Vath woke up slowly, simultaneously refreshed, comfortable, and sore. It felt like every part of his body had been injured, which he supposed it had a little, but it felt good in the way the day after strenuous exercise did, if you didn’t overdo it, at least. The bed was warm and soft, and despite the slight aches and pains, he felt incredibly rested. He opened his eyes, and was greeted by a lightly shining set of text within boxes of absolute darkness, bordered with the same gold luminescence.

Name:

Vath

Cultivation Stage:

Essence Integration - 23%

Organizations:

Sect of the Shining Void

Essence Balance:

Perfect

Strength:

16 (~2)

Potency:

22 (~12 [2+10])

Speed:

13 (~2)

Flow:

12 (~2)

Durability:

14 (~2)

Resilience:

12 (~2)

Affinities:

Void - 77/100

Bloodline:

Empty Wolf (Close) - Early Awakening

Techniques:

Cultivation:

Empire’s General Method

Sect of the Shining Void General Method

He scanned the information. Some of it was clearly self-explanatory, but he certainly had questions to ask. He was a little surprised it knew which techniques he could use, but he supposed it was directly connected to his mind. It knew exactly how far his cultivation had progressed, which was more than a little useful, and he’d have to keep an eye on the balance. The extra power from keeping that perfect was small, but he wasn’t going to lose it from lack of diligence. The bloodline was nice to have a record of, although he wasn’t sure what it did for him apart from, presumably, that void affinity. He wasn’t sure how hard it usually was to get an affinity that high, but considering he’d never worked to improve it at all, either affinity was easy to raise, or his bloodline was putting in a lot of work. He’d bet money on the second one. Well, maybe not, he hated the idea of betting, but he was confident he was right. As for the numbers defining his body and, he assumed, his cultivation, most of his questions stemmed from those.

Strength, speed, and durability were probably as obvious as they seemed, but he wasn’t sure what the numbers in parentheses represented. Perhaps how his cultivation raised them above his body’s natural state? But then why did potency have so much more if it was supposed to be perfectly balanced? Potency was likely how strong his essence was, if he had to guess, and while powerful essence sounded like a very good thing, he wanted to know why. Flow might be how quickly or smoothly his essence flowed through his channels, but he didn’t know what to make of resilience. Could it be the durability of his essence channels? He knew it was possible to damage those if they were overused or underdeveloped. The answers might seem somewhat obvious with a little thought, but he couldn’t afford to be wrong about what this information meant. A proper estimation of what you were capable of was invaluable.

He decided to get up and check with Kaser. He might have some ideas, and comparing their results might provide clues or confirmation. Vath moved to the bath, luxuriating in it for a moment, but ultimately finishing quickly. He couldn’t afford to linger, as much as he wanted to. Just as finished drying himself off, he caught sight of himself in the mirror in the corner, and stared, open mouthed. His body was tall and stout, his jaw strong, and his muscles clearly defined. He’d never gotten a chance to see himself besides the occasional reflection in a river. He knew his general features, but a clear look in a mirror was new, he’d missed it the night before. But that wasn’t what he was staring at. He’d always had deep black hair, just like his brother. His father had a dirty brown color, and he vaguely remembered his mother’s being dark, so he assumed they had gotten it from her. He’d had the same pitch color his whole life. Until now. There was a shine to it that he doubted could be explained by the hair cleaner. Both because it had been many hours since he used it, and, more crucially, because it was the exact same shade of red that the orb had flashed. That seemed significant, but he had no idea what it meant. He moved quickly into the front room after donning his robes, and heard his brother moving around in the kitchen.

Kaser looked up, blinked and asked, “What happened to your hair?”

“I have no idea, but the same thing that happened to yours. You should go use the mirror in your bathroom” Vath responded. Kaser frowned, rushed to his room, and a moment later let out an exclamation of surprise. His hair was also the same red from his orb flash. It even had the slight orange tint to it. They didn’t notice anything else wrong, so they resolved to ask about it later, and moved onto their food.

There was a much smaller breakfast than the dinner the night before, but it was still far more food than they were used to, not that they’d complain. It was delicious. Vath had slept through its delivery, but Kaser had already been up. The upcoming day had him full of nervous energy, and he’d barely been able to sleep, from what he said. Once they’d finished and disposed of the trash into the chest, they had nothing to do until Wald arrived, so they decided to compare their catalogers before trying out the cultivation room. Kaser’s was quite similar. His strength and durability were lower, his speed higher, which both had expected. His stage was at twenty-six percent, and all of the places where Vath’s sheet had a two in parentheses, Kaser’s had a three, which all but confirmed for them what those numbers represented. Oddly, Kaser’s void affinity was only at seventy-four, and the potency had a nine where Vath’s had a ten. That indicated a relationship between the affinity and the potency result, but the math still confused them. There must be something else adding into that, that they couldn’t see. As they ran out of ideas to make sense of their catalogers, Kaser started teasing his older brother. Vath had been the one to get actual training in cultivation, and taught Kaser everything he knew on the topic until they met Wald, and he was still further ahead in the stage. Vath asserted his dominance by pinning his brother under his higher strength score until he admitted that a few percent meant little. Since Wald still wasn’t there, they decided to cultivate. Every moment counted when you were as behind as they were compared to their peers.

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They settled into their circles, relaxing in the feeling of such high ambient essence, and pushed their cultivation methods as hard as they could without losing control. It felt like they sat there for hours, but even with how early they’d woken up, it couldn’t have been more than half an hour before there was a chime through the house that meant someone was at the front door. Kaser scrambled towards it, and Vath followed at a slower pace, checking his cataloger on the way. His stage had increased from twenty-three to twenty-four percent. He smiled. That was the only thing that had changed, and he didn’t know how close he’d been to that beforehand - the cataloger seemed to always round to a whole number - but he could already tell he was going to enjoy having such measurable progress. The hardest part of cultivating for him had always been not knowing for sure if the impressions of improvement he had were accurate. It took weeks or longer for enough change to occur that he could tell for sure based on what his body was capable of, and the wait was often frustrating. Being able to see the number go up was gratifying in a way he couldn’t fully express. Despite his scrambling, the hall was only so long, so Kaser only reached the front door a few strides ahead of Vath, so both were fully in view when he opened it to Wald’s smiling face.

Wald looked them up and down as he spoke, “Well, look at you two. The robes suit you. How do you two fee-” he cut off, right as he noticed their hair. “What happened?” he asked after a moment.

“We’re not sure. We both woke up like this. It doesn’t hurt, and we haven’t noticed any other symptoms, so we didn’t feel a healer was needed. We intended to ask you or the… storage room elder? We didn’t get his name or title.” Vath told him.

Wald nodded, “He’s just known as the Quartermaster. I don’t even know his name, but he’s been here a long time. If he doesn’t know, we’ll ask a healer just to be sure, but if there’s nothing but the color change, it’s probably fine. Ready to go?”

They set out back the way they came the day before, Wald confirming on the way that their hypotheses were in the right direction, and that more detail would come in their classes, and before long were walking back into the Quartermaster’s domain. The man cocked his head at them the moment they entered with an inquisitive eyebrow raised. “Couldn’t avoid standing out even a little bit, could ya? Does no good to hide your records if you wear proof on your head.” he said with a snort.

Wald stopped short, his brow furrowed. “How do you know about that? No one but the sect master or my master should have access to that unless they gave someone permission. Has the senior disciple who tested them been telling stories?” he asked with a serious tone.

The Quartermaster snorted even louder at his questions. “I’ve had access to those records since before the sect master was born, boy, let alone the Elder you had seal them. I don’t need his, or her, permission to look at them, and they know that. The tester said nothing. She’s got a good head on her shoulders. I won’t be spreading it either, if you’re worried. I use that information to do my job. Nothing else. Feel free to ask your master.”

Wald looked conflicted, but eventually he seemed to accept it, “Alright. I’ll ask, but for the moment, we should move on. Is there any danger to their change? Do you know what caused it?”

“Any other changes or symptoms besides the hair, boys?” at their negative head shake, the quartermaster continued, “Then they’re fine. Beast lineages usually manifest signs; you know that. That’s all this is. Triggered by the cataloger, probably. Happens from time to time, and there’s never been an issue with it. If anything, it’s stranger that the signs didn’t show until now. Though the color is somewhat odd for empty wolves. Never seen that one before.”

“It’s the same color our orb flashes were.” Kaser told him.

“Is it now?” the quartermaster perked up a bit, “Huh. That’s a new one. The records mentioned orange flecks in yours. I hadn’t looked close enough to see it, but they’re there, all right. How interesting. I wonder if they’ll change.”

“Change?” Vath asked.

“Some Beast signs change as the bloodline is refined or the cultivator grows in strength. Sometimes both. If yours is the color of your current results, I wonder if it will change when they do. Guess we’ll see.” he answered, “Now, let’s get you two measured. The new robes will be delivered tomorrow or the day after.”

The measurements took no time at all; the quartermaster was certainly skilled at his job. When he was done, Wald collected them and led them to their first class. As new disciples, they had five classes each day for five days a week, with one rest day, and one day for missions or contribution. Those five classes covered the basics and were mandatory until the teachers told them they didn’t have to return and filed that you had passed the class in your records. If any of them had not filed within one year of joining the sect, you might be removed, but most passed such easy classes in less than six months, so it wasn’t an onerous requirement. Their first class was an introduction to all the concepts a cultivator should know about cultivation, their essence catalogers, techniques, and things disciples should know about the sect. It was perhaps the easiest of the five to pass, but it had so much necessary information that Vath, at least, was looking forward to it. The second was always in the same room and with the same teacher as the first, but there was a short break in between the two for disciples to relax and refocus. It was also about the concepts of cultivation, but it was much more practical and hands-on. The instructor would have everyone cultivate or perform non-dangerous techniques, and work with the students on perfecting them until they were confident the disciple could self-study without serious flaws or risk to others. This was followed by another break, and then the history class would begin. It covered the history of the Empire, the sect, as well as other notable events throughout the world and, if Wald was to be believed, beyond. All that was required to pass this class was a test of knowledge, but it usually took at least a few months before the class covered everything the test would. It ran in cycles, so you could start at any time and take the test as soon as you felt like you could pass it.

After the third class, there was a longer break for lunch, and when it was done would be the mandatory physical classes. The first was little more than a long and supervised exercise regimen. But if the disciples Vath was seeing were typical, the instructors in that class knew what they were doing. The final class of the day would be supervised sparring. All of their classes had the potential to be useful and interesting, but he was looking forward to sparring the most. He knew he was behind in cultivation, but he wanted to see how he matched up to people who had actually been trained. Wald had trounced the two of them, but he was an inner disciple at least six or seven years older than them, and it had still been fun. He couldn’t wait to try himself against people closer to his own age, and, hopefully, skill level.

Wald waved goodbye outside the class, and told them to head back to their rooms when they were done with the first two classes so he could show them where the history class was. Disciples filed in around them, most their own age, but a handful older or younger. The teacher was at the front, in the standard white robe; all teachers wore pure white robes, with no mark of status. The intent was that all teachers were due the same level of respect from their students, whether the teacher be an Elder, a senior disciple, the sect master himself, or a scholar with lacking cultivation the sect hired to teach their specific expertise. In practice, Vath doubted it worked out that way every time, but he had to admit, the consistency and visible reminder would probably help. The closer he looked at their current teacher, though, the more concerned he became. He looked to be a middle-aged man, standing stiff with his arms behind him, and he was currently scowling at every disciple who entered. He’d seen teachers get angry before, but in his experience they tried very hard not to show this level of anger, especially given that the class hadn’t even started. As first impressions went, he was seriously hoping this wasn’t the man’s norm. He’d had enough angry authority figures with just Jalen. He had no interest in dealing with it again in a classroom setting. Kaser shot him an uncertain look, and vath frowned and shrugged. “We’ll have to see. But I’m not putting up with it if he treats us like he looks like he wants to.” he said. Kaser’s look turned severe, and he nodded sharply.

They found seats near the back, and waited for the class to start. It did not start well.

“Well! About time you all found your seats. So slow and disorganized. I swear the dross increases in number every year. Let’s begin! You!” he yelled, pointing at someone near the front, “You were here yesterday. Remind the class, what are the six attributes, and what do they signify?”

The boy shot to his feet, bowed, and answered loudly, “Strength, speed, and durability are the three bodily attributes; and potency, flow, and resilience are the three essence attributes. The three bodily attributes represent exactly what you would expect, potency represents the power of your essence, flow represents how quickly and smoothly your essence flows through your channels, and resilience represents how much the channels themselves can withstand.” He bowed again and sat down immediately.

“Disgraceful.” the teacher sneered. “An hour long class on them, and that’s the best you can do? All technically correct, but missing so much important information that you might as well have not answered.”

The disciple hung his head, and Vath exchanged a look with Kaser before they both stood and moved towards the exit. “Where do you think you’re going?” they heard from behind them.

Vath continued walking, but Kaser apparently couldn’t help himself. He turned just enough to say over his shoulder, “Somewhere better suited to learning.” There were gasps in the audience, and the instructor grew red in the face.

“I have not dismissed the class! Sit. Down. If you leave, you will not be welcome in my class again.” he spat.

Vath stopped and turned, incredulousness written all over his face. “Your punishment for leaving is that we don’t have to come back? Why would we want to?” he asked.

The teacher’s face somehow changed color further, and his words dripped like acid from his lips, “Go then. This will be put in your record. You will be lucky to keep your place in the sect. Begone!”

Vath and Kaser walked out.