Maen hates cultivating.
She hates it. She hates it so much.
There is nothing to read. Not much to eat besides tasteless rations she brought in with her. Even sleep doesn’t qualify as an escape anymore since her dreams just became more cultivation stuff.
If time in isolation truly is something that every cultivator undergoes on their journey, it’s no surprise they’re all mad.
Hardly explains Raika, obviously, but she was a cultivator before her crippling, so she probably did some time in isolation at some point. The points all line up.
She forces herself to breathe again. According to Taurus and Raika both, she’s not at the stage where an overly demanding cultivation technique would help her. Qi Gathering realm is exactly that: to pass it, you just have to gather and be able to contain enough Qi. Hit that threshold, and the body is forced into its first “tribulation” (though it rarely goes by that title anymore, the ease by which most surpass it in modern times making it less like the horrors of “true” tribulations), where the Dantian and Meridians must adapt to holding that fully packed Qi, the pressure in the Dantian forcing said Qi to open up one’s Meridians fully.. With that done, a cultivator can move to the Foundational realm, the earliest stage for most techniques and sects, wherein one can begin to improve the quality and circulation method of their Qi and begin to infuse it properly into their flesh.
She wonders, vaguely, if she’ll get some sort of divine cultivation method. Despite the initial setbacks, Raika’s advice on stopping with the herbal supplements she was taking seems to have helped, or at least not slowed her down much. Maybe she’ll be able to tell her a pattern she can move Qi through her different Meridians in, some unique flow in the pathways between them that others haven’t thought of before, allowing her to gain all sorts of powers. Maybe shoot past a cultivation realm, who knows.
Anything to not have to be in this damn room anymore.
Her focus, already basically free to wander, breaks at last with a final note of frustration, the Qi fluttering closer around her slowly dissipating back into the air.
That, at least, she can admire. The difficulty in gathering the ethereal particles is a pain, but watching them float and flutter as she comes out of her unstable trance, enjoying the enhanced Qi sensitivity it grants even as it fades, is wonderful. For a heartbeat as her mind refocuses on the space around her, caught between the impossible within and the mundane without, she sees sparks in the air. Infinite in their number yet distinct, iridescent yet singular, each particle like a snowflake or fluttering life, clutching to each other in strange patterns and flowing in strange rivers.
She sighs as they fade entirely out of sight.
Ok. Maybe she doesn’t entirely hate cultivation.
Always annoying to fall into stereotypes, but despite herself, Maen the beast-blooded and cat-eyed does love how the world sparkles.
Slowly, she starts breathing in rhythm again. She’s not hungry yet, nor tired enough even to nap, and despite herself, she knows this is an opportunity. To lose this now, after watching Raika suffer, after being nothing more than a late addition and an indulgence on the part of those around her, here is her chance. Strength, and the joy which can be found in it.
And, she blushes, a chance to match Raika in more ways than before.
Everyone has heard of the voracious appetites of cultivators, and in this, finally, Maen finds herself no exception. She wants to climb that bloodthirsty madwoman like a tree, claws and all, day and night. She was hot before, when they first met, sheer force of personality and mystery carrying an attraction all her own, but since her healing? Since her more recent transformation into a towering, chiseled, eyes-glowing powerhouse? Oof. And in Raika’s eyes, in that first night they shared, she could see how much that same impossible, haunted beauty had held herself back. The thought of alleviating that weight for both of them is a pretty solid motivator, all things told.
She wants her. She wants to be here. She wants to be more.
And yet again, as she pulls in her focus and drags the blood of the world into her soul and its own impossible flesh, she struggles, and slips, and watches it all fall apart.
She hisses, allowing herself the instinct as the frustration mounts. She’s been in here two days. Two days! She should be further along than she is. Outside the foot-thick stone doors, Raika, her partner, her benefactor, her ally and her terror, is surely out doing something fucking ridiculous, and all she can do is flail at something children can learn to do.
In the moment of her trance fading, she angrily swipes at some of the glowing motes, growling at the stupid marvels and their refusal to bend to her will.
And as her arm moves, she sees the Qi react.
It swirls. Turns around her arm like it’s caught in a brief burst of wind, wrapping around her like water… and sinking in.
It’s not much. It’s hard to even tell how much it is, considering the quickly-fading nature of her trance and how she has yet to develop her Qi sight. But it sank into her. She focuses, and thinks that she can feel a flutter of something in her arm, a slight pull against empty meridians.
Technically speaking, she’s supposed to just fill her Dantian till it pops, forcing open all her meridians at once. Technically speaking, movement shouldn’t really help with cultivation.
But… it worked. It did something. She’s felt less of a tingle after hours sitting still than she did in that one swipe while on the edges of a cultivation-trance.
She sighs. Long, and deep, and so incredibly frustrated.
Great. Now she’s also going to have to exercise.
Maen fucking hates cultivating.
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Li Shu laughs, long and hard, and Qen Hou smiles wide at the way it helps her absolutely light up the room.
Weeks since the events in the forest, Li Shu still has moments of quiet, where she looks into a corner or at her hands and doesn’t move for a time, and Qen Hou has made it his mission to help make those moments as short as they can be. Not to interfere or interrupt, but to ensure she doesn’t fall into them. Qi deviation is no joke, and neither are the sorts of doubts and traumas that might lead to a Heart Demon. Each cultivator’s journey is their own, but… if he can help it, he’ll keep her on her path.
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“That,” she says with a soft smile, “is the absolute stupidest joke I’ve ever heard.”
She throws a nut at him. “Tell me another one.”
He rolls his eyes, laughing as he plucks the nut from the air, roasts it in his hand and pops it in his mouth, much to Li Shu’s annoyed groan at how quick he’s gotten. He picks up his cup of the local blend of berries and alcohol they call a good drink in the tavern they’re sitting in and takes a polite sip, enjoying how its sharp citrus hits the salty, crunchy snack. The sound of conversation continues all around them, adding to the ambiance and the joy of the moment. The inn they’re staying in is small, but comfortable, on the edge of the main Imperial Road of the area and servicing plenty of members of the local community, caught between cities and with a small smattering of villages in the area as it is. It’s a simple spot, with minimal decoration, but what is there is homely; pressed flowers and baskets and dried ingredients decorate simple wooden walls, a kitchen sizzling with the sound of a healthy fire, and plenty of tables to sit at, with just enough people that it doesn’t feel crowded.
“Very well.” He sighs magnanimously, sitting upright in his chair, stiff and proper as if speaking with a senior in his sect.
“What do you call a wolf, who works as a member of a banker’s union?” he asks.
“I don’t know, senior brother,” Li shu says, tilting her head and favoring him with the smile that makes a dimple in her cheeks. “What does one call a wolf who works as a member of a banker’s union?”
“A loan wolf.”
This time her laughter is half-groan, her forehead hitting the table with a very unladylike thunk.
“Nooooo,” she groans. “Forget I asked. Never attempt humor again, lest the birds fall from the trees from the pain of hearing you.”
“On the contrary, junior sister.” He holds himself primly, even as a smile fights its way onto his face. “If birds were to fall to the ground at my jests, it would surely be because they possess excellent taste, and have fallen to laughter as much as they have to the ground.”
She picks up her own drink, her eyes clear and her smile bright, and just shakes her head. “You’re an idiot and a jester,” she tells him.
He strokes his chin thoughtfully, tilting his head and staring up at the ceiling in contemplation. “I have heard that jesters can make quite a bit in the second ring. Perhaps if this whole cultivation adventure doesn’t work out, I can find my calling in arts better suited to me.”
She laughs again, chucking another nut at him, and this one he lets bounce off his forehead.
It’s nice.
Ever since their fight with the bandits, their journey has been more subdued, their treks through the woods more vigilant than before. Even as he’s entered the Core Formation realm, he’s still not guaranteed to be much higher than the better bandits in the area, and not likely to be able to fight off another ambush on his own. The feeling of falling into himself, of all of the energy in his body slowly spiraling down to a single point after that battle had been terrifying, and drained as he was, it took hours for him to emerge from his trance having formed the beginning shell of his Core.
But even as he dreads the thought of further violence, or of Li Shu being hurt again, he can’t help but marvel at her growth as well.
Whatever she did in confronting those bandits hadn’t taken strength like his own, but instead an impossible control that he envies. Further, it’s clear that using her power in such a manner pushed her over some kind of edge, and her Foundation has improved by leaps and bounds, leaving her close to where he was when their journey first began.
He takes another drink. The life of a cultivator is one of violence as often as it is almost anything else. He can’t help but wish, though, that every moment could be more like this. Enjoying the background hum of conversation, sitting beneath a roof, eating good food with drink that, while not very good, is made memorable by the company it is shared in.
He wishes, with all his heart, that Li Shu need never kill another living being if she does not wish it.
“I must say, senior brother,” says the stranger sitting at the side of their table, “I did not take you for someone possessing so many talents.”
He flares his Qi immediately, the cracked nuts blackening, the wood around him smoking slightly, as he turns to face the intruder he did not sense.
He’s at their table. How did he not sense him?
Hao Nera gives him that same roguish smile he was wearing on the day he and his bandit cronies attacked them.
His hands go up immediately. “Woah now, senior brother!” he says. “No need to scare all the lovely customers away! I come in peace, and we’re all friends here, no?”
Qen Hou curls his lip into a snarl, silent. How did he get so close?
He freezes as Li Shu puts her hand on his.
He turns his head just enough to look at her. She doesn’t have the haunted look, but neither is she happy with the situation. She just shakes her head fractionally, her gaze cold and her touch firm against him.
He reins in his Qi. It’s harder to do than it was before, raging so much hotter and so much more freely since his Core began to form, but it is him, and it obeys.
“Many thanks, honored healer.” Hao Nera nods at Li Shu, his smile a bit more nervous than before. “I’m afraid I seem to have left a poor impression. I’m not here for trouble. In fact, I’m here to present my two benefactors with a gift.”
“And what gift might that be?” Qen Hou says, just loud enough that his tone, coupled with the earlier flare, has the tables around them emptying quickly.
“Why the gift of opportunity, honored brother!” Hao Nera grins at him. “That which all we meager cultivators pursue, yet that which few can grasp. I-”
“Clarity, Hao Nera,” Li Shu says. She doesn’t flare her Qi, or move her hands at all, but something in her gaze shuts the bandit up quickly.
“Of course,” he says. “Apologies. I heard tell of a Beast tide a little ways down south, and I was wondering if perhaps the two fine cultivators might be inclined to gain as many beast cores as they desire.”
Qen Hou scoffs. “Don’t be an idiot,” he says. “What cultivator would end a beast tide without caring for taking their beast cores? Even here in the third ring, each core can be invaluable for those of the right cultivation, never mind their selling price. You want for us to go collect scraps?”
“Ah, but that’s the beauty of it. See, apparently it wasn’t cultivators that ended the beast tide, but the beasts themselves, in a flurry to consume some rare resource that brought them out of hiding. The Imperials kept things from getting too rowdy, of course, but they were with one of those fancy Divisions the Empire’s so proud of, and apparently they left only days later. Hardly enough time to harvest materials, even if they were the fastest alchemists this side of the western rings. They left, and the village is small enough that there’s barely anyone there strong or brave enough to dare go out and collect.”
“And what business is this of ours?” Qen Hou takes another sip of his drink, now uncomfortably warm. He leans back in his chair as he does, ready to dismiss the bandit.
“Simple, honored brother. I’m going up there to harvest a bounty of my own, but seeing as I have so recently… misplaced some foolish companions, I find myself in need of expert assistance. I can guide you there, hide us from any leftover beasties, and you and the honored healer can take as many rewards as you can carry. And, of course, save my hide if any of the many monsters of the third ring manage to sniff us out despite my most earnest efforts.”
Qen Hou looks over at Li Shu, and finds her… pensive.
“What makes you think other cultivators haven’t picked the place dry?” Qen Hou asks.
Hao Nera puts a hand to his heart, as if mortally wounded. “You offend, honored brother! If there’s any one skill I prize above all else, it’s my ability to find a good opportunity. This Hao Nera’s nose is better than any other when it comes to sniffing out a good bit of mutual reward, and, on occasion, a risk worth taking.
He spreads his hands towards the two of them, the implication obvious.”
“So!” he says, smiling wide. “What do you say? A brand new adventure, to celebrate some brand new friends?”
Qen Hou says nothing. Despite everything, he doesn’t feel it’s his place to decide. He wouldn’t be doing most of the work. But-
He sees Li Shu. Her eyes are a bit wide, and a bit more vibrant. Even as there’s a coldness to her gaze towards Hao Nera, he can see it. She’s a medical practitioner without texts or a sect to back her, and they’re both fairly tight on cash, despite what little he took from the bandits before burning the bodies.
Eventually, Li Shu reaches over to the bottle of liquor, refreshing hers and Qen Hou’s cups, and sets it back down with what little remains before Hao Nera.
His eyes sparkle with delight. “You best be treating this one right, honored brother,” he tells Qen Hou. “She’s a damn fine woman and a most lovely cultivator, with brains like that.”
“Hao Nera,” Li Shu sighs, not unkindly; “shut up and tell us about your damn beasts.”