When I woke again the snow had stopped falling and the whole world was enveloped in peaceful white stillness. I peeked my nose out through the shuttered and blinked against the soft, grey light. The sun was a hazy ball somewhere above. The qi felt lazy and diffuse.

Sleep, murmured the snow. Be warm and still. You must be tired.

I was tired. And injured. Now that I was no longer full of adrenaline my injuries bothered me all the more, especially a deep cut under one of my legs. I didn't even remember how it happened. So I ate and drank (a great deal of the former) and followed the snow’s suggestion. Maud was keeping the fire banked high while she sat in her rocking chair, poking it occasionally with the fire iron, and humming as she knitted something red and fluffy. The ends dangled tantalisingly but I was too weary to play, so I let her rub salve into my hurt bits and then got comfortable in my wool basket. She must have cleaned the wounds out once already cause they smelt like herbs, but I had been too tired to notice.

“Jenkins, you really need to stop getting into scraps. These are quite nasty. Who have you been fighting with?”

I purred a bit to let her know everything was fine, and fell asleep to the sound of clicking needles.

The next time I woke I was much refreshed, if a little sore.

The wounds had dried out, and the one under my leg had started to scab over. I stretched every part of me, very very carefully, from the tips of my toes to the tip of my tail, paying particular attention to the kinks in my back. A few hours cultivating in front of the fire eased my what aches remained.

When Maud went out to feed the chickens I experimented with my fire breath. It was not easy. The first couple of goes produced more smoke than flame, and a sore throat, but at length I managed a respectable plume, several inches from my face. Not that mighty. Not yet. But enough to set fire to a small rug or burn the facial hair off a very ugly rat. It would grow along with the rest of me.

Aches eased and dragon-cat status achieved I went on patrol.

Stepping out onto the crisp, freshly fallen snow I was suddenly deathly afraid that the rats had somehow found me, that they were hiding nearby, just waiting for me to stick my nose into the garden. That any moment they would pour over the garden wall in a tidal wave of diseased filth to overwhelm me! I scented the air. Fresh, clean. All was as it should be. There was no need to worry.

Montadie would take care of everything. Brosnod might have been stronger than me but there was no way he was stronger than my enormous teacher.

Even so, I continued my inspection with extra care.

The only interesting things were the trails in the snow showing the passage of various creatures and squeakers and flyers. I sniffed at their tracks but they smelled fine. Crispy. Normal, like small fluffy things. Like prey. The only odd thing was a suspicious patch of freshly disturbed earth under where my Maud’s roses bloomed in summer.

That was strange - she never gardened in the snow. I went over to inspect it. Another cat might have missed the variation, freshly covered as it was, but I knew every lump and bump of my garden. I dug around a little. The soil was hard but had clearly been disturbed recently. What had happened here?

I dug and dug until I discovered a meaty human leg. I stared at it in confusion for a few seconds. Ahh. Ah yes! The horrible murder man who I killed at the beginning of my tribulation. I had forgotten about him but my Maud had tidied up. Good riddance! He could fertilise the summer roses. I flicked the soil back into place with my hind legs and set off for the glade.

I had slept through the day and now the twilight was descending. The forest was a gleaming fairy land of icicles and soft white, the rising moon casting shadows between the deeper mauve of the trees. I could feel the land dreaming beneath my paws, hear the soft breathing of sleeping creatures hibernating in their comfortable homes. Was it only a few days ago that I had hated the winter so? What an ignorant youth I had been.

Please with my increased wisdom, and despite the heaviness of the tidings I bore, I could not help but prance through the snow. Prancing was basically an obligatory activity in some areas, since the snow came up to my chest. The world was a delight, and I had not yet had time to appreciate the changes my Radiant state had made to my body.

Now was not the time for a proper examination, but I felt both light and strong at the same time! My breathing was easy, lending renewed life to my lungs. Frosty breath! New energy, new grace! So fast, so sure. I was also quite positive my qi channels had widened.

For a while I just let myself enjoy the sensations of just being alive. Flexing my limbs as I padded, I positioned my body in an approximation of how I remembered the storm dragon. The action of coiling menace needed some work, and I could not yet make my eyes flash with light, but I thought I looked ferocious. Good! Good! I startled a robin away from some holly with my antics. Alas, that I could not breathe fire away from the hearth. My frosty steam breath would have to do for now.

The robin twittered at me and I chattered back at it.

I arrived, a short while later in the glade with frost glittering in little crystals across my whiskers.

“Jenkins!”

My siblings arrived in a tumble, and we fell onto the ground nipping and biting gleefully.

“Ow,” I said, and they drew away, nuzzling at my injuries in concern.

“What happened?” demanded Thimble.

“There’s something different about you,” said one of the mean toadgirls. Moonsap, I thought. All three of them squinted down at me, their bulbous eyes bulging even more than usual.

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“Jenkins has broken through to the next realm,” Montadie’s voice rasped up from beneath the frozen earth. The looks of anger and surprise on the mean girl’s soggy green faces was a joy to behold. “He is now Radiant.” Ha.

I puffed out my Radiant chest.

Montadie rose, the enormous mound of her looming out of the darkness, warts and mushrooms on her back limned in dark grey. The snow was still falling, and the moon was barely visible, just a pale light halo in the darkness. My teacher looked solemn, but the the Small Folk on their shrooms in winter coats clapped and cheered. My fellow classmates howled, honked and chittered, and the glade became a turbulent party of celebration.

“You took a risk,” frowned Montadie when the noise had subsided. “Tribulations are not to be taken lightly.” She swept her gaze across the ranks of the Awaken warningly. “Do not emulate his example, he is lucky to have survived.” She eyed my battered form.

“I did not mean to,” I apologised. And it was true. “I mean, I meant to survive but I did not mean to open my meridian. A horrible two-legger arrived at my home and I had to cultivate to fight him-”

I told my tale.

My audience was pleasingly attentive. Friends, family and classmates gathered around me. The heaviness of the subject matter was made more palatable by the gratifying gasps and exclamations.

“Demonic rats!” exclaimed Montadie, when I got to that part. “Are you sure? So many?”

I explained their diseased appearance and the fact that Brosnod had cultivated with my qi.

“He called me a cauldron!” I complained. “Twice.”

“For-Molsnian?” hissed Lavellan. “They named For-Molsnian? You did not mishear?”

“I am sure.”

“You know the name?” asked Montadie. We all turned to look at Lavellan. She nodded, briefly, the small fluffy vater-vole clearly struggling to keep in some strong emotion. Likely rage. The intensity of it was radiating from every pore. Her eyes looked strange.

“I also know the name,” said Montadie, heavily. “These are heavy tidings indeed.”

“He stole your qi?” repeated Hush, as if she couldn't believe it. “The rat you fought stole your qi?”

“Stole it, and cultivated with it,” I said. “It was horrible.”

“That is the meaning of demonic cultivation,” said Montadie. “They are parasites, feeding on others. They take that which is not theirs. Like ticks, hookworms, cuckoos. But unlike ticks, hookworms and cuckoos, who are all still natural, demonic cultivators damage both the flesh as well as the spirit. Feed on you enough and they damage your soul. They are not picky. They will feed on the living or the dead. And if you are a cultivator they will consume your qi with relish.”

“How can they damage the soul of something already dead?” asked one of the mean toad girls. Rotfoot, this time. “How is that even possible?”

“Death qi exists. Parasitical qi also exists. It is not a school of cultivation I would even consider teaching. As for the dead - souls can be restless. Souls are an energy source. Parasitical sects often pop up near communities that have experienced hauntings. They are an omen of foul deeds to come.”

The glade was silent, even the Small Folk, quiet in their cups, eyes big.

“But continue your tale Jenkins,” said Montadie, gently. “We know you survived because you stand here before us, but we do not know how.”

“Assuming he is telling the truth,” muttered Rotfoot.

“Jenkins has no reason to lie,” said Montadie, “and if he has exaggerated the numbers of the parasitic rat sect I will only be grateful. But continue your story. How did you escape?”

The quiet was intense, and for the first time I felt a little self conscious.

Then Thimble cuddled into my side and with his warmth next to me I felt able to continue my story, speaking into the hushed glade. The silence lasted until I told how I breathed fire in the rat’s face. Then the clamour sent the night roosting birds squawking into the sky.

I had never felt so fancy, but made sure to wash my whiskers as if I did not care.

“How?” squeaked Lavellan. “I want to breathe fire! How, how, how?”

“After you become Radiant it is possible for qi to manifest outside your body,” explained Montadie.

“Do it again!” squealed Skoll.

“Yes! Show us!” shouted Wuot.

“Do it, do it!”

“I can’t,” I said, with deep regret. “There is no fire qi here to cultivate.”

“How convenient,” said Hangfoot.

“Can you not-” Lavellan waved a small paw in the air mystically, “can you not, you know, spin it out of light qi? They are the same qi family aren’t they?” She glared at me accusingly.

I, and all of the Awaken class looked at Montadie while the other Radiants laughed and scoffed.

“I’m afraid not,” said Montadie. “Not yet anyway. But now you are Radiant you can now start forming your core.”

“How will that help me breathe fire?”

“Once you are skilled enough you will be able to store qi of any element inside your dantian. Refined and condensed, and eventually you will be able to draw it forth as you will, like water from a well. Or fire from a furnace.”

My heart lifted. “I will be able to use sunshine qi in the darkness? Fire when there is no fire?”

Montadie nodded gently. “That’s right. But first you have to start creating your core, and this is not a step to be rushed. Fire cannot be kept in unreinforced flesh.”

We all started talking at once, no one more excited than me.

Montadie held up one spongy limb.

“Wait, my pupils. I know you are all eager to learn - we have much to discuss before the night is through. However, the news Jenkins has brought us is too grave for me not to act on it immediately.”

“If it's true,” said Rotfoot.

“Moððe. Ule,” said Montadie. The Radiant Moth and the Owl flew over. “Scout for me, my students. Fly fast and swift to -” Montadie looked at me inquiringly, and I hurried to give directions as best I could. I remembered the brook I had swum up, so the sect of demonic rats must be to the south of that.

“Thank you,” said Montadie, turning back to the winged Radiants. “Stay hidden, do not illuminate your wings. Suppress your qi. Wrap yourselves in shadows. Take care and find out what you can. Return swiftly. Whatever you do, take care.”

They nodded.

Then both were suddenly gone.

The merest hint of shadow only gave them away. Shadow qi, I realised, and filed away the information for future use, so as once I had properly befriended the dark I would be able to emulate their example.

“Why don’t you go?” asked Hangbelly. “Or is it because you don’t believe the cat.”

Hush hissed softly.

“A teaching moment,” said Montadie. “Never rush into a situation when you can prepare. I will deal with the Heavenly Parasites but it will not be an easy fight. Not if the rat king is there himself. Not if what I have heard of him is correct. I will have one chance to surprise him in his lair and I will not squander it by rushing in without thought.”

The toad girl looked a little embarrassed.

“Now,” said Montadie. “While we wait. Let us discuss the matter of core formation.”