On her way back to her home, Pia stomped into every puddle she could find. Her shoes were clogged with mud and her socks squelched with every step. The rain refused to relent and by the time she reached her front gate, Pia’s shoes streamed clear water and her clothing was almost washed clean of mud from all the puddles.

Pia followed the back fence of Dwelling until it came to a T with a stone wall. The stone wall stood a few feet tall and was capped with an angled roof, and her natural waypoint. Here she turned right, and then left, following the long stone wall. It led to the main screen wall, or front gate, shaped in the traditional pagoda style. Two layers of high peaks curled up to the heavens. Dainty filigreed wood sat delicately on the roof. Pia liked to imagine what it must have looked like when it was first built. At first glance the beauty was present, but on closer looks it was clear the complex was in disrepair. Color had faded from the wood, and long cracks ran the length of the walls. Above the wooden arch, a weather beaten, and faded sign still read Dedication and Honor.

The ornately carved gates stuck together and Pia had to use all her might to force them open. Last time she'd used them a huge crack split down the front of the right side gate. Out of fear of further breaking them, Pia started leaping over the wall instead. Today was no different. With a quick leap and a push of wind yi, Pia sailed easily into her courtyard.

Inside the courtyard looked particularly rough in the ceaseless rain. On a good day, the inner court sported an abundance of overgrown bushes, grass, wildflowers, and trees. There had been a time Pia had tried to tame the yard, hacking at bushes, pulling weeds, and trimming trees. It had seemed empty. Too stark and desolate. Now, Pia let life grow at will.

In this early, wet spring, not much had grown yet. Winter deadened trees still jutted their limbs towards the sky and the pots of dirt held muddy puddles. The pathway had flooded, scattering white rocks and pebbles afloat. It was truly a dismal sight and did nothing to lift her mood.

With ease of familiarity, Pia skipped over the worst of the path and jumped up onto the platform leading into the main hall. There had once been stairs to walk, but they’d rotted through years ago. It was only a two-foot jump, so Pia never bothered to repair them. It was only her who lived here now.

The main hall had the same style entryway as the complex. A large pagoda style roof with double peaks and a dainty filigreed top. The roof angled away on both sides, one heading toward a kitchen and another toward a training hall.

Pia only used the main hall anymore. Dedication might be a large building, but of all the rooms, only two were usable. The main hall and the kitchen to its left were the two she used. The complex was large and sprawling, but no one had bothered with its upkeep. It was a beautiful corpse, left to rot and decay amidst the confines of its own walls.

The main hall was a tall, wide room, which made it useful as a living and study space. It had five ornamental pillars set into the floor, one for each of the elements. Pia had often used them to pin study notes on the nature of yi to each one.

The main hall and the kitchen both had doors that slid shut and tight, dry roofs. There was only a small leak in the main hall, on the side that led to the training hall. It let in a tiny drip-drop of water, so she let it go. After all, in a few days, Dwelling would be only a memory in her past. Pia’s few belongings were stored on the shelves in the main hall and her bedroll laid out beside the shelves. It was the dryest section of the room and the five yi pillars also created a visual barrier from the door, should anyone enter.

Looking out the window, Pia saw the darkening of the clouds. Despite having no sun, it was clear that night was coming rapidly. She pulled the main doors shut behind her and peeled off her sodden clothing. She shook them out and hung them piece by piece on the wooden pillars to dry. After pulling on some dry robes, Pia flung herself on her bedroll, no longer in the mindset for studying.

Her shins were bruised, her knee scraped, and her face throbbed with every heartbeat. Her brow tightened into a look of irritation as Pia stared at the roof. Closing her eyes, she brought her hands together and cycled her yi to warm herself. The air would start to bite as the sun fully descended for the night.

Pia regretted her misfortune that day. The day had started out well. In preparation for selection, she'd been running the training course four times a day. Today had been her fastest yet, even with the rain. Her mood had been bright before running into the twins...Pia refused to think about it any longer. Pushing all the thoughts of her classmates, the fight, Mow, and her worries about the selection aside, she closed her eyes and let the rain lull her to sleep.

Dwelling was still half asleep when Pia jogged through town the next morning. A heavy fog hung low over the village and even in the faint light it gave the village a haunted appearance. Few classmates were up and about as she jogged down the main road. Most students were eager for even a few extra minutes of rest these days. With only a short time before selection, all the students were studying and training constantly.

Her eyes scanned the few classmates she passed by, looking for her friends. Or rather, for Conch. She was certain that Fewl was already waiting atop the mountain. He was more like someone who’d live in a hall called Dedication and Honor than her. Fewl was always first to arrive and last to leave when it came to classes.

On the path ahead, a familiar crooked half knot bobbed in the air. Pia grinned. With a burst of speed, she dashed forward, launching herself onto the boy.

“Conch, my favorite friend,” she yelled right in his ear.

Conch spun around in surprise but Pia’s quick tightening of her arms saved her from tumbling off.

“Favorite friend? Wait till Fewl hears,” Conch said, giving her a sleepy grin.

Pia hopped off her friend and fell into step beside him. All the worries and fears slid away as a soft warmth blossomed in her chest. Being with her friends was always a balm for her soul.

“Oh, Fewl is the light in the heavens. The god amongst men. The pearl amongst grapes. The—" her voice cut off as Conch grabbed her braids and tugged.

“I feel I’ve been slighted now,” he said, flashing her his crooked grin. “Really it’s just because he lets you read his notes before tests.”

Pia couldn’t resist reaching out and pinching his cheek, saying, “You’re disgustingly cute this early in the morning.”

It was true. Their classmates called him amiably or charmingly handsome. His dark brown eyes shone with a dreamy warmth that drew others in. No one could dislike Conch; he had a knack for befriending almost anyone. Always quick to show his dimply smile, Conch was the object of many of Dwelling’s affections. Pia might’ve hated him if he wasn’t so indifferent to the attention.

Perhaps it was the side effect of having five older brothers who teased him endlessly, or that Conch was too easy going to have an ego. Conch wrapped his arm around her shoulder and Pia grinned and tossed hers around him. The two looked eye to eye at each other.

Pia knew she was tall for a girl, but she liked the subtle reminder it gave Conch. All Conch’s brothers towered over him and loved to tease him about his height. Pia grinned slyly at the look on his face.

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He gave her a flat, unamused look and pinched her side. Pia flinched away with a laugh, but quickly returned to his side.

“What happened to your face?” Conch asked with concern. He reached out and caught her chin, turning her face to look at it. His lips tightened in anger at the bruise on her cheek.

She pulled her head away and reached for one of her braids, twirling it around her finger. It was a habit she couldn't break.

“Just a run in with a donkey and it’s braying friends,” she said, voice making it clear she didn’t want to talk about it.

Conch sighed heavily, but said nothing, knowing she hated when he or Fewl made too big a deal out of these things. Pia forced more energy into her step. Rocking forward in hopping stride that resembled a horse’s canter, Pia bounced step by step.

“Wanna race?” she asked, giving him a little smirk of challenge.

They had just left the front gate and turned toward the mountain path. It curved sharply up through the trees and only got steeper as the path went along.

“All the way up the mountain?” he asked, a look of pained dismay on his face.

Conch was fit, but he was a lazy dreamer by nature. Running was a strictly “as needed” activity for him. Pia took two more canter-like leaps and waggled her brows, knowing she had him.

“On three?”

He looked away, as if debating, then grinned, matching her bouncy stride. The two friends shared a silly grin, lost in their own world.

“One,” he called out.

With an impish grin, Pia yelled, “Three!”

“Cheater!” he yelled as she took off like a bolt.

The two laughed all the way up the mountain.

The mountain path was an arduous climb but the view atop Divine Ascent was well worth it. Though, Pia and Conch, lungs burning for oxygen couldn’t appreciate it just yet.

“I won,” Pia said between gasping breaths.

Bent over with his hands on his knees, Conch shook his head in disagreement. His face was deep red, sweat-soaked hair clinging to his forehead. Pia tried to laugh but could only manage a wheezy breath.

After a few moments to catch their breath, the two forced themselves to walk, stretching their muscles after their long run. Neither wanted a muscle cramp so early in the morning. The sun was just peeking through the clouds, pushing away the darkness in reds and purple swirls. Pia and Conch eyed the view with awe, amazed at the beauty.

Divine Ascent Mountain was famous for its rich natural yi and many sages had found immortality from its high reaching heights. Even now, Pia and Conch felt their bodies recovering quickly as they breathed in the yi rich air. Life essence saturated everything atop the mountain.

From below, it appeared like any other peak, but once at the top, the mountain’s flat top stretched for miles, encircled by meadows that gave way to dense forests. Though the mountain was as tall and regal as any, the top appeared to have been cut off in a straight line.

Near the cliff’s edge stood their school, Reflection, a long, single-level wooden building with a pagoda-style roof. It was a short, long building rather than tall and ornate. On both sides of Reflection, long open windows ran the length of the building that left them exposed to both summer heat and winter cold. Pia often thought how generous the builders had been in ensuring their discomfort year-round. Conch always swore the view overlooking the cliff was worth it.

Pia had to concede on that point as the view was magnificent sky, clouds, and towering mountain peaks in the distance. It was as close to the heavens as a mortal could get.

The two slowly meandered close to the cliff as their breathing and hearts slowed to a normal rhythm.

“Pretty sunrise,” Pia remarked casually. The reds and purples were lovely today.

“You always understate it,” Conch complained, eyes dreamily taking in the shifting colors of the morning sky. Pia thought he was envisioning how to paint it.

Pia’s head swiveled around to the path as the faint sound of voices floated up from the path. Immediately her face tightened into a frown.

“Let’s go in,” she said to Conch, turning away from the sky and towards their school.

His eyes followed the noise and then back at her. Pia hated the light of understanding that she saw in that gaze. Kindly, he said nothing, and the pair walked across the meadow.

Fewl was, of course, the only one inside, already at their usual seats. His eyes didn’t leave his work as they came to join him. As he passed by for his seat closest to the windows, Conch lightly clapped Fewl’s right shoulder in greeting, careful not to disrupt his writing.

Pia took her spot in the middle and eagerly collapsed onto her floor mat with a grunt of relief. She pushed her feet out under her desk and stretched her arms up over her head. Fewl’s fingers froze poised over his paper in preparation. Seconds later, Pia’s head thumped onto his left shoulder.

“Fewl, always the first to Failed Scholar’s Last Leap,” she whined, voice muffled against his shoulder.

Conch smirked and leaned his head down to rest on his left palm. His friends got on like fire and oxygen. He liked being the fan or the water to balance their fire

Fewl shook his shoulder, but her head didn’t budge. He sighed and reached over, using a finger to push her face off. Pia fell backward, dramatically, as if she’d been shoved. It left Conch’s vision clear to see Fewl’s steely gaze fall on her bruised face and take it in. His jaw tightened and Conch could tell his friend was angry. Fewl already had a solid scholar’s mask, but Conch knew his tells well.

Fewl, being Fewl, didn’t say a thing, and instead, wet his brush with fresh ink and went back to writing.

“You always bully me,” Pia said with a long-suffering sigh.

“Stop insulting the mountain with your poor wit,” Fewl retorted, ignoring her baiting comment.

Conch grinned.

“That was a bit poor for you. Last time it was,” Conch said to Fewl, then paused to shift his voice to sound like Fewl. “‘Not everyone can use their head only as a paperweight Pia.’”

“You’re picking up his mannerisms too well,” Pia said in praise, and she gave him a fist to her palm in respect.

She leaned close to Fewl, careful not to bump him again, and peeked at his work. Her nose crinkled as she read.

“Poetry?” distaste was clear in her voice.

Conch’s lips twitched.

“A blossom in spring turns red upon heated steel?” Conch asked in a sly voice. He knew bawdry poetry well from his brothers.

Fewl looked up from his work to give him a frigid, unimpressed look.

“What Pia lacks in manners, you make up for in disgrace,” Fewl said coldly.

Conch clutched his chest as if stabbed in the heart. Pia leaned over and patted his back soothingly.

“Our friend has no culture,” she told Conch. “If you cut him, ink would pour out.”

Seeing Fewl’s back straighten into a rigid line, Conch and Pia relented and sank into silence. Conch shifted his posture to lean against the wall and watch the sky.

Pia cracked open her book. Her own scratchy handwriting stared back at her. She slammed the book shut and pillowed her head on her arms atop the desk instead. Her eyes followed Fewl’s hand as he made fast, flowing strokes across the paper. It was relaxing and her eyes fluttered in sleepiness.

The voices she’d heard before finally reached the mountain top. Their classmates were arriving. Pia sat up as anxiety flooded her. She tucked her legs into a respectable position to avoid any trouble from her slouching. Butterflies danced in her belly as she pretended to read.

While most of their peers knew not to disturb Fewl, everyone loved Conch. It wasn’t atypical for classmates to crowd around, sitting on the window or standing around Conch as they talked. Today was no different. Conch turned around in his seat to talk to the three behind them. Pia stared hard at her book, trying to tune everything out.

Fewl leaned close and whispered in her ear, “It’d be more believable if you turned a page.”

He sat back with a little smirk on his lips as if he’d never taken his attention from his work.

Pia let out a slightly strained laugh and turned a page. She hadn’t read a word. People made her nervous, especially their peers. Incidents like the day before weren’t uncommon when Fewl and Conch weren’t around. If they ever found out… A shudder ran up her spine at the horrible thought. Pia never wanted them to see her as something to pity. It would kill her.

Mei and Mai had arrived already and from the corner of her eye she could see them lingering nearby. Just try to start trouble, she thought, eyes narrowing at the book. Just as quickly as the thought happened, Pia forced it away. It was more important that she seemed like an easy target. It wasn’t the time to pick fights. Selection was in days and if Pia passed the tests, Dwelling would be in her past. Her fingers curled around the edge of her book. She had to be selected. If not…

A nudge against her knee broke her out of her thoughts. Looking up she saw Fewl once more looking at her. His coldly handsome face was as blank as ever. The impeccable way his hair fell, not a strand out of place, always made her slightly envious. A true gentleman scholar in the works.

“What?” she asked, unsure of what he wanted.

“Let me see your book,” he said.

Obediently, Pia handed him her book.

Fewl opened it and looked it over. Then, he pulled yi into his fingers, picked up his brush, and began writing in cinnabar red ink in her book.

A warmth of affection unfurled in her heart as Fewl wrote notes into her book until the Master arrived and the classes began.