Atuel tried to sleep that night. But there was none to be had. He turned from side to side without once getting a single wink in. He would usually just knock out the second he laid down because of the sheer exhaustion his small body felt, but not this time. Even after the beating and running like mad from the cultivator’s pavilion, he was wide awake.

He knew why, turning to the right, he could see the outlines of the pack of ancient parchment. Everything rested in that tiny book, how could he feel rest when it was so close. Something inside told him, if he did it for a day he would start flying and could throw a thousand punches in a second!

But, he knew better. It was going to be a hard and arduous road filled with obstacles. There was no one to guide him other than his mother. His reading was still terrible, especially for something written with such an ancient and traditional form of the common language.

It was a lesson he had just started learning before the world collapsed around him and his mother. Just thinking about the headaches he had trying to understand what the teachers were saying brought phantom pain.

In the end, even shutting his eyes hard for a solid minute did nothing. He had to check what was waiting for him. He picked the parchment with a trembling hand as he sat up. Would he still understand anything? Would his mother? She was formally educated, right?

He had not considered this.

Atuel opened the book with shut eyes and reverent hands. He cracked one open only to struggle to see anything at all. He tsked and got up, quietly. His mother could not see him sneaking out or she would lecture him until dawn, neither would get a moment of shut eye.

He rushed up the side of the building, parchment in the crook of his arm, making sure to take steady well learned pathways. The structures around here were not solid to say the least. Eventually, he made it to the top of the building they lived near.

He looked up and stared up at the cloudless night. The stars shimmered like jewels his mother used to wear. The moon is as bright as her kind smile. The constellation could not compare to her purity.

Atuel shook his head, and focused on what he was here to do. He cracked the parchment open, careful not to rip it up. The thing looked like it would turn to ash at any moment. It held firm.

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“Dragon’s soar… ... Heavens, matched … ... fiery Phoenix. … ... battle ... Krakens in depthless seas. How … ... beast have we witnessed stalk the thick … ...? What of … ...that prowl the … …?

Are they not mighty? Do they not race faster … … ... arrows from a ...? Do they … … boulders with their paws? Some live deep in the shadows… …! Others accept the elements as their … … the land around them.

Are they not weak and … ... at birth?

For months, they would have no … ... even a human child. Why, suddenly …”

Atuel stopped. He could barely understand what was written. Something about beasts and monsters, but that was all he could decipher from the preface. He skipped the first three pages as they were only the author spinning a tale and the understanding behind why he had created it the way he did.

It was like the author had something to prove to others.

Only when he found the first stage instructions did he stop skipping. He worked hard to decipher all the useless words and eventually got the gist of what he was supposed to do.

As the book said, well he inferred, you have to integrate with the Qi in the air. Only then would they begin the process of cultivating. What integrating meant, or what the minute details were to know you had succeeded were conveniently left out. All the author explained was how to find the Qi in the air, then absorb it through your body instead of breathing.

How that was supposed to happen, well, that was left to imagination. Or maybe that was the point in having a Master to guide you. Cultivators who had lived for thousands of years must know a few things about this. But, that was not an option now.

There was no one but himself and his mother.

Atuel closed his eyes and sat cross-legged. He had to find some sort of floating energy in the air, but that was it. How the hell was he supposed to do that? He tried to focus, but found it very difficult to empty his mind. His stomach found it the opportune moment to grumble in hunger, his right calf ached, nose itched, half closed left eye twitched too.

Things he was not aware of just moments ago were as obvious as day now. They were endless. He had to forcefully focus on his every breath to clear his head, it was difficult, but achieved it.

Breathing was far more complicated than he had considered. He filled his lungs and exhaled, but there were two things that bloated up like water skins every time he took a breath. They would flatten when he exhaled.

Far more amusing and noteworthy than how much his nose itched. Atuel sniffed trying to ignore the urge to rub it. He had to find the Qi, or he would never begin. Was it in the air floating? Or was it lying on the ground like dust waiting for someone to disturb it?

Did it flow like water or was it more like mud?

Then it hit him! How could he have forgotten it?! Qi was like a thousand spiders!