Cultivation is Creation-Chapter 257: Azure’s Candidate Analysis: Selection Edition

The Grand Pavilion lived up to its name. Soaring blue crystal columns supported a domed ceiling that seemed to capture the rays of the blue sun, creating an ethereal glow throughout the chamber. Six places had been set at the circular table, each marked with an elegant nameplate. Mine, I noted with some amusement, simply read "Tomas" while the others bore full titles and family names.

I arrived precisely at sunset as instructed, wearing the formal blue robes with silver trim that had indeed been provided in my quarters. They were finer than anything Tomas had ever worn in his life, softer than silk yet somehow substantial.

Aric was already present, engaged in polite conversation with an older student, perhaps in his late twenties, whose nameplate identified him as "Lord Dorian Velaris, House Velaris."

The contrast between them was striking. Where Aric was golden-haired and relaxed, Dorian was dark-haired and severe, with sharp features and calculating eyes that immediately assessed me as I entered.

"Ah, our village prodigy arrives," Dorian remarked, his tone making it unclear whether this was a compliment or mockery.

Aric nodded in greeting. "Tomas, welcome. You've met Lord Velaris?"

"I haven't had the pleasure," I replied with a small bow.

Dorian didn't bother returning the gesture. "House Velaris has produced three Saints in the last five thousand years," he stated flatly. "My aunt is currently on the Elder Council."

"That's... impressive," I offered, unsure what response he expected.

Before Dorian could continue his boasting, the pavilion doors opened again, and Lady Laelyn entered. She wore formal robes of deep blue with silver and white accents, her hair arranged in an elegant style that emphasized her delicate features.

"Good evening," she greeted everyone with a polite smile, her eyes lingering momentarily on me before she addressed the room. "I apologize if I'm late."

"Not at all, Lady Vareyn," Aric replied warmly. "We're still awaiting two others."

I noticed how Dorian straightened his posture as Laelyn approached, his expression shifting to something more approachable, even charming. "Lady Vareyn, a pleasure as always. Please, allow me to—"

But Laelyn had already moved toward the seat next to mine, settling there with a small nod of acknowledgment. "Tomas, I'm glad to see you've found your way. The academy can be quite the maze for newcomers."

Dorian's smile froze momentarily before he recovered, taking a seat across from us rather than his original position.

"The Grand Pavilion is magnificent," I said to Laelyn, genuinely impressed by the architecture. "Nothing in Porvale compares to this."

She smiled. "It can be overwhelming at first. I remember my first visit to the academy back when I was a child, I spent the entire day looking up at the ceilings instead of watching where I was going."

Before our conversation could continue, the pavilion doors opened again and a short, muscular young man with a shaved head and multiple blue tattoos visible at his collar and wrists, walked in.

"Bren Heart," he announced gruffly, taking his seat without ceremony. "Stone Haven Monastery."

From what little I could gather from the others, the monastery was located in the far northern territories, known for its ascetic practices and warrior monks who combined martial arts with Lightweaver techniques. They rarely sent candidates to the Selection.

The final candidate to arrive was a young woman perhaps my age, with honey-blonde hair arranged in elaborate braids and green eyes. Unlike the others, who projected various degrees of solemnity, she practically bounced into the room.

"Hello everyone!" she beamed. "I'm Amira Dawn, House Dawn. So excited to meet you all, especially you, Tomas! Everyone's talking about you; the village boy who stunned Elder Sorrin. Was it true the Cerulean Orb actually sang when you touched it? I heard it from one of the acolytes who was there."

I blinked at the torrent of words. "It did make a sound," I admitted. "Though I wouldn't call it singing exactly."

"Still remarkable!" she exclaimed, taking the seat beside Aric, her gaze darting between me and Laelyn with obvious curiosity. "And Lady Vareyn! I heard you two traveled together. How fortunate that you both ended up as candidates!"

The dinner proceeded with the formal stiffness one might expect from a gathering of competitors before such a life-changing event. Servants brought course after course of exquisite food, blue-tinged bread that tasted of moonlight, fish that seemed to glow from within, fruits I'd never even encountered before.

The conversation drifted toward our respective training methods, with each candidate carefully avoiding specifics while trying to gauge the others' capabilities.

"House Dawn has always favored song as our medium," Amira offered cheerfully. "My mother says I started humming melodies before I could talk!"

Bren snorted. "Too much noise. At Stone Haven, we train the body and spirit together. Channeling happens through motion and stillness in perfect balance."

"House Velaris has always excelled at painting," Dorian stated proudly. "Our family gallery contains works created by five generations of Lightweavers. My grandfather's masterwork still actively purifies the entire eastern wing of our estate."

"And what method do you favor, Lady Vareyn?" Amira asked, turning those inquisitive eyes on Laelyn.

"My family has traditionally practiced calligraphy," Laelyn replied with a modest smile. "The discipline of the brush helps focus the mind."

"An excellent tradition," Dorian said, leaning forward slightly. "I've heard the Vareyn ancestral scripts were once renowned throughout the eastern territories."

I caught the slight tightening around Laelyn's eyes at his use of "were." House Vareyn's decline was apparently a sensitive topic.

"And what method do you favor, Tomas?" Amira asked, turning to me.

"Professor Thara hasn’t started teaching me any specific techniques yet, but I chose painting."

"Thara?" Dorian's eyebrows rose. "They assigned you to that eccentric? Interesting choice."

"I find her to be an excellent teacher," I replied evenly.

"You share a medium with Lord Velaris, then," Laelyn observed. "Perhaps you two have more in common than might first appear."

Dorian's expression suggested he found the comparison distasteful, but he masked it quickly. "Perhaps. Though there's quite a difference between decades of family tradition and... recent introduction."

The conversation continued in this vein throughout dinner, polite on the surface but layered with subtle assessments and occasional barbs. I noticed how Dorian continually tried to engage Laelyn in private conversation, only to be thwarted by her polite but firm redirection to include the entire table.

"It seems Lord Velaris has a particular interest in House Vareyn," I commented quietly to Laelyn as the dessert course was served.

She sighed softly. "House Velaris has been pursuing an alliance with my family for generations. Their interest has only increased as our fortunes have waned, they see an opportunity to absorb what remains of our legacy while the price is relatively low."

"That sounds... calculating," I observed.

"It's simply how noble politics work," she replied, a hint of sadness in her voice. "My grandmother used to say that in the Blue Sun territories, marriages are arranged with the same precision as military campaigns."

"And what do you think of such arrangements?" I asked, genuinely curious.

She glanced at me with a slight smile. "I think there's wisdom in looking beyond bloodlines and ancient names. The blue sun's light shines equally on all, but not all have eyes to see it properly."

After dinner concluded with traditional blessings from an academy elder, the candidates began to disperse to their respective quarters. Dorian made one final attempt to secure Laelyn's company, offering to escort her to her pavilion, but she declined politely.

"Actually, Tomas and I have some catching up to do," she said smoothly. "We'll walk together."

Dorian's expression darkened momentarily before he mastered it. "Of course. Until tomorrow, then, Lady Vareyn." He bowed formally before departing, casting a final appraising look at me that held neither warmth nor goodwill.

"That wasn't entirely necessary," I said as Laelyn and I stepped into the garden path that connected the pavilions. "I don't wish to make enemies before the Selection even begins."

"Lord Velaris would consider you an enemy regardless," she replied pragmatically. "You represent something he cannot comprehend, merit without lineage. It challenges his entire worldview."

That sounded about right, he did seem to have some personal vendetta against me.

“Any ideas on which one of them tried to assassinate you?” I asked, choosing to change the subject.

Laelyn was quiet for a moment before she finally shook her head. “Too difficult to determine, it’s usually the one you suspect the least.”

She wasn’t wrong. That is how these situations turned out

"How are you faring with all this?" Laelyn asked. "This must be overwhelming, the academy, the Selection, competing against candidates who've trained their entire lives."

I allowed some of my genuine uncertainty to show. "It's been... educational. Everyone has been surprisingly accommodating, given my unconventional background."

"To your face, perhaps," she said with a slight smile. "I've heard whispers in the corridors. Some are outraged that a villager would dare compete for sainthood, while others see your selection by the orb as proof that the blue sun's favor transcends human hierarchies."

"Well, there’s nothing much I can do about that,” I shrugged.

When we reached my pavilion, Laelyn hesitated.

"Whatever happens at the Selection," she said earnestly, "know that meeting you has been... significant to me, Tomas. In a world of carefully calculated alliances and ancient grudges, finding someone who sees beyond those constraints is rare."

She reached out impulsively and squeezed my hand, her touch lingering perhaps a moment longer than propriety would suggest.

"I should return to my quarters," she said, withdrawing her hand, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. "The hour grows late, and we all need rest before tomorrow's preparations."

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I entered my pavilion and began to prepare for bed, that was until Azure informed me of what he got up to throughout the evening.

"Master, I've taken the liberty of creating comprehensive profiles of your competition.”

"Is that really necessary?" I replied. "I already have a good sense of them."

"You were busy playing the humble villager and managing Dorian's glares," Azure countered. "I had nothing better to do during dinner than analyze everyone. Thought you might appreciate a second perspective."

"Go on then, let's see these profiles of yours."

AZURE'S CANDIDATE ANALYSIS: SELECTION EDITION

(1) ARIC LEMINOV

CLASS: Privileged Noble With Actual Manners

FACTION: Probably moderate Blue Sun traditionalist

COMBAT STYLE: Painting (my guess)

SPECIAL ABILITY: Being wealthy without being a complete ass about it

ANALYSIS: Either this guy is genuinely kind despite being born with a silver spoon, or he's playing a very long game. Servants practically trip over themselves to help him, so his family clearly has pull. Doesn't seem overly desperate to win nor is he doing that false modesty thing nobles love. Hard to get a read on him precisely because he seems straightforward, which makes him dangerous. Genuine people are unpredictable.

RECOMMENDATION: Keep him at arm's length. Nice people have this annoying habit of making you care about them, which complicates things when you're lying about your entire existence.

(2) DORIAN VELARIS

CLASS: Walking Noble Stereotype

FACTION: Hardcore Blue Sun traditionalist, probably burns heretics for fun

COMBAT STYLE: Painting, supposedly from a "distinguished lineage"

SPECIAL ABILITY: Making everything about his family's achievements

ANALYSIS: If you looked up "entitled nobleman" in a dictionary, you'd find this guy's portrait. Selection is his birthright because his great-aunt's cousin's dog once sniffed a former Saint. Never misses a chance to remind everyone of the social hierarchy with him firmly at the top. Spent dinner mentally undressing Laelyn while verbally undressing his family tree.

RECOMMENDATION: Easy to manipulate. Just tell him his hair looks nice and that you've heard wonderful things about House Velaris, then watch him preen while you do whatever you want in the background.

(3) LADY LAELYN VAREYN

CLASS: Declining Noble With Actual Substance

FACTION: One of those Reunificationist types

COMBAT STYLE: Calligraphy

SPECIAL ABILITY: Grace under financial pressure

ANALYSIS: Actually intelligent and emotionally aware, which makes her a unicorn among nobles. Speaks like she means what she says, which is confusing and refreshing. Never mentioned her family's glory days or current troubles, unlike some people (looking at you, Dorian). Seems genuinely interested in you, which is either a clever ploy or actual attraction. Both are complicated in different ways.

RECOMMENDATION: Caution advised. She could be a valuable ally, but there's the whole "she's developing feelings for someone who doesn't actually exist" problem. Also, you might be developing feelings back, which is a whole other mess I'm not equipped to handle.

(4) BREN HEART

CLASS: Warrior Monk

FACTION: Stone Haven Monastery (those mountain hermits)

COMBAT STYLE: Punching things, probably

SPECIAL ABILITY: Converting complex thoughts into grunts

ANALYSIS: About as comfortable at a formal dinner as a fish in a tree. Ate like someone might steal his food if he slowed down. Hands look like he breaks rocks for fun. Definitely hasn't spent much time in polite society, which might be refreshing if he bothered to speak more than three words at a time.

RECOMMENDATION: Avoid any physical confrontation. In conversation, just nod occasionally and he'll think you're having a great chat.

(5) MIRA DAWN

CLASS: Deceptive Extrovert

FACTION: House Dawn (moderates with good PR)

COMBAT STYLE: Singing, apparently

SPECIAL ABILITY: Getting you to tell your life story while revealing nothing about herself

ANALYSIS: Don't let the bubbly personality fool you. She's sharper than she lets on. All those excited questions? She gathered more information about everyone else while sharing almost nothing about herself. Classic intelligence-gathering disguised as friendly chatter.

RECOMMENDATION: Watch what you say around her. She's cataloging everything for later use. Those who appear harmless rarely are.

I stared at the analysis for several long moments before bursting out laughing.

"'Special Ability: Making everything about his family's achievements'?" I quoted. "And you counted how many times Dorian stared at Laelyn during dinner?"

"Forty-two times in ninety-four minutes," Azure confirmed. "Though three of those might have been him admiring his own reflection in her wine glass."

I snorted, then quickly composed myself. "And Bren's special ability is 'Converting complex thoughts into grunts'?"

"Tell me I'm wrong," Azure challenged.

"You're not wrong," I admitted. "That's what makes it funny. I didn't realize you had such strong opinions about everyone."

"I observe. I analyze. I judge," Azure said simply. "There’s really not much else for me to do until your inner world is more developed.”

I shook my head, but found I was still smiling. "Your analysis isn't wrong, you know. Though perhaps a bit harsh in places." I paused, thinking particularly about the assessment of Laelyn. "The complications you noted regarding Lady Vareyn... that's becoming increasingly relevant."

"It's a mess," Azure agreed, his tone shifting to something more serious. "She's useful as an ally, certainly, but she's developing feelings for someone who doesn't exist. And you seem to be developing feelings back, which is... problematic."

"In human terms, you're saying that feelings complicate things."

"Feelings always complicate things," Azure said. "That's practically their purpose."

“I agree,” I sighed, closing my eyes.

***

The next two days passed in a monotonous cycle of meditation and preparation. I spent most of my time in the Aspirants' Meditation Hall, gradually working my way higher up the concentric rings as my supposed tolerance for blue sun energy increased. In reality, I was carefully calibrating exactly how much energy I could channel without drawing excessive attention.

Between meditation sessions, I explored the academy grounds, particularly the library, hoping to find more specific information about the Selection process.

The public sections contained only vague references to "the candidate whose vessel proves most worthy" and "the blue sun's divine judgment." Unfortunately, I had no luck gaining access to the restricted section, no surprise there.

Professor Thara was similarly unhelpful, though I suspected this was due to lack of knowledge rather than deliberate obfuscation. As someone not directly involved in the Selection's inner workings, she could only repeat the same general information available in the academy's public materials.

"The Selection is ultimately a mystery," she explained during our final preparation session. "Deliberately so. If candidates knew exactly what to expect, they might train specifically for those parameters rather than developing true resonance with the blue sun."

"But surely there are records from previous Selections?" I pressed. "Statistics, observations, patterns?"

She adjusted her spectacles. "Any such records would be restricted to the Elders and current Saint only. The Selection is considered sacred, the blue sun's direct intervention in choosing its voice among humanity."

Great. So, I'd be going in blind, with no clear strategy beyond trying to control my energy absorption.

What troubled me most was the memory of the Cerulean Orb's reaction. I had intended to release just enough blue sun energy to register a modest positive response, but instead, the orb had latched onto my inner world's blue sun and actively drawn out far more energy than I'd meant to reveal.

If the Selection involved a similar mechanism, some way for the blue sun to directly interface with a candidate's inner energy, then controlling my performance might prove impossible.

Being selected as Saint would be disastrous. It would place me under constant scrutiny from the highest levels of the Blue Sun hierarchy, including Kal, the time-looping Rank 8 Lightweaver who would immediately recognize me as an anomaly in his carefully monitored timeline.

***

On the morning of the Selection, I performed a final meditation session, then bathed and dressed in the ceremonial robes that had been delivered the previous evening.

The garments were magnificent, deepest blue with silver and white embroidery depicting the phases of this world's moons circling around abstract representations of the blue sun. The fabric seemed to capture and amplify even the faintest light, giving the impression that the wearer was surrounded by a subtle aura.

As I fastened the final clasp, a soft knock sounded at my door.

"Candidate Tomas," came the voice of an acolyte. "The hour approaches. All candidates are to assemble at the base of the entrance to the Cerulean Spire."

I took a deep breath, centering myself.

Whatever happened today, I was as prepared as I could be.

"I'm ready," I called back, though I was anything but.

Opening the door, I stepped into the cool morning air and made my way to where the other five candidates were already gathering, their faces showing varying degrees of nervousness, excitement, and determination.

Today, one of us would be chosen as Saint.

I desperately hoped it wouldn't be me.