The rain fell steadily as Chún stumbled from the hidden mouth of his Immortal's Cave. He pushed through the Heaven and Earth vine with listless hands, wet leaves clinging to his sleeves and skin.
Water-aspected Essence mist curled and bobbed around him as he trudged across the clearing, heedless of his sodden clothes. His hair hung limp across his eyes, obscuring his vision—yet he made no move to brush it aside.
He crossed into the dim forest, wrapped in the scent of wet earth and composting leaves. The canopy shielded him from the rain, but every few steps a 'tree-shower' spilled onto his shoulders, soaking him anew.
Head bowed, he walked until he struck a tree trunk. The impact toppled him into a heap at its base.
"Ai… stupid place for a wooden wall… oh. A tree. Good place for it then—in the forest. Heh… aiya… ai…"
His mirthless chuckle broke into a quiet sob. Rain streaked his cheeks—if there were tears too, none could say.
Eventually, the rain eased. Grey light filtered through the canopy, hinting it was only a pause. Chún rubbed his eyes with a damp sleeve, blew his nose on a fallen leaf, and leaned back against the trunk.
"I am alone again… what now?" Years of self-reliance steadied him as the shock ebbed. He spoke aloud, counting off what he had.
"So… perhaps I am a Cultivator now, but I do not know how to cultivate. My Teacher is gone. I have shelter, but no food—just a few withered apples. No tools, no weapons—not unless I count a rope and a stick. Barely any clothes—and I have soaked this set through."
He thumped his head gently against the tree, sighed, and scratched his scalp.
"I could go back to the village. That way—twenty li, if the Mountain does not lie. So I am not lost… how odd."
The realisation—that he knew exactly where he was, and how to return to the cave or the village—calmed him. The panic clawing at his chest subsided.
"...but there is nothing for me there. If I showed up like this—no. I would rather stay here with the Essence beasts."
The thought steadied him. It felt right. "Yes, this will work. I can forage. That berry bush—five paces. Wild onions, there. That giant vine over the cave bears fruit… Teacher said it was good stuff."
Muttering, Chún rose to his feet, drifting this way and that to pluck edible plants as if browsing a market stall.
"I will dry my clothes at the cave. No fire needed—the hot spring's enough to boil them… eh?"
He stared at a yaro tuber he'd just unearthed from behind a boulder—without meaning to.
"How did I know that was here…?"
Now that he noticed, he was aware of every edible plant within half a li. He sensed a wild hive in a tree—ten paces east, five up. A stream, a hundred paces west—its Water Essence movements, the flickers of fish and aquatic life—all whispered through his senses.
"Those bees are Essence-touched. Bad idea to bother them. But Essence-infused honey would be worth..."
He sat down on the boulder, clutching his gleanings.
"My sense of Essence has never been this precise."
He closed his eyes and reached out. No longer chaos—only vibrant colour and musical resonance. Every object sang in harmony. Beneath it all, a deep, contented purr that rumbled in his bones.
He was being watched… no, watched over.
A concept formed: ageless presence. Immeasurable.
Chún breathed the words:
"Honoured Mountain."
The Mountain laughed—not in sound, but in quiet amusement.
"You are showing me what I need. Why?"
A wash of memory—not his. Quiet songs, day after day, sung to the Mountain. Awareness rising. Then joy—pure Essence—as it Awakened and bonded.
"That wave… just before I fell unconscious. I am part of you now, am I not?"
A warm pulse of reassurance answered him.
"Thank you. I think I have enough food now. I will go back to the cave."
The awareness receded. Only the sense of direction remained.
"Ah… thank you. I suppose I am not alone after all."
He bundled his gleanings in his shirt, tying it into a makeshift sack, and began the walk back.
His spirits lifted with the scent of rain-damp earth and fresh air. Birds chattered and sang above. For the first time in days, he smiled.
He was free. And had a Mountain for a… friend?
A quiet ripple of amusement answered him.
Without realising it, he sang:
The birds live free
The same as me;
The food grows wild
On the Mountain mild.
A place for all the creatures free,
A place for me.
A sudden pressure from behind—
His instincts dropped him low as something flashed past his shoulder. A yelp—then a crash as the beast struck a tree.
It snarled and sprang. Chún flinched—
—then the earth erupted.
Vines, branches, roots exploded from the earth and trees, striking the beast mid-air. It cried out—impaled—then fell silent.
Chún stared at the remains. The wood crumbled to dust beneath his fingers.
He scrambled back, wide-eyed, from the panther's corpse—blood oozing from five deep punctures.
"All the gods… what just happened?"
Memory replayed, but not from his own eyes. He saw himself walking, ripples of Essence trailing behind… then the panther leaping. His body had surged with Essence, moving fast.
A blast of Essence had surged from him into the land—commanding it to defend.
The plants had obeyed.
A final pulse of dark red Essence soaked into the soil. The foliage strengthened, then withered as it exhausted the energy he had given.
Chún blinked. An Essence Stone glowed faintly in the panther's skull.
"Mountain? Was that you…?"
A flash of exasperation. Then: no.
The memory replayed: he had done it.
"You could have warned me."
The feeling that returned was: you were not a threat.
"Not to you… to me. Ai. I am not a Mountain—too subtle by half. I hope you realise that, or you may crush me without meaning to…"
He retrieved his shirt-sack, dusted himself off, and shook his head.
"I fought an Essence beast. With Dao techniques. Like a story. And lived."
He laughed—relieved, a little hysterical—and poked the corpse.
"Essence beast meat, bones, fur… and a Stone. But no blade. Mountain—any help?"
Confusion.
"I need something sharp—like a knife or flint."
A memory surfaced: a stony field, fifty li away—flint scattered everywhere.
"...Not helpful. Not now."
But what if… Essence?
He imagined dressing a carcass, as he had seen the village butcher do.
Essence surged. The skin split. Blood and entrails slid into the earth. No mess. No scent trail.
He peeled the hide in a single sweep, laid out the meat and organs in careful order, and separated the limbs into balanced bundles.
Opening his eyes, he exhaled. A noble's meal—and a glowing Essence Stone.
He bundled the meat in the pelt, tied it with vines, and hoisted both loads onto his back.
The panther was not as heavy as expected—blood and entrails gone.
"No more Essence beasts lying in wait, Senior?"
A feeling of nothing dangerous nearby returned.
Relieved, Chún quickened his pace, humming faintly.
Perhaps things would be all right after all.
Behind him, the clearing pulsed with fresh growth, Essence motes rising like stars from the soil.