The days are long and laborious. But I feel myself growing faster.

And, along with my increased speed, the lack of herbs aligns with the season's changing.

Days become a week, and, finally, my herbs have reached a sufficient quantity. And, so, I travel back to town. Less than the last time I made the journey.

My control grows steadily by the day. The cracks in my core steadily mending, now that I know the method.

"Rook! Glad to see you, lad."

Sebastian Grey is personable and welcoming.

"Hello, sir."

"What have you brought for me today?"

I empty my ring in piles of distinct herbs, along with a miscellaneous pile.

"Hell caps and fire thistle. These will make some excellent medicinal pills."

I nod my head as my partner finds the coin to pay me. It's notably less than my spring harvests earned me.

With the payment settled, Sebastian smiles a mischievous smile.

"Are you ready to start learning the craft?"

I return his smile as I say, "Yes."

"Well then, help me sort the randoms."

I sit in a chair and sort the vegetation for the next hour or so.

I'm given jars to fill and steadily clear the table.

Sebastian supervises my actions while minding the front of the store.

In a moment's respite, Sebastian returns.

"Next, I want you to skin and remove the barbs from the fire hisle. Just set the barbs and skin in a separate bin.

I find the bins and a knife before setting to my assigned task.

My thoughts drift into what I thought being an apothecary was like and what it is.

The hours pass as I work and I find myself on the last thistle.

Sebastian wishes the best to a customer before returning his attention to me.

"I'm truly grateful for your assistance."

I smile a tired smile.

"You look done to the day."

It's not that the labor was too tricky, it's just that the soul cuffs are draining my attention.

"Take a day off and get some rest."

Sebastian turns aside and picks up a book.

"Rook, before you go, take this. It was an integral part of my learning once upon a time."

The salt and pepper-haired man offers me 'Medicinal Herbs and Their Uses.'

I take the offered tome gratefully.

"Thank you, sir."

Sebastian waves me off, "Go on, enjoy your star gazing."

The hike out of town takes a lot out of me. But it isn't long before I find myself amid the tall grasses that have turned golden in the summer sun.

Night falls, and, once more, I sag into the earth under the weight of my soul cuffs.

It's been two weeks since I last went to the dojo.

The teacher wanted me to return when I was ready to continue. But, despite the significant advances I've achieved, I hardly feel prepared to fight like this. At least while wearing the cuffs.

Whatever the case, the time is right for me to see my teacher.

As the first rays of morning shine upon the world, I find my dojo.

She sits on her knees as I approach the building.

Knowing what's expected, I go over to the well and begin my ritual cleansing.

Having finished the ceremony, I entered the dojo properly.

My knees reach the floor as I sit across from my teacher.

"I'm surprised to see you so soon, immortal."

I can't tell for sure. But she has a pleased look on her face.

I hold my tongue.

After a moment's pause, the teacher stands.

"Today, your real training begins. You will continue until I tell you to stop. And, your soul cuffs will remain on."

I sigh inwardly. But I had figured it would be like this.

The teacher leads me to the back corner of the dojo.

"This is what you will do."

The woman crouches down, throwing her legs back and resting in a push-up position. Then, she jumps to a crouching position before jumping up with her arms over her head.

"Now, you."

I'm questioning the wisdom of my path.

I collapse into a crouch easily enough. But anything beyond that requires significant focus.

The act is more than just physically taxing. It requires my control to be focused.

Without the cuffs, I could do this routine for many hours. But, now I'm forced to mobilize my chi until a final burst where I jump up.

The teacher nods to me as I continue the exercise.

She returns to her seated position and closes her eyes.

The rhythmic sound of my jumps is only broken by my ragged breathing.

Minutes pass like hours as several other people arrive. Each person cleanses themselves before sitting before the teacher.

None of the students gives me a second glance as I labor.

The class reaches capacity, and the teacher's eyes open at last.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

I watch how the teacher conducts the class—a greeting before warmups.

It's my first time watching martial artists practice their art.

I feel like they can all hear my ragged breathing. Despite my vanity, none of them seems bothered.

I find my ability to observe the class grow foggy, and my vision swims with the sweat that rolls down my brow.

My control is put to the test as I bounce up and down.

I visualize the revitalizing chi as I breathe in, and out with my pollution.

I'm so caught up in my internal battle that I overlook when the teacher says, "Enough.

"I said, stop."

Confused, I look up to see myself alone with the teacher.

"Class is finished for today. Come back tomorrow."

I'm in a daze as I nod my head.

"And, take the time to cleanse yourself," the teacher nods to the well.

The cool water refreshes me, and I think about the experience.

It was challenging. But I've never felt so powerful before.

The cuffs seem lighter as I move about.

Despite the gains, my clothes are damp with sweat.

I only have a few sets of clothes to change into.

So, I find myself walking through the bazaar in search of clothes.

A couple of sets of common garb see me to a satisfied state.

With that handled, I turn my path to the wilderness.

Despite my exhaustion, I find the trip quicker than I'm accustomed to.

While the hours of light still linger, I take up a cross-legged position and meditate on my day.

Today's advances in the martial world have profound effects on my way in the world.

I breathe in the chi of heaven and earth, conscious of how the immaterial lives, dies, and lives again.

Everything is passing from one state to another.

Only immortals remain.

But, then, are cultivators truly immortal? A snapped neck will kill a cultivator just like a non-cultivator.

Can the soul body reach an indestructible state?

I assess my spiritual body. It is a reflection of my soul stone. Fissures and cracks allow the chi that I absorb to escape and rejoin the circle of spiritual life.

My breath goes in and out. In with the light and out with the dark.

Cultivation does not demand only one path. The dao of a cultivator is a complex thing.

As night passes, I review the stars. My dao is taught mostly by the stories I see in the sky.

Tonight, I spy the immortal.

The immortal is an enigmatic character in the stories of the stars.

His journey is mostly about the stories of those around him. He sits in quiet meditation while they come and go.

The immortal does business with the merchant and is sometimes generous.

The crone hates the immortal. The freedom of youth escapes her grasp while the immortal revels in it.

My dao takes shape in my mind.

I spend my night like the immortal, aloof to others.

Aloof. But, my days are becoming ever more active.

I start my mornings at the dojo. My training is strict. I only practice physical exertion.

Then, after cleansing myself and changing clothes, I turn my attention to my apprenticeship.

Sebastian teaches me how to dissect the herbs for their components. Alchemy is far more than crushing herbs with a mortar and pestle.

This routine leads me to have less time to harvest. But Sebastian tells me that his stock has never been so abundant.

My teacher at the dojo only speaks to me to tell me to begin and to stop.

I feel my movement grow progressively more fluid as the days pass.

I will still be a sweaty mess by the end of the training. And I'm so caught up in the training that I can't spare the energy to observe the class.

Days pass, and nights are peaceful.

I am advancing in my life. The stars are cultivating my dao.

Thoughts of my family are growing less frequent as I enjoy my station in life.

This day, I find myself in the bazaar, seeking something novel to spend my expanding wealth on.

"Greetings, traveler."

I feel myself drawn to the voice. There's a magic to the voice, a charm.

Snared by the voice, I turn to an older woman on the side of the street. She is a panhandler, and I mull over how much I'm willing to be generous. I fish for some copper pieces and offer the bounty to the woman.

As I do this, the crone grasps my hand. The coins tumble to the ground as she holds my hand palm up.

I could easily break the contact, but I allowed her to look into my palm.

"Traveler, your heart is strong. You seek the past. But, you are cursed with a future."

I mull over the fortune-telling of this beggar.

"You..."

The crone starts cackling hysterically.

Disconcerted, I pull my hand free.

The woman's laughter subsides as the older woman looks deep into my eyes.

"You cannot hide forever."

My lips form a line as I look into the woman's eyes. Despite her age, I can't help but feel that she has pretty eyes.

I turn from the woman and leave her to scavenge the dropped coins.

"Thank you, my lord," comes the crone's voice.

To what degree did the woman see through me?

The exchange disrupted my search for something to buy.

I find myself preferring the solitude of my hunt for herbs. The interaction goes over and over in my mind.

I can't hide forever...

Is that what I'm doing? Hiding from the Divided Fates sect?

It occurs to me that there's no reason for my abductors to recognize me. I was merely one among many that they wrote off as a failure.

My hunt for herbs calms my mind.

As I advance in my control, I find my speed growing with each passing day.

For the first time, I notice a mending to my soul stone. One of the smaller cracks has been mended.

This sealing mends my soul body, preventing the escape of chi.

My path to immortality grows stronger.

The herbs of spring have passed away, and the herbs of summer abound. Poison nettle is among the most common herbs I find. Despite the name, the herb has medicinal properties if properly dissected.

The poison can have uses all on its own.

My herbalism grows from the knowledge I glean from the book Sebastian gave me.

The days and nights pass steadily as I grow ever more comfortable with my lot in life.

Even the strenuous labor in the dojo grows more fun. I find myself lingering longer in the air as I jump and quicker to extend my legs.

The classes the teacher teaches become easier to observe, and I glean the fighting techniques on display.

They grapple and strike. It's a mixed martial art that this dojo teaches.

But, despite my advances in controlling my chi flow into my soul cuffs, the teacher has yet to advance me.

Other than training my body, I find Sebastian an excellent teacher.

The dissection of herbs takes a prominent position in my study.

The making of potions, tonics, and pills remains beyond me. But, my skills advance at a good pace.

Days become weeks as I learn from everything I do.

"Other than star gazing, what do you do for fun, Rook? A young man like you should be out there enjoying life to the fullest."

"I, um... I don't know. I'm mostly focused on my training."

Sebastian looks me over as if I were a stranger.

"Training's all well and good. But, you need to blow off some steam occasionally."

I think on his words. But I need help with how I might entertain myself.

"You're young yet, get out there and meet someone new. Try finding a girl you like.

I think of my childhood crush. My need to impress her has faded as I look to my future.

Do I need a woman in my life to be fulfilled?

Whatever the case, I take Sebastian's words to heart. I should find something new to entertain myself with.

It may be something innocuous that I enjoy. Something mundane.

I think about the dojo and how I feel ready to advance to the next stage.

As I come into the dojo, cleansed and ready to train, I see my teacher ever ready in her seated position.

"Teacher..."

The attractive woman opens her eyes.

She waits patiently for me to speak.

"I was hoping to advance to the next stage in my training."

The woman wastes no time motioning to the space before her.

"Sit."

A thrill passes through me as I kneel before the teacher.

The time passes slowly as I continue controlling the flow of chi into my soul cuffs.

Gradually, students flow in after their cleansing.

The group is silent, and the whole class is assembled before long.

The teacher and the rest of the students stand in a fluid motion.

Despite my advances, I'm still wobbly as I come to my feet.

The teacher bows hand over fist to the gathering, and we return the respectful bow.

"Today, we will review the basics."

After our warmup is finished, we begin.

She leads us through the motions, palm strikes, and sweeps of the leg.

The training session progresses, and it's obvious that I am the weakest at the fundamentals.

The sweat drips down my face as I practice martial arts for the first time.

My teacher corrects my posture as I labor under the weight of the soul cuffs.

As the class ends with a respectful bow, we each take a turn to cleanse ourselves.

"I'm glad to see you taking this so seriously."

I smile at the teacher. "Thank you."

She has a critical eye as she looks me over.

"Most immortals would pass up on learning from a low school like mine."

I feel somewhat uncomfortable in her eyes.

"What sect are you from?"

I find myself at a loss for words as the instructor gazes meaningfully into my eyes.

"No matter," she smiles. "You're a student of mine."

I smile in relief.

"Go," she says. "Return tomorrow.

I take my leave and find my way through my continuing training under Sebastian.

Time flies as I find my path back to the fields and woodland.

Herbs are becoming secondary to my training in the practical arts.

Evening passes into night, and I turn my learning to the stars. Tonight, I survey the student.

The student is a curious figure in the tapestry of creation.

She is open-minded in her approach to life. Despite her openness, the student is protected and cut off from the darkness. But this doesn't stop her from learning.

The knight will try to stop her from looking into the shadows that dance in the abyss.

She is a sympathetic character, pitying the slave and studying the ways of the crone.

The crone's relationship with the student is a story of redemption.

Her long years have made her wise and capable of teaching the younger student.

Their relationship is compassionate and understanding.

The immortal also carries many lessons for the student but sits aloof.

He teaches in passing. But, like the abomination, he is inwardly focused. Selfish and distant.

I identify where I am in the story of the heavens.

Am I the wanderer, the immortal, the student?

I'm all of them at varying stages.

I get lost in thought as I look up to the stars.

The night passes into day, and I return to the city to continue my training.

Days become weeks, and weeks become months.

The seasons change as I am caught up in the daily lessons.

A chill claims the earth at night and I channel my internal energies to keep warm.

It isn't a tremendous labor, and I stay warm despite the cold.

The soul cuffs are growing progressively easier to control.

My martial skills advance, and were I to remove the cuffs, I would be a match for other immortals at my stage of development.

One day, I find myself walking through the Callo city streets when I hear vicious cries of anger.

I edge closer to see a savage battle between cultivators.

Swords dance through the air as those less skilled in their martial arts fall prey to those more proficient.

Immortality is useless if you lose your head.

"Divided Fates! You bastards. Callo city belongs to Serpent's-"

The man's voice stops as an air burst catches him in the side of the head. The skin flays as the man dies.

This battle is unlike the one I spied on previously. These men are fighting to the last.

A dozen men circle a group that sinks into its defenses.

It becomes apparent that the Divided Fates sect is winning and will offer no quarter.

Just as it looks assured that the Divided Fates will win, something shines in the sky.

A man flies down from the heavens on a flying sword.

The man jumps down while the sword continues flying forward.

One man is impaled on the sword before the new cultivator flicks his wrist and calls his weapon back to his hand.

"You runts think you can kill my men and get away with it."

The new challenger brings a new dimension to the fight.

This man is far stronger than the other cultivators gathered.

The Serpant's Tail leader slashes down with his sword and divides a man in two from several meters away.

I watch as the sword ki extends from the sword. The spiritual form of the weapon extends outward to affect the physical world.

My breath catches as I see the gravitation of chi into this new man.

He seems to be sucking up all of the energy in the area, the lower cultivators starving for chi.

Now that I know what to look for, I'm similar to the other cultivators. A gravity well absorbing the energies of the heavens.

Recognizing the danger of being noticed, I cut myself off from the chi of heaven and earth.

I continue to leak energy. But leave significantly less of a footprint for me to be noticed by.

The battle resumes in haste as the split man collapses to the ground.

The fight of the Divided Fates sect grows increasingly hazardous.

The defending Serpents Tail adepts go on the offensive, catching the Fates in a pincer.

This desperate battle has only one outcome.

I find myself looking to the skies as if expecting reinforcements to arrive.

None show up, and the Divided Fates men are brutally executed.

The presence of the master makes all the difference.

As the last of the Fates dies, the victors let out a cheer for their success.

"Take their cores and our men," the master says before turning to the sky.

I fear that he'll notice me. But I'm relieved when the man is gone.

I watch the grizzly scene as the Serpent's Tail adepts cut open the bellies of the dead Divided Fates and harvest their soul stones.

They show their own dead more respect as they are collected.

This is what it means for cultivators to fight. Numbers can fall short of what one lone man can do.

I retreat from the scene, preferring my thoughts to the ghastly sight.

Now, I realize how precarious of a situation I'm in. All this time, I've run around like a sponge absorbing the chi of heaven and earth, oblivious to who might notice.

I resolve to cut myself off from the surrounding chi in the city—too many prying eyes. I can't help but worry that someone already recognizes me for what I am.

Maintaining the chi flowing into the soul cuffs becomes significantly more difficult when the surrounding chi does not constantly envigorate me.

Day passes into night, and I find a corner of the world where I can let loose and absorb the life-giving energy.

The heavens are cloudy this night, and I watch the bluish tint the clouds take on from the moonlight.

I think about my experience today—the nature of conflict between cultivators.

Why do such conflicts exist?

But then, I think about what happened when the master joined the battle. He absorbed the surrounding chi so much that the lower cultivators starved.

This may be why cultivators fight. The more they have, the more they need.

Is that my fate? To become consumed with consumption. A gravity well that only wants more.

The stars don't give me any greater insights into my fate.