I stand for a moment, observing the hardened desert woman.
Sorceress, I think to myself. She wants me to kill a sorceress.
I let out a sigh. I've heard mortals call immortals witches and sorcerers before. But, it always just seems ignorant.
It's not that such magics, beyond the means of common cultivators, are nonexistent.
The combat array system that I learned by observing the daeva is a type of magic. The many arcane and elemental spells cast by those daeva during the war attest to the reality of magic.
Any system that employs energy to cause an effect is a type of magic. And there are many ways to employ chi beyond absorption and refinement. My application of heat through my soul body is a magic all its own.
But, in this era, cultivators are not considered sorcerers or wizards. We are immortals.
"No," I say flatly.
I'm not going to pick a fight with another immortal when I'm trying to hide.
I have many advantages over a common lower immortal. But, there are no guarantees in battle. And, should this sorceress be an ascended immortal, no amount of tricks would be enough to preserve my life.
I don't feel that I'm a coward for not taking up the banner of another.
The hardened woman glares at me for a moment before turning and walking off in the direction of her tribe.
"Hah," I let out a breath. A part of me feels guilty for not stepping in to protect the mortals against another immortal.
My father's words that I should remember the people I came from stir in my mind.
Would he be disappointed in me?
With a shake of my head, I turn from the departing woman and mind my task.
My task of making spirit glass consumes me. And, I turn the loose blobs into refined circles in their placement on the glass floor.
One circle at the center with six copied circles surrounding and overlapping upon the first. Only, the central circle is empty of overlapping lines. I have the seed.
Where the original circle was the spirit into which I manifested as thought, now the seed of life has been planted. And from that seed will bloom a flower and then a garden.
Circles upon circles, as I had created at the Violet Sky headquarters. Only, this grid is all for myself.
Having it all to myself is not, however, more beneficial than sharing it with many nodes of immortal consciousness. There is power in unity and diversity that cannot be had in isolation.
A smile lingers on my face as I work with glass. I'll have to make up for the absence of companions with size and scope.
Days pass in fruitful labor. The mortals have not departed.
At this distance, I am not privy to their business. Nor do I desire to be involved.
A week had passed since the rugged woman had departed from me. And, once more, the mortals move to meet me.
I watch, unmoved as half a dozen come forward. They labor with their burdens.
Tribute, I think with discontent.
Not far from my altar, they look at me as I stand with my arms crossed.
The tan sand scatters with every step they take. The dunes surrounding us offer no shade. Still, these people are well accustomed to the heat of the sun and the poor footing.
I watch on for a moment before lacing my voice with chi.
"Take your offering back." My words carry over the distance between us.
The group halts its journey, its members questioning their actions.
Soon, they drop their burdens and turn to walk the way they came.
All that's left are bags of, what I imagine to be, junk. There's no fluctuation in the spirit world to make me think they offered me any real treasure. Just things that they would value.
This is the way of immortals, to take what they do not need from those who need it.
But I not only don't need it, I don't want it.
Bitterly, I turn from the departing forms and the sacks of wasted tribute.
My crafting consumes me and weeks pass into months. The walls of my altar have to be expanded outward. Which is no issue for me.
My control over heat transference has grown rapidly with continuing experience.
The pattern of the flower of life is several hundred feet in diameter. I'm almost spending more time placing the circles than I am in making the spirit glass. And even with my best efforts, certain areas require frequent adjustment. Every misaligned circle requires correcting many more.
But, I work from within. And expand out.
The black glass floor shines in the sun like a mirage, as if it were a small body of water.
Even with the walls, sand and dust plague my array. The particles come with the wind and, unless I build a ceiling, I won't be free of them.
The thought stirs in my head but is readily dismissed. The pillars that would be necessary to hold up the ceiling would intrude on the array. And, it is a small matter to spend a small number of minutes each night blowing the intruding sand out of the grid.
At night, I watch the heavens. I see my own story told through them.
The cast of the heavens extends beyond wanderer, knight, crone, and slave. A dozen is too few for the heavens to be satisfied.
There are also the gods.
The gods are not mere myths. Not just stories told between men and read through the stars.
They have walked the realms of creation since the Creator first made them. But, their stories have been quiet since the Calamity.
I look into a wisp of stars, akin to a flame. And see the Goddess of the First Flame, Amri.
It was through her fire that the world was forged. Hers and her mate's.
The first gods came in pairs. And, in the beginning, there was harmony. That is until the Creator grew jealous of His creations.
The stories I'd been taught in the Violet Sword sect always seemed somehow…. wrong.
The heavens speak to the capriciousness of the gods. The belligerence and despotism of the first creations. Of course, this trait is not something that shows in all the gods' constellations.
Amri is a tragic and noble figure who lights the path for those in darkness. By always illuminating the darkness, she is forever bound to it.
There is a yearning that seems to never be realized in the story of Amri.
As they came in pairs, Amri's mate also had a place in the heavens. But, his is a story much darker.
Lok is as Amri, fire-made flesh. Where Amri illuminates, Lok consumes. It is from Lok that the fel arose. The fire of corruption.
The Calamity has many stories to it and the realms that were created through it are diverse.
The fel is not of Gaia, as Lok does not rule this world. But throughout the 16 realms, he does preside over a world of demons. Monstrosities fueled by a fire that consumes the innocent.
I think of the Convergence that was spoken of in the council of the Patriarch of the Steady Sword sect. The world of creation will be made whole. Gaia will join the other realms and we will not be divided any longer.
Such a concept should be joyous. Who wouldn't want unity?
But, I've seen those who come from above. The daeva are no kin to mortal or immortal.
The very purpose of the demigods was never revealed to me in my time before. And now, I am alone and unprepared.
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How much time do I have?
A century? More?
To a mortal, such a time frame would seem immense. But, to me, it's too short.
As I get lost in thought, the night passes.
The tribesmen have stayed in the area far longer than I would have expected them to. And every week, they bring tribute.
It's left to rot.
I have no time to spare for their concerns.
For some time, I've been building my altar. An ambition in mind.
I've saved the herbs from before coming to the desert for my array to reach a critical threshold.
Many more circles will be formed, and tons more spirit glass. But, I've waited long enough.
My pill cauldron comes out and I array my resources before me. Dozens of common herbs in large numbers, a few handfuls of rare herbs in far shorter supply, flasks of water, and the various tools of my trade.
My plans are simple, concoct superior pills, take my place in the array, and cultivate.
My experience is sufficient and I do not worry about the quality of my pills. But the order in which I consume them will be important.
Lamentable as it is to do it once more, I will consume Dragon's Scream pills.
The pill will set back my ascendance. But, there are no rivals to it in terms of the raw power one can manifest in their soul well.
I will avoid the misery of common Dragon's Scream pills. That much at least provides some solace.
Heavenly Resonance pills will improve my absorption of the other pills' medicinal effects. Heavenly Fortifying pills will be important for my recovery from the Dragon's Scream.
Other pills that come to mind include the Spiritual Seed and Millennial Honing pills.
The Spiritual Seed, as the name suggests, plants a spiritual vine within the soul well. At first, the vine is illusory. It exists as a spiritual body within the depths of one's soul. But, as it grows, other possibilities arise.
Few immortals use this pill, because it can only be planted in a lower immortal, while the soul stone is still cracked. There is, however, another reason immortals avoid this pill. The vine can be rather…. greedy.
I shake such thoughts out of my head and think about the last pill I will incorporate into my rotation, the Millennial Honing pill. This pill has rather abstract purposes and, similar to the Spiritual Seed, only has significant effects on lower immortals. It should help me as I grow.
With my herbs selected, I close my eyes and meditate.
The scent of the herbs gathers in my nose and I extend my soul body out over my materials. With my protection, the variables of heat and humidity will be under my control.
I start by summoning an herb, yellowmane, to my hand. Like a giant cat with its mane, the yellow petals spread out from the pistil. I only need the petals right now, but I will not waste the rest of it.
The yellowmane petals find my mortar, the sturdy bowl I use to crush herbs.
Next, I take the roots of earthroot lotuses and peel the skin to reveal the off-white flesh. It's chopped and added to the mortar.
I harvest the sap of nettlerattle and set it aside.
My implements hover in anticipation of when I will use them. And the herbs are before me waiting for their turn.
One pill may take five ingredients, another fifteen, and yet another can consume dozens. But, not every part is used by any one of them. Very little goes to waste.
Minutes become hours as I mind humidity, grain size, heat, sequence, chi flow, and many more variables.
The crafting of cultivation pills is a process that few ever perform. And many actions can cause, what could have been, a superior pill to become only common.
The first few batches of pills turn out well. And as I move into the more difficult Dragon's Scream, memories of Fire Island stir.
A rumble goes off in the distance, clouds forming.
No, I tell myself. I'm not going to bring tribulation down on myself.
The clouds return to silence. Though, I feel their scrutiny.
I wonder, while I work, how much do the heavens know? How much do they remember from a time that never was?
My distraction almost causes me to make a fatal mistake.
An uneasy breath escapes me. My bounty of herbs may be somewhat plentiful. But, I don't have the luxury of thoughtless mistakes.
My mind returns to the task and I craft my first superior Dragon's Scream in this lifetime.
An ironic smile claims my face. This success will bring me great pain. But, not the needless agony of a common pill. This scream will be one of power.
I continue my task until I have the gathered pills.
My herbs are at less than half of what they were when I came here. But, I have things much more valuable than plants, I have cultivation pills.
The night is soon to be upon me, so I tend to the chore of clearing my stage. Tonight will be a show.
I smile wryly as I look off into the distance, the lunatic immortal has come full circle.
Everything is back in my cosmos ring, save the first pill I'll use. The Spiritual Seed.
I take my place as thought to spirit and, from that, my shen, my consciousness, extends out through the repeating circles of the flower that has become a garden of life.
Black glass glitters in the moonlight and a sort of hum takes the air. It resonates through the spirit world and I notice the vortices of the Desert of Desolation grow more active.
The Yin of night, of the moon, and the stars balance the frustration and struggle of the day.
I feel…. at peace.
The Spiritual Seed comes into my mouth and I swallow it whole.
The medicinal chi is already spreading through my spirit body as the physical construct lodges in my belly.
The process is subtle at first.
The seed first opens and spreads out within a very small space. It's like a parasite that has yet to acquire a taste for flesh.
I watch my soul as the intruding life form spreads its first tendril out, it's seeking something. The soul stone in my dantian.
The vine is not physical, but it needs a physical space to grow. Its tendrils are drawn to my energetic core, craving the nutrients of spirit and chi.
Soon, the roots latch onto my soul stone and find the cracks. The process is gentle, the vine is still young.
But, that youth is fleeting.
Incorporated into my soul stone, the vine begins to hunger. And, if I can't feed that hunger, it will consume my very life force.
Fortunately, as the vine spreads throughout my soul body, it finds a garden.
The spirit glass array is like a great wind instrument through which the chi of heaven and earth flows. Music takes the air as an appetite greater than my own sucks down the chi from the heavens.
I don't know if the tribe can hear the song. But, I find it quite beautiful. Even if only I can hear it.
The web has been spun. And, I realize, that I'm not the spider.
The vine grows with exponential force.
Few embrace the parasite. It can grow faster than the spirit body can feed it. But, it doesn't feed endlessly. The vine only wants too much.
Special conditions are necessary to prepare oneself for the symbiosis. And, I've taken the steps.
After a time, the song weakens. It still sings, more is being taken in. But, the vine is content. For now.
I breathe in and out. This time I notice that the pollution of my soul that I shed is less than before. The vine seems to like the taste.
It can have it all as far as I'm concerned.
The Spiritual Seed taken, I turn to my next pill.
The Heavenly Fortifying pill's effect is nothing so dramatic as the Spiritual Seed. It strengthens my soul, mending the minor wounds caused by the vine. And, bolsters my shen. My acuity and concentration rising.
It's peaceful for a time. But, I move on to the Heavenly Resonance pill.
When I consume this pill, I feel the spirit structure of my array throb with a pulse not unlike a heartbeat.
The beating of this pulse resonates with the harmony of drum beats.
Ba-bump.
Ba-bump.
Ba-bump.
My heartbeat synchs to this thumping sound.
Suddenly, I become very aware of something.
It's something just beyond the fabric of reality.
Whatever the thing beyond is, the sensation isn't a feeling of being watched. It's the feeling of being heard.
My heartbeat is like a beacon to the unknown. It's unnerving. But, I don't turn from my task.
Next. I sigh with resignation. Here we go again.
I take the Dragon's Scream.
The pill slides down my throat to be deposited in my belly.
It takes a moment. And then, once more, I feel tendrils.
But, these tendrils are not like the exploring roots of the Spiritual Seed. These are violent and cruel.
"Mmnhh!" I groan.
It's such a familiar sensation. And yet, it's completely new.
The tendrils spread out into my soul body before violently clawing back inwards, taking shreds of what it had captured with it.
"Hahaha!" I start laughing hysterically between groans.
I'd forgotten.
"Ah!" I gasp.
I'd forgotten what it was to not have callouses on one's soul.
"Mngh!"
My soul didn't come back. It was my consciousness, my shen.
"Auuhh!"
My soul doesn't know this pain. And, it hurts.
The tendrils have reached the limits of my spirit body and I feel my spirit body rip open.
"Aahhhaauuuhahah!"
My scream falls into desperate panting. But, there's no time to recover as the Dragon's Scream tendrils latch onto the array.
Fast, faster than through me, the tendrils of energy flow into and throughout the many circles of spirit that manifest the garden of life array.
Now, the pain changes. It's not the pain of my soul tearing. It's the pain of too much being forced into too small a space.
The fractures in my soul stone, that I had painstakingly sealed, are ripped open like fresh wounds. These few are joined by many more.
My soul stone becomes powder within my dantian.
The vine is not one to pass up a fresh meal. Shards of my soul that had been freed by the ravaging of the Dragon's Scream are tasty morsels for the parasite.
My screams continue, ever louder. Chi rages through my voice and, I know, my agony can be heard for many miles.
Whatever the mortals think is not my concern. I didn't ask them to come here.
I'm angry. And my scream is a dragon's scream.
The net I've cast has summoned an avalanche.
The chi of heaven and earth might crush me to dust, were I mortal, as it collapses from the heavens upon the small space of my array.
And, as I scream, I hear thunder break in the clouds I hadn't noticed were forming.
Were I sane, I might feel fearful. Tribulation cannot be faced by an ascended, and I am not ascended.
But now, the mind of a dragon fills my consciousness. I cannot be suppressed. Tribulation cannot stop me.
"Ahahahaha!" I laugh in the face of my doom.
Instead of lightning, tornadoes spin around me.
Chi-infused wind falls upon me, lashing out at my impudence.
I feel blood flow from my face. The wind is like a knife. And, my immortal body is not impervious.
Instead of fighting the pain of the Dragon's Scream, I become it. The pill's tendrils are my tendrils. The net, my web. The spider has found its prey.
The fabric of space ruptures and is filled time and again. Aether leaks into Gaia and I find this new mana tastes just as good as chi.
The storm tries, and fails, to stop my feast. But, only becomes the main course.
Hours pass in agony and exultation.
"Hah," I sigh after a long time coming down from my ride.
My soul stone has turned to splinters. But, at least the gluttonous vine seems happy for the nutrients.
I look around me and feel like crying. My array's been destroyed.
"Hahehehe."
It takes some effort to keep my sanity in this moment.
With little more thought, I pop another Heavenly Fortifying pill and spend the rest of the day meditating to recover from the damage of the night.
As night falls, I look at the Millennial Honing pill.
This pill won't be so dramatic as the Spiritual Seed or the Dragon's Scream. Nor is it a one-off.
The Millennial Honing pill is a pill related to karma.
Perhaps, it is more dangerous than the Dragon's Scream, as it forces karmic law.
Immortals are beings who deny the threads of fate. A mortal will only gather a lifetime's worth of good or bad karma. But when the timeline is extended, bad karma can grow exponentially.
Perhaps this is why, despite being immortal, most successful cultivators only live a handful of centuries. The price must be paid eventually.
To live without paying fate is impossible. And, I already have a century's worth of karma. Not all of which is good.
The Millennial Honing pill will not wipe my karmic slate clean. Rather, it will force me to confront my karma sooner rather than later.
It's dangerous to challenge fate. But, the oldest immortals recognize the importance of this pill.
It seems so innocuous in my hand. And yet, the dangers are tremendous.
In a moment, the pill passes through my mouth and into my stomach.
No changes seem to happen. No heat, no cooling, no tendrils…. Nothing.
It's not a dud. But, I kind of wish it were.
Standing, I look at the glass shards that lay scattered by the wind.
"Damn." I'll have to start over.