The young being walked through the Gardens of Fate dressed in colorful robes of bright, loud colors. They stopped to smell a flower or two with disapproving old women who tended the gardens staring at them. Misumi ignored the women, plucking one flower from a bush and sticking it behind their ear. Walking along the rows of the maze-like garden with its walls of flowers, Misumi looked for the middle of the garden, where Daichi would most likely be.

As they were traveling through the garden, Misumi felt the request from Kentaro to join him in the mortal realm in their meeting place. Misumi ignored it, though. She needed to do this. She knew Daichi wouldn’t go. He had only left the gardens once since Rei had created the Kami, and that was because their father had called them to his side. For everything else, if the Kami wished to see Daichi, they had to go to him in his gardens.

Misumi finally found a turn and walked into the large open garden with the fountain in the middle. Sure enough, Daichi was pointing in the direction they came from. Daichi had his book open, though, and was looking through it. The hefty tome he carried fit in one of his hands. His other hand flicked through the pages.

Misumi grinned and rolled their eyes. “Of course you knew I was coming.”

Daichi looked up now and stared at Misumi from behind the cowl of his robe, giving a nod. “Yes, of course. I knew you were coming. Why wouldn’t I? Even the Kami are written in my book.”

Misumi frowned and nodded. “Yes, I know. That’s why I’ve come here. I need some insight, brother. What in the realms is going on? Kenji lashing out at Genki like that at the meetings. My twin has been,” Misumi trailed off for a moment and thought, “worse lately.”

They stared at Daichi intently now, stressing every word. “This will not do, brother. I have to stop it.”

It was common knowledge that Misumi cared for Minako above all else. Misumi had a job to do in the mortal realm, but their sister always came first. Which, Misumi admitted, was a problem sometimes. Misumi was like Kenji. They didn’t have agents like Lilith did to go out and help them with their work. However, they liked to deal with things themselves. Genki had those dragon cults who somehow stole her mana from the dragons in the mortal realm.

Daichi stared intently at his sibling. Misumi could feel his eyes even though they didn’t see them. “I do not have written anything in my book out of the ordinary for our siblings, Misumi.”

That’s all he said, and Misumi frowned in response, raising a finger and a thumb to their chin in thought. Misumi finally stared expectantly at Daichi. “If you say so.” Misumi somehow did not believe Daichi, though. Something was going on. They just frowned, shook their head, and then poofed in a wave of power.

__________________

Over the next several weeks, Silas got his camp squared away. He cut up some trees that had fallen over and fashioned a small log shack. It had a small fire pit in the corner so he could keep himself warm and fashioned a bit of a chimney on the roof with some stones.

He also made a more significant fire outside and made a spit to cook any game he found and feed himself. Silas could also hang a bucket he had gathered, full of snow, to get water to drink and bathe himself. He could make a nice little area for himself to live in and hopefully keep warm. The next few months were going to be rough. Winter in the south was a mild inconvenience. Winter here in the north could be brutal. Especially with him not living in a proper house or the city.

Silas was currently resting on a gigantic tree that had fallen over at some point. His robes were getting to where he’d have to burn them instead of washing them, and the bearskin cloak he had made himself needed washing. Silas needed supplies. The only thing he could think of was to ask Leo at the whorehouse. Silas groaned a little. Leo, while he was helpful when Silas was in trouble, did not seem like he’d continue to be helpful. Silas also had to give him a substantial bit of meat.

He sat there for a few moments near the fire where he was roasting a deer. It would be several hours before the deer was ready and could be eaten, especially over the open spit in the cold air like this. He held his hands out towards the fire to warm them and then stood up. The wind had just changed, and he got a whiff of the meat, and his stomach growled. He probably could go for a walk. Otherwise, he’d probably eat the deer before it was ready, and then he’d get sick, and that just wouldn’t do.

He stood up and wandered away from his camp toward the Inn. He was trudging through the snow, pulling the bearskin cloak tightly around him, and was thankful he had the idea to make a hat out of the head. With the wind billowing and blowing the snow on the ground, he looked like a crazy old hermit that visited civilization.

Silas smiled to himself and realized that was the current life he was living and would live through winter, at least. One of the significant problems with the Zhangshu was that it was up in the mountains, and the trails got closed due to snow. The city had to make sure it stocked enough food to last the season.

It took him longer than it usually would have because of the wind. He got there eventually, and he worried about his dinner now since the wind was picking up. He would return, and the storm would freeze the food solid. Silas sighed and shook his head. He had some salted cured meat he’d be able to eat if the deer didn’t work out. He looked forward to fresh meat when he could catch and kill something.

Reaching the front door to the Inn, he stepped in and removed the hat from his head. Smiling and bobbing his head to Maisy, the woman who had taken care of him when he was first here. She was kind, funny, and straightforward, which Silas appreciated. He was glad to see her downstairs and was sure she’d be willing to help him again.

“Oh god, not you again, Silas.” Leo was standing behind the bar and shook his head a little. “Did you come to steal more of my healing elixirs? I need those for the girls, and you can’t have them. I might not have enough to last the season.”

Silas smiled broadly, looking at Leo, and gave a bit of a laugh. “No, no, brother. I have come looking for some help, however. Nothing major. I just need some supplies. I have more meat I can give you. There is a wonderful deer that I have. I can give you some meat off of. Surprised myself to see a buck that large strolling around.”

Silas wasn’t the best with a bow, capable enough to kill something standing still, but the little rabbits moved too quickly for him to get a shot off at them. Truthfully, the deer was a small doe. Silas felt bad for killing it and then butchering it. Silas had to eat, and the doe was the only thing he found when he went further into the woods on this trip. Or, well, the only thing he’d be able to kill.

Leo narrowed his eyes and shook his head. “We have plenty of meat. What is it you need, Silas.” Leo didn’t ask. He just demanded what Silas wanted so he could hurry and get this exchange over with. Silas wasn’t a paying customer. Leo was running a business with people over him in his sect he had to deal with if the Inn wasn’t making enough money to keep it open.

Although Silas figured with it being a whore house so close to the city, they shouldn’t have a problem getting money. There was a cliche about city guards visiting the brothels to collect their taxes after all.

Silas raised his hands and dropped the ass-kissing routine. “I only need some soap so I can wash with it. Me and my clothes are getting a little” Silas paused and thought of a polite way to word this “ripe.”

Leo gave Silas a flat look and rolled his eyes. “Where are you staying for the winter, Silas?”

Silas cocked an eyebrow and shrugged a bit, wondering where Leo was headed with this. “I’ve made myself a little camp just a mile or two away in the woods. It has a decent cover, and I’ve cut a bunch of firewood. I should be able to make it, and it has been a while since I’ve been here,” Silas nodded a little.

Leo groaned a little, but then laughed, looking at Silas. It was a cruel laugh, and it jiggled the large man’s entire stomach. Eventually, he ceased laughing to say, “Silas, you will not be surviving the winter in some shack the entire winter.” Leo rubbed a tear from his eye from laughing so hard at Silas.

Silas narrowed his eyes at the man. “Don’t count me out, brother. I’m originally from this area, and I am a fellow cultivator as well. I should be able to do alright.” Silas returned to smiling, leaning against the bar counter.

This was when Maisy finally piped up after taking a drink from a mug, “Oh Leo, stop being such a hardass. It’s just some soap, and we have plenty of it. We need it, after all.” Maisy then laughed, and it wasn’t one of those soft, cute giggles. It was a complete laugh. Silas smiled at her, chuckled with her, and gestured toward her, looking at Leo.

“See there, brother, Maisy gets it,” Silas told Leo, still chuckling.

“What’s your last name, oh great cultivator from around here? I’ve never heard of anyone named Silas,” Leo asked Silas. Leo stood straight up and crossed his arms against his chest, staring hard at the two, who smiled back at him. He seemed to mull it over a little before he finally exhaled loudly and rolled his eyes.

“My name is Silas Zhao, brother cultivator,” Silas said, standing straight. He was a proud man and was asked a direct question about his name and lineage. While his father may now claim he no longer had a son, Zhao was a significant name, and even more so here in Pyanza.

Leo’s eyes went wide, and then he glared at Silas. “Is that so?” he asked him and set the palms on the bar counter. “Well, knowing who you are, I think I know a way we can help each other out. You’ll be around here begging for more than just soap through the winter, or you’ll come here begging for a night out of the cold at least once. You can help me.”

Silas cocked a brow and nodded. “Anything I can do to help, brother, I shall.”

“First, stop calling me brother. I know with you fancier Sacred Artists call everyone brother in some weird show of respect, but it’s annoying,” Leo told him.

Maisy just watched the two, intrigued by what the homeless cultivator could offer Leo, a member of the smallest but probably most prosperous sect in the lands. Taking a drink of her drink, she looked between them, moving a strand of the long red hair from her face with a cocked brow. “Well, if he wants to stay, I will volunteer my room again.”

This made Silas look at her suddenly and blush a moment before forcing himself to look back at Leo, pushing that thought from his mind. “Tell me, Leo, what can I do for you?” Silas made sure not to call him brother, showing he was interested in whatever deal this man might offer him.

“Winter is our slow season, if you can believe it. There aren’t any outsiders, and the city guards get in a lot of trouble if they get caught coming here unless it’s on official business. It’s hard for me to train when there aren’t any customers to throw out,” Leo explained to him. “I don’t know precisely what is wrong with your channels and madra, but I’m more of a physical fighter, anyway.”

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Silas reeled a bit and stared at Leo, unsure of what to say. “Br..” Silas paused for a moment and smiled. “Leo, I don’t think I’d give you much of a challenge. You’ve sensed my spirit, and I’m not quite up to my tip-top fighting shape.”

Leo nodded along. “Yes, yes, I know. Some training might do your body some good. I’ll lower my power level to about what you are, and we can fight fairly. We’ll both be simple body cultivators wrestling. After a good training session, I will give you what you need. If you need something major, win.” Leo grinned at him.

Silas looked to Leo and frowned a moment before giving a soft shrug of his shoulders, “If I hurt myself, you must help me get patched up.”

Leo nodded, “Yes.”

That’s all Leo said before extending his hand to Silas. Maisy sat there wide-eyed, unsure who she would root for here. She seemed to like Silas, but Leo was her employer and benefactor. He smirked, looked at her momentarily, and then winked before reaching out and shaking Leo’s hand.

“You have a deal.” Silas was reasonably sure he’d be able to keep up with this man if they used pure physical skill. Probably. Maybe.

Maisy got up. “You should let Silas wash up today and come back tomorrow for your first training session, Leo. He is a little stinky,” without waiting for his response. She headed up the stairs to find some soap to give Silas.

Leo just looked at Silas for a long moment, slightly annoyed. He finally relented, though, and shrugged. “Whatever. Come back tomorrow and be ready.”

Silas nodded, “absolutely.”

Maisy returned with a small paper-wrapped brick. “This should last you a while, Silas. It probably smells girly since it’s for us, but it’ll keep you and your clothes.”

Silas took the soap and pressed his palms together, bowing lightly to them both. “Thank you both. I swear I will come back tomorrow to help you train. Goodbye Leo, Maisy.” He gave her a nod before turning and exiting the Inn, grabbing the bear hat he had put on the bar counter when he first talked to Leo.

Stepping outside, he shivered and put the hat on. He was pulling it right down as far as he could over his eyes, the bear’s snout rocking a little, ending up just over his eyes. Tightening all of his robes as close as he could to him, he headed off for his camp. Looking off in the distance, east, where the wind was coming from, he saw the clouds forming. It had gotten colder since he had been in the Inn.

“Damn,” he muttered, shaking his head and trying to move as quickly as he could through the wind and cold to his camp. A storm was coming, and as snowy as it was, this would be the first actual storm he’d have to weather in his shack. He wasn’t looking forward to seeing what had happened to his dinner by the time he got back.

It took him even longer to return to his camp than it did to the Inn. Slumping through mounds of snow, he was thankful he already had a decent set of boots before he set out on this journey. He needed them since he was left stranded in the north for the winter. It was getting bitterly cold, so he tried to hurry. He had to walk with his hands in his armpits and scolded himself that he had never thought of getting or making gloves.

Finally reaching his camp once more, he first wanted to check on the meat he had left roasting. He didn’t even see the fire in the pit as he approached. He had built it nice and big before he left, but he didn’t expect a storm to roll in. When he finally got there, he saw that, sure enough, the fire was gone, and the deer meat hung there on the spit, practically frozen. Silas frowned and thanked the gods for the dried boar meat he had.

He set about taking down the deer carcass from the spit and buried it in the snow next to the shack with it still tied up. It was already mostly frozen, and with the storm coming, it would be completely frozen. He’d have to figure out a way to defrost it before he could cook it. One thing Silas did not want was to get sick from improperly cooked meat. Food poisoning could be a hell of a thing.

With that taken care of, Silas headed into the shack, closing the door as tight as he could. It was, in every way, a shack. It had four walls and was just big enough for a bed made of leaves and blankets from the Inn. Across from that, there was a simple fireplace. Luckily, Silas could build it with enough ventilation so he wouldn’t suffocate while sleeping.

He set about making the fire and had some flint and firewood already in the little pit. It took him a few minutes of struggling with the cold for everything to light. Still, eventually, after enough tries, he could soothe and coax out a small fire so he didn’t freeze to death while he slept. Letting the warm fire grow and warm up the shack as much as it could. He took off the cloak and fell into the bed, the hat falling and rolling off of him.

He used the cloak as a blanket and wrapped it as tightly as possible over him with his traditional robes and clothing. It didn’t take him long, but he could keep himself warm enough to fall asleep.

He slept fitfully through the night, tossing and turning and shivering, trying to keep himself warm. At one point, he had to venture into the cold, wrapping the cloak around himself again to use the tree he marked for waste. Standing there, he felt a warmth go through his body as he took care of his business and then returned to the shack, still shivering. Once he got back in it, he grabbed a few more pieces of firewood he had chopped. He threw it on the fire so it didn’t burn out while he tried to sleep the rest of the night.

Finally, as he lay there looking at the ceiling of his shack, a sort of darkness swept over him. He didn’t sleep, but he was definitely out of it. He had some kind of paralysis overtake him. He couldn’t see anything, but he was wide-eyed. His body was stiff, so he couldn’t move. Then the forms took shape. They couldn’t be anything from this realm. He couldn’t even describe what he saw if he were to be asked. Silas tried to take it head-on, but the power he felt around him was, in a word, incredible.

Silas suddenly felt tiny. Like a child who had just formed his core. His mind reeled back to the day overlooking the sea when he and Kio walked Reiko through creating his core, and he broke. Losing it all, the potential, all because he failed the village he was devoted to protecting. Then a form gathered in the shadows, not of Reiko, but a female form.

“No…” Silas muttered to himself, tears growing in his eyes.

Her long black hair pulled back into that bun so she could keep it out of her eyes while she worked in her gardens. Her bright green eyes looked down at Silas, and she smiled at him a moment, but only for a moment. The smile then turned into a frown quickly.

“No, Himari. I’m sorry!” He cried out.

The frown was gone as well. The darkness seemed to melt away. What formed from the puddle of ooze was something else entirely. Silas knew that form too well. It still haunted his dreams at night. Silas had seen the form of that thing when he first left Kyoto, that demon thing. It replaced her, but he saw her in this creature now. Like she was a part of it somehow.

To begin with, it was bad enough that he lost Himari, and now to be tortured like this? Silas lost it now, crying uncontrollably. Sobbing. He curled into a ball. It seemed to go on forever until finally. It wasn’t. New darkness washed him over and was no longer conscious.

Morning came, and Silas woke when the sun beat through the cracks in his shack. He groaned, having a brief memory of the events through the night. Silas remembered going to urinate and then something. He remembered being haunted and sobbing. He stopped himself. Now he remembered. He couldn’t let it happen again. He had to be a man of action, not sadness. Himari had to be saved. Sitting in his shack and crying would solve nothing.

Fighting to get up and out of bed, he felt sluggish. It weighed him down by more than the usual things. He could sit up and lean against the wall, still in his bed. Silas closed his eyes and began sensing his madra channels now. The first time he had done so in a while, he was usually too scared to see how far the damage had gotten, but he had to. It was difficult even moving right now, and he had to clean himself up and head back to the Inn as long as the storm was over.

His channels were worse than he remembered. Whatever effects The Three Treasure Rotation pill had had, they were long gone. They were clogged with this black ooze, his own gray madra less and less. He had to rely on pure physical strength now. Not that he couldn’t. He was a relatively powerful man without cultivation and the sacred arts. Just cultivators relied on their power to help them along with things. He kept sensing along his channels, tracing them back to his core. Once feeling it, he opened his eyes wide suddenly.

“No.” The oozy stuff was worse in his channels, but how long had it been in his core? He had kept it from there, the wellspring of his power.

Silas groaned to himself and stood. He would have to figure this out, and the sooner, the better. Silas didn’t like this feeling, the sluggishness running through his body. If he barely felt like a Sacred Artist before, he did not feel like one now. After thirty-some years of being a cultivator, he no longer had it. So this is what it was like being an older man without power.

That still wasn’t quite right. He did, of course, still have power, and you couldn’t count his experience out. Silas gave him a little pep talk mentally. He could solve these problems quickly, he told himself. It’d be a challenge, but it’ll be fun. He kept telling things like this to himself as he checked on the little fire pit in his shack. It was dying out, but he shrugged and figured he’d be out all day, anyway. Leaving the shed, he grabbed a large bucket sitting by the door. He scooped as much snow in it as he could carry and then hung it on the spit over the fire.

Lighting this bigger fire took a bit more patience than the smaller one inside. Especially since it was buried in snow from the storm the night before, which had, thankfully, moved on. Eventually, he got it lit and got his morning chores done. He went about melting the snow, washed the robes he had been wearing, and hung them over the fire to dry. Standing in his spare set now, which, admittedly, was dirty, but nowhere near as much as the ones he was wearing. He’d have to wait to clean the bear cloak until it was warmer, or he had something different to wear.

Eventually, after finishing his chores, he had some dried bore meat and headed off to the Inn. He was walking through the denser woods when it opened up to the road and the Inn a little off the road. Considering the storm was so heavy last night, he was thankful it was nice out now. It was still bitterly cold, but it was nice. Friendly, clear skies and the sun were shining. As he walked, he let his mind wander, and Silas thought of the night before the images he had seen.

When he had gotten to the Inn, he found Leo sitting out front on the porch between a couple of wooden rocking chairs. They were turned upside down so they wouldn’t collect snow. He was sitting in a lotus pose and cultivating the surrounding aura. It surprised Silas the large man could sit in such a pose with his belly and mentally applauded him. This wrestling match would be more challenging than Silas had initially thought.

“There are a couple of customers inside,” Leo explained to Silas and opened one of his eyes. “The aura has a little extra something in it for me, for my path when there are customers.” Leo then smirked and opened both of his eyes.

Silas lifted his eyebrows. These Moon Lotus Pavilion had some odd thoughts about their cultivation practices. In Silas’s experience, the aura was the surrounding aura, no matter what was going on. Still, they believed sex and food, and excess would strengthen them in their power, so who was Silas to judge?

“Come, we’ll fight here. The porch should be big enough for us,” Leo told him as he climbed to his feet.

Indeed, the porch had a circle of a good size on it, enough room for them to maneuver and train without getting thrown off into the snow. Leo had already removed his outer and inner robes. Leo now stood there only wearing his pants. The man was fatter than Silas had initially thought, but bulky as well. His large hairy stomach even glossed, like he had oiled himself down in preparation.

“We’re going to do this in only our pants? Isn’t it a little cold?” Silas asked Leo apprehensively.

Leo just grinned and nodded. “Get in here, and we’ll keep warm by training.” Silas kind of shrugged and followed suit. He removed everything, even his boots, then stepped inside the circle. The two of them looked at each other. Leo looked determined, and Silas was unsure how this would go. Still, they both pressed their palms together and gave each other a bow. Before Silas was even back upright, the larger man had charged him, shocking Silas at how fast and agile the man was. Silas recovered quickly and gave a halfhearted charge in return, their bodies slapping into each other as they grappled.