As soon as the liquid passed Gust’s lips it dissolved into dark spiritual energy and surged through his body. The light blue mana in his soul was invaded and quickly turned into the same black, corrupted qi. It broiled within that space and grew, smashing through the first barrier it met and quickly filling again.

Soon, a sharp pain filled Gust’s chest as if he’d been stabbed by a molten knife. The dark qi bored a hole through his soul, prying a meridian open in the process.

More qi leaked out than was contained in Gust’s new, weak pathway, and a storm raged in his body.

Without anything to latch onto, the qi filled every space, every pore until Gust felt like every cell in his body was going to burst at once. He back arched as his head pressed into the smooth wood floor and he sucked in a deep breath.

Saith crashed down beside Gust’s head. “You must focus. Recall the basic cultivation technique the sect taught you. Posture be damned, just concentrate on your breathing. Then do the opposite. Instead of taking in spiritual energy, you will expel it. Quickly!”

Gust grit his teeth, but his lungs felt like they were on fire. His eyes felt so much pressure they could pop and sweat poured from his body. Desperately, Gust focused on getting his frantic breathing under control. His hands balled into fists, and he slowly fell into a shuddering version of the breathing pattern he’d been using for weeks.

Gust only breathed in that fashion for a split second. Even the small amount of qi his weak body could absorb in that state was enough to cause him great pain.

With a groan, Gust reversed his technique. This time, instead of feeling like he was breathing underwater, he felt like his lungs were stuff with cotton. He coughed over and over as corrupted qi escaped his body in fits and bursts.

“Good, good. Keep going!”

He had no idea how it was working, but Gust continued with the same process. Every exhalation of breath was a battle. Gust gagged on air thick with spiritual energy. He coughed and groaned and pushed the qi out of himself in any way that he could.

To Saith’s eyes, the boy was leaking dark, black smoke from every orifice. When the qi proceeded to leak from the wound around the knife in Gust’s ribs, Saith leaned down and pulled the weapon out. “You have the way of it now, boy,” he muttered darkly.

That pill alone was worth more than some small countries’ entire treasuries. It was one of a kind, and Saith had no idea what kind of price he would have asked for it. The pill was more a lifeline for him than a source of income. It was meant for a desperate situation when death was already on the horizon. In theory, the weakness of body and soul that such a state brought on would make the pill’s job easier. Even then, the projected chances of success were slim.

Saith hoped that Gust’s underdeveloped body would be a boon, rather than a burden. Gust would have trouble with the qi, but qi was like water. It always flowed down the path of least resistance. With a body that was so unused to holding qi in, Saith hoped that it would easily let qi out.

Soon, however, Gust’s veins started turning black.

Saith knelt quickly. “Push harder, boy! Harder! You’ve done well so far, but you must force the qi out of every pore in your body! Push, damn it!” He bellowed, slamming a fist on Gust’s chest.

In a haze of pain, Gust couldn’t feel anything specific. Even when Saith pulled out the knife, it only registered as a dull relief of pressure. Qi poured out along with the blood.

Gust suddenly felt like he was choking and every muscle spasmed. His arms reached out for nothing at his sides, legs kicked back against the floor. Gust grunted over and over as he tried to take back control of his body. Saith’s haggard face was inches from his own, but Gust still couldn’t hear what the man was saying.

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Gust’s muscles relaxed and the angry, desperate face in front of him faded away as he closed his eyes. The one that replaced it was kind and warm.

Gust saw his mother with an open arms, telling him everything was going to be okay as the pain started to fade. She floated in a sea of darkness that stretched on forever, but her smile shone like the sun.

At first, Gust reached out for her, but it felt wrong.

After disappearing the way he did, Gust’s mother would have been furious. It was one of the only things that ever made her truly angry; the thought of losing her children. Deep down, she would have been happy to see him, but on the surface? After being gone for over a month, without sending so much as a text, Gust would have expected a slap in the face, not a hug.

It was that thought of her anger and fear that brought about another: How much worse would it be if he died? To disappear for a while was one thing, but to never come back?

Gust opened his eyes to see that Saith’s were filled with tears. The man was still shouting, but the words were incomprehensible.

Suddenly, Gust let out a deep growl and flexed every muscle in his body. As he fought to pull them back under control, Gust felt the pressure in his body building. Finally, something snapped, and Gust felt his body explode with energy.

He couldn’t see it, but the very same black qi that leaked from his eyes, ears, nose, mouth, and the wound in his side, suddenly erupted from every inch of his skin. Every pore was like a hole in an overfilled balloon, desperately spraying air to release the pressure within.

Gust’s body became a cloud of black fog. Saith gasped and held a hand over his mouth as he stepped back. He swept his arms toward a window, and it unlatched, sucking the black cloud out of the room as quickly as Gust’s body generated it.

The qi Gust had spent weeks cultivating was swept away in a storm of its black, corrupted brother. Spiritual pressure skyrocketed as it shot through his body, grew dense, and sought exit.

The corrupt qi flowed out, but not before it forged something to leave behind. An imprint. It was a concept well beyond his understanding, but even Gust could feel something change.

There was now a dark core of maroon energy in the center Gust’s soul that represented an aspect not even Saith had begun to understand.

It was the opposite. Corruption. Wrongness. It was abstract and unfathomable for all who had tried to study it, and it became an inextricable part of Gust’s soul.

If his eyes weren’t clenched shut, he would have noticed the inky, black liquid that spilled out of his pupil and slowly overtook his entire right eye. It was a new filter, through which he would see the world. A gift, in a way. Much of the black qi that fled Gust’s body swirled back around and condensed within that eye.

This went on for hours as Gust struggled to force out all the excess qi. It left him drained, body and soul. Every inch was aching with pain, but by the time the cloud dispersed, the wound between his ribs was only an old scar.

Traces of the black qi continued to leak from Gust’s body as he lost consciousness.

With a wispy smile, Saith took a seat. Once he was sure the boy would live, he pulled out some paper and began writing furiously.

Just outside, a pair of Masters arrived upon a group of grieving mages. Three mourned their loss, while one was already thinking of ways he might replace his broken tool.

Despite the jolt of fear in his heart, Isaac held a straight face as he clasped his hands and bowed before the man he had just failed. “Greetings, Master Christos. We-”

There was a loud crack as the back of Christos’ hand collided with Isaac’s head. The boy’s blonde hair whipped around as he spun and slammed into the nearest building. Dust flew up around him as Isaac hit the ground.

There were pills in his bag of holding, as well as something else which might protect him from the next blow, but Isaac knew the beating would only be worse if he tried to defend himself.

While Ephraim watched the Swordman’s home carefully, Christos walked over to his disciple and helped him up. He brushed the dirt off Isaac’s shoulders, collected a bit of mana in his palm, and then slammed it into the young mage’s abdomen.

Isaac doubled over and released a long, strained breath, as well as a massive amount of mana. It was nearly impossible for meridians to reseal, but the pathways grew dormant as they were forced to purge. His entire body would have fallen limp if Christos weren’t holding him up.

The Master growled in his ear. “I should have never pulled you out of that farm. Should I need a replacement, your parents will have to fend for themselves. Stay away from that boy until I say otherwise. And when I come to you again, be strong enough to end things yourself.”