Last time...

“You will come to discover what that means for yourself, I am sure. But power does not come without its price.” Elder Yang sighed, and for the first time, seemed truly tired and burdened. “Tell me, Sylar. Have you heard of a Tribulation?”

-x-x-x-

“Only if we’re talking about the common definition.”

“If only that were the case,” Elder Yang said, shaking his head. “No, Sylar, a Tribulation is what any cultivator wishing to pursue the dao will inevitably face before they may achieve a Revelation.”

He stood up, paced over to his study table, and withdrew several sheets of parchment before returning to his seat. “Body and Spirit,” he said, drawing two separate symbols to represent them. “Successfully beginning to cultivate each is what we term the First and Second Comprehensions respectively.”

Sylar nodded. This much he had surmised for himself as well.

“Come to think of it… would you not have undergone a Tribulation yourself?” Elder Yang questioned, his brows furrowed. “I have, ashamedly, not yet achieved a Revelation in my spiritual cultivation, but I would have thought that you might have already faced one and emerged triumphant, given your insights into the Spiritual Arts.”

Sylar frowned. The closest he could think of would be his Diviner’s Sight – but that had come through long years of exposing himself to the manifestation of spells of Divination, and the warping of his mundane senses as a result of the energies released by Fate Essence. It had been a long, gradual process. Though he didn’t know what exactly a Tribulation entailed just yet, he assumed from the mundane meaning of the word that it referred to a single climatic event.

“There is a possibility,” he admitted. “But I highly doubt that we are talking about the same subject.”

“Oh?” He seemed intrigued by the possibility, but continued with his explanation regardless.

“After one achieves the First Comprehension, continued cultivation of qi into the dantian imbues the forces of the natural world into their own body,” he explained, and as he spoke, began to etch fluid brush strokes that coursed toward the circle that represented the body. “It is then – just on the cusp of a Revelation – that one faces a Tribulation.”

He began to write a series of four characters. Sylar had read them just short of two weeks ago, the day he had returned from the Demon’s Pass. By the time he wrote the second, Sylar already knew what it was going to be.

不道早已。

It was an excerpt from the Daodejing. Four simple characters, with a number of different possible interpretations.

“Contradict the dao, and be brought to an early end,” Sylar said, even as Elder Yang finished the last of his brush strokes.

It had been a confusing statement to parse. The dao was an abstract concept – by pure semantic meaning, he knew that it referred to a way or a path, and reading contextually, referred to some sort of natural order and ultimate quintessence of the universe. Yet, it was not a thing that could be named or understood.

“Indeed.” Elder Yang peered at him with appraisal. “You have been reading of our customs, it seems.”

“Only a little,” Sylar denied, and returned to the topic at hand. “Is this what a Tribulation is? Some form of punishment for a slight against the dao?”

Elder Yang smiled mysteriously. “Ah, but can the Heavenly Dao be slighted?” he asked. “You have read the Daodejing. Do you recall what is written in its fifth chapter?”

“Heaven and Earth are unmerciful; they regard all things as straw dogs,” Sylar recited. “The sage is unmerciful; he regards the people as straw dogs.”

“That is one translation, yes, and there are many sects who hold that Tribulations are a form of divine punishment for defying its will, and for daring to ascend beyond the limits of mortality,” Elder Yang said. He pointed to a pair of characters. “But equally – could you not read it as such? ‘Heaven and Earth are impartial; they regard all things as straw dogs.’”

Sylar frowned. Tongues only provided one possible translation, and even without the intricacies of the language, he highly suspected that the nature of the dao that the cultivators so pursued was contentious enough.

“There is no reason for the Heavenly Dao to deliver punishment because one yearns to draw closer to it. The dao encompasses all, and one single individual – no matter how powerful or wise – is far beneath its notice,” Elder Yang said. “The dao simply is.”

Sylar conceded the point. Besides, he was still questioning the veracity of the text, and engaging in a circular argument over a topic he knew virtually nothing of would be the pinnacle of arrogance.

“Why does it matter, though?” he asked. “This Tribulation happens regardless.”

“Oh, but it matters. One turns a Tribulation into an act of petty punishment against a far inferior being, while the other rationalises it as a necessary part of the journey of cultivation.” There was a piercing look in Elder Yang’s eyes, one that he had been subjected to many times by his own former master. “I choose to believe that a Tribulation is one aspect of the dao. An unsurmountable truth; a natural result that comes hand-in-hand with the cultivation of qi that precedes it. The body is finite by nature, Sylar, while the dao is infinite. To achieve more – to become more – one must encounter a Tribulation and break past one’s former limits.”

A punishment to endure, or a challenge to overcome. It was a matter of perspective, Sylar supposed. He preferred Elder Yang’s point of view than the alternative, but if he was being frank, he wasn’t too bothered by the distinction. Whatever the dao was – some omniscient entity, a hidden truth to the universe that bound all together, a nonexistence, or some other concept entirely – he was interested in the concrete and measurable.

“Fair enough,” he said. “But what happens during a Tribulation?”

“Just as there are a thousand paths that could be tread to achieve unity with the dao, no two Tribulations are ever alike,” Elder Yang said. “All that is common between them is that it tests the cultivator across all aspects of his being. More than just body, spirit, or mind, it is a challenge of mortality and all that it encompasses. Most who reach their first Tribulation successfully overcome their former limits, but with each passing Tribulation, the next becomes more formidable yet.”

He seemed lost in thought, a forlorn expression on his face. “Tribulations are… difficult to describe,” he said. “On the cusp of Revelation, a cultivator glimpses directly into a small piece of truth, a single fragment of the whole that is the dao. From there, it varies, and no two are ever alike.

“Some tribulations present themselves directly. The Revelation itself is laid bare before the cultivator. Yet, how long can the mind endure as it tries and fails to comprehend the Revelation that they sorely wish to know?” he said. “Then there are those who find themselves alone amid a desolate landscape, as horrors of all shapes and forms press down against them. How long can their resolve last, as their strength gradually wanes against their infinite numbers?”

His next statement came with just a crack to his voice. “And to yet others – the Tribulation plays upon their deepest fears and doubts. It lays bare their greatest inadequacies and dreads, ones that they might not even know existed, and exposes their cracks in them. The dao – and the Tribulation – knows the cultivator better than they know themselves. How can they possibly defeat an enemy that cannot be defeated by might alone? How can they muster the conviction to stay their path, as they risk losing everything to a single mis-step?”

Sylar remained silent. To the side, Guanzhong had his head lowered sombrely. He didn’t need to ask the question explicitly to know what the Elder had faced.

“These are but a few examples of the innumerable ways they present. Some pose little challenge at all, while others can break even the greatest of masters. Some test their mettle in martial combat, and some push the limits of their mental fortitude to its breaking point. There are a thousand paths of cultivation, and equally, a thousand forms for a Tribulation to take,” Elder Yang said. “And for each, there are a thousand ways by which one may fail to surmount the obstacle in their path.”

“What… happens, if you fail a Tribulation?”

“Qi Deviation is one possible outcome, if the cultivator’s core snaps in the midst of a Tribulation, and disperses all the qi that had been held within it while caught within the chaotic energies of a Tribulation. Yet others forever lose their sanity, their wills unable to bear what they had witnessed in the Tribulation.” He gave a sad smile. “But the most common outcome – and some would say the most fortunate – happen to those who turn away before the Tribulation fully manifests. They flee, and retain all that they have previously achieved – but they shall never again be able to progress past the bottleneck. Their road of cultivation would end there.”

So this was what had happened to Elder Yang. He was powerful, of that Sylar had no doubt – but he was now forced into stagnation.

“Is there no way to return to challenging it?” he questioned. “Surely if, as you say, there are a thousand paths to the dao, there must be a way to circumvent the bottleneck and continue onward?”

“Perhaps there is,” Elder Yang agreed, but once more, his expression was laced with a hint of grief. “But I have searched for more than twenty-five years, Sylar, and in all that time of meditation, I have found no way forward. Attempting to cultivate as I had done only results in the dispersal of excess qi, no matter the technique that I commit myself to. I have read all the sacred scrolls of our sect, and even consulted with our sister sects of the Penshan Alliance. Of all the cultivators in the same position as myself, none have ever found an answer.”

Sylar fell silent.

“Is there nothing that I can do to help?” he asked softly. “Surely there is something that can work.”

He gave a sad chuckle. “You are most kind, Sylar. But do not worry yourself over me, and do not pity me. I have made peace with my circumstances, and found a new path in life. Yang Renzhi the Warrior died the day that his fears turned him away from the path set for him,” he said. “Now, my Path is that of the Custodian – the nurturer of this sect, and the guardian of all within its walls – and though my cultivation has halted, I am not without purpose. And… to speak the truth – even if I were to return to face the same trial I had, I fear that I still would not be able to conquer it.”

Sylar couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be in the Elder’s shoes. What would he be like, if one day he found himself unable to progress any further with his spells? If his Essence and Soulburn capacity became fixed, never again to grow? What would he do, if cursed to a life of stagnation?

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“I hope that fate is kinder to you when you reach your own Tribulations, Sylar,” Elder Yang continued. “You are special in many ways, and I’m sure that I’m not the only one to believe that. But the more extraordinary that one is, the more difficult the Tribulation. Be ready, and be careful.”

Sylar didn’t quite know how to respond to all that he’d been told. “Thank you, Elder Yang,” he said, grateful. “I apologise for having you bring up such memories.”

“It is the path I have taken. Things could perhaps be different, but I do not regret it.” He smiled faintly. “If I had crossed that hurdle and continued as the Warrior, I would never have been granted the treasure of fatherhood.”

Ah. Well, that would be the perfect chance to steer the conversation toward safer territory.

“Yang Xingling, right?” he asked. “I met her at the Demon’s Pass.”

“So I’ve heard. Disciple Guanzhong has informed me that you two have had your – ah, how to put it? – differences.”

“Trust me, I’ve got nothing against her. She seems to dislike me for some reason, though.”

Elder Yang nodded sagely. “Oh, she takes that after me.”

Sylar stared at him for a long moment. Only then did the corners of the Elder’s lips twitch, and Sylar sighed. “Yeah, she most definitely doesn’t.”

“Xingling gets frustrated by what she doesn’t understand, and you are a far larger puzzle than any I’ve seen,” Elder Yang said. “She will warm up to you in time, I’m sure.”

“If you say so,” he said doubtfully. He changed the topic. “Have you heard anything about the cultivators who attacked Qiyu?”

“No, regrettably.” The teasing and joviality in his expression faded away, and immediately, he was that same stoic Elder he had met in their first meeting. “Rest assured, however, that we are on the lookout. Junior Disciples of the inner circle are being grouped with Senior Disciples, and are now taking vigil in the various settlements of Jinxiang Province. The Crystal Path and Radiant Star have also assured me of their cooperation, and will soon be mobilising their own members.”

Damn. Sylar had hoped they might have more information by now. Had the cultivator’s death now warned them that their deeds had been noticed? Were they simply biding their time for the opportunity to strike, or were they now retreating from Jinxiang Province?

“I see.”

A brief moment of silence set in. The Elder looked out the window of his chambers. “Will you be staying for long, Sylar?” he asked. “You did not have the opportunity to see much of the sect on your last visit, as I recall.”

“Qiyu’s still being shown around by Shurui, I think,” he said, looking over to Guanzhong for confirmation. “We were planning to return by nightfall, but we could always stay the night before Huoyang takes us back down with the carriage.”

“I could have the guest rooms prepared, if that’s what you –“

Suddenly, there was a sense of something that washed over Sylar. He tensed, startled, and he knew he was not the only one.

Elder Yang’s eyes widened momentarily, and then rose to his feet swiftly. He turned to Guanzhong. “Are there any that we were expecting?”

“Several of the Juniors were close, but this amount isn’t natural for them.” He paused momentarily, his face grim. “Of the Seniors… Quanhao and Shurui were probably the closest, and Yao just behind them.”

“What’s happening?” Sylar urged. The wave of unfamiliar energy had settled somewhat, but he could still faintly sense it. It was unsettling, and there was something primal to it that pricked at his senses.

“Exactly what we were talking about earlier.” The Elder’s face was a mask of seriousness, lips stretched into a thin line. “One of our disciples has just begun a Tribulation.”

-x-x-x-

By the time that Sylar and Guanzhong arrived, a group was already gathered in the training compound dedicated for the Senior Disciples to use. Elder Yang had earlier left them far behind, cutting across the sect with haste to discern the current situation.

“Teacher!” Qiyu was making her way over to him, her eyes wide and fearful. “He… elder sister was going to show me her friends, and then – there was this thing, and –“

Her voice hitched. She’d felt that wave of unknown power too?

Now, the Elder was standing several metres away from Quanhao in the meditation chambers. He was the only one actually within the room – all the onlookers kept a wide berth. Shurui was with Xingling, Yao and Guanzhong, and they were at the fore of the group looking on with obvious worry for their friend.

Quanhao was seated in the same meditative posture that Sylar had seen him in back when he had engaged in tandem cultivation with Shurui, but this time, his expression was far from calm. His clothes were drenched with sweat, and every now and then, he grimaced and flinched unconsciously.

And yet, Quanhao’s Tribulation was not the most chilling sight to him.

It was subtle – so faint that it almost couldn’t be sensed by a non-Diviner, and even he had thought that perhaps he had been distracted for a moment and simply imagined it. But now, after it had repeated several times already, he was certain this was no coincidence.

From within Quanhao, a trickle of Earth Essence was leaking out into the world, occasionally joined by a single Ferin of Water Essence. Rarely, individual units of Spirit and Form Essences dripped forth, but these were far more irregular. The entire stream was miniscule – just about two dozen units of Earth Essence every minute – but it was unnatural.

Mages did not release Essence. Once drawn into their souls, even if they chose not to burn them within a matrix, replacing them with other forms of Essence simply caused the Essence already held to dissipate, and be returned to the Planes where they originated from. Even among cultivators, what he had seen Quanhao and Elder Hua perform had been different – they had used their stored qi in order to stir ambient Essence into motion around them, and he now knew from Elder Yang’s words that it was a state empowered by their Revelations.

This was something else entirely. He tried to carefully pull them in toward him, but was astonished to find that though they were perceptible to his Diviner’s sight, the Essence did not register to the senses of his soul. It wasn’t even a matter of resistance – though he could see them clearly, it was simply as though there was nothing for him to tug on.

He watched, transfixed, as individual units of Earth and Water Essence flowed out from him, dispersing into the environment and fading into the distance moments later. They weren’t even ones somehow going against established theory and being released from his soul – at present, there were no Essence pairs placed within their subshells.

What was this? He stepped forward, nudging his way past the crowd, intending to take a closer look and see just where it was that the Essence was originating from –

A hand grabbed him and pulled him backwards, and he came face to face with a worried-looking Guanzhong.

“What is it?” Sylar asked, confused.

“You shouldn’t approach any closer,” Guanzhong said gravely. “It was lucky that Xingling noticed you making your way through the crowd.”

Still bewildered, Sylar allowed himself to be dragged toward their group. Almost as soon as he arrived, however, he was met with an irate Xingling.

“What do you think you were doing, you idiot?” she hissed quietly, even as Quanhao let out a low grunt. “Do you want your cultivation crippled? If so, be my guest!”

…what?

It was only then that it struck him. The others weren’t keeping their distance just for Quanhao’s sake.

It was also for their own.

Even the Elder, who he now knew had no known means of continuing in his cultivation, dared not draw too close. He took a hesitant step forward, but then winced and flinched, withdrawing almost immediately, choosing to stand about a metre away.

“Keep watching over Spellsight,” she told Guanzhong, disgruntled. “The bumbling idiot would blindly walk his way into an inferno if you let him leave your sight for a moment.”

“Stay close to us, Sylar,” he said, his voice solemn. “And Ling… thank you.”

Ling?

It was subtle, and before his cultivation of Fate-Fate, he would have missed the brief instant that Xingling had appeared taken aback by the term of address. Instead, she schooled her expression, and moved to stand beside Shurui.

“What was that about?” Sylar asked quietly, though he too observed Quanhao.

“It was my mistake. I should have kept my eye on you,” Guanzhong said. “Elder Yang didn’t get the chance to say this earlier, but… a Tribulation isn’t just dangerous for the cultivator undergoing it. It won’t harm Quanhao, but for anyone else, proximity to a Tribulation Storm can upset the qi that one has cultivated. Staying close for a prolonged time can cause Qi Deviation, or worse.”

“Is the Elder safe, then?” he asked, concerned, and whispered in a lower tone. “Even if his cultivation is blocked… won’t this disperse what he still retains?”

“The difference in strength between them is too great. The Elder can withstand a Storm of this level, and perhaps even Xingling and I can make it a bit closer, since we have achieved the Second Revelations as well. But anyone else…” He hesitated. “You and Qiyu, especially. You two must not draw close.”

Qiyu was standing just behind Shurui, and there was a primal instinct to keep a distance when faced with the unknown energies being emanated. It was a force that instilled a sense of power and caution, but was altogether different from the sickening ambient Necromantic energies that had weighed down upon him back when he had ventured into the Lich’s stronghold in Nimbria.

Perhaps a pressure was the closest term he could use to describe the unknown waves of power that he felt. Even here, about twenty metres away from Quanhao, his hair was standing on ends.

“How long will he be like this?” Sylar whispered. Quanhao had calmed somewhat, but his eyes were shut tight in focus, and there was an occasional grimace.

“No one can say. It can be a matter of minutes or days. Sometimes, it can be weeks before the Tribulation finally ends.”

“Will he be alright?”

“He has to be.” Guanzhong was staring unflinchingly at his friend. “Quanhao will get through this.”

He lapsed into silence, observing Quanhao’s every movement. Some of the crowd had dispersed by now, but his group of closest friends remained. Qiyu moved to stand beside him, wavering slightly, and he brought her to stand slightly further away from the Tribulation Storm.

The trickle of Essence never once abated. A sluggish stream of Earth, Water, and Spirit flowed listlessly out of Quanhao, but remained imperceptible to the senses of his soul.

A single hypothesis came to mind, but it was one he couldn’t test – and even if it were true, he would have no idea what it all would mean. If he were to raise it in an academic discussion with any mage, he’d be laughed at, and proclaimed an idiot.

Yet… what else could it be? He tried to think of an alternative hypothesis, but all others that came to mind were unlikely, given what he knew of Essence Theory.

His conjecture was thus: somehow, during the process of a Tribulation, a cultivator established a direct connection to the Planes Beyond. They became a temporary Nexus of Power, not unlike the weaknesses between Planes that saw Essences bleeding into the Material Plane, though the rate of Essence being released from out of Quanhao was orders of magnitude lower than a true rift.

Yet… some things didn’t quite fit. As far as he was aware, no Nexus spilled forth more than a single type of Essence.

Still, this was the closest conjecture he had that fit what he was seeing.

But if so…

Where was Quanhao’s consciousness right now?

-x-x-x-

A Primer on the Elemental Planes for the Neophyte mage

IV. Earth

The Elemental Plane of Earth is, perhaps, one of the simplest to describe.

Rocks. Stones. Lots of them. Perhaps some sand here and there.

Yup, that’s pretty much it.

Oh, what was that, dear student? You wanted more? Well, you should have just said so! Here is an explanation that is a little more concrete!

… get it? Concrete? Because it’s made out of rock products?

Now that I have your attention, dear reader, let us proceed with the actual primer!

For this Primal, the Nexuses of Power where the veil between the Material Plane and the Elemental Plane of Earth are weakest tend to be located in sites with geological activity. Among the realms of Resham, perhaps the best known are the Sundered Depths, and the Tenebrous Caverns. Earth Essence spills forth in great number from these rifts, and as you will already know from the previous Primals, circulates in the ambient environment to be fashioned into spells.

The environment is warped in the vicinity of these Nexuses. Here, anything that contains even a remote trace of earth or stone behaves strangely. Even a reasonable distance from the epicentre, one may find the very earth shifting, melding, fusing, and grinding, never once settling into stillness. Closer to the rift, the surrounding environment is imbued with some aspect of the Elemental Plane, and one may discover perhaps ores containing the prized adamantine. Should you discover such a vein in the future, dear student, please do remember your former master, and send some of the fortune you are sure to receive my way!

Like the other Primals, the Elemental Plane of Earth sorely lacks diversity. It is a land of beings made up of stone, stone, and more stone.

The primary denizens of the Elemental Plane of Earth are, of course, the Earth Elementals. These range from small, ant-sized lumps of sentient coal and pebbles, up to their larger Mud Elemental kin, and all the way to the ancient Adamantine Elementals. In the past, about three centuries prior to the writing of this text, a sentient Aspect of Earth had emerged from the Tenebrous Caverns and caused much devastation to the land of Kalathurn in its rampage, but was stopped by the efforts of the two reigning archmages of the time.

Several other beings have also been described to be found within the Elemental Plane of Earth. However, there is still much disagreement in the scholarly circles as to whether these are indigenous to the Plane itself, or forms of biological life native to Resham that were inadvertently twisted by the spilling of energy and Earth Essence in the vicinity of a rift. Nonetheless, Gargoyles, Basilisks, Crystal Scorpions, Sand Sprites, and more have all been described to exist within the Plane of Earth.

For further information, I would encourage seeking out the Bestiary penned by Spellsong Firefeather, or perhaps the memoirs of the Archmages who resolved the Tenebrous Crisis.

[Transcriber’s notes: This text was the third draft created by Sylar Spellsight six months following his establishment of the first Nimbrian Academy of Essence Studies, as part of a series of primers on the Elemental and Transcendental Planes. A grocery list is written on the back of this sheet, repurposed by Sylar Spellsight three years after its creation.]