„The captain will find root trash for us!” Ember announced as soon as everyone was sitting down around he nice table in their cramped warehouse. “Problem solved!”

No introduction, no explanation on why Mint and likely a few others needed people with multiple roots. No info on how the recruits would be chosen. Just that sentence.

“Root trash?” Mint asked in disbelief.

“What? Servants like that are root trash.”

Mint wasn’t the only one who was currently staring at their sect master in stunned disbelief. Forge and Burn especially seemed offended, likely since they were double roots, though as alchemists and artefact crafters their root combinations had always been appreciated.

It took a moment for Mint to realise that, as a pure fire cultivator, Ember was a warrior. Single root warriors were just stronger. But still…

“Ember!” Rain’s voice cut through the heavy, spreading silence. “First of all, what kind of explanation to our problem was that supposed to be? You just went and ordered the captain to go and do your job for you?” If glares could pierce through steel the ice beauty’s stare certainly would. The sect master’s boisterous attitude was melting quickly.

“And second, how can you, as the sect master who is supposed to preside over all members of the sect, discriminate against certain root types? Types that every sect needs as much as single roots? And openly in front of us as the council, at that?”

She was not screaming. Oh, no. She was speaking quietly and slowly – which somehow made it much worse.

Their sect master was shrinking into herself as she looked like a guilty child. Mint was a bit surprised at this change. She would have expected haughty defiance, just based on her earlier words. Though…maybe their sect master was not as confident as she was trying to look. Maybe…Mint took a second look at the silent Ember. Somehow, something about her choice of words seemed familiar.

“Are you trying to imitate eldest senior brother?” Wave asked. Mint and several of the others turned towards him as they realised why it felt so familiar. Claiming other’s hard work as his own, looking down on everybody else, that was exactly what the sect’s heir used to do. He had been openly admired, but Mint doubted anyone really liked him.

Ember opened her mouth, stopped, closed it again and looked at the group as if she was hoping for someone to help her out of this situation. “I…well…”

Citrine sighed in exasperation. “I think we need another sect master. As much as I love you, Ember, you are horrible at this. Why are we meeting in a grimy, dark warehouse anyway?”

“Uhm…Well…I didn’t really think about that. Who wants to be sect master? Because I don’t want to do this anymore.” Ember grumbled. “You’re all mean. You always want something from me and then you criticise my decisions.”

As soon as things got hard she just gave up, of course. Mint could only agree that Ember wasn’t exactly sect master material.

Nobody seemed interested in continuing the blame game immediately at least.

“So, what did you actually talk to the captain about?” Rain asked, before the silence turned into bickering.

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Ember pouted at her, but responded. “I couldn’t think of a solution so I asked the captain how we could get experienced people with multiple roots.” After a moment of silence, she apparently felt the need to add: “I didn’t call them root trash in front of the captain!”

The encouraging nods of agreement seemed to throw her off slightly. Asking a mortal was kind of strange, after all. Not having proper elders was even more unusual though, so anyone with some life experience and leadership skills was better than, well, a few teens that didn’t have any idea how a sect should work.

“And he said he would contact tiny, weak clans. The cultivators can be in the sect and the mortals can live with the mortal town, so they can’t do anything bad.”

Mint nodded. That did seem like a good solution. And with the captain choosing who to recruit they likely wouldn’t mess up and get a demonic cultivator or something. It was a pity the captain was a mortal. Though she kind of wondered whether he had ever been checked for spirit roots…her eyes widened as she noticed something crucial.

“Hey, different topic, but, how are we supposed to find out if someone has spirit roots now? We don’t have anyone in nascent soul!” Mint interrupted the murmurs of agreement.

“We can discuss that later, okay? I…we should all think about solutions ourselves until next time.” Rain decided.

“We have to decide who the sect master should be next time, too!”

Once again everyone was staring at Ember in shock. Apparently, nobody had really considered kicking her out just because she said something undeniably stupid.

“Don’t look at me like that. I don’t want to be sect master. Whoever wants to do it can be sect master, okay?”

Again, an awkward silence spread. Nobody had anything else to say. There were no suggestions on who could be a possible better choice or volunteers either.

Since they were apparently collecting topics and stopped the meeting Mint pulled a piece of paper out of her wide sleeves and noted both points down with a charcoal pen. After doing that she realised writing down decisions might also be a good idea to keep a record for herself. So she turned the piece of paper around, wrote ‘1st council meeting’ plus the recruitment topic down and then added that the captain would look for possible recruits.

When she looked up again the meeting was somehow dissolving, though Mint wasn’t quite sure why it felt wrong. Shouldn’t someone say that it was over? Or do something else? They had discussed what they had come for, but something about this abrupt ending felt wrong.

Still, since the others were leaving she left, as well.

Back at her by now far more familiar orchard terrace she found someone from the earth group had mixed the soil and stone dust, much to her relief. That meant she could continue with something she loved and could forget about complicated matters for a while and didn’t have to talk to anyone who might expect some sort of intelligent decision from her. Sure, she would have to inspect her group’s work later, but, she realised only now, at least she actually knew what she was doing when it came to plants. So this wasn’t quite as bad as being sect master would have been.

With a much more relaxed expression she went to get some moss from the cliff walls, watered her sandy soil and then spread the moss out all over the terraces.

While she worked she still couldn’t stop thinking, no matter how she tried to focus on her task at hand.

Who could be sect master?

Maybe Silver, since he used to be the heir to a clan? Mint knew about him because her grandmother had mentioned a possible engagement between him and her or one of her sisters before. Or Wave or Rain, since there were two people with water roots in Core Formation. Definitely not Mint herself though. She was – well, maybe not the weakest anymore, but still the youngest and she doubted anyone would suggest her.

Maybe they should choose the oldest person, even if that person was in Foundation establishment. She had no idea who the oldest could be, but making the oldest an option couldn’t be wrong. The older princess might be an option, too. Surely she would know more about how to get a sect to work?

Mint was channelling her qi into the moss to let it grow all over the terraces. On top of that, she thought, she would sow a mix of mortal plants again, but this time it would be brambles. Brambles, and then have someone burn everything. The point was simply to make many different things grow, after all, until she had good, rich soil. Diversity in many cycles, to simulate nature. After the brambles she might get some conifers growing, then turn the trees to mush and mix them into the soil.

As her thoughts drifted off Mint almost managed to forget the predicament they were in.