I awaken, as before, to the sounds of many men in slumber's warm embrace.

My eyes open, and I assess my surroundings.

I know now that there is no escape.

I feel and hear my stomach growl. I can't remember the last time I ate.

My stomach leads me to the austere warden of this prison camp.

He sits comfortably with his eyes closed.

"Sir."

The man doesn't budge.

"Sir, is there any food?"

The man finally opens his eyes.

He sits, appraising me.

"Immortals don't eat."

The man closes his eyes as if he had explained anything.

Does that mean that all the men here are immortals? Or does it mean that those who aren't worthy are left to die?

I walk past the man. He shows no concern for my leaving.

Fortunately, water was available while working. But, now I'm forced to starve.

I walk into the night air and find my vision drawn to the sky.

My cultivation begins with my breathing technique. I envision each breath incorporating the stars into myself.

"When days are won by those of might. Glory to the sun, there is none like the knight."

I chant the mantra as I look up to the knight constellation group.

The knight in the sky stands true, openly facing the abyssal darkness.

I rely on my manual to identify the formation. I need it to determine the stars. I wonder if I even know what I'm looking for.

As I grow oblivious to the world around me, I feel like the knight I am contemplating is not simply at rest. The knight is at war with the shadows.

The surrounding stars tell the story of where the knight has been and where the knight is going.

I breathe in the chi of heaven and out the pollution that contaminates my body and soul.

My hunger abates as I absorb the energies of heaven and earth.

Before I grow too caught up in my meditation, I think it wise to return to catch some sleep before dawn arrives.

The warden shows no sign of noticing my return. I pass the man and find myself among the sleeping men.

Sleep comes slowly. But, eventually, I fall into a peaceful slumber.

Morning comes, and we find ourselves again facing the day's labor.

I notice for the first time how lean my fellows are. This is different from the sort of leanness that is sustainable.

My eyes are open to the acolytes who do not rise. Some fates are left to end in silence.

A fearful alarm rises in me as I contemplate my mortality. I was not overweight when I came here, and the lack of food combined with hard labor threatens my vision of the future.

I didn't even want to come here, and now I'm left to die. It's not fair.

I want to refuse to work for the taskmasters. But I'm wary of the consequences.

I fulfill my daily quota and find a quiet corner to meditate.

The advice in the tome to balance the energies of night with those of day strikes my mind.

I open my eyes to the sky. The sun stands with undisputed magnificence.

I find myself thinking about the age of the sun and how humans claim immortality as their own. I find it hard to believe there has ever been an immortal as old as the sun that stands above all.

The beginnings of what the manual calls a dao forms within me.

It changes the way I see the world around me.

My meditation continues as I absorb the Yin energies of night into my energetic core.

My internal energies boil over as Yang meets Yin like a fire that meets water.

My body heats up as the world falls in upon itself.

I find myself breathing hard, the world an uncanny grey.

I sprawl out on the ground, waiting for this experience to pass.

The cultivation comes to an early end, and I stand up sweating.

The warden doesn't show any sign of noticing me as I pass him by and find my bedroll.

I'm early to bed and early to wake. My stomach rumbles as my only food is air and water.

"Sir," I say to the mellow warden.

He is unresponsive as ever.

"Sir, surely there must be something here to eat. Please."

The man opens his eyes, an irritated look on his face.

"You want Food?" he asks.

"Yes, sir. Please."

The man motions to the door.

"If you want food, go get it."

With that said, the stoic figure closes his eyes to continue his meditation.

I realize my failing. This is an open prison. The wilds are my table. I can eat if I can find something to eat.

With that settled, I turn to the world outside. It's still hours from dawn, and my search would be fruitless without the light of day.

I find my place to cultivate and gaze at the knight in his righteous dance through the heavens.

The constellations teach me their lessons slowly, easing my way into the realm of immortals.

The sky begins to warm, and I think to my stomach. But, the warden comes out. His eyes upon me, he motions to the tool shed.

I wonder at the consequences of not meeting one's quota.

Another day producing planks and firewood passes slowly.

Finally, my harvest is finished, and I can turn to the more pressing matter of my stomach.

With my experience as an herbalist, I should be able to find something.

For the first time, I notice my peers turn to the forest. They are not simply seeking privacy. They seek sustenance.

I follow suit and go to the fringes, hoping to avoid trespassing on the hunting grounds.

I scavenge upon a cliff face and find a root vegetable that I know to be safe to eat.

I try to eat the tuber raw and find it sour.

Despite my desperate hunger, I find the vegetable inedible.

I'll need fire to cook the item.

Without much choice, I pocket the foodstuff for later and expand my search.

More starchy vegetables are found, and I feel I've come upon my first meal since my abduction.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

I find a flint rock and gather the fuel for my fire.

With the flame rising, my anticipation of glorious food is almost realized.

I put the first vegetable over the fire when I hear a thump behind me.

As I turn to see the source of the sound, I feel a sharp pain in the back of my head.

I fall before my fire. The light dims until I lose consciousness.

When I come to, I realize what had happened. Someone mugged me.

My fire has gone out, I feel a slight chill in the night air.

Even when I work for my meal, another claims the spoils from my scavenging.

My head still hurts from the blow.

I feel my dao, my way, wounded in its formative moments.

One of my peers took from me. The theft hurts more than the back of my head.

My dao is still beginning. This lesson will have many consequences that I still need to comprehend.

The cliff face is dangerous to move around on in the dark. So, I settle in till dawn, watching the heavens as they pass.

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

Gradually, as I breathe, my soreness evaporates.

Rather than subsisting on food, I focus on the ethereal chi that permeates the world.

My energetic core consumes chi like a sponge. Ever hungry for more.

Seeking insight, I open my 'Cultivating the Constellations' manual.

'The first hurdle for the aspiring cultivator is establishing one's energetic core as a solid construct. This formation is known as the soul stone.

'Soul stone formation is not restricted to humans. The soul stones of spiritual beasts, monsters, and demons are highly sought commodities.

'It is advised for the aspirant to be wary of others having knowledge of their soul stone.'

I sit numbly, thinking about the dangers I face.

If I get food to eat, people will beat me and take what's mine.

If I cultivate and follow the path of immortals, people will hunt me for my soul stone.

The hunger bites into me as I resolve to form my soul stone.

Watching the heavens pass me by, I seek to absorb more of the chi that transcends matter.

But, no matter how much I absorb, it escapes through me like water through a sieve.

I realize the task before me is to fold my energetic core repeatedly, layering the energy upon itself.

My stomach growls, bringing me back to reality. Dawn is upon me.

I sigh as I stand up, scale the cliff face, and find my way back to the barracks, where men are busy preparing for the day.

I find my place in their ranks and go to work hungry.

I'm more feeble as I excavate the jewels and ores my masters claim.

They take us as slave labor but don't even feed us.

Today, I watch a skinny man fall to the ground without the energy to lift himself back up.

None of my fellows turn to aid the man as they continue their harvest.

When I finish my quota, I turn to the man and move to help him to his feet.

"Leave him," comes the stern voice of one of my watchers.

"But, sir..."

"Leave him. We will take care of him."

The starved man isn't even conscious of our conversation. I question my morality if I leave this man to the watchers.

I resign myself to leaving the man to his fate.

The name of this sect is fitting.

Our fate before our conscription was divided by this dammed sect.

I find myself hating the immortals whose ranks I seek to join.

They act like they deserve what those below them earn. Our very lives are taken for servitude.

I give the unfortunate a final parting look as I leave the quarry.

My anger stirs ineffectually within me.

What can I do? I can't even feed myself.

I resolve myself not to be taken advantage of again. Rather than hunt for another slave's food, I turn myself to my training.

The hunger is a beast that I must tame to survive this trial.

My meditation starts in a cross-legged position.

I absorb the chi of heaven and earth and breathe out the pollution in my core.

The breath is my focus as I absorb the yang energies of day and sun.

I watch my balance of energies boil over and out of my core.

Over and over, I fold my energy, ever purifying my core.

Time becomes a difficult thing to measure in the days that follow.

My stomach has ceased to rumble, demanding food. But, my ribs show ever more prominently on my chest.

I've become skin and bones, but have yet to form my soul stone.

The energies escape me while I meditate, and I begin to despair.

I'm still expected to labor with the other acolytes. And, I can't help but think of the man I'd left in the quarry. Am I to share his fate?

Those I notice failing to rise from their bedrolls or falling during labor only seem to grow.

Faces trade in and out daily as I struggle to get through just one more day.

The night is where I find the most improvement.

The constellations in the sky are a woven tapestry of creation. The lessons are layered.

The knight constellation teaches me most of the lessons I seek. Darkness seeks to find him unaware. But, the knight knows and is cautious of the abyss. His blade ever poised to face the threat.

My cultivation grows, and I feel myself on the cusp of a breakthrough.

Night and day melt together. My cultivation only stalled by the demand for labor.

I want to refuse to labor for my watchers. But, by now, I've witnessed those who have disappeared from our ranks. The longer I stay with this sect, the more sinister I find it.

At some point, the hunger returns, and I find myself crippled by stomach pains.

I can't even leave my bedroll as I begin resigning myself to my fate.

On the first day, I was left alone.

I still earnestly turn my energetic core over and over. I vainly hope to solidify my soul stone.

"Take him," I hear on the second day.

My warden tells a pair of acolytes to carry me into the wilderness.

"The beasts of the forest will see to him," comes the stern man's dismissive comment.

I don't even have the energy to argue with them as they carry me to the depths of the woods.

The two men carrying me aren't cruel as they drag me off. Neither are they kind.

Left to die alone, I desperately focus on my inner energies.

Despite my desires, I can't quite manifest my energetic core onto the physical plane.

My second day passes, and I'm severely dehydrated.

I feel myself on the cusp of my breakthrough. I'm so close. But I lose consciousness.

I awake to a sensation of pain.

Something is biting my hand.

I pull my hand free of the vicious teeth.

Somehow, I have control over my body again.

I awake to the world around me.

A pair of wolves growl maliciously at me, upset their meal doesn't stay down.

I can feel it. The energy of the universe comes into me with every breath.

A portion escapes my cracked soul stone.

As much as I'd like to focus on my breakthrough, my situation is precarious.

I've never had to fight. And, now, that's my only path to survival.

One wolf leads and pounces at me.

I blindly swat at the beast. I deflect the animal's attack. But the other beast follows the leader and charges me.

I don't close my eyes to the wolf's attack this time. I, somewhat more skillfully, swat the second wolf away.

Both beasts put some distance between us.

Their growls grow silent as the leader snorts dismissively.

The pair trot off till I lose track of them.

Now that I have a moment to myself, I feel more powerful than ever.

Only now do I realize how empty I had been before cultivating to this point.

I've done it. I've passed the acolyte phase. Now, I am adept.

A sense of pride courses through me.

No longer am I dependent on food and water. Now, the chi of the heavens is my mana.

A idea occurs to me as I'm caught up in thoughts on what this means for me in the Divided Fates sect.

As far as the sect knows, I'm dead.

Written off as a failure.

I don't have to return to the sinister organization that burns through its conscripts like grass to a fire.

Without a second thought, I begin running.

My lungs pump the energies of the universe into my cracked soul stone. As the stone is imperfect, it leaks the chi I absorb back into the world. Only when I perfect my core will I retain all the energy that I cultivate.

For now though, I feel energy and power on a level I'd never considered.

I laugh with childlike delight as I feel like I'm flying in my run.

My body lingers in the air with every stride.

The forest at night is peaceful until my form breaks through, a cheerful laugh filling the area.

Then I come to a stop. I can't afford the luxury of joy right now. If I draw the attention of any of the watchers, then my escape is lost. For all I know, they'd harvest my soul stone when they learn of it.

I cautiously slow my pace and steal myself into the night.

Aside from the wolves, I find myself undisturbed in this forest.

My progress is steady as I follow the stars. I find the lessons of the heavens to be never-ending.

I don't know the limits of the immortal overlords. They could allow me to get only so far before tightening the snare.

The night passes into day, the sky warming with the light of dawn.

I marvel at the energy flowing into me. It's as unconscious as breathing. I start pushing myself as I gain distance from the Divided Fates sect.

It occurs to me that I don't know where my home is.

My study of the stars has only begun after reading the manual. The manual was left to be returned to its library.

I don't mourn long for the instruction manual, I've already learned to read the stars with it. It is the stars that teach me in the ways of cultivation.

I consider myself lucky that they left my clothes with me. But, then, my clothes are common articles that few would covet.

My path leads me East to a river.

I search vainly for clues on how to get back home.

I could swim across and continue my Eastward transit or follow the river I've come upon.

I take the latter course of action and find the river a tributary to a larger river.

Time passes as I travel in a Southern direction. I must be past the sect's boundaries by now.

Eventually, the river leads me to a small village.

As I come through, I find myself intruding on a tense moment.

"Old man, this village owes taxes for the protection of the Divided Fates sect."

Brawny men flank a man with no neck as he intimidates a small gathering of villagers.

"Chief, we can't-"

The old chief raises a hand to silence the descent.

"Your Excellency, please consider our circumstances. Harvest is yet far away. If we give up the prescribed tax, we won't have enough to feed ourselves."

The leader of the Divided Fates group yawns. "That is not my concern. Perhaps we could arrange something else. We could write off a portion of your tax if you're willing to have a few of your young women work in the facilities we run in Callo city."

The chief bristles at the suggestion. Anger grows in the mob of villagers.

"Never!" comes the righteous anger of a young man.

The gang leader's mouth twitches and, in a moment, the angry youth is on the ground.

The young man coughs up a mouthful of blood.

"I will not repeat myself. Pay what you owe."

As I watch the display, I can't help but think that the village's protectors are such in name alone. In reality, they're just a gang of brutes out for profit.

The elderly chief resigns himself, "We will pay you."

The gang leader brightens.

"Good man. Your village is always so dependable."

I stick to the shadows and let the villagers and extortionists conduct their transactions without me. It is none of my business.

Before long, the village is clear of their unwanted guests.

I think it time to leave when I hear, "Who are you?"

Behind me comes the voice of an adolescent boy.

I turn to the lad.

"I, uh... I'm Rook."

The boy looks me over.

"You're not with them, are you?"

I think of the Divided Fate sect that I had just left.

"No."

The boy seems to be mulling over something.

"I can ask my dad if you can stay for dinner."

"No, I-"

"Cain. Where are you, boy?"

Around a corner comes a middle-aged man. As the man sees me, a scared look comes over his face.

I'm surprised by the man's demeanor. But, considering what just happened, I understand.

"Come here, boy."

The lad dutifully comes to his father's side.

"I told him you might let him have dinner with us."

The man looks from the boy to me. I feel his gaze on my skeletal form.

"Looks like you need it," the man comments, sympathy in his eyes.

"I'm fine," I say, conscious of the village's food shortage.

The man debates for a minute before saying, "No, sir. Please accept a place at my table."

I find myself feeling self-conscious and say, "Thank you."

The shack Cain and his father call home is closed, and we enter—a woman with a weary air about her greets us.

"Darling, Cain. Who's this?"

Her demeanor is unafraid of the stranger before her.

"He's Rook," Cain says, proud of his knowledge.

I smile, trying to ease my tension.

"You're skin and bones," the woman comes close and cups a hand on my chin.

I look down in embarrassment.

"Oh, dear boy. What have you been through?"

I find myself afraid to tell them my story.

"No matter," comes the husband's voice. "You'll be with us tonight."

I find myself grateful for the acceptance of this family.

We settle down on the floor. The poverty is similar to my own home. Not even cushions for us to sit on.

The meal of the evening is a rice gruel.

"I'm sorry we can't offer you more. But, the chief has ordered strict rationing."

I gratefully accept the offered meal. It's not dissimilar from my meals at home.

I think fondly of home—my mother and father. My life with them wasn't luxurious. I've had to work every day from a young age. The hills and untamed land brought me the most profit.

A tear escapes as I reminisce on the life I had stolen from me.

I return to the present moment before allowing myself to seethe with anger.

"Thank you for sharing this with me."

Despite my lack of need for food, it is nice to savor the meal.

No matter how bland the gruel is, it is the first thing other than water that I've had since my abduction. And, as such, it is something great.

The family shares a smile.

"We don't have anything to sleep on. But you're welcome under our roof."

The boy smiles up at his father.

"Thank you." I feel myself welling up with emotion.

After the meal, I find myself with time to reflect on my traumas.

Despite how much I'd like to mourn for my loss, I am conscious of what I have gained.

I sit outside the small shack, watching the sun disappear over the horizon.

The stars take the sky in an elaborate tapestry.

I watch the knight fend off threats while the wanderer travels in the knight's wake.

It's an interesting story. Whereas the knight is ever ready for threats, the wanderer walks blindly. The wanderer trusts and suffers at times. But, the wanderer experiences more of the cosmos and grows over time.

I return to my breathing, slowly sucking in the lighter chi and exhaling my pollution.

Time passes differently for a cultivator than for normal folk.

My mind falls inward, and I remember the mantra I've learned. By cultivating the mantras, I redefine my dao.

A dao is a strange concept for a cultivator. It is the way by which one lives one's life.

My life experience is lacking for me to have a profound dao.

If anything, I can say that I want freedom. The Divided Fates sect would have used me in ways I can't even imagine.

I don't want to be used.

It's a simple dao that I want.

Like the wanderer in the sky, I want to grow for my experiences.

The warm rays of morning tell me I lost track of myself in meditation.

Coming to my feet, I stand with a salute, hand over fist, to the home of those who generously shared.

Despite walking the path of immortals, I prefer the little people from whose ranks I was raised.

As I find my way to the road leading to civilization, the village begins to awaken.

As I walk, I rotate my core. My cracked soul stone absorbs the chi of heaven and earth. The more I build my energetic core, the more the cracks and fissures will mend. And thus, the more powerful a cultivator I will become.

I'm at a loss for how I should continue my training. The basics I learned from the 'Cultivating the Constellations' manual will give me a proper foundation for continuing to grow.

The story of the stars is an area that I need to study.

I'd like to find a bookstore that would offer me access to the knowledge I seek.

I am lost in thought as I walk along the road.

Hours pass as I walk, and I see many people coming from my destination.

Callo City, according to the signs.

I don't know a thing about the city and can't help but feel trepidation at finding myself in a big city for the first time.

I swallow my fear and continue my path.

As with the wanderer, I will likely walk into danger unaware.

Before I reach my destination, I find night once more take the world.

My night vision is growing more effective as I walk well into the night before finding a place to recline and watch the stars as they pass.

I could spend the rest of my days like this.

A footloose dao. Not bound by anything.

It sounds nice, and I would like to know if I need anything. I could keep walking rather than going to the city and buying books to help me.

The knight has a purpose. He guards the path that the wanderer walks. This is a lesson in the cost of freedom. Diligently watching for danger allows freedom to exist.

I need to learn more about the world I've been brought into, regardless of my wants.

The day comes, and I find myself at the city's fringes.

As with everything in my life, Callo is a place of squalor and filth.

As I come more fully into the city, I note a cliff face overlooking everything. Over the steep rock wall are several palatial mansions.

It strikes me that the world is one of extremes. Both decadence and poverty can live so close to one another.

As it stands, my goal lies within the lower city.