Irma, Batuhan, Tarkhan, and the Hermit had adjourned inside the inn while I finished up outside. After putting away the tools I had used and giving myself a quick splash from the rainwater barrel to wash away a bit of the sweat I likewise headed inside. Three of them were seated at one of the larger tables and I could hear Batuhan in the kitchen banging around. As I headed toward the table I could see a slight shimmer in the air surrounding them. In a rare, for me, display of judgement I stopped short of stepping across it and plastered a quizzical expression on my face. The Hermit, noting my expression gave a wave of his hand toward an unoccupied chair. Shrugging, I walked through the shimmering air and sat down. I heard, for a bare second, a high-pitched ringing as I walked across the floor and sat down.

“Privacy barrier in case anybody comes into the Inn. I’m a wind cultivator. Something you might be able to learn if you have the affinity,” said the Hermit, answering my unspoken question.

“Is there a way to test for that?,” I asked.

“I’ll test you for affinities when we get back home. I didn’t bring the crystal with me,” he replied.

Tarkhan stopped staring at me long enough to chime in, “The village has a testing crystal. I can go get it and be back before Batuhan serves us lunch.”

The Hermit glanced at him before looking back to me, “It’s your decision. Testing affinities isn’t generally a private affair. It’s your decision, but I would counsel you to wait. Given your rather unique circumstances we should have a long discussion about what is to be expected, first.”

My mind flickered back to Eolia explaining my major boon of magic and how it had to be tweaked for this world. I had never heard of a cultivator before, but Batuhan and the Hermit had both mentioned it. I suppose the expression on my face as I was puzzling through the mystery gave me away, because the Hermit grinned.

He said, “If you’ll save your questions for the walk home I swear to answer as many as I can. If you start now we’ll never get to eat, and you’ll be dancing around the topic that I want to discuss. No need to confuse our hosts any more than necessary.”

“I suppose a bit longer won’t hurt.” I agreed, “And you’re right, if I started asking questions now I’d get carried away and the food Batuhan makes does deserve my full attention. I worked up an appetite chopping wood this morning. Maybe a few general questions? Like, what’s the name of the village? Maybe a little history behind it would be nice too. If I’m going to be training near here I’d like to know more about the place.”

Tarkhan spoke up, “Gladewood. The original founders named it because the entire area was heavily forested when the land was settled. The village has been around for a little over four hundred years.” He looked at the Hermit with a questioning look on his face. Seeing a reassuring smile, Tarkhan looked back to me and continued his explanation.

“We host a caravan from Amadora a few times a year, usually in the spring and fall. They deliver weapons, spices, and any basics that we can’t build or make ourselves. In return we ship out beast cores and medicinal herbs from the forest and surrounding mountains. Most of our children are trained in the village, but we do have some that leave to see the world and adventure.”

When he paused to take a drink Irma spoke, “Amadora is the closest city, in the foothills of the Apocalypse Peaks. I’m sure you passed through there on your journey here. It’s part of the Eternal Blue Sky Empire, one of the furthest outposts of the Empire, in fact. The Apocalypse Peaks are one of the boundaries of the Empire, but since Gladewood is in the mountain range we’re technically outside of Imperial control. It’s a legal grey area and we’re too small and remote to rate any Imperial intervention, which is how we’d like to keep it.”

“Why? Wouldn’t being a part of the Empire be a positive for the village?” I asked.

“For a normal village,” she answered, “sure. They’d have protection from any hostile spirit beasts that might threaten them. There are downsides, though. The Empire levies taxes for that protection, drafts young men and women into their armies at need, and as part of the official Empire we’d be subject to harassment from the sects. The Obsidian Ring sect has headquarters in Amadora and we have to deal with their students from time to time already. If Gladewood were truly part of the Empire those students would have legal protection in our lands. Little snot-nosed cultivators trying to lord it over common people is why most of us are out here to begin with.”

Taking a page from my Grandmother’s playbook I stayed silent and just looked at Irma with a raised eyebrow, hoping to bait more information out of her. It worked, and she continued talking.

“Take me, for example. I originally lived further inside the Empire but when I rejected the advances of a disciple of the Undying Phoenix sect I was forced to flee for my safety. I made my way to Amadora and when I heard of Gladewood I settled here rather than fleeing further,” she said.

“That’s…terrible. Does the Empire not have authority to deal with the sects? Why would they allow them to force someone out of their home simply for not wanting to be associated with one of their members?” I questioned.

“My particular situation was a bit of an outlier. Any abuses of sect authority are supposed to be reported to the local magistrate, but the Undying Phoenix was entrenched in local politics and the boy I turned down had connections to the Imperial representative in our province. It worked out in the end, though. I met Batuhan here and I don’t have to fear that I’ll be raped in a dark alley any longer,” she finished, quietly.

“I’m sorry,” I said, “It wasn’t my intention to dredge up any bad memories.”

“It was thirty years ago, not yesterday. Truly, I am happy here. This place isn’t much, but it is home,” she responded.

“So, what keeps the cultivators from coming in and running rampant anyway? It doesn’t seem to be any safer here, without legal protections, than in a larger city with legal protections. They work both ways, don’t they?” I asked.

“Me,” said Hermit, “any sect member stepping foot in this valley or the mountains around the valley will have to go through me. The Obsidian Ring used to boast nearly two thousand cultivators. They have barely over two hundred now. Took them almost a century to get the hint that they weren’t wanted here.”

I didn’t really know how to respond to that. Luckily Batuhan chose that moment to come out of the kitchen with lunch and conversation halted as he started to load the table down with dishes. It looked like he had pulled out all the stops. There were some unrecognizable vegetables in a brown sauce, what appeared to be steamed vegetables, several meat dishes, a large bowl of rice, some steamed buns, and a tureen of soup.

After the others had served themselves I helped myself to a plate of vegetables, rice, and a few of the meat selections. Taking my first bite, I realized that the meat was spirit beast again. It wasn’t the same beast that I had eaten last night or this morning, either. The flavor was deeper and richer, the meat falling apart as soon as I bit into it, and the energy it was dumping into my body was a magnitude more potent. After my first bite I put my fork down and took a few deep breaths, trying to regain my equilibrium.

“It’s not Three-Horned Breeze Stag. I brought out the expensive stuff since the Hermit was joining us. It’s in the steamed buns and soup as well,” said Batuhan. He’d apparently noticed my actions.

“Yeah, that’s a bit too potent for me. I think I’d probably better stick with the vegetables and rice for now,” I replied. “What did the meat come from?”

“It’s from a young Cerulean-Scale Thunder Drake. I’ve been keeping it in stasis, waiting for an excuse to cook with it,” he answered.

The rest of the meal passed without incident. The villagers and the Hermit made small talk regarding mutual acquaintances as they ate. Meanwhile I was focusing on the food, hungry from my morning exertions. While the vegetables and rice weren’t nearly as tasty as the drake meat they were enough to fill my stomach. I couldn’t recognize any of them. One looked almost like an eggplant; but tasted like a hard-boiled egg with a creamy texture. Another looked almost like slices of kiwi but had the texture of a carrot and tasted like cauliflower. To my surprise, they also contained small traces of the same energy that had flooded me each time I ate spirit beast meat. It was very faint, almost unnoticeable, but it was there. After we had all eaten our fill the Hermit pushed his chair back from the table and gave a short bow to the villagers.

“Thank you for the hospitality,” he said, “but it is past time that my new apprentice and I take our leave. If you would, Irma, please increase my standing order to account for two people. We will need additional supplies as I train him. Apprentice, gather your things and we will set out.”