Year 5

The morning light shoved its way through the window as a sickly yellow brightness.

It showed through the grime-coated paper windows of the servant quarters that I had started sleeping in a year ago in preparation for the inevitable.

The cheerful laughs of the excited servant children did little to dispel the gloom that mirrored my own mood.

Today was the farce they called the Talent Measuring Ceremony, a spectacle for the elders designed to weed out the ‘unworthy’ and toss them onto the trash heap of society.

The unworthy like me.

The unworthy like the large number of other clan children who were excitedly moving towards the examination.

Exile.

The word was a rusty nail driven into my soul, a constant reminder of my previous life's worthlessness.

This time wouldn't be any different, but at least I wouldn't be completely helpless.

I drew a deep breath, feeling the thrum of Qi I'd hoarded within my muscles, accumulated over five years of preparation.

It was time to put the pilfered Havenrun technique to the test.

Following the cryptic instructions of the manual, I coaxed the Qi along the pathways etched within my being, guiding it into the reservoir of my dantian.

My muscles hummed, tingling with newfound strength as I broke through the barrier, the Qi flooding my meridians like a torrent breaking a dam.

Level One Body Tempering.

A pathetic achievement in the grand scheme of things, but in this dog-eat-dog world, every scrap of power mattered.

It was a shield, albeit a flimsy one, against the inevitable.

Pushing down the urge to scoff at the irony, I rose and prepared for the charade.

At least I wouldn't be thrown out like a mewling kitten with no milk this time.

The Talent Measuring Hall reeked of hypocrisy.

Grandiose carvings and portraits of smug, self-important ancestors adorned the walls, mocking us with their legacy of supposed greatness.

The air crackled with a false sense of hope, a pathetic delusion clinging to the other children as they lined up before the glowing crystal orb~the arbiter of their fates.

Plum, bless his naive heart, practically vibrated with excitement. "I can't wait! What if I'm a genius?" he chirped, oblivious to the disappointment etched on the faces of the elders, their eyes calculating like vultures eyes looking for pretty and finding none.

My lips twitched in a scowl.

He was a lamb to the slaughter.

Plum was too kind and didn’t deserve to have his dreams crushed like this.His hand touched the orb, and it pulsed with a weak green light.

Mid Green for Martial Arts and Cultivation.

Which to these clan bastards was a death sentence for him.

In this world of power-hungry sharks, hope meant nothing to bastards like them.

"Exile," the Head Elder croaked in a voice that sounded like sandpaper and a lack of care.

Plum's face blanched, his joy evaporating like morning mist.

He was dragged away, his pleas ignored, another victim of this rigged game.

My turn. The orb pulsed with a slightly brighter hue – but it was orange so it was even worse.

High Orange. Still garbage in their eyes.

"Exile," the Head Elder repeated, a bored monotone. No surprise there.

I joined Plum in the rickety carriage, the other rejects filling the seats around us, a chorus of sniffles and quiet sobs filling the air.

Being tossed out to rot in the slums was what I expected, but when I looked at Plum I just felt sad.

The journey was going to be a procession of despair, the stench of the lower rings assaulting our nostrils as we were unceremoniously dumped at the edge of the second ring from the last, a festering wound on the city's underbelly.

Plum's eyes were red-rimmed, his face streaked with tears and grime. "It's not fair," he choked out, his voice raw with despair.

I offered a hollow comfort, my hand heavy on his shoulder. "Life's a bitch, Plum," I muttered, my own voice thick with bitterness. "But we're still breathing. That's more than most can say in this shithole."

My statement was punctuated by a singular "High-purple talent! Welcome to the clan, young man-"

I tuned them out.

I sighed, but then a spark of defiance flickered within me.

This wasn't the end.

It was just another round in this twisted game of survival.

I noticed the carriage started to move but I continued to think.

This time, I'd claw my way out of the muck, even if it meant scraping by, one miserable day at a time.

I'd try for the middle class ring of the city this time. A pipe dream, perhaps, but I'd be damned if I didn't try.

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The carriage lurched to a halt, its rusted wheels groaning in protest as the guards shoved us out like unwanted refuse.

I landed with a thud as the big shit behind me in the shitty armor pushed me out before I even stood up.

I landed on the ground and twisted my body to land on my feet.

It's not like I was going to stay in a carriage going nowhere.

He was clearly feeling like being an ass made them better than everyone else.

The stench of rotting garbage and human waste assaulted my nostrils.

This was the fifth ring.

Really there’s nothing good about a ‘greater’ slum if it's still a slum.

The only two worse places in this city were the sixth ring, also known as the lesser slum, and the shanty town that circles the city.

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Although all three were festering pits of despair where hope goes to die.

Plum stumbled beside me, his thin frame swallowed by oversized robes, his once vibrant green eyes filled with despair.

The other twenty kids I didn't know, either sat down and cried or stormed off.

The latter had a higher likelihood of survival, but not by much.

I grabbed Plum and started moving towards somewhere secluded.

His brown hair, usually kept in a neat braid, was matted with dirt from working the gardens before this, and his chubby face was covered with tears.

He looked every bit the broken child, discarded and forgotten.

I fared no better.

My white hair, a stark contrast to my tanned skin, was plastered to my forehead with sweat, and my purple eyes, usually burning with defiance, were clouded with exhaustion.

My wiry build, honed from 3 and a half years of martial training, offered little protection against the harsh realities of slum life.

I'd have to rebuild my resistance for the next 5 years.

Hopefully I will survive longer this time.

"What do we do now?" Plum's voice was barely a whisper, his gaze lost in the maze of ramshackle buildings and refuse-strewn alleys.

"Survive," I muttered, my words a bit cynical but entirely realistic.

Then with a hint of determination, I said, no, demanded. "And then, we climb the rings."

Surprised curiosity sparked in Plum's eyes. "Climb? But how? We have nothing, no talent, no-" his voice trailed off, his gaze falling to his worn sandals, his despair at our situation returning.

"We have each other, like you said three years ago. right?" I stated, surprising even myself with the conviction in my voice. "And we have options."

I pulled out a worn, leather-bound book from beneath my shirt, its pages filled with intricate diagrams and archaic script. "A little parting gift from the Grandsmith library," I explained with a smirk. "A cultivation manual, albeit a basic one."

Plum's eyes widened, a glimmer of hope replacing the despair. "But- you stole it? For me?"

"Consider it an investment," I replied, my lips curving into a sardonic smile. "We'll need every advantage we can get if we want to escape this shithole."

With trembling hands, Plum took the book, his eyes scanning the pages with a newfound fervor. He dropped to his knees, bowing his head in the traditional gesture of respect and fealty. "I, Plum, once of the Grandsmith clan, now a nothing, swear my allegiance to you, Spiritward. Your will is my command, your path my own. I will follow you to the ends and four corners of the Red Dragon Plane. You are my sworn brother!"

I raised both of my eyebrows in surprise

But my surprised reaction to his sudden declaration didn't last more than a moment.

"Get up, you- don't draw attention!," I grumbled, I knew we couldn't grab attention like that even if plum didn't.

"Let's just focus on getting out of this slum first. Then we'll see about oaths and destinies."

But as I looked into Plum's eyes, now burning with determination, a flicker of something unfamiliar stirred within me.

Perhaps, in this discarded boy, I had found a good helper.

One who might actually be a real friend in time.

7 days later.

The stench of stale sweat and cheap liquor permeated the air as we weaved through the throngs of people in the fourth ring's marketplace.

The cacophony of hawkers, beggars, and drunken brawls provided the perfect cover for our new endeavor picking pockets.

I had been teaching Plum how to do it in the 5th ring, and somehow we had enough for a temporary pass in the fourth ring.

"Remember, Plum," I muttered, my voice barely audible above the din, "light fingers, quick movements, and eyes everywhere. Don't make it obvious that you're looking around for watchers. Don't bump into a cultivator above your level. Only bump the rich mortals who are definitely carrying something and make sure to grab something only if it's out of sight. Pouches only if it's a cultivator and make sure they don't see you do it. Don’t try to grab anything without the leverage to hide it quickly."

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Our next target, or rather Plum's when I wasn't paying enough attention to him, was a portly merchant with a gold necklace glinting beneath his greasy beard,

It seemed like easy prey to Plum but I knew better.

I went to open my mouth and tell him to follow me further into the fourth district, but Plum, emboldened by his success, approached him with a practiced nonchalance.

For some reason he hadn't seen everyone looking at him and were watching his hand reaching out with what he thought was practiced ease.

But as his fingers brushed the necklace's clasp, the merchant's hand shot up, grabbing Plum's wrist in a vice-like grip.

I slammed my hand upon my face in bafflement.

Why did he choose that one?!

The necklace was also the worst thing to grab on him too!

I bolted in their direction after shaking myself out of my stupor.

He didn't even look around to see that the guards had already noticed him and were just waiting for him to do it.

"Thief!" the merchant bellowed, his face contorted in rage.

Panic surged through me as the crowd turned, their eyes hungry for a spectacle.

We were surrounded by guards, thankfully, none of them were above the second level of body tempering.

"Run!" I yelled, shoving Plum towards a narrow alleyway and dislodging the fat fingers of the merchant from his hand.

We sprinted through the labyrinthine streets, the shouts of the pursuing mob of guards echoing behind us.

Plum, despite his fear, kept pace, his newfound agility from adding chi to his body with the manual proving invaluable.

None of the second level guards were fast enough to catch up to a person using a low green cultivation technique that specifically focused on speed.

Even if Plum hadn’t actually broken through, the wind based chi was making it easier for Plum to move.

My body control and swiftness talents would pick up the slack here too if I hadn't already moved on to the first level of body tempering.

We ducked into an alley, our chests heaving, the adrenaline coursing through our veins.

The shouts grew closer, their angry voices bouncing off the grimy walls.

"We're trapped," Plum whimpered, his eyes wide with terror as we noticed we hit a dead end.

Thinking fast, I hoisted him onto a rickety metal ladder and shoved it towards the roofing.

The rusty bars groaned under our weight and were getting ready to break.

"Climb!" I urged, pushing him upwards.

We scrambled onto the rooftop, the rickety tiles shifting precariously beneath our feet just in time for the first few rungs and last rung of the ladder fell off and snapped in the middle respectively.

The four level two body tempering guards surged into the alley below. "Where are those brats?!"

I'm glad they didn't look up.

Leaping across rooftops with only minor struggle, we navigated back to the gate to the greater slums, the market of the fourth ring was way too hot now.

Darkness descended as we exited the fourth district.

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We still had more money than we paid to traverse with and our starting capital combined. But I looked at Plum. I was ready to tell him what he did wrong with extra 'are you stupid or what' in my tone- when I really looked at him.

He was already admonishing himself.

I'd have to be a bit gentler.

Plum, his face pale and streaked with sweat, looked at me with a mix of gratitude and shame. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, his voice barely a whisper. "I messed up."

I offered a wry smile, my own heart still pounding from the chase. "We all make mistakes, Plum," I said, my voice admonishing but not too harshly. "The important thing is we're still alive, and we learned a valuable lesson. Never underestimate your mark, and always have an escape route. The most obvious loot is usually the worst, because everyone sees it. Especially if you can’t remove it without them noticing."

He nodded, a determined glint returning to his eyes. "We'll get better," he said, his voice firming with resolve. "And we'll get out of this place."

I looked out at the sprawling Medieval oriental style cityscape, the lights of the inner rings twinkling like distant stars, a constant reminder of the life we were denied. "We will," I affirmed, my own resolve hardening. "One way or another."

I opened my mouth and began to explain more reasons as to why his target was wrong.

Thirty minutes later, we caught a rat and cooked the rat to eat it.

We went to bed, knowing our next meal would be no better.