87th of Season of Air, 58th year of the 32nd cycle

  Newt sat in his practice room in the Chamber of Runes. He could not tell when he started enjoying examining spell formations, due to his unique realm layout the activity felt nearly identical to cultivation, and as his understanding grew, so did his potential.

  Even with Dandelion designing the exact blueprint, understanding what he had done and why was also an important part of Newt’s cultivation. He was slowly making his way through spell formations fit for fourth realm cultivators, but like all things in cultivation, the higher the realm, the wider the field became.

  The spell formation he was studying would have been a great treasure a year ago. It explained how to change the ambient spiritual energy’s attribute from earth to fire. While he no longer planned to have anything similar within his realm, the mysteries behind the energy conversion were fascinating in their own right.

  A sudden knock pulled Newt’s mind back towards the material world.

  “Yes?”

  “Senior Apprentice Brother Newstar, your guest requests a meeting with you.”

  Finally. Newt stood and left the chamber.

  “Thank you.”

  Despite his impatience, Newt did not expect Dandelion would finish his task so quickly. Just drawing the blueprint must have taken days, and yet he managed to finish the entire job in less than two moons.

  Compared to him, Newt was much slower. It had taken him two days just to push Elder Woodhopper out of his mind and focus on work.

  A week later, when he went to visit his friends again and confirmed that Obi indeed had a new girlfriend, he thought it was unfair. A rational part of him knew that Obi courting a woman his own realm and approximate age was different from his crush, but it still made him feel bitter.

  Then he learned Obi and her had both failed their trial, and it reinforced what Elder Woodhopper had said — you can have one or the other. Never both.

  He also learned that Emeraldstreak had placed second, by climbing the tower for six days. That news cemented Newt’s belief that the woman was crazy, or driven, as elders would probably call her condition.

  Then again, Newt could also be called crazy, spending weeks studying, pausing only to eat from time to time. And he looked forward to Dandelion’s blueprint almost as much as he looked forward to a letter from his parents. Possibly more.

  Newt’s steps faltered when he realized he cared about the blueprint more than about a word from his parents.

  When did I become like this? Why did I become like this?

  Newt continued towards Dandelion’s lodgings considering those questions, but found no answers.

  When he reached the humble building made of planks, Dandelion was already waiting.

  “Come in, Newt.”

  Newt entered the building, and Dandelion’s ridiculous defensive spell formation sprang to life as soon as the door closed and completed the frail circuit.

  “Members of your sect have spied on me seven times.” Newt almost jumped, but Dandelion placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “I was developing the blueprint inside my realm, so other than me sitting still, they had little to see. They gave up after two weeks of seeing me meditate constantly—”

  The barrier burst.

  “Thank you for your concern, Senior, we are fine, there is no reason for worry,” Dandelion said without hesitation, and the spell formation sprang back to life.

  “I think they are trying to crack the spell formation, but that’s exactly the problem. Cracking it causes it to collapse. Anyway, I have completed what I promised I would do.” Dandelion showed the pile of papers on the table stunning Newt. He had expected ten sheets at most, since his previous realm blueprint was four pages of intricately drawn spell formations. A hundred and twenty lay on the table, at the very least.

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  “Please refrain from having a stroke.” Dandelion chuckled. “I have disguised the blueprint. Only the top part of the paper is important, the rest is random rambling on spell formations. That is not to say my rambling is useless, you should read it, it should help you advance your knowledge on spell formations, but the real message is hidden.”

  Dandelion gathered the papers and handed them to Newt.

  “The pages are numbered, but I did not bind them into a book, for ease of use. I must warn you though, that this is probably not the most optimal realm blueprint. The highest grade of spell formations I can master at our realm is the sixth. If you want to wait for some three hundred years, I can deliver a much better piece. At least twenty percent more efficient.”

  Newt gawked, and Dandelion burst into laughter.

  “I knew you would react that way. I agree with you wholeheartedly, wasting three centuries and your potential is not worth the improvement you may or may not be able to put into practice. Why the long face? You cannot seriously tell me you are disappointed.”

  Newt shook his head.

  “No, it’s not that. I’m seriously considering waiting for three centuries for those improvements. It might be worth it.”

  “Newstar, look at me.” Dandelion squeezed Newt’s shoulder, and the youth raised his gaze to meet his big brother’s. “Time waits for no man. Your sect might get destroyed tomorrow, others might learn of your secrets and start hounding you. Spiritual energy itself may fail. Every bit of strength you can have you seize. Now.”

  He slapped the stack of papers.

  “This here will already make you one of the strongest third realmers. On par with the royals probably. There is a theoretical draft for the fourth realm blueprint you can make yourself. Should something happen, and I am unavailable or unable to make a better blueprint than what I have, use it, improve on it. I know you can do it. Trust me. You are a star.”

  For some reason, Newt did not like Dandelion’s forced smile. There was sorrow in the man’s eyes he did not understand.

  Suddenly Dandelion clipped him on the back of the head.

  “No need to look at me like that. I intend to lead a long and happy life, trying to reach immortality. But I may not always be within reach. If I hear your sect is in danger or something, I will help as much as I can. And I promise to write from time to time.”

  The promise did not seem to help Newt, but Dandelion waited in silence, armed with patience.

  “Big brother,” Newt hesitated, and Dandelion remained silent, letting his friend sculpt his thoughts into words. “What’s the point?”

  Dandelion’s lip twitched into an ugly half-smile.

  “What is the point of what?”

  “Cultivation.”

  “Ah, that one is easy. The point of cultivation is to challenge the heavens, to fight against fate and mortality and to become master of oneself by creating an inner realm which houses our essence and reflects our being.”

  Newt blinked.

  “That would be the compilation of all the decent definitions I have read on the subject. If you are asking what I personally believe, I would say cultivation is a tool. A tool often misused.”

  Newt furrowed his brows, trying to keep up.

  “A tool? What sort of tool?”

  “Well, you could call it a tool of the soul, but that is of lesser importance. The more important question is what is the tool meant for.”

  “And what is it meant for?” Newt’s eyes burned with his yearning to get the answer.

  “To realize ourselves. To help us become more real. I even think it was originally a tool meant to achieve happiness and unity with the world, but we have gone astray, made it foul, or maybe humanity never walked that path to begin with. I cannot say for certain, you can never trust history.”

  Newt did not understand, and Dandelion only smirked.

  “What is the cause of your doubt? You certainly have found your path, follow it. All doubt should disperse as long as you stay true to yourself.”

  “But what about love, friendship, family?”

  Dandelion shrugged. “You and I are friends. Should you die tomorrow and there is nothing I can do about it, you will be my dear friend who passed away tragically. I know you would feel the same sentiment about me should I die, and I hope you try to help me if I am facing a lethal threat, assuming you are not throwing your life away by getting involved.”

  Newt once more gawked, wondering whether Dandelion had gone mad to broach such inauspicious subjects like common topics.

  “Family and love are the same. I am a poor advisor on such matters, but someone very dear to me, someone I loved more than life itself, told me you should learn to let go. To accept loss and move on. I could not, would not.” A self-deprecating laugh escaped Dandelion, his eyes focused on some distant place. “I do not believe I will ever reach the point where I can move on. To not give my all, when I know I can do better.”

  He shook his head, and sanity returned to him.

  “I must apologize. I will only give you poor advice on this subject. Maybe you should talk with one of your elders, someone you can trust. My advice remains the same as what I told you back at the Black Fist Gate. You are young, you lack life experience, if it does not affect your cultivation, drink, eat, fornicate, drown yourself in sin from time to time, for without sin you will only see one facet of life.”

  Dandelion roared a laugh. “My advice is horrible. Your elders will probably tell you to shut yourself in a cave and cultivate, as you should.”

  Something was strange about Dandelion, but Newt could not figure out what. The elder man noticed the questioning gaze and grew serious.

  “I apologize, I have spent too much time locked up in here, perfecting the manuscript. I best get going.”