“Are you awake?”

  Kanuk’s words greeted Tsem as he woke up alongside a crackling fire in the night. His surroundings were familiar, and after a moment, he recognized the spot as his initial camp in the basin. Tsem moved his neck around, embarrassed to think of what he knew would be in the trees. He’d really built a nest there, like an actual bird.

  It was gone now though, along with a dozen other reminders of what he’d been through. Tsem looked to his friend to thank him, for that and so much more. He didn’t know what to say, to do, but before he could do anything, Kanuk gave a simple shrug. It was the kind of shared moment that clearly held more emotion than his friend was willing to let on. Kanuk had put his own life on the line, invading his core and pulling him back from the impossible. He’d saved his life, his very self, and here he was, still wanting Tsem to treat him like a brother. That was going to hard to do. It was going to be hard not to see him as a hero or a savior.

  Tsem moved his wings slightly. His chest and back were bare. Even if his hunting leathers hadn’t been torn to shreds from his initial transformation—which they definitely had been—his wings made sure he’d never be able to wear them again. Fortunately, his bottom half had somehow survived.

  Knowing Kanuk didn’t want any big displays of gratitude, Tsem shook his head at his friend. “Guess I’ll be sleeping on my stomach from now on.” Barely a joke, but it was tricky breaking the ice after being saved like this.

  Kanuk gave him a look, nodding his head. “I’d say so. Yeah. Think you can fly?”

  Tsem considered that for a moment, awkwardly flapping his wings. He had some idea of how to use them, just like any firstborn had some idea how to move their fingers. The wings were a part of him, sure, but he didn’t have much confidence in actually flying. Unless that was, he burned qi in his wing meridian.

  That was easily the weirdest part of his changes, weirder even than the wings themselves, the extra meridian. People had twelve meridians that was it. Now, Tsem had thirteen. He had to wonder if he could really call himself properly human anymore.

  Overall, Tsem had regressed slightly in his cultivation from the sudden transformation into a werebeast and even more from his gradual recovery. The experience hadn’t been good for his body and the fourth meridian he’d been clearing, one which he vaguely remembered being nearly purified, was clogged thicker than ever with impurities. His wing meridian, a wider channel than any of the others was completely clear though. He didn’t feel any stronger for that though, it was probably just the wings that benefitted, not that he knew what they would have felt like without the meridian open.

  Seeing the contemplation on Tsem’s face, Kanuk held up a hand. For a moment, the pair stopped, and the night provided a deep beat around them, the fool’s whisper dragging their attention incessantly towards the top of the nearby ruins. The hand dropped. “Before you answer, know that we’re forbidden from going near ruins by the clan. If you can fly us out, you’ll need to do that.”

  The rest went unsaid, and Tsem shared in his friend’s conspirational look. “I don’t think I can do it.” He wasn’t just saying that, at least not entirely. Even being honest, Tsem really didn’t know if he could manage flight, particularly if he was carrying Kanuk as well. “We’ll have to see if we can find another way out.”

  Kanuk nodded before pulling a manual he’d been reading up for Tsem to see. It was his cultivation manual. His friend must have been reading it. He handed it over, pointing out a section for Tsem to see. It was just a bit of smudged ink. From what he could remember, it had always been there. Tsem looked to his friend in confusion.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  “The user should consume two-week aged demonic beast meat cooked with the following instructions.” Kanuk recited the passage with a tone that spoke of memorization. Of course, Tsem had memorized everything in his cultivation manual as well, only there was something different in that phrase. Tsem looked back down.

  Two-week aged. The smudge had said two-week aged. Tsem could only laugh at himself now. This was what he’d nearly died for. Before he’d ever read it, he must have smudged the words. It wasn’t even hard to believe. He’d been living and traveling near the stream the entire time when he’d first been given the manual. All it would have taken was the tiniest bit of water on a finger, the tiniest drag of an overeager hand across the words.

  Kanuk shrugged his shoulders again. “What’s done is done. Cultivators like us should always look ahead.”

  Tsem nodded, knowing his friend was burying a serious lecture. He was grateful, he didn’t need it. He knew already that he’d been far too reckless, even discounting the smudged manual, he shouldn’t have ignored the signs that something was wrong.

  Tsem pulled his wings out to their full length, testing them, and something in Kanuk’s face twitched, small but there. It was easy to see that the wings weren’t exactly going to make him many friends going forward. Even Kanuk, who was resisting the urge to react, who knew exactly what had happened was visibly thrown. That was another reason to stay here for the time being. Tsem didn’t want to return to the city. He’d have to eventually, but for now, he’d prefer not to have to face that.

  “If you can’t fly, we’ll have to take on the ruins.”

  Tsem agreed, happy for the distraction from any thoughts of later repercussions. He folded his wings back against his spine where they rested comfortably. Pacing around and stretching to get a feel for the change in his balance, Tsem brought his friend up to speed about the tiled entrance room, the cranks at the end, and the skeletal monsters that burst from the tiles in waves.

  Kanuk grimaced at the information, thinking beside their fire and roasting demonic beast meat—thankfully not ghalri raptor. Tsem knew he had to eat, and he knew he’d struggle to find enough without indulging in demonic beast meat again, but some part of him rebelled at the idea. There was a fear in him now. With the qi that had flowed from Kanuk had come memories of what jing was, and Tsem knew firsthand how bad the consequences were if he made mistakes.

  Logically, just eating regular, untreated demonic beast meat was no problem. Even the treated stuff his cultivation method called for shouldn’t be a problem so long as he kept to aged meat and stopped consuming the fresh stuff. That didn’t help much with the crater of fear that sat burrowed in his chest. Losing yourself, having your body wrenched from your own control, it was a worse feeling than anything imaginable. Tsem had to anchor himself again, so many things just felt…less stable now, less certain.

  They didn’t do anything that night, just resting and planning. Tsem did take the opportunity to get washed up in the water falling from the river-stream above. His body was mostly back to his usual self, but some few feathers were still attached to him and Tsem made a point of pulling them clear. He also took the time to wash his wings off, an awkward affair that had him bending in a dozen different directions before he figured out an effective way to keep his wings stable in front of him so he could scrub them down.

  When he got back to the fire, Kanuk handed him some toughened bread from his pack. Tsem gratefully took it, chastising himself for not at least trying to eat the demonic beast meat. The longer he waited, the harder it would be to overcome that fear. He just couldn’t make himself open his mouth to say so though, even knowing his future cultivation was at stake.

  The next day was spent in preparation, mostly in sparring. Tsem stumbled over his own feet at first, having to relearn his balance for every movement he made. His wings, even designed as they were to not create drag for him as he moved, weighed him down.

  Eventually, after being put in the dirt by Kanuk for the thirtieth time or so, Tsem changed his approach, raising his wings up and out. The change was immediate. He could aid some of the sharper turns in his spear work with a flap of one of his wings, or a simple tilt. He could even use them to redirect himself in the air, making jump attacks seemingly a far better option.

  Of course, having his wings out wasn’t always viable. He’d heard people describe their outstretched arms as a wingspan before, but clearly those people had never met someone with a real pair of wings. Fully extended, his wings were nearly half again the length of his arm on either side, and unlike his arms, they often were fully extended in combat, frequently smacking against tree branches or even trunks he wouldn’t normally have to think to avoid.

  As they fought, Kanuk made his own suggestions, and fighting with the wings soon felt, if not quite simple, at least feasible. In time, Tsem knew he’d run into more significant problems. He had to imagine that finding a martial manual that would synergize with his wings was going to be a nightmare, and that wasn’t even mentioning the impossibility he’d have in finding anyone who could actually train him. He might have as much luck going in search of a bewinged divine beast as he would with a human teacher. Kanuk had to keep reminding him it wasn’t all bad, he’d probably find further uses for the wings in combat eventually. What those might be though, neither of them could guess at.

  For now, Tsem felt like they weren’t going to hold him back too much, at least less than when they’d started practicing. As night set again, he was optimistic he’d be able to contribute in some way to their climb through the ruins. He looked at the three stories with concern, reassuring himself that Kanuk was here now. They’d be able to make it to the top. They’d make it, and they’d surely discover some clue as to what was waiting for them, what had been calling for them all this time. Morning would tell.