It was raining when I woke. Large, fat drops slipping off the icy eaves to plop into the frozen mud below. I sniffed, letting only the tip off my nose into the outside. The air smelt of loam and cold and …nasty wet. Hastily I pulled myself back in and trotted over to the fire to groom myself. Maud was pottering around the kitchen, clanking pots and humming to herself under her breath.

A few drops were even managing to fall down the chimney to sizzle in the fire pit. This sometimes happened when the wind blew sideways, which seemed to be a more common occurrence in the winter. I watched them spit and crack for a few minutes until I decided I was thirsty.

I trotted over to my water bowl.

‘Water is life,’ Moon had said.

I glared at it with deep suspicion, trying to remember the feeling of her love. My reflection peered back at me - magnificent, lean, gorgeous in every way, with particularly beautiful green eyes. I lowered my head and took a gracious sip. The water was stale and disgusting.

I yowled piteously until Maud rectified the situation, then lapped up the sweet, freshly poured liquid, savouring the feeling of it going down my throat. Moon was right. Water was already a part of me. I could feel it sloshing around in my stomach now that I was paying attention. I needed it, being dehydrated was horrible! But there was a big difference between a nice, domesticated bowl next to the hearth and wild River with her drowny fingers.

I glared up at the rain battering the windows.

I needed water, in small quantities certainly, but I was not convinced it needed me. I was not a duck or a water vole or a fish or a silly, silly goose. I was a cat. Perhaps I should pick a different element to concentrate on instead. Ignoring the fact that I had been through these thoughts only the night before I cast about for inspiration. Metal? I looked at Maud’s cauldron and the kettle lying next to it. It just sat there. Black and heavy and boring. No. Wood was a maybe? I loved climbing trees. And I was fairly sure the tree spirit who lived on the far away hill knew a thing or two about wood that he could teach me, but I would get very wet travelling to see him. And the days were so short.

Air I was keen to embrace, but the same applied to visiting the gryphon. Climbing her bluff was not something I wished to do without access to qi in the dark. I shuddered at the thought. That left earth, which was a solid maybe. There was certainly plenty of earth about but I had no idea how to befriend it. Which brought me right back to water. And River.

No malice, Moon had said. No malice.

I left the nice warm cottage, wending my way between raindrops and trying not to cringe away from the wetness. It was just water. Cold, nasty water. Yuck. I padded my way through the sopping garden and through the woods. A handful of little rain sprites were dancing next to the ferns, clapping their hands and cartwheeling over the damp ground. Some of them were skating on the icy patches, tiny, transparent hands clasped behind their back in mock seriousness. They looked like they were having a lot of fun.

I deliberately splashed through some puddles, mimicking their joy. But it did no good, it was gross. Gross and wet and uncomfortable and without my cultivation to warm me I would have been absolutely freezing cold as well. The feeble amounts of light qi that I was able to gather were only just enough to take the edge off. Still, I would not be deterred, I would trick myself into liking water no matter what.

Wet fur clung to my body as I plodged doggedly on. Once River came into view, I stopped at the top of the rise, trying to swallow down the familiar panic. I had become accustomed to leaping over her but leaping and actively engaging were very different things.

In this section of the woods, River coursed along a narrow bed, fast, so terribly fast, bumping over rapids, with plumes of spray rising where she hit the rocks. River seemed to enjoy it, throwing herself about and squealing with joy, but the rough and tumble of the motion looked terribly violent.

I trotted along, parallel to the river bed, seeking out a less turbulent patch.

After a few minutes I found a calmer spot. Here the water flowed slowly, smoothly, and there were only little ripples here and there as the wind tickled across the surface. There I sat for long minutes, watching as rain plopped circles on the flat surface.

It was… sort of calming to watch. I suppose. I took a tentative step forward, then another, my eyes fixed on the water. It was hard work to place one paw in front of the other. Unbidden, the memory of the terrible sack swam through my brain. The terrible sack and the horrible murder-man who I was going to kill some day soon.

I blinked, trying to cast the memory aside. The memory of my mouth and nose filling with liquid. The memory of the pitiful mews of my brothers and sisters, my own cries as we fought, fought for air, dying under the suffocating weight of the water as we were dragged down, down-

Nono no!

I was alive, with lives to spare. There was nothing to worry about! I had opened my fourth meridian - fear could not govern me! I was not afraid. Of anything!

I told another step forward, and then another. River saw me then, a cheery smile stretching lengthways across her translucent, bubbling face. She reared up into a great column of sloshing water and waved a long sloppy arm with great vigour.

“Helllllllo little cat,” she cried. “Have you come to go swimming?”

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I turned tail and ran.

I ran and ran, cursing myself, cursing River until I at last found sanctuary under a sodden bush. With my ears flat against my head I crouched and grumbled low in my throat.

It was still raining.

I should have gone back, and tried again but I didn’t. The light was already fading. Darkness would arrive quickly, as it always did with the clouds. The days were so short, and I felt so helpless, not wanting to venture out without the ability to cultivate. There were things in the woods, and I knew deep in my heart that one day they would find me.

So I sat on the wet, soggy earth until I could bear it no longer. Then I went home and cultivated myself into exhaustion next to the fire.

Mama chuckled as I grumbled through our shared dreams.

“My darling, what did you expect? You share a natural affinity with sunshine. This gave you a natural understanding of light affinities. You did not have to work that hard for the understanding to come. Just as fire is a foundation element, so is water, but its nature is so utterly different, of course it is not something that can be understood in an afternoon.”

I laid my head on my paws and felt a little ashamed of myself.

I let out a great, big sigh, and my siblings all piled on me purring, which was nice.

“Do not despair,” Mama hugged me close. “Give it some time. Perhaps you are thinking too big? Water is… immense, it is a foundational element. It encompasses a great deal. It has many variations, moods and emotions, from rage to serenity. It has many different forms. Find one that you can relate to, and work from there? Once you master the basics of water it will lead you naturally to many other kinds of qi - mist, rain, ice, snow, hail. But have heart. You cannot expect to accomplish the work of a lifetime before you are a year old.”

Mama paused in her lecture and sniffed at me, before looking deeply into my eyes.

“What?” I said, a little grumpily. Her eyes were a greenish- yellow, flecked with amber and very, very pretty.

“How many meridians have you opened?” she asked, suddenly very serious.

“Four, I opened the last one just yesterday.”

“Your fourth already? Does Montadie know?”

“No, I haven’t seen her since the last class and won’t again till the full moon. Why?”

“She probably didn’t expect you to open it so quickly,” Mama said, thoughtfully, as though she was talking to herself. “Not with the diminished light.” Then louder. “You know about tribulations?”

My tail swished. “A little yes, she told us about them.” Hush and Thimble nodded likewise. We had all been there for that talk and it had been a good lesson. “It’s a trial?”

“A trial, yes. A test. From the heavens. A tribulation will come when you break through to the next realm, which if I’m not mistaken will happen when you open your next meridian.”

“That’s good, isn’t it? I want to be Radiant. I am ready.”

“Yes, my precocious darling, it is a good thing, but a tribulation is not to be taken lightly. We defy the rules of heavens with our cultivation. We break the system, we make reality our plaything as we strive for immortality. Only the best should Ascend, as is only proper. Tribulations are the way the heavens weed out those who are unworthy.”

“You don’t think I am unworthy?” I asked, appalled that my mother would suggest such a thing.

“Of course not!” she laughed. “My best and brightest children! But I cannot tell you what you will face, only that it will be difficult. Dangerous. Each tribulation is unique to the cultivator, to their power-level, to their skillset. Just… you have pushed yourself far and achieved much in a very short time. I suspect your trial will likely be particularly hard.

“Have a care you do not push too hard. Make sure you do not open your fifth meridian in a vulnerable place or you might find yourself in difficulties. In fact I think you should wait till you are at the glade, if you can time it so?”

“I have only just opened the fourth,” I conceded, a little unwillingly. “I won’t rush. I will be careful.” I was always careful.

She bowed her head, apparently satisfied although I could sense she was still worried.

Well, I would soon show her there was nothing to worry about, but I would also not stop trying to make friends with the water. It would probably take some time anyway.

The rest of my dream visit passed pleasantly enough, in conversations and wrestling with my brothers and sisters.

When I woke the next day I set off immediately after breakfast.

The stars and the Moon had been aloof at first too. Sometimes they still were. I would be patient, both with the elements and with myself. And so, everyday, I crept through the woods, come rain or shine, and watched River from the top of the rise. She always waved to me, which I thought was nice. I didn’t force myself to go closer.

After a while I started saying hello myself, a development that River seemed to enjoy.

Gradually, as the days passed by, my feelings of panic receded. I was able to sit in a comfortable loaf and cultivate and observe. River was a playful spirit, that much was soon obvious. I liked to play too, so we had that in common. She wasn’t trying to lure me to my watery death, she was just ignorant in the ways of cats.

This was reasonable, given that I was ignorant in the ways of Rivers.

The next day, while I was visiting the village Wuot called me a sissy and told me paddling in the water would do me good. As if to prove her point she showed up on the riverbank and made a performance of swimming up and down the rushes while River clapped and whistled. She made it look so easy, bobbing about on top of the current as if it was the most natural thing in the world. I saw then that her silly shaped feet were actually perfectly shaped for this.

“See?” She yelled. “It’s lovely! Come on in, Jenkins!”

“Come in, Jenkins!” Whooped River. My name sounded strange in the Spirit’s mouth.

I sat a little closer.

The wind drew blurry lines and circles on her gleaming surface.

When she was still the flat parts of her reflected like a mirror, painting images of gloomy, grey skies. On the rare occasions when the sun came out from between the clouds these were pierced with silver and breathtakingly beautiful. A flash of light shattered the still surface turning it into a ripple of gold. The sun rays chased each other, skittering and tumbling across the water, dashing and sparkling. Their play was just like the way I tumbled with my siblings, sun cats on water.

I crept a little closer.

I was so close now, that I could reach out a paw and touch the water if I wanted too. I kind of wanted to.

“Hello,” said River, her voice low.

She had been watching me too. She didn’t rear up in a mighty column, but stayed quiet, her water running peacefully in the shape of a young woman’s face with long, flowing hair. Her head poked up over the bank, little wet fingers grasping the bank. Only her nose peeked over the side.

“Hi,” I said, and reached out a paw.