Glowering out at the empty city, Sen let his spiritual sense wash outwards. It was powerful enough that, while he knew he couldn’t cover the entire city, it should cover most of it. Sen froze in place. He had expected to get the usual flood of information about everything alive in the area. Instead, he sensed nothing. Nothing at all. It was as if he cast his spiritual sense into an utter void. The only thing he could sense was himself, the temple, and… Sen whirled. Standing at the top of the steps was a positively ancient man in odd orange and yellow robes. Sen studied the figure with suspicious eyes, yet the man regarded Sen with a gentle smile. The man’s face was so wrinkled that Sen could barely see anything of his eyes except for a twinkle of good humor. The man’s positive demeanor made Sen take a cautious step back. He couldn’t sense a core or the concentration of qi he’d expect around a cultivator, but there was something about him. A kind of subtle, ineffable strength that made Sen very, very certain that he didn’t want to fight the man.
“You cultivators,” said the man with a surprisingly strong voice. “Always so suspicious. So violent. It’s almost like someone trains you to be that way.”
Then, as if he’d told the world’s funniest joke, the old man burst into laughter. Sen didn’t join him. Instead, his eyes darted around the area. This must be some kind of trick or distraction, thought Sen. As the seconds rolled by and the old man’s laughter ebbed, no attack came. No trap was sprung. The area around the temple remained as quiet and empty as it had been. The old man spoke again.
“You may call me Brother Khu. I am the, oh, I suppose you might say that I’m the caretaker of this place.”
Sen didn’t want to talk to the man. He wanted to go find Misty Peak and the spider. In the end, though, he thought that simply talking might get him to answers faster than roaming the city. Besides, he might get caught in whatever had happened to him again. Sure, climbing all those steps had been useful to him in the sense that it had given him time to sort out some of the things that had been troubling him. That didn’t mean he wanted to spend another few thousand years, or however long it had been, doing it again. He suppressed the annoyed noises and expressions he wanted to make. The man had introduced himself as Brother Khu, so Sen made the small leap of assuming the man was some kind of monk. Although, how the man had survived alone in the city for all the centuries since it must have been swallowed by the wilds was something of a mystery. Still, it was always wise to tread with care around monks. Sen offered the man a bow.
“I am called Lu Sen.”
The old man frowned. “Perhaps you are called that, but it’s not your name.”
It was Sen’s turn to frown. “It’s the only name I’ve ever known.”
“Hmmmm,” said the monk. “Very curious. Well, if you don’t know, I don’t expect it would gain you anything to have me enlighten you about it.”
Sen lifted an eyebrow. “Isn’t enlightenment what monks are all about?”
“Heh. I suppose it is but only in matters less, let us say, prosaic.”
While Sen was mildly curious about what Brother Khu had meant, he had buried his need to know about his family long ago. They hadn’t wanted him enough to come back for him when he was a poor street rat. Now that he was a comparatively wealthy cultivator, he didn’t want them. They had all gotten along just fine without each other. Sen saw no need to try to fix what was obviously working for all of them. Beyond that, Sen had more immediate and pressing concerns.
“How about the location of the people who were with me? Is that too prosaic a matter?”
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
“No. It’s simply not a matter that you can do anything about. You walked your path to arrive here. They must walk their individual paths to do the same. Right now, they are beyond your reach or mine.”
Sen grimaced. “So, the mandala is a trap.”
“A trap implies ill-intentions. The mandala is a method to find a path. I even allowed your fox friend to continue.”
“You knew?”
“Of course, I knew. Her trinket was clever enough, but neither my eyes nor my mind are clouded. She cannot hide her nature from me.”
Sen glanced back out at the empty city. He still wanted to go look for them, but he suspected that the monk was either telling the truth or was exerting an enormous, terrifying level of control over the entire area. Either way, Sen didn’t think he would find them. Turning back to the monk, Sen decided to focus on his other goal.
“Should I assume you know why I’m here?”
“I have a reasonably good idea. There isn’t much here of value to cultivators or foxes. So, I’d guess that the old monster finally decided that it was time to ascend only to discover that the only thing that could help him do it was here. Am I close?”
“That sounds about right. So, will you let me have it?”
The monk pondered that for a while before he shrugged and said, “Okay.”
Sen’s mind stuttered along until it finally dragged to a complete halt. He’d been expecting to have to argue about it, or maybe pay some outrageous sum for it, or most likely fight for the stupid treasure. One of those things, or more likely all three of those things, would have happened if he’d approached another cultivator for the treasure. Sen had been so primed for a conflict that he’s just never considered what he would do if things went his way. He stumbled around mentally before finally managing to dredge up something appropriate to say.
“Oh, um, thank you.”
An almost palpable aura of amusement exploded from the monk and suffused the area. It wasn’t domineering or oppressive the way Sen expected powerful auras to be. It was everywhere but rested as lightly as a feather on his senses.
“I bet you thought I’d make you fight me for it, didn’t you?”
Sen felt a little embarrassed about being so transparent. “Well, yes. I mean you did set up all those defenses to keep the foxes out. I’m here to help a fox. It’s not that much of a stretch to think you wouldn’t just give up the space treasure willingly.”
The monk laughed. “Is that what the old fox thought was happening? Those defenses weren’t there to keep him out. Not really. He could have gotten inside if he wanted it badly enough. They were there to make sure he didn’t come until he was truly ready to leave this world behind. He would have wasted the treasure if we’d let him have it sooner.”
Sen gave Brother Khu a skeptical look.
“So, this was all for Laughing River’s benefit?”
“Of course. I’m a monk. I know better than most that the path to enlightenment can take many forms. The old fox is just a little slower than most to find his way. He needed some assistance, even if he didn’t know it.”
Part of Sen was screaming at him that this was all part of some complex ruse. He did his best to silence that voice in the back of his head. He was too used to things always going wrong or going the hardest way possible. It was possible that the monk was lying, but Sen couldn’t think of a good reason why the monk would lie. There was no obvious benefit. If Brother Khu was as potent as Sen suspected, he could have simply denied Sen the treasure and sent him on his way.
“How long until the others arrive?” Sen finally asked.
“How long did it take you to arrive?” replied the monk.
Sen tried to think of a good way to answer the question but found that he didn’t have an answer that made sense. It had taken him as long as it had taken him. It would take the others as long as it would take them. The old man chuckled and waved for Sen to join him at the top of the stairs. Sen ascended the steps until he stood next to the monk. He was surprised to find he towered over Brother Khu by nearly a foot. The monk peered up at him with those deep-set, almost hidden eyes.
“Is everyone as tall as you, these days? It’s been a while since I was out in the world.”
Sen thought it over before he shook his head. “I’m fairly tall, as those things go.”
Brother Khu nodded. “Come along young man. We’ll have some tea, and I’ll try to remember where I put that bauble the old fox wants. I know it’s around here somewhere.”
As Sen followed the monk into the temple, he considered the word bauble. Given that it was a space treasure powerful enough to help the equivalent of a nascent soul cultivator ascend, Sen wasn’t sure that he’d call it a bauble. Then again, he hadn’t been living inside a mystical city that pulled double duty as a life-size mandala that could seemingly pull people into some other plane or state of existence. So, what did he know?