"Firstly, we shall use our full names to reinforce the binding ritual," I imparted dramatically. “What’s your full divine-song-name, by the way?”

“Aria Anna Executor of Men and Order,” the highborn echoed.

I glanced at Celes.

“Celesteel Radiance is Eternal,” she sang slowly for me and Arianna.

“Gotcha.” I nodded. “Secondly, we shall not swear upon Lord Boundless for our pact.”

"Whom are we swearing upon then?” Arianna curiously inquired.

“We shall swear upon the aforementioned arcane power utilized by the ancients!” I announced. “...Follow my lead!”

I stood up, propped up by Celes and started to sing-speak, pushing Qi into my every word with conviction.

"I am [Ash Sparks at the Convergence of Deathstorm]!” I sang. “Hereby, I swear upon the Scientific Method, to share the secret of my arcane power with [Aria Anna Executor of Men and Order] in exchange for: friendship and protection of myself and [Celesteel Radiance is Eternal] by [Aria Anna Executor of Men and Order]! Let my song be bound with the power of my Qi. Let my Qi stop my heart if I do not fulfill my part of the binding pact!”

I watched as my Qi formed into a defined, shimmering blue line, spiralling around my hand. I offered it to Arianna with a nod.

“I am [Aria Anna Executor of Men and Order]!” Arianna sang. “Hereby, I swear upon... The Scientific Method,” she stumbled a bit, not understanding the words, but repeated them anyway. “To be a friend and protector of [Ash Sparks at the Convergence of Deathstorm] and of [Celesteel Radiance is Eternal]!” She froze for a brief moment and then proceeded. “Let my song be bound with the power of my Qi. Let my Qi stop my heart if I do not fulfill my part of the binding pact!”

Arianna’s Qi came into focus, whirling around her hand like a little emerald storm. She took my hand and the two patterns of our Qi collided, sparkling with brilliant green and blue flashes.

“I am [Celesteel Radiance is Eternal]!” Celes sang. “Hereby, I bind-reinforce this pact-contract between [Ash Sparks at the Convergence of Deathstorm] and [Aria Anna Executor of Men and Order] with my Qi as a witness-observer!”

Celes must have done this before, I realised as the geisha held her hand over the two of ours.

A black and yellow-tinted spiral of Qi detached itself from her arm and spun over both of our hands, binding the two together. It too exploded into colorful detonations that hurt my eyes when I tried to focus on them.

The three of us quietly stood in somewhat awkward silence for a minute.

“So, I’ve promised to protect you…” Arianna said. “Tell me the truth - how are you controlling that servitor?”

“I already told you - I’m not controlling it,” I sighed tiredly. “He is my friend.”

“What?”

“She bound Mr. Murr with the power of friendship,” Celes smiled.

"Your secret is... Friendship?!" Arianna growled. Her nostrils flared. “Are you kidding me right now?! This… this can’t be true!!!”

“What does your nose tell you, madam?” I asked.

“That it’s true.” Arianna looked gloomier than a storm cloud.

“There you go - I use friendship with a side of kindness to bind servitors and people to myself. I’ve done it with Mr. Murr and I’ve done it with you, if you still haven’t noticed that.”

Arianna blinked, looking utterly stupefied. Her thought processing pattern must have crashed at this point.

“You… you tricked me!” She stomped her foot. “Ninety-nine-thousand hells! I want a refund!”

“I’ll teach you more... tomorrow, okay?” I yawned. “It’s the middle of the night and quite frankly I’m beat. Please get out of my room now - all of you.”

Celes grabbed hissing and spitting Arianna by her elbow and led her away. I closed my eyes and the embrace of sleep claimed me almost instantly.

My dreams… weren’t nice. They were made of twenty-first century memories stitched together with ruins of the dead city. There was a lot of running away, a lot of enduring pain and feeling afraid and confused. Countless faceless ghosts, people that neither of my souls could remember watched and judged me silently staring down from broken windows. A few of them stood amidst the ruination as the golden stars of Lord Boundless silently twinkled overhead.

I woke up from the sound of the morning gong permeating, echoing in my head. My head felt like it weighed a ton. I shuddered and looked down at myself with Qi-infused eyes. The gray, empty voids in my aura were still there. Damnation. My Dantian had been permanently torn up, sliced by the Celesteel Kiss curse.

I hugged my legs and sniffed. Things were bad. Celes wasn’t nearby. She was probably still sleeping. I wanted to, craved the field of serenity, wanted to feel extraordinarily calm, positively upbeat and competent!

Ninety-nine hells! I was craving her reassuring presence worse than ever. Without her I only had myself and the Pharmacist. I rubbed my aching forehead, wishing for coffee and toast. Alas, enjoying such luxuries was a thousand years too late.

Maybe I could find a functional toaster in the dead city…

No, that’s a massive waste of time.

A fresh toast in the morning isn’t a waste of time!

I realised that I was actively arguing with myself. It was a very odd experience, since I could barely tell who was talking. Perhaps, if I could keep at it, figure out which bit was me and which was the ancient memory I could actually summon Pharmacist as a separate being, pull either one out of this body as a phantom-soul?

There had to be a way to communicate with… myself more clearly. The System Level windows were made up of information-fractals that my mind could compress into text-boxes. I wondered if I could piggyback on this information system, to assign each of my distinctive personalities a separate fractal-pattern.

I tried to think of the two thought-patterns within me as distinctive beings, each with their own assigned color and fractal formulae. The Pharmacist picked Purple and I picked Blue. Both of us tried to send System-type message-thoughts to each other.

[Would be nice to have me manifest,] the purple-tinted fractal shimmered. [I’d love to talk to you and Celes at the same time.]

[Me too. I haven’t seen Celes this morning and I already miss her so much that it actually hurts! I feel like I'm... drowning in sad feelings and bad memories. Things are better than ever, I should be happy that I’m alive, but I feel like crying...] The blue fractal replied.

[I believe that this is due to her Serenity Field - we need to study it further to reduce these negative side effects when she’s not around. While it’s incredible for my focus and your fortitude, it seems to be addictive. What we’re experiencing now is akin to symptoms of drug withdrawal.]

[You won’t leave me right? Won’t dissolve into my subconsciousness? I don’t want to be alone again. I don’t want to be clueless about life, the universe and everything…]

[Never. We’re soul-bound until death do us part, but even then it seems that the concept of death has been rather diluted, pushed aside by Boundless Chorus.

...And when I do figure out everything, learn everything that there is to know - the last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.] The Pharmacist sent with a steadfast belief that resounded through our shared minds, being the rock that I could lean against.

Now that I was alone without the serenity field, I was left to think. The day prior really gone by like a blur. I was incredibly lucky. Everything that happened yesterday could’ve ended in disaster… a far bigger disaster than a shredded Dantian.

I sighed, tossing myself backward into bed. I rolled to and fro in my covers, my limbs flopping around like noodles. Every glance at my depleted, hole-riddled Dantian made me feel terrible. The urge to jump to my feet and find Celes was powerful. If I had to crawl to find her, I might just do it. But the Pharmacist’s warning about addiction stuck with me.

I... Ash, had learned to be independent a long time ago, avoiding attachments and friendships, refusing to obey Anathema’s orders, dashing free wherever my tape-covered feet could take me.

Longo ago, when I was only nine… Anathema had taught me how to wield my Dantian.

I didn't question it back then, didn't ask how a twelve-year-old ginger girl knew such esoteric skills. Only yesterday did I learn that she was a highborn granddaughter of the Magistrate masquerading as a gang leader for "leadership experience", simply passing forward what her high-cultivator tutors must have taught her.

Anathema Aria showed me how to push Qi into my eyes and into my limbs. How to land using Qi so I wouldn't get hurt. How to climb the ropes down into the dead city. How to survive an explosion. How to hurt someone weaker. These were often very painful lessons, she was impatient and snappy and was apt to hitting me or suddenly pushing me off a rooftop to teach me "how to fall".

I hated her for it, ran away and hid from her as often as I could, until illusive walls woven from fear and mistrust built up around me. I returned to her again and again, driven by hunger or desperation and then ran away again whenever she tried to "instruct" me on "how to become unbreakable".

Mistrust was the main reason why I’ve avoided stealing Alchemist pills. Yeah, they’d give you a boost of power from what I’d heard. Make you feel invincible… but I also didn’t know what was in them, couldn't trust the people that made them not to add something dangerous into the mixture that would screw me up as a person… make me as hate-filled as the high-cultivators.

I’d nearly believed that the pills would help, too. I was… or am… impressionable, sometimes, once I let my guard down. But I was right to have my walls up when hackneyed Alchemists came around pushing knockoffs.

I’d seen the damage the fakes could do. As a thief, I’d always watched from the shadows of small alcoves, or from the top of rooftops, marking anyone who’d look like they had things of value on them.

One day, I caught sight of an exchange between a street Alchemist and one of his saddest "customers". With Qi-infused eyes I noted that the Dantian surrounding the client had a bunch of holes in it. The color was muddy-looking, like rainwater in potholes in the dead city. The gold-robed Alchemist flashed a smile at the man with a muddy, broken Dantian, and provided “the fix”.

The victim gulped it down instantly. No chaser. His Dantian came to life. The aura of his Qi flared with a hue of vibrant colors, like a field of flowers blossoming under the morning rays of a new dawn. His body looked fuller, too. Filled with vigor. It was as if he was ready to dive into the catacombs and tunnels beneath the Gold city and fight the fiercest beasts down there with his bare hands.

Not even two days later, I revisited the same spot, making plans to steal from the Alchemist. I saw the same guy who had left filled with life and Qi return as a broken husk of a man. He looked about the same, maybe just a tad worse off. The alchemist had the same smile on his face. The cycle repeated itself, and I decided to skitter away rather than get involved.

. . .

Now back to me lying in bed with a discolored, riddled Dantian, I waited on the Pharmacist’s thoughts on my memory.

[Appalling. The malpractices that you’ve witnessed in this city… existed in the ancient world too, and it had put the good honest work of my profession to shame. What you’ve just remembered is something we must avoid here. We must rebuild ourselves properly to avoid becoming an addict. Once we do, then, perhaps we can help those who’ve fallen to such suffering along the way.]

[Were you ever able to stop that sort of stuff back then?]

[There were rules in place. Written laws that guided the professionals without using Qi to bind contracts. Contracts were conducted in writing using signatures. Men and women who specialized in these scenarios interpreted, enforced, judged and provided a basis of punishment for these laws.]

[I see. So, there was a process for everything. A systematic means to create a just society.]

[Though, a just society does start with the creation of a just individual.] The Pharmacist paused.

Since we were both in the same brain, I knew what to look for. Information about cultivation, and how to heal the Dantian. Little tidbits I overheard from passing High-Cultivators, or from mild practitioners came to mind.

I thought of the elderly, stationary, yellow-robed monks that sat at the pond in Central Park above the Bell-lake cavern day-in and day-out. When I glanced at them with Qi-vision, I saw how currents of air circled gently around them like a whirlpool. Daylight that reached the edges of their Dantian reflected off like spiraling light beams from a disco ball.

“I think… we need to cycle,” I said.

Cycle-meditation was the one thing that Anathema didn't succeed at teaching me, calling me “a talentless, impatient imbecile”. However, I could likely replicate what I had been observing for years and actually succeed now that I had twice the mental capacity to control Qi.

I nodded to myself, pushing up to a seat before rubbing dried tear streaks from my cheeks. Morning light lit up the room, and the wall art blazed with new life, especially the one with a High-Cultivator shining like the sun while in the lotus pose.

[I’ve never done meditation before.] The Pharmacist confessed. [I’ve always found it… irrational. I’ve seen videos of Buddhist monks supposedly achieving levitation, but it was just clever use of camera angles, mirrors or a well engineered suspension system.]

[Qi is tangible, visible.] Ash declared. [It’s something we can manipulate and control. Anathema… Arianna taught me that much.]

[Indeed, it is. Meditation just touches on an emotional point with me,] was the Pharmacist’s reply.

I sensed a part of me feeling bothered. Both of us wanted the sweet embrace of the geisha’s serenity field now, but at the same time, both of us knew what was at stake. We couldn't constantly cling to Celes like some sort of a serenity-leech. We thought of the victim of the alchemist, which filled both of us… with rage. Cleaning the streets of bad alchemy would be on our list of things to do.

[Together?]

[Let’s do this, Ash.]

I crossed my legs, struck the famous pose, and decided to throw in a little hum to it. Eh, why not? Might as well go the whole way. My mind created an image of a machine rotating blood around, which worked for our purposes of understanding. The Dantian didn’t respond at first as we tugged and pulled awkwardly.

When we found a way to latch on together at the same time, the field of Qi swirled around us gradually. My sheets ruffled slightly, the air in the room stirred. I envisioned the damaged, perforated parts of my Qi finding the exit out of my body. At the same time, I saw new Qi entering me, infusing energy that was aimlessly floating around with nothing to do. Little, barely perceptible currents of Qi spiralled through the air like miniature storms.

The Pharmacist had seen videos of colorised air-currents before, but to see Qi dancing on air was something truly incredible.

I had never done cycling-style cultivation before. I needed to practice this more, interview some monks, maybe dig into some High-Cultivator reading material that could give us their interpretation of Qi.

I sucked at it. I wanted to reach out for one of the beast cores to suck its power into myself to fix up the problem immediately, but I felt that I had to figure stuff out instead of constantly relying on crutches… especially ones that whisper-sang sinister thoughts.

In the silence of my meditative trance, I heard them even clearer. A song made of fractal Qi patterns, emanating from the last two remaining wishes and also resonating within me.

[Death. Pain. Revenge. Dominate. Kill. Devour.]

I was relatively sure of it now - the beast cores weren’t pure, they were tinged with memories of pain and suffering. Why was this the case anyway? Was this dark resonance, an echo of death, some sort of a remnant, the final memory of the beast murdered by a high-cultivator hunter?

I suddenly understood more of the world. The cycle of cultivation reinforced, multiplied the resonance of hate and pain. Beast core Qi was contaminated, imprinted upon by the very brutal, violent nature of the hunt itself. Cultivators executed the alien creatures and consumed their cores, absorbing the last moments of pain and hate, becoming filled with it. Everything clicked together like a puzzle being assembled in my brain.

The monkey's paw of wishes had a fatal flaw embedded in it - if I kept using these cores on myself, how many would it take before I turned into a murderer, a monster?!

Damnation!

It was somewhat of a mistake to rush into using these beast cores on myself and Celes… although it's not like I had other options since I had no idea how to cleanse them.

Wait… could they be cleansed for absorption? Hm. It would be like filtering the hate and pain to purify the core. Had anyone purified beast cores in such a manner before consumption? This was worth exploring.

A knock on the door brought me out of the zone. I blinked, surprised by the angle of the light beaming through the window. It had to be about two hours before noon.

Before I limped out of bed, I flexed my Dantian to check it. It wasn’t looking much better, the gray holes were still there, but they felt marginally less empty and hollow now. If I kept this up, I might fix my aura in… about a hundred years of meditative cycling. I sighed.

It was minute, of barely any help, but it was something I did myself - without being propped up by Celes or the beast cores.

Things weren’t always easy, but the Pharmacist in me had grown more curious on how to make things easier. I liked sharing my body with a creative thinker. It helped us stay rational.

I reached the door, grabbed at the gold-encrusted handle and pulled it open.