Days and weeks are nothing as I try to perfect a pill that I have yet to make even a superior version of.

The ascended immortal occasionally comes down from the heavens to check on me.

"You are a marvel to have taken that pill so many times. What is it that makes you take on such suffering? Desire for power?"

I chuckle, "Yes, power is one reason. I don't want to be powerless to help myself again."

"Like when you were conscripted into your sect?"

I nod my head.

"You know, in my day, cultivator sects were something you had to earn entry into.

"It's odd how this new generation approaches cultivation."

I contemplate my relationship with this woman. She holds a knife to my throat. But seems to be helping me to grow.

It's not a master-pupil relationship. It's like a friendship.

I had thought that the powerful only knew how to take.

"Well," she says. "Keep up your practice. It makes perfect, after all."

With that, she leaves me to my meditation.

My thoughts are filled with crafting practices to refine the pill she wants.

Age of herbs, components, grain size, order of ingredients, time of day. The number of permutations is mind-boggling.

Every few days, I attempt a new variant. And, every few days, I fail.

The tropical forest is ever abundant with her harvest, and I lack for nothing in the pills I craft.

Days and weeks and months pass as I swing from one extreme to another.

The agony of the Dragon's Scream doesn't get easier with time. My continuing refinement of the recipe makes the effect even more potent.

With every failed crafting, I taste the agony of defeat. And, my screams echo through the jungle.

The pills I use to rebuild my damaged soul soothe my nerves following my torment.

I begin to mark time with the rotation of pills.

With at least one Dragon's Scream pill a week, I pass from a handful to a dozen to several dozen.

My willpower grows for the resolve it takes to swallow something so terrible.

As the number of pills grows, I return to counting the days.

I must have been on this island for over a year by now.

And half of that since I last saw Jack.

I am close to a breakthrough toward a superior-quality pill. The crafting process variable is getting closer but failing to reach perfection.

As time progresses, I have achieved my goal of crafting a superior Dragon's Scream pill.

This time, when I ingest it, the pill tendrils of energy that feel like fire extend out and rip the spiritual world back into my soul well. The sensation is peculiar. It hurts. But, so too did it before. Now, it is as though the fire in my meridians burns so hot that it is beyond pain.

A cry is released, a primal act. My cries grow more desperate until my scream echoes throughout the island.

My soul body grows brittle, and the scars that stood so strongly begin to break. I am too caught up in transcendent pain to direct any energy to the stabilization of my soul and body.

The pill's effects last for hours, and I am curled up in a ball, moaning feebly.

The pills that I continue to craft are superior. The process is growing towards perfection.

But, as the potency rises, so too does the recovery time.

Now that I've advanced a stage, my progress has slowed. There are too many minute details that can affect the outcome of the pill.

One night, the ascended immortal ripples through the sky like a pebble in a pond.

She says, "Greetings, little immortal."

I rise and bow respectfully, "My lady."

"Good work with your alchemy. Only a few alchemists can claim superior quality.

"And, your screams... Do you know they talk of you in town? The lunatic immortal."

I might feel self-conscious about it. But my screams have become such a part of my life that I'm not sure what a week without them would be like.

"I wonder, little immortal, are you ready to advance to the next stage of your ascendance?"

I puzzle at her words.

"You are way off from floating through the clouds. But you could practice with a flying sword.

A broad sword materializes in her hand, and she casts the weapon to the ground at my feet.

I am startled at the sudden movement, her speed well beyond me.

"Well," she says. "Take it."

I gingerly grasp the blade's handle.

"Might want the soul cuffs off."

I take her advice and stow the weights.

I'm at a loss for how to control a flying sword.

"First," she begins, "you must channel your ki or spirit into the sword. You must imprint your soul onto the blade."

I follow her advice and send my spirit into the sword.

"From there, you must recognize the presence of the physical sword as an extension of your spiritual body."

With my consciousness extended into the sword, I view it as a new limb.

The woman smiles encouragingly.

"Now, release the sword from your hand while maintaining a grip through your soul body.

Miraculously, the sword levitates in the air.

"Add this to your training, and you will find ascension."

With the sword hanging in the air, I bow hand over fist to my benefactor.

She smiles encouragingly before disappearing as a ripple in space.

I take the sword in hand and test it out.

The only other time I've touched a sword was when I broke Jack's blade.

I marvel at the intricacy of the weapon. Patterns are woven into the steel, and the handle has a dragon motif carved into it.

I wonder at the value of this gift from the ascended immortal.

From here, I move on with my life. Practice with soul manipulation of the sword is prime in my practice.

And, with the new weapon, I turn to practicing strikes with the implement.

I need to find a proper teacher to advance in my swordsmanship. And my benefactor doesn't have that kind of relationship with me.

I feel stalled in my refinement of the Dragon's Scream pill for days, weeks, and months.

The effect of the superior pill is like oil and water compared to its common-grade counterpart.

Fire scorches my nerve endings, and my scream releases the tension I experience in my convulsions.

I move into a phase in my life where time passes as moments.

At one moment, I'm training. Another, I'm gathering herbs. And, yet another, I'm crying out in agony.

Months become the briefest of things as I begin to measure time in years.

My alchemy has reached its apex, and I will never escape this island.

"Don't forget. You leave without the perfect pill being offered to me; your life is forfeit."

She reminds me as if reading my mind and my desire to leave this paradise.

On the positive side of things, I lack for nothing as I build my craft.

One year becomes two, and two becomes three.

My progress towards the perfect Dragon's Scream pill grows by inches.

Every week or so, I try again. On the rare occasion, I fail to make a superior pill. Some steps in the crafting process out of synch.

I find more lessons when I fail than when I succeed.

After some time in a rut, I try to clear my mind of what I've come to learn about alchemy. I approach the cauldron with an empty mind as I craft the pill with its basic recipe.

As I relearn the recipe from scratch, I find ever more mistakes.

But time passes, and I climb over my defeats and into the superior realm again.

Years pass as I iterate again and again.

My insights grow with every failure.

"You know," my benefactor says. "You don't have to be so serious all the time."

It does strike me that it has been a long time since I laughed or even smiled. Months or even years.

I look to my overlord.

"There is much for me to learn and do."

She smiles sadly at me, "You don't have to consume every pill you make. It's unhealthy to suffer so much, even if you're immortal.

I find myself agreeing with her.

"Just take a month or two off and go to the beach. Get a tan or maybe seduce a nubile young maiden from the town."

I can't tell if she's serious about that last piece. But there is wisdom in her words.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

"Okay, my lady."

I travel from my training site.

My eyes survey the sickly trees affected by my violent cultivation technique.

I let out a sigh of air as I bring out my flying sword.

After hopping on, I fly through the trees and find an open space in the canopy.

In a moment, I am soaring through the sky.

Even this thrill isn't enough to bring a smile to my face.

I let out a long-suffering sigh as I find myself on the beach.

After hopping off the sword, it comes gracefully back into its sheathe.

I disrobe and stow my clothes in my cosmos ring.

I sigh once more as I walk out into the warm ocean.

I lie on my back. Gently floating on a cushion of buoyant water.

And that's how my vacation begins.

I watch the sun and the moon pass as I enjoy the peace of being enveloped in warm water.

For the first few days, I don't do anything but lie on my back, letting the waves rock me back and forth.

The stars teach me their lessons, and I can't help but feel like a slave.

My benefactor isn't a slave driver. She simply demands perfection.

Rather than feeling like a slave to her, I feel like a slave to a dao that is not my own.

My desire is that of the wanderer. To see the world in its vastness.

But, now I'm stuck. Captured by my failings. My paradise becomes limbo.

Time passes as I witness the rotation of the heavens. The characters face the ever-changing adversities of life.

I breathe in the chi of the heavens and out my pollution.

As the days pass, I note the pruning of my skin.

I should look for other entertainment for my vacation.

I put on my clothes and leisurely walked along the beach until I find the small town that holds the port.

I am conscious of my poverty and look to the general store.

"Welcome," comes a chipper voice.

I walk up to the counter.

"My god, young man. You look like death."

I become conscious of my sunk-in cheeks and frail arms.

"I'm sure a nice hot meal will set you straight. Beth's diner is the best in town."

"Can I sell this to you?"

I pop out a flask of health potion.

The store clerk looks shocked to see something so exotic in his store.

"May- May I try some first?" the man asks.

I nod, and he pours a little from the flask into a cup.

After a swig, he smiles a pleased smile.

"We can do business."

The man pays a fair bit for the potion, and I have money for Beth's.

"Take care out there. And, please come again."

As I exit the store, I bump into a man.

I continued walking until I hear, "Hey."

I slowly turn to the man.

"Yeah, you."

The man looks little more than a boy.

"You owe me an apology."

I look him over.

"I'm sorry."

I turn to leave.

"Bastard!" the punk grabs me by the collar.

"Pay me for my trauma. You hurt me, and your apology is weak."

Irritation stirs in me as I look into the man's eyes.

It would be a simple matter to crush the mortal's skull.

With a sigh, I pull out some coins from my recent sale.

"More," the man demands.

I offer more, and the man relents.

"See, that wasn't so hard." He smiles a condescending smile.

The man whistles as he turns to enter the general store.

I mind my affairs and find Beth's diner.

The restaurant is a comfortable environment. Faces turn to me as I enter.

I scan the room. My eyes contact the other patrons before they turn away.

There is no hostility—only curiosity.

I sit and wait for the older woman who minds the restaurant to see me.

"Hello, stranger."

I nod to the woman, "Hello."

The woman's eyes roam across my fragile form.

"Looks like you need a proper meal."

I look at my skinny hands, "Yes, ma'am."

She smiles, "Well, that's what I'm here for. My name's Beth. I own the place."

She waits expectantly.

"Rook, ma'am."

"Rook, then. I have a special of the day that I can get for you in short order."

"Yes, thank you."

She looks to me apologetically, "I need the pay first. It's not that I don't trust you. I just have rules that I live by."

She quotes me a price.

"Thank you," she says with a smile.

From here, I wait for my meal.

Beth comes back to me after putting in the order.

"You a new arrival, Rook? I can't say as I've seen you about. And you seem like someone who stands out."

As I wait for my meal, I say, "Not really."

She puzzles, "Okay, stranger."

I am at a loss for how to continue relating to the woman. I haven't spoken with another person besides the ascended immortal in recent history.

"Rook, you seem like a delicate soul. Don't let life get to you. Eat, drink, and be merry. You never know what life has in store for you. Just take it one day at a time."

I nod my head. Her words are wise to a mortal's ears. But, I find myself looking long into the future.

The meal arrives to disrupt my thoughts. It's toast dipped in egg and cooked with seasoning and jam as garnish.

As I dig into the meal, Beth turns to see her other patrons.

As I finish the first piece of toast, I hear the door open and bang shut.

The steady sound of footsteps reaches my ears.

I see the bully I met outside the general store sitting across from me.

He looks at me a long moment before pulling my plate to himself.

I watch as he takes my last piece of toast and bites into it.

"You surprise me," he speaks through a full mouth. "Here, I thought you some nobody."

The man leers at me with greed in his eyes.

"But you have a cosmos ring and health potions."

The man takes another bite out of my meal.

Beth looks like she wants to help me. But she looks on with pity instead.

"After we parted ways just a bit ago," the man continues. "I realized just how much you hurt me.

"I think you'll agree that your ring and everything in it will be proper compensation."

I watch the man chew up the last of my meal.

I find myself tired of this whole show. Getting up, I turn to the exit.

"Don't turn your back on me!"

The man grabs me by the shoulder.

I don't resist as the man exerts pressure on my shoulder. He turns me around to face him.

I look around to see the other patrons, and Beth is looking anywhere but at me and the gangster.

The man is practically snarling as he says, "On your knees. Show proper respect to your superiors."

I gaze steadily into this man's eyes and can't help but see a mighty crayfish in the ponds back home. Ever confident, the crayfish raises its mighty pincer to the threat even when faced by a human who can crush it with a single step.

I grow tired of the punk's display and turn to leave.

"I said, don't turn your-"

The man's voice cuts out as his hand reaches for my shoulder again.

I catch his hand and, with little power, snap his wrist.

A pained moan escapes the man's throat. His wrist was broken.

With that settled, I turn to leave Beth's diner.

As I reach the door, I hear, "Bastard! You'll never escape this island alive. You've just signed the warrant for your death.

"My boss, the lunatic immortal, will have your head."

I look curiously at the mighty crayfish. His words strike me as peculiar.

The rest of the diner hangs with a tense silence.

Beth looks sympathetic. No doubt, thinking my death imminent.

I grow tired of the encounter and leave Beth's diner behind me.

I wander the small town's streets with little else on my mind. Eventually, I find a facility I'd never been to before—a bar.

I've still got coin to spend and turn into the den.

Inside, I find a roughnecked group of people turning their eyes on me.

As my gaze sweeps the room, I look at several burly men.

I walk to the main counter.

"Pick your poison. Rice wine or barley beer," the no-nonsense bartender says.

I've never drank before. Alcohol is a rich man's vice.

I drop some coins on the table, "Rice wine, please."

The bartender nods as he collects his pay.

The curious glances I get don't let up after the initial look.

As my wine arrives, a jovial-looking man with a red nose and cheeks approached where I sit at the counter.

"Hello there, stranger," the man says.

"Hello." I'm at a loss for how to talk to the man after my solitude that has lasted for years. Only being broken by the ascended immortal's occasional return.

"You're a curious fellow," the man continues. "I haven't seen you around town before. And I know everyone who comes off the boats."

Suspicion comes through his voice.

I take a sip of my drink.

"How did you come to our fair island?"

I can't help but feel that it's none of his business.

"Boat," I say flatly.

"You couldn't have been a stowaway, could you?"

The red-faced man is starting to annoy me.

I continue drinking my beverage.

"Just curious, friend. We don't need vagrants in our beautiful town.

As the man returned to his affairs, I hear a loud bang as the bar's door slams open.

Six men walk in—one of which I recognize.

"That's him, brother. He broke my wrist."

The large man at the front of the gang looks me over.

"And he has a cosmos ring," the leader's voice rings out. His eyes looked covetously at my hand.

The man walks over to me, where I drink the last of my wine.

The bartender looks like he wants no part in what's about to happen.

"First thing's first. Hand over the ring.

I slowly set my cup on the counter.

"No," I say.

The big man and his men start laughing.

His laugh turns to a sneer.

"I said, hand over that ring."

The man grabs me by the back of my head. I don't guard against the man as he slams my face into the counter.

It doesn't hurt. And I find myself watching this engagement as though it were happening to someone else.

"Fine," the man says. "We can get to the fun part first."

He lifts my weight and throws me to two men, who each grab me by the arm.

"Let's take this fool to the boss. If anyone knows anything about pain, it's the lunatic immortal."

I let myself be dragged through the town.

Thinking about the chances of being led to a cultivator, I close myself off from the surrounding chi.

The men aren't gentle. But, I feel nothing when they manhandle me.

Several people cross our path only to look away.

The jungle envelopes us as we dive deep into the territory adjacent to where I've made my home for years.

The jungle wilds give way to the makings of a camp.

Several men come out to witness the commotion.

"Your Excellency, we have one who has no respect for your name."

The man has his back to us. Long hair runs down his shoulders in a scraggly mess.

"What do I care for some foolish miscreant? Kill him and be done with it."

The leader of the gang looks from me to his boss.

"Your Excellency. This man has a cosmos ring."

The shirtless boss straightens his back.

"Oh, that is interesting."

The man begins to turn.

"If it's a lesson in pain you want, I suppose I can teach you."

The gang members exchange excited looks.

I watch as the boss meets my eyes.

The moment lingers as confusion registers.

"Oh heavens, no," the man whispers as comprehension approaches him.

The man runs forward and slams his forehead into the dirt.

"Your- Your excellency."

The gangsters puzzle as they watch the display.

The two men holding me let go, and I stand over their boss.

It's a dramatic change from how the hooligans thought this exchange would go.

"Boss..."

"Whose boss do you claim? I know nothing of what you've done." The terrified man's emotion makes the gang members' faces go white.

As one, they all take a step back.

I measure the man who bows before me. He is a cultivator. But, his soul well is weak. So weak that I hadn't even noticed him despite his proximity.

I let out a sigh.

This isn't any fun. They're all as crayfish before me. Stepping on them wouldn't make me feel any better.

I turn from the bowing man and walk through the gathering, each man stumbling backward.

My eyes meet those of the first punk. There is terror in his eyes.

But I move on. I let the show reach its climax. And that's enough.

They're all afraid to make a sound. And I leave behind my audience as I return to town.

The first drink of rice wine didn't give any buzz as alcohol is said to.

I find my way back to the bar.

Several curious gazes reach me as I face the bartender.

He's busy nervously wiping a mug.

"Rice wine, please." I drop some coins.

The bartender nods and hastily pours out the wine.

His hand is unsteady, but I pay it no mind.

The other patrons return to their wallowing as I take a swig of my drink.

How did I become like this? Just a husk of a man, a wraith that passes through the domain of the living. I am stirring terror where I pass.

Years of torture have numbed me, and I'm not sure I can get back what I've lost.

I need to move on. To perfect the Dragon's Scream.

I need to be working and doing something productive.

And my vacation, so far, could be better.

I drown my sorrows for the hours of the day, and, come dinner time, I'm no closer to happiness.

I sigh as I leave the bar behind.

Once more, I come to Beth's diner. If nothing else, I would like to put on some weight during this vacation.

"Rook," Beth says. "I heard you were..."

She doesn't finish her thought.

I shrug my bony shoulders.

"Come on in, boy. Sit down."

I come to the seat she is offering.

"You need some fine cooking. And you've come to the right place for it."

Before long, my meal arrives. It's fish and shrimp gumbo. The hint of spice makes It an appealing meal.

Beth watches my eating, "Worthy?"

I nod my affirmation.

"Rook, you are a surprising figure." She mulls over her thoughts on me.

I look at her, my eyes dull.

"Which rock did you crawl out from under? The lunatic immortal's gang doesn't let folk go when they've got harm in mind for someone."

I shrug.

"Boy, you need another serving."

As I pull out some coin, she says, "Ah, ah. It's on me."

I gratefully accept the meal.

Eating as a cultivator is weird. With the chi that surrounds us, food is optional. However, it does contribute to the building of tissues.

I've gone without solid food for years, so my body has withered.

After finishing my plate, Beth looks satisfied.

"The inn down the road is a good place to rest your head."

I nod but know that I'm headed elsewhere.

Dusk gives way to night, and I wander down to the beach.

Once more, the saltwater bath serves as my bed. The stories of the heavens, my lullaby.

I contemplate the immortal. And, how like him I've become. Aloof to the goings on of the rest of the constellations.

It has been a long time since I felt like the sage. With Jack off on his adventure, I can't help but feel alone.

With my ears under the water, I hear the sea's song. It is interesting music, with seemingly infinite notes.

All night, the stories of the heavens and the sea song soothe my damaged soul.

With the coming of dawn, I find my way to Beth's diner.

Days pass as I rest my soul with the sea and fill my belly with Beth's food.

Occasionally, I go to the general store to sell a health potion.

Days pass, and then weeks pass. I catch sight of the odd gang member and, each time we cross paths, the gangster runs away as fast as he can.

As my vacation progresses, I feel the life that has been so distant from me grow closer. My face fights to keep its scowl but is losing the battle.

Notably, my weight has grown as the weeks pass. I'm scrawny by anyone's standard. But, my cheeks are not so sunken in.

Weeks turn into months. And, before I noticed, the vacation I planned for ends.

It's time for me to get back on track.

The crafting of the perfect pill is far from me as the screams return to the island.

The warden of this prison island pops in to see how I'm fairing.

"How was the vacation?"

I shrug. "It was good."

She chuckles, "Good, huh?

"You didn't even annihilate the punks using your name."

"That's not my name," I say as the corner of my lips twitches.

She looks down at me sadly, "But it does describe your behavior.

"I can tell that you're close to perfecting the recipe. Your screams are beginning to sound like the screams of a dragon."

I nod, unconvinced of how close to perfection I am.

"Well, try to get in at least one vacation a year. It helps to keep a fresh head when working on these things."

The ascended immortal vanishes like a ripple on a pond.

I do feel fresh to my task and continue my life of gathering herbs for alchemy, absorbing the pills, and watching the stars.

I have found myself making a habit of resting in the ocean at night. The song of the sea a gentle touch to my fried nerves.

Years pass as I cultivate ever closer to my ascension. The Dragon's Scream is close to perfection. But I still have a wide array of variations to try.

My benefactor is encouraging as she watches over me and my crafting.

"Soon, little immortal. I can tell you're close."

As the months pass, a strange air comes over the island. Great clouds linger over Fire Island. They refuse to disperse and confuse my reading of the stars.

Months pass with this overbearing weight pressing down from above. The top of the volcano juts out into the heavy clouds.

It's odd how these clouds neither pass nor drop their burden of rain.

"Keep going," the ascended immortal commands.

There is a hunger in her that I'm not accustomed to seeing.

And, every time I sit down to craft the Dragon's Scream, she silently observes my crafting.

She is undeterred by the failures, always saying, "Soon."

One day, I set out to craft the Dragon's Scream pill.

The moment I pick up the first herb, I hear the sound of thunder in the heavens.

I channel my spiritual energy into my every move and ingredient.

Thunder crashes out again as the herbs are fine-tuned in their grain size.

The cauldron is warmed. Every tool is an extension of my spiritual body.

Minutes pass like hours as I strive for perfection in every variable.

The thunder grows more pronounced as I feel my benefactor's presence.

Her gaze burns into me.

Each step in the recipe sets off a flash of light and a peal of thunder in the sky.

I stay focused on my task, not letting the sky distract me.

I can tell when the ascended immortal's attention has turned from me towards the heavens.

Tribulation lightning strikes out at me while I craft. But, my benefactor moves with greater speed than lightning and intervenes.

I spare none of my focus as I bake the pill.

The lightning cascades from the sky. Dozens of jets of electricity barrel down for me and my pill.

As ever, my benefactor protects me from every descending strike of the heavens.

The thunder shakes the earth, and I worry it could damage my pill.

The final stages pass and I pull out a perfect Dragon's Scream pill. It is purple.

As the pill cools, the heavens grow more desperate.

The ascended immortal has a triumphant look on her face, laughing at the impotence of the heavens.

The pill is done, and the tribulation lightning desperately unleashes its power to destroy my pill.

She blocks a final blast from the clouds and appears before me and my heaven-defying pill.

She has eyes only for the pill as she takes it in hand.

One last bolt of lightning crashes down to be swatted aside.

With relish, my benefactor swallows the pill.

As soon as the pill disappears, the tribulation lightning falters.

I watch in amazement as the immortal before me experiences ecstasy.

She is too caught up in her jubilee to notice me.

Then, a convulsion courses through her. The effect of the pill coming across her form.

A sweat takes her brow as she begins to moan.

Before long, her moans become cries.

I feel some sympathy for her. But I know what follows.

All at once, I feel the encroachment of the tendrils of energy from her soul expands.

I feel lacerations on my soul body as it seeks to suck me in. I jump back and run from the hazard.

Soon, I hear the screams. They resound throughout the island.

I watch a flock of birds fly to the horizon.

Her screams are primal, and a chi is laced into the sound. Her power on full display.

For hours, she screams like a dragon.

When, at last, her pitiable screams grow silent, I return to her side.

The trees and vegetation are ghostly white.

I take up a seated position by this powerful person brought low by a pill I made.

I can only imagine the growth that she experienced during her trial.

She lies unconscious for several hours.

When she stirs, she gives me a bewildered look.

I wait for her to remember.

Gradually, a smile takes her face, and she jumps up.

Energy flows into her from all around. I find myself starved for chi before her gravity well.

"Little immortal!" she calls as she dances into the sky.

She floats down to me.

Standing before me, she bows hand over fist, "Fellow daoist."

I return the salute.

"What was that?" I motion to the dispersing clouds.

Her laughter fills the air before returning to focus.

"Tribulation lightning. The heavens will not abide perfection on earth."

Her words bring new questions to mind. But I save my curiosity for another time.

"Can I assume our agreement is fulfilled?"

She looks down happily from her position in the sky.

"Yes, fellow daoist. Our agreement is fulfilled."

I bow again with respect, "My lady."

My purpose fulfilled, I turn to leave this paradise that has been my prison for years.

With my training with the flying sword, I skip the transit by boat and travel in the style of immortals.

I laugh in delight as I soar over the Saur Sea.

I don't know what to do with myself now that I have freedom.

My thoughts turn to Jack and his path with the Violet Horizon sect. What has he achieved in the years since we parted ways?

Whatever path awaits me, I will follow my dao.

The sea races by below, and soon, I find my way back to land.

The last time I was on the mainland, I crawled across it like a mortal. But, now, I travel in the way of immortals.

My view of the land mass is much greater now. And I find myself looking at the map I bought many years ago.

I still need to figure out where I am and where I'm going. So, I carry on with my journey.

Desert tundra extends past the horizon, and I find my transit lasting days as I fly over the vast desert.

I should be able to find my home now. But it has been many years since I last saw them.

My eyes well up. Thoughts of my past are taking command of my emotions.

I swallow my tears and search for the hill I scoured in search of herbs during my youth.

As I travel, I restrict my consumption of chi—enough to sustain myself. But more is needed to draw out attention.

The land races below me, and I set myself to finding my home.

Days become weeks as I travel through the sky on a flying sword.

As I pass over the land, I find the path I traveled many years ago.

A sigh escapes me as I fly.

The Divided Fates sect's land is in sight. And I don't know its boundaries. For that reason, I give the land a wide berth.

Weeks pass as I comb the land. And, finally, I find the hill of my youth.

It's smaller than I remember.

I hover in the sky over the small village I once called home.

None of the villagers have eyes on the sky.

I am but a specter observing the living.