“There’s nothing I hate more than explaining something twice. Humans aren’t very good at listening either, which deepens the issue. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt,” White Tiger said.

“I appreciate your confidence,” Grisla replied. He earned an indifferent grunt for that.

“You’ll appreciate me less when I finish,” White Tiger muttered. “However, I suppose you’d have a little thankfulness at your luck, to see a sight such as this, such as us, from the squalor your kind waddles in. The Herald knows how to pick ‘em,” He spat sarcastically.

“Forgive me, but I keep hearing this ‘Herald,’ who is that?”

The amulet gave an immediate reply. In the form of a hard slap across his face. Done so zealously he wondered if it was possessed by a scorned woman.

“What?” He rubbed his cheek, “What did I say wrong?”

White Tiger gave a low chuckle, “Ignorant and oblivious.”

Grisla’s eyes widened, “No way.”

“Yes way.”

The boy held the amulet high, “This?! It can’t even speak!”

“How rude to judge based on something so shallow. Do you even have the right?"

The amulet shot free from his grasp; did its aerial sign language, unintelligible to the uneducated like Grisla. The White Tiger’s ears twitched and moved like a satellite dish to the source. Whatever was going on, Grisla wasn’t invited to know. As the amulet made exaggerated motions in the air, the White Tiger couldn’t help but chuckle. Sometimes he even glanced at Grisla with something to be construed as pity. Never did it swivel to anything familiar like anger or annoyance. That was an attribute for lesser beings.

“There’s no way, he did not!” The White Tiger made a face between the amulet and him. Then, the amulet tossed itself high, higher than Grisla had ever thought it could go—flipping as a coin would. Landing in a perfect ten on the crown of his head. Receding to silence.

“Unexpected. Truly, unexpected.” A little twinkle came to the eye of the beast, who continued: “Anyhow, we’ve diverted. As a reminder, if you need a name for this place, I’ll give something of a relatable name for your mortal comprehension…” He looked up, looked at Grisla, “Call it Limbo.”

Grisla nodded. It did fit what he felt about this place.

“Tell me child, who do you think we are?”

“I can say that whatever uneducated conclusion I’ll come to will only infuriate you.”

“Don’t worry, I am not like you-know-who.”

“You-know-who?”

The tiger tilted his head, “You. Know. Who.”

Grisla lit up with understanding, “Are you meaning the Black Tortois—”

The world quaked. A boulder’s weight was forced on Grisla’s shoulders, whose knees almost caved into the pressure. But then a sudden grunt came, guttural and barbaric. The White Tiger was looking elsewhere. Grisla, relieved, took in a breath as if it were his first; somewhere in the midst of that, somewhere north, not far or close—a grunt from someone else, but this one attributed with disdain came from that place.

White Tiger’s slitted pupils came close, “Just because he isn’t here, doesn’t mean he can’t hear us. Or any of the others, for that matter. Watch your tongue.”

“I understand. And, to answer your question, I think you’re some level of beasts that are beyond anything I’ve ever seen. Creatures whose power obviously far outstrips my own. My first assumption, after being corrected by you-know-who, is that you Elder beings are some age-old ancestors of Shade Beasts?”

“Halfway correct. We are not Shade Beasts, and those who take after us we wouldn’t consider our descendants, either. There are some out there who’ve taken a liking to our image, imitating our appearance or other aspects, passing themselves off as far down descendants who can trace the lineage back. Even more annoying that there are—a small amount, but an amount nonetheless, a select few that have stronger ties to us than others. Who’ve taken up our blood so closely they could flutter about unchained with their borrowed power and false prestige. Should you live a bit longer, leave that rotting carcass of a clan and explore the greater world, you’ll see what I mean.”

It was the first time he’d heard someone to be so bold in their insults for his clan. Not that it affected him, on the other hand it livened its spirit to know that the clan wasn’t as superior as they thought they were. It made him wonder, if any of these creatures were to roam the Northern Wilderness and poke the clan’s eye, who would win?

“I would, obviously.” White Tiger said.

Grisla froze.

The tiger assured him, “Don’t worry, I don’t stoop so low as to probe into the mind of the weak.”

“Can—Can all experts read the minds of people like myself?”

“Not at all. Also, ‘experts’ is something you’d refer to for human cultivators. It’s just my instinct talking. Someday, you might be able to do it too. But there are warriors who specialize in unfolding what you have in there. And they’re some of the trickiest to fight and kill.”

“Someday? Weren’t you just on about a looming death for me?”

“I’ll get to that later,” White Tiger waved his paw. “Death is so final! Let’s talk about the now, and then I’ll elaborate your probable and eventual end. ‘Kay?”

He swallowed it as truth. Who was he to argue? Besides, their power was inarguable. Their everything lampshades anything he’d ever encountered in his life and considered that would be true for everything in this world so far.

“You are here, in Limbo; surrounded by beasts of the divine, creatures who’ve seen hundreds of clans settle where your family lies now through the countless millennia. Why are you here? Because…” White Tiger came close. His eyes saw Grisla, peering to him, and through, as if he could discern past, present, and future, “you have been chosen, Grisla Orlith.”

“For our ends.”

Grisla sunk inside himself. He hadn’t heard such words ever in his life before. He hadn’t any idea of what that could entail, he almost lost a mind to pay attention to the White Tiger’s words coming next. How long has it been, since anyone had anything tailored with him in mind? Long enough to forget. Far enough for it to be considered fantasy. He ached, somewhere. Each word that came next from the divine tiger tapped at his heart, beating his drum with feelings he normally has under a thumb.

White Tiger’s nail pointed, “More accurately, the Herald, has chosen you.”

“This?” Grisla looked up; and the amulet on his head did a backflip.

“That amulet once belonged to your predecessor. We’ve created it as an assistant to our whims, to find ourselves one who is worthy to stand between the Four.”

“That person,” Grisla worked it out in his mind, “was the Sage, correct?”

“Sage was his title; Tianbei Qin his name.” White Tiger said.

Understanding in effect, Grisla pieced it together without being told. “I can agree with your reactions.”

“Yes… A surprise would be an understatement.”

The White Tiger stood up; began prowling in unreasonably slow steps around his chosen—their chosen. “We are the Cardinal Four, divinities who exist on a plane that no mortal will ever reach. However, it is not a paradise here, not even close. Our power is all roughly equivalent—with some minor subtle differences, but that’s neither here nor there. Because of this, there comes periods where maybe every century, a quarrel will come about between us. Pride, honor, territory—sometimes all three.”

“We desire to kill one another, Grisla Orlith. I’ve tried to kill that old wreck of a turtle many times,” the skies rumbled in reply, “he’s tried to do the same. The snake you call the Azure Dragon has had his attention bent on harming me, while also being targeted by the Vermillion Bird.”

These things tried to kill one another?

He shuddered. “Ehrm, may I ask if it would be unreasonable if you considered not to fight?”

White Tiger chuckled at the notion.

Such god-like beings, possessing might like they do, would surely—

“Yes,” White Tiger nodded. “We threaten the integrity of our home, that the four of us reside in. And it has happened more times than I can recall. However, one day, the Vermillion Bird had enough of the fighting. Two years later, the Azure Dragon was fed up. Five later, the Black Tortoise. A decade later—yours truly followed suit. But this non-aggression pact is tenuous. The desires may change but our hearts stay the same. We are aware of this, even now, before you arrived, we had a scuffle. Were it not for the Herald to inform us of a candidate coming…”

“We decided there needed to be a third-party, an intermediary, so to speak, to be our anchor. A role with the responsibility of handling our discussions in Limbo and our affairs in your realm. Do you understand, Grisla Orlith?”

The chosen candidate nodded. White Tiger’s breath washed over Grisla’s neck.

“Then, becoming the Sage of the Cardinal Four is to be also our chosen representative in the mortal world, to exemplify our will, our aspects—our power!” White Tiger roared. “It would be a humiliating endeavor to go down there ourselves—a trip just to show the worms in the dung who’s the shadow above them?! Preposterous would be a faint scratch at the surface!”

If Grisla hadn’t known any better or conversed with this divinity for a span of unknown time, he would’ve figured the next move would be for himself to die at this point. Even without being the target of his spontaneous outburst, the aura he restrained out of concern for Grisla’s brittle core still managed to rock his vision, swaying as a boat hitting the storm.

“Tianbei Qin was a Sage who did his duties without question. We didn’t trust him, for he was a mortal first, and a human second. Eventually after many centuries of service, we had no choice but to acknowledge him. Powerful, wise and a decent sense of humor if I may add. He allowed us to separate our differences from what’s right for the world, and what we thought was best for ourselves. A man we will remember, forever.”

Did he say centuries? Impossible.

He kicked himself. Once again, there was no such thing.

“Instead of someone who has something of a shadow of our old friend, Herald, you deliver us… this? Him? For what reason? He’s aware of how broken he is in his own world, yet you wish to pawn off the used goods to us? I want a thorough explanation; you owe us one.”

Grisla had his eyes shoot up, but alas, couldn’t see the top of his head. The amulet that slept there listened just as much as Grisla had, however not a response came.

White Tiger shook his head. “Y’know, you can’t always be righ—”

“I chose him. Because he is the one you desire,” A voice said.

“Oh-ho-ho,” The tiger glanced in a direction. “You finally stopped hiding then.”

“My legs were getting pretty cramped in there, when’s my next raise?”

White Tiger rolled his eyes. “Ask me again in another two hundred years.”

Grisla couldn’t help but turn towards this new voice. Behind him was a girl he had to look down on—literally. She barely came up his chest. When his mind put two-and-two together, “You’re the amulet?”

She possessed silver hair with silver eyes. Looking as if she was talking to an imbecile, “Do I look like an amulet to you? You have a great talent for irking people wherever you go. Nah, that place is like my office. Can call me whatever you like,” She said.

Taken aback, “Did I mishear?” Grisla said.

Grisla knew there was something wrong about her—not wrong, just different. The White Tiger’s presence oozed off him, like it did for the others, and even Grisla himself had a presence, albeit a weak one. Any existence that manipulated Juva of this universe kept some sort of imprint of themselves out in the world. She perplexed him. This newcomer had given him the feeling of a mortal, not even a cultivator. An object, almost.

She ran a finger through her hair, “I have no use for a name, Grisla Orlith. My masters know who I am.”

“Can’t call you an amulet, or amulet-girl, or whatever.”

“Then give me a name.”

“Seri,” Grisla said the first thing that crossed his mind.

Seri raised an eyebrow. “That was quick. Not bad, I’ll take it.”

“You’re easy to please.”

“You’re easy to fool.”

Grisla furrowed his eyebrows. if this was the annoyance sitting in my amulet, then…

With his fake smile up, “You chose me, why?” he spoke.

Seri, who strolled off like a lost puppy, said: “No reason. The position’s been vacant too long, and you’re a step up from the other candidate.”

“It was Rei Jian, wasn’t it?”

“Nope. It was that Xinrei brat before you. God he was so obnoxious. You know how it feels to hear a brat and his ego in continual talk with oneself? I had to do something to get him away from me.”

“The rust,” He asked, “that was your doing?”

“Deterred everyone but you.”

But there was something else unanswered. Grisla had to know, and the one person most suitable to answer was right in front of him. “Seri. Did you kill Rei Jian, then?”

Seri shook her head. “I did not. But what came to him was a shame. He did have some promise, then, out of jealousy, his peers plotted against him—the few that’re still alive you’d be calling Elder by now. In fact—had he not come to a premature end; we would’ve found use out of him.”

It’s as I thought.

A frown couldn’t help from crossing his face. “You couldn’t protect him? Or wouldn’t?” The words slipped out of Grisla’s mouth before he’d thought about it.

White Tiger chuckled.

Seri turned, “All of the above. We did say you were candidates. Beggars can’t be choosers; however, I’ll have my masters wait another century if that means the chaff gets filtered out.”

“Funny, because I remember clearly that someone gave their Juva to me to prevent my death, what about that?” Grisla said indignantly.

“I just pitied you, is all.”

Grisla brought out a humorless laugh.

What was I thinking? These people—things, entities, what have you, they’ve no conscience outside of what benefits them in the end. They’re no different than the clan. Is this the attitude of the strong? The right of the powerful? If that’s true, if that’s how things are because of our world, then—

“Then,” Grisla said, eyes hardening, “after advancing from your candidate, what’s next?”

White Tiger answered, “You will then begin as our disciple, but more so as if you were a flesh-and-blood descendant of our own than as normal master-student relationship. If you please us, you’ll be granted the power you oh so desire.”

“What must I do?”

“There’s only one test.”

“Only one?” Grisla probed.

“Yeah, and it’s quite easy.”

The divinity’s shadow loomed over him. His bestial instinct, kept on a tight leash, looked as if they might break through the film at any time. But a foreboding was on the way, Grisla feeling its arrival with every inch that was closed between them.

With a sadistic grin, “Kill your father,” White Tiger spat.