When Kan was a child, the Shrine was the holiest place he could think of in the whole world. Before he became an apprentice, his parents took him there every new moon for prayers, and he was always awestruck by the divine, solemn air filling the gilded altars. When he chose to join the priests after he grew up, it was for the profound peace and the sense of belonging as much as the power he yearned to wield.

He had thought he might find the same feeling at the Temples despite their differences. As their wagon climbed steadily higher on the Skyward Mountains and the spires of the pagodas peeked through the treetops, he became less certain. The intention behind the invitation remained unclear, and the mere existence of undisciplined and irresponsible apprentices like Wy didn’t speak well for the shamans. Kan no longer knew what to expect.

“I will stop by the Temple of Python first to hand over Wy to the Keeper,” Meizo said when they came to a crossroad. “You may come along if you wish.”

Kan nodded. “How many temples are there?”

“Four. Each sits on a summit of the four highest peaks of this mountain range and venerates the guardian god in that cardinal direction: the azure dragon in the east, the vermilion phoenix in the south, the white tiger in the west, and the black python in the north. All four have their own Keepers and operate independently, though we usually try to reach an agreement on important matters. You can tell a member by the color of their robes.”

“Which one matches gray?” Kan gestured at the gray-robed Wy, who still hadn’t said a word the entire trip.

“Gray is for general apprentices. They attend group training without a formal master, have less access to resources, and are usually … less disciplined.”

Kan wanted to roll his eyes. Not that he disagreed with the judgment, but Meizo was too fast at pushing Wy out to shield the blame for the Temples, just like what the Shrine did to Kan. Honor. Grace. Fame. These were always what mattered most to them, shamans and priests alike.

He looked up as the wagon crossed the grand gate to the Temple of Python. It stood tall as a three-story building, framed in the flaming red maples of late October. The setting sun cast a golden glow over the black lacquer bearing the temple’s name.

“Why the Temple of Python if he’s a general apprentice?” he asked.

Meizo’s expression turned a strange combination of sourness and resignation. “The Keeper here is least occupied.”

The implication was lost on Kan when he stepped into the main hall. The Keeper was crouching on the floor buried in a huge heap of books. A thick volume lay in the crook of his arm, and he was studying the opened page so carefully that Kan thought it’d be rude to interrupt. He certainly didn’t look unoccupied.

“Yeven.” Meizo lowered his head in a simple greeting.

Yeven made a sound in response but didn’t look up from the book.

Meizo continued, “There was a conflict this morning between a general apprentice and commoners in town. I’ve brought the apprentice here—”

“How many times do I need to tell all of you I’m busy?” Yeven’s eyes flicked in Meizo’s direction, then landed back on his book. “Reading is important. The rest of you should try to spend more time on it, and then maybe one day you’ll become more respectful of how I spend mine.”

“I have a lot of respect for reading, my friend, just not for the types of books you choose.”

It wasn’t until then that Kan noticed the titles of the books on the floor: Bestiary of the Forgotten Land, Illustrated Adventures of the Legendary Fairy Hunter, His Highness and the Nine-Tailed Fox Consort … Kan’s first impression of the Keeper wavered.

“Myths are lost truths in disguise,” Yeven drawled. “No one ever listens to me. Who’s the other boy?” He lifted his head and pointed at Kan with his chin.

Kan was hardly a boy, especially considering Yeven looked barely thirty himself. Although one could never tell a shaman’s real age by appearances—once they reach Sixth Stage, divine power would fully cleanse their bodies and stop their features from changing. Kan suspected Yeven must be at least Seventh Stage to be a Keeper, which meant he shouldn’t be younger than sixty.

“Saiyon’s new apprentice,” Meizo introduced. “He just arrived with me today.”

“I’m not anyone’s apprentice yet,” Kan reminded them. “I’ve made it clear before entering your front gate: I will only stay if I can choose my own master.”

“Easy, Kan. We’re not slavers,” Meizo chuckled. “We’ll be at the Temple of Dragon soon to have the discussion I promised.”

“I’m afraid not,” Yeven said, “Saiyon is away for at least the next two months.” He studied Kan with a casual interest. “Why do you not want to be his apprentice? He’s a Grand Master and one of the most powerful here at the Temples. Training with him is almost a guarantee to the brightest future imaginable.”

Because I still don’t know why he wants me here, Kan thought. And because promises like these never hold. “I’d like the freedom to find a path that suits me,” he said instead.

Yeven didn’t probe further. Meizo spoke instead. “Where’s Saiyon?”

“Evernight Forest,” Yeven said. “The Seer has sensed another Artifact flare, ten times stronger than the one you were sent for.”

“Another?” Meizo asked in surprise, then turned pensive. “The Artifact I retrieved … had some issues on the way. We encountered a big group of low-level demons.”

Yeven narrowed his eyes. “The Seer would need to know this immediately.” He looked at Kan. “It seems everyone will be busy for a while, boy, and you won’t get a chance to find your path until Saiyon returns. Would you settle for a general apprenticeship before then?”

Meizo protested before Kan could reply, “You know Saiyon has high expectations of him, Yeven. General apprentices don’t receive sufficient attention and resources. It’ll be a waste of his talent.”

“I’ve received no attention or resources for years,” Kan said. “I think what I can get as a general apprentice will be plenty.”

What he didn’t say was that he wanted more time around the Temples without making a commitment. A master was for a lifetime, and he didn’t want to treat it lightly.

The casual interest returned in Yeven’s gaze. “You are practical for your age,” he said. “I’ll have Toku show you to the general hall then.”

An apprentice appeared in the doorway as if Yeven had summoned him with thoughts. He extended his arm in a “this way please” gesture. Kan turned to Meizo who looked like he still wanted to argue further. “I appreciate your concern, Master Meizo, but rest assured you’ll see me stronger in two months.”

It was a promise to himself as well.