpse of a quiet ebony wolf staring at him from the side.
“Oh, you came to visit as well?” The Sage said as if he wasn’t surprised. “Fenriu, was it?”
Fen didn’t show any reaction to having his name called and simply approached the man. He circled him and sniffed a few times with sharp eyes.
“I see… you are a Nine-Tailed Wolf, after all. What can you tell from my scent, I wonder?”
The wolf took a few steps back to put a distance between the two of them before grunting. He spun around with his tails spreading out naturally. He seemed to be about to leave when the Sage let out a chuckle.
“Did you notice?” He asked and the wolf paused.
He looked behind him and growled. “Pesky fool,” he uttered inexplicably and flew off with a casual jump. The Sage watched him go with an amused expression.
“Truly not a chatty one, this pup,” he commented and returned to his chalet without any further disturbance.
“Please, give me a moment,” Hans said as everyone had already stepped out of his island, ready to leave. He crouched and began tracing strange but complex patterns on the ground with his finger.
As if progressing through a puzzle, at the same time, the island itself began to show changes. The outermost edges began to fold in like paper and the center dipped downward. Hans performed a few more adjustments to the spell only he could see before floating up.
Out of the blue, the entire island closed on itself and morphed into a giant book. It quickly shrunk to a normal size and flew to its owner’s raised hand.
“It is over,” he said whilst turning toward Rakna’s group.
“I still don’t know what’s going on…” Allan mumbled.
“Would you like me to enlighten you?” Hans suggested as he came up to them. “To make things short, I made the decision to accompany your little band as a… quest for inspiration of sorts. The words you write reflect the scenes you live; it would not hurt my creativity to finally part from the 100th Plateau.”
“Uh-uh,” the blond deadpanned. “So, like, you arbitrarily made Rak go through an existential crisis for his own good--”
“Oi.”
Allan ignored his best friend’s interjection, “--and somehow communicated your intentions to him fast enough that he invited you to the guild right after clawing his way out of a frozen sea?”
“I detect a substantial amount of sarcasm in your tone,” Hans quipped.
“No shit… how about you say that to the two girls who were considering murdering the heck out of you earlier?” The brawler snorted whilst pointing his thumb at Flavia and Higure. Both of them had a surprisingly wide smile on their faces. “Don’t be fooled. That’s the ‘scary smile mode’,” Allan added as a whisper.
“Thank you, but I have enough social awareness to understand it on my own,” the azure-eyed boy retorted without missing a beat.
Flavia sighed. “I don’t mind,” she voiced out and they looked at her. “The danger you put Rakna through aside… no matter how hard I try to blame you, I can’t help but be grateful for what you did,” she uttered with a lowered head and the therian next to her silently started patting her.
Her expression melted instantly and both Allan and Hans stared at her blankly.
“Same here,” Higure said with a snicker. “I was partly responsible anyway. What about you?” She asked Evelyn and the succubus sullenly looked at the author before huffing.
“I’m fine with it…” She grouched and a few people smiled wryly.
“Let’s go back to Athens then,” Rakna said and initiated a System transfer; since their destination was a hub city like Black Steel, it was possible to simply teleport there. “Oh, Hans, by the way, do you happen to have some money to spare for a few Soul Contracts or Summons?”
The blue-haired boy blinked and slowly raised an eyebrow. “…are you trying to take advantage of me right after joining your Guild?”
“No… why would I do such a thing?” The therian replied with an exaggerated shrug.
Hans stared at him like a disappointed parent before silently opening his System interface. A few seconds later, a chime resounded for everyone in the group, followed by a notification.
❮ ◈ ❯
Hans De Vale has deposited 200 000 000 Talys into the Guild Fund.
❮ ◈ ❯
Nobody said anything for a moment.
“Rak,” Allan spoke up first and put a hand on his friend’s shoulder with a straight face. “I love this guy. Good catch.”
“…”
AhraManyu
Sorry, I have been busy. Moved out last week as well and you would be surprised at how long and annoying it can be. Heck, I don't even have the internet installed yet. Fucking shitty provider... I knew I should have switched to Orange. Which... doesn't mean much for those of you that don't live in France, I'm sure.
I also spent like days on a single chapter I was writing, and I considered scrapping it more than once. That never happens with me normally, but it did now. And then there was another that I never knew where I should stop it and it messed with my head. At some point, it was more than six thousand words long until I eventually went around splitting it. But anyway, who cares about my life.
Chapter 312: 310. Wish Of The Unknown
Rexam chirped as they reached their destination. He circled the mountain top and they spotted a wooden villa releasing smoke through its chimney.
“Let’s land,” Fray uttered and the Luquila nodded before gliding to the snow-covered ground of the mountain. The storyteller dismounted him the instant he landed.
He looked around carefully, observing the soft snow falling from above and the small, albeit cold, breeze. Despite its hypothermic nature, the place gave an oddly… comfortable feeling.
“What do we have here?” A majestic-sounding voice resounded crisply as if the sound was always meant to be heard at the most perfect volume and equalization no matter the distance. The door of the chalet opened and someone stepped out.
The man’s appearance was nothing short of gorgeous. He wore a navy and white suit, a silver tie around his neck, and a large coat sharing the same color pattern hanging off his shoulders. It was further adorned by red and gold on its finer details and flailed with the wind.
There was a silver chain hanging from his chest pocket and the cane he held in one of his hands appeared to be made of a quartz-like material; gleaming and translucent.
His facial features were the very definition of flawless. His skin was pale as you would expect from one living in a cold land, and his eyes shone cyan, like gemstones given life. His looks were further enhanced by his diamond-colored hair long enough to reach his waist and his tall frame that struck awe on the onlooker without taking anything away from his beauty.
“I confess; I did not expect a guest today,” he spoke serenely. “I wonder for what purpose you have come here? I am afraid I cannot grant wishes currently if that is a hope you harbored.”
Fray didn’t say anything outright and inspected the man from head to toe. There was something about this person that unsettled him. He invoked respect by his mere presence and speech, and there was something about him that simultaneously felt familiar yet foreign.
“…are you the Sage of The Crystal Mountain?” He asked tentatively and failed to notice Rex cutely tilting his head at the stranger as if he was perplexed about something.
“That is a futile inquiry, would you not agree?” The man smiled. “At this very moment, with all that you know when you chose to visit my abode, the only two things I can ever be are an impostor or the genuine article,” he said placidly and approached the edge of the mountain top where he gazed into the distance at Rakna’s soul scape.
“For posterity; call me Sage. Let’s avoid wasting our time and proceed to the core of the subject, shall we?” He declared. “What is it that you want to learn from me?”
Fray stared at the legendary being’s back and breathed out. “You saved Rakna Xiorra’s life when he was exposed to those amounts of negative causality, correct?”
“Indeed,” the Sage nodded without hesitation. “My mountain acted as the filter that purified it into compatible fate with this soul; permitting its survival and mutation.”
“You are his Kzanaria,” Fray followed up straight away. “A Kzanaria is defined by a materialization of a soul’s ‘character’. It is an avatar; a persona. They occasionally invoke the image of a historic figure or a mythological ideal. That is why practitioners of the soul can come into possession of divine power through their Kzanaria. But at the end of the day, those avatars are not the authentic heritages. But there are natural exceptions to the rule.”
“Tiamat, the Crepuscule Queen,” he mentioned. “Her existence within Nyx can be associated with a Kzanaria; it was essentially overwritten when Nyx agreed to receive her Sub-Path. Then, there is you… if you have saved Rakna before he interacted with the preternatural, that would mean you latched onto his soul, not as he began to stabilize his soul scape, but since he was born. Why? And how did a legend such as yourself end up in a child without power?”
The Sage smiled. “Without power, is it?” He repeated. “That is of the utmost accuracy. Rakna Xiorra is a boy without power,” he said calmly with a nod. “But it is also his strength. He is, forever and ever, one who takes the power he does not have.”
“As for why I am here,” he continued with a hum. “I wished for it myself.”
“You wished for it?” Fray frowned. “Does that mean you chose Rakna on purpose?”
“What do you--?”
“Shh,” the Sage shushed, a finger over his mouth, and Fray abruptly felt like he had lost the ability to speak altogether. “Some things are better left… unknown. Be on your way, my friend,” he stated and that was the last thing the storyteller heard before he vanished from the mountain along with Rexam.
The diamond-haired man lowered his hand and lifted his cane, about to head back inside his home when he caught a glimpse of a quiet ebony wolf staring at him from the side.
“Oh, you came to visit as well?” The Sage said as if he wasn’t surprised. “Fenriu, was it?”
Fen didn’t show any reaction to having his name called and simply approached the man. He circled him and sniffed a few times with sharp eyes.
“I see… you are a Nine-Tailed Wolf, after all. What can you tell from my scent, I wonder?”
The wolf took a few steps back to put a distance between the two of them before grunting. He spun around with his tails spreading out naturally. He seemed to be about to leave when the Sage let out a chuckle.
“Did you notice?” He asked and the wolf paused.
He looked behind him and growled. “Pesky fool,” he uttered inexplicably and flew off with a casual jump. The Sage watched him go with an amused expression.
“Truly not a chatty one, this pup,” he commented and returned to his chalet without any further disturbance.
You are reading story The Harvester at novel35.com
* * *“Please, give me a moment,” Hans said as everyone had already stepped out of his island, ready to leave. He crouched and began tracing strange but complex patterns on the ground with his finger.
As if progressing through a puzzle, at the same time, the island itself began to show changes. The outermost edges began to fold in like paper and the center dipped downward. Hans performed a few more adjustments to the spell only he could see before floating up.
Out of the blue, the entire island closed on itself and morphed into a giant book. It quickly shrunk to a normal size and flew to its owner’s raised hand.
“It is over,” he said whilst turning toward Rakna’s group.
“I still don’t know what’s going on…” Allan mumbled.
“Would you like me to enlighten you?” Hans suggested as he came up to them. “To make things short, I made the decision to accompany your little band as a… quest for inspiration of sorts. The words you write reflect the scenes you live; it would not hurt my creativity to finally part from the 100th Plateau.”
“Uh-uh,” the blond deadpanned. “So, like, you arbitrarily made Rak go through an existential crisis for his own good--”
“Oi.”
“I detect a substantial amount of sarcasm in your tone,” Hans quipped.
“No shit… how about you say that to the two girls who were considering murdering the heck out of you earlier?” The brawler snorted whilst pointing his thumb at Flavia and Higure. Both of them had a surprisingly wide smile on their faces. “Don’t be fooled. That’s the ‘scary smile mode’,” Allan added as a whisper.
“Thank you, but I have enough social awareness to understand it on my own,” the azure-eyed boy retorted without missing a beat.
Flavia sighed. “I don’t mind,” she voiced out and they looked at her. “The danger you put Rakna through aside… no matter how hard I try to blame you, I can’t help but be grateful for what you did,” she uttered with a lowered head and the therian next to her silently started patting her.
Her expression melted instantly and both Allan and Hans stared at her blankly.
“Same here,” Higure said with a snicker. “I was partly responsible anyway. What about you?” She asked Evelyn and the succubus sullenly looked at the author before huffing.
“I’m fine with it…” She grouched and a few people smiled wryly.
“Let’s go back to Athens then,” Rakna said and initiated a System transfer; since their destination was a hub city like Black Steel, it was possible to simply teleport there. “Oh, Hans, by the way, do you happen to have some money to spare for a few Soul Contracts or Summons?”
The blue-haired boy blinked and slowly raised an eyebrow. “…are you trying to take advantage of me right after joining your Guild?”
“No… why would I do such a thing?” The therian replied with an exaggerated shrug.
Hans stared at him like a disappointed parent before silently opening his System interface. A few seconds later, a chime resounded for everyone in the group, followed by a notification.
❮ ◈ ❯
Hans De Vale has deposited 200 000 000 Talys into the Guild Fund.
❮ ◈ ❯
Nobody said anything for a moment.
“Rak,” Allan spoke up first and put a hand on his friend’s shoulder with a straight face. “I love this guy. Good catch.”
“…”
AhraManyu
Sorry, I have been busy. Moved out last week as well and you would be surprised at how long and annoying it can be. Heck, I don't even have the internet installed yet. Fucking shitty provider... I knew I should have switched to Orange. Which... doesn't mean much for those of you that don't live in France, I'm sure.
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