It took me many hours to get my coat properly clean. I felt quite sickened all the while, and my stomach ached from vomiting. The three mean toads muttered something at me, hopping and taunting but so frenzied was my washing, and so distressed was I over the state of my fur that I ignored them like the gnats they were. When at last I looked up, they were gone, and all the other students with them.

The sun was rising gold, warm and friendly through the forest branches. It shone down on me, proud of my achievements, bathing me in radiance. The trees were full of birds, all of them greeting the dawn, and their breakfasts. My stomach rumbled. I was hungry too.

The last tiny pair of Folk staggered from their mushrooms drunk and yawning, their twiggy arms draped around each other for support. There was no sign of Montadie, though I knew she was there, resting just below the surface. The stench of our cultivation was gone also, cleaned up through magical means I had no doubt.

I set off into the singing trees at a trot feeling…a little strange. Light-headed, light-footed, and hungry. Very, very hungry.

I hunted two fat birds without too much trouble, then a couple of squeakers along the way. They took the edge off. I remembered to ask them if they were Awake before I ate them, but none of them were. Not that I thought anyone Awake would let me catch them so easily.

When I eventually arrived home, Maud greeted me with gratifying cries of consternation. She scooped me up in her arms, embracing and examining me, cooing and prodding and talking, poking to make sure I was unharmed, which of course I was. I basked in the attention, then sank into sleep as she rocked me, fondling my beautifully clean ears.

At some point she must have decanted me into the wool basket by the window, because I woke up there. I was not too offended, since I had slept deeply and well, and it was now late afternoon. My belly roared as I stretched. Once again it was demanding to be fed. Why was I so hungry? The cultivation must have taken more energy than I expected.

Maud had left me some meat scraps on the kitchen table, which was very thoughtful of her. I ate them, then went out to check on my domain. Everything was as it should be, although if I must be honest it was a cursory check. Then I fell asleep under the daisies, breathing in the heady scent of the happy-mint.

In my dreams I excitedly regaled Mama and my siblings with the tale of my night in the glade, and of Master Montadie and the other students. It was most gratifying to see the expressions of wonder on my brother and sisters’ faces.

“A vole? A water squeaker? Surely not?” cried sister-white-socks disbelievingly. “A moth? Surely you are making this up?”

“I most certainly am not making it up!”

We glared at each other and started to wrestle. We went rolling over and over in a tumble of biting and slapping.

“It is true,” says Mama, over our wrestling bodies. “Any creature can Awaken. Even prey. Even a squeaker or a flyer.”

“What about a worm?” asked tabby-brother. “Or a crawler?”

“Or a… or a fish?” asked tabby-sister.

“Even them,” said Mama. “Cultivation is ultimately a rebellion against the natural order. Cats are naturally rebellious, making us naturally more inclined to question, and so to cultivate. We are born knowing we are superior. But others Awaken too, for different reasons. Anything alive can experience a spark of wanting, or wondering.”

We all digested this in silence. I gave sister-white-socks one last bite and then it was time to wake.

That night I danced and sang for the Moon, and meditated on the thatch. Just meditating. I was not quite ready to try cultivating again. But I knew I only had a month before I would return to that glade. I knew I must, even if I was concerned about the disgusting filth matting my fur.

The thought that all of that that was inside me was equally repugnant, and drove me to practise. I wanted it out, as soon as possible. I wanted it all out, I wanted to fly, I wanted claws sharp enough to slice water… So I chose my spots with care, making sure there were plentiful quantities of damp grass available to aid my cleansing, and I cultivated.

The second time was still disgusting, and the third, and the fourth and the fifth, but by then the impurities were not quite so thick nor as plentiful. It was still a trial, however, and I still awoke hungry without any other obvious improvements. But Mama said they would come with time so I kept at it. I became an expert at cleaning myself up, and I learned not to eat beforehand, since I would be expelling the contents of my guts whether I liked it or not.

I alternated cultivating by moonlight and sunlight. I did not want to cultivate by firelight because I had an inkling it would distress my Maud if my body started seeping gunk in front of her. Or on to her for that matter. She was very prissy about dirt on her clothing and I disliked it when she became high pitched. Explaining to her that sweating out the impurities was not only necessary but beneficial, was beyond our current means of communication. So firelight would have to wait. That was fine, there was no fire in the glade. Moonlight cultivation was still challenging, but slowly, slowly, it became easier as I was able to concentrate more and more. Unsurprisingly, I made the most headway lying in the sun surrounded by the heady scent of the happy-mint.

The days of the lunar cycle slipped away, in a haze of mint and summer scents, and bathing, and soon it was time to return to my lessons in the glade. Mama suggested I take a sprig of happy-mint to Montadie as a present, and so I did.

I trotted through the woods with a large piece clenched between my teeth. The scent was glorious, whooshing up my nostrils, making my eyes feel like they might fall out of my head with the intensity of it all. I tried hard, and failed utterly at not getting high on the journey. The forest swayed and danced around me, and I pranced with it. Once or twice I walked into a tree. I apologised politely. So happy and content was I that I jumped River’s width almost lazily, not even minding when I dipped one whole leg into her waters up to my thigh.

Giggling madly as I sprinted into the bushes beyond and I could hear her laughing behind me as she splashed. I decided, just maybe, River wasn’t so bad. Or was it the mint affecting my judgement?

An unmeasurable amount of time later, I bounced into the cultivation glade and spat the present out at Montadie’s feet.

“A gift?” rasped the enormous spirit-beast, her bulbous glass eyeballs rolling and sparking little pink stars. Did her eyes always have little pink stars? I couldn’t remember. She took in a big sniff and glowing flying birds swooped out of her nostrils cawing and cooing. “My thanks, little shadow.”

She consumed the happy mint in one quick gulp.

Her tongue was so quick I almost missed it. I blinked. It had not occurred to me to eat the happy mint and now I really, really wanted to eat it.

“Watch out for other plants that are qi infused,” says Montadie to the glade at large, after swallowing. “This particular one brought by our clever friend here-” I beamed, and the three mean toad girls glared at me. Their googly eyed ire washed over me like a nanny-goat’s fart on a windy day. “-was nepeta. As you can see it has a particularly strong effect on felines.”

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

I grinned some more and tried not to sway.

The little pink stars were flying around my head on dazzling little butterfly wings and it was hard not to watch them. My rump was also clearly planted on the ground but the ground was definitely moving by itself. The qi in the glade was so thick I could taste it. I took a sneaky gulp.

“The scent helps relaxation but consuming it aids the cleansing of your arteries, veins, bones, and marrow. Qi infused plants like this acts as a lodestone for impurities, enabling them to be ejected in greater quantities. Look out for them - there are others. Some of them even grow in these woods. They are rare but you can find them by the great concentration of qi in their roots, or foliage. Of course you need to be cultivating to see them.” The giant toad grinned. “If you are unsure of their properties, or their aspects, bring them to me before ingesting them.”

There was a low hum of conversation amongst the new students. The Awoken and Radiant have clearly heard this lecture before. I wondered if they knew where all the qi infused plants were. I was willing to bet quite strongly that Maud knew many of them. She was quite a handy giant to keep around and not just because she was really good at tickling under my chin. I made up my mind to sample all her magical herbs.

But Montadie was not finished. She looks around at us seriously:

“A word of warning to you all - a second warning for your second lesson, Jenkins. As you progress in your cultivation you are infusing your bodies with more and more qi. Yes? This is the goal. Do not be naive. By infusing yourself with qi, you risk becoming prey to others who likewise wish to aid their own cultivation by consuming qi enriched food.” The enormous toad leers at us, her mouth, already impressively wide, tilting up into a maw of impressive proportions. “Already, your flesh is more purified and tender than that of the unawoken.”

I could not help it, I glanced at Lavellan Vollj. The water vole glared at me through her brown squeaker eyes. I smiled. But then I became aware that Skol was looking at me with the same expression. How dare! The fur on the ridge of my back rose, and a low growl rumbled up my throat as I, in turn, glared at the wolf-cub.

Montadie laughed at us.

“Know that any of you who eats another student of this sect will be banished from the glade forever after. But there are others who I cannot discipline. Those are the ones you need to watch out for.”

“Others?” asked Wuot.

“Others,” said Montadie, and her lips pressed together, as she refused to elaborate further on the matter. “But enough of this. Let’s see how you have fared in the time you were given.”

We shuffled into position.

I was happy to cultivate and confident in my ability, knowing I had practised well. Some of the other’s had not practised as much, and I enjoyed listening to them being scolded as I sank away into the trance of my breathing.

The next few hours passed pleasantly enough, as I chased qi around the now familiar channels of my body. The warm mint induced haze of happiness was wearing off, which was probably for the best because Montadie said she would be starting our physical training tonight. I would need all my faculties and my sense of balance.

The moon-toad was unhappy with Skol and Wuot’s cultivation, and set them to continue their meditations while she spoke to the rest of us.

“I can guide you only a little when it comes to developing a fighting style,” said Montadie. “I suggest you seek other martial masters with physicality closer to your own. Although I can teach you some basics.”

“Why is that, master?” Asked Nadders, his voice oily in my head.

“My clan's style would not suit your bodies,” she said simply. “The Way of the Rotting Log is made for bodies with sticky tongues - Nadders, you have a fine tongue but Jenkin’s and Lavellan’s are short and stumpy. None of yours unroll properly. Nadders’ skin is covered with scales, while most of you have hair, instead of sensible mucus.” She flexed one enormous spongey leg, showing off the mottled, bumpy, oozing skin. “None of you can absorb water through your belly and you have zero poison glands. Well, Jenkins and Lavellan have no poison glands,” she amended, smiling at Nadders. “But do not fret. I can get you all started, and perhaps point you in the direction of suitable masters. First you must learn as much as you can from this Montadie. I will not send you into the wild unprepared.”

“I already have a training schedule,” I said proudly.

“Oh?” said Montadie. “Show me how you ‘train’.”

Eager to show off I scampered around the glade, leaping and twirling, and running. I hugged my way halfway up a particularly tall beech, before making a sharp turn and sprinting down the trunk face first, so fast my body's weight had no time to catch up.

After I felt I had shown off my skills satisfactorily, I came to a stop, panting, in front of Montadie. I can hear the mean-toads snickering in the background from whatever it was the Radiants were doing in their corner of the glade.

“Too wild,” said Montadie, frowning down at me. “While I can see you are enjoying yourself immensely, this physical activity looks more like the playtime of a child than the training programme of a novice cultivator.”

The toads could not contain themselves, their laughter spilling out across the trees.

Lavellan snickered something about me being a kitten. As if that could ever be an insult.

“Jenkins needs discipline,” Montadie swept on, disapprovingly. Her eyes roamed the glade disapprovingly, and the snickering stopped. “You all need discipline. Jenkins, you need to train with deliberation instead of running around wherever you please. For now, focus on one activity at a time. Run as fast as you can, see how far you can get before an hour passes. Repeat the exercise daily. Every day, strive for further. This way you are focused, and your progress is measurable. Do you understand?”

I nodded. I felt in no way chastised. None of the others had even attempted their own training regiments, except Lavellan. The tiny water-vole’s fight style was heavy based around punching and biting. She was vicious, but had almost no reach. Most of her sparring partners could simply step on her if they were fast enough.

I had a feeling that Lavellan might actually be the most aggressive of all of us, except, possibly for the goose. It was hard to say, till we actually fought. Training against them would be very invigorating, even if the idea of trading pointers with a wolf was a little alarming. But then, the rest probably felt the same way about fighting me.

We lined up and Montadie had us show our fighting stances one by one. Of course, all of them were different, so it took a while for her to go down the line. When she got to me she subtly adjusted my feet, and my shoulders.

“There,” she said. “Now hold it.”

I never knew that just standing could be so difficult.

Then we practised basic strikes.

“Those of you with teeth,” said Montadie. “Never bite something unless you are sure you want a taste. Be careful where you put your mouths.” Wisdom indeed.

A short while later we were all shaking with exertion. My limbs ached in a way that I never knew was possible. My shoulders ached. My back ached.

“You are all thinking too much,” snapped Montadie.

“How are we supposed to stop thinking?” growled Lavellan.

“Do you think when you breathe?”

“No,” said all of us, except Skol who said “Yes.” I looked at him.

“Sometimes,” he amended quickly.

“Do you think when you run?”

We all paused, considering.

“Do you understand? You have all run so much, or swum so much, or flown so much that the actions have become second nature. The movements are burned into your muscle memories.”

“But-”

“Of course you should use your brains during a fight, to analyse your opponents strength and weaknesses, to strategize, but to do that you should not be thinking about each and every movement you perform. That should be done by instinct. To get those instincts? There is no simple solution - repeat the movements, over and over and over, until your body understands them as well as breathing, until the movement is part of you. This is why practice is important. The rhythm of fighting is an instinct, you need to be able to trust your bodies but you can only do so with adequate training.

The giant toad surveyed us all.

“Mental stillness is what separates a novice from a veteran. Now let’s see what you can do. One more time.”