What makes a Foundation

I

Application

Believe not,

Want not,

Doubt not,

Will.

- Fuu.

***

We weren't the only ones leaving Zhanhai. The four of us joined an ongoing caravan, making haste for Hanzhen. When we were halfway to our destination, we encountered a similar convoy coming our way. They told us about the fighting that had broken out in their city. The dust had settled on it, but they hoped for some better promise of peace in the city of legends.

It was no surprise, then, that the people from Hanzhen promptly decided to return back home when the two groups finished exchanging experiences. A few dead bodies on the streets weren't nearly as strong a deterrent as the heaven-defying spectacle described by the other side. If some were left unconvinced, the mention of Wang Xuan's personal intervention gave them the last bit of motivation to overhaul their plans.

As we traveled, Nysha was approached by an increasing number of people, asking about the current situation in Dyrakiel. What was life like there? Were outsiders welcome? Could food really grow on sand? She became the center of attention and a spokesperson for her land; a position she grew fond of in a heartbeat. Come to Karza, she invited them with wild claims of prosperity. Our city welcomes all. No war and not a cultivator in sight. You'll fit right in. Did you know that a lot of wind can help children grow both larger and healthier? How else am I taller than all of you? Sand is a blessing for the feet of the elderly, they'll feel their skin as smooth as a baby's within a week!

Karza this, Karza that. How many would decide to take her up on her offer in the end? Although the border had opened up, the journey was far from easy. I doubted their curiosity would survive even a quarter of the distance. Mountains and seemingly endless dunes had prevented the two continents from growing closer. For mortals, especially, the alliance between the Winged Snake Empire and the dyrakian countries was a mere formality that had nothing to do with them.

Let her have her fun, I thought, watching from afar. Discussing the feasibility of her claims could be left for another day.

***

We arrived in Hanzhen, but nothing was as I remembered. The skirmish between mortals had left more devastation behind than the fight between cultivators. Dried puddles of blood spoiled the streets, spotting the cobblestones in the gruesome color of carnage. Women swept up the shards from broken windows while men carried away the rest of their ruined homes.

Few talked, except for the shouting of orders. Guards carrying the emblem of Luo had taken charge of the repairs. Some parts of the city had made it through unscathed, but they remained eerily quiet; their windows shut, closing off the dreary buildings from the outside world.

Too much had changed. The well-known fish markets were gone, no longer drowning the streets in the flavor of the sea. Only the odor of smoke and ashes still remained. The roads leading to and from the city were deserted, travel growing to a standstill as the news spread. I remembered how numerous men and women had offered their aid back when I'd arrived for the first time, looking lost. Even when I'd been rude, having eyes only for the Guild, they carried a rare warmth. Hanzhen, small in comparison, had used to be the kind of city where everyone knew each other. Where had it all gone? It was still the height of summer, yet it was colder than ever. The eyes of goodwill were nowhere to be found. No more did the citizens gaze at one another as their neighbor, but solely with apprehension. The suspicion and fear in their eyes contained a story I didn't care for.

But I caught the sparse mentions of her despite trying not to. It'd already made it this far. The Girl of Courage. The First Rebel. She who showed the way. She who caused ruin. The Red Maiden. Her many names pointed at the same story and I continued to be a part of it as her martyr. My heart jumped each time another whisper crawled into my ears. I almost screamed at all of them. What do you know!? What did I know? Nysha and the twins looked at me with varying expressions of concern, unable to decide whether they should say something. I was glad they didn't. I decided to put all of it out of my mind for later, whenever that would be.

We rented a room managed by the Guild where they decided to wait while I headed for the outpost. It looked the same as anywhere except for the few planks covering it like hastily wrapped bandages. The interior was the same as well, unharmed, entertaining fewer patrons than I was used to seeing. It even had the same bull-man behind the counter, glaring at the jug in his hand.

"Shit," I spun around, hiding my face. What is he doing here? I had chosen Hanzhen because it was the closest place where I'd also least embarrassed myself in the past. Had the Guild relocated him from Zhanhai? What should I do? Guangen was four days away. I wasn't in any hurry and a bit more traveling would be much preferable to this encounter. I began sneaking back out, shrinking into myself as best as I could.

"It's you," I breathed in a coarse puff of smoke and coughed. A firm grab pulled me up into the air by my collar, turning me around to face the pair of bull-eyes squinting at me. "Good. I was in dire need of some entertainment."

"I... uhhm... Greetings! We meet again... I must apologize, but I can't seem to recall your name."

"Gen," his voice rumbled like a landslide.

"Brother Gen," I smiled weakly. I'd have politely bowed, but it was difficult to do when you're suspended in mid-air. "This fool humbly begs of you to please forgive him for his immature display on that day."

"That's it?" Gen looked sincerely disappointed as he dropped me back onto the ground. "How dull," he sauntered back behind the counter. A few daytime drunkards booed from behind the rim of their drinks, demanding from us to duke it out.

"What does the young master want this time?" His chair squealed like a pig as he fell into it. He beckoned with his finger and his feet chopped down on top of the counter like an ax. "Another test for you?"

"Ah, no," I stumbled over my words. A waitress dropped by to hand him another jug. She shot me a nervous glance before she disappeared in the back again. "I'm truly regretful about what happened the last time. Please, do not call me that any longer, Brother Gen."

"Why not?" He gulped down his drink, throwing his jug behind him where it joined more of its like. He grinned with froth sticking to his beard.

"It was," I racked my brain hard, "a case of mistaken identity. I suffered a hit one too many against my head."

"Mistaken, hm..." he grumbled, wiping his mouth off on his sleeve, "fine then, boy. What do you want? Let's get this over with. Guienne, bring me an-otter!" He slurred the words.

"For me too!"

"Make it three!" The room erupted in further calls as they were trying to prove to each other which of them could count highest.

"I'm looking for an advisor," I spoke over their ramblings.

"Go on," he burped louder than I talked.

"I need an appraiser for talents from the Twin-Soul Sect," I handed him a note and his glassy eyes swept over it.

"Now that's more like it," his bellowing laughter carried into the streets. The rest joined him for no particular reason. "Strong words, boy. Might want to rephrase that a bit."

The note contained a message for the sect. Usually, asking for an appraiser to be sent came with a hefty fee. I'd written (read: demanded) that they should send one as soon as possible with the sect covering all the expenses. I'd reimburse them only if they considered their time wasted, which I promised them they wouldn't. A humble and harmless boast that would hopefully spur them.

"It's fine as it is. They can find me and my associates at the southern Guild lodging on the second floor, room thirty-two."

"Your funeral," Gen shrugged his shoulders. "Don't come crying to me later when they rip you off all you're worth. Or your limbs," he put the note away, "anything else?"

"Yes, I want to apply for the next Mortal Trial."

"There it is," he chortled heartily. "Finally woken up from your delusions, eh? We get grunts like you a lot. Foundations fractured and destroyed, and whatnot else, still thinking they're big, hot-shot cultivators. You're doing the right thing, starting over. Quitting altogether might have been just as well. Anyway, acceptance is a good start."

"Thank you for the kind words, Brother Gen. I'm undeserving of them," I bowed.

"You are different from last time," he raised an eyebrow and shooed me off. "Yuck, away with you, this is no fun. The next trial starts on the seventh before sunrise. Bring your pellets, write your will, ya-dee-da, I'm sure you know the drill, goodbye."

Two days. I bid my farewells, about to leave the building, when Gen's voice boomed across the hall, "I forgot."

When I turned around, a crumpled ball of paper bounced off my chest. I unfurled it. "Fill that," he burped again, "out." It was the pact informing me of the dangers of the trials and my mortality (in case I forgot I have only one life.) If I wanted to inform anyone of my potential demise, I was to write that down along with the other miscellaneous information, in case I passed the test.

Correction. On the off-chance you pass the test, I read the messy handwriting. Uplifting. Most of what else it had to say was neither helpful nor new to me.

Warnings of dangers aside, I was reminded to bring my pellets. The numbers of candidates in each trial varied, but it was estimated to be around a hundred. All of us would be thrown into one of the Guild's hidden valleys where the competition for the essences began. We were forbidden from taking any of the essences outside of the trial.

The free-for-all was a concise introduction to the cultivator world. Killing was likewise forbidden and 'frowned upon,' but no one would be punished for an accident. A common joke. Deaths that aren't accidents don't exist in this part of the world. The duration was one week. At the end of it, whether I was successful or not, a cultivator overseeing the trial would get me out. I could also withdraw, which would leave me unable to take the trial again for another year. Interestingly enough there would be a small tournament held after the trial ended, including a consolation price for simply participating. I hadn't heard of that one before, but I wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

The twins welcomed me back at our lodging with forced excitement; they hadn't gotten over Rael and Grey leaving yet. Nysha was out. The three of us decided to spend some time idling around the city, but I didn't last long before I shut myself back in our room. I spent the next day training with Ren whereas Rin went out with Nysha again until it was time for the trial. I hardly slept the night before, staring at her red ribbon.

"Stop worrying," I told Nysha, stiffing a yawn in the dark morning. She'd approached me a few times, trying to change my mind. The trial was less famous for the cultivators it produced than the dead bodies it left in its wake. "I'll be fine. Here's the list I promised you."

"I don't get it," she said, absentmindedly pocketing my note, "why aren't you buying the essence like the rest of us? I've come up with a few ideas for you to earn some pellets. Nobles outside the empire are always looking for martial arts teachers, I found a posting just yesterday. Think about it. What will you do if the essences in the trial are all trash? Or what if..." her words trailed off into nothing.

"In that case, I'd withdraw, which leaves me with a year of spare time, anyway," I smiled confidently, "it's alright, Nysha. I want it this way."

"...Okay?" She looked at me as if I'd gone crazy. I told the three of them to stay put while I was gone. Ren and Rin sent me off with wishes of good fortunes, both convinced I'd come back stronger than ever, but they hid their unease worse than Nysha. I headed to the Guild with a faint smile and warmth budding within my chest. It felt strange to have them worry about me like that.