The next morning they both awoke early with the chants for morning prayer. Quan dutifully went to the central courtyard and performed the six prayers of the rising sun. When he was done they shared a small breakfast and Lian saw just how excited and nervous her son was: he didn’t even save any leftovers for Mittens.

They packed up their horses in the empty courtyard – three horses, one for each of them and a pack animal for the heavier goods – and then started the trek into the city. Palden and Master Tinley – the head monk of the temple – met them at the gates to the temple and then walked alongside them through Bhuo’s packed streets. Mittens trailed them by twenty feet the entire way.

The city itself was small enough for most people to know Quan, or at least know of him. No one knew he was Lian’s daughter except for the Keepers – most of the city thought she was a distant relative who visited once a year – so they regarded him as an orphan from one of the Central Empire’s many wars. As much as Quan was convinced he was not the object of affection for Bhuo’s young women, Lian couldn’t help but notice the way many of the girls looked at him. High atop his horse, in traditional Zhosian travelling clothes of rich green and blue, he looked calm, confident, and handsome. Their giggles and open mouths weren’t for him as Imperial oddity the way it had been when he was younger. Lian felt good for her son, as she saw just how much of an impression he’d made in Bhuo.

The looks directed at Lian were not as flattering. Most Zhosians hated Shuli Go, and the ones that recognized her braid and sword often looked at her with barely veiled contempt, at least those that didn’t swear outright. Even after sixteen summers she hadn’t won over many people beyond the Keepers and a few others in the temple. Luckily for her, Zhosians held the Tiendu Shu in the highest regard. They had a king, in a palace across the city, but he held only half the power in the country. Master Tinley as the highest Keeper and oldest monk, was a moral authority higher than anyone else. He said Lian was to be treated well, and so she was. At least as well as she could hope for.

Quan was too torn between anxiety about leaving and excitement for what was coming to notice anything around him. He knew he should be soaking up the city that he’d grown up in, absorbing it in case something happened and he couldn’t return, but his mind simply didn’t allow him to take anything in. The result was a cool, indifferent look that made him appear a hundred times more prepared than he felt. He trotted his horse down the streets he and Palden had raced through dozens of times, passed workshops where he’d made deliveries, and glanced monuments he knew the history of inside and out. None of it really registered though. He was on autopilot until they reached the gates to the city.

There Lian dismounted and Quan followed suit. At once Mittens ran up and rubbed against Quan’s leg. A sudden surge of panic snapped over him. He was saying goodbye to Mittens. He reached down and picked her up on instinct, scratching her into a purr. “I’ll see you in a few weeks,” he whispered into her ear, feeling slightly foolish. He never talked much to his cat except when alone with her. He glanced at Palden, expecting the older boy to chide him, but Palden’s face was almost as immobile as Quan’s own. Mittens spotted a bird and scrambled out of Quan’s arms, forgetting him entirely.

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“Cats are dicks,” Palden stepped forward, breaking into a grin.

Quan chuckled uneasily. “Yeah, they are.”

“So…” Palden started, his grin still in place but the silence of his thought shining through despite his best effort.

“So I’ll see you when I get back,” Quan tried to fill in the gap.

“Yeah. And hey, don’t forget to buy me one of those silk sashes for my prayer robe.”

“I’ll remember. You wanted bright pink right?”

“You bring me bright pink that’s the color I’m gonna turn your ass.”

Quan chuckled, the familiarity of their banter setting some of his anxiety aside. He was only a bit surprised to find a sadness quickly replaced it. He didn’t want to say goodbye to his friend, even if it was just for a few weeks. Palden had been his best friend for his whole life. He was more of an older brother than anything, but they’d hardly ever fought the way brothers did, and shared a sense of humor that most of the other students didn’t share, and the monks didn’t understand. The thought of not being able to share a joke with Palden on a moment’s notice was depressing in a way Quan hadn’t anticipated.

“So… you know… don’t be stupid out there,” Palden punched Quan’s shoulder.

“I’ll try,” Quan smiled and punched him back. “Don’t have too much fun while I’m away.”

“Like I could…” Palden’s voice trailed into too much sentimentality for the two young men to appreciate. They stood and stared awkwardly at the ground.

Quan glanced up to see Master Tinley wrapping up his goodbyes with Lian. The old monk then slowly approached Quan, his shuffling feet and cane betraying the clear mind Quan knew the Keeper still possessed. Quan bowed his head and folded his hands in the traditional Tiendu Shu posture. He held the pose for several seconds before slowly rising to find Tinley smiling and staring at him.

Tinley nodded his head jauntily back and forth, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he eventually decided on what to say.

“Don’t be stupid,” he said cheerfully.

Quan glanced at Palden, but the other boy was busy saying something to Lian.

“Yeah, I got that already Master Tinley,” Quan responded. “Thank you. I’ll try and do well.”

“It’s a quick ride to the city and back. There’s nothing to do well. Just don’t be stupid and you’ll be fine.” The old monk smiled, either having forgotten or not cared that most of his teeth had recently fallen out. His gap-toothed smile was still infectious. Quan didn’t really count Master Tinley as a father figure: he was too happy, too forgiving, and too hands-off in comparison to every other father he knew in Bhuo. Still, the man had provided for Quan since he was six years old, and had taken good care of him the whole time. Quan knew he couldn’t have asked for a better father if he’d tried.

“I will, Master.” Quan bowed again.

“Ok,” Tinley smiled, then turned around, his attention completely used up. “Let’s go Palden! I want to take a bath today. Guess what? That’s your job.” He started his slow shuffle back towards the gates. Quan watched Palden roll his eyes and acquiesce, before waving one final goodbye.

Lian approached her son and touched his shoulder. “You ok?” She asked.

Quan looked past her and the horses, towards the mountains and the road he’d never travelled. The anxiety disappeared and he was left with the excitement of not knowing what was down there at the bottom of the path.

“Yeah,” he replied, smiling. “Let’s go.”

They mounted their horses once again and started down the path. Quan took one last look back as they started to follow the road down into the plateau, and saw Mittens standing at the gate, staring at him. The cat titled its head to the left and the right, back and forth, then turned and pranced back into the city. Quan turned and caught his mom looking at him. She smiled, and he smiled back.