All too quickly there was a call from the tower down to the grasshoppers mucking about on the bottom of the lake – time was up, hurry up and get out of the way.

Hudson hustled back to shore and up into a tunnel as quickly as he could, followed by the others. The formation released and the wave slammed back into the lake bed, washing up over the beach and crashing against the mountainside.

Hudson covertly guarded his haul of roots as they made their way back to the fortress, trailing behind everyone else. After quickly finding and eating a second root, he had discovered very minimal improvements, if any at all. Whatever mystical properties the lotus root had, there were severely diminishing returns.

That didn’t stop him – or the other searchers – from desperately wanting to eat more. When he came upon a third root, Hudson stopped and thought for a second. He pulled out a silverine claw from the pouch at his side, sliding it into his right palm with a grimace.

The insatiable desire to eat the root seemed to happen whenever he touched it. Instead of grabbing the root with his bare hand, he pulled his hand into the sleeve of his tunic and tried to grip the tuber that way. He very awkwardly proceeded to cut chunks of the root off and slide them into his pouch.

He found one final root and cut it into pieces before the call to move on came. As they lined up on the stone bridge to climb a rope suspended between the central stone bridge and tower, A-yi hung back to be last in line with Hudson.

“I saw you,” she whispered to Hudson. “Share some with me, and I will make it worth your while. I have connections back on Earth.”

Hudson was slightly irritated by the woman. “Did you find any yourself?”

She shook her head no. “Only about half of us did. Somehow you were able to unmask their camouflage completely. Like I said, I saw you. You don’t need so many for yourself.”

She should have been looking more for treasures and less at him, but Hudson didn’t say that.

“What’s your price?” she whispered more urgently.

“Here,” he said, gingerly pulling one piece out of his pouch with a sleeve-covered hand. “My price – a favor for later. And stop causing Cor problems.”

She nodded shrewdly and reached for the root. “A favor it is. But nothing too large – a medium size favor.”

Hudson stepped around her and began climbing the rope as she greedily consumed the piece of root. He hurried up the rope, then back down into the tower and the formation room.

Cor was directing all of the grasshoppers into two ranks. There were three injured tied down onto makeshift stretchers and situated in the middle of the group. Hudson trotted up to Cor and handed him his pouch.

“Find anything good?” Cor asked.

“Yup. The roots improve your strength or body somehow. It made me feel like my muscles were more real – somehow. It’s hard to explain; it was a very strange feeling.”

“So… roots? Momma always told me to eat my vegetables. But what’s this pouch?”

“I found extra – they are in the pouch. Warning though – if you reach in a touch one, you might not be able to hold back from eating it. And then eating all of the pieces.”

Cor looked down at the pouch and gingerly tried to hand it back to Hudson. He looked like he was handling a bomb.

“Appreciate the thought, but… share it with volunteers who couldn’t go search?”

Hudson was puzzled. “Why don’t you want any? Does this have to do with you not cultivating?”

“Yeah, it does… but ok, eating this root thing… technically it’s not cultivating.” Cor appeared to reconsider.

“What does it do again? And does it gather qi anywhere in the body, or in your dantian?”

“No, it doesn’t. Remember how Clara tried to sense the qi in my body and my broken meridians?”

Cor nodded.

“I don’t have any qi in my dantian. None at all, and this fruit didn’t gather any qi there either. Not that I can feel, anyways.”

“Your technique – if what you’re saying is true – might be the only technique I would ever consider using,” Cor said thoughtfully. “Are you sure? No qi?”

“The root itself has qi in it.”

“It’s a little too risky for me. But let me keep one piece – maybe for later.”

Hudson shrugged. “Sure.”

Within two more minutes, Hudson had distributed all but one of the pieces of root to happy recipients, and they were heading up the stairs, out of the fortress and to the mountain path.

The steep path – if it could be called that – was little more than thin stairs carved into the side of a mountain, disappearing into the mist above them. The stairs cut diagonally across the side of the mountain to the left, then back to the right in tight switchbacks.

Cor walked with the injured in the middle of the pack. Hudson offered to help carry them, but Cor had placed him at the back of the formation.

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“Watch our backs, and catch me if I fall, ok?” Cor had told him with a smirk. He was still in rough shape, his arm out of commission, but wasn’t letting that slow him or anyone else down at all.

Luckily the steep switchbacks petered out after climbing for just a few hundred feet. There was a landing at the top of the cliff they had just climbed, and stone pavers, worn uneven with time, covered the broad area.

The mist thicker at this altitude, forming almost a deep fog. Hudson could see vague outlines of shapes through the fog; tall slender shapes that may have been trees. Verdant grass creeped up between the stone pavers, and along the edges of the landing area.

At the far end of the landing, the path continued up. Hudson remained at the back of the group as they climbed the giant stairs. A deep solemness pervaded the atmosphere of this world, seeping into Hudson’s pores. No one in the group spoke. Even the sound of shoes scuffing on stone and their hushed breathing seemed to be silenced by the deep fog.

They continued climbing the worn stone stairs, and gradually the fog began to disappear. The tall shapes in the fog were apparently not trees, but were actually the pillars of enormous wooden gates, with lintels stretching fifty feet above their heads. The succession of gates stopped a few hundred feet above him, at the peak of the mountain.

As he climbed over the last of the stairs, Hudson gazed in wonder around him. The peak of the mountain was a flat field, approximately half the size of a football field. It was surrounded on all sides by a sea of fog. A reddish sun stood high in a bright blue sky – more teal-colored than Earth’s – casting shadows behind the four enormous gates situated at the four corners of the flattened mountain top. Statues of fantastical beasts – pairs of griffins, with the head and wings of an eagle and the body of a lion, embraced the pillars of each of the four gates.

He could see the hazy peaks of other mountains in the distance, some lower, many higher, thrusting out of the sea of fog around them and reaching for the heavens.

A line of people snaked around the center of the mountaintop, leading towards a covered pavilion. The pavilion was simply made, with an open front, but he could not see clearly inside of it due to the number of people in front of him blocking his view. In addition to the people in line for the pavilion, there were more sitting on rocks or grassy spots all around the mountain top, eyes closed in meditation.

There were far more people than what had been in his trial. There were at least a hundred, on a quick count, and quite a few that Hudson didn’t recognize.

How could that be? There were only 34 people in their trial. They were all wearing the same type of clothes, so the only logical conclusion was that these people were from other trials. From other worlds.

Another quick look confirmed these new people were human – or at least appeared to be human. The distinguishing factor, however, was that almost all of these new people from other trial groups appeared to be younger in age. They were all teenagers.

The grasshoppers had joined the end of the line ahead of him. He recognized Suzume, who had entered at the same time as him, as the previous last-in-line. He saw Cor walk up to her and open his mouth to speak, but she held a finger quickly to her lips and shook her head.

The sense of solemn gravity he had begun to feel when climbing the last approach had not left. There was something in the atmosphere that demanded respect; almost a weight to the air, pushing down on his shoulders. It was easy to be quiet.

The line moved forward, and Hudson saw someone exit the far end of the pavilion. She immediately found a rock to sit on began meditating. This girl was at most twelve years old.

What was this? Whatever it was, it was not what he had expected.

The line proceeded forward fairly quickly. As the line moved forward and curled around the pavilion, he finally saw Vince and Clara. They were sitting in meditative poses on the far side of the mountain, eyes closed, and cultivating. They must have gone through the pavilion earlier.

He couldn’t find George, though. Where was the man? That worried him slightly, but he reassured himself that there was nothing George could do here to hurt them. George must have been one of the first ones through, and he had somehow gone back down the mountain.

Hudson grew slightly anxious, waiting his turn in line. There were clearly no more obstacles or trials to undergo in the sigil challenge; this was it. The reward was here, at the top of the mountain, but now that he was here, he wanted to get it over with – whatever it was.

He saw Suzume enter the pavilion. She was only in there for a very brief amount of time – faster than others – and when she walked out, she looked ecstatic. Whatever had happened in the pavilion must have gone well for her.

Cor took a much longer time in the pavilion. When he left, he had a dark, complex expression on his face: if Hudson had to guess, it almost looked like he was about to cry – a very strange look on the older man. He stalked off angrily towards the edge of the mountain, glaring at the back of his hand.

Hudson was finally close to the pavilion, with only a few others ahead of him, and he could finally get a good look at what was inside. A broken crystal rested on a raised wooden pedestal, nestled in a light-blue pillow. The crystal was large – the size of a basketball – a milky, light gray color, and fractured from a point in the center, concentric cracks spreading in a web-like pattern.

The crystal was interesting, but what shocked him was the wizened old man sitting in a lotus position, eyes closed, behind the crystal, and floating in mid-air. It didn’t feel real, and Hudson thought his eyes were playing tricks on him. The old man never moved, and could have been a statue, if statues floated.

He watched as a grasshopper entered the pavilion, stood for a minute, then moved to touch the crystal. His hand and body twitched for a few seconds, and then he removed his hand from the crystal and walked out of the pavilion. From the dejected slump of his shoulders, he had not been successful in gaining a sigil.

Hudson wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers and waited for his turn. When it finally came – after what felt like both an instant in time and a small eternity – he entered the pavilion, and on a whim, lowered his head and held a short bow, hands clasped in front of him.

“You have come seeking insight into the dao,” the merest whisper of a voice tickled his ears. The volume was so low that he could barely hear them, but the words themselves resonated through Hudson’s body and mind with an impact far more powerful than their volume. The words demanded to be heard, and drove any other thoughts out of his mind completely.

“Approach the relic, and place your hand on the broken one. If you succeed, you will be marked with a sigil. If you fail, you will have gained insight into yourself. After you have faced the challenge, success or failure, leave the pavilion.

“You may meditate on the mountain top until all others have faced the challenge…” the voice paused, and Hudson would swear he saw one of the old man’s eyebrows raise slightly. “... is what I have said to all others, but you are the last. You will be returned to your trial after the allocated time.”

Hudson narrowed his eyes slightly and moved forward to touch the crystal. He still had no idea about what to expect. Perhaps it was because the old man had gone off script slightly, or because Hudson was the last participant and thought he had nothing to lose, but he asked the old man a question.

“Do you have any advice, sir?” He looked up at the wizened figure, floating serenely in the air. He was incredibly old; his wrinkles had wrinkles on them.

One of the old man’s eyebrows shot up another notch, but he replied.

“In strength there is weakness; in ying, there is yang; within action, inaction. In all things, seek balance.

“And hurry up. My dinner is waiting.”

Hudson needed no more urging. He reached his hand forward and placed his fingers on the crystal. An electric shock coursed through him, and the world around him disappeared in a white flash.

A different world appeared; one that he was familiar with, but which did not exist in reality. He’d last seen it in a dream.