Lunar Fever: The moon variant of qi-sickness, this illness expresses the typical signs of fever, lack of appetite, and qi-disturbance are, of course, present. Lunar Fever expresses itself uniquely however in the fitful sleeps it imposes on its victims. In my experience, the dreams the victims experience can range all the way between prophecy and madness, though more of the latter than the former. – From “Expeditions in Medicine: A Doctor’s Evaluation”

* * *

“These are the finest mooncaps I’ve ever seen!” Zhao exclaimed for the sixth time since we’d returned to her, arms laden with as many mushrooms as we could carry. Even Chiho had skewered one and carried it along to add to Zhao’s sack. “We’ll be able to make medicine for the entire village and then some! I’ll have to send word to the other villages that we have a surplus!”

I couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm as we walked towards the cave entrance. We were deep underground, and we passed several dead monsters along the way with vines and small roots holding them in death’s embrace. It was a shame I couldn’t see how much qi remained in the corpses at my current advancement. It would have been nice to judge just how skilled Tenri was at fighting based on the corpses left in his wake.

He was a concern. He was clearly capable, but he was still only Bronze. As an Ascendent, I’d interposed a reality where I was free of the labyrinth. That reality was anchored on Tenri, and, if he were to have his core injured or worse, I honestly wasn’t sure what would happen to me. Would my reality fizzle out? Would I be sucked back into the labyrinth? I didn’t know, and I didn’t want to find out. Even now, just thinking about my prison, the whispers of its walls clawed at the edges of my mind. I pushed these and all thoughts of that horrible place away.

Instead, I focused on the smell of salt water. The air was humid, and I could hear the waves lapping against stone not far away.

“Maybe we should tell the other villages about the cave?” Zhao continued. “If we hadn’t stumbled upon it, we might not have enough mushrooms. They could harvest their own.”

Alarm filled me, but I held my tongue. The last thing I needed was more people searching the cave and finding the labyrinth. No doubt my captors had kept it secret from the world, and if they found out that it was found, they would come to investigate. If they found me outside its walls…

“No, it’s better if fewer people know,” Tenri answered, allowing me to relax. “There were many monsters. I wouldn’t want any of the locals to underestimate the threat and die for their efforts. Better they come to us for the supply.” Zhao looked crestfallen, but, in the end, she nodded.

“Brother Tenri is quite wise.” Though her words were respectful, there was just the slightest hint of sarcasm to them. Tenri noticed as well and rolled his eyes in exasperation.

“Thank you, Meimei,” he said. She scowled at the affectionate title. I wondered if they were related. Given the veneration given to cultivators worldwide, I could see it, even if it felt strange for a sibling to refer to their own blood by their surname. Perhaps a childhood friend or cousin?

We walked further, until the cave opening revealed the sea splayed out before us. The waves were illuminated with a silver light that made my heart skip a beat, and I couldn’t stop myself from brushing past Tenri and Zhao and sprinting for the entrance.

I turned my head skyward, only to find blue-tinted trees blocking the sky directly above. I scowled and leapt at the rocky wall. Never in all my years did I climb so fast, not even as a Moonstone Artist at the height of the Refining Stage climbing the peaks of the Dawn Mountain. In a handful of breaths, I was at the top, frantically searching for a clearing, a break in the trees, anything that would let me see the sky.

Finally, I spotted a shimmering rock shining silver in the moonlight. I ran to it and found myself in a clearing. High above, the full moon shone down on me for the first time in an age.

“Greetings once more, other half of my soul,” I whispered. It was scarred with a great slashed chasm across the center, but even with the devastation, I could not think of anything more beautiful in all of history…

Instinctively, I began to draw in the aura of the moon shining down on me, turning it to qi, and letting it radiate through my body. At once, I felt restored, renewed after a thousand thousand moons apart.

“Does the moon seem brighter to you tonight?” Zhao asked, shading her eyes from its light. “I was almost worried we’d spent the whole night underground without realizing.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Tenri answered, though the eyes drilling into my back suggested he knew otherwise. To me, though, it looked as bright as it always had, and I considered myself an expert.

Tenri stepped closer and put a hand on my shoulder. When he spoke again, it was a hushed and whispered tone.

“Your hair is shining,” he murmured.

“It does that in the moonlight,” I answered casually. “One cannot be the Avatar of the Moon without taking on some of its qualities.”

“Like madness?” he hissed, irritation rising. I flinched and scowled at him.

“Are you trying to make a point, Tenri?”

“Moon Artists aren’t welcome in the Shores,” he explained. “As long as you’re here, you should at least try to blend in.”

I sighed and stood. “Fine. I’ll stay out of the moonlight when others are watching. Do you have a hat?” Tenri shook his head.

“I have one at home you can have.”

I bowed in thanks, even if I felt more like punching him for the mere suggestion that I deny my precious moon. Why were moon artists unwelcome? It wasn’t like our aura was any more inherently dangerous than any other. Even within the Celestial Cycle, the grouping of natural auras influenced by the celestial heavens, moon wasn’t the most powerful nor the most dangerous. Surely sun artists and especially void artists would be more dangerous than a moon artist…or, at least, on average. Anyone could be dangerous with any aura, so long as they knew how to properly use it.

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

The two led the way along a narrow game trail. All the while, Zhao continued sneaking glances at me, trying to discretely examine my hair under the dappled moonlight filtering from the branches above. I didn’t stop her. Though Tenri hadn’t told her my true identity, there was no hiding my nature from her. Before we left the forest, she’d been sworn to secrecy.

The trees thinned out to reveal a village spread out across the seashore. From where we stood upon a hill, I could see everything. The village could have easily supported a thousand people, possibly more. Beyond the village was a coral reef illuminated by all manner of luminescent fish and stones beneath the waters.

Before I could look any further, however, a heavy cloth unceremoniously dropped on my head. I fished for the edge and lifted it to find Tenri sighing and wiping his glasses on a sleeve.

“What was that for?” I grumbled. Zhao was stifling giggles behind me, and I sighed. They must really fear moon artists here…

The three of us walked through the well-swept streets of the village my companions called Saikan. It was a quaint village, and I had no doubt that the streets would be bustling during the height of the day, but, at this time, we didn’t encounter a single other soul. That, of course, meant that the cloth over my head was rendered entirely pointless, a fact which made me exceptionally grumpy. Even Chiho was fidgeting under the sheet by the time we reached a small home in the center of town.

“Meimei, would you want to spend the night?” asked Tenri. Zhao shook her head.

“I’ll make it home from here. You already have a guest in your home tonight. Just tell my sister I said hello,” she answered before bowing deeply at the waist. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Master Tsuyuki. Should you require treatment of any sort, please don’t hesitate to call on this humble apothecary at her clinic.”

I bowed my head in return. “I will, thank you.”

Then, she hoisted her bag of mushrooms on her shoulders and set off further down the street. Tenri watched her until she rounded the corner and disappeared from view. Then, he turned and opened the door to his home.

“Please, come in.” Tenri stepped into the building, and I followed, pulling the cloth free of my hair inside the building. As soon as it was free, Chiho zipped out and angrily darted around Tenri’s head, trilling and whining at the younger cultivator.

“Chiho,” I chastised, but the little jade crane was not to be ignored.

“What is this thing?” Tenri wondered, swatting at Chiho as if it were an annoying fly. At that, Chiho regrouped, before diving straight at Tenri’s head. The cultivator yelped slightly and ducked out of the way before the jade pin could take out his eye.

“Chiho is upset at being covered,” I explained. “Just apologize and it will calm down.”

“Apologize to a hairpin?!”

“Just do it!” Chiho was winding up for another angry dive. Tenri cleared his throat and quickly bowed.

“Great Chiho, I apologize for the insult. I did not mean to hide your beauty, simply your master’s power. You are a truly magnificent piece of craftsmanship, and I should like to make it up to you,” he said sincerely.

Immediately, Chiho stopped its frenzied dive, instead making a cheerful trill and nuzzling Tenri before zipping back to my side. However, it did not settle into my hair, instead resting on my shoulder and trilling softly. No doubt it was upset at the loose tail and disheveled strands left behind by the cloth.

“Lin? Is that you?” called another voice from around a corner. A moment later, a lovely woman who had the same cheerful smile lines as Zhao entered the quaint room.

“Tsuyuki, this is my wife, Hanako,” Tenri introduced. I bowed respectfully. “Hanako, this is Tsuyuki Yoru, a wandering cultivator who helped us gather mushrooms.”

Her eyes flicked between me and Tenri before settling on his injuries. Though he wasn’t bleeding anymore, he had still received a nasty bite from one of the spirit bats.

“Allow me to make tea, and I’ll stitch up your wound, husband,” she insisted. “Master Tsuyuki, are you injured? I can help.”

I shook my head and smiled. “No, ma’am. I fear I arrived late to the battle and only finished the beasts off after your husband weakened them.” Tenri raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue with my retelling.

“I see,” she said before smiling politely. “Please, have a seat, I’ll be right back.”

She gestured to a few cushions surrounding a small table before rushing away. I looked around. The home was spacious, if sparsely decorated. The Tenri household clearly had some status within town to be able to live in this kind of dwelling, but the lack of expensive decorations spoke to their preferred lifestyle. That made sense to me, as many cultivators were not keen on the more frivolous aspects of life. It was a silly notion as far as I was concerned. Choosing to live in comfort with pretty things around didn’t make you any less of a cultivator, nor any less powerful when the battle came.

“We have a spare room,” Tenri began. “You can spend the night, but I recommend you leave in the morning.”

I was careful to keep the disappointment from my face. Of course he wouldn’t want the infamous Darkened Moon around. I was a walking bad omen, but I couldn’t leave. He was the anchor keeping me out of prison, and that meant I had to keep him out of harm’s way if I was to continue enjoying my freedom.

Hanako returned a moment later with a plate bearing several cups and a teapot. Ever the image of the dutiful wife, at least when company was present, she then began tending to Tenri’s injuries. It was clear that she was a skilled herbalist from the technique with which she cleaned the blood away and applied a disinfecting poultice.

He may have been a cultivator, but Tenri was still only Bronze. It was the lowest stage of those commonly considered cultivators. Though he’d gone through all the levels of the Manifestation Stage, and did have a sturdier body than mortals, he was still fragile by comparison to those at higher tiers. If given the choice, I’d have bound myself to someone at least of the Iron stage.

As soon as the thought entered my mind, I dismissed it and drank my tea. I didn’t have a choice. Beggars can’t be choosers.

“No, I should like to remain in town for a time,” I answered. “I shall not darken your door, if you don’t wish it, but I will not leave you undefended.”

“Undefended? I’m Bronze! I can take care of myself!” He all but leapt to his feet with the protests, earning him a smack from his wife who was trying to bandage his shoulder.

“Settle down! Your parents are asleep, and I’m trying to fix your arm!” she hissed. He settled down sheepishly. With his free hand, he pushed his glasses up his nose.

“I am the strongest cultivator in Saikan,” he began more calmly. “I can take care of the town.” I raised an eyebrow. In the cave, he’d said he was the only cultivator. Being the strongest by virtue of being the only one wasn’t quite the same as actually being the strongest.

I was pondering my answer to his childishness when Hanako spoke up again. “Shen’s forces have many cultivators, some even at Iron.”

“Not now, Hanako,” Tenri sighed. “You don’t understand just how much misfortune this cultivator could bring.”

“He is but one cultivator.”

“He’s a moon artist.”

“And they’re not thought highly of, I know.” I had to resist the urge to roll my eyes. “But I shall do my very best to be discrete, you have my word.”