Kestra was already leaning back, but she felt like she should pull back a little bit farther.

"You're concerned about how Graemire and I are cultivating together?" she asked, hoping for some more information.

Ralouf pursed his lips, and Yorgin began to eye the exit. "He's not cultivating with you, he's using you for his cultivation. I don't know if you've realized that he's taking more mana from you than he's giving back, but--."

"Because I asked him to," Kestra interjected.

Ralouf's jaw clicked shut, and it was his turn to look at Kestra with baffled concentration. "Why?"

"A few reasons. To start with, I grew too fast, and if I keep growing as quickly and without a direction as I've been doing, it's only going to hinder me in the long run. I need time, both in my level and at this stage of my mana well to consolidate what I've already gained, get used to it, so I can figure out how I want to grow."

Ralouf's concentrating look turned more sternly considering. "I can see that, but how does the imbalance help you?"

"Most importantly, I think it's helped me to heal," Kestra said.

Ralouf's head pulled back on his neck. His lips parted, but before he could say anything, Kestra continued.

"Remember the day that you and Graemire broke open seven of my mana foramina? The day we met? Well, I've been running my Organic Assay on myself routinely after that. I don't have experience with mana foramina; they aren't something I ever heard about on Moh. That said, at the end of that day, the foramina still unopened felt chunky like coagulating blood, and the veins they're connected to felt abused, fragile and raw. My Status said I had battered meridians, and they're still listed as swollen now. A week into being Sortalheim's City Lord and the foramina felt like quartz sheets while the veins were still fragile, but much less raw. Since then, the foramina have grown thinner and more pliant every day. My meridians themselves have only recently began to firm up, and a lot of that I attribute to Graemire making sure that the pressure in them doesn't get a chance to build up. I plan to confer with [Healer] Pierce about when to start letting my meridians stay full enough to put pressure on them, but until then, I don't want Graemire to let up if it does him no harm."

Su'ami said, "Hey! But you started running away from his 'cultivation' stuff recently!"

Kestra shrugged. "I didn't say I was totally consistent, and I do still want to get my lab time in -- without being stuck on brain dead stupid easy stuff."

Ralouf's gaze had hooded during her explanation of healing. "Did he tell it was helping?"

"No, I feel it, and I've had to tell him that. We're trying to balance things enough that he doesn't end up bound to me and my mana well, like the sprites are bound. He's more than a smidgen concerned about that, a problem of 'suckling at only one teat' in terms of drawing in mana. Now, something has only recently made you get all concerned. What is it? What information should I know so I can make knowledgeable decisions?" Kestra asked.

Yorgin slumped, his features flattening. "My fault, that. I watched Graemire become an Elemental, knew him when he was a Nature Sprite like little Natspri. I was a simple horn-nosed viper then, but still. I let slip that Graemire's sprite bond was with a Vines of Blissful Lust, and the old wyrm here's turned paranoid about what that influence means for him as a paired cultivator."

The two women glanced to each other, blinked in shared confusion, and turned questioning gazes back to the Divine Creatures.

Ralouf nodded. "Vines of Blissful Lust are mana predators. They have pods that spray dust into the air, and the dust acts as a carrier for a mana injection attack that causes befuddlement. It makes it easier for the vines to wrap their prey. The vines are coated in a topical poison that hinders movement and also carries arousal into the mana of their victim. They then stimulate orgasms, and during those, suck down their prey's mana. It's a lot easier to take mana when the mind is overwhelmed with physical sensation. Some of the more advanced ones will give their little mana generators the equivalent of a low dose stamina potion to make them last longer."

Kestra sucked her lips in between her teeth and let them roll back out while she took in that new bit of information about her lover. The others gave her silence in which to think, and after a few moments, she said, "That's something I need to talk with Graemire about, I guess. Are there other causes for concern?"

Yorgin shrugged, his words answering Kestra but his tone pointed at Ralouf. "I'm not concerned. You look healthy enough, and what's between you and your lover are your businesses, not mine."

That got a slitted side-eye from Ralouf, who said, "The imbalance is my main concern, and the fact that romances between Ascended and Awakened are fraught with misunderstandings and wrong assumptions is my secondary worry."

"Thank you for caring," Kestra said, meaning it and letting that show, both in the tone of her quiet voice and the expression on her face. "I don't think this is a romance for either Graemire or myself, but I'll talk with him, make sure of that. Even with friends of different races of Mankind, the way our senses work affects how we think of the world, and makes for some odd confusions. With Elementals being mana made physical, well, I guess that only compounds those kinds of confusions."

She knocked back the rest of her tea, mildly wishing it were strong beer or a distilled liquor. She set the cup down and reached for the teapot. While refilling her cup, she said, "About that mercury mine, now. Yorgin, can you teach me your Enduring Sphere spell? If so, what would be a fair trade for the lessons?"

Fingering the tips of his horns with the air of one thinking, Yorgin replied, "In time, once you've gained Body of Poison or maybe Body of Acid, and ranked up your Control spells to at least Expert grade, then I could teach you. Before that, no, you're better off using the Control spells for the true Elements independent of each other, and picking up spells to bolster your resistances to acids and poisons. It might even be worthwhile to pick those up before tempering your body to make it all the more likely you gain either of the Bodies. I would be very upset if you attempted to gain Body of Plagues."

Disgust turned Kestra's stomach at the thought and made her grimace. "Yeah, no!" Pointing to herself, she said, "Not going to be a plague zombie!"

That got agreeing nods around the table.

Yorgin asked, "What else do you know about the problems at this mine?"

With a shake of her head, Kestra said, "Not much." She pulled out the folder Manager Scarlet had given her and flipped it open. "Mercury mines are tunnel mines, the miners are nearly all bound slaves and dead within a year or two of labor there or tempered to Poison Body in that time. The ones that temper are pulled out of the mines and turned into living poison makers, kept under strict guard."

Ralouf and Yorgin nodded with looks of bored familiarity while Su'ami's eyes widened at what was news to her.

Kestra wrinkled her nose. "The miners of the Red Mountain mine broke through into a monster lair, and the monster heated up the tunnels enough that the exposed cinnabar flashed from red through black and turned yellow, with all the mercury that had been caught up in the ore made into vapor in the tunnels. The only miner that witnessed it and survived now has Body of Poison, but probably wouldn't have been healed if not for the mine's foreman needing his account. The survivor didn't see the monster, and no one sent in to scout has made it back out. The highest level scout so far was thirty-three, with Body of Poison."

"Mmm." Ralouf made a breath-heavy thinking growl. "I want the mercury to show Su'ami the method of making filled weapons. The liquid aspect of that metal with its great weight makes the strikes of weapons filled with mercury even more powerful, though it takes a warrior a bit of time to get used to the way it changes the balance of the weapon in motion. A lacquer of cinnabar in poison wells can also help to keep certain poisons fresh."

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"I'm making mana stones enough to pay the higher price," Kestra said. "If it weren't a Zonzhi Association mine, I probably wouldn't think twice about letting them deal with it on their own. But, they've so far played me fair, and good relations with business partners is worthwhile. Also, mercury has some uses for alchemists, too."

Yorgin and Ralouf conversed with their expressions, a brief exchange, before Yorgin nodded. Ralouf said, "Get us to the mine, and we will handle the infestation."

----------------------------------------

Back in the room at Tong's Hospitality, Kestra plopped into her reading chair and held out a hand to forestall Graemire from wrapping around her right away.

"A few concerns were raised to me, and I just want to go over the main one with you, to make sure we're both singing the same harmony," she explained.

Graemire reseated himself on the pillar pillow. He didn't understand why Kestra liked the full back chair she had made, as elevated seating wasn't that common among the people of the Myriad Realms, especially for healthy people. There were stools that elderly or ill retailers used when they needed to rest but still needed to see over the counters they worked at. She had supplied him the dais that acted as his pillar so that even as he sat on the cushions that made more sense to him, they remained at eye level.

This mention of concerns, though. Kestra could see Graemire pulling himself into a reserved mental attitude. Those alien eyes of pure blue, uninterrupted by pupil or sclera, focused on her. "You have my attention."

"I'm going to lay out a few thoughts, some context, first, then bring up the questions. You and I are not from the same species, nor from species that undergo similar kinds of apotheosis. Our senses are quite different, which impacts the way we understand and comprehend the world we share. The social structures of our species are, as far as I can tell, also very different.

"I was asked if I am 'in love' with you, which among the humans of Moh is a matter of romance, of the meeting of physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual attraction and desire. It's something that can easily extend to finding someone to bond with, to conceive children with and raise them, and to grow old with.

"I'm not. In love with you, that is. I do, however, love you. That is a matter of deep affection, respect, and comfort in your presence.

"I don't have firm plans for my future. Grow into my strength and explore the Realms, mostly. Retainers because there's work to do to secure the strength that is my retreat realm, and people who will take money for their labor. Follow in the wake of you who are more experienced with the Realms, at least until I feel confident enough in my understanding to pick a direction of my own.

"The questions I have are, first, how do you feel toward me? And second, what are your plans, at least as it concerns me?"

Graemire maintained his reserved facade throughout her framing of the questions. Now, he spoke with cautionary slowness. "I, too, am not 'in love' with you, as you have described it, not this desire to rear children and grow old with you. Physical desires are a thing of the Ascended form, and in that form I do greatly enjoy the orgasms we trade, though in all forms the mana of your orgasms is a pleasure I treasure.

"I do, too, have deep affection for you, respect for the way you have acquitted yourself, and I take comfort in your presence, in the exchange of our mana. Elementals do not tend to think in terms of 'love', not as I have learned it from the Ascended I've known before you. Yet, I will not stand by idly if I see a threat to you that you cannot or should not confront alone. Your continued existence is something I value greatly."

He paused, his mana under tight control. Still, the sense of judging how to step faded to something more contemplative when he continued.

"Future plans are something I should consider, I suppose. In the Divine Realms, I had my Wood which I tended in the hopes of gaining insights toward Enlightenments. By now, another will have claimed it. I am inclined to think that of no import. There are more Enlightenments to seek, but as an Emperor, it is now more important for my progression to begin to seek out the Enlightenments of other Elements, because the next apotheosis for me is to become a High Emperor, a golden dragon of the Elements.

"I know of two such. One is the matriarch of the Hulong clan, originally an Emperor of Metal. The other resides in the High Immortal Realms and permits the Red Dragon Sect to worship her. There are rumors that she was an Emperor of Fire before her apotheosis, but she seems to adore her mountain as much as any Emperor of Earth would.

"I must also decide if I wish to seek this apotheosis. To the best of my knowing, there are no yang High Emperors, only yin. My form would not be masculine if I were yin, thus the Enlightenments I would need to achieve will likely remake this aspect of me." His eyelids drooped to hood his eyes, and even without pupils, she could feel the shift in his gaze to her lap. His voice was a bit more gruff and rough as he added, "I like being yang to your yin."

Graemire's gaze moved back to meet her own, and his sensual look faded back to one of reserve. "Though, I think it may be needful to point out something you touched on: a child of an Elemental is a sprite, born of our mana and autonomous from inception. In some lights, the sprite we formed between us to oversee the Azure Wilds is our child. You contributed mana to that sprite's making, mana that helped bind the little one to the brumi tree at the heart of the Wild."

Kestra nodded. "Short answer: yes! Brumi Sprite is our descendant, if not our child.

"My long response, because this is one of those things that we maybe do and maybe don't approach differently: I know we chose to make the heart of your Azure Wilds the Five Seed Brumi tree because it will grow to match the density of mana without warping, and with brumis originally being of Moh and me originally being of Moh, that helped with binding the sprite we made to the brumi tree. That bit about being 'autonomous from inception'," Kestra changed her intonation to emphasize the quote, "that's true of all sapient children ... that I know of, if you switch 'inception' for 'birth'. It's the independence from birth that makes it hard to think of our Brumi Sprite as a child. But you've noticed how I'm right there poking you every time you check in with Nahrehego about how our sprite's doing? I'm trying to treat our sprite with the same respect of ... ARGH!

"This language needs singular non-specific sapient pronouns!" Kestra's frustration had her thumping the arm of her chair, cracking the wood.

Graemire let his head tip to the side as he showed his confusion clear on his face. "What does that even mean?"

She used Control Wood to fix the cracks she just put into her reading chair, frowning at her work while she explained. "The way this language works, all sentient and sapient beings get caught up in the assumption of possessing a sex! 'He' is a pronoun that specifies the seed planting sex, or a spirit strong with yang energies. 'She' speaks of the seed growing sex and strong yin energies. 'It' is for a single object, lacking in sapience, and with a discountable level of sentience. 'They' sweeps up everything into a generalized plural form. There is no singular version of 'they' in this language, and it. Is. So. Frustrating! Oh how much I miss that from the Druerjan language!"

"We use 'they' when it is important to not specify a ... sapient being's ... seed-related sex," Graemire pointed out.

Kestra shot a glare up at him. "And 'it' to speak of sprites! My descendant is not an 'it', not an object!"

Resuming his poised look of reserve, Graemire agreed, "No, they are not."

Kestra blew out a breath through her teeth.

Graemire asked, "You have spoken of what I thought to be a ... singular god of Moh as 'they'. Why is that different?"

"Elamshaq? Because they are many people in one body! Those who fail their tribulations are pulled apart, and the voices of the failed are added to their Choir of Lamentations. The parts of the failed that impressed Elamshaq are made into those voices, and the parts that didn't are broken down to raw mana and handed off to the Redeemer, to be mulched back into the world."

"Oh," Graemire said, with the air of someone regretting having asked.

Kestra finished smoothing and healing her seat, then sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. After another moment of focusing on her breath to calm herself, she said, "The guidebook warns in this small, easily skipped passage in the front that it's not uncommon for transmigrators to feel like ages of grieving have already passed for us, to think of the people and the places we left behind like fading memories."

She swallowed and dropped her hand, but her gaze had turned inward and distant. "I had two sisters on Moh. Hildai married my team mate, and Mira followed us when the Free Lancers Guild asked my team to move to Tellenhook Village. I got to say goodbye to them, but I haven't been able to cry for them, for the loss of them, since waking up in the White Swine Woods."

Another heaving sigh matched Kestra's suspiciously bright-eyed gaze sweeping back to Graemire. "But I can scream about how ..." Words flashed through Kestra's mind only to be discarded for being mere symptoms, words like "wrong", "stupid", and "lacking". She found the one that fit and finished." ... different this world is from what I knew."

Graemire slid off his cushions and picked Kestra up, holding her, sitting back down in her reading chair with Kestra in his lap. He didn't consciously shift around the wood of her seat to better conform to their new arrangement. He just did it, as he held her, answering the call of her mana to be connected to someone, to be part of a larger collective, to not be alone.

Kestra didn't have tears to cry out. She just wrapped her arms around her lover and held on until she slept.

Her lover, for his part, found Ascended bodies to be strange things as his mana pulled back the water that slipped from his eyes. They leaked in response to emotions.

Much as he comforted himself stroking the petals and leaves of his plants, he found comfort in stroking Kestra's hair and back as he held her close. His little potential, so bright with promise, so far from the soil in which she had grown, and the companions that had nurtured her growth. His transplant, to see firmly rooted and thriving within the more metaphorical, no, metaphysical expanse of his Wood.

And with that change in words, in thoughts, a small onrush of Enlightenment swept its glow through him.

He noted the thought that sparked the glow, and then set it aside to pursue later.