“Are—are you sure?”

Eunae was hesitating. Terrified of what her friends were offering, but strangely compelled. It was an incredible sign of trust. Though it was the basis of her cultivation, Yoshika was extremely selective about her joint meditation. Aside from each other, only Rika and Heian had ever joined them in fully merging their souls like that—and Heian was already part of Jia’s to begin with.

It felt wrong. They couldn’t trust Eunae with something like that—shouldn’t trust her. Eunae had gained better control and understanding of her soul, but the malevolence of the Kumiho still dwelled within her. It wasn’t safe.

She started to shake her head, but a reassuring hand on her back stopped her. She looked up to see Rika smiling down at her—ever the supportive rock in her life.

“It’s fine, Eunae. I think it’s a good idea. It’s a little weird at first, but you get used to it.”

“Didn’t you have to go through some sort of trial first—to make sure it was safe?”

Yoshika shook her heads. It had been a while since she’d heard them speak in chorus, but they had often acted in a more singular capacity recently.

“We’ve come to understand our own cultivation a lot better since then. You’ll be safe, we promise.”

Eunae swallowed nervously. Her safety wasn’t what she was most concerned about. Before she could say as much, Lin Xiulan approached.

“Pardon the interruption, but did I overhear correctly? Are you suggesting some kind of triple cultivation?”

Yoshika nodded.

“Yes. We’ve done it for short periods before, but only with Rika.”

“Interesting. Well, I suppose this won’t be helpful since it’s obviously wrong, but common knowledge—such as it is—among dual cultivators is that triple cultivation is impossible. The souls of the participants become too entangled to do anything but pull away from each other rather traumatically.”

“We’ve experienced something like what you’re describing. I think that’s what would happen if we tried it with most people, but Eunae should be fine.”

Eunae remembered the unusual meditation session with Yoshika, when she’d pulled several of them into her soulscape at once with her Melody of the Dreaming Moon. Iseul had insisted on being subjected to soulfire—a familiar behavior from her, in retrospect—and when it nearly killed her, Yoshika formed a strange sort of chain between everyone in an attempt to use Eunae’s control of Soulfire to save the little elemental.

It worked, but the experience was...bizarre. It was hard for Eunae to remember, but their inner spirits had spoken to each other in an almost indescribable dream. In the end, Heian took on some of the Soulfire in order to save Iseul, which changed her in ways they were still learning.

“Yoshika, if it’s going to be like the last time...”

“It won’t. That was different. There were too many people, and the bonds were too weak. Something we did out of desperation. This will be safe—you’re already part of us. Family.”

Eunae bit her lip. Family had a very different meaning to her than it did to Yoshika.

“Alright, let’s not waste any more time then.”

Lin Xiulan propped her chin on one hand.

“May I observe this? I think whatever you’re about to do is going to be extremely valuable to witness. I’d consider it a favor.”

Eunae struggled to contain her shock. A favor from an immortal grandmaster was not a small offer. Even Misun took promises very seriously, and she hadn’t been immortal for very long.

In typical Yoshika fashion, she just shrugged. Not a single one of her bodies gave any indication that she realized or cared about how serious Lin Xiulan’s request was.

“We don’t mind. We really should hurry, though. The spirit is in a lot of pain, and I don’t want to prolong its suffering any longer than we have to.”

Yoshika was such a strange couple. Compassion for unknown spirits, flagrant disregard for social order, and a willingness to do things that others would never dream possible—it was what Eunae appreciated about them.

“What do I do?”

“Just sit down in a circle with us. I’ll guide you through it...”

Eunae did as she was told, and soon found herself holding hands with Jia and Eui, with Heian sitting right in the middle of the three of them.

“It’s good that you unified your cultivation recently. We’re going to send you essence through our aura. Circulate it through your mind, body, and soul, then send it back to us.”

She made it sound so simple, but Eunae knew better than that. For Yoshika it was as easy as breathing, but moving essence through her soul like that was incredibly difficult.

Still, Eunae did as she was told, carefully guiding the essence Yoshika fed her through her meridians, letting it suffuse her body, and then pulling it deep into the core of her dantian.

She messed up and had to start over a few times, but Yoshika was patient. Something in the pit of Eunae’s soul told her that she was making a mistake—that she had to stop. Eunae crushed it. Yoshika was her friend, and she would return the trust she was given in kind.

When Eunae finally managed to complete the full circuit, everything changed at once.

A wave of disorientation washed over her. She’d been keeping her side of things ready to join with Eunae as soon as she was ready. Or wait—she was Eunae. Yoshika had prepared to guide her—no, she was Yoshika too.

She took a deep breath with all three of her physical bodies, and cleared her mind. Simple meditation first—she needed to ease herself into it. She was Jia—Eui’s partner, Eunae’s friend, and Heian’s mother. She loved her family, and would protect them fiercely.

She was Eui. Jia was her lover, her partner, and her other half. Jia’s family was her family, and she would never let anything threaten them.

She was the spirit, Heian. A new form of an old being that was learning to see the world in ways that she’d never known possible. She loved her mothers, and she hoped that one day she’d be able to teach them to see her world, as they’d taught her to see theirs.

She was Eunae. Broken and forgotten. Unworthy of the kindness she’d been given, and terrified that she would bring harm to those who had finally brought happiness to her life.

She was Yoshika, in all her forms. Unity incarnate. A being that thrived on trust and cooperation. Each bond she shared strengthened her and those around her. She dreamed to uplift those around her, that they might also support her in turn.

Each aspect was her, and she was all of them. She shared their strengths as they supported each other’s weaknesses. More than the sum of her parts—she was the unified form of their potential.

Yoshika blinked her eyes open. That had been more difficult than usual, and she quickly identified why. One of her aspects chafed against the idea of unity. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say part of an aspect.

She sighed. There were better things to spend her time on, but this was a thorn that would continue to prick her if she didn’t deal with it now. Focusing inward, she entered the depths of her soulscape to confront the rebellious piece of her soul.

“I thought I told you it was a thousand years too early for you to steal from me. Yet not once or twice, but three times now you have violated my sovereignty.”

The Kumiho’s fragment greeted Yoshika harshly as she arrived within the familiar inner sanctum of her soul. It was slightly different from usual—including elements of the house Eunae had shared with Rika, as well as a garden courtyard far too large for the little house, which matched her favorite place back in the palace.

“I haven’t taken anything from you that wasn’t already mine. We are one.”

The fox spirit scoffed, her nine tails shifting restlessly. For once, she hadn’t taken Eunae’s form—instead appearing as an actual fox with white and black fur and deep blue eyes.

“Sophistry! I am only part of you now because you seized me against my will!”

Yoshika shook her head. Her own tails had grown more numerous, and she enjoyed the way each one moved independently of the others.

“I am Eunae, and you have always been part of me. It’s only your obsession with control and my naive attempts to deny you that allow you to continue to take an antagonistic form like this. I’ve dealt with your kind before.”

The Kumiho froze, her retort dying on her lips as Yoshika’s words sank in. She knew they were true.

“Oh, you have, haven’t you. Defeated your spirit of limitless greed with one of limitless charity, hm? Clever, but you won’t be rid of me so easily.”

“Thankfully not. Creating a third core would be extremely troublesome and probably lock me like this forever. No, you’re going to be much easier to deal with—come here.”

Yoshika took a step forward and reached down to pick up the fox.

“Wait no, you can’t—!”

Though the Kumiho had appeared as large as she was, Yoshika was in total control of her own soul, and by the time she wrapped her hands around the spirit, it was no bigger than a dog. Yoshika hugged the fox to her chest and stroked its fur gently.

“Shh. I’m sorry for denying you. You are as important a part of me as any other. I promise to make up for neglecting you all these years, but we’ve got something important to do first, and I need you.”

“Tsk, of course you need me. You’d be nothing without—stop petting me!”

“But your fur is so soft...”

The fox struggled fruitlessly, but eventually relented under Yoshika’s full-force affection.

“F-fine! I’ll cooperate if you stop!”

“No.”

The fragment of the Kumiho’s will tried to growl, but it came out as more of a purr.

“Then you must pet me one thousand more times. No—a thousand thousand.”

“We don’t have time for a million pets.”

“...I will accept a promise of future affection.”

Yoshika nodded.

“Done.”

With that, the Kumiho vanished—or rather became a part of Yoshika, as it always had been. She wasn’t sure how long that distraction had taken, but it had been necessary. Without wasting any more time, she reached out directly from within her soul to the spirit of shadow that had been living inside of her ring for so long.

In a way, it was her mother—or maybe father, not that it had a gender. It had also once been another part of her—or her a part of it. The distinction didn’t feel important anymore.

She called it forth, inviting it from its vessel into hers—as a visitor, not as a new aspect. The spirit accepted, a massive black panther manifesting directly into her living room and immediately flopping onto the floor, bleeding from every orifice and several deep gashes.

Yoshika put her hands on her hips and frowned.

“Oh, you poor thing. You’re bleeding all over my nice furniture. Let’s relocate.”

With a thought, they were out in the courtyard. Yoshika knelt down and ran a hand gently over the shadow spirit's fur. It looked up and met her eyes plaintively.

“Please...it hurts...”

Its voice was quiet and androgynous, and it spoke without moving its lips. Not true words, or a real voice, but Yoshika could understand it much more clearly now.

“I know. I’m here to help. I apologize in advance, though.”

She rose to her feet and focused, drawing her power out in the form of two phantom tails of ghostly black and green flames. Each was long, thin, and independently prehensile like her others, and with an effort of will, she concentrated them each down until they formed impossibly thin threads.

“I can close your wounds, but it’s not going to be pleasant.”

The panther lowered its head and closed its eyes, directly communicating its assent through the connection between their souls. Yoshika took a deep breath and got to work.