The Captain smiled to himself as he adjusted the timetable and duties at the newly grown harbour warehouse. Though currently it was the sleeping quarters for most of the settlers.

Little Holly and Nerine had done amazing work there - though he never would have expected to receive buildings grown from trees over just a few days to his specifications when he signed up for the emigration.

Once the adjusted timetable satisfied him he turned around, only to discover a group of curious children watching him. His youngest son was among them, as well as other children from settler families, the cultivator children they were temporarily taking care of and even Holly. The sight of a high and mighty Foundation Building Master that was also just a normal 11 year old girl munching on an apple slice like all the other kids her age was still unsettling.

Cultivators were supposed to be centuries old, aware of their power and highly experienced in everything they did.

“Captain!” And just then an all too familiar voice made him close his eyes in exasperation. “Captain! I have a question!”

The sect master was running over the waves towards the pleasant island the council had chosen as their new home. Close, but, they thought, not too close to the sect.

Sect masters were supposed to be dignified, powerful master cultivators. Not children who ran to him and his wife whenever they didn’t know what to do. He almost wished he hadn’t told the kids – no, the noble cultivators, he couldn’t just call them kids in his head all the time – to get their sh*t together and get an organisation going.

He turned around and had to watch the noble cultivator Holly lift his son over her head with a cheeky grin, much to the amusement of the other kids.

The sect Master’s “Captain!” seemed much closer now.

With a sigh he turned around to see what kind of mess the kids got themselves into this time.

The sect master’s hair was in braids, she had dirty knees and her expectant eyes were twinkling at him as she stood before him, her absolute confidence that he would be able to solve whatever problem she was dealing with on full display. Like a chick that imprinted on the first thing it saw.

“Yes, how can I help you today, miss?” He asked with raised eyebrows.

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“We need cultivators with multiple roots at mid foundation building. But it takes decades to train someone like that!” Ember explained with a frustrated pout. “So what now?”

Now this, the captain thought, was exactly what he would have expected of a student stumped on their first independent project. It did not look like she had thought about a solution much, just mulling over the problem and why it was impossible.

“Did you ask your council what they think?”

“Errr…this is sort of what I’m supposed to decide as the sect master…and Mint and Cobalt asked me…and I told them I’d find a way…” The dignified sect master blushed in embarrassment as she casually crushed a stone between her fingers into fine powder.

“I see.” The captain once again realised that he was dealing with children. Obedient and generally nice children, fortunately. He had seen a lot of arrogant young lords from families like the one she had to be from, but it had never occurred to him that the less important descendants of those houses had to behave and keep their head down to avoid those masters as much as any mortal. No young master would have been willing to admit their own failure like this.

The answer to her question was rather obvious, but he doubted the kids had the necessary skills to find a suitable lesser cultivator family to recruit. No, it would take life experience and insight into people’s character. He couldn’t risk them taking in any spies, evil cultivators or people who would influence these all too innocent kids and use them for their own goals. Mortals like him would suffer the most if that happened. Maybe her coming to him first really was fortunate.

“I see.” He repeated. “When will you be able to influence your formation’s spirit to allow someone not of your bloodline to enter the island?”

“Maybe next year.” The sect master bit her lips. “Probably.”

“Experienced cultivators with lesser roots and families are often living their life similar to mortal clans. I’m sure we could find a few morally upright masters who would be happy to move to a safer area with their families.” The captain explained patiently. “For a family like that to move we would need a clear time frame as they would have to bring the elderly and children closer to the sect, as well.”

And having such families would likely help bind the sect to their settlement for many years to come. Their aid in founding a decent town, local connections as much as their personal power, would be invaluable. Maybe he was cheating the young sect master by only presenting one possible solution, but it truly would be the best in his opinion to bind anyone the sect could recruit firmly to them through more than a bond of obedience towards a stronger power.

Innocent girl that she was, Ember just seemed happy to have a solution and was almost bouncing in happiness. “You can find them for us? That’s great! Thank you – I’ll definitely send Mint to help grow some more houses for you and I’ll tell Forge to send someone to help make tools for you!”

And then, she was gone, running back over the surface of the sea as if it as the most ordinary thing in the world. He was starting to get used to that, at least.

Before he could turn away he spotted another figure getting closer to the island, this one surfing on the surface, standing on one leg and occasionally doing summersaults. Probably Stream trying to impress Nerine again. Unfortunately for him, Nerine had gone back to the sect island to help with some sort of garden project.