73. Growth

The boy, his rump still stinging from his punishment, was hiding his shame out in the fields near the gathering array when he saw the cultivator arrive. He blinked, sure that he was imagining things, but the young man was flying through the sky at an unbelievable speed.

The boy watched as he landed nearby. He looked around, inhaled deeply, and smiled.

“Just like home,” the cultivator said. He turned, and the boy realized that hiding behind a rock wasn’t enough to hide him. The cultivator knew that the boy was there.

“Come out. I shan’t hurt you,” the cultivator said to the boy, and while it wasn’t phrased harshly, the boy knew better than to disobey an order from a cultivator. He stepped out from behind the rock and kowtowed.

“Greetings Master Cultivator,” the boy said. “How might this one serve?”

“What is this one’s name?” the cultivator asked.

“This one is called TooRah,” the boy answered. He blushed. “It means something like ‘whoops another one.’ My family is large and my father had a sense of humor.”

The cultivator laughed. “Well, do you know what my name is?” the cultivator asked.

“If you are very famous I might have heard of you, but I do not recognize you on sight,” Toorah admitted.

“My name is Little Bug. Or that is what it means in my native tongue at least. There is a story behind that name, but I shan’t bore you with it right now. Tell me, might I hire some laborers from your village? I have fifty silver coins and I need help constructing an array nearby.”

“Yes!” the boy shouted. “Yes, we would be eager to help the master Little Bug! I will go get the alderman and he will negotiate the price for our labors.”

“Very well. And Toorah? When you have fetched the alderman, come back to me as well. I sense a potential inside you and I wish to teach you to cultivate.”

Toorah blinked in shocked, then he nodded nervously. “Y-Yes master cultivator! I shall struggle to take your lessons to heart!”

The cultivator sat down next to the gathering array, crossing his legs and his arms as he waited for the boy to complete his errand. Toorah, meanwhile, ran straight to the alderman to report what he had seen. It took him an hour to convince the old man that he wasn’t exaggerating or lying, but eventually he returned to find Little Bug exactly where the boy had left him.

“Forgive me, master cultivator, but I do not recognize the insignia of our local sect upon your clothing,” the alderman stated.

“That is because I am not a member of that sect,” the cultivator said. “I was a member of the Six Mountain Sect for a time, but now I am a rogue cultivator. Do not worry, I do not come to make problems for your people. I wish to construct an array for my personal cultivation over here, you see. It will bring prosperity to your own village as well, I assure you.”

The alderman bowed apologetically. “I am sorry, but without the permission of the sect, I am afraid that I cannot help you.”

The cultivator nodded. Then, to TooRah’s amazement, the cultivator stood up, while still sitting down. Two of the cultivators stood before him now.

“I shall accompany you or your messenger to the sect in order to obtain permission,” the one who had stood up said calmly.

“And I shall remain behind to teach the youths of this village how to cultivate,” the other cultivator said.

The alderman swallowed. “If that is your wish. Perhaps we might be able to begin the work of gathering the materials for your array before obtaining permission for it’s construction?”

“That is a wonderful idea. Yes. I shall give you ten silver coins now for the purpose, will that be sufficient?”

“Come with me,” the alderman said. “I will call the village together to begin this project of yours.”

“Yes,” the cultivator who had agreed to go with him said, following him back to the village.

“TooRah, go gather your friends. Anyone and everyone below the age of fifteen,” the Little Bug who remained sitting said. “I wish to measure their aptitude for my teachings.”

“Yes!” Toorah said, and he sprinted off to follow his instructions from the master cultivator.

~~~~~~

As I retaught Toorah and his friends how to breathe, I was also walking through a forest. I paused to pick up a flag that I had placed years ago. It seems that nobody had ever bothered to come and investigate it in the aftermath of the disastrous and profitable encounter I had with the peach tree.

It must have simply been forgotten in the excitement, I thought, as I traced the signal to the other markers.

Jumper landed on a nearby branch and began singing. Her voice was growing truly beautiful, even if she was now larger than she’d ever been.

I sang back with her the longs of learning that I had learned when I was but a toddler, being bounced on my mother’s knee.

“Two and two is four, and four and four is eight.

Mother washes the floor, and father checks the gate.

Sister runs with the boys,

and brother plays with toys.

Little bug is all alone,

But walks the world to atone.

Little Bug has many friends

And he will walk with them to the ends

of this world, where the dragons lie

And bring it forth shining into the sky.”

I smiled at the modifications I had made to the simple song, then picked from my pocket a peach pit. I had carried it for so long. I didn’t remember whether this was my true body or yet another avatar, but I knew for certain that I had a purpose in coming back here.

I walked through the forest where I had almost died once. I stepped over the moss where my blood had fallen, where the fight between children had turned serious and almost deadly.

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I had checked the sect nearby before coming to the forest and found the buildings abandoned. The ancient halls of the Six Mountain Sect were empty, and this forest was devoid of the sounds of insects and birds. Only Jumper defied the silence with me.

Singing, we walked to the clearing where the peach tree had been. Where I’d had the Peach Blossom Dream. And what I saw made me cry.

They had chopped it down.

I sat on the stump of the spiritual tree, running my hands over the naked wood. I felt a moment of anger, and I let it go. But I held on to the sorrow, for I had lost a friend, and though it was painful, I refused to simply let it go.

“I am sorry. This happened because I revealed you to the sect,” I said to the corpse of the tree which had helped me once without asking for anything in return. “I tried to keep my promise to repay you. But I have only this one pit left.”

I pulled out the peach pit and placed it on the stump. “This is your mother,” I told the nascent spirit of the pit.

“Grow?” it asked. “Time to grow?”

“Yes, little one,” I answered. “It is time to grow.”

I picked the pit up and placed it in the soil nearby. Immediately, a sprout emerged from where I buried it, and within moments a sapling stood nearby.

I watched for an hour as it continued growing, before closing my eyes and letting go of this avatar. It puffed into mist, and Jumper looked at the place where I had vanished.

After a moment, Jumper jumped into the air and began flying south.

~~~~~~

Di Ram stood atop the tower of Resh Fali’s ramparts, staring out at the ruined wasteland that stood between the south and the north. The hordes of undead had yet to arrive, but the scouts reports had come in.

In six days, Resh Fali would fall.

He closed his eyes and reframed the thought.

In six days, he would die in the defense of Resh Fali.

He grinned.

No, in eight days he would die, for he would not go meekly.

The thought troubled him less than he’d thought it would. Death, now that he saw the specter looming before him, was not so terrifying as he’d thought it might be.

The army knew that Resh Fali was lost as certain as he did, and the volunteers who were remaining behind to ensure that the refugees had time to rush further south were saying their final farewells to family and friends.

Di Ram had sent his wife south. He had sent Po Sana south, though the stubborn widow was determined to stay by his side. She had sent her children ahead, and he would convince her tonight to make the journey himself. He respected her service and her dedication, but there was no need for her to die horribly simply to bring him comfort.

“This is a moment,” a voice said to him from behind. Di Ram turned, astonished, for he hadn’t sensed anyone approaching, “It is a place in time when the threads of fate split in two directions. One leads to happiness for you and for Po Sana and even your first wife. The other leads to you dying alone and sorrowful in the battlefield you see before you, surrounded by the guts and the blood of mortals and juniors.”

“Little Bug?” Di Ram demanded of the young man without a presence. He nodded. “It is you. You are looking well. I hope that you are well.”

“I called you elder once,” Little Bug continued. “But you are my junior now. Take a little advice from an old soul. Take what happiness you can find.”

“My happiness cannot come before the lives of my subjects,” Di Ram argued. “I have picked up this mantle that has been thrust upon me, and though it weighs heavily upon my soul I will not place it on the shoulders of another. Not even you. Po Sana is—”

“She is grieving and in desperation for comfort,” Little Bug said. “I cannot bring her comfort the way that you can, or I would appear to her like this as well. But you can. Take her as your second wife, Di Ram. That is the thread that leads to happiness.”

Di Ram blinked in surprise, for he’d never once considered such a thing. Po Sana was beautiful, for a mortal, but she was also … his eyes narrowed. “You would have me become your step father?”

“I can think of nobody better for the position,” Little Bug said. “But I will not command your heart. If you do not feel for my mother the way that—”

“I will consider this course of action carefully, thank you, Elder,” Di Ram said, feeling strange to thrust such a title on a teenager. “I would hear your council on the state of the war. Your formations were a godsend, and they have held the hordes back for months, but they have begun to have a lessened effect. Elite enemies have begun to sneak into our fortresses and cause havoc. Is there anything we can do to strengthen—”

“This is not the sort of enemy that can be defeated with passivity. Should I tell you how to strengthen the wards and you hide within your walls, what next? What happens when the food runs out and your people grow hungry?”

Di Ram nodded, conceding that they were in an untenable position. “So then, how do we win this war?”

“Stop thinking of it as a war,” Little Bug said. “It is something else.

“What is it then?”

“When Ko Ren and the other elders thought that I was possessed by a demon, they inadvertently opened a door into another realm. They reached out to the ones who were seeking me, and a demon reached back. It is that demon that poisons the world and raises the dead.”

Little bug paused for effect. He smiled sadly.

“This isn’t a war, Di Ram. It is an exorcism.”

Di Ram frowned at the boy-elder’s words. Then he gave them careful consideration.

And gradually, his entire understanding of the conflict began to change.

“The scope of what we would need to accomplish to set things right—” he began.

“I have already begun,” Little Bug said. “I have not been idle while my apprentices and my people have fought in my stead. I need two weeks. Can Resh Fali hold for two weeks, Elder Di Ram?”

Di Ram was silent.

“Resh Fali will stand against the dying of the light until the last breath of the last brave soul leaves his breast,” Di Ram said. “If you need two weeks, then I shall purchase you three, just to be sure.”

Little Bug was silent. “Your father would be proud of you.”

The avatar vanished.

Di Ram looked to the ring on his finger. It had been a gift from his father. If he channeled Qi into it just so, it turned into a spear which possessed the determination and understanding of his father’s spear techniques. It was a deadly weapon that had served Di Ram well throughout his career as a Silver Path Elder.

But that had been before he’d stepped onto the golden path. Now, he wore it out of sentimentality. But it might serve one last purpose.

With a wave of sorrow, he shattered the artifact.

And absorbed the knowledge and intent contained within.

He cursed his decision immediately, for the depth of the knowledge that his father had hidden in this little ring was so profound that it would take him days to process. He needed the knowledge before fighting on the front lines, and he also needed to issue the instructions to his followers, and he also needed to speak with Po Sana to see if there was any merit or possibility behind Little Bug’s suggestion.

There was so much to do, but only one of him. He had not managed to unlock the knack of dao avatars quite yet; he was most certainly a junior as far as Golden Path cultivators went, and as he contemplated what to do, he felt himself being pulled in three directions at once. If he could only.

He made a decision and stood up, forsaking the knowledge remaining in the ring.

He sat still, carefully absorbing and listening to the wisdom of his father.

He blinked, looking at himself in shock as he realized what he had just done.

“My first Dao Avatar,” he said simultaneously. Then he bowed to himself and went his separate ways.

He wondered which version of himself was true. Then he realized that was a silly question.

They both were.

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