A long time ago i found a corpse and a book.

I, Ghali, was born to a then tiny clan named Hansa. A clan from the remote and poor Emerald Plains.

Back then the region was a flatland that was filled with swamps, bogs and woods, untamed by the hands of man.

I was on a hunting trip in the forest, my first in fact, when I stumbled on the mummified remains of a Cultivator. Only identifiable trough the remains of a moldy Robe, the body hacked to pieces.

I dug a grave and carefully laid the remains into the wet and musky forest soil and prayed to the spirits of the forest for the safe passing of this lost soul.

Before i left i had spotted a thin book in a rotten tree stump. It was hidden there by the dead stranger, and was revealed by the years that passed. While the stump crumbled over time, the book did not.

It felt strange to the touch, a tingling sensation, and neither dirt nor water seemed to stick to it.

Written on it, in lush-green Letters, was “Water Lily Technique”.

What I have found is one of the fabled cultivation-manuals !

I sat on a nearby rock, leaning my back on a pine, while the afternoon sun pierced the canopy illuminating the pages for me. Fidgeting with anticipation I started to read the mysterious booklet.

Licking my lips I read on, glued to the contents of the book so much so that I forgot my surroundings. After the introduction came the breathing techniques, chants and diagrams explaining the principles behind magic theory.

At times it was difficult. The manual was needlessly philosophical while at the same time sparse with information. But the worst parts were the ones that were using the ancient talisman script. I wasn't able to read those back then.

The unknown cultivator however wrote annotations on the margins and added pages at the end which explained common misconceptions, translations for when the ancient script of the Cultivators were used and even had phonetics for the chants and spells.

Spells! The book claimed that these were just the most common ones, but I didn't care the least.

Frantic I read on and like a madman was flipping between pages to make sense of this treasure.

The Sun was beginning to set over the forest, when I finally put the book away, now that the crimson sheen warned me of the coming night.

I made my way back to my Village, soon as the pale late summer Moon turned the darkening forest gray and the night started its symphony.

Surrounded by the dark, I narrowly arrived at the forests edge where I had to prepare my nights rest. Traveling at night was too dangerous in the bog.

Ahead i could make out the dark shape of my village, crested atop a small hill, illuminated by silver light that turned the grass that covered the peat-thatched roofs that peeked over the palisades and earthwork into silver and the creak behind the hill into flowing mercury.

The cities were far away and our clans village was the all of the world we knew, hadn't it been for third uncle, I wouldn't even been able to read and write.

While I set my camp I was sending silent prayers to the five spirits for success for I decided to try to cultivate for the first time in my life.

Sitting on a flat rock and facing my village, as I watched how the wind gently rocked the bog-reeds and the smell of the night herbs drew all kinds of glow-bugs from their hideouts.

Calmed by the familiar scenery, I closed my eyes and settled into the mind-state of meditation and lowly chanting the verses of the “Water Lily Technique” manual.

To my surprise a tiny spark of energy, the size of a dust-speck, appeared inside of me.

It was my first mote of magical qi charged with the energy of heaven and earth.

Eagerly I tried the easiest of the spells; “Spiritual sense”.

To do so all one need is to send the mote of qi to the third eye that was hidden behind the middle of the brow.

At first I was disappointed that the bogs appearance didn't change much.

It was brighter now and only the faint outlines of spiritual herbs and some motes of free floating motes could be seen. It was hard to differentiate between the glow bugs and the tiny specks.

But then I turned my head upwards to look at the stars.

What wonder! My eyes didn't see an obsidian sky filled with white specks but a fog like colorful clouds that connect the in between of the stars. The Stars them self were almost beyond description as they shone with brilliant magnificent light.

The Moon had a faintly silvery sheen and the moonlight looked liked spun silk. When the light reached our worlds it was absorbed high above and for the first time I saw the opaque ceiling of the world.

Fascinated I stared at the sky not noting how time passed, until the Sun rose and sent its golden glow over the forest into the bog. White hazy fog rose up and all the different critters went back to hiding same as the stars.

While I packed my things, the morning bird greeted the dawn and the smell of fresh dew filled my nostrils, no tiredness to be felt despite staying up all night.

Following the treacherous path towards my village for two hours, my feet finally met the wooden planks that served as our roads in the bog.

They were fastened together atop stilts, like flat little bridges that reached only as far as our paddy fields and peat cutters went.

At the end of the bog waited gravel road that led up the hill on which the Hansa clan's village rested.

To enter the village one had to pass a trench and cross over one of the small drawbridges that surrounded the village at all four corners of heaven.

The earthen wall that served as another layer of protection. Only ladders, ramps and cranes led to the inside. It was held between the two rows of palisades preventing the rain from washing the earth away.

The Guards patrolling atop the earthwork, hardened by countless boots, lowered a ladder to let me in.

Climbing over the edge came what waited inside into full view.

The houses looked like grass overgrown jagged hills while their fronts made of clay and wood. Small sheep grazed atop and on the lawns of the houses while herbs and spices were grown in hanging pots so the sheep couldn't reach them.

The stairs led down from the walls on to the paths connecting the houses and their wooden porches.

Happy bleating could be heard and the smell of peat fire filled the air as I made my way across the waking village.

There were two large Houses made from strong timber and red-fired bricks.

The Main hall where decisions were made, festivals were held, and marriages were conducted. The other one was the school of third Uncle.

He was the third son of the Clan head and was send to the city to get an education when he was little.

He was the one I wanted to meet as i hurried towards the School. I found him inside, his stocky frame bending over a table as he was preparing for the upcoming class.

He was on the taller side as most Hansas are and his brown hair and immaculate mustache giving him a scholastic look that suited him well.

“Good morning, master Bran!” I said, “I found a cultivation manual!”

“ Hahaha, a good joke, Ghali! And a good morning to you too!” he laughed heartily until he saw what I held in my outstretched arms.

His smile freezing on his face and his hand slowly outstretching he seemed to remember something. “Well it shouldn't be a real one unless....AH” his hand touched the manual and retracted as if burned.

“Damn... yes that one is real!” he grunted.

I was shook “Are you alright master? What happened?”

“I am fine. I’m fine!” he said knocking his chest and coughing embarrassed “It’s just that the qi have some effect on ones inner energy. You are able to touch this book, Ghali?”

“Then... that means you have the talent to become a Cultivator.” he said deep in thought. I waited for him to continue.

I asked anxiously and confused: “What going to happen now?”