The painkillers were better than nothing. But not by much. Kasri lay on the ground in agony, his body completely fine but his mind telling him that absolutely everything hurt. Like he’d pulled every muscle, bruised every patch of skin, and had every ache humanly possible. Even breathing hurt, with every breath taking a gasping shudder to bring in and a gurgling cough to force out.

“See? Your body doesn’t actually have anything wrong with it, but your brain’s saying that you should be in serious pain.” Dahlia traced her hand in a circle, leaving an orange-red trail that connected into a ring. She shoved it forward, creating a buzzing technique that stole Kasri’s focus. “That should help take your mind off the pain. Try talking.”

Kasri worked his jaw, which felt stiff after a dozen minutes of constant clenching, but found that he could breathe a little easier. “I think it's working. Why didn’t you do this to start with?”

“Because you had to hit the height of pain before I could distract you. If your pain got worse, you’d focus on that instead of my technique.” Dahlia patiently explained. “Now’s the time to ask me any questions you might have. And I’m assuming you have a lot of them, since you accepted our invitation so quickly.”

“I don’t think I had a choice.” Kasri tried to chuckle, but it came out as a gurgle. “You told me I was going to die if I didn’t get recruited, and that was just after I got rejected for being ‘too old’. I would’ve gone with you no matter what.”

Dahlia stared at Kasri for a moment, then frowned. “Huh. That… huh. Good point. It doesn’t mean much, but sorry. We should’ve let you go to the showcase instead of asking you to come with us right away.”

“No, don’t worry about it. I’ve seen what cultivators are like. If you and Lillian were other people, I bet you would’ve killed me by now. Or at least broken a bone or two.” Kasri backpedaled. Dahlia didn’t seem convinced, and actually seemed bothered by the implications. “Um… questions! You said I could ask questions, right?”

“Mmhm. Go ahead.” Dahlia waved absentmindedly. “I’ll answer anything I can.”

Kasri had yet to come up with a question. He stared awkwardly at Dahlia as the gears in his mind turned, his thoughts not coming as quickly as he would’ve liked. Even with Dahlia’s technique, he couldn’t truly focus. So instead, he gave his brain a direct pathway to his mouth and hoped he didn’t say anything too stupid or embarrassing.

“You have three specters. Are they natural, or did you make them with a technique?”

“Natural, bonded with a technique, and I use them as conduits for my way’s other techniques.” Dahlia replied. She flicked her hand, summoning Shimmer and Flicker for a split second before she recalled them. “I have tattoos that store them, and they use the ink to give themselves solid-ish forms. Most specters can’t pick anything up, but you saw Glitter carry that stick.”

Kasri nodded. “I did give him the stick.”

“They grow with me. I share some of my chi with them, and they share some of theirs with me. I don’t take my strongest specters with me, since they’d be too dangerous around cultivators that can’t control themselves.” Dahlia finished, then raised her eyebrows. “Hey, what do you want out of a sect? Other than getting to be a cultivator, I mean.”

“I haven’t thought about it. At all, really.” Kasri admitted. “Even before I got sent to the sect, I always thought I’d stay with mother and father and help them run the clan. My siblings were better than me at everything, so they got to go to all the competitions and events. I guess… I want to do things normal cultivators do.”

Dahlia stared at Kasri for a few uncomfortable seconds. He hadn’t thought his answer was that bad, but the silence made him heavily reconsider.

“That’s boring.” Dahlia said without sugarcoating it. “Go for something different. It can be something simple, like travelling the world, or even something intangible like becoming the strongest there ever was. Everyone needs a goal pushing them forwards; once your life isn’t in jeopardy, what do you want to do with it?”

“I’d like to get a girlfriend.” Kasri said before he could think. “All the girls back home were my cousins, and they were all… like their parents. Or way too old. Even if they looked young, like you two, they were old. How old are you two, anyway?”

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“Ninety-eight.” Dahlia said with a hint of pride. “Cultivators can live for centuries, but to keep ourselves looking good for so long is the real struggle. Oh, and Lillian’s seventy-one. If your parents had you when they were young-ish, we could be old enough to be your grandparents.”

“I think my grandpa’s ninety-two.” Kasri wrinkled his nose as he remembered the cruel old man he’d only seen a handful of times. “And my grandma was… a hundred and two when he killed her six years ago. They always hated each other, and she apparently attacked him first, but it’s kinda sad that it ended like that.”

“Cultivators.” Dahlia sighed. “If they aren’t fighting with their fists, they’re fighting some other way. And yes, I know I’m part of that group. It took me a long time to get under control, and even then, some of my emotions don’t play nice when they get too heated. Just ask my wives.”

Dahlia chuckled with a dopey smile while Kasri processed what she’d just said. “How many wives do you have?”

“Three.” Dahlia smirked. “But don’t go thinking that’s the norm for cultivators. We’re more like a tight-knit group of friends who just happen to–”

“Please don’t corrupt our new disciple.” Lillian groaned, sliding open the door to the bath as she wrung out her hair onto the mats. She wore a different set of robes than before, and Kasri finally realized that Dahlia had also changed. “Don’t listen to her. Harems and polycules are really rare, and most of the time they aren’t fully consensual. It’s hard enough to find another cultivator that loves you for who you are, so don’t go expecting to find a half-dozen just because you have power.”

“Spoken like a true single woman.” Dahlia teased.

Lillian rolled her eyes and didn’t dignify that with a response. “Seriously, Kasri, don’t get hung up on relationships. When you finally feel a cultivator’s emotions, you’ll understand what I mean.”

“What she said.” Dahlia agreed. “What works for you is what works for you. All cultivators’ minds work differently, and you can’t force someone to be something they aren’t.”

“Why’d you change robes?” Kasri blurted out, completely derailing the conversation. Much to Lillian’s relief and Dahlia’s disappointment. “Why aren’t they silver? You’re in the Silverbloom Collective, right?”

“Yup, the perpetually misnamed flower. It’s called the silverbloom because its pollen is silver, not because the flower itself is silver. That’s why we’ve got little dustings of silver here and there.” Dahlia gestured at parts of her robe that were very, very slightly silver. And not the rest of it that was a blue-tinted black, with much much more vivid blue floral designs. “You can probably guess what colours the rest of the flower is.”

“I can. Blue and black.” Kasri said earnestly. “So where are we stopping first? And where’s all the food? I’m starving.”

Lillian pointed at the runic chest. “In the frost chest. We’ve got enough food and drink for half the return trip, so we’ll have to stock up when we find a village that isn’t affiliated with one of our enemies.”

“And we should stop at the Skimwater flats. The water’ll probably help Kasri refill his chi while he works his soul.” Dahlia added.

“Good call.” Lillian nodded. “And if we’re doing that, then we should get some more of that ink. We only had one scroll left.”

Dahlia sat up a little straighter and raised an eyebrow. “Really? What happened to the other three?”

Lillian shrugged. “Someone probably took them for their own disciples. I hope they don’t try using them without a healer at the ready.”

“Eh. It’d serve them right.” Dahlia grumbled, then sighed and shook her head. “Actually, scratch that. Some master stole them and it’s their disciple paying the price. That’s not fair to whoever the poor kid is.”

“And you can make more.” Lillian walked over to the wall and scanned it, pulling down a small glass bottle of water that swirled with dark particulate. “Looks like we only have the water here. Is there anywhere on the way back that you can get the rest of the ingredients?”

Dahlia thought for a moment. “I think so, but it’ll add a day to the trip. And then another day to burn the wood down into charcoal, infuse it with the right kinds of chi, and make the ink. So two extra days. Does that fit the schedule?”

“Easily.” Lillian confirmed. “We’re five days ahead right now. You can take an extra day if it means you get the higher quality materials.”

“The two days are for higher quality materials.”

“Good, then. Should we stock up on some of the injections in case Kasri goes through all the chi he stored up in his body?”

“Nah, I think we’ve got enough.” Dahlia gestured at the wall in general. “We’ll run out of ink a second time before his body uses up all his stored chi.”

Lillian nodded and placed the glass bottle back on the wall. “Okay. Kasri, you’re going to have to stay awake until your mind gets used to the chi. Can you handle that?”

Kasri didn’t feel like he’d be able to sleep if he wanted to. His focus was so heavily on the ring on his chest that he could barely think about anything else. “I think so. Am I going to think better because of the chi in my brain?”

“Marginally.” Lillian squeezed her fingers together for emphasis. “Just like your body’s marginally stronger because of the chi you’ve built up in it. Until you actually learn how to use chi, its benefits are extremely small.”

“And once you do learn how to use it, it’s one of the most addicting feelings ever. We’ll probably have to step in and hold you down for the first few days you’re a cultivator.” Dahlia warned. “Most people overdose on chi a dozen times their first year as a cultivator. That sets you back a month of progress at least, and then you work to get it back, and then you overdose again…”

“It’s why you rarely see cultivators without a master of some kind.” Lillian interrupted. “If they were on their own, they’d be caught in a loop of overdosing and overworking themselves back to an overdose. But we’ll do our best to keep you out of that cycle.”

“No matter how much you hate us for it.” Dahlia chuckled.

“I won’t hate you.” Kasri argued. “You’re helping me. Why would I hate you?”

“Aw. Thanks.” Dahlia tapped Kasri on the forehead. “Remember you said that when I have to break your arms to keep you from strangling me.”