Gathering my things took all of thirty seconds since I didn’t have much to begin with, and it was all still stored in my backpack. After a brief but sincere round of goodbyes from Batuhan, Irma, and a surprising handshake and farewell from Tarkhan we were on the road. The village was far busier during the day. I saw multiple people out working in fields, outside of the village walls, that I hadn’t seen the night before. There were children laughing and playing, although as soon as they saw the Hermit they tended to stop playing and give us a wide berth. The adults, without exception, stopped what they were doing and bowed before resuming their tasks. Each was acknowledged by the Hermit with a respectful nod. We continued in silence until we had entered the forest.

After what felt like an hour of walking through the trees along a small footpath the Hermit spoke, “So, you’re a Jumpspark.”

“What’s that?,” I said, attempting to feign ignorance. Just because Eolia said I could tell him didn’t mean that I trusted him enough to do so.

“Don’t play dumb, I already know the truth. When a glowing woman with an aura strong enough to crack the planet appears in my bedroom and tells me to go to the village the next day to pick up my new apprentice there isn’t much else you could be. I know she likely warned you to not tell anyone but training you will be almost impossible unless I know who you chose and what boons they gave you as well as your minor boon. I swore an oath to her to train you to the best of my capabilities and I’ll swear the same to you if it will put your mind at ease,” he said.

We kept walking as I mulled over his words. If Eolia didn’t tell him that only left a single logical possibility. He was a Jumpspark as well. That’s the only way he’d have known about the choice each Jumpspark had to make, their boons, and their minor boons. Logically, he was right, there wouldn’t be an efficient way to train me without knowing my abilities. I wasn’t sure what kind of oath he was referring to, but I’d read about magical oaths in several fantasy novels. If this world worked on a similar premise then I was likely safe to tell him. Most importantly, I had a gut feeling that he was telling me the truth. Following my instincts had kept me reasonably safe thus far, and I wasn’t going to go against them.

“Eolia. I chose Eolia. She gave me Magic, Knowledge, and something called Mystery. I think Knowledge is why I can understand the language. It deals primarily with memory and learning speed from what she told me. Magic is supposed to “make me into a perfect conduit for energy” or something like that. I haven’t tried to experiment with it at all; with my luck I’d have burned down the Inn or summoned an eldritch horror. She said Mystery was going to get an overhaul to fit the world and would allow me to make leaps of logic,” I finally said.

“Leaps of logic?” He asked.

“Yeah, like knowing that you’re a Jumpspark as well,” I said, as nonchalantly as I could. He never even missed a step and his face never changed expressions. I mentally reminded myself that playing poker with him would be a terrible idea.

“Not much of a leap there. But yes, I am a Jumpspark,” he said. “To answer your next question, I chose Krieg and the minor boon of Loyalty from Kelias. What minor boon did you pick? That will also influence your training.”

“I took the Animal boon from Tabiea. Any animal that would otherwise be hostile or consider me prey will ignore me. Any animals that would otherwise ignore me will be more friendly. I can also form a bond with a single animal to make it a “familiar” from what she said,” I replied, making the air quotes with my fingers, “She said that she left it open so that it will interface with my Magic boon and allow the creature to grow in power alongside me. Sort of like a spirit beast I suppose, if I’m correct in what those are. I guess that explains why I didn’t get eaten by shadow bears or fire wolverines or whatever it is that roams around on the mountain. Tarkhan was pretty vague on the wildlife last night, but he was insistent that I should have died on my trip.”

“Hrmm, that’s a boon I’ve never heard of. We’ll explore that further during your training, it could be a very powerful boon. Did she tell you anything else regarding your new world?”

“Multiple races, dragons and unicorns, and a teacher were my only stipulations. Oh, and no dropping me into anything that would get me killed immediately, and no worlds that are just cesspools of suffering” I answered.

“We do have all of that here. The Empire,” he spat to the side as he said the word, “is composed of mostly humans. While demi-human rights are protected by law most of the demi-humans have moved out of the empire in the past five hundred years. Dwarves have retreated deep into the Apocalypse Peaks, while the elves have moved to the forests and plains to the east. The humans of the Empire generally practice both internal and external cultivation methods. The dwarven clans focus almost exclusively on internal body enhancement and crafting magics. Elves tend to eschew body enhancement and favor long-range external qi, or mana, manipulation. Unicorns do exist here but are incredibly rare. There is a small herd that lives in this valley but in the centuries I’ve lived here I’ve only seen them twice. Larger herds live past the mountain range to the north, on the flat plains. Dragons and dragon-kin are somewhat more common, the drake we had for lunch today is a good example. They tend to be aligned with a specific element. The Cerulean-Scale Thunder Drake is a dragon aligned with the element of Air. It can exhale lightning and is able to fly even as an adult thanks to their affinity. Batuhan said you had Three-Horn Breeze Stag as well, those are likewise aligned with the Air element. They can compress balls of air between their horns and fire them with enough force to explode a small tree.”

“Can you explain the elements for me? And maybe explain what cultivation is? Batuhan and Tarkhan both referred to it but I’m not familiar with the term.” I asked.

“The four elements are Air, Water, Earth, and Fire. Most humans are born with an innate affinity to at least one element, to varying degrees. In perhaps one out of every hundred thousand births a human is born with an affinity for two. There is a legend of a child that was born with an affinity for three elements, but it was never verified, and given how important cultivation and elemental affinities are in this world I doubt it’s more than a myth. A testing crystal, like the one in the village, will show your affinities,” he said.

“Then why didn’t you allow me to use the crystal in the village?” I asked.

“Because none of them need to see what it’s going to reveal. I’m aware of four Jumpsparks, including myself. I have never met one that only cultivated a single element. Now that I know you chose Eolia I’m even happier that I didn’t let you use the crystal in the village. The last Jumpspark I met, several decades ago, was also a chosen of Eolia, and was able to do fantastic things with Qi. I’ll admit that I’m intensely curious what your affinities will be, but nobody else needs to know unless you choose to reveal them. In fact, you should keep them a secret. All the Jumpsparks I’ve met have kept their affinities and abilities in the strictest confidence from non-Jumpsparks. If the ruling class were aware of what we are and the power we possess it would spark wars that could very well ravage this world. It’s far easier to just stay quiet,” he said.

“So, what about cultivation?,” I asked.

“The simplest answer is that cultivation is the act of taking world energy, which we call Qi, or mana, and using it to saturate your body or projecting it externally. These two techniques are called internal qi manipulation and external qi manipulation,” he answered. His response was delivered in a tone I recognized from my time in college. It was the same tone professors used while teaching freshman level courses for the umpteenth time.

Taking a deep breath, he continued, “The elemental affinity possessed by an individual determines how their body is reinforced during internal manipulation and what effects can be achieved with external manipulation. I cultivate both air and fire. Fire cultivators have higher strength than other elements, decent speed, but have far and away the lowest stamina. Our external Qi manipulation, however, is formidable. Air cultivators have midrange stamina, low strength, but are the fastest and most maneuverable of the cultivators. We generally focus on lightning and wind when manipulating Qi externally. Earth is the slowest of the elements but has the highest stamina and decent strength. Some believe that the metal, rock, and plant affinity of the earth element makes it the weakest of the elements when it comes to external manipulation of Qi. I personally think the affinity the earth cultivators have with healing makes up for any lack in that department. Water cultivators don’t excel in any specific area but have no obvious weaknesses, either. They aren’t as fast as an air cultivator but outclass them in stamina and strength. They don’t have the stamina of an earth cultivator but are stronger and faster. And while not as strong as a fire cultivator they are able to outlast them in a fight.”

“Each individual is different, however. Don’t always assume that an earth cultivator is going to be slow or that all fire cultivators will tire out quickly. Depending on the native talent of the person, the level of their cultivation, and how dedicated they are to their training it is possible to overcome these weaknesses.”

“What is qi, then? You make it sound like magical energy,” I asked, curious.

“I see why you chose Eolia now,” said the Hermit, smiling, “you’re an endless stream of questions. I don’t know what qi is. The other Eolian Jumpspark I spoke with talked about things like invisible strings that tied all living things together and invisible particles, whatever those are, that activated latent talents in the brain. The most popularly accepted theory here is that qi is a cosmic energy, emitted by almost everything, that cultivators can tap into through various cultivation methods.”

“So, does each element requires a different method? That seems like it would make dual element cultivation like you were talking about earlier harder,” I observed.

“Each sect, which is just a group of cultivators, uses a different cultivation technique. I’m going to let you in on a secret; all those techniques are shit. A cultivator must open their body to the flowing qi, absorb it into themselves, and then slowly allow it to trickle back out of their body, infusing it into their organs, bones, blood, muscles, and skin along the way. That’s it. No tricking the qi into a certain pattern, no condensing it into a mist, then a liquid, and then a solid. The Obsidian Ring sect cultivates near fire or in caves depending on their affinity. Complete and utter shit. There are sects dedicated to the cultivation of air that claim entire mountain peaks for cultivation sites. They claim that being higher up allows for more purity in the qi. That’s another load of complete shit. You can cultivate any element at any place. I can cultivate air in the deepest cave, or fire while floating on the seas,” he said. The tone of disgust in his voice was almost palpable.

“So why do they do it? Misdirection? Power?” I asked.

“Exactly right,” said the Hermit, looking sideways at me with a raised eyebrow, “they do it because it helps them maintain a fiction of power over the “common” people. I suppose there’s something to that Mystery boon of yours.”

“That one was all me, I think. Politicians are the same the world over,” I stated.

Our conversation died off as we continued along the footpath as it wound deeper into the forest. The pace set by the Hermit was quick, despite the undergrowth in the forest. I kept my head on a swivel, looking for possible threats, although I wasn’t sure what I was going to be able to do other than run. The Hermit strode along like he was on a pleasant hike. He didn’t jump at every creak the trees made in the breeze, nor did he flinch when an unfamiliar animal began to screech in the distance. I, on the other hand, did in fact jump when the trees creaked and I might have flinched, just a tad, when the screeching began. Even with the boon from Tabiea I was still on edge.

“Relax, Karlus. Unless you fall out of them the trees cannot hurt you and the Rage-Crest Howlers are far away and would not attack me, or those under my protection, even if they weren’t. They are loud, but they are cowards. You have nothing to fear in these woods while by my side,” he said after seeing how tense I was.

“So, what’s your name? Seems weird to just call you Hermit if we’re going to be around each other. And what powers does Krieg grant, if I might ask? I’m not sure what the etiquette is for sharing Jumpspark powers, but it seems weird to see someone with the boon of a war god living this far outside of…civilization,” I asked, trying to pick my words carefully. He hadn’t seemed averse to conversation before, and I was both looking for something to take my mind off the spooky murderforest we were currently walking through as well as out of curiosity.

He didn’t answer for a few minutes, and I was worried that I had breached some unknown Jumpspark protocol or offended him somehow. Just as I was about to apologize, he answered.

“My given name is Temüjin, but the appropriate form of address for you to use would be Teacher. I am one thousand and two hundred years old, give or take a few decades. I spent the entirety of my last life and the first six hundred years of my life on this world in the pursuit of power, wealth, and women,” he began. At my incredulous look, the guy couldn’t have been a day over fifty, he explained, “As a cultivator your life span will increase as you gain in power. As a Jumpspark your potential to gain that power is multiplied manifold. If you avoid trouble there’s no reason you couldn’t live a few millennia. The only problem is living for millennia is that…you live for millennia. You must find something to do, something to occupy your time. My first centuries were spent bathed in the blood of my enemies. Krieg is the God of Blood, Battle, and War and I strove greatly to bring glory to his name in exchange for the powers he gave me. My boons are uniquely suited to doing so. Battle allows me to pick up weapons and martial techniques very quickly. War makes any of my troops train harder and faster, fight more effectively, and be less likely to rout along with giving me a supernatural sense of strategy. Blood allows me to heal rapidly, without the use of qi, and gives me stamina on par with any earth cultivator I’ve met. My minor boon, Loyalty, allows me to detect falsehoods and makes people less likely to betray me. None of which, I agree, seems suited to a hermit living in the woods. I live here, now, because I just got tired of fighting all the time. Did Eolia explain choice to you?”

“She did,” I answered. “I can understand where you’re coming from. I enjoyed my job in my…last life, I guess you could call it. I wouldn’t want to do it for centuries though. This is sort of like retirement for you then?”

“A voluntary retirement, yes,” he replied. “I found this place a few centuries after I first arrived. When I decided to hang up my sword I travelled here. It’s remote, the scenery is beautiful, and there are plenty of resources to make for easy living. Gladewood sprung up after I had eliminated the larger threats in the valley. I took it upon myself to protect the village after the first settlers move in. They don’t bother me too much, and it is nice to have some human contact. It also makes getting supplies easier.”

“It really is beautiful,” I agreed. I wasn’t kidding. Some of the trees in the forest we were tromping through were enormous. I’d seen the redwoods in coastal California once, on a vacation, and these were every bit as large. We had crossed a few small streams already that looked like something out of a painting. “How big is the valley? I couldn’t see much last night when I came down the escarpment.”

“Ah, you should take the time to see a sunset from the top of it. That view is what drew me back here when I decided to leave the Empire. The valley is quite large, a full honogiin gazar long from east to west and about half that wide at its widest point,” he answered with a sly grin.

“And how big, pray tell, is a honogiin gazar?” I asked.

“A day and night’s ride on a horse. About 250 li if you want to use the Empire measurements. If you prefer the eastern barbarian measurement system it’s about 80 miles. Gladewood is at the only easily accessible entrance to the valley. My home, and your new home while training, is about 80 li north of the village, close to the mountains. And, if we want to get there before dark, we’ll need to pick up the pace,” came his reply.

He wasn’t making an idle threat, either. We started to jog along the tiny dirt path, and as I kept up, he slowly increased the pace. As I’ve said before, I’m not a huge fan of running, but the forest seemed to be made for it. The path, though dirt, was relatively level and seemed to be free from most obstructions. The trees overhead kept most of the sun blocked with their giant canopies but were tall enough to not trap humidity, making it feel cooler in the shade. We came across several streams fed from the glacial runoff from the surrounding mountains that we had to cross. Most we could just hop across, others were large enough that I had to carefully pick my way across the stones jutting from their surface. Temüjin, in a practical demonstration of his skill as an air cultivator, never broke stride as he bounced from one slick mossy rock to the next. I, in a practical demonstration of having no cultivation, was lucky to not get my feet wet in the freezing water.

We kept the pace for the remainder of the afternoon. The sun had begun to ride low in the west by the time Temüjin slowed his pace and allowed me to close the gap that had widened between us during our run. A clearing, perhaps a half mile square, was laid out before me. Another glacial stream, this one wide enough to almost qualify as a river, ran along the west edge of the glade. A timber and stone cottage, replete with a large covered porch, dominated the space as it backed up to the mountain range. A large garden had been tilled and showed signs of sprouting, and a small barn with a few goats was behind the house. Further to the north, trees marched up the hill before finally giving way to a scree covered slope.

“Slow,” he said, “but I suppose it’s to be expected given how new you are to the world and having no qi.”

Gasping for breath as I finished my jog toward him, I answered, “At least…I’m trying…Never…have…cared…for running.”

“Which is something we’ll fix at some point,” he replied, not even breathing heavily, “Running will save your life, and the endurance it builds is invaluable for Qi manipulation. But that is for tomorrow. For today, we are home.”