Divine Apostasy Book 7 - Chapter 9

Chapter 9

The Adepts assembled before the pillar, grouped together in their Rungs, and Ruwen and Sift stood behind Rung Four. Their disposition toward Ruwen had returned to a deep green, their confusion in the tower long forgotten. The townsfolk had cleared the courtyard but stood bunched together around the outskirts.

The three Founders left the tent and strode to the pillar, Madda and Padda behind them. All of them wore traditional fighting attire. Bare feet, white loose pants and a jacket that overlapped across their torso. A black belt wrapped around their waists and kept everything in place. The knots on the Founder’s belts appeared complex, and Thorn and Mist had ten thin white stripes near the end of their belts, and the Addas did as well. Dusk’s belt had none.

Stalks of bamboo were stitched on the left side of Mist and Padda’s jacket, the plants sewed in incredible detail. A small red viper weaved its way through the shoots, hidden by all the bamboo.

Thorn and Madda’s jacket had a large red viper, its fangs bared and ready to strike. It coiled around a single small stalk of Bamboo. The eyes of the viper followed Ruwen as the group made its way to the pillar.

The right side of Mist’s jacket contained a fist sized green circle surrounding an open hand. Thorn had a red circle holding a fist, and Dusk’s jacket had no designs at all.

The Founders stopped in front of the pillar and Madda stood behind Thorn, Padda behind Mist.

Dusk spoke. “Adepts, today you have taken your first step toward Mastery. Congratulations to Rung Four for retrieving the first token. It ends our time here. Rung Four, approach for recognition.”

Prythus moved toward Dusk and the rest of Rung Four filed behind him.

“Aren’t you going?” Sift asked Ruwen.

“I’m not sure. I’m worried I have too much stuff already.”

“You definitely do. You’re like a walking junkyard.”

“I don’t keep junk.”

Sift shook his head. “You and Hamma can open a secondhand store with the stuff you carry.”

Sift nibbled at a carrot and looked thoughtful, as if studying the flavor.

Ruwen smiled. “Careful, your body won’t know what to do with a vegetable.”

“Very funny,” Sift replied as he held the carrot near his hip. Shelly poked her head out from Sift’s pocket, chomped down, and pulled the carrot from his hand.

“Hey! Settle down, Shelly. You almost got my finger.”

Ruwen laughed and turned his attention back to Rung Four.

When the last of the original Group Four received their tokens, Dusk held one more. Ruwen moved forward, not because he wanted the token, but because he didn’t want to show disrespect to whatever this ceremony meant.

Ruwen stopped in front of Dusk and bowed deeply to the Founder. When he stood, Dusk regarded him for a moment before handing him the token. He bowed again and quickly strode back to Sift. Once there, he studied his reward.

Someone had carved the roughly circular token from a type of red tree, and the item fit in the palm of Ruwen’s hand. It had a pinky sized hole in the middle and scratches across the surface. After a moment, he realized the scratches represented the trees of a forest. He stopped himself from Analyzing it, again not sure about the rules for using his magic here. It didn’t appear valuable at all.

“Quartermaster,” Dusk said.

The crowd to Ruwen’s right parted, revealing a bald man sitting at a table. He wore the same traditional gear as the other leaders. He finished his drink and pushed himself off his chair as if he weighed a thousand pounds. Ruwen had the urge to run over and help the man stand.

The Quartermaster, who Ruwen could now see looked a thousand years old, moved slowly through the crowd and into the courtyard. Eventually he made it to the Founders, and he bowed.

“Thank you for rushing,” Dusk said.

The Quartermaster rubbed the small of his back. “You’re welcome, Sisen. Such a large group requires a lot of work.”

“Dawn approaches the Red Forest,” Dusk said. “Prepare them.”

The Quartermaster bowed and pulled a small shoot of bamboo from inside his jacket. With a practiced throw, he flicked it at the ground. It struck the dirt with an audible thump and Last Breath triggered as a mass of tree exploded outward from the shoot. Ruwen watched in fascination as long stalks of bamboo expanded outward. In a blink, the town disappeared, although he could still hear the townspeople’s heartbeats.

The Adepts now stood in a small clearing surrounded by bamboo. The long stalks swayed as if blown by an invisible wind.

“Line up,” the Quartermaster said.

Echo jumped to the front of the line and strode to the Quartermaster. The Quartermaster looked her up and down and shouted over his shoulder. “Medium, lean, short.”

A moment later, a viper slithered out from the bamboo, a square of white clothes balanced on its head. The Quartermaster grabbed it and handed the pile to Echo. “Change into these.”

Ruwen’s skin flushed as realized they were receiving traditional Bamboo Viper fighting attire.

The line moved quickly and two minutes later Ruwen stepped up to the Quartermaster.

The Quartermaster scanned Ruwen and yelled. “Large, athletic, tall.”

A viper that reminded Ruwen of the ones during his first trial slithered out from the bamboo, a set of clothes balanced on its head. He carefully grabbed it, memories of the leaping snakes making him cautious.

Ruwen moved over next to Sift and stripped off his black clothes. The new cloth felt thick, and a little rough, but it weighed very little. He ran his hand over it, feeling like he’d finally become one of the martial fighting masters from the books in the library.

Sift handed Ruwen his bunched-up Cultivator robes. Blapy had given Sift the robes right before he’d left the Black Pyramid for the first time. They provided no protection and allowed all forms of energy to pass through, allowing a Cultivator to absorb as much energy as possible. He’d worn them nonstop since then.

Ruwen stepped away. “When was the last time those things were washed?”

“They don’t need washed. Nothing sticks to them.”

“That is really gross.”

“Just open your arm thingy and I’ll drop them in. You can give them back later.”

Ruwen grimaced.

“Seriously?” Sift asked. “How many dead bodies have you had in there? How many are still in there?”

Ruwen raised his hands. “Quiet down. Fine, I guess that’s true.”

Ruwen opened his Void Band with a thought and Sift dropped his shirt, pants, and shoes. Ruwen added his own clothes, and they both dressed in their new attire.

“You look good,” Ruwen said to Sift.

Sift rubbed the jacket, smoothing invisible wrinkles. They had both tied their white belts in simple knots, not knowing the proper method.

“Thanks,” Sift replied. “You, too. Almost like a real Step fighter.”

Ruwen smiled, and they faced the front as Mist spoke.

“Adepts, in a moment, we will teach you the proper way to knot your belts. We will begin with Rung Four to allow more time to study the available Clan relics.”

Thorn continued. “You have completed the first area here. These moments are opportunities to reflect on what the Steps have taught you.”

“Between these areas,” Dusk said. “You will battle on Savage Island against the other Step Clans, powerful Mages, and Beasts both primal and sentient. The island will test your skills and provide an opportunity to gain honor and relics for the Clan. We will transition to Savage Island shortly.”

As the Founders moved amid Rung Four, Ruwen turned to Sift. “Have you ever heard of Savage Island?”

“No, but it sounds fun.”

“It is not fun,” Madda said, striding up to them.

Madda pulled at Sift’s belt. “Seriously, child, this isn’t even a knot.”

Padda stood in front of Ruwen and untied the white belt. “Many die on the island. The objective is to survive.”

“Watch,” Madda said.

Ruwen stood behind Sift and looked over his shoulder. Madda slowly tied the belt around Sift’s waist, and Ruwen respected how she could do this effectively backward. She undid the knot and tied it again. He stepped backward and repeated the process, pleased that the knot resembled the ones on the Addas’ black belts.

“What are the relics the Founders mentioned?” Ruwen asked.

“They come from the island,” Padda said. “They are items imbued with power either from their owner’s death or because of the close proximity of powerful magic.”

Madda continued. “Some Clans measure their power by such artifacts. They poorly train hundreds in their Steps, and then sacrifice them to gain more relics.”

Ruwen held up his token. “The Founders said something about relics.”

Padda nodded. “Shortly the Quartermaster will display the Clan’s relics. You can exchange that token for one.”

“Don’t misunderstand,” Madda said. “The Bamboo Viper Clan only wants to harden our Adepts. We focus on quality of practitioners, not quantity of relics, and the island is nothing more than training for us.”

“What do you get if you win?” Sift asked.

“What do you mean, win?” Padda asked.

“Well, there must be some purpose,” Sift said. “What is everyone fighting over?”

“The point is nonsense,” Padda said. “A meaningless title.”

Madda jerked on Sift’s belt. “The Champion’s Throne is not your purpose. Surviving is.”

Madda and Padda left to help teach the other rungs.

Sift turned to Ruwen, his eyes gleaming, and whispered a single word. “Champion.”