The wilds beyond Callo pass as I walk. The golden grasses of late summer sway in the breeze.
Trees of vibrant green are burdened with their heavy limbs, yet to face the inevitable shedding of leaves.
I find myself listening to the bird song with contentment.
This wilderness is one that I’ve come to know so intimately in past months, and the lifetime before.
Every medicinal plant I gleaned from carries a touch of my inner energy, my chi. In many ways, I’ve left a part of myself here.
But, no matter how I tie myself to the land, I have people I must see.
My mother and father, my brother, even the girl I once fancied. These are people I haven’t seen in a very long time.
I don’t know how I came to this moment in time. How I gained this opportunity. But, I will not lose it.
Still, I think, I am not who I once was. I’m not a peasant, not a mortal, and not a love-sick youth. I’m not the man I once was. And I cannot be there for those I love.
Mortals and immortals cannot share the same space for long. One is always trampled upon by the other.
My contentment fades as I think of the truth of my identity. And, even more so, the burden of knowledge that comes with returning to the past.
I walk for days on end, the luxury of flight beyond me.
Lower immortals of sufficient power and skill can craft special swords upon which they can fly through the air. But, not just any sword can channel the cultivator’s chi and I have not had the opportunity to craft one of my own.
The task is of the highest importance to me. And, Callo City was not a safe space to show off the smithing skills I acquired in my time in the Violet Sword sect.
My eyes spot a random herb, nettlerattle, growing in the field beyond the road.
Unhurriedly, I step off the beaten path and harvest the plant, a salve of chi left to heal the herb as thanks for its sacrifice.
The little life sings through the aether as its soul body retains its form and grows stronger for my offering.
Humans see the world with such narrow vision. We, so commonly, believe that only the song of those who stand above is beautiful. Rarely do we listen to the weak as they struggle.
This is true more for immortals than for those still touched by mortality.
What does an immortal care for the vain struggles and hardships of others? What purpose does it fulfill to allow another to grow?
As I lie under the stars of the heavens and cultivate my cosmic dao, I watch the immortal as he sits in quiet contemplation.
His insular journey is selfish. And, though I may object to the nature of immortals, I am the same.
I could not share the same sky with Sebastian, or with my teacher.
To stay would be to stagnate, to fall behind.
In the world of immortals, one can only find safety through growth. Others will step on you if you do not stand above.
My thoughts are muddled. My dao, uncertain.
I’ve allowed fear into my heart. And, I’m unable to let it go.
Immortals aren’t the only threat in this world.
The daeva come, from the realm above, for conquest. Their purpose is alien and bloody.
In the war that is to come, sacrifices will be made. Sacrifices that will be paid by the immortals.
The two greatest sects in the land, the Violet Horizon and Steady Sword sects, will come together in unity to face the unparalleled threat. But, they’ll be lacking something.
Unless another learns the art of combat arrays, I fear that, even together, these two great sects will lose.
When the feathered and leather-winged daeva of Aion cast shade upon my world, what will I do?
Stay at home?
I let out a sigh as the weeks of travel pass, with the intermittent picking of herbs.
I’ve long since known where to find my home village.
It was the ignorance of my youth that forced me on a path that led me away from my family.
Now, I find myself on a familiar trail. The village lies just beyond this hill.
A fond smile touches my lips as I wander the grassy hill I, as a youth, harvested my daily living from.
I see a patch of rock roses, small pink flowers that grow from rocky patches. These were always my favorite.
The herbs are gleaned and deposited in my cosmos ring.
The journey has provided me with a plentiful harvest.
My eyes are not the only asset I have for hunting medicinal plants. The spirit world that overlaps the physical one is laid bare before me.
Every plant and animal has its signature in this aetheric plane. The familiar plants sing a song that I can hear. It’s like a ringing beacon. Each herb has a melody of its own.
Finding more rock rose, by its song, I gather even more.
But, I did not come here for harvest.
The night is coming over the world and I stand before the little shack I once called home.
The last time I was here, I found my brother and his wife. They were taking care of my mother.
Despite the imminent reunion, I feel bitter grief at the memory of my mother bedridden and trapped in her mind.
It takes me time to control myself.
I can sense them. A meal of rice gruel is all they have to eat.
I think how ironic it is that, while they subsist on so little, I feed endlessly on the chi of heaven and earth.
With hesitant steps, I tread the path to the door and knock a few times.
A mixture of emotions fills the dwelling. Fear and anxiety.
One, however, abounds with excitement and hope.
Slowly, the door opens a crack.
The eyes of my brother look with fear and surprise.
“Rook!” my mother cries out as she barrels past my brother, Jerol.
She falls on me with her not-quite-frail body.
I feel the moment. A lifetime separated from it.
Soon my father joins my mother in embracing their long-lost son.
My eyes meet my brother’s and I see something I never would have expected from him when I was young. Fear.
He sees through me in this moment, I’m one of them.
Still, my brother’s fear eases and he comes forward to hug me.
“Come in, already,” my mother says through her tears. “You’ve been gone so long!”
I smile sadly, it’s been longer for me than it has been for them.
We all sit on the floor and my mother rushes off to a cabinet and pulls out a rare candle.
Once upon a time, such a luxury would never be spent on family. But, tonight is a special occasion. The prodigal son has returned.
We sit in a circle around the candle stick, its flame flickering time and again.
The room is still dark, with shadows cast beyond us. But, our faces are illuminated.
My mother’s expression is ecstatic. My brother and father, however, have complicated expressions.
“Rook,” my mother says. “Have you been eating enough. You’re so skinny?”
My brother looks at her incredulously.
“Mom, please. Take a look at your son.”
She’s confused for a moment before realization comes over her.
“W-What are you wearing?! Did you…. Did you rob someone?”
My father rolls his eyes, “Dear. Calm down. He didn’t rob anyone. Right?”
He asks the question with more doubt than I think he intended.
“No. I didn’t rob anyone.”
He nods. But, his demeanor grows more serious.
“You’re an immortal,” my brother finally says.
I look at him. “Yes, Jerol. I am an immortal.”
Only my mother seems surprised by my admission.
My father looks into the candle flame for a moment, lost in thought.
My brother smiles a half smile. “That’s good. We were worried.”
My mother looks at me for a long time, “What happened, Rook?”
I find myself chuckling. What happened? What didn’t?
How much can I tell them without being thought insane?
Practically nothing.
“An immortal of the Divided Fates sect took me. I was forced to cultivate or die.”
My father looks up from the flame and at me, “Why are you here then? They wouldn’t let you go?”
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I bite my cheek.
“They thought I was a failure and abandoned me in the forest to be eaten by animals.”
My mother raises a hand to her mouth in alarm.
“I escaped,” I continue. “They don’t even know I managed to form my soulstone. They’re not looking for me.”
Jerol looks tense, “Rook….”
I nod, “I’m going to leave. Rogue cultivators are dangerous to be around.”
My expression feels like a reflection of my despondent spirit.
As my mother starts to cry again, my father reaches out to hold her hand.
He looks at me and says, “I’m just glad to see you’re safe. We’ve been worried for a long time.”
I nod and share a look with my brother.
“My brother’s an immortal,” he says with a smile that looks so familiar.
I share his smile.
The night ends when the candle snuffs itself out.
The following morning, I watch my brother and mother go off to their labors. I’m left alone with my father.
“I have some things I want you to have,” I say privately.
He nods and I share with him a number of items. Potions, medicinal pills, and copper coins in a number he’s not ready for.
“Rook!” he says in alarm. “How did you-?”
I wave aside his concerns.
“Just keep it a secret until you need to use it.”
My father nods.
“Rook,” he says after some time. “You know I’ve always loved you.”
I anticipated this.
“But, I never expected to see you again.”
I smile sadly.
“You were always a kind kid. Just not a strong one.”
His expression is apologetic.
“I never thought you could survive in the world beyond this village. But, I see now that I was wrong. And…”
He’s the one who looks sad now, “I don’t see the kind kid I knew anymore. You’re harder now. Way more than you should be.”
I knew that I wouldn’t be able to show them the boy they knew. But, it’s hard to seem a stranger to one’s parents.
“Hey,” he says, seeing my discontent. “This is good. You’re a man now. More than a man, you’re an immortal. Just…. Just don’t forget what it means to be one of us.”
I feel tears sting my eyes as I nod.
We talk for a time before we part.
I leave the building that was once my home when I hear, “Rook!”
A woman rushes up the path to my old home. She’s very pretty. And her name is Rachel.
I used to know her very well. If anything can be said, it’s that I had a crush on her.
She seems elated to see me.
“Rook! You’re back.”
I watch as she begins to see me as I am and not how I was. It’s always depressing to see yourself in the eyes of another when that other doesn’t recognize you.
“Rook….” She hesitates.
She looks at my clothes with a surprise that turns into alarm.
“Rook…. What…. What’s going on?”
I smile sadly.
“I think we should talk.”
She seems to deflate as I see comprehension dawn on her.
From behind her, a young man approaches.
His gaze is appraising as he observes me. He seems to be deciding whether to be respectful or antagonistic.
I think I know what this is.
In my past life, Rachel would have moved on. And even if I had stayed, I wouldn’t have had the standing to be her husband.
This young man must be the one courting her.
“Who are you?” he asks in a neutral tone.
I smile pleasantly, “I’m Rook.”
His eyes examine my expensive clothes, something that he can’t compete with.
“I heard you went missing,” he says. “Did you somehow succeed out there?”
I can tell he’s implying that I couldn’t attain wealth by any legitimate means.
“Who are you?” I ask pleasantly.
His gaze is even.
“Victor Korey.”
The name Korey is easy to recognize. They’re affluent, by village standards.
“Nice to meet you.”
I turn to Rachel and say, “We can catch up later. I have somewhere I need to be.”
Rachel looks like I’d ripped her heart out. But still, she nods.
I walk away from my home and the pair.
I can tell that I’ve sown unease in the potential betrothed. But, it’s beyond my means to fix.
Even if it were safe for me to stay here for Rachel, I wouldn’t.
There’s another that I fell in love with. And, even if I can’t be with her in this life, I have not forgotten her.
Still, it’s a bitter feeling that lingers in my heart.
I travel through the village, getting the occasional odd look.
Once upon a time, I wasn’t a peer to them. And now, they are no peers to me.
I catch myself forgetting my father’s words so readily.
I can’t forget that these are the people I began with.
My feet carry me to the village’s blacksmith.
Upon entering, I see the old man.
“Welcome.”
“Hello.”
“Just give me a minute to finish this.”
The old man takes his time finishing his work before turning to face me.
As is so often the case in my home village, his eyes are drawn to my expensive clothes. They widen as he searches me.
As comprehension dawns, his gaze becomes fearful and then angry. But then, our eyes meet.
“Rook?”
I look at him with some familiarity, “Hello, Cid.”
His fear fades while his anger grows.
“You’re one of them.”
His hand tightens around the handle of his hammer.
I nod, confirming his assumption.
He looks bitter and caught up in thought.
“Go away, immortal,” he says as he returns to his forge.
I watch him for a moment before saying evenly, “I need something.”
Cid’s anger loses ground to fear.
“And, what will you do if I say no?”
I don’t want to torment the man just to get what I want.
“Rather than discuss what I’ll do, how about we discuss price?”
The old man’s face is flush with emotion, his thoughts transparent.
“First,” he says as he sets down his tools, “tell me what happened. Then…. Maybe, we can talk price.”
I smile slightly, “Of course.”
Cid closes shop and leads me into his office/home.
With shaky hands, the old man pours whiskey into a pair of cups.
His cup is emptied and filled with more.
The spirit seems to calm the man as he looks at me.
“So, immortal, what’s your story?”
I smile.
“As you might have imagined, I was taken by immortals.”
Cid nods, his lips pursed disapprovingly.
“It was cultivate or die. I might as well have died as far as the Divided Fates were concerned.
“They wrote me off as a failure and abandoned me. Thus, I was able to escape on my own. I’m a rogue cultivator with no sect.”
Cid finishes his cup and pours a third.
He looks at me for a long moment before saying, “What a crock of shit.”
I smiled oddly, I knew it was a lot to expect people to buy.
“You trying to tell me you’ve never killed a man? I can see it in your eyes.”
I nod, not wanting to deny the truth.
“I have.”
Cid snorts derisively.
“Was he mortal?”
The question has an edge to it.
“No.”
I speak honestly. Though in the pit, I caused mortals to die.
The old man examines me for a moment.
“How the hell does a kid as innocent as you were come back with so much bad karma. You reak of it, and its only been a matter of months.”
I shrug, “There were circumstances.”
Cid sighs, “Tell me, Rook, would you kill me if I refused you?”
I shake my head, “Of course not.”
The third cup empties and Cid loosens up. He almost seems comfortable.
“You know,” he says. “I had a son once.”
My head nods my understanding.
“He was better than you ever were. He was kind, but not a wimp.”
The man’s gaze grows distant.
“You and him coulda been friends, I think. If you had been a bit older.
“He was gonna inherit this place and give me a retirement. And his mother….”
Cid’s eyes almost leak saltwater. But, he holds them back.
“You dammed immortals took him from me.”
I don’t deny that I have joined the ranks of those who terrorize the mundane mortals.
“What do you want, immortal?” he asks through red eyes.
I set my cup down.
“I need to use your forge.”
The old man starts laughing.
“Hahahaho….” he can’t contain his amusement.
“Little immortal Rook fancies himself a blacksmith after a few months absence. That’s just too damn funny.”
I feel myself crack a smile. It is laughable.
“Hah,” Cid sighs. “I’ll agree, cause I always wanted to see an immortal make an ass out of himself.”
The man pats his legs and stands unsteadily, “Come on, bastard. Show me the difference a few months make.”
I follow the swaying man into the forge and outline my plan of action in my head.
As I look on, Cid lays the tools out before me and crosses his arms. He stands back and watches.
No more words are necessary.
I extend my soul body into the tools and heat the furnace.
My chi is imbued into the metal as I begin to pound it with a force beyond what mortals are capable of.
The metal folds as I employ the Steady Sword smithing technique in my crafting.
Folding and re-heating, only to fold again. The impurities leave the metal with every strike of the hammer.
The load of chi within the sword far exceeds what a common sword I’d crafted in the past would retain.
This isn’t a conventional sword. This is a flying sword.
My essence becomes a part of the tool as I create a receptacle for my inner energies.
Over and over, I hammer the tool until I quench it.
The sharpening is largely decorative. But, by the end of the crafting, it’s a viable combat sword. Though, its primary use is definitively for being ridden through the skies.
I look down both edges of the double-edged sword and test the balance.
I’d say it’s perfect. But, the quality isn’t even superior. And perfection would have been too much trouble.
I nod as I deposit the sword in my cosmos ring.
For the first time in hours, I look up to the aged blacksmith, his expression one of enlightenment.
“Rook,” he wonders. “Who are you?”
I smile what I don’t intend to be an enigmatic smile. “I’m older.”
Cid’s face is pensive in its expression.
“You should leave.”
I nod my head as I depart into the night.
I think to myself as I find my home that I never really knew Cid. He’s a man that never recovered from his losses. In all my life, all he wanted was to be left alone.
But, despite it all, the old man had helped me. He’s a man with character and I’ll regret never knowing him more.
But, such is the life of an immortal. Everyone else withers away.
I think of Rachel and how pretty she is. I know in my heart that I couldn’t bear to watch her crumble into dust.
I can’t even watch my parents as they journey to their inevitable ends.
The strength that came to me through smithing seems to escape me as I enter my childhood home.
Another expensive candle is used to share a meal. And the night passes.
While my kin slumber, I read the stars.
The empty pit that was once filled with voracious hunger seems almost to beckon to me. As if it knows that I’m watching it.
With unsettling thoughts, I pass the night.
The following day sees my family tending their labors.
The weakness in my father, that he tried so hard to hide, seems to have melted away after he consumed one of my potions.
And, though my mother denied needing it, I convinced her to drink a potion of her own.
The fog that she didn’t seem to recognize cleared away in a few moments.
With these small efforts and the stockpile I left in the care of my father, I hope that they can live longer, fuller, lives this time around.
I sense her on her arrival. She waits just down the path to my old home.
I walk out to her.
“Hey.”
She looks away.
“So, you’re an immortal now.”
I feel myself chuckle mirthlessly.
“I am.”
“I…. I understand that you can’t stay,” she says.
I nod.
She lets out her own, joyless, laugh. “You know, I thought I just wanted you to be alive. That so long as you were okay, I could be content with that.”
Rachel sighs despondently.
“Now, I get to lose you twice.”
There are no words for me to express.
“When we were kids,” she says, “I was too good for you. At least, that’s what everyone said. But now…. Now, I can’t even compare.”
I bite my cheek so that I don’t say the wrong thing.
“Rook….” she says as tears spill from her eyes. “I’ll miss you.”
She doesn’t wait for me to say anything. I wouldn’t.
She walks away. My childhood friend and crush who had always been so close, once upon a time, was forever separated from me.
All I can do is watch her disappear.
But, it’s a kindness…. For me.
My thoughts are miserable as I return to the shack and see my parents and brother for the last time in an indeterminate future.
“You have to come back in a year or two,” my mother says through teary eyes. “You were always my favorite.”
“Mom….” Jerol looks flabbergasted before chuckling.
“You may be immortal,” my brother says. “But, you’re still my little brother. Remember to respect your elders.”
I nod to him before we hug.
My father just waves me off when I approach to hug him.
“You’re not a boy anymore, Rook. I may never have been able to teach it to you. But, remember to carry yourself with dignity. People will expect it.
I nod as I meet his gaze.
“Good luck, son.”
My mother is reluctant to let go of our hug. But, inevitably relents.
“Come back when you can.”
I smile and bow hand over fist to my family.
They’re not used to the custom but share in the salute.
And, like the wind, I pass from their lives as easily as I came back into it.
Some distance away from the village, I pull out my flying sword and take to it.
My energy may be far weaker than I’m used to. But, I have control. And, I’m aloft rapidly.
The night is bright with the full moon and, as I rise to challenge the clouds, I think of where I will go to cultivate.