Cultivation is Creation

"Step forward, child," the first elder commanded, his voice still carrying those impossible harmonics that made it sound like several people speaking in perfect synchronization.

I approached the center of the chamber, keeping my movements steady and controlled. The Genesis Seed pulsed reassuringly in my inner world, its massive canopy still sheltering the blue sun from view. The red sun, meanwhile, blazed proudly in its orbit, as though ready to put on a show.

"Vayara tells us you can channel the red sun's power without runic stabilization," the lightning elder said. "Show us."

Just like last time, I reached for the red sun, the familiar red lines traced themselves across my skin. It was a crude display compared to using runes, but that was exactly what they expected from a "Natural."

"Interesting," the female elder murmured. "The resonance is crude, but stable. How long have you had this ability?"

"A few weeks," I replied, sticking to the truth that I remembered had worked before.

"Impossible," the flame elder scoffed right on cue, his runes burning with intense fire. "Without stabilization, he should have transformed or died within hours."

"Unless," the wind elder countered, "he's a Natural."

The conversation flowed exactly as it had before. They debated my status, argued about the headmaster's absence, and eventually turned to the question of who would claim me as their disciple.