"A CULTIVATOR?!"
Runt's voice cracked the air like a whip, his eyes wide as dinner plates
"So does that mean that you saw it?"
Uriel looked at Runt in confusion, then realized what he meant by his words.
"Yes, Runt. If you're referring to the Structure, then yes, I saw it. And let me tell you—each and every moment after seeing it was hell."
Runt looked excited at the prospect of being able to ask a cultivator questions.
"So what happened?! What was your first trial? Did you have to swim in lava or fight a hundred monsters or maybe save a damsel in distress?!"
Uriel lifted up his hand, clenched it into a fist, and smacked Runt over the head.
"Why do you talk so damn loud?!"
"And no, it was none of that. I had to run for days, survive a beast called a Stalker, survive the harsh poisoned lands, hide in a dead monster's body... and I had to fight a monster in a burning fire. It was hell brought to life."
Runt was reeling on the floor, grabbing at his head while listening to Uriel speak about his hardship in the trials.
"Listen, Runt, I'll tell you all about what happened in the trials in more detail later, but for now I need to ask you something important. It's been worrying me since I came back."
Runt got up from his laying position and sat criss-cross on the floor, waiting to see what Uriel would say next.
"What happened to the people of the slums? There used to be more people around, and now I barely see anyone whatsoever."
Runt stood up after hearing what Uriel said and asked him to follow. Uriel understood he would get his answer if he followed Runt, so he did. When Runt and Uriel went outside, Runt pointed north.
"There's a Seer that's been telling people their fate in the cleaner parts of Vesperhaven, in a rundown church. They say he's always right about everything he says, and he's very cheap too—only three copper."
Uriel stood there looking north for a while and thought to himself, Maybe he can tell me about what will happen to me now that I have this second core inside me?
Uriel worried about this second core because it was unheard of—having a second core. It was always one core that evolved throughout each trial, not two.
Uriel looked down at Runt and asked him for a favor—more like a demand.
"Hey Runt, give me three copper."
Runt angrily screamed at Uriel.
"YOU THINK I'M MADE OF MONEY?!"
"Come on, I'll pay you back. Just give me the money, I really need to see this Seer person."
"NO. NO. NOOOOOOOOO!"
Uriel bent down and got in front of Runt's face.
"JUST GIVE ME THE MONEY, COME ON, I'M GOOD FOR IT!"
"NO MEANS NO, YOU GREEDY FUCK!"
"Oh, so I'm greedy now?! Last I recall, you took all my rations last winter and I almost died!"
Runt tiptoed up to get closer to Uriel's face and screamed even louder.
"I ALREADY SAID I WAS SORRY ABOUT THAT, BUT YOU KEEP BRINGING IT UP!"
Uriel just kept staring at him.
"Damn it—fine. Here, here! Take the damn money. But you better not come back here till you bring me three times the damn amount!"
Runt reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of copper, handing Uriel three coins.
"Thank you, Runt. I'll be sure to pay you back!"
Uriel said this while running north.
"I don't care if you're a cultivator now! If you don't bring me my money, I'll find you!"
Runt smiled while saying this. He didn't mind giving his friend money—he just wanted to spend a few more moments bickering before Uriel left. And Uriel knew this.
Uriel kept running north. He was faster than any human being could possibly be. He was at peak human capability. He made a trip that should've taken five hours in thirty minutes.
After running for thirty minutes, he reached a place that looked cleaner and brighter than the slums he was in. It was still rundown, but nothing compared to where he had come from.
He saw the rundown church—and a huge line stretching at least three miles long.
Uriel may have been more powerful now, but that didn't exempt him from waiting in a line.
Three hours passed, and Uriel finally made it to the front of the line. There were still ten people in front of him. The doors were wide open, only being shut when the next person went in.
But then the Seer turned his face Uriel's way.
The Seer was wearing a pure white clergy robe. There was no dirt on it whatsoever—even in this filthy place. He had black hair, seemed to be in his twenties, and wore a blue blindfold while sitting in a chair that wasn't built for comfort—iron-rimmed wheels, thick with rust, meant to help the user move around.
It looked like the Seer was looking at Uriel, but he was wearing a blindfold. Uriel thought to himself that he couldn't be looking at him—until the seer pointed and asked him to come.
"You with the white hair—come here."
Everyone in the front turned around, looking at Uriel, wondering why the seer was ignoring the ten people in front of him.
That's when a man two people ahead of Uriel spoke up. He looked to have greying hair and to be in his fifties, with ragged clothes like everyone else here.
"Hey! What is this bullshit?! I woke up early to be here and waited hours so I can speak to you—and this kid gets to skip in front!?"
The man looked angry and was getting ready to go up and attack the Seer. But that's when the Seer lifted his hand—and the man fainted.
This shocked Uriel, making him think the Seer might also be a cultivator.
"Please don't cause a ruckus when near the church. Now, please come in, young man."
Uriel walked into the church, and the doors closed by themselves behind him.
Uriel thought this was all weird. He wondered why the Seer picked him the second his face turned his way, and how he had seen him in the first place.
Uriel waited for the man to speak—but he didn't. So Uriel spoke up first.
"So, um... why did you pick me to come in? There were only ten people in front of me."
The Seer began to move. He brought his hand to the back of his head and started to untie his headband.
His eyes were a purplish-blue. Uriel was shocked—he'd never seen anyone's eyes look like that. There was no white in them at all.
Then, the Seer finally spoke.
"I can see people's fate with these eyes of mine. I make a living off of them, only asking for three copper per visit. I've seen tens of thousands of fates. Some end in sadness, some in joy, most a mix of both. But people never like hearing the bad parts of their fate."
"They say things like, 'I can change it,' or 'I'm different.' It's funny, really. Because they can't. No matter how hard they try."
"So, I just tell people a part of their fate. For example—if they're going to die in the winter, I tell them they'll meet the love of their life before the winter. It's not a lie... just not the whole truth."
"That way, they can leave happy—and not worry about useless things like trying to change fate."
Uriel looked confused. Why was the Seer telling him all this? What did he get out of it?
"Why are you telling me this?"
The Seer looked straight at him with those purplish-blue eyes—and said one thing that would stick with Uriel forever.
"You, young man... have no fate whatsoever. Nothing controlling you. Nothing pushing you toward a certain direction in life."
"You are fateless."