He could hear a deep voice speak with an ancient pace. Each word was enunciated and clear and seemed to vibrate in his chest.

“Close your eyes. Think of nothing.”

It felt like an order. Something deep within Atuel urged him to answer to whatever the command was. The vibration to the deep voice forced him to do what was told. Though he struggled to clear his mind as thoughts of his mother kept popping up. But the voice gave him ample time.

“Well done, child. Now you will feel something seep into your skin. Do not be worried, it is the Qi in the air. I shall guide it to enter your body.”

Atuel felt it. Something began to crawl under his skin like a thousand spiders. He jumped and began scratching his skin. The sensation would give him nightmares for weeks to come. But, no matter what he did, it would not stop. He cried out in discomfort.

He heard the deep voice gasp. That was the only warning he had before a hand tore through the tent and grabbed him by the neck and dragged him inside. Atuel tumbled down, rolling to a halt, disheveled.

The itching sensation had stopped, but he was put into an even worse position. He found a tiny kid, barely five years old half-kowtowing, shrink from his gaze. In front of him was an ancient person with wrinkles, a long beard of white, and deep eyes that matched his age with cunning and wisdom.

But what stood out the most was the shining stone that was blasting out a golden light too bright to look at. Atuel had to look away until it dimmed slowly. He tried to slip out in the distraction but only thumped into an invisible barrier.

“Who are you?” the old man said, his voice timber nor speed changing even a bit.

“He’s the witch's son!” The five year old chimed.

A thick eyebrow arched at the kid. “Witch?”

“Yes! They say she seduced the City Lord. Only after meeting the saintess did he break out of her spell! The saintess saved him!”

Atuel’s fists could not help but turn white from anger. But he kept his face straight as ice, much to the old man’s amusement. How much do people gossip about them that a child that is barely old enough to speak would say so much? Did people have nothing better than to kick them while they struggled to stand?

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

The old man, the cultivator, chuckled. “Son of Hu Bao?”

Atuel would not meet his eyes, biting his lip to stop from lashing out. He cursed that name from the depths of his heart. How could a father be so cruel to his own son? How could a husband throw their wife out of their home? What monster would commit such evil?

What kind of man could he possibly be? A worthless piece of trash is what.

“How old are you?”

“I turned eleven last month.” Atuel said begrudgingly, that same forceful command hit him again. The cultivator was doing something to force him to speak, he had no defence for it.

“A bit older than your brother, but-”

Atuel turned to glare at him. That was no brother of his. He was the spawn of a demon.

“Such sharp eyes. Not many children have them. You’re older than what I would usually take, but the purity of your spiritual roots are undeniable. You’ll catch up eventually, maybe at the foundation, initial stage. Only if you work hard.” He sent one of those flags to fly towards Atuel.

He caught it. Staring at it, not sure what he was supposed to do.

The old man sighed. “Show up a week from today and dawn. I will be at the gate. If you need anything I will be here.” He waved Atuel away.

A cultivator. Didn’t he hear stories of their power. Strength enough to break the wind. Sword skills so powerful, they cut the tops of mountains. The power to call floods, avalanches, and make volcanoes explode underneath their enemies.

They could make balls of fire fly and explode on their enemies!

Who would not wish to be one of the highest class, strong enough to feed themselves and take care of those they love.

But...

“You have a question?” the old man noticed instantly. From joy, to wonderment, then finally concernment.

“My mother-”

“You must break all ties to the mortal world. She will be rewarded handsomely with more gold than she could use in ten generations. But in return, there must be no contact or it will shake your martial heart unnecessarily.”

Atuel fell into a dilemma. His mother, she would probably live a good life, right? She could hire all the servants she could ever want. Some man would be willing to marry her regardless of the lies they speak of her. And they would love her more for the kindness and purity she held deep in her heart once they got to know her.

He nodded, determined. This was the best choice. He would get to live out a dream and his mother would be fully taken care of. There was nothing to think about here. It was a win-win situation.

“Good. You’ve come to a great decision.” he waved him away and turned back to the five year old. “Now let's try this one more time.”

Atuel did not wait to see what happened. He hid the uselessly large flag under his shirt and took off. He rushed towards his mother with wonderful news. All their issues were solved! They won't need to starve anymore, and she could care for her body instead of focusing on him. Time seemed to slow, and his journey felt like years. Only when he saw his home did he finally feel at ease.

His mother was attempting to eat a greasy skewer of fatty meat daintily. It did not work, her hands and chin were covered with the juices of the meat and her eyes arched in enjoyment. She gulped, savoring every moment.

Atuel smiled at the scene, his heart fluttering in filial love.

“Mother!” he jumped into a near tackle hug. “I did it! I did it!”

His mother laughed. “Great job, little dumpling. I knew you could do it!” She answered without once asking what he was talking about.

“But I didn't say what it was?” he asked in a light mood.

“I believe in you. You will accomplish what ever you want!” She nodded then returned back to her meal. She took a large bite, humming.