I “woke” from my meditation as the sun rose in the sky. I lay floating in the shallows of the surf as the tide rolled in, the waves carrying me gently. They didn’t tumble me, didn’t release me to scrape against the sands, instead they carried me, buoyed me. I sat up then, finding my feet in an easy motion, feeling neither thirsty or tired. My hand dug into my bag, retrieving some still-dried meat, chewing on it contemplatively as I surveyed my surroundings. The sky and land dyed with the color of carnations as the sun creeped higher and higher above it’s watery shroud.

I raised my arms in a stretch, onto the tip of my toes. Turning then to the side, then reaching down once more, a series of loosening stretches to test and prepare my body for the day. Now that I wasn’t waking to a strange new place, desperate for answers and brooding, I could prepare myself thoroughly. I knew I could handle the crabs on the shoreline, but the armies of cultivating insects could definitely pose a threat to me. My very soul was tied to the waters anyway, and I could find food aplenty there. I decided that I might as well walk along the shoreline, instead of trying to delve into the forest with it’s unknown dangers once more.

As the waters slid up and down the beach, I danced along their edges, feet avoiding the foamy caress. Giggling to myself, I let a grin grow on my lips, when was the last time I played? Had fun? Even the companionship of others was always a temporary joy, never truly enjoying even the most intimate of relationships. My life had become dedicated to martial service, and cultivation, carving for myself a path to my goals. Now though, I had reached it! I had achieved my dream, though I was certainly in strange new waters now.

Dancing now with the waves, I didn’t hesitate to kick up a spray, capturing it in the air, making it swirl around. I got to see how much else was truly caught in the waters, sand and white crystals and plant life all tumbling out of the waters as I seized them. All were part of the water, but not truly a piece of it. I found I could focus, loosening my grip to simply let it all float high around me. Or I could tighten it, squeezing out everything but the purest waters for me to sip from.

Cultivation and fun, who had ever tried to merge the two? Maybe those in a strange Way, or those not needing to fight and kill for the Blessed Emperor. Maybe others too could find such strange joys in simply exploring and playing with their powers. Instead of the focus I’d been taught so as to weaponize our bodies and minds. Now though, now I was no longer a soldier, by force. My body was my own, crafted by my mind, and my mind was churning with the possibilities and potential filling my Vessel.

My Vessel was sore, I found from the heavy work I’d done the night before, but seemed to have swelled further. Able to take in more energies, able to exert more control. I was patient with myself, simply playing now, never using more than a 10th of the energies, and never truly spending them. Simply reaching out with my chi, caressing the environment, playing and letting it settle back in as it pleased. A gentle flow, a trickle of power, instead of the churning raging whirlpool I’d set the night before.

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In the moment, I did not need the storm, I did not need power, I simply needed to relax my hold and play with the energies freely given here. My feet started to beat a rhythm, interspersed with the crash of waves. The swish of the sand, the splash of the surf, and the rumbling bass notes churning beneath the waters. Never growing damp, uncomfortable, snacking on the remains of my provisions as I traveled around the coast of the island. Should I find people, I didn’t think it unlikely that they would be nestled around a harbor of some kind. If no one was here, well, then I’d decide at that point. My boat was still left far behind as a marker of sorts, but who knew how I’d become turned about with my mad dash through the woods and the storm.

My journey continued this way for much of the morning, almost as if I was just enjoying a beach-side stroll. Laughing at leaping fish, pausing when I wished to observe strange marine life. A hurled rock dissuaded one of the smaller giant crabs from investigating me, and I had dipped into the shallows of the jungle at the sight of a long vine. This I repeatedly soaked in the salt-water, softening and twisting it, drying and soaking it, to fashion myself an improvised rope of sorts. With the success of my previous use of an ad hoc morningstar, this time I chose a pointed shell to nestle into the end of the rope. Securing it as I walked, and wrapping the remainder over my shoulder and around my waist.

Not a true weapon, but close enough to a rope dart to buy myself some time if need be. Plus, rope was always handy. Around mid-day, I found a strangely square rock, and like any child with a cool rock, I picked it up, and decided to keep it. Someone had once told me that if you give someone a cool enough rock, they would sleep with you. And if they didn’t sleep with you, the rock just wasn’t cool enough. She seemed very successful in her efforts, and I remembered her with a fond smile, as I wrapped the other end of my vine-rope around the square stone. Maybe not sleep-with-you cool, but definitely interesting enough for me in a hit-you-really-hard kind of way.

Now equipped with a rope with a pointy end and a heavy end wrapped around me, I dubbed myself sufficiently armed for well…As well as I could be in the moment. I would vastly prefer a bow in my hands, and several quivers full of arrows, but that was not something I had learned to craft myself. So I danced with the waves of the ocean till the sky shifted to the colors of peaches and plums in a bowl.

My Vessel suitably rested, I once more found myself pausing as the moon rose to prominence, following the motions of the waves, gathering them around me in a swirl. As night fell, I needed no nest of wood or stone, no warming fire, or steadfast shelter. Instead I let the waves crash over me, cradling me in a bubble of comfort, obscured from sight, cultivating in the shallows as the moon left an eerie glow on the untold darkness of the waters. I could feel the motion of the waters more clearly now, feel the creatures moving, hunting, living there. I could keep them from me or beckon them closer by the nudging of the currents.

I elected however to keep myself isolated, most likely looking like some strange spirit, the froth of the air churning over me like a breaker. Refreshing me with every breath, every rolling wave of the sea. I let it carry me out with the tide, and coax me higher up once more with the morning.

My eyes fluttered open, and I shed my watery blanket, stepping out once more onto the beach. As I began my stretches however, I noticed something bobbing in the waters. I tilted my head, and began to peer closer, eyes widening as a figure stood on the prow of their boat, a net in their hands.