“Hey, do you remember Rubin? From Greenhill?”

“The fire and ice coin? Didn't he use to come to the festivals with his folks? Red eyes, kinda spooky looking?”

“Yeah, that’s him. You didn't ever really talk with him, right?”

“No, why?”

“Supposedly he found the inheritance of some rogue master, something to do with cycles, and figured out how to cultivate. Now he’s shooting fire out of his mouth, going around and burning down the houses of everyone who used to pick on him.”

“Aspects.”

“Yeah.”

“... Do you think we should apologize to Arlen?”

“I'll make him a cake.”

*********

“It is unfortunate that I had to interrupt your lesson, but crises never wait for us to be prepared, I'm afraid. If any of you have questions on what Elder Sun has covered so far, I will be happy to answer them in his stead.” Elder Rime said, with a voice like the ring of a blacksmith's hammer.

This time, it was a preexisting sect disciple’s turn to struggle to his feet. He was short for a permafrost cultivator, having to look up at the elder, and his hair was an uncharacteristic light brown. “Elder, what in the world is that thing?” He said, his voice tinged with more awe than worry.

“An elemental, of course.” She looked at him, quizzically. “You have certainly seen them before. Several of our elders and inner disciples keep them as companions, and Elder Memory insists on letting that spider ride around on her head. It’s rather hard to miss.”

The disciple’s eyes widened, and he visibly swallowed. “Do… do they all grow that big?”.

The elder’s eyes crinkled, and she looked back down the mountain at the behemoth that had managed to take one more step thus far. “I believe I see the disconnect. No, that one is a notable outlier. How long has your class been with us?”

“Three months, elder. Since the new year.”

“That's right, so you just missed the last confluence.” She took a moment to watch the action as the elemental’s foot was lowering to land squarely on a frozen pond. A split second before impact, the water liquified and the creature's leg plunged downward another unexpected thirty meters. The high water mark only reached the thing’s ankle, but it found itself stumbling when the water of the lake refroze, giving it an impromptu boot. “Let me clarify with a question. Most of you likely know what elementals are, but how are they formed? Where do they come from?”

Another ice cultivator, Amy it turned out, stood and was acknowledged. “I’ve heard it described as something like rain. Energy builds up like water in a cloud until there’s nowhere else for it to go, then it turns into something else to make space.”

The elder nodded, affably. “A reasonable analogy. To rephrase, elementals are energy, coalesced. Since a critical mass of energy is required to create one, where could we expect to find them? Where does that energy come from?

“...the environment?”

“Broadly true, yes. Any particular environment?”

“I’m not certain, elder.”

“Perfectly reasonable.” said the elder, but Amy still looked disappointed as she sat back down. “Energy is created by creatures and physical objects that align with a particular affinity. You are all intimately aware of this, as that is where you find energy to cycle. In a well balanced environment, the energy generated by any particular feature is diluted and neutralized by the energy around it, and has no chance to accumulate. However, some environments produce only a few types of energy, or in very rare cases, only one. Volcanoes, Subterranean Caves, Mountain Peaks. These locations are excellent for finding natural treasures, spiritual beasts, and elementals, all of which are created by gluts of one particular energy.”

Down on the tundra, roughly ten of the behemoth’s paces away, directly in its path, a pillar of stone was rising out of the ground. It grew from a wide base, becoming narrower as it shot upward, a giant spire that quickly reached head level with the beast, then passed it, a lance aiming to puncture the sky.

“So, if an environment that is aligned with one particular energy can create high-density areas which coalesce, and qi is energy with a good deal more power and… personality, let’s say, what would happen if you had an environment that was adapting to create more and more of one particular type of qi?”

From the tip of the spire, ribbons of mist began to coalesce out of the air. Characters, concentric circles and interwoven lines made up of the silver streams locked into place, where even with the magnification of the lens, they could only see a tiny speck of the shade of gray that marked elders’ robes. The intricate designs wrought in silver formed a disk, which began to spin and tilt on its axis.

The disciples watched in awe as all of the remaining mist that hadn’t burned off with the morning sun streamed up above the spire, where it solidified into a series of curved panes of clear ice. When the light of the morning sun hit the largest pane, which was larger than the mainsail of any merchant’s ship, it narrowed and hit the next, growing brighter and thinner until it formed a beam, then a slice in the sky that hurt to look at even halfway up the mountain.

The beam landed directly on the behemoth’s chest, where it passed clear through to the other side of the monster cleanly, as if there was nothing there to obstruct its path. There was no impact, no sound as the pinpoint line of light moved with the angle of the lenses, as the formation continued to tilt. The beast showed no reaction, and didn't appear to be hurt until the light carved its way down the thing’s torso, leaving a barely visible line of black across it’s chest and out the side. As the beam came back for another pass, the beast slowly began to crumple, losing the ability to support its weight over the course of an agonizing minute as the beam swept through it again and again. Eventually, a deep moan sounded that shook the entire mountain, and the creature lost its shape, reverting to a sagging hill of mud and snow.

“Qi use alters the environment, which leads to qi buildup, which creates issues we need to address with qi. A nasty snowball effect that Elder Sun believes your class is the key to solving. I’m skeptical, but he has certainly earned enough latitude for us to test out his theories.”

She looked out into the distance one more, before clapping her hands once. “Well, disciples, I’m certain that Elder Sun had further plans for this lesson, but that will have to be postponed for the moment. You will have the rest of the day free, use it wisely.”

******

It was early afternoon, and Jack found himself alone for the first time since he had boarded the carriage from his home. He and Sollen had limped back to their room after being dismissed by Elder Rime, and immediately took the chance to bathe and change their clothes. They had their own bathroom with indoor plumbing, which he probably shouldn’t be surprised by. They seem to have everything in this sect.

They had gone to eat breakfast afterward, but Sollen was even worse of a conversationalist than usual. He seemed to still feel guilty about not being able to Jack, but Jack didn’t see why. It wasn’t as if he could have defied an elder, and besides, everyone has things to keep to themselves. Jack certainly had a few. Best not to worry about it. He had begged off afterwards to go cultivate, and Jack was on his own.

So, he found himself wandering the streets, meandering towards the main thoroughfares. It was bustling at this time in the afternoon, intricately carved streets filled with people laughing and chatting, occasionally scampering up or down ladders to a catwalk, or strolling up a ramp. Roughly one in four were wearing sect robes, which was honestly less than he expected. What kind of sect was this? It was nothing like what he remembered of the Sunbelt compound.

He spilled out from an alley into the main eastern way, and was nearly bowled over by the hustle and bustle of an active market. Carts rolled up and down the center of the road, which was lined on either side by storefronts and stalls selling everything from weapons to exotic fruit. Many of the storefronts had merchants standing at their doors, working the crowd, hoping to draw in some business. One of them locked eyes with Jack, a very wide smile on his face.

“Young master!” he said, strolling up. “First time on the Mountain? Yes? It is hot, no? Come in, come in…”

He bustled Jack into a building with cabinets and cupboards covering every inch of the walls, but the actual floor of the shop was sleek and minimal, with nothing on display. The merchant pulled a long coil of ribbon out of a pocket and began taking the measurements of an overwhelmed Jack.

“Yes? How did… is it that obvious?”

“Yes, yes. No one dresses heavily on their second visit to the mountain, my friend. We will have to get you some lighter clothes. How long are you planning on staying?”

“For a while? I think I live here now.”

“Truly? Not a merchant, then.” He walked over to an unmarked wall, pulled out a drawer and began rifling through fabrics. “An apprentice? A blacksmith, weaver, alchemist? Librarian, tailor, physician? What work will you be doing, what outfits will you need?”

“Sect robes?” Jack hedged. “I just got taken on as a new disciple.”

“A new disciple class? I see, I see. The hardest and the easiest to outfit. Sturdy and light. Easy to clean, easy to repair, you are no noble’s son?” He pulled up short, fixing Jack with an inquisitive look.

“N… no?” Jack could barely keep up with the merchant’s rapid-fire patter.

“No, of course. No imbued robes then, not yet, not yet. Will you pay with silver or sect credit?”

“I have some money. What’s sect credit?”

“Currency! Complete jobs for the sect, contribute at an assignment hall, sell to the elders, you get sect credit. Everyone takes it. Silver tends to lose its luster when an elder can draw a chunk of silver the size of a man up from the mountain to pay for a kabob. Luckily, they don't do that anymore. Much.”

“I don't have any of that, yet. How much is a robe?” Jack surreptitiously patted his pockets. He had brought his life savings with him to the sect, which wasn't much.

“Tell you what. You are a new disciple, training everyday? Certainly the elders would not want you to have no clothes to train in. I will make you two, and send an invoice to logistics, see if I can't convince them to pay for you. If I cannot, consider them a gift.”

“Why would you do that? I can pay-”

“I insist, I insist. If you need more than two, or if you ever wish to purchase higher-end robes, more suitable to a higher level of cultivation, you will remember your friend Ivan, yes?”

Alright, that Jack could wrap his head around. He dipped his head to the merchant. “Then consider me in your debt.”

The merchant’s smile grew even wider, if that was possible. “No debt, no debt. What should I call you, young master?”

“Jack. Just Jack.”

“Jack it is, my friend. Now, on to the most important question.” He paused dramatically, before whipping a bolt of tan fabric out of the drawer. “Color! All outer sect robes are this color, of course” he said, brandishing the fabric. “But you can still choose the accents, no? Permafrost cultivators love their black and blue, some even use both” he shuddered visibly at the thought “Dressed like a walking bruise. But you are no ice cultivator, yes?”

“Yes? Wait, no?”

“No, yes, of course.” he sized Jack up, taking in the red hair and green eyes. “Heat and… something. Earth, maybe?”

Jack hesitated. Well, the merchant had been nothing but kind to him so far, and the sect had taken him in despite his affinities. “Growth.”

A testament to the merchant's skill, his eyes only widened briefly before he reigned in his alarm and the practiced salesman’s smile returned to his face. “Heat and Growth, yes, of course.” He turned back around to rifle through the fabric, again. He glanced back over his shoulder. For the first time, the merchant seemed hesitant as he spoke. “Do you wish to advertise, young master? Some forgo the accents altogether, or I could put them in blue, if you prefer. It is not required that you match your affinities.”

A surge of defiance welled up in Jack. “I’m here for a reason, aren’t I? Let’s advertise.”

Ivan’s hands paused rifling through the fabric for a moment, before resuming. “Very well.” He turned back around, and a little of the merchant’s smile was missing, but what was left seemed a little more genuine, a bit more set.

They eventually settled on accents of a deep green, which matched his eyes, and Jack left the store with instructions to come back the next day to pick up his robes. As he made his way back to his room, both merchant and customer hoped against hope that they hadn’t just made a huge mistake.