[Severed Divinity] 55. Kelsina Femera

Isen let the world fall away. He let everything fall away. In his mind, he was back in the depths, back with Ros. The two of them were cycling together, reaching ever closer to eternity.

Then, suddenly, it was gone. He was falling. His body twisted and he caught himself on his hands, pushing himself to his feet as his eyes snapped open. The sudden drop in ambient energy was like a gut punch.

Someone had tossed him out of the cultivation chamber.

There were half elves all around him—adults. Warriors who’d been drilling in the main circle. Training must have ended. They were all looking his way, attracted by the commotion.

“Who are you?” one elf asked, his green eyes narrowed beneath ebony brows.

“Isen.”

“He’s the new recruit,” one of the others murmured.

The green-eyed elf’s expression softened. “You’re not supposed to be here—you might harm your cultivation.”

Isen crossed his arms. “You’re wrong.”

“What’s your rank?”

“E.”

The elf pointed to the top of the arch. “This is a D-rated chamber.”

“Then maybe I should be a D,” Isen said, a hint of challenge slipping through. He still didn’t understand the ranking system and how he fit into it. “There was no assessment—I was just assigned to E.”

Without waiting for a response, Isen headed back inside. There were now several elves sharing the space. A few gave him looks, but none moved to kick him out.

He cycled for hours. Only when someone tapped him on the shoulder did he stop.

“Kid, it’s late,” the woman said. Both eyes and hair were steel gray. Her face was severe, but still beautiful. There was a gravitas to her, a sense of focused power. If Jorin felt like a sheathed blade, she was a bared saber. “It’s a rest day.”

Isen just looked at her. The room was empty except for the two of them.

“You’re Welco’s diamond in the rough?”

Isen bowed his head.

“You shouldn’t be in this chamber. These louts tell you that?”

“I was warned,” Isen acknowledged. “I’m not trying to prove anything by being here. It feels…” He searched for the right words. “Perfect.”

She studied him. “Guess there’s always an exception.” She headed for the exit. “Regardless, you got class tomorrow. You’re done for the night.”

Isen followed her.

“What’re you called?” she asked halfway through the ascent. “Trying to wrack my brain but it’s not coming to me.”

“Isen.”

“Well met, Isen.” She directed a thumb at her chest. “The name’s Kelsina.” She flashed a toothy grin. “Kid, you’re supposed to kowtow to the primary.”

Isen stopped, his brow furrowing. As he bowed forward, she laughed and held out a hand. “Kidding. Other clans might require bullshit like that. Here, we’re more reasonable.” She offered her hand. Isen took it, and she clasped his fingers tight, shaking firmly. “Welcome to Clan Femera, Isen. The patriarch has a good eye. Makes me curious why he picked you up now, at a time like this.”

Isen didn’t know how he should respond. Should he say something cryptic alluding to the greater struggle at hand? Would that make her more interested or impressed with him, or suspicious? How much did she even know about the current situation?

He decided on silence.

“You eat?”

“Earlier,” Isen said. As a cultivator, he didn’t need much.

“Ugh. Kid. I see it in your expression. You think that just because you’re a tier two now, you get to skip meals. Yeah, no.” She shook her head and proceeded out of the passage, past the yawning mouth of the cultivation cave.

Night had descended on the clan. In the darkness, the tent structures were nearly invisible using mundane sight, at least with clouds blocking out the stars.

Kelsina’s tent was at the head of the clan, in the wave-shaped crest that topped the building where Isen had registered. Isen hadn’t even realized there was a door up there, but there it was, obscured by folds in the black fabric.

She leapt up with ease, balancing on the rigid fabric and pulling the flap open. Isen followed closely behind, though he needed to take an extra step in the middle, unable to leap the full distance.

The inside of Kelsina’s room wasn’t actually all that large, maybe twice the size of Isen’s, though it did connect to what looked like a full bathroom, like the kind he’d had in the hotel.

Kelsina walked over to a tall rectangle in the corner and slid its front panel aside, revealing an assortment of goods. She took out four containers and a carafe, sliding the door shut with her foot. She placed them on the counter, which was made of the same dark, red-flecked stone characterizing the cultivation cave, and removed the lids. Then, she grabbed two plates and spoons to serve.

“You ever had monster meat?”

Isen nodded.

“Ever had cooked monster meat?”

“No.”

She wore a lopsided smile as she spooned sauces onto her plate. Isen saw chunks of meat within. “With the right equipment and skills, monster meat can be treated to remove impurities, making it safe for consumption.”

“Why go through the effort?” While eating the divine bear’s blood had probably sped up Isen’s advancement somewhat, Ros seemed convinced that eating monsters didn’t directly accelerate cultivation speed.

“It’s supposed to help your foundation. Makes you stronger than others at your own tier.”

Isen wondered if that was why he felt more comfortable in the D-ranked cave. Still, he caught that she only said supposed to.

Kelsina arranged a neat mound of rice off to the side, serving as a counterweight to the three brightly colored sauces. She passed it to Isen, then quickly made her own plate. She grabbed two serving spoons and handed one over.

She pointed to the green sauce. “This is made with yulaki.” He didn’t recognize the word.

“What does that mean in common?”

She stared dumbly at him. “No idea. Water snake?”

Isen mentally translated it as eel.

Kelsina raised a spoon to her lips and paused. Isen matched her motion, and they both took a bite.

It had an unusual flavor, fishy and gamey. Strong herbs—parsley?—were dominant. It was cold, as though coming straight from an icebox.

The primary laughed. “Not your favorite? Alright, next one’s made from tier two chicken.” Seeing his doubtful expression, she launched into an explanation. “Sometimes a farm’ll come under attack by monsters. If any animals die and come back as monsters themselves, they’re fair game for hunters.” She paused, waiting for a reaction. Seeing none, she snorted to herself. “This chicken, though, was raised by the Vardas clan.”

This time, the taste was delectable, fatty and flavorful. “Doesn’t taste like monster.” Which must’ve been the point.

The last sauce was made from tier two leaves. It was plum-colored and earthy, with a pleasant bitterness. “How do you get monster plants?” Isen asked.

“Never said this was monster,” she replied. “S’made from the leaves of a liferoot. The root’s typically used for pills; the leaves taste good and would be thrown out, otherwise.”

He followed her lead in mixing the rice in the sauces. “Why shouldn’t I skip meals as a tier two?”

She leveled her gaze at him. “Cultivators are different from mages. We have bodies that strengthen over time as we advance. That’s good, generally, but can have unintended consequences.” She put down her spoon. “It’s a foundational teaching of the elves that maintaining routines of hygiene, food consumption, and social contact reduce what’s known as cultivation fatigue. Put simply, it’s the lack of will to keep going, to live. It’s why we set the clan up as we do, with the hot springs and showers, daily meals, and rooms all close to one another, even though it’d be easy to extend the clan grounds and space things out.”

Isen thought back to the depths again. No wonder he’d been satisfied there, if those three things were all it took.

They finished the rest of the meal in silence. Isen considered how he might ask about Kelsina’s latest mission outside the clan, but didn’t have a good feeling about any ideas that came to mind. She only saw him as a new recruit, a child—she would feed him euphemisms rather than cold truths. Revealing what he knew was an option, but he didn’t think now was the time and place.

When their plates were picked clean, Kelsina grabbed two glasses from a cabinet and poured the carafe, filling them with a pale yellow-brown fluid. Tea.

Isen took a sip; it was chilled like the food. “What are classes like?” Isen asked.

“Sometimes boring, but necessary,” she replied after a moment of thought. “The lessons have been passed down and refined through generations. Go in with an open mind.”

When the tea was finished, she gestured to the door. “You know the way back to your room?”

“Yeah.”

“Off you go, then,” she said. “Sleep isn’t directly tied to cultivation fatigue, but sleeping every night improves your ability to think.” She tapped her head. “Sleep well.”

“Thanks for the meal,” Isen said, “and the advice.” He opened the slit-like entrance, pulling the fabric away to reveal the deep night sky. Stars twinkled overhead like grains of white sand strewn with jewels.

The clouds had passed.

Isen jumped down.