Ashen Ascension: The Divided Flame-Chapter 46: What Is Destiny?

While Luna witnessed the changes unfolding around his suspended body, Ivor himself had already slipped beyond that world. He was no longer aware of the forest, nor of the pain, nor of the blows that had driven him into darkness. He existed somewhere else entirely, though at first he could not even recognize that he existed at all.

There was nothing around him. No sound reached his ears, no scent reached his nose, and no sensation touched his skin. The darkness was complete and absolute, stretching endlessly in every direction without boundary or depth, and within it he remained suspended in a state that was neither waking nor sleep.

Gradually, awareness returned to him, not as a sudden awakening but as a slow emergence.

His eyes fluttered and opened, though at first there was nothing to see. The darkness remained unchanged, vast and unmoving, offering no point of reference and no comfort.

He could not feel the ground beneath him, nor the air against his body, and for a time he simply remained there, conscious within the void, unable to determine how he had come to exist in such a place.

Then, somewhere far in the distance, a faint white light appeared.

It did not rush forward or flare into brilliance. Instead, it descended slowly, growing gradually brighter as it approached. Wherever its presence extended, the darkness did not resist but receded, dissolving as though it had never truly existed. The light revealed the world piece by piece.

He became aware that he was seated.

Soft grass lay beneath him, its blades cool against his fingers as he instinctively pressed his hand into it. He drew in a breath without realizing he had needed one, and with it came the scent of fresh earth, of living grass, and of clean water. The air itself carried a stillness unlike anything he had known before, untouched by the greyness of the Vladiric domain and the shrouded district.

When he lifted his head, he found himself beneath a sky of perfect clarity. Its blue expanse stretched overhead without cloud or imperfection, so pure that it seemed less like the sky of a natural world.

Before him lay a pond, its surface unnaturally clear, allowing him to see the small fish gliding through its depths in slow, effortless motion. The quiet beauty of the scene brought a small smile to his face, easing the tension that had once consumed his body.

It was only then that he noticed he was not alone.

An old man sat beside him upon the grass, close enough that he could have reached out and touched him.

His hair was white, and his beard fell long against his chest, giving him the appearance of someone who had lived far beyond ordinary years. His posture was relaxed, as though he had been there long before Ivor’s arrival. Between them rested a tree stump, and upon its surface lay small, carefully arranged piles of mana tokens. Seven of these piles had already been formed, positioned in a precise circular pattern.

The old man studied them in silence before speaking in a quiet, thoughtful voice.

"It seems this much should be enough to repay my debt."

He held two tokens in his hand, and with deliberate care he placed one of them upon the seventh pile, completing its shape. His fingers lingered there for a moment, as though weighing the significance of what he had done. His gaze remained fixed on the arrangement, his expression revealing neither satisfaction nor doubt.

"Or perhaps," he continued after a moment, his voice softer now, "I should do a little more."

Confusion stirred within Ivor as fragments of memory began to return. He remembered the forest. He remembered the blows that had struck him down. He remembered the darkness that had swallowed him. None of those memories explained how he had come to sit within this peaceful place beside a stranger who seemed entirely unconcerned with his presence.

He spoke cautiously.

"Sir?"

The old man did not respond. He did not turn his head or shift his posture. He simply reached forward and adjusted the placement of one of the tokens, his attention devoted entirely to the arrangement before him.

Ivor tried again.

"Sir. Where am I?"

Again, there was no response.

Ivor cleared his throat slightly, placed one hand on the stump, and spoke loudly.

"Can you hear me?"

This time, the old man’s hand paused, trembling slightly. His head snapped toward the pond as a ripple spread across its center.

For an instant, he remained perfectly still, as though something in the question had reached him after all.

When he blinked, his eyes changed. The calm, human gaze vanished, replaced by slitted pupils that gleamed faintly with amber light, carrying with them an ancient sharpness that did not belong to an ordinary man. His expression grew serious as he turned toward the tokens before him, as though seeing them in a new way.

Then he blinked once more, and the slitted pupils faded. His eyes returned to their former calm, and a slow smile formed upon his face.

"All right," he murmured quietly, his voice carrying a note of quiet wonder. "All right. All right."

He did not turn toward Ivor. His attention remained fixed upon the final token still resting in his hand. He rotated it gently between his fingers, studying it with the careful fascination of someone who had discovered something he had never expected to see.

"This," he said softly, "is unprecedented. Who would have thought? I certainly did not."

A low chuckle escaped him as he rotated the final token between his fingers, studying its surface as though it carried a meaning beyond its simple form.

Ivor opened his mouth, intending to speak again, but before he could form the words, the old man’s chuckle faded as abruptly as it had begun. His expression did not harden, yet the air around him seemed to grow heavier.

"There was a saying in my world," the old man began, his voice carrying the distant weight of memory, "that everyone is born with a destiny. That what you do in your life is written and ordained long before you take your first breath."

Ivor blinked in confusion. He turned his head slightly, scanning the empty grassland around them, wondering if there was someone else to whom the old man spoke. The pond remained still, the fish drifting beneath its surface, and the sky above remained unchanged. There was no one else.

He assumed, then, that the words were meant for him.

He placed his hands against the grass and attempted to stand, intending to move closer, to understand where he was and what this place meant. Yet the moment he tried to rise, he discovered that he could not. His body refused him. No matter how he willed it, no matter how he pushed against the ground, he remained seated exactly where he had been. His body simply did not respond.

The old man continued, his gaze never leaving the tokens. 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

"Everyone believed it," he said calmly. "They believed that their path was decided before they could ever walk it. That their fate was something given, not something earned."

His fingers moved slowly, adjusting one of the tokens by a fraction.

"But then there was my father."