Vaskir grinned as his foot touched cobblestone. Cradow ran into the middle of the road and started celebrating.

‘Solid ground. You just don’t realise how much you miss something until it's gone,’ Cradow said, taking a knee and rapping his knuckles against the rock.

‘Left or right?’ Pravin asked, also taking a few appreciative stomps.

‘Left,’ Vaskir said, answering only slightly faster than Covens. ‘Right would take us to Withercap Mining. Left is Port Royal.’

‘I miss the sea,’ Covens said. ‘It’ll be nice to breathe some fresh air.’

‘We’re still 3 days off,’ Pravin reminded everyone. ‘Me and Vaskir won’t be gettin’ much cultivating done, now we’re on the road. Those sleds barely lasted through the jungle.’

‘You’ll just have to lose sleep,’ Covens said. She opened her mouth to say more but was interrupted by the distant sound of whistling. She looked toward the right side of the road and everyone followed her gaze. A small cart, led by two donkeys, trundled towards them. A fat man sat on the driving bench, holding the reins in one hand and a long thin stick in the other. He was bobbing left and right to the tune of the song he was whistling.

‘Oh good,’ Cradow said, ‘a free cart.’

‘We’re not robbing this poor man of his cart,’ Vaskir said, frowning at him.

‘It’ll be a lot faster,’ Covens said.

‘And time is of the essence,’ Pravin added.

‘How am I the only one against this?’ Vaskir asked, exasperated. ‘Besides, we’re better than that.’

‘You really don’t know me well if you think killing an old man and stealing his cart is below me,’ Cradow said.

‘When did killing him enter into this?’ Pravin asked, shocked.

‘Killing who?’ the old man asked, stopping his donkeys beside the group.

‘You,’ Cradow answered, deadpan.

‘Oh,’ the old man said, raising his eyebrows. He seemed unworried, and his grin only widened at Cradow’s answer. ‘Should I be worried?’

‘No, sir,’ Vaskir said, stepping in for Cradow. ‘We’re heading to Port Royal and we were hoping for a lift.’ The old man nodded slowly, seemingly mulling over the request. As he thought about his answer Vaskir cast a quick glance towards the cart, trying to discern any potential threats or problems. The cart itself was a dark brown, but most of it was hidden by the cornucopia of rugs, ropes, strung together utensils, pouches, empty scabbards and bags upon bags of mushrooms covering every inch of the vehicle. Vaskir could tell the bag's contents from the smell… and the big:

Liolil’s Mushroom Delivery

painted on a sign, hanging off the side of the cart.

‘You know what,’ Liolil said, ‘you each buy something and you can hop in the back. It’s a little… fungal, back there. But it’s plenty comfortable.’ Liolil himself was wearing a big purple smock as well as eyeglasses.

‘Excellent!’ Cradow said. ‘I’ll take a pouch full of your most potent mushrooms.’ Liolil didn’t bat an eye, reached behind him into his cart, and retrieved a silver pouch.

‘If you’re looking for potency look no further than Rikshim shrooms! If you prepare them correctly they’re even meant to leave a smoky aftertaste.’ Liolil said, already handing the pouch to Cradow as if he’d made the purchase.

‘How much?’ he asked.

‘Twenty queens!’ Liolil said. Vaskir blanched at the price but Cradow and Covens didn’t even flinch. The two Ascendants nodded at each other as if everything was perfectly reasonable and Cradow paid the man. Vaskir shook off the previous interaction and asked Cradow:

‘Do you even know what you bought?’ Cradow frowned at him.

‘Um, drugs?’ Cradow said. Vaskir kept his face perfectly stoic and was suddenly very glad that his aura was tame and hidden, else Cradow would have seen the spark of joy flare-up in Vaskir and know that something was off.

‘Of course,’ Vaskir said. ‘But do you know how to take them?’

‘They’re mushrooms,’ Cradow said. ‘You eat them,’ he looked at Covens, ‘you eat them, right?’ Covens shrugged. Pravin was having a harder time holding back his smile but Cradow missed it. Vaskir stepped forward.

‘Do you have any cleaning cloths or perfume?’ Vaskir asked. Both were in Liolil’s hands before Vaskir could finish speaking. He handed them over and Vaskir examined the bottle.

‘Good eye,’ Liolil said. ‘That’s dabbing oil, not finishing perfume, but—’

‘Same difference,’ Vaskir finished, appreciating the clean labeling of the bottle. Liolil seemed to take a shine to Vaskir, grinning as his new favorite customer carefully read the label.

‘We extract it up at Withercap,’ Liolil said. ‘It’s warm and earthy. None of that rose-tinted crap that the Consortium sells.’ Vaskir nodded, dabbing his wrist with the concoction. It smelled like a newly unearthed cave that had been fermenting in water and mold. After the initial blast, the smell lingered pleasantly.

‘I’ll take—’ Liolil handed Vaskir another bottle, forestalling him.

‘I doubt you’ll be back around these parts for a while. Another bottle won’t go amiss,’ Liolil said and Vaskir couldn’t help but agree. Vaskir now had Q1500 to his name and felt the urge to spend it. Liolil grinned.

‘How much?’ Vaskir asked warily.

‘Thirty queens! Buy the second bottle and I’ll throw in the cleaning cloth for free,’ Liolil said, but quickly noticed that Vaskir was already shaking his head in disagreement. Despite his newfound wealth, spending it on luxuries felt wrong. Vaskir imagined that he would remember this moment, some years down the line when he was starving, and wish he still had those Q30 on him. ‘And a lovely new scabbard!’ Liolil said, immediately sweetening the deal. He reached into the back of his cart and retrieved it; it was a dark red, almost brown. A warm, comforting colour. Vaskir stopped, staring at the scabbard. It was beautiful. He noticed Pravin step forward, probably about to buy the items for him, and quickly handed Liolil the money.

‘Thank you,’ Vaskir said. He put the scabbard in his knapsack and the bottles in one of his pouches. The knapsack now distended awkwardly. The scabbard was worth the annoyance and Vaskir vowed to use it to sheathe a centerpiece in his weapon store, once all this insanity was over.

‘I want chocolate,’ Pravin said. Covens burst out into laughter.

‘The big scary man wants chocolate?’ she said, chortling happily. Cradow’s eyes gleamed with newfound ammunition.

‘Yes,’ Pravin said. ‘Who doesn’t love chocolate?’ He looked at Covens then Cradow, searching for an answer. ‘It’s delicious. And we’ll have to learn to enjoy the finer things in life once we’re stinking filthy rich, why not start now?’ Maybe it was Vaskir’s imagination but he thought he saw Covens lick her lip in excitement. Pravin had a point: who didn’t like chocolate? Liolil was already holding a thin bag made of paper. The bag fit nicely in his large hand and he handed it over to Pravin, in which the bag suddenly looked very small.

‘Five queens!’ Liolil said. Pravin quickly paid him and stashed the chocolate. Liolil looked to Covens.

‘What do you have?’ she asked.

‘Everything,’ came the proud answer. She pursed her lips and ran her eyes over all the nick-nacks on display.

‘We need bowls,’ she said. ‘And spoons. I’m tired of eating—’ she stopped talking as Liolil held up his hand, shaking his head.

‘No, no, no! I want you to buy something. Something you want, something you need,’ Liolil said. She clicked her tongue in annoyance.

‘Fine,’ she said. ‘Do you have any paints?’ Liolil gave her a beaming smile and this time disappeared into the back of the cart. A brief moment later he returned with a small box.

‘Bought these off the coast of Imigin, the corals there make the most beautiful blue,’ Liolil said and handed her the box. She peeked inside and smiled. ‘Any interest in brushes?’ he added. She shook her head.

‘Here,’ she said, reaching into her coin purse and handing him a handful. ‘Consider any extra a tip.’ Liolil took it gratefully.

‘Alright!’ he said. ‘Hop in back and we’ll be off.’ The group climbed in and found a surprising amount of room. The inside of the cart was filled with little drawers, each one labeled or marked. Vaskir read one out loud:

‘Wormtongue,’ he said. ‘I didn’t even know worms had tongues.’

‘Not the ones you’re thinking of, lad,’ Liolil said from the front of the cart. Vaskir pulled the drawer open; tongues, prickly tongues with what looked like wet cat fur stuck to them.

‘I don’t know what I was expecting,’ Vaskir muttered, closing the drawer. Covens leaned in, speaking at a whisper so Liolil couldn’t hear.

‘So, what’s the plan once we hit Port Royal?’ she said.

‘Get a big boat,’ Cradow said. ‘Sail to Hafstad’s landing. Take the main road to Chilbrow. Our medium-sized friend here,’ he pointed to Vaskir, ‘will sell the goods. Thirty thousand queens each—’

‘Closer to 25,’ Vaskir said. ‘We didn’t have Covens in the group before.’ Cradow frowned and gave Covens a look. Pravin shook his head.

‘We’re not killing her for a bigger cut,’ Pravin said, somehow reading his expression.

‘Let’s not make any decisions we’ll regret,’ Cradow said. ‘I, for one, think she’s the least trustworthy out of all of you.’

‘Seconded,’ Pravin said, staring at her. Covens looked to Vaskir, trying to gauge his reaction too. He grimaced and nodded

'Sorry, Covens,’ Vaskir said. ‘But, if it’s any consolation, I don’t trust any Ascendants that aren’t openly hostile.’ Cradow elbowed Covens in the ribs.

‘That’s the reason he likes me so much,’ Cradow said. Covens sighed.

‘Focus up,’ she said. ‘Thanks to sir Liolil we’ll probably have 2 days on Monver. Once we hit Port Royal we need to buy passage on a little boat. The faster the better. At Hafstad, we get out quickly, maybe hit up the Consortium whilst we’re still not banned.’ Cradow flinched.

‘Hadn’t thought of that,’ Cradow muttered. ‘We’re fugitives the second Monver gets to the mainland.’

‘Remember,’ Covens said. ‘It’s worth the risk. Twenty-five thousand queens means we can all break through to Chi Accumulation.’

‘Stage 2,’ Vaskir translated in his head. He had questioned Covens extensively during their journey. Whenever he wasn’t cultivating, he was picking her brain. ‘Speaking of breakthroughs. I think I’m close to Foundational.’ Covens nodded.

‘Yeah, for now, it’s easy to fill up your unascendant body with Chi. Once you’re brimming, you’ll be filled with passion and energy. After that, just sit down and cultivate until your body can’t handle anymore. Your instincts will kick in and you’ll break through into Foundational.’ Covens said. ‘Oh! We should buy you a change of clothes and some towels. The first Ascension isn’t pretty.’ Vaskir was about to ask for more information but Covens had climbed out of the cart to join Liolil.

‘You getting anywhere?’ Vaskir asked Pravin. He nodded, sighing.

‘Yeah, but it’s slow going,’ Pravin said.

‘Better than being forced to hunt a Duskstalker, believe me,’ Vaskir said and they both laughed.

‘What we’re doing is crazy, isn’t it?’ Pravin said. Vaskir didn’t answer. Instead, he crossed his legs and started cultivating. What Covens had neglected to mention was how exhausting it was. He spent hours honing himself and his body always ached afterward. Strangely, it reminded Vaskir of masturbation; a long wind-up for a brief payoff at the end. Vaskir stretched out his senses and grasped onto every sound and noise and taste he could take in. Then, he pulled it all into himself. He once again entered the room inside his mind, after a few days of cultivation it was no longer pitch black, but a light grey. He released the accumulated energy, lightening the room once again. Before he pulled himself out and went back to accumulating he always took a careful look around, searching for the creature haunting his dreams. It was never there. A few hours later he hit it, his limit. His inner room was pure white, and as he released his newest batch of energy it seared him, kicking him out of cultivation. Vaskir arched his back and gritted his teeth against the foreign, but powerful, sensation. He felt a stabilizing hand on his shoulder.

‘You okay?’ Pravin asked. Vaskir gripped his shoulder in return and grinned. Vaskir let out a whoop of joy.

‘Give me your weapons,’ he said, excited. Covens was back in the cart and raised an eyebrow.

‘Are you already at the Foundational bottleneck?’ she asked. ‘Are you about to break through?’ she said with passion, frowning.

‘I don’t care!’ Vaskir said. ‘Now give me your weapons, I’m going to fix them up.’ Covens drew her shortsword and handed it to Vaskir. Pravin did the same. Cradow high-fived him. Three hours later Vaskir had never felt more satisfied with his work. He had tried the dabbing oil on Coven's blade first, thinking that if it was terrible he wouldn’t use it on his own and Pravins, but it was excellent, filling the air with an earthy aroma the second the blade left the scabbard. He rubbed his hands together, still energized.

‘It’s getting late,’ Covens said. ‘Hey, Liolil, mind if we set up camp?’ The cart started slowing down in response. ‘Alright, Vaskir, you're probably going to break through tomorrow. I don’t want you doing it during the night, we don’t want you pulling in any cold energy. So try and sleep, I know it’s going to be hard, but at first light, you’ll be an Ascendant.’ Vaskir grinned. Covens was the best!