The venom spread as Ren struggled to learn what Osai was teaching him.

The pain grew, and something dark clawed its way into him. It nestled into the shadowy corners of his soul where his rage and hatred hid, and it wore them like cloaks. Whispering to him, scratching at his mind.

Whatever he did, he still couldn’t manage to touch or even feel his Qi.

Osai stroked his beard, then reached into Ren’s traveling bag and pulled out a thin book. It was somehow bound in shimmering leaves, all the colors of autumn, with some kind of sinew holding it together.

Osai held out the booklet and Ren took it with shaky hands. They had gotten bony and weak. His whole body was being eaten away by the shadow of the serpent. A tingling wave passed through him as he touched the book.

He opened it. Broken Path. Ren gasped.

“I hope you don’t mind that I bound it,” said the old man. A soft smile on his lips. “Maybe you can find something in there that will help.”

Ren settled into the Wind Tickles the Leaves, and felt himself open. He extended his presence into the wood of the wagon, the leaves of the book cover, the air he breathed as it mingled with the wind. There was a tingling buzz, a current of life that ran through it all.

The shadow raged, and sent acid through his bones. He grimaced and left it to its thrashing, turning his mind to his song. He couldn’t play the Ney in this state, so instead he hummed in time with his breathing. The breeze shifted with the music, and through the opening on the side of the coach, leaves twirled in the air, spiraling and playing.

Finally, he turned inward. The darkness now had a shape, like an uncoiled serpent, or the shadow of a dragon. And there was something else. Flecks of light dispersed throughout his body from the pill.

Looking deeper, he found the same buzzing current of life in his own body. Osai smiled and guided him through breathing patterns and visualizations. Pulling that tingling energy to the little seed just below his navel, letting it expand and contract in time with his breathing, till there was a sense of connection, a linkage between his mind and that seed. It sparked and shone in his perception, a warmth undulating with the movement of his breath and the energy now linked to it.

His dantian was awakened! He was on the path.

He inhaled deeply and followed along as Osai guided him through what he called 'a modified version of the Blood Cleansing Wheel', not that Ren knew the first thing about the original technique. He traced the pathways of the shimmering flecks, and pushed his intent along them.

Shadow and filth filled the meridians—that was what Osai called the lines of energy that ran the length of his body—and scraped agonizingly as he bid his energy to move with his breath, focusing on the bright little specks to guide the way.

“Very good, boy.” Osai’s voice wafted into his consciousness as it contorted with pain and focus. “Don’t stop.”

Then the man placed a hand on Ren’s heart, and light and warmth poured into him, easing the pain and the effort. The jerky current of his Qi began to steady and flow, though it still moved like sludge.

“Yes,” said the old man. “It’s working.”

The caravan traveled slower than it had before, and over the following weeks on the road Ren got steadily better at moving his paltry Qi with his breath. The more he circulated, the more he was able to drive out the worst of the physical components of the venom, which bled out of his skin in an odoriferous, inky slurry that ate through his clothes and stained the wooden floor of the wagon.

Eventually he gave up his modesty and lay naked as he practiced the Blood Purification Wheel. The tainted garments were used as rags to wipe away the shadowy filth but they would need to be burned soon.

The last week saw a decrease in the amount of venom that he excreted.

“It isn’t just venom,” Osai explained. “It is also the natural impurities that have been building up in your body. That is where the stench comes from.”

Apparently, purifying his meridians now would also make advancement in cultivation a smoother process once he had the resources to do so. That was good, because his life depended on it.

The pain receded too. He was able to keep up his meditation, holding back the remains of the serpent that had taken root in him, even while walking around. His strength started to return as well, though the muscle he’d gained working at Garam’s would take lots of work to get back.

But terrible tremors shook his hands and didn’t seem to be getting any better.

Osai was with him, helpful and patient through it all, though he could often be seen staring out at something nobody else could see, his eye darting along paths only the old man could comprehend.

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Finally he worked up his nerve to ask a question that had been nagging at him. “Osai… why are you helping me?”

The man turned and smiled, his blank eye seeming to bore into Ren. Then he laughed. For a long time.

“Sorry, my young friend.” That was a new development, too. The old man had started calling him friend instead of boy. “For a lifetime I have searched for a cure to my mortality. For a way to reclaim my power. But I grew tired and lost hope. Over the years I took on a couple students, thinking maybe sharing my knowledge would help me find the answer… Only to watch as they made the same mistakes I made on my own path. They chased power, but not wisdom, not harmony. I realized that until I learned the final teaching of my own master, I could never be a teacher myself. So I vowed not to take any more students.

“They wouldn’t listen to me, you see. Not about the things that I had come to realize mattered. But you, Ren—you listen. And you have been a friend to me since the moment we met. How many people do you think gave up their only shelter to help me in all my years of traveling?”

Osai’s eye went back to wandering.

“I guess the answer may be that you have taught me mortality isn’t something to be cured.”

“If it was your goal to regain your cultivation, why didn’t you take my manual?” This was his real question.

“Ah… well, I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to being tempted. But much care was put into making that for you. More than you yet understand. If I ever hope to gaze into my Master’s eyes again, I cannot allow myself to fall so far. Stealing such a gift, from a friend no less… it would shame not only me, but him.” Osai’s eyes were wet with emotion.

“You really love your master, don’t you?”

Osai smiled. “I suppose that is the only word for it.”

***

Ren would be eternally grateful to Norn for packing the extra clothes for him. Arriving at the military base stark naked would have been a bad start.

The caravan crested a hill and broke from the trees.

Below stretched a valley. A small stream ran through the center, passing through a city much smaller than he’d become accustomed to. By now the trees were mostly bare, but verdant grass rolled out along the length of the land. An hour or two upstream of Rattan, Ren could make out a cluster of red. The military camp, no doubt.

The road was smooth as they descended toward the city. Its walls were lower, but thicker, made of grey stone, rather than the sandstone that comprised the battlements of Katarn.

Inside the city Osai’s eyes lit up and he started explaining how magnificent the architecture was.

“But it looks basically the same as Katarn, just less colorful and grey instead of brown.”

“Yes, young friend. But think about it. This is granite. To build the same buildings with granite instead of sandstone is an immense undertaking. There must be some great stone workers in the history of this place.”

Ren nodded. He didn’t really care. His gut was churning the closer they got. What if he didn’t make it in? What if they discovered the shadow and disqualified him?

Maybe he hadn’t thought this through enough. Old people often accused the young of being headstrong. Had he rushed blindly into this?

“Wow!” Osai clapped him on the shoulder. The old man was certainly more energetic nowadays. “Look at that!”

Ren followed his gaze and saw a large round building, maybe three stories high. It had no windows, and seemed to be crafted of one impossibly large piece of stone. Along the walls were chipped carvings of men and beasts fighting.

“An arena,” said the old man. “And do you feel that Qi.”

Ren was immensely grateful to the man, but it took almost all his concentration to hold back the hungry shadow that still clung to him. All these interruptions were making his focus slip.

Osai looked at him and frowned. “You need to focus. Your concentration is slipping. This is no laughing matter. If you can’t do this you will die.”

Ren’s fists bunched up. HE WAS CONCENTRATING! THIS RAT BASTARD OF AN ANCIENT SHIT-

Pain lanced through him as the serpent writhed in glee.

He took a deep breath and started to hum.

“Very good,” said Osai. “Very good.”

Sometimes he wasn’t sure if Osai was just insane, or insanely good at teaching him without appearing to try.

After the Wagons stopped and they unloaded their supplies, Ren and Osai parted ways. He followed directions from one of the drivers to a plain building not far from the market square. The sign above it read, Recruitment Office.

He pushed open the door.

*******

Melfina couldn’t believe her eyes. Her master had come to Rattan. Why he was traveling with that flute player she couldn’t guess, the boy still had such a paltry presence even after all this time traveling together. Well, her master did love music.

But more importantly, he’d come to the same city as her again. He must have known and come to continue her teachings. She couldn’t wait to show off. She’d finally broken through the bottleneck that had been holding her back. It had happened only a week after the festival, and the song. He would have to recognize her as a student now.

“Master!” She approached him as soon as he was alone, hobbling through an alley, running his hand along the wall.

He kept walking.

Melfina, the Flame-Blade, ran in front of him and bowed her head to the ground. She had let her excitement get the better of her and forgotten decorum.

He sighed. “How long are you going to do that child?” His voice was richer and fuller and more beautiful than she remembered.

“This one begs forgiveness for my rudeness, and thanks her master for visiting.”

Silence.

He started walking past her. “How long are you going to kiss the ground? It is a good practice to worship the spirit of the earth, but surely there are cleaner places to do so than an alley.”

There was more fire in his voice now too. He had never rebuked her with such energy. Was he finally seeing her as a student?

She stood and followed him and his painfully slow steps.

“You are here working a contract with the military?”

“Yes, master, this one has-”

“I have a favor to ask you, child.”

“Of course. Anything mas-”

“It concerns the boy.”

The damn boy again. She must be missing something. Some hidden power. She’d learn from the master and look harder.