Chapter 33

The hoe rose. The hoe fell. It tilled the earth, and it weeded the crops. In the hands of an expert, it was a symbol of many things, but mostly it was a symbol of farming.

Of cultivating the land.

For an earth cultivator, was there any better symbol?

Tremble held the gift his master had given him. It was a simple thing, at first. Tren Shen had simply walked into the nearby village and bought the iron part of the weapon from the blacksmith, and then shaped the wooden handle himself with a piece of wood and a knife. It had taken him no more than an hour, talking about what he was doing absently while he worked.

As his student, Tremble struggled to remember every word. His mind was strong, but there was simply so much wisdom to unpack from the seemingly simple statements that came forth from Tren Shen like water from a spring.

He remembered the shaping of the wooden shaft, and the words that were spoken when Tren had fastened the iron hoe head. He was doing more than explaining what he was doing to Tremble. He was explaining what he was doing to the hoe . Giving the tool its purpose by teaching it its shape and the reason for its shape. Teaching Tremble, and the hoe, what it was for.

Then, when that was finished, he had imbued it with a staggering amount of Qi and intent. Where that Qi had gone, Tremble could not say at first. Tren had simply grinned at him when he had asked. Then he had set Tremble to work in the fields with his new tool.

“This is your tusk,” Tren had told him. “It is with your tusks that the world has shaped you, and it is with your tusk that you shape the world.”

Tremble had grumbled as he’d worked those first few weeks, but he did not grumble any more. Now, he enjoyed watching the sprouting crops as they reached towards the sun. He enjoyed the endless job of weeding and watching for pests.

The hoe rose. The hoe fell. It tilled the earth and weeded the crops. It disturbed a mouse, which ran through the field away from the spirit-boar in the shape of a man. Tremble watched the little rodent flee, then blinked when the shadow passed over him and, moving so fast that it was difficult to see, the falcon snatched up its prey and flew off into the distance.

Tremble shook his head and went back to work. That was simply how life was.

In the sky, Freedom snapped the mouse’s neck with his talons. Landing in a tree nearby, he feasted. The spirit falcon looked to the sun, and it drew in the Qi of the sun, and it contemplated the sun and the difference between the night and the day.

It knew of Mouser, the spirit owl. It had tried to speak with her, but he could not find her during the day, and when he tried to search for her during the night he found himself clumsy and unable to see. He was not a creature of the night, but he wished to know Mouser. She was like him, and she was different than him.

He remembered the teachings of Wensho, the great woman who had helped him in the days after his awakening. Of yin and yang. He was a creature of Yang, and Mouser was a creature of Yin. But that did not mean that they could not be friends. She shared his natural form, and Freedom wished to know of her path so that the moon could light his own path, as he wished to be the sun to light the path of Mouser.

Had he been a human, he might have been embarrassed of this unrequited affection. But he had only been aware of himself in a higher sense for a few months, and his affection was honest and heartfelt. He had tried to communicate it to Lady Wensho so that she might convey it to Mouser, but the woman had simply smiled.

“That is something you must tell her yourself, Freedom. If your feelings are genuine, then you will find a way to express yourself. I’m quite certain of it,” she had told the young spirit animal.

Freedom preened and cleaned its feathers, which were vibrant and healthy. He had always been a prime specimen of his species, but since he had become aware he had molted, and his new feathers made him even more beautiful.

Once it had finished eating and cleaning itself after the meal, he flew once more, scanning the earth for signs of anything that did not belong. He had vowed to defend the Shen farm in exchange for the insights that the cultivators there could share with him, and he took his duty very seriously.

If it saw another mouse or non-spirit rabbit while it was defending the vast territory that it claimed, then, well, everything needs to eat.

A flicker of movement in the distance, and Freedom looked closer. It jerked in recognition as it spotted the young master and the three other children returning. It spotted something clinging to the young master’s shoulder, a draconic blue creature with a beak. They were miles off yet, but with a “Screeee!” Freedom the falcon announced the young master’s return.

Everyone who heard that screech knew what it meant, for it was filled with Freedom’s intent and Qi.

In the field, Tren Shen cocked his head and closed his eyes, then nodded. “They made good time,” he commented. He turned back to Tremble. “I’m going to go welcome home my son. Do you mind finishing up this field?”

“It would be my honor,” Tremble said earnestly, pleased that the Lord of the farm trusted him so deeply after his initial awkwardness.

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“Your insight into the growing of things is growing, Tremble, do not forget the larger picture. Do not mistake the trees for the forest or the mountains for the range,” Tren said, slinging his own hoe over his shoulder and striding away.

Tremble committed the words to memory, spending the rest of the day contemplating them as he worked tirelessly in the field.

Tren was halfway back to the manor house when little Safron came bounding out. “Tan is coming back today, isn’t he? Isn’t he?” the little girl demanded.

“It seems that way,” Tren admitted.

“Do you think he got me a present?”

“He’s sure to regret it if he didn’t,” Tren said, scooping the girl up and setting her on her shoulder. “How was your cultivation today?”

“Boring. It’s always so boring. And there’s something … weird. Right here. It doesn’t work right,” the girl said, touching her side.

“I see. When did you notice that?”

“I dunno. But it’s itching now,” she said.

“Does it hurt?”

“No, it itches.”

“Tomorrow we’re going back to the healers,” Tren said suddenly.

“Is there something wrong with me?”

“No, sweetie, your perfect. But if you want to be as strong as Tan someday, then we need to fix the itchiness,” Tren explained.

“Kay.”

Wensho emerged from the manor moments later, wiping her hands upon her apron as she walked towards where the road joined the Shen farm. They waited patiently.

Two of them waited patiently. One of them was bouncing impatiently on her father’s shoulders. “When are they going to get here?” Safron demanded.

“Any minute,” Tren said. “Be patient.”

Abruptly, a flying boy appeared in the sky, swooping down to land before his family. He grinned, standing in the dust that his landing kicked up, and scratched his nose. On his shoulder sat a baby Qi guardian that had taken the shape of a dragon.

“Hey mom, dad, Safron. This is Key,” he said, patting the little draconid. It was still small, but larger than it had been at the sect, nearly the size of a newborn puppy.

“I’m very much looking forward to the story of how you earned a Qi guardian,” Wensho said.

“There’s nothing much to it,” Tan admitted. “But yeah, I can’t wait to tell you all about it. Oh, before I forget, Safron, you don’t even have to ask. Yes I got you a present.”

He pulled a doll out of his storage ring and handed it to his younger sister. It had red hair and was dressed in the gi of the Whispering Guides sect. The little girl snatched it up and hugged her brother.

“I missed you,” she said.

Tan hugged her back. “I missed you too, Safron.”

Then she kicked him in the shin for no reason and ran inside to put the doll with the rest of her collection. He winced and limped a bit, although she hadn’t really hurt him.

“Anyway, now that she’s gone, I have a few things to tell you guys,” Tan said, his voice turning more serious. He pulled his necklace out of his shirt and showed off the imperial token to his parents. “We each earned one of these, and I need to tell you how.”

“Of course,” Tren said. “But it can wait until you and the others have had a meal and a bath, I think. I know better than you think what that means, Tan. You’re a man now, in some ways, and still a boy in others, but you’re our son before any of that. We’re proud of you, but we would have been just as proud if you had fled the bandits instead of standing your ground and earning this.”

“You know already?” Tan asked, his eyebrows raising.

“Word travels fast,” Wensho said. “But your father is right. I hear the others catching up, let’s greet them and then get all of you settled. Then I’ll ask Clover to distract Safron for a while, and you can tell us about your trials and tribulations.”

Tan nodded. Then he said “Oh, before I forget,” and he raised his hand. Hoten was abruptly ejected from his storage ring.

The young man sputtered and looked around, taking a moment to realize what happened.

“This unfilial swine tried to get out of his duties. He said that his cultivation momentum was more important and tried to buy us off with coin to leave him alone.” Tan said, kicking the man in disgust. “We might be in a bit of trouble since we sort of kidnapped him. I’m not sure, we didn’t stick around to figure things out.”

“You did the right thing,” Wensho said. She stooped down to Hoten, who had realized that he had somehow been transported thousands of miles back to the Shen farm but was still trying to process how that had happened. “Let me heal your face, Hoten, and then go visit your family. If you don’t, then I’ll shatter your cultivation and leave you crippled. Your mother deserves to see your worthless face one last time.”

Hoten opened his mouth to defend himself, then hung his head in shame, defeated, as Wensho did as she said she would.

She didn’t heal the rest of him, however, and so with a clear face he limped along the road back to the village of his birth.

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