Divine Apostasy Book 7 - Chapter 65

Chapter 65

Ruwen tumbled forward, clumps of short green grass doing little to cushion his fall. Gasps and shouts erupted from somewhere in front of him. Feeling seeped into his limbs and he looked up. The afternoon sun shone brightly down on Sift and all the Adepts, which it appeared he’d been instructing. Everyone now ran toward him.

You still there, Overlord? Ruwen asked, worried his sudden exited had created problems.

Yeah, it’s good to be home. You should probably drop by when you get a chance. A lot changed. Uruziel, Sivart, and I are on it though.

Thanks, buddy. It’s so great to hear your voice again.

Ditto.

Three heart beats later, Ruwen almost felt normal, and by the time Sift arrived, Ruwen had made it to his feet.

Sift wrapped Ruwen in a hug, and as the taste of maple syrup filled Ruwen’s mouth, he realized it must be the next day. He returned Sift’s hug and then Sift quickly stepped away, his cheeks pink.

“It’s good to see you,” Sift said.

“It’s been an interesting few hours.”

Sift raised his eyebrows. “It’s been three days.”

The rest of the Adepts arrived, talking excitedly and congratulating Ruwen. Echo stood at the edge of the group, her face neutral. Her Disposition Aura still whipsawed between red and pink.

Three days had passed, but as Ruwen considered his time in the seventh trial, he knew he would have accepted three years as an answer.

Prythus laughed. “All of us succeeded! Can you believe it?”

Everyone but Echo wore smiles, and Ruwen could feel their excitement.

“I do believe it,” Ruwen answered. “You have all worked hard and deserve the title of Master. Congratulations.” After a moment, he continued. “Why did you all wait?”

The Adepts looked confused. Nymthus spoke. “How could we not? You have made every one of us better, and if not for you, some of us would have died. We owe you far more than a brief wait by the sea.”

Many of the Adepts nodded their heads in agreement, and they all bowed to Ruwen, including Echo.

Humbled by the words, Ruwen returned their bow.

Conversations erupted everywhere as the Adepts discussed the next ceremony. Now that Ruwen had arrived, they could receive their black belts and new title.

“What took you so long?” Sift asked.

“How long did it take you?” Ruwen asked in return.

Sift shrugged. “I don’t know. Two or three…”

Sift squished his brow in thought, trying to decide.

“Two or three hours?” Ruwen prompted.

Sift frowned at Ruwen. “What? No. Seconds.”

“You did this in three seconds?” Ruwen asked as calmly as he could.

Sift shrugged. “I saw this massive light and when I stepped toward it, I fell out here. Just like you.”

Ruwen dropped into the third meditation, feeding it his emotions that ranged from burning rage to proud happiness.

“I bet you complicated it,” Sift said with a knowing nod.

“I did not,” Ruwen responded, probably a little too defensively. “It was already complicated. Like super complicated.”

“Okay, okay,” Sift said, holding up his hands. “It was already complicated.”

Ruwen sighed. “You were right, though. I had what I needed to succeed.”

Sift grabbed Ruwen’s shoulder. “I never doubted it.”

“Thanks,” Ruwen said. “I’m lucky you always have my back.”

The maple syrup taste faded.

“Of course, we’re a team,” Sift replied.

Ruwen turned his attention to what had caused the Adepts to grow suddenly silent.

The Founders had exited a group of rocks, probably another route down to the beach, and strode toward the Adepts. The Adepts organized themselves into Rungs and watched excitedly as the Founders approached.

“I’ve dreamed about this ceremony since I was little,” Sift said. “Master Sift. Soon to be Grandmaster Sift. You’ll see.”

Ruwen remembered the conversation he’d had with the Founders before entering the seventh trial. They approached not to start a Master’s ceremony, but to pass judgement and strip Sift of everything he’d spent his life training for.

Emotions swirled inside Ruwen, but as he stood there, watching judgement approach, he noticed a difference in himself.

The trial had changed Ruwen somehow. He felt full. Not like when he’d eaten too much of Mom’s best breakfast, Survivor’s Guilt, but like he’d taken a really deep breath. Like his entire body had taken a deep breath and held it.

Ruwen didn’t want to draw attention to himself by throwing a punch or twisting into a kick. Instead, he rotated his right hand in a move called Bear Paw, hyper-focusing on the move used to break an enemy’s grip.

Ruwen had mastered physical balance long ago, and he centered himself automatically, not requiring any thought to find his body’s equilibrium. He repeated the move again, and then again. It felt the same, but different.

As the Founders reached the Adepts, Ruwen guessed at the change. Whatever balance he’d attained in the seventh step had resulted in an ability to feel his inner state for the first time. What had been empty before now had substance, and it pushed outward, balancing against the pressure of his physical body.

It didn’t make Ruwen lighter or faster, but it made his movements completely effortless. He worried about such a change so close to the insane plan he was about to implement. He couldn’t control the timing however, so he let the worry go. His plan would either work or it wouldn’t, and he would know soon enough.

All three Founders studied Ruwen, and he guessed they desperately wished to know how he had overcome the seventh trial, but he remained silent. Perhaps some time in the future, assuming he survived his plan, he would explain. After the frustration had passed with the traditions and rules meant for times of peace, not war.

Ruwen had hoped this day wouldn’t come, but he had prepared for it. He had planned and practiced his solutions since the day Kysandra had told him the risks of his actions in the underwater safe house near Legion’s Vault.

“Congratulations, Adepts,” Mist said.

“Before the ceremony,” Thorn said. “We must address Clan business.”

Ruwen let out the breath he held and strode forward.

“Two—” Dusk started and then stopped as she noticed Ruwen’s movement.

The Adepts all turned and watched Ruwen march forward.

A memory surfaced and Ruwen smiled. It came from his first trip to the Black Pyramid. Sift and Ruwen had stood near the top of the Black Pyramid watching the massive storm Ruwen had created by Harvesting with his Core for the first time.

Sift held out his fist, and Ruwen stared at it.

“You put your hand on it, palm down. It’s a Clan shortcut, so we don’t always have to bow to each other,” Sift said.

“What happens if we both put our fist out?”

“Look at the over-thinker at work. If that happens, the lower-ranked member changes to the palm. If they don’t, that means they want to challenge you and try to advance in rank.”

“Okay, so I’m basically always palm.”

“Yes, probably for the rest of your life.”

“Thanks.”

Ruwen placed his open hand over Sift’s fist.

Ruwen returned to the present as he approached the Founders. The three sisters stood near each other, and they studied him. He had changed considerably since they had all met that first day of his Journeyman test. Slapping him would require a lot more effort now.

Stopping in front of the Founders, Ruwen bowed.

The Founders bowed in return.

“What is it, Adept?” Dusk asked.

Ruwen made a fist and slowly extended it toward the Founders.

“Oh, no,” Sift said, clearly audible in the sudden silence.

The Founders stared at Ruwen’s outstretched fist.

Dusk stepped forward and stretched out her fist as well, stopping an inch from Ruwen’s.

They stood that way, gazes locked.

Twenty seconds passed.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” Dusk asked.

“What I need to,” Ruwen replied.

“Are you seriously challenging me for the rank of Founder?”

Ruwen didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”