Lindon’s breath came in sharp gasps as he released the bucket of fish, dropping it to the ground with a loud clang. He fell back onto the floor groaning, his muscles turned to rubber. The climb was brutal; feeding Elder Whisper was not a task typically given to Foundation sacred artists. While it might take a Copper twenty minutes to reach the top, Lindon’s journey had taken him over an hour of pain and endurance.

As he lay panting, all of his failures raced through his head. From his earliest memories, Lindon had been a disappointment. While Kelsa reached Copper at an early age of nine, he was still no closer to advancing than he had been when she had started training two years prior. When he failed the First Elder’s test for the fifth time, he was given the moniker ‘Unsouled’. He was told there was something wrong with him, that he would never become a sacred artist. And now, when he was given the opportunity to finally move forward, it was ripped away by those closest to him. It was just the way the world worked: the strong prospered while the weak were left with scraps.

Lindon clenched his fist and grit his teeth. The world he lived in was an unfair one. If he continued down the path he was on, nothing would change. He would continue to be the weak one, the shame of the Wei clan, the Unsouled.

No, things could not remain like this. The incident with the orus fruit was just a forewarning of what was to come. He had to reach out and create his own opportunities. If he was to become strong he would have to carve his own path.

Forcing himself to his feet, Lindon made his decision. He pressed his hands on the seal on the wall next to him and fed it what little madra he had remaining in his core. The giant, ornate doors in front of him slowly opened, revealing a large circular room with every inch of the walls covered in mirrors. In the center lay a large white fox, the size of a grown man. Its eyes were closed as if asleep, however the serenity was spoiled by its five lashing tails.

As Lindon stepped into the room, the fox’s eyes slowly slid open, acknowledging him.

“Lindon Wei Shi.”

Lindon bowed low at the fox’s words.

“This one has brought you your meal honored Elder,” Lindon said, setting down the bucket in front of him before backing away.

Elder Whisper stretched before standing up and padding over to the fish.

“But that’s not why you’ve come, is it?” questioned Elder Whisper’s voice from behind Lindon.

Lindon kept still as a second Elder Whisper silently walked out from behind him, taking a seat a few paces away from Lindon as the first Elder Whisper continued to eat the fish. The second Elder Whisper fixed his stark blue eyes on Lindon, patiently waiting for him to respond.

“This one wishes for your guidance on his path as a sacred artist,” Lindon finally replied, breaking the silence.

Elder Whisper continued to gaze at Lindon, searching for something within the young man.

“Many have approached me for instruction and none have left satisfied. What makes you different Wei Shi Lindon?”

“From a young age, this one looked up to the sacred artists of the Wei clan. This one saw the incredible creations of the Soulsmiths, the overbearing strength of the Enforcers, the duplicity of the Rulers, and the precision of the Strikers and was inspired. It was this one’s desire to grow up and serve the clan just as his family has for generations. However it was not to be.”

Lindon clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white as he dug his nails into his palms.

“This one… no, I was a cripple. Since my first attempts at cycling, I’ve been unable to increase the size of my core in over six years to what most Foundation artists do in less than one.”

Lindon’s fists began to tremble, blood slowly marring the pristine white stone as his nails pierced his skin.

“I took it all in stride though, didn’t I? All I had to do was keep trying. Surely after all these years my efforts would bear fruit and I would finally break through this weakness of mine.”

Bitter laughter wormed its way out of Lindon’s throat as he ripped the wooden badge from his chest and thrust it towards Elder Whisper.

“No, it just wasn’t to be, was it? My attempts to better myself for sake of the clan left me rewarded me with this mark of shame. ‘Unsouled’ they call me. My only sin was being dealt a poor hand from birth yet I was decreed worthless and a lesser man!”

A smile that did not reach his eyes formed on Lindon’s face as he dropped the badge now smeared with blood to the floor with a clatter.

“However, what finally showed me the truth of things was my own family’s betrayal. I had the means to fix my brokenness in my hands and it was ripped away for just the hint of a possibility that it would push them to advancement! A crop that would sustain a poor farmer through the harsh winter was stolen away for a single, wild party of his rich landowner.”

“I learned the truth of the world that day. I will no longer dedicate myself to a cause that does not care for me. I will be greedy and take what is in front of me. I will not let an opportunity pass me by. I will become strong, no matter the cost!”

Lindon’s words rang through the chamber as he stood panting. His eyes were wild with emotion as he glared at Elder Whisper, challenging him. They conveyed the magnitude of suffering he had lived through to drive him to this moment.

Elder Whisper — seemingly unaffected by Lindon’s fiery glare — shifted slightly, deep in thought. The silence stretched on.

“You’ve suffered much for one so young. The Wei clan truly has fallen far: the weak bullying the crippled. I have decided. While the path you travel must be your own, I will guide as I can,” said Elder Whisper.

Lindon was numb. He had not actually expected Elder Whisper to agree to aid him. This was far beyond the few words of wisdom he expected to receive.

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After a few moments, Lindon recomposed himself and bowed deeply to Elder Whisper.

“This one apologizes for losing himself in his emotions. This one is deeply grateful for whatever scraps you deem him worth receiving.”

Elder Whisper gazed at Lindon before shaking his head, “Do not apologize for baring your emotions, they revealed your conviction. If I were to turn you away, I have no doubt that you would blaze your own path as a sacred artist and surpass your deficiencies.”

Both copies of Elder Whisper got up and padded to the center of the room, merging smoothly back into one fox.

The now singular Elder Whisper nodded towards the space in front of himself, “Come, sit.”

Lindon walked over to Elder Whisper and sat before him. Elder Whisper leaned forward and touched his nose to Lindon’s forehead. Lindon gasped as madra rushed into him. This was far beyond what he would have gained from the orus fruit. The sensation began as a pleasant warmness but quickly became painful, his channels stretching themselves beyond comfort. Lindon grit his teeth and clenched his eyes shut, bearing the discomfort.

He gasped as Elder Whisper pulled back, cutting off the flow of madra. Lindon turned his attention inward. Despite receiving an incredible amount of madra, his core was not full. His channels simply could not process the amount of madra that Elder Whisper pushed into him. He felt the excess spilling out around him.

Lindon gasped as the flow of madra was cut off and he fell to the floor. He lay there panting as he tried to work up the strength to sit back up. Lindon felt a soft paw touch the back of his head, relief spreading like water from the contact as the pressure was drained from his channels.

“Peace, child,” came the deep voice of Elder Whisper from above him. Lindon felt his strength return to him. He pulled himself back together and sat back up, returning to his previous position. Gratitude filled him as Lindon realized what he had received.

Lindon bowed his head expressing his thanks, “This one cannot repay what has been done for me.”

“This was no gift,” Elder Whisper shook his head. His reflection in the mirror behind him stood up and shook itself before beginning to pace. There were now two foxes once again.

Lindon raised his head and wrinkled his brow in confusion. The madra he had just received was more than he had been able to cultivate since he was taught by his father Jaran.

The sitting Elder Whisper turned to Lindon and explained, “Your channels were unable to fully absorb even the smallest drop of madra I could produce. They are severely malformed, to the extent I have not seen in a millennium.”

Lindon stared numbly at the wall in front of him. A kaleidoscope of reflections flashed across the mirrors as the second fox paced. A shadowed man stared back at him from beyond the mirror. His reflection distorted, mocking him. Visions of his clan, of his family giving up on him raced through his mind. Were they right? Was every struggle he made destined for failure? Lindon’s clenched fists trembled, his resolve fracturing.

“So this one is broken?” his voice cracked.

Elder Whisper growled at Lindon’s words. Hard shadows splayed across the room as the lighting grew harsh.

From behind Lindon came the voice of the pacing fox, “Where is the man who came to me with the conviction to fight? Who is this coward? I was approached by a man who refused to give up despite his poor lot in life. One who has had everything taken from him but never let his hope die. Where has that man gone? Raise your head Wei Shi Lindon, this is not the moment you falter!”

As Elder Whisper spoke, Lindon felt something rising inside of him. The hope that had began to crumble with Elder Whisper’s revelation reforged itself into from flawed iron into a shining steel. No, he would not let himself falter. Lindon raised his head. He had rediscovered his determination. His eyes shined a new light as he met Elder Whisper’s intense gaze.

“My apologies Elder,” he shook his head softly, “A moment of weakness.”

Elder Whisper flicked a tail, acknowledging Lindon’s apology.

“Even at the peak of my strength, I too have felt the burdens of my own inadequacy. What matters is our ability to not succumb to them. Persevere. ”

“This one expresses his gratitude for the Elder’s advice,” Lindon said, pressing his hands together and bowing his head.

“Let us speak of it no more,” the voice of Elder Whisper came from behind Lindon. He padded past and joined his twin in sitting across from Lindon. Their tails swayed in sync in a hypnotizing pattern accentuated by the mirrors surrounding them.

The left Elder Whisper spoke first, “Your disability, albeit severe, is not unheard of. The door to being a sacred artist is not closed to you yet.”

The other Elder Whisper continued, “As I said before, your channels are severely malformed. No matter how hard you push yourself, you will never be able to take in and cycle enough madra to advance. Your channels must be reformed.”

Lindon creased his brow in thought and questioned, “How can this one do so?”

“You have two options available to you. The first is to practice a powerful cycling technique while I force madra through your channels. This would slowly force the channels to expand while greatly increasing the size of your core. However, this would be a slow process. It would take at least two seasons for you to reach Copper,” said the right Elder Whisper.

“The other path available to you is one I am more intimately familiar with. When the clan was founded, the local snow foxes and the Wei clan formed a symbiotic relationship. When clan Elders died, their remnants were given to the foxes to be consumed and foster the next generation of sacred beasts. The young sacred artists from the clan would in turn consume the remnants of the snow foxes. This is how the Path of the White Fox remained the most powerful of the clans in the Sacred Valley.

“However, as centuries past, the Wei clan grew arrogant. They forgot that it was their partnership with the foxes that made them strong. As time went by, the path they practiced became warped. The foxes became unable to produce the same numbers of sacred beasts without the clan remnants to sustain them. Both fell from grace and are shadows of their former selves.”

Elder Whisper stopped, both foxes’ eyes growing distant as they were lost in their memories. The silence stretched on as Lindon absorbed this new information. The Wei clan library had gone up in flames around two hundred years ago. All manuscripts from the founding years were gone, either burnt in the fire or hidden away by elders.

Lindon broke the silence, “Were you not there to guide them? What caused them to lose their way?”

Elder Whisper snapped back to the present. With a blink, where there were two foxes there were now one.

He sighed, “The Path of the White Fox was mine. I taught them the sacred arts and with it drew unwanted attention. It is why I found myself in this prison.”

Lindon sensed that there was more to the story by the way Elder Whisper’s fur bristled but he did not elaborate.

“The technique of consuming the remnant of a sacred beast is far beyond you. It was the rite of passage of a Jade advancing to Gold.”

Lindon’s eyes grew wide at the mention of Gold. Golds were little more than a legend in the Sacred Valley. The majority of its inhabitants stopped advancing at Copper or Iron with the few elders and clan patriarchs reaching the coveted Jade stage. The mantra they were taught at a young age was ‘Copper sight, Iron body, Jade aura’. If there were stages beyond Jade, what wonders did they grant?

Elder Whisper continued, “However, this avenue is not closed to you. As your core is not fully formed you cannot consume a remnant. Instead, you would bring the remnant into your core and allow it to merge with your being. A Gold who consumed a remnant bares a goldsign, a trait granted by the remnant. You would not just have a symbol of your stage, you would become something more. Your body would be forged anew, ridding you of your deformity.

“This is not a decision you should make lightly, return home and consider what you wish to do. This is your path, you must choose what you believe is best for yourself.”

With that, Elder Whisper closed his eyes and lay down serenely on the white stone floor. The ambient light that filled the chamber dimmed, leaving Lindon in the twilight. He remained still for a brief moment before standing up and bowing to Elder Whisper. Lindon picked up the long-forgotten bucket that had held Elder Whisper’s meal and began his trek back down the tower.