The sweet smell filled the room, along with questions and a few laughs.

It was nice that the topic moved along, but they were words that lingered in the room.

Would Taoyi kill the potential husband of his descendant? Well, it’s not like I have not noticed the way they say the word ‘Ancestor’. It’s the same way you talk about old fishbones.

The conversation started quickly after the short breakdown of Zhengqi. Hao was doing his best to keep her entertained, distracted from such a thought again. It was a sight… overly unpleasant, another grotesque piece of reality.

Hao first corrected Meiqi’s statement. Islanders can consummate their marriage when they like, but can only have children after they have been together for five years.

What she got right is when Islanders were born, they were born in a cycle of five years, separated by five years. Hao was not born during that time.

If Hao was still on the Island, he could not join in finding a marriage partner from his Island or the neighboring ones. Alliances and trades began to form this way; it was also a way to dilute bloodlines.

He spoke of the Island ethics, something he no longer had any right to speak of. There were corpses on his chest. But he knew the how and why. Mainly that human life was rare on the Island and something precious.

Briefly, he mentioned interactions and conflicts with other Islands and merchants, along with unions they may have had.

“My Father broke off his engagement and went to land. For reasons he will not say, no one else would either. But there he met my mother. You can probably tell by how I look,” Hao said.

Hao had two-tone hair, golden, and rough, an Islanders’ well-known trait. It was mostly black, which he got from his mother. It took up most of the space but did not hide the golden strands he got from his father.

“Young Master must have got the best of both parents,” Meiqi said.

She knew well how most Islanders viewed outsiders to their community, and how they thought of the people from the land.

Meiqi gave Hao a small look of pity, one of understanding. She curled her finger behind her back, not into a fist, just to scratch her palm.

Hao’s mind became clear during all the talking. It was nice to have a proper moment of peace with other people; Hao found it special.

However, that did not change the fact noon was almost here, and he had two bodies to burn.

When he reminded himself of that, their conversation was going around in circles. A circle that avoided the questions either side really wanted to ask.

They did not once mention Hao being gone; They could have questioned him and put him in a tough spot.

Find out why they had to suffer through the eventful few days. They were curious, without a doubt, especially if the disciples or Taoyi came up the mountain to lead the servants back down to the main area of the Sect; They would have heard a description of Hao being spoken of at the discipleship ceremony.

Hao stood, tapping his chest, a body, Axe’s. Cold to the touch but not frozen appeared in the sky. He hit the ground with a thud, and the two women, taken aback, stood in haste.

“Young Master like I said…” Meiqi said.

Hao interrupted her. “Is this man still alive?” Hao asked. He had to know if the living thing could go into the bag. If so, he had ideas, plans, and hopes, some that were a little sinister.

They were more than a little surprised. Zhengqi did not hesitate to show her skill. She started checking over the body of the man who seemed to be in an eternal, still sleep.

She had a momentary struggle getting the man’s eyes and mouth to open. The flesh of his face was swollen like he put his head in a bee’s nest. The skin on his face was turning purple now that he was outside the bag.

“Young Master, this man is indeed new to the Sect. He has been to the medicine hall a few times. He frequently returns from missions covered in lacerations…”

“Young Master, he is alive, but even if he had the chance to physically recover, he could not move… ever again,” Zhengqi said.

Her timid disposition once again left her as she spoke, having no hesitation in her actions. She fished the loose teeth out of Axe’s mouth, closer to sand than teeth anymore.

“Look here, Young Master.” She said, holding open an eyelid.

Hao was finding Zhengqi only knew how to be bold when talking about scholarly pursuits or the dead.

He leaned down, looking into the milky eye; The pupil remained, but the unique color was fading.

“It’s beyond my skill to say, but his soul seems to have suffered damage. See here. His eyes have a physical reaction, but they are hazy.”

That was not all she had to say; she went on for a short while.

Hao listened, noting her words and comparing his actions to all of what she was saying.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

The war of pulling that took place when I took him in the bag—Could that be his ‘soul’ fighting back? Hao thought. He was right in a sense, but he knew that short tug-o-war was not an ‘overtime’ process. Hao just tore away at the last strands of the man being.

Hao did not loot the man, so Zhengqi’s hands were finding things as she inspected the body.

“Young Master… Do you plan to place him in flames like this? He can still feel pain… That would be,” Zhengqi said, her words stuttering as she hesitated to say anymore.

Hao was thinking of it. The words of the two men prodded a beast in Hao he didn’t know about. But thinking of home had cooled him and news of the fifteenth year made him feel more mature, at least for now.

“No,” Hao said. “I will not torture someone in such a state, someone who died at my hands. Join me to start the fire in ten minutes…”

Hao leaned down, taking the body in the Spirit-Holding bag this time with less struggle. He left the building before either party could say anything, walking to the platform around the large pit.

He stepped up onto the cobbles, closer to the dry grass than the ashes in the hole. As he was placing down the body, he took out the knife he got from Li Tuzai; the golden droplet had broken.

Hao poked a hole in the Axe’s throat, a simple action that made his hand feel like it was floating held by chains.

He stood watching as blood drained from the man. The rigid body slowly went limp, as his facial features were being washed away in the Sun’s light. A face that disappeared in the noon light—only the shiny surface of the blood and the vague shape of a head and body remained. The blood poured out, an immense pool of red gloss stretching from the large man.

Hao imagines a few distinct faces on the featureless head.

Blood seeped out, and the world pulled it down. The red shine slid into the gaps in the cobbled stones. Soaking into the individual stone’s pores. Hao continued watching for a little longer, blood traveling, flowing as if it was looking for a place to go. It painted everything it passed, nourishing the ground and grass.

Hao took out the Drinking-Stone, and it drank away the moment it touched the outside air.

The blood was being ripped from everything it touched. Any liquid left in Axe was rushing out. Everything returned to its normal dull, toned-out color under the sun.

Axe was shriveling; there was little left of him, a husk of a potential great or horrible man.

The mist around the stone was obvious, even in the light. It did as it had before. The white mist was larger than Hao’s drop of blood essence, but less substantial. It was more violent but had a murky color, greenish. A similar effect took on the gold crystal that formed, decent sized, but it had a greenish tint in the light.

Hao moved, storing everything after the World Energy bursted out into the air. The precious resource is being carried off by the winds of the world outside.

He got the body last, but it was now as light as a feather, nearly weightless compared to before. Nothing like the first time…

With this, Hao confirmed things could stay alive in the bag. If alive is what you would call that state; Is there a way to get something into the bag without damaging the soul of it? The Second Elder may know; it was her artifact. Such a question is not worth the token right now.

Hao sat down as he went into thought. The token was a lifeline he didn’t want to lose yet, even if the fourth elder token would remain.

Hao could hear the two women approach as he sat in meditation. The sun was at its peak, in the center of the sky. The close direct rays of light made the world wash away, all colors turning bright. He was deep in thought as he waited for the soft footsteps on the crackling grass to get close.

He had a few things to do before his day was done. A person he was not sure he wanted to visit was Li Tuzai. He had a question for the man, about the beast's blood he gave to the drinking-stone, which had turned to a flaking dry rust.

Hao had also hoped that he could visit the library before the end of the day. He held that hope in silent excitement as small feet brushed on the stones.

Hao stood, listening to their greetings as they passed him. Zhengqi was carrying a beaten broom. They both had tall umbrellas spread wide, letting them stand in a shadow that fell straight down.

They spoke in mumbles and gasps, the hot air enough to burn their lungs. Hao was walking along behind them, looking down into the pit and the platform he sat on for the first time.

A cobblestone platform on a slightly raised hill; a few more stones encircle the edge of the shallow drop. Stones drenched in soot, ashes piling in the center of the pit. It had seen frequent use; Probably never for a human body, let alone two. Hao thought.

Zhengqi started sweeping, gathering the soot and ash on the outer perimeter of the platform while Meiqi sparked a fire.

Both worked while standing upright under the umbrellas tied to the backs.

Hao threw the last of the garbage he collected, along with a few pieces of timber he just cut in the pit.

Dust and ash lift into the air because of him. It did not travel far, just to the edge of the platform, not reaching the residences that were just behind.

If a spark got carried far enough, it would save a lot of future trouble. Hao pushed away the thought. The fire would take the place he slept too.

The dorms were now empty, anyway. He missed them leaving. He already knew what happened in the three days he was gone. One servant, the only one he remembered, shared a room with him, and the two he was about to burn. A fleeing thought, but a curious one.

The dust settled around the platform and Meiqi threw the little flame she had created into the pit. It was quick to rage. She bowed, walking back to the house.

Zhengqi followed her mother’s lead once again, walking by Hao, bowing her head as she got close.

“Leave the broom here,” Hao said.

She handed it to him without objection or question, just a few words. “Young Master does not need to feel guilty. Your actions could be just. The past of new disciples is often dug up quickly. Rumors make it to the medicine hall, eventually. If he is who I think he was, bounty postures were spreading around the sect. He was a bandit before coming up this mountain.” Zhengqi said.

She bowed with a deep breath, coughing up the hot air as she left.

Hao gave no response, his eyes barely flickering. He did not need such a comfort, whether truth or lie.

Perhaps feeling guilty would be better.

The only guilt Hao felt was for not feeling any. The only shame he felt was thinking of what others would think of him. What would the people who he shared a table with on the Island say?

Zhengqi’s words brought no comfort, but he appreciated them.

He thought of the intentions behind them as he forced his eyes open under the sun, sweeping under the oppressive noon sun, and the heat of the growing flame in the pit.

The pile of wood and trash took little space, fire took more of the pit than the garbage did.

The flame was still sprouting new stems and tentacles of orange and yellow outlines.

Hao stared at it in his sweeping. The ash and dust under his broom under the fire. Life would prosper there if given a chance. Seeds of grass and flowers are being devoured by flame. Never to feel water or have leaves that could bask in the sun.

The broom scattered more dust forward around the platform towards the pit.

This pit could grow life again. It was a minor comfort and welcome belittlement of his actions. Life smothered in flame, things that could not survive the heat so careless sweep away to the afterlife. More coming again to replace it, only to be swept away again.

The continuous cycle of eradication of life not yet to start made his action of killing only two men seem small.

Perhaps something will find a way through the heat and prosper in it.

The more he looked at the fire, the less color it had. The sun was reaching the edge of its apex. He finished up piling dust near the pit’s edge. He started pushing it in.

Hao’s eyes were becoming waterless wells, his face becoming empty as he watched the dust land softly.

He added more wood, listening to the crack, feeling the spreading heat.

Then he threw the bodies in, and each one landed with a crash, crushing everything beneath them. They fell deep into the cradle of fire. Flesh burning, a new variation of a familiar smell filling the air.

He could have left Axe half-alive, to feel the flames, but draining the man of blood brought more benefits, and the satisfaction would have left only a bittersweet taste.

He continued to sweep, dust that splashed out of the pit, cooling the sparks that landed on the stone.

Great heat cooked him from all around. As he swept, he was comprehending life and its partner’s death, things only mortals know.

Words of the Elders on the Island seemed like footprints in the mud; An islander who kills does not belong on an Island. The smell of burning flesh and hair haunts the air.

For the first time, Hao felt he left the Island, both its safety and its confines. There are people there I cannot leave behind.