"Brothers and sisters, I greet you upon humble sky. Upon this imitation that we all wish may come true in the future. I greet you as Lukho of the Dried Sea, a fellow struggler on the ascent towards great Sky. I don't stand alone in front of you, as you see. Dawn welcomes us to its embrace, the Silver Cloud here to protect and the Quiet Ocean blesses us with its wisdom. And last, but not least among us, from the seat of the empire, welcomed by the south's Shifting Sands, sister Asanda stands as one of us," the welcome speech had drawn eyes and ears aplenty, the persistent whisperers would need more reason to quell their fidgeting but he had the majority listening, he boldly carried on.
"Nearly a month we've been here, waxing and waning with the moon, changing from moral practitioners to ravenous animals hounding our own. I know why you seek the shelter of the mass, I know why you claw at fellow practitioners you've shared bread and water with," he was well in the mood now, walking to and fro in front of those gathered here, looking them in the eyes. "You're looking for something to make all this worth something, not only the time spent here but the decision to be here at all. It hasn't been for nothing, there's one thing that we've all overlooked."
Lukho took five steps forward, separating himself from the others and scooped up a handful of that dense liquid, "Here is where our answers lie. We are right to call this body hallowed, but we have been wrong in assuming what it's for."
"And what is it for?" Someone in the crowd hackled.
"We stand far below venerate Sky, at the gates of refinement, body and soul. Why don't we refine what's in front of us?" The susurrus returned at that, refining foreign chi through one's body was a cautious affair, but no one had been able to identify the property of the water below them. "One last bold stroke my sisters and brothers, then we may return to our sects with our tails between our legs." He'd as good as called them cowards with that, but a slap in the face was a quicker way to get a reaction than cajoling to no end. Lukho turned to his conspirators, silently inviting them to be the bond that seals the deal and to his rising anxiety, they acquiesced. The Dawn turned towards the edge of the pond and sat down his mat and sat cross-legged at it's banks ready to begin. Other members of the Dawn sect followed the action and quite soon it spread to others as well.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
***
After the ruinous reign of the third empire, when the self proclaimed sun god Tshaka ruled, the practitioners of the continent of Nyanga looked at the aftermath of the hundred years war and knew they needed change. One of the more significant needs for change were the multitude of dead young practitioners, prodigies and prospects dead by the thousands. It was a chilling thing for sect masters and mistresses to lose children they loved and cared for to a war that many were too young to know what it was they were fighting and dying for. Power corrupts all, but when accompanied with the arrogance of youth it became something far more volatile.
It was decided, then, that a more mature mind was needed to understand the power that one holds, with the hope that one's life experiences would help inform them in their decisions. The first step in the ascent was a natural awakening, any who applied themselves either to physical or mental improvement of any kind would step onto that road without help, with reflection as the key to that lock. The true ascent would start from the second decade of life, from there a practitioner would begin learning to bend nature to their will, harnessing chi into a reflection of their soul. There were contentions to the rule, surely, but the benefits a practitioner gained from wielding chi usurped the very rules that governed mortal life, and there was no greater victory than the one over time.
It was practitioners of such an age sitting at the banks of the pond, refining the liquid in front of them. To each and every one of them it felt like walking across a pit of mud. Every cycle was a foot dragged through effort, steady control like a hefty recompense of a shoe left behind; it was exhausting to keep focused, to keep going, but continue they must.
Refining chi was not a laborious concept, it was soothing and calming when done right, but not all chi sources were the same. Chi stones differed in concentration, depending on where they've been sourced, with more concentrated stones lasting longer and giving more volume to the practitioner. An ascender would have to deal with the volume either by gorging on the chi to not waste it but having to refine it again and again to remove impurities or by nibbling at it and working with the amounts they can manage but losing a noticeable amount of the volume. No one method was perfect.
As the different sect members went through these methods there was a visible change going on around them. As the chi in the pond was too dense in volume for any of their capabilities to handle it was being eaten by the jungle around them, feeding the dormant wildlife as it grew excited at what it received, seeming to go back to where it belongs. As that happened sounds came back to the forest, rumblings of stone breaking through the earth, and around humble sky beaming faces. Vigor anew! This is the treasure hunt they had hoped for.