Not knowing what came over me i shook myself free from the feeling of dread.

Saron felt something was amiss and laid his palm on my shoulder.

“Are you alright?” he said in a worried tone.

“Yes thank you. The call of the Taotie” I said a bit spooked. I didn't knew then how much the saying held truth.

 “Anyway what did you want to tell me Master Saron?” I said trying to concentrate on the matter at hand.

“My little brother Bran told me that the ingredients of your little ‘project’ are ready. Also if you arrived on time we could have practised the first stance of the “Savant Axe” a martial art from the Brohar Clan.”

“Thank you! I am honoured!” I said bowing with my hand cupped.

“It’s fine! Be on time tomorrow you hear?” He said waving me off.

I went to the school and entered the back. Here in Master Bran’s personal workspace was a Bronze Cauldron called a ding that had the Gillum slowly dissolving under a low flame for the last three days.

I checked the notes and the recipe again to make sure I memorized the procedure correctly and patiently waited for the Classes to finish.

I did not wait long until third Uncle finished to answer the questions from his pupils and he joined me.

We had plenty of work ahead of us.

Opening the lid I saw a bright green soup that smelled like foul bread. I carefully added ingredients and raised the flame.

After half a time stick the potion smelled musky animalistic the colour darkened somewhat and we had to let it cool for a bit.

Nearing the end where we repeatedly waited and heated the dwindling substance we finally came to the end.

The final part was when we added the bog white. It prevents the worst side effect of the resulting liquid and added white specks to lichen-green potion that contrasted strongly with the black green of the rest.

“You’ll have to wait a few hours till nightfall only while Cultivating can you absorb this potion.”

“Hmm” I couldn’t wait. The pink mist potion could only be used once a month at my cultivation level otherwise I could poison myself.

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“Ha-ha! I can’t wait how the Dandelion wine turns out!” he said pointing to the Brass ewer that held a beverage that was as much worth as four bronze spears.

We used Elder berry wine and some choice herbs to ferment the Carul into something useful for cultivation. It takes a while but the resulting liquor is as good as the basic spirit gathering pill.

I took my leave from the workshop and went to visit the dogs before going home.

When I sat down that night to cultivate I found the lichen green potion to be a different beast than the purple mist.

It didn’t rage inside my Soul Sea like a cornered beast but it tested my will and concentration. Slowly methodically it searched with tendrils for a weakness for a way out.

It was like a prolonged Go match one needed patience but in the end I won.

Absorbing the essence I finished the ‘hundredth day’. I finally reached the first step of my qi condensation and entered the cinnabar soul realm and then some.

With the Colour change came the possibility to master the early success of soaring leaf.

Afterwards the dust settled somewhat and some peace came back to the Hansa Clan.

I spent my days learning the new martial art “Savant Axe” in the mornings, all Master Bran knew about cultivating around midday and trying to find another Gillum when nothing else were to do.

Unfortunately my search of the elusive mushroom was without any success.

The eerie feeling I got from the tree left me restless. It let me consider my time left in the Village however. I visited all parts of my extended family in evenings and drank some wine with uncles and grandfather.

I also played a lot with Aliah and Drakan whenever I had time, as I wanted to be a part of their childhood before I had to go.

The nights were spent stabilizing my Cultivation now that I entered the first level and once a month another pink mist potion.

The only other exciting thing that happened was that my sister two months after I named her my successor she came bag with a dead wolf on her own.

Ohnir already heard of her impressive martial arts from his elder brother but now he admitted publicly that she is worth the title of hunter. Again we held the Hunters Ceremony but this time I skipped the wine in favour of more dancing.

Saron was still impressed that she was a self taught artist and tried to persuade her to join the militia.

The resulting Duel between Ohnir and Saron was the talk of the village for days as everybody was impressed by the skill of the two that only few saw for them selves before.

Time flew. The days were shorter and the grass and leaves turned brown the morning mist grew denser and the cacophony of the critters thinned.

Game now was sparse in the outer forest and it rained constantly while the smell of autumn caused a feeling of melancholy.

I mastered Soaring leaf and entertained the village with feats like standing on reeds and letting the kids fly on my back.

We started to add tubers and squash to the congee and porridges and the smell of pumpkin soup filled the air of the village.

The sheep started to huddle more and more inside their winter residence. Thanks to the harvest that concluded at that time straw was filling the barns.

Winter slowly came. The robbers flew south for their winter residence and the Wing mouse prepared for hibernation and whit their winter fur turned them to fluff balls that rarely ventured outside besides to fatten themselves up on their hidden stash.

The Dandelion wine was ready but I wasn’t the optimum came at a later time when my cultivation progressed some more.

Finally the day came where the taxman comes to our Village. The anticipation was there and we even prepared a festival instead of a simpler banquet.

Fires were prepared to warm the people that were going to sit outside the hall and the open Door meant that fires had to blaze inside as well.

The meals that we prepared were more restrained as we didn’t know how long the winter will hold us in his grip, and a lavish festival could put lives at risk.

The taxman was an older Official with sharp eyes and sharper features. As humourless and cold as he was he was also fair and not prone to outbursts.

He was greeted by me outside the Village. He was with his retinue of warriors and his gaggle of servants and scribes in tow just at the bottom of the hill.

As usual they came from the north as they started with the farthest subjects, the Brohar Clan, and slowly closed in on the market City of Three Streams.

I introduced myself and told him of my ascension into the ranks of Cultivators.

With an expression of suprise on his face, he stopped the advance Caravan.

Soon he said something to a warrior on his side that had a dark green robe that informed of his rank as Cultivator, the man took a look at me.

My first contact with the spiritual Sense of another Cultivator was unlike the one I had with dogs.

Now I knew how Charcoal felt when he first met me.