“I’m sorry, little brother.” She picked up a shard of the crystal. There was still a drop of the elixir on it. “I’m sorry I didn’t protect you.”
She blew on it and it disappeared. She closed her eyes and spread her arms, smiling:
“I’ve always wanted to fly.”
A moment later, the island, after breaking through the clouds, exploded into a myriad of huge stone fragments. They rained down on the desert.
***
Hadjar regained consciousness because something was biting his leg. Opening his eyes, he beheaded some animal — a mixture of a crocodile and a jackal — with a wave of his hand. The beast had been trying to break through his skin to get to the meat, but its fangs were unable to penetrate the skin of a true cultivator.
“What the-”
As was custom, Hadjar didn’t get to finish speaking. The clouds above his head were pierced by thousands of fiery meteoroids. Trailing black smoke behind them, they raced toward the horizon.
“Serra…”
At that moment, Hadjar felt a small, yellow drop appear inside his spatial ring.
“Forgive me, Hadjar,” she said. Hadjar didn’t look around. This sensation was familiar to him. The Shadows of the past had also spoken to him like this. “I’m not a mortal. I’m the Key. I exist to let people in and to then let them out. And now I had to let the past go... The people who created me died a long time ago, and I’m going after them. To the past. I’m glad I got to meet so many good people before I had to leave.”
Hadjar stared at the fiery comets in silence. The wind ruffled his ragged trousers, and he was still clutching a fragment of Mountain Wind.
“Rahaim never believed in fate. He thought that he could change mine. Because of that, he lost his wife and son. I know life was unfair to Sankesh. Please don’t blame him for anything. Just remember his story and his mistakes, and when the time comes, and trust me, it will, don’t repeat them.”
Sankesh’s life flashed through Hadjar’s mind. From the moment he’d seen his father’s blank, uncaring gaze, to the moment Ragar had told him Aisha had died.
“Please,” Serra’s voice was almost inaudible now, “say goodbye to Rahaim for Sankesh and me. We’ll wait for him. His time will come soon enough.”
Hadjar frowned.
“Why does life enjoy giving me impossible tasks?”
He saw the sultan of the Pearl of the Sands once again, standing on the battlements. There were only a few strands of gray in his hair. Not much time had passed for a true cultivator — only a few centuries — but Rahaim had died a gray-haired, withered old man. The sultan who had sacrificed his son for a golem’s sake. The man who had created a huge library in order to change the fate of a remnant of an ancient civilization. Why had he done all of that?
A flash of insight struck Hadjar. All the mysteries and secrets that had plagued him and Einen during their journey were finally revealed. It really was that simple…
Cracking his neck, Hadjar turned and started walking toward Underworld City.
Chapter 422
Einen and the others found him three weeks later. As a true cultivator, Hadjar had no particular need for food or water. He could just absorb energy from the World River. Still, he was glad to see some familiar faces and drink some cold water.
He was less glad about Einen hitting him in the left and then in the right eye. He also learned that the islander could swear just as well as Nero in his prime. Well, that actually made sense, as Einen had been to many ports in his life.
When he’d advanced to the level of a true cultivator, the blue amulet had disappeared from Hadjar’s hand, which scared the witches and sorcerer. However, Hadjar had no intention of taking revenge.
After a month’s journey spent listening to the old man’s stories and eating the boy’s tasteless meals, they reached the entrance to Underworld City. The huge mountain dominated the sandy expanse. The way up was easier and more interesting than the descent. Tilis and Karissa cleared a small area at the foot of the mountain. Beneath the sand was a slab of granite covered in ancient runes that glowed faintly. Powering the runes with a small amount of their energy, the witches created a powerful stream of wind. It was strong enough to carry an adult all the way to the high peak.
It was Hadjar’s second time looking at this mountain peak. It looked like the mouth of some creature (most likely a bird), but the artistry no longer inspired much awe in him.
“By the Evening Stars, all of you made it back!”
Hadjar wasn’t surprised to see Paris waiting for them at the entrance. He looked exactly the same as he had on the day they’d departed.
“We-”
“Take me to the Sage,” Hadjar interrupted him. “Immediately.”
Paris didn’t miss the fact that Hadjar didn’t have his blue amulet anymore, or his new aura of a Heaven Soldier.
“I remember our bargain, Northerner. The Sage himself came out to greet you.”
Paris stepped aside and an old man emerged from the shadows.
Einen immediately took a step back and readied his staff-spear. Hadjar just attacked. Leaving behind a dozen afterimages, he reached the Sage in an instant and punched him in the jaw. He hit him with all he had, using all his energy. The shockwave that spread outward after the punch shattered the rocks around them. Huge boulders rained down. Paris and the others, except Einen, were thrown to the floor.
“What the hell-”
An imperious wave of the old man’s hand interrupted Ramukhan.
“I’m glad to see you too, Mad General.”
The Sage, the leader of Underworld City, the strongest cultivator in the Sea of Sand, a Lord, looked exactly like Rahaim had on the day he’d been killed by Arliksha. Or rather, when she’d killed his golem. The real Rahaim had been born thousands of years before his son could’ve ever imagined.
***
They sat in a secluded room. Rahaim was smoking a hookah. He wore a blue caftan and yellow trousers. A small, sandy pond separated them.
“I couldn’t help it, Mad General.” Rahaim’s voice was the same as his golem’s had been. “When my wife died, I couldn’t stay in the Pearl any longer, so I came here, to the city my thirst for knowledge had long ago led me to.”
It was just as Hadjar had suspected. Rahaim was tens of thousands of years old. He’d begun his search for the library of Mage City back when Lidus had been a mere village. True cultivators lived long lives. Very long lives…
Born in the Pearl, he’d explored every corner of the Sea of Sand until he’d found Underworld City. He’d then become a personal disciple of the Sage at that time, and had even succeeded him after the man’s death. Despite being a Lord, he fell in love with a mere mortal, and he took her back to the Pearl, where they lived happily for half a century. She was able to become a practitioner at the Bodily Rivers level, but that wasn’t enough to save her. She became ill, and even he, a Lord, couldn’t cure her.
“After she died, I left a golem-clone behind to take my place. It was of the highest quality that the Empire could produce. I gave him three orders: take care of Serra, Sankesh, and gather information about the library.”