“How do you feel boy?” Dunrock asked Wolf for the hundredth time. “Leave me be ye old pancake.” Grunted Wolf. The skin on his back was still tender from his lashing, yet he refused to side idle. He had begun doing some light work around the smithy, his flesh far from being ready to work the bellows. The boy's mind had been ablaze with anxiety, sadness, anger, hunger, fear, the list went on. From one moment to the next he wasn’t sure what would cross his mind.

Would they kick him out, would Bruce be okay, when would he heal enough to beat Shen within an inch of his life? Many questions to be answered. Most of them he could figure out on his own. If they were to kick him out, they would have already done it. Bruce would not be all right, according to Dunrock the boy was paralyzed from the waist down. And at his current rate of improvement he would never be strong enough to defeat Shen.

He had been on the cusp of figuring it out. So close to unlocking his cultivation. Now he couldn’t focus enough to even make a ding in his iron core. He couldn’t maintain any feeling longer than a moment in his current state.

So he did busy work. Sweeping, stacking, organizing. Anything to keep his mind from what was going on around him. If he had been disliked before, he was hated now. A pariah to any in his age group and even some of the elders. Bruce was well liked, a promising young man with endless potential, now a bed ridden invalid. For most, that was hard to forgive.

So Wolf did what any young outcast would do. He buried himself in his own misery. Days turned into weeks. Weeks into months. He rarely spoke, and when he did it was only to Dunrock. He now slept on a straw mat in the storage shed next to the smithy. The smith himself was amazed at the boy's progress in smithing, but he worried about his mental health. Man is not a machine. Even the old dwarf occasionally needed breaks, but Wolf just worked.

The young boy that had shown up originally was gone, a burgeoning young giant taking his place. Dunrock felt like the boy had grown overnight, height, width, he was now just a hard working wall of muscle. Dwarves had always been known for their strength and constitution, but this boy could endure longer and lift more. It made an old dwarf feel a wee bit inadequate in his own forge.

“GODDESS DAMN YOU!” Dunrock watched as the young man in question howled obscenities at the steel. He had just ruined his fourth horse shoe in a row. It was unlike the fastidious junior blacksmith, so Dunrock was slightly concerned. He still hadn’t officially taken him as an apprentice, but it was close enough nobody had any doubts.

“Boy, stop working that steel like it slept with your mum.” Dunrock finally stepped in and pushed the boy back from the forge. The boy let the hammer drop with an angry thud. “Alright, I’ve had enough, it's time for you to go back to Master Xian’s classes to get your anger back under control.”

“I have it under control.” A red faced Wolf, spit out between clenched teeth. Dunrock just glanced at him. “I’m not asking, I’m telling, don’t push me on this boy.” Wolf looked like he was going to argue, but months with the old dwarf had proven that the old adage about dwarves and stubbornness was clearly steeped in truth.

Instead Wolf turned and walked away. A pit in his stomach. There was nothing he dreaded more than seeing the others. Bruce even more than Shen. Wolf knew the hate in Bruce’s eyes would break him even further. His guilt had been hiding behind his anger for awhile now, just waiting for a chance to pop out and ambush him the moment he showed himself.

It was mid day, everyone would be in the practice yard. He could go in now like a bull rushing to the slaughter. Get it over nice and quick. Yet he couldn’t find the courage. He didn’t have that kind of strength. He found his feet moving and looked up when he arrived at the monastery gates. They were wide open during the day. He looked out past them, into the wild forest. The lush green trees, the hidden trails, the crystal clear ponds.

Maybe he should make a break for it. He knew he had been alone before. He had survived then. Mayne it would be easier to live amongst the animals than the humans. He was even stronger now, he would be fine in the forest. He would be at peace. He didn’t even notice as he took his first step, the call of the wild beckoning.

“Beautiful isn’t it?” The voice stopped Wolf cold. He turned to the side and saw the person he dreaded most.

Bruce sat in a chair, just to the side of the gates. A small table with a book and cup of water resting next to him. Wolf just stood there silently, his mouth working like a fish out of water, no words finding their way out.

“There’s so much magic in the forest. An amalgamation of life, chaos, and the unknown.” Bruce sat silently for a moment lost in thought. “Perhaps the only thing more curious is the ocean behind this mountain. Blue as far as the eye can see. Depths unimaginable. Creature that humankind has yet to see.”

Wolf still hasn’t moved. He stood still as a statue. Still waiting for the ax to drop. They both existed in that moment. Like the tree and the storm. They would inevitably cross paths, but for this moment all was calm.

Bruce took his gaze off the forest and turned to glance at Wolf. “I wanted to be an explorer once, when I was very young. My father used to tell me stories of Chevalier the Bold who traveled to unknown lands. Have you ever heard any of his adventures?” Bruce asked, but he continued on without waiting for an answer.

“My favorite was the one of his last. They say he explored so far and wide that there were no corners of the world left to see. He grew listless and sullen, until one day he had an epiphany. Then with renewed vigor he built a magic boat that sailed the skies all the way to the closest moon. There he saw a barren empty place with air so thin you could float. In that desolate landscape sat a small cottage of thatch and stone. Can you believe that? Nothing but darkness and emptiness yet someone had made a home there. So Chevalier went up to the door and knocked, bold as brass he was.”

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Bruce paused. The silence stretched. The air was thick with expectation.

“Chevalier never spoke of what was in that house, all he ever said was that on that day he found hope.” Bruce turned and for the first time made eye contact with Wolf. Wolf gulped as they stared at each other. “I wasn’t sure how I was going to feel when I saw you. Would I be angry? Would I be sad? Do you want to know what I feel now?” Bruce asked. Wolf nodded, still unable to speak.

“Acceptance. This is what the goddess has willed, and as such there is meaning behind it.” Bruce let out a low laugh. “Now mind you, I haven’t yet found the meaning, but I will, in time.” Bruce reached over and took a sip from his cup. “This is an herbal tea that master Zhao makes. It helps calm and clear the mind, you should have him make you a cup some time.”

Wolf didn’t have a response to that, so he just said something that had been sitting on his tongue for months. “I’m sorry.” He finally said. Bruce just nodded. “I accept.” Then Bruce sat there, sipping his tea and staring into the forest. With nothing left to say, Wolf turned and headed back inside. Walking toward the training courtyard and feeling very confused.

“Well look who it is.” Shen was naturally the first to notice him walk in, but as he said something, it felt like everyone turned to look at him. “Did I say it was time for a break?” shouted Master Xian. “Get back to it.” Those who had stopped to stare quickly went back to their forms. Even Shen looked a bit chagrined. Xian walked over and stepped in front of him. “Are you healed?”

Wolf nodded. “Then get the into line and begin.” Xian stepped to the front and continued his lesson. Wolf stumbled to the back of the group as Xian began again. “Now, deep breath in through the nose, and out through the mouth.” Everyone stood on their left leg with the right foot resting on the left knee, both arms clasped together above the head.

Wolf didn’t miss the occasional glare blasted in his direction, but he focused on the breathing exercises and the forms. Classes changed day by day, but today’s class was just what he needed. A centering form with breathing exercise and slow, calm movements. He wondered if Dunrock had known what today was in advance. Either way, it was good practice.

But every good thing must come to an end. “Have you had enough hiding dog?” Shen and his lackey’s made their move the moment class was done. Wolf tried to walk away, but someone stepped in front of him. He turned to go around when someone else stepped in. The first strike connected with the back of his knees, sending him falling. He threw his hands over his head and went into the fetal position, not finding the anger to fight back.

“This is for Bruce.” Was their chant as they kicked him. Xian stepped in after the beating had gone on for a while, dispersing the boys with a word. He then glanced at Wolf and moved on without another word. Wolf limped back to the forge where he powered through his aches and bruises to help around the smithy. Just like that things went back to a kind of normalcy.

The addition of after class beating was not a pleasant one, but Xian never let it go too far. After one such beating, Wolf was limping back to the forge, an extra hard kick to his right thigh causing his leg to seize up. “You look like Buckluck feces,” Bruce said from where he was sitting. Wolf glanced over, and saw the boy sitting by one of the zen gardens with his tea and a new book. Wolf just nodded. “I didn’t ask them to do that to you if that’s what you're thinking. In fact since I was injured they barely speak to me. If you are the pariah, then I am the cast away.” Wolf just nodded. It hadn’t actually crossed his mind that Bruce might have asked them to do the beatings. “Why don’t you fight back anymore?”

“They’re pricks, but it’s easier this way.” Wolf mumbled. “Why don’t they talk to you? I thought they were your friends.”

Bruce chuckled. “We were never friends, Shen has lackey’s and acquaintances. I don’t think he understands what `friend’ means.”

They both sat in silence for a moment. Finally sat in a patch of grass and looked at Bruce. “What will you do now?” Bruce raised an eyebrow “Now? Now that I’m a cripple with no hope of ever cultivating again?”

Wolf didn’t have a response, so he just nodded. Bruce looked up at the sky in pondering. “What you know of cultivation should be the basics even if you haven’t found your own sea. Your sea of qi is located in your danatian, you cultivate to expand upon the size, thus adding to the amount of qi available to you. Then using your bodies’ natural pathways to flow that qi gaining a boost to strength and speed that is more than human. Master Xian mentioned the chakras and meridians to you?”

“Yes,” Wolf answered quickly. He certainly hadn’t told anyone that after all this time he still had no idea what cultivation really was.

“There are three chakras. In your heart, brain, and loins. These are your emotion centers and once you open your first chakra, you will go from a mortal cultivator to an earth cultivator. Most cultivators will never open more than one chakra in their lifetime, so they focus on the heart. The heart is the easiest to open, and is also a great power regulator.”

“Power regulator?” Wolf asked shyly.

“Think of your body's pathways as rivers for your central sea. Your chakras are like a dam that can easily regulate the amount of water that flows to each area. As a mortal cultivator you have to push your qi where it needs to go, once you have a chakra, you only have to release it. Thus it becomes much easier, and less time and effort intensive to do.

Wolf nodded, finally gaining some understanding he had long since been missing. Not that he was sure how that would reflect on his ingot core.

“Then there are seven meridians. There is one in each leg, one in each arm, your chest, your gut, and between your eyes. When you unlock a meridian with the power of nature, earth, wind, fire, or air, you gain some ability associated with that power.”

Bruce paused to watch a bee harvesting an orchid's pollen.

“Think of it as a farm at the end of your river, what you plant there grows into something that you can harvest at a later date. For example if your leg meridians are air based, you could run quieter and faster.”

The silences stretch as they watched a frog jump lily pads in the pond.

“Thank you for explaining that, I’ll be honest, I never really understood it.” Wolf finally spoke.

Bruce just nodded. “Of course, the masters prefer we all walk our own path that isn’t already fully tread. But all this comes back to your original question. What will I do now? I have not stopped cultivating. The training, the exercise, the forms, the stretches, they are just one way to cultivate, there are thousands. I cultivate even now. I stretch the limits of my mind by reading, and comprehending. One day I hope to unlock my brain chakra and even now I’m pushing the seeds into my leg meridians. Once my chakra is opened, and my meridians bear fruit, I will walk again, have no doubt.”

Wolf felt his jaw drop; he had never considered how wild the world of cultivation was. There was no linear path. For the first time he realized the common way wasn't even necessarily the right way. He too could forge his own path.

“Thank you.” Wolf said again. Bruce just smiled. “I would almost thank you as well. If you hadn’t paralyzed me I might have missed the forest for the trees. I just wish perhaps there had been another way.”

Wolf cringed but nodded in agreement before he parted ways.

He was lost in thought as he walked, so when he tripped on the path it was a bit of a surprise. “Looks like it’s time for the dog’s daily beating.” Shen said from behind him. The surprise was lost when he heard that voice and the kicks began.

Wolf curled up into a ball, accepting the beating without a sound. Each strike was transferred into his core. The fire of future retribution burns hot. Bruce was not wrong, there were many ways to cultivate. Fortunately with his arms covering his face they couldn’t see his smile.