Lyn sat back on her stump. Plans float through her head. She could just leave now. Take her box of money and mementos and leave the village, nobody the wiser about her whereabouts. That left a sick taste in her mouth. She had things that she spent time and effort on in her closet. She was not going to let the Master win any more than she could help.

Lyn decided. She was going to get her stuff, and she was going to say goodbye to the people she cared about. Starting with Duu Huu.

Who just confessed his love for her.

Who she just told and screamed her love for.

Lyn flinched. Hard. Like she was just been kicked into the wall again. She screamed her love to Duu Huu. and he reciprocated.

The butterflies that were in her stomach from deciding to run away from her entire life were suddenly joined with entire forests worth of butterflies. Her heart beat faster and her cheeks felt blazing hot.

Trying to hide behind her blood-soaked bangs, she looked toward the boy she loved.

Duu Huu was staring at her. He was nervous. She could tell because he was picking at the calluses on his palm that he got from using his hammer. Lyn reached over, separating his hands. She stared into his eyes, and he hers. She wanted to kiss him more, but she had things to plan.

Actually, after she leaves with the cultivator, she may never see him again. She needed to give him a gift to remember her by. All of those were in her closet, hidden throughout her mattress. She had the magic coins though. What better to remember her, than a magic coin that could heal your wounds?

“Finish your apprenticeship. I'm only giving you seven years.”

Duu Huu flinched at her words. He stared wide-eyed at the priceless treasure she was giving him. His large calloused fingers reached out to her. He gently picked up the small priceless coin. He held it, his dark eyes flickering between the small, valuable treasure, and her. Like he couldn't decide which one was more important. He settled on her, the coin slipping into a leather pouch where he kept random items and supplies.

“I need you to go now,” Lyn whispered. Acknowledging that she was really leaving him. It hurt just as much as when he rejected her. “I don’t want to get in the way of your future. Please go. Please…” She needed him, but she needed him to leave so she could think.

“I need to get back into the inn and get my stuff. You can’t get into my room. Men aren’t allowed into the maid dorms. You’d get kicked out immediately.” She just couldn’t look at him.

“Ok. I’ll be the best apprentice ever and become a journeyman quickly, and I'll search the world for you. You don't need to make it easy, I'll find you anyway. You can’t keep me away from you.” He stood, his hands on his hips, fire in his eyes. He marched away, a gallant hero marching to war.

Lyn dropped onto the stump, tired. She felt hurt, even with her injuries healed, her body felt drained. She needed to continue. She needed to do this, if only out of spite.

Lyn knew the whole of the inn better than her hands. She knew her master's schedule, wake up, eat, drink, beat the mades and rape the older ones, sleep, and do it again the next day. She knew every way into and out of the inn. From secret passages, to carefully manicured wisteria the maids made sure were easy to climb.

Thinking about what to do, she heard a noise. The fallen leaves rustled, and bushes shook. Lyn got ready to run, like a frightened rabbit. This tree stand was on an abandoned farm. Which meant any unknown presence was bad.

Out of the bushes appeared a man.

Tall and broad, long neck and calloused hands.

He reached for her, grasping her arms.

He pulled her close and kissed her. She melted into her Duu Huu’s arms.

The kiss was sweet, a goodby, a sultry electrifying goodby. Her arms wrapped around his neck. He stood up, and she hung on like limpet, her legs wrapped around his waist. Their lips connected as she dangled from his neck.

Duu Huu crushed her to his body. A hug that melded their bodies into one.

Eventually, he broke the kiss, her blood smeared on his lips.

“Seven years.” He put her down breathlessly and stomped back out through the bushes.

“What?” A breathless Lyn sank to her knees. Utterly confounded by the kiss.

Lyn shifted her thoughts again. Focusing back on her task. She looked up at the sky. The clouds that perpetually covered the heavens looked bright. So it was probably nearing noon. That meant that a lot of the girls would be in the tavern serving lunch, or around the inn trying to look busy while other girls snuck them a snack from the kitchen. Which meant that the kitchen and tavern were places to avoid if she wanted to get in and out real quick.

Lyn knew that in order to sneak into something, you needed to think backward from your goal. Lyn needed to get into her room. It was on the second floor of the inn. An old servants' quarter, used to be attached to a room that is now a room for the Maids to take clients. So the only entrance to her room is the hallway. To get to the hallway she needs to go up the stairs.

Except, Lyn knew a secret. One day when she was dusting the Gold Room she found a wall panel that led to a vertical tunnel. She had found a dumbwaiter shaft. The Gold Room was also only cleaned once a month, and the morning after a visitor left. It wasn’t morning anymore so it should be clean, and empty.

The dumb waiter shaft connected to the kitchen and wine cellar. The easier one to enter would be the kitchen, but it being lunch, Nhabep and her staff would be running everywhere in the kitchen. Sneaking into the cellar would be better because she also knew of a secret passage into the cellar. Nguoiban, when she got scared one time, fled to the cellar. And when the Master went down to find her, she had disappeared. When she returned, after the master had taken his rage out on someone else, Nguoiban, told Lyn where the hidden door was.

That hidden door led to a tunnel, that tunnel led to the outside of the village wall. A place that was marked by three square corner stones. She asked Duu Huu to ask his master what that was for, and he said the Inn was going to make another bath house there. But then a wild spirit beast attacked some decades ago, and the wall was built, cutting the new bathhouse out of the village.

Lyn’s plan was made. Go through the cellar’s secret passage, go through the dumbwaiter shaft and climb up, go into her closet, and tell her friends that she was leaving. Then do it all in reverse. Simple, easy, elegant. She put her remaining magical coins into her secret pocket, tied her treasure box back up, and tied that to her belt.

Finding the stones was a little more difficult than she remembered. But, after finding the red tiled roof of the inn, she guessed where, if she was building a new bath house, she would put it. And, there it was. Finding the trap door was easy, Lyn and Nguoiban planted some eldar berry bushes around it to hide their use. Especially, from the curious militia members on the parapet of their village wall.

Stealthily slipping through, she lowered the trapdoor, encasing herself in darkness. She had just the solution. Pulling out a glowing coin, she used her good fortune to guide her way. Until she estimated she was right where the wall would cross over the tunnel.

Blocking her way was a stone wall.

“That’s… Not part of the plan.” Lyn was confused. Who could have known about the entrance? She knew Nguoiban knew, Lyn knew, Duu Huu knew, the Master probably expected something when he couldn't find Nguoiban …

Plans changed, and she needed to adapt. Lyn pushed against the wall. Putting all her strength into it. She could lift a heavy sack of potatoes, she was one of the stronger girls at the inn. Apparently, a stone wall was stronger.

New plan. She could enter the front gates and slip into the inn from the back door, the same way she left. But then, the militia guarding the gate would see her, and they gossiped more than the old ladies that had a sewing night every other Monday.

There had to be a way inside the wall. She stood and inspected the stone wall once again. Touching the blocks she noticed something. They weren't mortared together. Which meant that she could probably unstack the wall. She looked at each block. Many were the size of her torso. Big gray blocks. Heavy and cold.

She looked up, reaching her coin higher to see where the wall met the ceiling. It didn't.

“Ha, cheap bastard.” Good masons were expensive.

Lyn backed up to get a running start.She was great at jumping, she was short, and the girls liked to tease her by holding things she wanted above her head. So, Lyn learned how to jump high, she could jump half her height if she ran.

Lyn sprinted at the wall. Cogái used to be an acrobat, before her troupe sold her for some extra cash. She taught a lot of the maids some acrobatics tricks and how to stretch. It was really fun knowing how to backflip and whatever. But, the more important thing here is that Cogái also taught them how to wall run. The trick was that you weren't really running, but climbing really steep stairs by jumping.

Using her skill Lyn was barely able to get a finger on the ledge and dangled. Pulling herself over the ledge was more difficult than she thought it would be. After minutes of scrambling to get a toe in a wall, Lyn managed it. Using her new leverage, she managed to crawl onto the top of the wall. She looked down on the other side. The drop was a little over double her unimpressive height. So dropping down would be hard.

“Well, no sense but to just do it.” She slid over the edge feet first. Dangling again she knew that she would need to roll into her fall. She kicked off the wall, turned in the air, landed on her feet, and fell into a front shoulder roll. Just like Cogái taught them.

“Easy, simple, and elegant.” she brushed off her tunic and knees. Her coin showed that the dust from the wall covered the blood soaked into her clothes and skin. Trying to clean the dirt from her hair Lyn ran her fingers through it. But it was for naught as the clumps of dried blood painfully pulled at her scalp. Lyn, moved on.

She neared the door to enter the cellar. It was camouflaged to look like the wall for some reason. She put her ear to the wall to listen for any maids that were taking a break in the nice and cold room.

She didn’t hear anyone. Opening the door made a loud rumbling sound as the stone of the door ground against the stone of the floor and squeaking sound as the unoiled hinges rubbed against each other. Lyn hoped the kitchen didn't hear the racket. She didn’t want to be caught by the kitchen matriarch. She would get her brother, and he would come down and finish taking his price out of her hide.

Peaking around the room she saw that she was in the clear. And made her way over to the door that led to the tavern’s cellar. Rounding an ale barrel, she spotted her second goal. Nguoiban, her best friend, who was sitting on the ground, staring at nothing.

“Nguoiban,” Lyn whispered. The girl's head whipped around. Her large eyes widened even further. “I’m running away. Do you want to come with me? All you need to do is wait here and I’ll be back. I’m running to my room real quick to get my stuff. Just tell me and I'll get your stuff too.” Lyn needed to be quick. Lunch had to be ending soon, and after lunch is when all the maids started their afternoon duties. She had to be quick if someone might tattle on her.

Lyn wouldn’t be the first to flee the inn. Other slaves have in the past. It was never any good. Each and every slave at the inn was beaten for letting one of their own run away. Sometimes it was worth it, especially if the master found a fascination with that girl. Thankfully he preferred older women, so Lyn was safe from his predilections for now.

Nguoiban just shook her head. Standing, she walked over to Lyn. Lyn pulled her into a hug whispering into her ear, “I’m running away to the cultivator. Come with me. Anywhere is better than here.” Lyn clutched her friend tightly. This would be the last time they hugged, Lyn just knew that deep in her soul.

She felt Nguoiban shake her head. Lyn let go and turned. Her friend didn’t want to leave. That was ok, Lyn lied to herself.

The hallway to the tavern’s cellar was littered with hallways and siderooms. Some led to other cellars full of old furniture, barrels, stockpiles, and miscellaneous items. One room even contained a whole shelf of moldy books, a true fortune, if they weren’t ruined.

Getting to the cabinet with the dumbwaiter Lyn threw it open. Only to find it smashed at the bottom of the shaft. The rope, old as it is, apparently broke, smashing the dumbwaiter on the floor.

“Cheap bastard.” A good rope like that was expensive.

Lyn knew what to do. She had seen Cogái do this trick in a hallway. The maid was too lazy to get a ladder to take a tapestry down for cleaning.

She put her good penny away and brought out the spent penny. That way there was less chance someone would notice the light. Copying what Cogái did in the hallway, Lyn entered the shaft, and wedged herself in the tunnel. One hand and foot on one wall, the other hand and foot on the opposite wall.

She inched her way up the shaft. It was a difficult task. Lyn was tired. Who knew crying for hours, getting badly beaten, miraculously healing, saying goodbye to your newfound lover, walking for miles, jumping over a wall, and climbing three stories in an old dumbwaiter shaft would be tiring?

She was flagging, at least until something brushed her hand. She turned her head. The coin's corona of light landed on the absolutely biggest spider Lyn had ever seen.

The monster had to be a spirit beast. It had long fangs about the size of her middle finger. The legs reached from one side of the wall to the other. Each leg, long and spindly. The eyes on its beady head looked into her soul. She was facing a monster. The third scariest thing in the world.

Lyn wanted to scream. She tried to scream. She forced herself to stop. Her breath puffed. Her chest felt tight. She wanted to throw up.

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Lyn could swear there was a drop of venom dripping from its fangs.

She looked up, the entire shaft above her was covered in the monster's silver webs.. If she wanted to make it through to her room she would need to go through.

With agility and speed she had never known herself to have, she pushed with all of her strength and spun. Now her hands and feet on walls not dominated by monsters she will never unsee, she shimmied up the shaft. At least until she hit the sticky webbing. It got in her hair, her mouth, and her clothes.

She would need to burn her good rags and her hair.

She passed the spider. Huffing and puffing up the shaft she neared her goal. She could see light peaking through the cracks around the hidden door to the gold room. She looked down. The spider was following her. It had murder in its eyes.

She moved faster.

She busted through the cabinet door, her head and chest making it through easily. Her legs scrambled fruitlessly trying to get a grip on the slick worn walls of the shaft. Pulling herself through the opening she felt something pierce her ankle. Looking at the hole the monster spider emerged from the hole. Large and black, it had bitten through her leg.

Lyn screamed. Kicking with her other leg was doing nothing.

The spider was pulling her back. Back into the darkness to devour her.

It had her foot through the opening. She braced her other foot on the wall.

The monster pulled her knee into the darkness. Lyn couldn't keep her breath in her chest. Every time she could get something in, it would leave, like she had a hole in her chest of something. She was getting lightheaded. She needed to live, to fight.

Lyn’s thigh was inching into the darkness. Only the legs of the spider were still in the light. She could see the sinister glint of its eyes, glowing in the darkness.

If she didn’t do something, she would die.

Slowly.

As a spider bigger than her, drank her insides.

The foot she was using to keep herself out of the darkness slipped. She spread her arms out, catching the edge of the cabinet. Her slamming into it shook something loose. A fell on her head. The hit made her see stars, and her grip slackened.

She was up to her armpits. Lyn told herself she could do it.

Faster than she had ever moved in her life she let go of the opening to grab at the candelabra. As she disappeared into the darkness a finger managed to snag a hold of some brass filigree the candelabra flaunted. In the dark shaft braced her leg and butt against the walls. The spider tugging her further down into the depths. Bending over double she attacked the monster.

The spider tried to disengage. Its mouth opened in vain. Its fang was pierced completely through her ankle. The monster was dangling from her.

She hit it. And hit it. In the beam of light the open door allowed, Lyn saw her glorious weapon covered in the blue blood of her third most heinous foe.

She smashed and smashed. Screaming. Her attempt at stealth disappeared with each gasp of air she managed.

Eventually after pulping the spider's head, the body detached and fell.

The popped eyes of her enemy leaked, and the black fangs chipped. Pulling her foot to her, she grabbed its head pulling. A wet squelching sound made her gag as the fangs were removed. Gloopy congealed blood dropped out of her wound. Already a putrid smell emanated from her wound.

That's when the pain hit. Lyn almost fainted and followed the fate of the spider. She dropped her most magnificent weapon to shimmy back up the shaft to get a hold of the doorway to her freedom.

With the last dregs of her strength, she pulled herself into the Gold Room.

It was empty. The only traces of her despite plight being a rumpled carpet, the ornaments on the cabinet being askew, and a singular footprint next to the passageway into the parlous darkness.

Well, now there was also her dark blood pooling onto the wooden floor. She was feeling faint. Lyn knew she had lost a lot of blood that day. Too much blood. She ripped a table cloth off of the low table and picked up her used coin from the floor where it dropped when she screamed. And secured the cold and also warm coin with the hand towel against her puncture wound.

Limping to the door, she didn’t care anymore. This stealthy bullshit was too tiring. Flinging the door open and using the wall as a crutch she slowly made her way to her closet. Her makeshift bandage dripped blood. She dragged a line of dust and blood across the wall, practically destroying tapestries collected over hundreds of years. Lyn was utterly too tired to care. The Slaver could be damned.

Either she would leave the inn alive, or she would die. There didn’t seem to be any other option now.

Even though Lyn’s room was directly down the hall from the Gold Room, it still felt like forever. Lyn hoped that the coin was still doing its magic. That the venom in the spider didn’t kill her when she was so extremely close to her goal.

Opening her room she ripped open her mattress in frustration. The buttons holding it together flew across her cramped slave pen. She took the little bag stashed away inside. It held a penny's worth of copper chips, her fishbone needle, a ribbon Duu Huu gave her last Lunar New Year, and a small pewter brooch her mother left her. She emptied all of the straw on the floor, bundled up her two outfits, removed the nails from the wall, threw everything into the sack that used to be her mattress, and limped out.

Seeing a vase on a pedestal, she knocked it off. Hopefully it was valuable.

The smashing of the vase was a unique sound in the inn. And it drew a figure up from the stairs. Phi stood there. Probably looking at the horror that Lyn had made of herself.

Her hair was thick with matted blood and dirt. Tracks of blood had dried on her face. It created a macabre makeup look. Especially where Duu Huu kissed her, it probably looked like she drank blood from her enemies. Her rags smattered in her own red blood and blue blood of the spider. Lyn could feel the stickiness of spiderwebs all over her. Her dress stuck to her in ways she didn’t like, and it hung from her in tatters. Then of course were the footprints of blood she was leaving. She hated to be the slave to clean that up.

Painfully hobbling down the hall, Lyn pushed another bust onto the floor. If she could read, she might have known who that was. It must have been important. After all, it had to be expensive to have a white marble bust of someone made to be displayed in the slave pens.

Lyn pushed past Phi, It was a good thing Phi was wearing her ao dai uniform. Otherwise, the addition of a bloody handprint may have stood out, but Phi’s red robe hid it well. Oh, that's why Master liked the older women to wear red, not because the color red was lucky or cheap. It made sense to Lyn now.

Limping down the stairs she entered the tavern. Everyone was there. Everyone was staring at the door even before she made her entrance. They must have been spooked by the things she was breaking. But, apparently not the screaming, that must have been too common at the inn to investigate.

Lyn hated it here.

She tried her best to march to the door. But losing all your blood in one-day makes you tired. So Lyn settled for an undignified shuffle. As long as one of her feet went in front of the other she was ok with that.

“Girl. Turn. Around.” the Bastard said. Lyn looked over her shoulder and spat at him. Her payload didn’t get far. It was tinged red with blood, Lyn couldn't remember what injury would have made that happen.

The Bastard turned redder than he was in the morning. He marched around the tables. Lyn tried to hurry to the door. But her little, tired, bloody, mangled legs could never outpace the fat man. The Bastard spun her around. He grabbed at her clothes, which was weird. Out of all of his vices, children were never one of them. He ripped her shirt off her. But he didn't look. He pawed at the shirt.

He was after her coin.

Lyn saw red. This man had taken everything from her. He took the ability to see her family. He took her money. He took her work. He killed some of her friends. The man was more of a monster than the spider.

She ran into the fat man. Her pain and tiredness was forgotten. But her slight frame did nothing but jiggle his belly. She slammed her fists into his chest, the highest thing she could reach. Then she got smart. She tried to punch him in the balls, but he was so fat his paunch protected them.

It turned out that his overindulgence of his family's fortune had saved him his own. He was still searching for the coin hidden in her secret pocket.

Lyn was naked in front of all the villagers. Her only clothing was ripped away. And she was too mad, too angry, too infuriated to care.

She jumped. Reaching for the arm that held her clothes. She got it. Lyn grabbed the Pig’s hand and bit. Lyn, for once that day, tasted something that wasn't her own blood. She could hear the Pig scream. He dropped her rags. She fell to her knees, the chunk of meat tearing away from his hand. She spat the vile thing at the other vile thing.

Standing from her knees, she jumped at the vile creature. Its pink mane flopped in its struggle. She managed to clutch at its neck and she secured her legs around its chest. Lyn pounded on its face with her fists. She could feel her knuckles cracking. She felt her thumbs dislocate from holding them in her fist wrong. She didn’t care.

The beast fell to the floor. She went along with it. Still throwing her fists at its face she found herself growling and screaming. Blood splattered. She wanted a drop for every beating he forced on her. She wanted a cut for every girl he killed. She had seen three beasts in the past two days. And the only one that needed to be killed was beneath her now.

She felt hands lift her off. Furious, she turned. Ready to fight again.

It was Duu Huu. His face was harder than the metal he tried to forge. Her clothes were in his hands.

She covered herself with her bloody arms. She was naked before him. Her body, her actions, her intentions. Nothing was hidden.

She wanted to hide. She closed her eyes.

A rough hand gently raised her arms. Her self-made clothes slipped over her. Her body was hidden. She felt something wet touch her. Seeing her love look at her with those eyes, she hated herself.

She reached up to move the wet thing away from her face. Lyn didn't want help or reassurances. She wanted to kill a monster. To avenge all of her friends that died to it. What she felt was a wet towel. Her Duu Huu was cleaning her. He was wiping away her suffering.

The rough spun cloth of the rag felt good on her face. It went back around her neck. Down her arms. Over her legs.

She opened her eyes. Her Duu Huu was on his knees, wiping away the blood on her feet. His towel was stained red and blue. She was not wearing her good rags, well her now ruined rags. Duu Huu had dressed her in her not-so-good rags, turned only rags. It was old, the hem almost reached halfway up her thigh. To each and every person in the tavern, she was dressed more scandalously than a nude whore.

Lyn could not care any less.

She allowed her love to show it, and finish cleaning her. A victorious warrior being cleaned by their rescued love. She reveled in it.

He finished, still kneeling, almost her height. Tilting his head back to stare into his eyes. She looked for something, hatred at what an animal she had become, hatred for almost killing the tavern owner, despair that he never truly knew the depths of her resolve.

All she found was love.

She kissed his forehead. “Seven years. I’ll be waiting for you.”

She picked up her possessions. And walked to the door. The pain in her ankle was gone.

“Lyn,” Duu Huu said. His raspy smoky voice stopped her. She heard the footsteps creaking along the old boards. The monster behind her moaned in pain, like the scores of women he had done the same to.

Her Duu Huu stepped in front of her. Was he to be her last challenge? Was a wall, spider, and ravenous pig, not enough. No, he reached into his pouch. He pulled out a small cloth sack. She knew what it was. She made it for him. It was his coin purse.

She knew Duu Huu didn’t get paid as an apprentice. Guild laws forbid him from taking payment as an apprentice. How did he have money?

“I’ve been saving this. I thought that when I became a journeyman I would have enough to pay your cost.” He took her free hand. He gently placed the heavy bag in it. “ I’ve been working with the farmers as a field hand in the dark of the morning and evening, to get this much. But, with you leaving. I don’t have anything to use it on anymore. So I'm giving it to you.”

Lyn couldn’t understand. Duu Huu reached back into his pouch and withdrew a small metal box. “You wanted some needles the other day. I made you these last night.”

He kissed her on her lips. This time it tasted sweet, just like forever ago, yesterday.

“I will find you. I know that if I don't, it won't be the cultivator you're going to follow that's to rip apart the world. It’ll be you. When you reach the heavens, please, try to remember me. Ok.” He traced a hand across her jaw, he was crying. “I was never good enough for you, this only makes it clear.” His voice was cracking. “I just hope that…” her hands were full. Her sack and new treasures were taking up her ability to hold her most important thing. She dropped them.

“I just want you to remember me, ok.” He had both of his hands cupping her cheeks. She held his hands. She needed to hold him, so she reached out for a hug.

He stepped back. He reached down and retrieved her things. Handing them to her, butting a barrier in her way. He stepped out of her way.

Out of her life.

“The Cultivator left on the north road.” His voice was still thick with the tears that he cried.

Lyn thought she was out of tears. She was wrong. She backed out of the tavern, looking at the faces of everyone that she knew. She knew all of their names, their family's names, what their favorite foods were, and how much they could drink. She could tell them their kids' names, and their stories back to them.

She was leaving forever. Lyn knew that she hated every single person in that room, except her Duu Huu. They all knew about the abuse, perpetuating the abuse by paying for the girls. They were the reason why this brothel was still standing, that it was the richest property out of all the villages around them.

She saw Nguoiban say something but she was too far away to be heard. Nguoiban, her best friend for almost a decade, said it again. It looked like she said sorry.

What? Why would Nguoiban be sorry? They had been childhood friends. Sold to the brothel at about the same time when they were five. Nguoiban shouldn't be sorry for not going with her. It was her choice.

She saw her friend’s eyes dart to the monster.

It fell into place.

Why was the monster waiting in the tavern? Why did the monster tear her clothes off to find the coin? Why did he have a single-mindedness to search for her pocket?

Nguoiban had told the monster about the coin, and where she kept it.

Lyn would get powerful. So powerful she could destroy a village without care. She would burn this shithole down, only sparing her love.

Furious she turned and ran out of the village. Past the two militia guards that manned the gate.

She had never run a long distance before. The halls of the brothel are only so long. You can only run so far away before you come to a dead end and he gets to you.

She ran, she sprinted, she stretched her legs on the open road, and strode for a better tomorrow. She would even settle for a better afternoon.

Lyn puffed, her lungs hurt. She wanted to stop, but the cultivator was getting away. He had all morning to fly, fly over the fields, fly over the mountain in the distance. To fly so fast and far he could leave that pit of despair she just exited.

On a hill in the horizon, she saw something. A man. Maybe he had seen the cultivator. She pumped her legs faster. Her bare feet felt slippery with blood. The coin on her ankle must have lost its magic.

She neared the man. Her vision was dark and blurry. She was gulping in the air, fast, but it was not helping.

She needed to get to the man. She needed to get to him. She needed to get to her future.

A few more steps.

It was bright, brighter than before. She tripped falling to her hands and knees. Her legs felt weak, and wobbly, a newborn kitten was stronger. She crawled. Her arms gave out, she slithered along the ground. Her hands groping and grasping to get one more inch closer to her goal. She needed this.

She gave everything up for this.

She would never stop. Ever.

“Ah, Child, It's good you could make it.” a warm low honeyed voice greeted her.

The darkness in her vision started to clear. The ground around her was bathed in white light. She looked at the stranger.

It was the cultivator. Resplendent in his robes, emeralds glittering, swords idly bobbing in a nonexistent breeze. He was sitting on a golden bench. An easel bearing an unfinished landscape of the abandoned farm they were in front of.

“If you want to stay here, that is fine. I can finish my painting. Do you have a preference on where to travel?” The immortal turned back to his painting. A brush laden with pigment lazily floated into his hand. He touched it to the canvas. The paint on the brush changed between each stroke, he never touched it to the palate he held in his off-hand.

Where to travel?

What?