CHAPTER 96: ENTERING THE CULTIVATION REALM

Lynnor stood up.

"That reminds me...Can I see those things you were given just before we were left alone?"

Aramith and Mozrael looked at her, confused. "What are you talking about?" Aramith asked.

What item did she want to see?

"You were given some balls or something. Don’t you remember?" She shook her head. "Maybe I hit you too hard—"

"Oh, I remember!" Aramith took out the orb he’d been given. Mozrael took hers out as well.

"What are they for?" Aramith asked, observing them. They were just grey, glass orbs. Nothing special.

"Let me see," Lynnor stretched an arm.

They hesitated for a moment, then handed them to her. Lynnor studied them for a while. Aramith’s first, then Mozrael’s.

Her expression turned grim after a while.

Aramith felt something was wrong. Why would she make such a face?

"Is there something wrong?" He asked. "What are they for?" He asked again.

Lynnor let out a heavy sigh, then looked at them both. For the first time, she looked sad.

"Your father is a very wicked person, you know that?"

"What do you mean?" Aramith looked down. "I brought this down on myself. It’s all my fault that he did this to me. To us," he glanced at Mozrael.

Lynnor closed her eyes and shook her head slowly. "Tell me, Aramith, or mozrael if you know the answer." She opened her eyes. "Do you know a sister called Lia?"

"Lia?"

"Lia?"

But they just stared at her like she’d said the sky was under their feet and that people ate through their eyes.

"Who’s Lia?" Aramith asked.

Lynnor clenched her teeth.

"Never mind that. Do you know of Kesha? Or Kethra?" She asked again.

But the same result happened again. They didn’t know who any of those people were.

Lynnor looked at the two orbs she now held. "So this is what you chose, Henndar. It’s cruel, not generous."

The orbs were filled with complex alchemy formations that were difficult to notice. And Lynnor could also sense a domain within each. The aura around them was the same aura Henndar had.

When she peered into them, she saw memories belonging to Aramith and Mozrael. They were memories of Lia, of Kesha, of Kethra, and a few others. Henndar chose to remove their memories of those people. Maybe keeping those memories was going to be painful, but totally removing them like that wasn’t good either.

"I’m sorry, you two." Lynnor looked at the two orbs with a bitter expression.

"What are you apologizing for?" Aramith didn’t get what she meant by that

Crack!

A sharp pain shot through their heads, knocking them to the ground. It was unbearable.

Lynnor turned the orbs over in her palms, their surfaces flickering with fading traces of memories. Faces she recognized. Names they had forgotten.

"Forgive me," she whispered, and the words seemed too fragile for what came next.

She crushed them.

Aramith and Mozrael fell, screaming without sound as the fragments scattered into light. Lynnor reached for them as they collapsed, blood coming from their noses.

The next morning, Lynnor woke them up like nothing had happened, and they continued their journey.

It was another normal day for Aramith and mozrael, but Lynnor knew they’d never know what precious things they’d lost the previous night.

Now, in their memories, they would only know that they were banished by their father for talking out of turn and defending a traitor. Now they knew they had to follow Lynnor.

Lynnor played along with it. Knowing less was sometimes better than having a lot of knowledge. And if they lost those painful memories, it would be better.

Aramith felt like a heavy weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He could move easily now, and he was getting more excited about going to the academy. They would be able to cultivate better there. Lynnor also observed them both to see if anything else had changed. And the biggest change she’d seen was Mozrael. She was now...timid in a way. She seemed shy. Like when they’d both come to the forest the first time. She suspected that Mozrael’s confidence had something to do with Lia.

Apart from that, she seemed to have more trust in Lynnor. It was probably that she’d forgotten the fight she had with Lynnor.

For hours, they travelled till the sun disappeared, and the sky rolled up in black.

They set up camp, and after eating, they all settled.

Mozrael sat with her back to a tree, arms tucked around her knees, watching Lynnor from under her lashes. She didn’t say anything, but the suspicion in her gaze was clear. Aramith settled beside her, still sore.

"Alright," Lynnor said finally, turning to face them both. "I think it’s time I teach you something deeper. You’ve heard of cultivation realms, haven’t you?"

Mozrael glanced up. "...You mean like... where your gates and steps are?"

"Exactly. Every cultivator has one. It’s the internal space where your essence lives, your ’inner world’ if you will. And while most people ignore it... I’ve learned that understanding what yours looks like can make a massive difference. It sharpens your focus, aligns your essence." She sat down cross-legged, her tone unusually solemn.

"So... we can actually see it?" Aramith asked, brows drawn together.

"Yes," Lynnor replied. "But to do so, you must shift your consciousness into it completely. Leave your body behind. That’s the dangerous part."

Mozrael hesitated, then asked, a bit softer than before, "...What do you mean by dangerous?"

Lynnor exhaled. "When you’re in your realm, your body becomes immobile. Time moves differently there. Much faster. The longer you stay, the colder your physical form becomes. If you linger too long, I believe your body shuts down permanently... and your mind gets trapped inside."

Silence followed. Even the birds seemed to fall quiet.

"Has that ever happened to you?" Aramith asked.

She shook her head. "No, I wouldn’t be here if such had happened. But I’ve seen someone who didn’t return. Eyes open, breathing stopped. Essence gone."

Mozrael’s fingers tightened slightly around her knees. "...So why now?"

"What do you mean?" Lynnor tilted her head

"I mean, why are you...telling us at this time? We haven’t started cultivating yet." She paused. "...and it seems dangerous."

Aramith glanced at Lynnor’s carefully. She had a bottle beside her, but it was still unopened. Was she very serious about this or what?

"Because you’re going to be strong enough to try it soon," she said. "And because I need you to understand how far this rabbit hole goes. Cultivation isn’t just about power. It’s about understanding your very being. And..."

Before either could protest, Lynnor reached out.

Her fingers brushed their shoulders, just a soft touch. The world vanished all at once.

In an instant, the forest faded, the tension in their bodies evaporated like smoke... and they were in a different plane.

Above them stretched a sky darker than midnight, yet filled with millions of stars, spinning slowly like glowing embers from a flame. The constellations were unfamiliar, shifting in patterns that seemed to respond to their presence. Some twinkled, others pulsed in slow rhythm, as though having their own heartbeat. The place felt...alive.

Below them lay no ground as they knew it. Instead, their feet touched an endless sea of silver mist, smooth and fluid, yet supporting their weight. Every time they took a step, it sent ripples through it, and in those ripples they caught brief reflections of the forest.

Mozrael clutched her arm unconsciously, shrinking slightly under the strange pressure of the space. Her eyes darted around like a cornered animal, but there was no fear, only the overwhelming feeling of being somewhere too vast, too sacred. "This... doesn’t feel real," she whispered, almost apologetically. Her voice rippled across the space, echoing everywhere. She blushed.

Aramith didn’t utter a word. His gaze was fixed on the two gates ahead. Colossal, ancient, and impossibly high. Each gate towered into the sky above, flanked by spiraling railings that shimmered, and huge stairs rose to them. Symbols danced along their surface, glowing and fading like ancient alchemy formations.

Lynnor stepped forward.

Then, without warning, she turned to Aramith and thrust her hand into his chest.

He jolted back with a choked breath, but her hand passed clean through. No pain spread. Just the unsettling cold of contact with something immaterial.

Mozrael gasped audibly, her body flinching away. "W-What are you doing?!"

Lynnor sighed, brushing her silver braid behind her shoulder. "Relax. You’re not solid here. None of us is." She didn’t just pull her hand out. She passed it up, through his head.

Aramith looked down. His hands were... blurry, shimmering outlines with faint trails of energy swirling inside like smoke in a jar. He moved his fingers slowly, watching as light followed them.

"You’re in the space between," Lynnor said. "The edge of what is. In here, the body is left behind. This place reveals what you are. The stronger your soul, your will, your cultivation... the more defined you become."

Mozrael lifted her hand, turning it slightly. Her fingertips looked as though they were dipped in starlight. She blinked at it, then glanced at Aramith, noticing how his form was slightly more defined than hers. Her eyes lowered.

"Come," Lynnor beckoned, her voice soft, but the air around it rippled.

They obeyed without question.

With the first step, the air changed, becoming heavier, thicker, like breathing through clothes. The second step slowed them further, and by the third, it felt like wading through thick honey. Each step they took toward the gate felt like dragging themselves through an unseen current that resisted them.

Mozrael staggered, almost falling to her knees. She bit her lip and forced herself upward, eyes flicking to Aramith, who gritted his teeth and pushed forward stubbornly.

Without warning, a pressure unlike anything they’d felt crashed down on them.

It wasn’t a physical weight.

Their thoughts slowed. Their memories clawed their way forward. Buried fears, forgotten guilt, unspoken dreams. Mozrael saw her childhood again. The loneliness, the longing, the silence of never asking, never telling. Aramith saw shadows, blades of darkness, eyes watching, a voice telling him he must be strong, no matter the cost, and fingers pointing at him.

Their knees buckled under the force, and they were thrown back.

Lynnor stood, unshaken.

"The gates in cultivation reject those not yet ready to open them. I haven’t ascended it either, but I can withstand the force. You cannot... yet."

But before they could speak, the stars and constellations burned brighter.

An invisible weight pressed down on them, growing heavier with every second. It crushed them, forced breathless breath from them. It was like being pulled into the earth, like something wanted to bury them there.

Mozrael let out a small, strangled cry. Aramith tried to move, to breathe, and though breathing didn’t exist in this plane, he felt like he was suffocating.

Lynnor’s eyes widened. She hadn’t expected this. She pulled them out.

Aramith and Mozrael hit the forest floor. Limbs numb as they gasped for air.

It was cold, too cold.

They lay there, unmoving, frost kissing their skin. It took minutes before they could twitch a finger. Then, slowly, they sat up.

"That... shouldn’t have happened," Lynnor murmured, her tone uneven for the first time.

"...What... was that?" Mozrael whispered, trembling slightly.

"A taste of what’s ahead," Lynnor said softly, rubbing her temple. "And a reminder that this path isn’t easy."

But despite the terror, both of them felt curiosity pulling them. Something inside them had awoken.

They wanted to be able to feel that realm again.