She stood in the wreckage of her village, the young girl maybe ten years old. She had almond eyes and long black hair cut perfectly straight at her shoulder and above her eyes. They razed the village to the ground, and she only survived because her parents hid her in their basement. Few of the houses had basements, and the only reason theirs did was that this little girl showed promise as a young budding Sacred Artist. They wanted to give her somewhere private to train and practice.

She did indeed show some promise, but she was still relatively young. She could grow her core only because of a wandering cultivator, one of the wandering monkeys. It was small and unrefined, but she had it. The monkey who had shown her how to do it wasn’t particularly powerful himself. He knew enough and took the young girl’s parents' money to help her, so he did what he could.

She looked around the village now. Nothing was left. It was all gone. Bodies lay everywhere, bodies of people she knew. Villagers that were family or close enough to be considered family. That’s how it was in small villages. After all, everyone knew each other and helped each other with their problems, and they survived the seasons together and grew close.

Now they are all gone. Her eyes filled with tears as she walked along the streets, seeing the carnage she missed. There were a few bodies of the people who had attacked. They wore Sacred Arts robes that were a deep violet with a teal inner color. They were all from the same sect, but the young girl had no idea which of them it could be. She didn’t know enough of the different sects.

She frowned. Sacred Artists rarely attacked small villages, did they? Of course, she had only a few run-ins with cultivators. The one who helped her develop her core, and a couple of other random travelers who passed through. She frowned slightly and looked up and around the village once more. Kio looked to see where the remains of her house were. She didn’t dare go inside it. She couldn’t bear to see her parents in it. The house crumbled around their bodies. The doors to the basement made her miss the sight. She couldn’t even open the door that would have led right to the house’s main living room from the basement.

She stopped a moment and stared. Tears were running down her face now as she thought of their bodies in it. She wanted to see them, to make sure they weren’t alive there, and she could have helped them. Against her better judgment, she walked towards the house when she felt a hand grasp her shoulder from behind.

“No, no, youngling. I do not think you want to go back there.”

She froze when the hand grabbed her shoulder. The voice sounded like an old man, kind and had a sweetness to it. He almost sounded as if he could be her own grandfather. Her almond eyes looked up at him and saw what she expected. An old man’s weathered face and wrinkled gray eyes, and a long gray beard coming from his chin. He wore faded robes that could have either been once pure white and were just dirtied so badly. Or they could have been a dark gray that had just faded from the sun. He wore a conical hat the farmers typically wore when tending the crops.

The young girl wasn’t sure what to do now. Was this man a slaver? Did he belong to the group of Sacred Artists who destroyed her village? Her first guess seemed wrong. This old man had kind eyes and was smiling down at her. No ill will was clear on this man’s face or meaning. In fact, she felt the opposite coming from him. He felt like she wouldn’t want to use the word, but he felt like a sort of home. Like the comfort, and someone she has known her entire life.

“Have no fear, little Kio. I am here to help you,” He chuckled before he sighed and frowned. “I am sorry I am so late.” He looked at her sadly, but eventually forced a smile.

She stared at the man for several long moments, thinking of what she should do before she decided. She moved her shoulder, snapping his grasp, and ran from him. Her name, he knew her name?

Whoever he was, the fact he showed up so shortly after her village was massacred and that he knew her name was unsettling. He couldn’t be a good guy, so she ran. She made it most of the way down the street, using what madra she had to help her move as quickly as possible.

The old man laughed softly, with no menace in his voice, but like a grandfather who unknowingly got involved in a game of tag. She felt herself slowing, but not because of anything she was doing. She looked back at him, and he was simply smiling at her. His eyes seemed a little brighter than they were before. Her legs ran as fast as they could, but she was still in the same place.

The old man sauntered towards the girl who had given up running from him since she couldn’t leave him. She simply turned and stared at him, walking towards her with that same kind smile. When the old man got to her, he clasped her shoulder again and looked down at her with a smile, like she was his favored granddaughter. He had a staff now and was walking with it slowly. The staff was plain wood with a clear gem on top and wood carved around it to hold it in place.

“Kio, would you like to be a Sacred Artist? I see you have a core, as little as it may be. You’re still young. We can definitely improve that,” he spoke to her fondly and nodded. “The man who taught you how to form your core did good enough to give you a start, but he taught you sloppiness. We can fix this if you’d like.”

Kio narrowed her eyes at him and gave him one firm, quick nod. The old man smiled and nodded.

“Good, I thought that’s what you’d say. That means you’ll come to my village and we’ll find someone to train you. Maybe we’ll send you….” the old man brought his staff close to him and furrowed his brow in thought.

The young girl, Kio, looked up at him with a cocked brow, wondering what he was babbling about. She had nothing here in the village anymore, and this old man was promising to get her trained in the sacred arts, so the choice seemed obvious. Either way, she wasn’t running away anymore. She cocked her head and stood there with her arms at her sides.

“Alright then, let’s go.” The old man put his hand on her shoulder and looked down at her. “There’s nothing else you want to do, is there?”

Kio looked at the house she had lived in, and the old man made a noise like he was clearing his throat.

“I do not recommend it, but we can go if you’d like,” was all he would say to her. “It is quite gruesome in there.”

She looked back at him and gave him a determined look. “Who were these people?”

The old man made a soft humming noise as he thought about it.

“They’re a sect, something about dragons. I don’t remember the exact name. It doesn’t matter. They worship the dragons basically, and they aren’t outstanding Sacred Artists. They’ll do anything to find the dragons. Someone in the village must have had some information.” The old man explained to Kio, looking down at her, frowning.

“If you want to get some sort of revenge, following me and doing as I say is probably the best,” he continued, nodding his head.

“Then,” Kio gave him a look of determination, “let’s go.”

The old man didn’t need any further instruction. He clasped her shoulder once more, and then a bright white light enveloped them, and Kio felt a tugging motion as they were pulled through space.

______________________

It was early morning, and she sat on a stool milking a cow. The cows’ udders were warm, and she worked them, spraying the milk into a bucket set underneath the cow. She had been working here on this farm for about a month since she first met that old man. When he first brought her here, he promised she would learn the Sacred Arts and how to be a cultivator. So far, all she learned was how to work on a farm. Since he had dropped her off here, she hadn’t seen the man again.

She was currently staying with an older couple who had no children. They were kind enough, but they worked her like free labor. Some teenage boys also worked the farm, but they didn’t seem to have to work as long as she did. They worked as hard, though. They got paid a stipend from the old couple who owned the farm, so it made sense.

She still tried cultivating every morning and night before she went to bed. Using the techniques that wandering sacred artists first showed her. Pulling in water aura and cycling it to her core. She could feel her core getting more prominent, but this was all she could do. She hadn’t learned how to fight, not properly. Sometimes a brawl would break out with the boys, and she’d get involved in scrapping, punching, and kicking whatever she could. More often than not, she got beat worse than she gave, but that didn’t stop her from trying.

One morning, one of the other boys came to her while she was feeding the chickens, which came after the milking of the cows and before breakfast.

“Why do you fight in the brawls?” The boy had bright green eyes. He was too young to be one of the boys the old couple paid to work, and she didn’t see him around much. He must have been some orphan boy that the couple took in.

Kio looked at him quizzically and stared at him. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“You… you’re a girl, and you’re so pretty.” The boy went wide-eyed and then ran off from her.

She never noticed much, but after that little boy said something, she seemed to get glances from the older boys staring at her. She even heard a fight between two older boys who were paid to work on the farm. One of them yelled that she was a young girl. Kio stared into space when she heard it and wondered if they were talking about her?

None of the boys did much other than give her passing glances. Mainly because a day or two later, she saw the boy who didn’t yell about her being young get kicked off the farm from the old woman.

This was her routine, day in and day out, and eventually. She was just thankful she had a place to live and stay, warm food in her belly, and a bed to sleep in. Then one morning, while she was milking the cows, she saw an old man walking towards the barn. He had a staff and a white crystal glowing softly in the morning light. Kio perked and looked at the man, watching him advance. When he finally got next to her, she could only look up at him with a frown. His warm smile weakened a moment, only a moment before it returned.

“Come now, Kio, don’t look at me like that. I had to get things ready.” He even laughed softly at her when he spoke, looking at her with his soft eyes.

“You told me I would learn Sacred Arts, how to cultivate. Instead, I’ve been learning all about working on farms without getting paid.” Kio sighed and shook her head. It seemed as if hanging with the older boys and brawling with them made her slightly older than she really was.

Her facial expression lessened, and she bowed her head to the man, remembering her place. “Forgive me, Elder. I am truly grateful for bringing me from my home village and bringing me here. I have somewhere to sleep and food to eat.”

The old man laughed again and shook his head. “No, no, you were right to be angry. Things have taken a little longer than I thought they would. You trusted me after I made a promise to you. I will be back for you, I promise. I shall make good on my promise.”

Kio stood to her feet and gave the same bow she saw the wandering cultivator give to others whenever he wanted to show respect. She clapped her hands together and bowed to the old man at the waist. “Thank you.”

He nodded his head to her and smiled before reaching up and ruffling her hair. “Don’t worry, little Kio, soon you shall be off this farm and with me. I have a friend you shall meet as well,” he told her as he walked away, giving another small laugh.

Kio returned to her work with a new determination, invigorated because she actually saw the man, and he explained what was going on. Then he promised he had a new friend for her? A master, maybe? An actual Sacred Artist to show her the ways of cultivation and set her on a path? Her mind went to her village, destroyed by the dragon cults, as she learned to call them from the people who took her in. She found out there was no love for those who worship the dragons.

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The week went by with little incident, and then, just like before, while she was milking the cows in the morning, the old man approached the barn. When he got to her this time, she stood and gave him the same bow as before. Hands clasped in front of her as she went as low as she could, keeping her back straight.

“Enough of that, young one. It is time to go,” the Elder reached and put a finger to her chin, lifting her back up. He gave her that warm smile and a soft wink.

“I am ready, master,” she replied quickly. It was true as well. She had nothing needed inside the house in the little room she shared with the other girl who stayed there. Some spare rags were her clothing, but that was it. She figured wherever they were going, she would receive Sacred Artist robes, since that is what she would learn to become.

The old man laughed and nodded, “yes, I am sure you are more than ready. You’ve been here longer than I intended already. Things are all set now. I’ve got you a spot in an extraordinary school, my little Beggar.”

Kio paused and frowned, taking a step back, “I’m not a beggar, you offered!”

The old man looked at her with his mouth open, a surprised look on his face. She didn’t understand what he found funny all the damn time. He’d then give another one of those damn laughs that had grated on Kio’s nerves.

“No, no, young Kio. You misunderstand. The Beggars are what we call ourselves, our little sect, if you will.” The old man clasped Kio’s shoulder like he did before, and suddenly there was that bright white light, and she felt that tugging.

When the experience was over, she was standing there with the old man in some woods at the base of a few small mountains. “Where are we?” she asked him, looking around at where he had transported them to.

She was in a small park surrounded by huts with straw roofs. There were also some people wandering around and even a couple sparring next to where they appeared. They didn’t seem phased by the sudden appearance of the two from thin air, so she assumed he just did it all the time. Who was this man that took her in?

“We are in the little area known as Mudpass in the Desolation. When we need to, we are a small group of people who move. We try to take care of each other and the world. We are the Beggars.” The old man took a knee in front of her, looking her in the eyes with his grandfatherly smile.

“Everyone here is a sacred artist or the family of one. We are a small group, but we are quite powerful, and we are everywhere, or well, as many places that we can be,” he continued.

He saw the question forming on her face before she could ask. “You know how there are the great and minor sects in the world? Well, we are a sect, just an unknown one. The smallest of the minor sects is much larger than us. We’re more a…” he paused and thought of the word “... well, just a group, I suppose. We pay no allegiance to other sects or organizations, or families. When you join us, you are just with us. You become a Beggar under the rat. The thing that will most interest you is that most of what we try to stop are the things that the Heavenly Dragon Sects do.”

Kio looked at the old man and once more gave a solemn, firm nod. It was like she had when he first met him, and he had asked if she wanted to come with him. He smiled, meeting her gaze, and squeezed her shoulder tightly for a second.

“Now, as I promised, there’s a new friend here. He’s a son of one of the townspeople. His name is Magnus, and they came to us from the northeast region of Pyanza.” The old man then looked off to the side and waved over a boy a little older than she was.

The boy walked up to them and clapped his hands together, bowing to the old man. He had bright blue eyes and short blonde hair. The stern face made him look older than he was. He then looked at Kio and gave her a bow as well. It took her a moment to fully realize what was going on, but she returned the Sacred Artist's bow to the boy once she did.

“My name is Kio,” she told him when she raised her head, looking at the boy and smiling softly.

The boy, Magnus, smiled and nodded his head. "Yes, the elder told us we would train together before you were sent to a school.”

Kio smiled and nodded her head vigorously. She was excited to finally start training in the Sacred Arts. “Yes!”

______________________

The following day, she woke with a start at the sounds of chickens outside her window. She groaned softly, hearing the chickens. She was tired of waking up to them after spending the weeks with the old family. When she laid her head back down on the pillow, she saw the figure in the doorway. When the figure saw her, he waved to her, motioning for her to follow him.

She jumped right from the bed and put on her new robes, black with gray trim. The Elder gave them to her the previous night before bed. She was told these were the only things she should wear unless she was ‘on assignment,’ whatever exactly that meant. She ran outside and saw Magnus and an older man she hadn’t met sitting on the ground in what she would learn is called lotus pose.

“Concentrate now, Kio. You have a core. You want to close your eyes and reach out with your spirit around you, bring it inside you, and cultivate the madra,” the older man explained.

Kio nodded her head and didn’t say that she knew how to cultivate. She didn’t want to give the false impression that she knew anything more than what a passing cultivator taught her. So Kio listened to what the man told her and learned that she had been cultivating her spirit wrong. Her breathing was improper, and while it wouldn’t hurt her, she had better fix the problem before she got too far in her path.

The older man, it turned out, was Magnus’s father and was in the later stages of his body development. When they were done with their morning cultivation, he had them stand in with their arms outstretched on top of a long pole. This was when she learned the different stages of cultivation. There were different tiers, and in each story, there were different levels.

Sacred Artists still in body cultivation could only manipulate the madra within their own bodies. They could reinforce their hits, quicken their limbs, and pretty much anything within their bodies. The spirit cultivators, the next tier, could do outward strikes with their madra and manipulate things around them. This was the more flashy side of Sacred Arts.

When you hear tales of the great old sacred artists, they usually used spirit cultivation techniques. Beyond that, her new master told her not to worry about it. Still, she learned it was a whole other level of power and abilities that were almost otherworldly, and that was when your lifespan lengthened.

She nodded along with the man’s words, listening, her muscles straining to stay on the pole. Every morning was like this, cultivation followed by body training. Sometimes she and Magnus sparred. Other times, she watched Magnus’s father and another spar while they coached them through their movements. After lunch, it was time for chores. Everyone had to help in the town of Mudpass. It was the same chores she had to do on the farm.

This continued for another month, and she learned some fighting ability, and Kio was able to grow her core. Magnus and his father both expressed how well she was doing, and she could feel her body strengthening. She had even learned how to reinforce her movements. However, she found quickly that she would much rather use the madra to make herself quicker than Magnus and his father, who just tried to make their blows hit harder. She figured it wouldn’t matter how hard they hit if they didn’t hit her.

Then one morning, just like when she was on the farm before, the old man approached her just after her morning cultivation. He clasped her shoulder and pulled her away from her training. “Well, Kio, I think it is time,” he smiled, looking down at her.

Once they were a little away, he smiled, and a small paper lantern was in his hand. Kio gasped softly as he pulled the item from thin air. The lantern was red and yellow and was a little paper sphere with a small candle underneath it. On top of the globe was some string that he held and lifted the bottom of the sphere to his mouth, whispering. Once he was done whispering, the candle lit, and the lantern floated away.

Kio watched it go, confused by the whole thing. “What was that?”

“Just a way for us to send messages quickly.” His eyes never left her face as she watched the lantern float into the sky. Eventually, the lantern just disappeared, seemingly into thin air.

Kio looked back at him, awestruck, still utterly confused by who this man was. She had learned to sense other peoples’ power now, and when she reached to sense his, she felt nothing, which raised many other questions in her mind. Kio didn’t ask The Elder, though. She knew by now he wouldn’t give her a straight answer.

“It is time for you to go to an excellent school. Are you ready to really become one of us and help us with our missions? Stopping things that would harm the world and spreading the word of the true Sacred Arts?” The Elder watched her expression, which was the same as every time he asked her a crucial heavy question. A simple firm nod with a look of pure determination.

“Good,” he said before he clasped her shoulder again. That now all too familiar white light and tugging sensation enveloped them both.

When they came out of it, they were in the forests at the base of some small mountain. The forest was thick, and Kio could barely see through the trees when she looked around. The hills were small in the way mountains went. They were much more extensive than simple hills, and there were three or four tops she could make out through the tops of the trees. She looked back to The Elder.

“We are in the Jade Mountains now, little Kio, and this is where you’re going to learn the Sacred Arts,” the old man explained as he walked up the mountain. “Up in these mountains is the School in the Jade Mountains, and the Elder owes me a small favor. To the southeast is a small village named Kyoto, and then the oceans, which lead further east. We are at the very edge of your continent, young one.”

She nodded, simply hearing his explanation. “Is the school good?”

“Your mission is one of the best and more important right now.” He told her and walked off, leaving her standing there as he began up the mountain.

“What mission, and why didn’t you just poof us up to the top of the mountain? That’s where we’re supposed to go, isn’t it?” Kio asked him and moved her feet to catch up to him.

The Elder laughed a little. “We are keeping a low profile, my dear little Kio, and your mission is to stay here for as long as it takes and learn all you can. You must become a powerful, Sacred Artist to achieve what you want.”

That was that, then. Kio had already planned on doing that, but now that it was her mission? She would also keep an ear to the ground and listen to anything that had to do with the dragon cults. She had called them along with everyone else that lived in Mudpass. When they reached the top of the mountain, it was afternoon. She saw the wide wooden gate and wall all etched with unique designs, and she could feel the power coming from the symbols.

She also noticed a boy there already, standing across from a woman. He was slightly chubby but had a stern face as he spoke to the woman, and he was bald, wearing robes of varying brown colors.

“Yes, Gate Master Kora,” she heard the boy say, clasping his hands together and giving the woman a bow.

Kio and The Elder stood together, waiting for Gatemaster Kora to acknowledge them. When she did, she looked at the older man. She clasped her hands together and bowed low, keeping her back straight and her head down, so she looked to the ground when she bowed. “Elder.” She muttered, with an amount of such respect Kio had never heard.

The Elder smiled and returned a shallower bow to Kora. Once the formalities were finished, Kora looked to Kio, who clapped her hands together and gave her the same sort of deep bow the woman gave the old man.

“I am Kio, Master Korra,” Kio told her when she raised her head.

“It is Gatemaster Korra, cultivator Kio, and I welcome you and young Silas into my gates for admittance into the School. You will find students from your respected areas of madra who will show you where to go.” Korra spoke softly but firmly. Kio quickly realized Gatemaster Korra was not a woman she should fool with.

The young boy Silas walked up to them and gave Kio a bow. “Greetings, Cultivator Kio. I am Silas Zhao from Zhangshu.”