"Are you going to tell me why you brought me here or keep drinking your tea?" Dean asked, as he eyed Isaac not afraid to show his frustration.

Isaac took another long sip as if mocking him then sighed. "You are not going to join me?"

"Join you? You dragged me here an hour ago saying we had to talk, yet you hardly said a word," Dean said hitting the table.

"Calm down Dean. This is exactly why I want you to drink some tea. Today’s events wer-"

Dean tightened his fist and hit the table again as he flared his qi. The wave spread and shattered the tea cup. "You want me to be calm in this situation? After what the council did? You are the sect leader for heaven's sake. You should be the one to control them. Not sit here and drink tea as if nothing is going on."

At the sudden outburst, Isaac dropped his tea and stood. "Dean, even if you have surpassed me in strength, you will respect me."

"Respect? You had it once. But recently, you’ve hardly earned it.” Dean said, standing. “You've been hiding, letting the council run the sect as they please. Today’s events just enhance that fact. You have to get it together, Isaac.

"Enough! You don't know the half of it. The sect is in a bad state. That's why I've been busy."

"I know that we are dwindling and the sect is going to ruin. But that is no reason to ignore what the Council did. Isaac, they used sect members for their own purpose. Isn't that against what the Oath stands for? The Founder created the Council to promote fairness and justice in the sect and they have thrown that away. So what, we got a decade or so before we crumble and are unable to sustain or raise any disciples, but that still shouldn’t make us go against our principles."

Isaac's expression twisted and he fell silent. Then, he walked to the teapot and poured more tea—overflowing his cup—as his hand ran through his hair.

What happened to him? Dean asked himself, as he noticed the trembling in Isaac's hand. He wasn't like this before...before Ian passed away... Something clicked inside him as he connected details.

Isaac had been the sect leader everyone wished for. He was involved in every decision and looked for the benefit of the sect and its members. And unlike the Council he cared—at least he had at some point. After Ian had requested the Council to give him permission to access the Founder's Chamber, he changed. The Council had called him for a meeting that went on for two days. When it was over, he gave his verdict to reject Ian’s request. After, he turned reclusive—locking himself for days in his room—leaving the Council in charge of everything.

"Isaac, Ian's death is in the past. It was the Council's fault. Not yours." Dean said, his heart pained a little—deep inside he blamed Isaac for Ian's fate, yet he kept repressing it. You could have said yes. Dean thought. That would have saved him.

"Ian's death was not anyone's fault, but his own." Isaac said, staring directly at him no longer trembling. "Let's face it. Ian was crazed for strength. It was his greed and pursuit for power—beyond that which he could control—that caused his untimely death. Unfortunately, that ended up affecting the sect far more than any of us could have imagined. That's the main reason why I called you here."

Dean could only stare blankly. His mind was in chaos—memories of Ian flashed in and out, specially the message he left within the formation inside him. You are wrong Isaac, he thought, firmly. I grew up with him, became his best friend and travelled with him early on. There’s no one that knew him better than me. Ian did pursue power, but he did it to protect those he cared about. The formations he left inside Kael and me only reinforces that.

In fact, that's why Dean had accepted to meet with Isaac; he wanted to explain that he cracked one of Ian's research. But Isaac's final words and what it insinuated changed his mind completely. Than we imagined...he repeated in his head as his body trembled. So they knew Ian would die. No. Why would they do that? The Oath would have punished the Council...they would have died.

"Y-you, wh-"

"Let me continue," Isaac yelled. "His death was the misfortune of the sect. Originally, we could have survived for another two decades, but after he died, the other sects began pressuring us. We did not foresee how far they would go to and in the end, we had to give up resources in order to prevent an attack—one that we couldn't defend or escape from. But that’s no longer true. With you at the Second Mending we can finally fight back. We already have the plan to get our resources—and more—back. The sect will live on and it will be your own accomplishment."

Dean let out a laugh. "After what you told me you still expect me to fight for the sect? You knew he would die and you let it happen? He was my friend, my brother. I thought this sect cared for us, but now I see how blind I’ve been. You bunch are as rotten and corrupt as the others. I should have left with Kael after Ian’s death like I had planned to. I shouldn't have hesitated."

"Dean," Isaac said, sighing. "I can't force you to help, but this is for the greater good. Believe me. The sect needs you.”

“Ian could have done a much better job.” Dean said, his body trembling and qi bubbling in his core. “But you let him die, even after all the contributions he made to the sect.”

“If we would have saved Ian by letting him enter the Founder's Chamber, he would have destroyed the sect and possibly the world. That power...is beyond his control. Only the one chosen by the Founder himself could accept his legacy."

Isaac walked to the wall, gathered qi on his index finger and started to draw complex runes. A blinding golden light and a click filled the small room as a door appeared.

Dean stared, trying to take in what he was told and had seen, but Isaac spoke, breaking his thought process.

"Normally, only members of the Council can enter. This is what they showed me during that long meeting and why I refused Ian. It’s also the reason why I spend my days like a hermit. I’ve been studying everything left by the Founder. As the situation is dire—and you currently being the strongest person in the entire sect—the Council has agreed to let you enter.

“Follow me. The reason why we couldn't let Ian into the Founder’s Chamber, even if it meant his death. Once you see it you’ll understand. After, you will report to the Council to accept a minor Oath and begin helping us.

Isaac walked down the set of stairs and beckoned to him, "Come, you will finally understand the true Legacy of the Reigned Phoenix Sect."

He was uncertain of what Isaac meant, but it had something to do with what Ian hoped to find. Taking a deep breath, Dean paced forward into the dark and narrow corridor.

##

Confinement robes…Theo thought as he watched Sal sitting on the ground. He wore a white robe with a green circle—the number thirty etched inside—over his heart. He looks so defeated.

The robes were specially designed to react with the formation set in the entire Confinement Hall. Not only did they prevent the user from cultivating and seal the wearer's strength, but they prevented one from being able to exit the confinement circle—a formation drawn on the ground that acted as their prison walls—until the green countdown finished. Of course, one had to be willing to put the robes on or at least be forced to wear them. Fortunately, Sal had accepted them without a word.

"Sal," Theo said, standing at the edge of the red circle. "Is it true that Brin has the Bloodverne?"

Sal stayed silent.

"Please, I need to know if he has the same disease as my sister. Maybe I can help."

"Just stay out of this, Theo." Sal said, his eyes closed. "I already said what I had to. And you'd be crazy if I would say anything else to a Council member. You know how much I despise them."

Theo cringed back for a moment as he was reminded of his new position, but then stepped inside the circle and placed his hand on Sal's shoulder. "This has nothing to do with that. I'm here as your brother-in-law and as an uncle. Is Brin sick?"

Sal looked up at him and hesitated for a long time before finally nodding, a tear escaping his watery eyes. "Theo, you didn't see him. It was the same as her. The same eyes, the same smile. It's like she's haunting me."

"It's not your fault." Theo said, helping Sal up and hugging him. "There was no way you could have known that she would take her life after she regained lucidity. I would have done the same thing."

"I was so close to curing her. It's ironic that as I stepped away to receive it, I caused her death."

"It's all right. Besides, we don't know if it would have worked and cur-"

"It worked." Sal said as he stepped to the window and looked outside, then finally whispered. "I used it on Brin."

"You did what? Are you crazy? That was an experimental cure and over twelve years old at that. You could have killed him."

"But I didn't. I healed him. And if it had in fact killed him...at least he would have died a decent death and not in the hands of the Council. Those pigs…” Sal said, clenching his teeth and tightening his muscles, he punched the wall. “They burned Elsa’s body. Then they disposed of the ashes."

“I know.” Theo whispered. He was also dissatisfied with the actions of the Council that day, but he saw their reasoning.

After a long silence, Sal spoke again. “Theo, could you check on Brin for me? Keep him safe…at least until I can see him again.”

Theo looked at Sal, his eyes showed nothing but concern. Smiling, he placed his hand on Sal’s shoulder and nodded. “I will do everything I can to help him.”

“Thanks.” Sal said, managing a small smile.

Theo walked down the dark and humid corridor—located in the Medicine Hall’s sub-level—that seemed unused for years. It was empty. The only signs of life were the faint trails—left recently by few disciples—and the faint whispers of the only occupant. Brin.

He picked up the pace and finally reached the only lit room. It was sealed. The door was bolted shut, but it had a large glass window—for monitoring the patient. Peering inside, Theo saw a huddled figure in the corner of the room, muttering to himself. Holding his breath, he tried to understand the whispers, but it was garbled nonsense.

“Brin,” Theo said, knocking on the glass. “are you all right?”

No response.

He tried again several times, but Brin was not responsive. He stayed in the corner.

Is he really cured? Theo wondered. He seems like Sis in the very early stages…he shook his head. No. Sal said he gave him the cure. I have to believe it worked. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the glass and called Brin again.

“Who…” Brin whispered.

“It’s Uncle Theo.” He said, not managing to hold back the eagerness. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine. I feel good…most of the time.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Brin said, hesitating he walked to the window and showed his arm. “Sometimes the pain comes back really bad.”

The sight made Theo want to puke. The arm was uncovered—bandages torn off—it revealed the missing chunks of flesh and skin. It was pink and no blood seeped out. “Is that why you were huddled in the corner.”

Brin shifted his gaze to the left and shrugged.

“I’ll ask Robin to come heal you. As a council member, I have access to more herbs…” Theo said, ignoring the faint burning sensation coming from his arm. The Oath protesting. Damn it.

“It’s fine. I don’t mind it much.” Brin said. “But can I make a request?”

“What do you need?”

“Can I get my bound beast back? I need to train for the aptitude test.”

Theo hesitated a moment, but nodded once he saw Brin’s eyes. They reminded him of a young Elsa asking for things. He was never able to refuse her.

“I’ll see what I can do. You might not be allowed to have physical contact with it, but I think I can manage to get it placed near you so you can train.”

“Thanks.” Brin said, smiling. Then, returned to his corner and huddled.

Theo was perplexed by the strangeness, but let it off as him dealing with the pain. Shaking his head, he left and headed to Robin’s Study to ask him about Brin’s beast.