Boneroot’s first foray into socializing with his peers had ended poorly, to say the least. On the bright side, Kuroki was awake and ready for any future debacles.
“I would have beat him up! Why didn’t you beat him up? The next mean person is getting beat up! OK?!”
“I wanted to! Venh stopped me. He said it’ll be more fun this way.”
The expression on Boneroot’s face suggested he didn’t agree, but Kuroki couldn’t actually see that. He was still in the boy’s shadow. Venh had pointed out that, even in a city more comfortable with cultivators than most, a spirit beast walking the streets would cause undue stress.
Unfortunately, the result was Kuroki’s increased restlessness, which amplified his rambling, but not empty, threats of violence. Boneroot tried to remind the young cat several times that he wouldn’t be allowed to fight the other disciples for some time still, but that hardly deterred him. He had to admit the childish antics were helping to dissipate his anger.
Apparently, though, Kuroki was able to sense what was going on outside his little shadow realm because, like Boneroot, he fell silent at the sight now in front of them. Venh had lead them through the winding streets of Mountain’s Rest to the path up the mountain to the Brightmoon Sect.
The Wei Mountain’s stood just a few dozen feet ahead and they were menacing. Where the stone wasn’t a sheer wall, it was a collection of gnarled spires and precipitous drops. The rock itself was obsidian black of color, a foreboding difference from the Bamda Mountains to which he was accustomed.
At the mountain’s base, two statues, one of the sun and one of the moon, flanked the way forward. They were made of perfectly smooth stone, the exact type of which Boneroot couldn’t identify. He felt them emitting a faint pulse of Solar and Lunar ki respectively. Kuroki was the first to comment.
“Cool.”
“Very.”
Boneroot expected a comment from Venh, but the man had disappeared from his side at some point. It was hardly unusual for the enigmatic cultivator. Furthermore, the way forward was fairly obvious and comfortably nonurban. Boneroot would finally be back in his element, if only briefly.
He dashed between the statues and began the trek up the dark mountain. Boneroot quickly found the way up to be one only a cultivator could hope to traverse. The neatly paved road turned to a narrow, winding dirt path that connected one danger to the next. He found himself leaping over ten-foot gaps and bounding up precarious footholds.
As deadly as the way up to the Brightmoon Sect might have been for a mortal, it was hardly a threat to any cultivator able to properly use their qi. Even for Boneroot, who had dragged his weary body miles and miles earlier in the day, the trip was more fun exercise than harrowing journey.
About a third of the way through, he realized there was little point in keeping Kuroki cooped up in his shadow. The tsovar had an even easier time with the necessary acrobatics and he was relieved to be out and about once more. The two did wonder, though, how any guests were meant to get up. They eventually decided there had to be an alternate route.
After forty minutes of climbing, Boneroot and Kuroki finally crested the plateau where the Brightmoon Sect could be found, every bit as grand as the mountains on which it stood.
A surprisingly understated wooden sign arced above their arrival point, but, beyond that, wonder abounded. Tiered pagodas, clusters of compact houses, and expansive training fields dotted the misty landscape. Every color found itself represented in the intricate carvings of man and beast that adorned their sturdy walls and tiled roofs. Rope bridges stretched over long expanses of air, connecting one towering villa to the next. Massive structures were built into the side of the adjacent peak and more still could be seen higher up, ascending with the mountain into the clouds.
His admiration for the scenery was quickly replaced by the realization that other disciples were congregating nearby. Some were sparring on the training fields, while others passed between the ornate buildings. Before he had to make the decision of where to go, however, he was approached by another disciple.
The woman looked little older than he, but she carried herself with the utmost confidence. Walking with arms clasped behind her back, she had the perfect complexion of a cultivator, but her lips were pulled tight, her eyelids heavy. Beneath them was one blue eye, the other a pupiless, milky white.
“Welcome, disciple,” she said in a curt, authoritative tone. She made no attempt to address Kuroki. “I’m Sect Expert Yun. Please follow me to the Grand Hall. Orientation will begin within the hour.”
Boneroot had hardly recovered from the shock of the woman in front of him being an expert when he had to jog to catch up to her long strides. She guided him silently toward the largest building in the center of the plateau.
Though he was still thrown off by the probably-not-so-young woman’s position in the sect, that did give him a new avenue of conversation.
“I came here with one of the other Sect Experts, I think. Do you know Danh?”
Boneroot spoke with the hesitation of someone whose last conversation went exceptionally poorly. For her part, Yun was intrigued.
“Really?”
“That’s right. We actually came from Sentoru Forest.”
“Is that so?”
“Ah... yes.”
Perhaps she wasn’t that intrigued after all. The rigid expression on her face didn’t change, despite the clumsy, fake enthusiasm in her voice. Never one to give up, though, Boneroot tried the same question that had earned him some points with Kroshieshi.
“What realm of cultivation are you in? Black?”
Yun stared at the boy with unmitigated disdain.
“I may not be a master, yes, but mocking the Sect Experts is unwise, no matter who you know.” Her eyes narrowed.
“But, I didn’t mean,” Boneroot’s voice faltered.
“If you’re really so naive, perhaps I will need to talk to this Danh about fooling the disciples.”
Stolen story; please report.
“No, that’s—”
“We’ve arrived. Find a seat inside.” Her mood apparently soured, Yun turned back toward the plateau’s entrance.
As she walked off, Kuroki spoke from his shadow.
“Do you think everyone here is going to be mean? Maybe we should leave.”
Boneroot responded only with a sigh. He walked into the Grand Hall, which lived up to its name and more. The building was an amphitheater of some kind, with benches rippling out from a central stage, upon which familiar solar and lunar idols were carved into the floor.
Filling the sturdy, ebony benches was a collection of over eighty cultivators, dispersed throughout the theater at sporadic intervals. There were some groups of students congregating together, but most sat on their own. Though Kuroki wanted to race through from one side of the hall to the next, Boneroot had a different goal in mind. The time had come.
Friends.
He stood at the entrance to the Grand Hall, surveying all the disciples present, trying to figure out who would be most receptive to meeting a stranger. He decided, after his run in at the restaurant in Mountain’s Rest, that he should avoid approaching any nobles for now. That turned out to be easier than expected. He felt confident assuming the disciples wearing bright, heavy fabrics and conspicuous jewelry were of a wealthier background.
Kroshieshi had ranted more than a couple times about the garish habits of the Empire’s elite and Boneroot was beginning to feel grateful for some of that knowledge imparted. Even some of those who weren’t dressed up in such a way, or were simply wearing the sect robes, could still be reasonably eliminated. He saw certain individuals sitting perfectly perpendicular, looking down at nothing in particular. Nobles.
Among the spectacularly-dressed, however, a few stood out. One girl in the center of the first row of benches had a brilliant, three-pronged spear attached to her back. The weapon was studded with bright sapphires that matched those hanging from her braids. She was staring daggers into another girl several benches to her left.
More peculiar was a group of five disciples off to one side of the front of the amphitheater. Their clothing was just as flashy as their peers’, but the fabric used was significantly less. The group of young men and women bared midriffs, arms, and legs, where others had an excess of sleeves and folds. In terms of jewelry, however, they were second to none. Their darker skin and sheenless hair suggested to Boneroot he was looking at the disciples from Hamagari.
One girl was noticeable due to her shape alone. Most of the cultivators in the Grand Hall were already on the path toward their ideal form. This disciple, however, was rounder than the rest. Beneath her bright green robes, Boneroot could tell the girl had fat where others had muscle and the same quality was reflected in her plump cheeks. He almost wanted to go ask her about it before he remembered some of the warnings about propriety Kroshieshi had given him. Still, he wondered if she was just pursuing a different ideal than the rest.
The more he looked around, the more Boneroot questioned if wearing the sect robes was actually required. Why else would these disciples even bring other clothes? It wasn’t like he had anything else to wear, but he would feel more at home in something similar to what the Hamagari disciples had on.
After he thought he’d picked out enough of the nobles in the crowd, Boneroot settled on a target to befriend. He took a deep breath and walked toward the upper corner of the theater, where a girl was hunched over the bench in front of her, scowling at a mass of golden feathers adorned to a boy’s bicep several rows down.
Boneroot chose to talk to this girl not for her welcoming disposition, but the spirit beast at her side. It looked like one of the deer which frequented certain parts of the Sentoru Forest, but with the addition of a turquoise carapace over its beige hide and antlers which resembled carved jade. And, he noticed as he got closer, similarly-armored wings. Kuroki was excited to make his own new friend and had played a large part in the decision-making process.
The disciple turned toward Boneroot as he approached. Her upturned eyes matched the armor on her spirit beast and her short, black hair was streaked with bolts of white. She wore plain, ochre pants to match her simple tunic. Her flat nose and thin, pale lips contracted into a deeper frown with each step the boy took.
The deer creature assessed Kuroki cautiously. Boneroot noticed it tense up, likely when it realized the discrepancy in power, in that way which seemed to come naturally to spirit beasts. The boy realized it might be worth asking Kuroki to help him learn to assess others’ cultivation in the same way.
The girl, too, eyed the little tsovar warily. Her spirit beast must have alerted her to the potential threat. Hopefully, Kuroki’s opening words changed that impression.
“Hello! We’ve come to be friends!”
As the hellecat assaulted his potential companion with a slew of questions, introductions, and boasts, Boneroot spoke to the cautious disciple.
“Do you mind if we sit here?”
“Yes, but you don’t much look like you care.”
“Well,” Boneroot played his first card carefully. “I had a run in with some nobles in Mountain’s Rest and I’d really rather talk to someone else for a change.”
The foremost of his reasons for coming to talk to the girl bore fruit even more effectively than he’d hoped. Her menacing scowl did a quick reversal before she replied.
“Ha! Fine, take a seat. I’m Iris. This is Biku,” She nodded to the spirit beast warming up to Kuroki. “You?”
“Boneroot. This is Kuroki. I imagine he already mentioned that quite a few times in their conversation by now.”
She grinned wider, “No worries there. Biku’s been looking for someone other than me to talk to for once.”
The two chatted amicably about their mutual distaste for certain aristocratic peers. Iris was simultaneously shocked and impressed when Boneroot nervously overshared his own cultivation and acquaintance with one of the Sect Experts.
However, she also took the opportunity to do some bragging of her own.
“A Sect Expert, huh? That’s probably a boon, yeah. Of course, I was scouted out by Master Lei, myself.”
Iris looked forward with a cheeky smirk and took the moment to bask in the boy’s admiration, conveniently leaving out Master Lei’s decision to bring her to the sect primarily as reparation for the misdeeds of the disgraced Master Urve. Unlike Boneroot, she erred on the side of informational caution. Maybe they’d get to that eventually.
Iris’ boast was conveniently followed up by Master Lei, herself, taking the stage before them. She had the youthful radiance Boneroot was quickly coming to associate with beings over several hundred years old. Only a short pause was needed before she had the rapt attention of the entire amphitheater.
As the master began to speak, Boneroot noticed the two disciples he’d met in Mountain’s Rest had arrived at some point. Sitting toward the back of the hall, the girl caught his gaze, smirked, and elbowed her companion. He quickly refocused on center stage.
Master Lei didn’t even once glance toward Iris, but the boy hardly noticed. As she spoke, she made no attempt to come across as enthusiastic.
“Welcome. And all that. As the youngest of the Sect Masters, I have been given the truly exceptional honor of telling you all not to kill each other. Let’s try to get through this as quick as—”
Master Lei was hastily interrupted by a frantic man in an ostentatious recreation of the sect robes. Blue ornaments and silver sashes swung about furiously as he hustled onto the stage. Master Lei flashed a broad smile as she allowed herself to be shooed away.
Her replacement looked like a middle-aged man, his otherwise stately countenance bearing a small collection of wrinkles and sunken features. He cleared his throat ceremoniously before addressing the audience.
“I do apologize, disciples. Master she may be, Lei clings to a childish distaste for proper behavior. If you will clear the poor display from your mind, I, Master Bo, shall make up for it.
The man gave a sweeping bow to the applause of less than ten pairs of hands.
“Thank you. This, of course, is the Brightmoon Sect. If you have had the good fortune of finding yourself in this glorious Grand Hall, you have my congratulations. We, here, are the foremost experts in the Empire in molding the raw talents which enter our hallowed halls into — no, I suppose there aren’t many actual halls— alas, I mean to say...”
He paused for a moment, looking to the rafters in thought.
“Ah, yes. We, at the Brightmoon Sect, are the foremost experts, nay Masters! of shaping the most talented young cultivators in the Empire into powerful, upstanding, dutiful, loyal, old cultivators.”
The expression on Master Bo’s face suggested he wasn’t satisfied with his most recent attempt at introduction. He gave it two more tries before moving on.
“Within our hallowed halls, there are rules! Important rules! The foremost of these rules is you are not to intentionally kill, or permanently maim your peers. I’m sure you now think to yourself, ‘Who would even think to do such a despicable thing?’ I am loathe to inform you that filth such as this does find its way into our hallowed halls— ah, sorry, no— our regal grounds from time to time. Anyone found to violate this rule will be immediately removed from the sect, potentially facing even harsher consequences!”
He paused for dramatic effect.
“The other rules are not quite so important, but don’t even think of ignoring them! You will begin your journey in the Outer Sect. That is the plateau on which you now find yourself. You have the privilege of remaining in the Outer Sect for several years, depending on your progress and sect contributions, after which you will move on to your mandatory service in the Brightmoon Sect’s Martial Defense Force. That is, of course, assuming you do not make it into the Inner Sect.”
“Every half-year, there will be a tournament to decide who might have the exceptional honor of entering the Inner Sect. For that reason, you will be split into teams of five for your first year here. With your teammates, you will compete regularly for resources, such as additional spirit stones and elixirs, culminating in the biannual tournament. There are a number of other ways to make it into the Inner Sect, but, for new arrivals such as yourself, they are not yet important.”
“While in the Outer Sect, you will not have access to the grounds or resources of the Inner Sect, which is situated higher up the mountain. Attempts to circumvent this rule will be punished. However, you are by no means limited to the space of the Outer Sect. You are welcome, even encouraged, to also spend time in the city below, as well as the deeper areas of the mountain and the wilderness nearby. You will find out more of the opportunities therein with time.”
Master Bo’s eyebrow wiggling was not well-received.
“Let’s see... ah, right! While in the Outer Sect, you will be given four spirit stones per month to match your cultivation. That’s right! That should dissuade any layabouts from languishing in the Red realm. Naturally, not all of you will be able to break through to the Orange realm or higher, but to attend the Brightmoon Sect is to aspire to the White realm, itself!”
He thrust his fist into the air.
“Oh, I should clarify. Your spirit stone allotment will be linked to your achievement in ki cultivation. Breaking through in both qi alone does not suffice.” Master Bo allowed himself a private smirk. “Nevertheless, I have no doubt you will all put forth your greatest efforts to do so! If that efforts, or your talent, is found to be beneath our standards, you may be removed from the sect at the conclusion of the first year.”
“In these cases, you will not be required to serve any time with in the sect’s defense. You may, however, be conscripted into the Imperial Military instead. Yes, that is a good transition. Let’s talk about your required service in the ranks of the Martial Defense Force.”
It was then that Boneroot began to nod off.