The first rays of sunlight filtered through the trees, casting a soft, golden glow over the forest floor. Eli took in slow, even breaths as he jogged. The air was cool and fresh, carrying the sweet scent of pine resin and the earthy aroma of damp soil invigorated by the previous night's summer rain.

He kept it slow so Taz could keep pace. Oversized clumsy puppy feet couldn’t keep up with Eli when he was pushing himself.

And he pushed himself a lot.

Eli had never been comfortable without a project. But everything he had worked for was on hold right now. Quite possibly forever. The only things he had to focus on were Taz, training, and cultivation.

That last one was still an utter disaster, so he poured his energy into the other two. As though he could outrun the rage corrupting his soul.

Mornings consisted of katas and jogging. After that train Taz for a while. On days when Mira was around, they’d go to the dojo and spar. If he was really feeling like a masochist, he might work on his meditation.

Every so often on their runs, Taz would pause, nose twitching, as he picked up a scent or spotted a squirrel darting up a tree. Eli watched him with a fond smile, appreciating his uninhibited joy and the way his presence turned a simple jog into an exploration of nature's wonders.

Taz nosed around in some bushes, curious about a smell that had caught his attention. Eli’s smile fell away as Taz began to growl and back away from the bush.

“Whatcha got there, buddy?”

A figure burst from the bushes in a spray of twigs and leaves. They were dressed head to toe in black, like a damned ninja. Eli sprang backwards in surprise, hands coming up defensively.

For the first time since he’d come back from the rainforest, Eli felt the fog seeping in to steal his reason. All of his focus began to narrow into one simple goal: Kill the enemy.

He found a growl emitting from his own throat to match that of the dog. As Eli lunged forward, Taz took his cue and nipped at the figure.

“Dammit, Taz!” the figure cried, pulling their hand back sharply when the dog’s teeth struck.

A familiar voice pierced through the haze before the rage could fully take hold. He threw his will against the fog, pushing it back with enormous effort.

“It’s me, it’s me,” Mira said, ripping the mask from her face.

“Fucking Christ Mira! You’ve scared me half to death!”   

“You didn’t look even remotely scared,” Mira said, frowning. “So it finally came on this time, did it?”

Eli nodded, still recovering from the shock. The rage lingered distractingly, threatening to take hold if he let down his guard.

“I was able to fight it off when I realized it was you. Just barely,” he said, glaring.

Her eyes were sympathetic but held no apology.

“I know you hate this, but you realize that we aren’t doing it just to be wankers, right? Finding out where your lines are is a good thing. Even if it doesn’t feel so good right now.”

Eli stopped glaring and looked at the ground. Of course, he knew that.

“I was starting to convince myself it was gone. Deep down, I knew that was a lie. It’s always there, and I can feel it when I pay attention. But I was hoping maybe it would stay tucked away in a little box and let me get on with my life.”

“I’m sorry, Eli. That must be awful.”

“It’s frustrating not to be able to plan for anything. I was always pretty laser focused on my goals. Usually at the expense of stuff like normal human relationships, but at least I knew where I was going. That’s all gone now.”

“Well, maybe we can help you out with that. Let’s head to the lodge. Bataar wants to have a chat.”

“About what?”

“You’ll see when we get there,” she said.

Eli hated mysteries like this. He always assumed something terrible and worried the entire time.

Mira was idly rubbing at her hand where she’d been nipped. “Are you cycling qi into Taz? His bite actually hurt a little.”

Eli could feel the flush creep across his cheeks.

“Bataar taught me a technique. He said that his people are shown how to bond with a golden eagle when they successfully pass through the first gate. He wanted to pass on the ‘noble warrior tradition’ with Taz.” Eli shrugged. “It’s supposed to be good cultivation practice.”

Plus, it seems like the only thing I can actually do well.

Mira looked extremely skeptical.

“Does Doc know about this?”

“It never occurred to me to tell her. The few times I’ve gone to see her was to learn the basic cycling mediation. Which apparently I suck at.”

“You don’t suck at it. You’re simply learning.”

“Yeah, tell that to Doc.” He looked around to find Taz a fair distance into the woods, sniffing his way down a game trail. “Taz! Come here, boy.”

He patted his leg, and the dog came running back. The trio started towards the lodge for this mysterious meeting that Eli found himself dreading.

“Listen, I’m not trying to give you a hard time,” Mira said as they walked. “But Bataar can be a bit impulsive. He taught an untrained cultivator to create a spirit beast. Few people practice this technique because it’s a long term responsibility and distracts from the inward focus most of us prefer. More importantly for you right now, what does a dog do when his master attacks someone?”

Eli winced at the memory of Taz nipping Mira a few moments ago. If he thoughtlessly waded into a fight the dog would be right there beside him, whether he liked it or not.

“Shit. I thought I was keeping him out of danger, not putting him into it.”

“You started with Taz unusually young. If you are willing to focus on his growth at the expense of mastering your own techniques, he will grow very powerful. And dangerous. It’s a balancing act that requires a lot of forethought and knowledge. Knowledge that Bataar didn’t make sure you have before sending you down this path.”

Eli looked worriedly down at the puppy trotting by his side. Taz had his nose to the ground again, excitedly exploring the doggy world of smells. Whatever else happened, he’d make sure to protect the little guy.

Eli was surprised to see Shoi-Ming standing next to the hearth as they came in to the lodge. One hand rested lightly on the jian at his hip and he stroked his short beard thoughtfully. He did not look up as they entered, continuing to stare into the unlit fireplace.

Shio-Ming had been marginally more friendly than Bo, but not a lot. Eli was more than slightly intimidated by the man after catching him going through sword forms by the lake one day. He had never seen anything like it in his life. The man’s movement with that jian was unearthly perfection.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Bataar and Bo were both seated in comfortable adjacent chairs, engrossed in quiet conversation. No one had ever hung out in this room since Eli had been staying here. He found the scene weird and unnerving.

“Have a seat, please,” Bataar said as they walked up. His serious tone heightened the unease.

Eli took a seat on a long sofa across from Bataar. Taz hopped up next to him, tired from the run. Eli wasn’t sure if the dog was allowed on the couch, but no one said anything.   Mira plopped down cross legged on the other end of the sofa. He took some small comfort in the fact she didn’t look nearly as somber as the other three.

“I try to have everyone here for this sort of thing, but Doc is helping Lynn out with a project so they can’t make it.”

“What sort of thing?” Eli asked.

“We have been trying to find a sect or master to take you in so you can learn the foundations of being a cultivator. It has been very challenging,” Bataar said. Shio-Ming grunted in agreement. “There are few schools left since the purge, and of those most do not want the Triad problems that you bring. Others do not believe they can help with your specific challenges.”

Eli could see why a school might not want to take on a person who may go feral and try to murder all the other students at any moment. It made sense, but it still stung a little.

“A very old friend from my homeland has offered to teach you. He is a shaman who lives alone in the Altai mountains. It is extremely remote,” Bataar said. “This is one option.”

“Which implies there is another?” Eli asked hopefully. He did not relish the idea of going to live with a hermit in bufu Mongolia. The last thing he wanted right now was to be cut off from everyone he knew for years on end.

“The Order of Celestial Harmony has agreed to your initiation into our ranks. We will take responsibility for your training.”

Eli was certain he must have heard that wrong. Most of these people didn’t even like him. He looked at Mira, who gave an encouraging smile.

“Everyone agreed to this?” Eli looked between Bo and Shio-Ming incredulously.

“Yes,” Bo said simply.

Shoi-Ming presented a fist and palm salute.

“You have shown courage, martial prowess, and dedication to training,” he said quietly. “A core that we might forge into a cultivator who will bring honor to our Order.”

Relief flooded into Eli, but it was short lived as he considered the implication of accepting this invitation.

“So I would have to…what? Fight bad guys for a living?”

“Foremost among the sacred tenets of the Order is the preservation of humankind's sovereignty. Shielding it from the tyrannical reign of cultivators,"” Shoi-Ming said.

Mira must have noticed the uncertainty on Eli’s face.

“We accept many types of missions. And yes, some of them involve fighting bad guys.”

“Can I take some time to think about this?” Eli asked.

“Of course,” Bataar said. “You would be a fool not to. Let me know when you have made your decision.”

Beyond the distant mountain peaks, the setting sun painted the backdrop striking shades of orange and red. A crisp wind accompanied the evening’s falling temperature. From his perch atop the cliff, Eli took a long, deep breath to calm his unsettled mind.

Taz lay a few feet away napping while Eli worked on a sketch of the dog. He hadn’t broken out the charcoal pencils and notebook since coming home. The golden highlights that interrupted Taz’s black coat like kintsugi pottery seemed to glow in the evening sun. The familiar act of drawing helped Eli feel focused and normal.

His life had been relatively normal. This time last year, the biggest concern for his future had been finding a real job in an incredibly competitive job market. If he ever finished his degree, that is.

Joining the secretive world of cultivators had been a childhood fantasy. His only real knowledge had come from occasional news headlines, dry history lessons, and movies that were more fiction than truth. Like a lot of kids, he had tried to learn to cultivate online, only to find the landscape inundated with scams and cults.

In many ways, choosing to study spirit animals had been the compromise between childish dreams and pragmatism. He was able to be peripherally involved in the world of cultivation while helping to protect and understand those magnificent creatures. He may never be a hero, but it would be close enough.

Only now he really could be a hero. Maybe. With this thing inside of him, he may just as easily become a villain.

Eli knew that he would be staying with the Order the moment Bataar offered, but saying yes would make it real before he had a chance to process anything. He had to think it through first. Sketch it out in his mind. Understand not only the words, but the meaning of this commitment.

It wasn’t just the abrupt change in direction his own life had taken. The rest of the planet was getting weird, too.

As the alien delegation toured the world, governments had been light on the details of what, exactly, they were doing here. While their arrival seemed to have hit the pause button on a lot of global conflict, the secrecy surrounding their goals and motivations has led to a lot of speculation and unrest.

Nothing felt real any more, he realized.

It was like watching his life play out in a movie. As though it was all happening to someone else. He had gone on a murderous rampage and killed who knows how many people. It could happen again, and he didn’t know how to stop it. He was about to accept a position where he would be expected to fight and could get killed. Fucking aliens had come to Earth.

The emotions a normal person were supposed to have seemed distant and numbed. Was he just overwhelmed, or had he become some unfeeling thing?

Amidst all of this craziness, the only thing that scared him was that he might hurt an innocent person. Or someone he loved might get hurt again because of his actions.

The clarity of that thought cut through the numbness. His mind sketched the outlines of that fear to help him finally understand the decision he had to make.

Eli would join the Order and figure this out. He had to, first and foremost, in order to protect the world from himself. And when he had mastered this rage, he would protect the world from everything else. Because he couldn’t protect Master Haruun, or the villagers, or Maneea.

Because he couldn’t protect Stitch.

He set the pencil and notebook aside as Taz woke up, stretching lazily before trotting over to get his tummy pet. Eli reached down and felt the dog’s core through his hand. Weaving their energy together, he gently pushed qi down his arm and allowed a slow trickle to return like Bataar had showed him.

Eli appreciated Mira’s concern that there are dangers and trade-offs that he wasn’t aware of in working with a spirit animal. At that moment, he knew with certainty nothing anyone could have said would have led him down a different path.

The smell of cigar smoke irritated Eli’s nose as he approached Bataar’s house. It was probably just the contrast with the clean mountain air, but the odor seemed especially acrid. Aside from the half moon hanging bright in the sky, the lit ember of Bataar’s cigar was the only illumination on the porch.

A red cooler with a white plastic lid lay on the floor next to the chair where Bataar sat. He set the cigar in an ashtray on the table and dug out a beer as Eli walked up. He tossed it to Eli the moment he cleared the stairs.

“Have a seat, kid,” Bataar said. “What’s on your mind.”

“Thanks for the beer,” Eli said as he settled into a surprisingly comfortable wooden chair. He easily twisted the top off the bottle before realizing it wasn’t a twist off.

Another cultivator super power. We don’t need bottle openers.

“I’ve decided to stay with the Order, if that’s ok.”

“What the hell do you mean ‘if that’s ok.’ Of course it’s ok, that’s why we offered. You’re gonna wear me out if this is how it’s gonna be with you.” Bataar puffed on his cigar and raised a questioning, bushy eyebrow at Eli.

“Sorry. The ground beneath my feet is just a little shifty right now.” Eli took a long drink of the beer. “This is really good!”

“I brew it myself,” Bataar said with pride. “You should get yourself a hobby, too. It’s good to have a life outside the Order.”

“So what’s next? Do I need to walk the gauntlet where everyone beats me into the gang?”

“Ha! We train. And you’ll wish you got off so easy as walking a gauntlet. You need to see how we work as a team and learn the playbook. After a while, we’ll take you on a couple missions and see where you’re head’s at. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah. I’m concerned about that last part, though. Do you think it’s a good idea for me to go on a real mission before I can keep myself from hulking out?”

“We’ll keep you away from the fight until you get a better handle on things.”

“Did Mira tell you about earlier today?” Eli asked. The experience had left a subtle hum of anxiety running nonstop in the background all day.

“She told me,” Bataar said, nodding. “She also said you were able to push it back. That’s a good thing. It means that with practice, you can control it. It will be a powerful weapon when that time comes.”

Eli wasn’t so sure about it ever being a weapon. It felt more like a curse. He just wanted to forge a mental box strong enough to lock it away for good.

Bataar must have seen the skepticism on his face.

“You just worry about training yourself and that puppy of yours. Let me worry about the rest. Tomorrow you need to go see Lynn about getting the chat interface.”

“The what?”

“It’s a qi-tech implant we all have. Well, everyone except Doc. It’s convenient, and gives the team a tactical advantage on comms. Lynn will explain the details. I’ll let her know you’re coming by.”

There were a thousand more questions rolling around in Eli’s head right now, but he’d had as much as he could process for one day. Time to go back and get some rest. He finished off his beer and stood.

“Alright. Thanks, Bataar. I just wanted to let you know I decided to stay. I’m gonna head back to my room and get some sleep.”

Bataar stood up and held out a hand. “Welcome to the team, kid.”

Eli took shook his hand and winced at the bone crushing grip. It was obvious Bataar wasn’t trying to show off or intimidate him. The guy was just that strong. Eli made a conscious effort not to shake his hand in pain as he withdrew and stepped off the porch.

“Oh, and kid!” Bataar called as Eli reached the end of the driveway.

“Yeah?”

“You don’t need to stay in that room at the lodge anymore. Pick out a cabin to live in tomorrow. Any of the unoccupied ones are fine. Make yourself at home.”

“Thank you!” Eli smiled as he turned back to his walk.

It would sure be nice to have a home.