“Okay class, last question,” Aria said, hands on her hips as she looked out at the semicircle of young faces. “What do you want to be when you grow up?”

  Predictably, every hand shot up.

  “Cultivator!” shouted Nico, who had a missing front tooth and a permanent smudge on his cheek.

  “Me too!” yelled Gia. “I’ll be the strongest cultivator ever. Stronger than Topaz!”

  A chorus of agreement rippled through the dozen or so children packed into the little chamber, the eldest barely fourteen, the youngest not more than ten. Aria couldn’t help but smile as she folded her arms and leaned back against the wall.

  “Oh? All of you? Not a farmer among you?” she teased. “No one wants to be a blacksmith? Or, Tenjin forbid, a scribe?”

  Silence.

  She sighed dramatically. “So you all want to run around waving Ki-Fortified blades and picking fights with Reijuu, do you?”

  That got a few cheers and a laugh.

  “Alright then,” she said, clapping her hands once. “Let’s see how much you actually know. How do cultivators contribute to society?” When she saw the confused faces, she decided to put it more simply. “How do they gain pearls?”

  “They fight!” Kaen offered. “Kill wild beasts and Reijuu!”

  “Some of them, yes,” Aria said. “That’s part of it. Cultivators get hired by nobles or towns when a beast population gets dangerously large. Sometimes they’re also sent to collect rare herbs or artefacts from dangerous places. And other times...?”

  She waited, letting the silence stretch, but the children just gaped at her.

  “Investigations,” she continued. “Tracking people. Gathering information. This can be quite lucrative, for those cultivators with the right skillset. I remember a time I saw a cultivators get paid three bags of pearls just to prove a woman was lying to her husband.”

  That got a few gasps.

  “But,” she said, her tone dropping slightly, “the truth is, most cultivators don’t work for themselves. They’re taken in by sects and clans. What do they do there?”

  Gia’s hand went up again. “...fight?”

  “Labor,” Aria corrected. “Most outer clan members are given menial duties, most often hard labour. Construction. Guard duty. Mining. A few make it into the inner circles, but most end up as workhorses.”

  The group quieted.

  “The truth is that out of a hundred cultivators, only one or two achieve success on their own. That’s not to scare you,” she added, sitting down as she softened her voice. “If that’s your dream, you should follow it. But you should just know what to expect. Working on a farm or in a recycling mill is not a bad occupation. It can allow you to stay close to your families, instead of traveling far away.”

  Nico slowly raised a hand. “Go ahead,” she said with an encouraging smile.

  “But isn’t your husband a cultivator? And your sons, too?”

  “One of my sons, yes. The other might be, one day,” she said softly. “But they’re not running around fighting monsters! He’s a scholar, they read books and write all the time. Which reminds me, it’s time for your homework assignments.”

  After giving the assignment despite groans of protest, she ended the class and the children scattered out into the playground, shouting and laughing as they went.

  Aria lingered in the doorway, watching them go with a sad smile. It had been a while since she’d last taught a class and she’d forgotten how much she enjoyed it. She’d gathered a class again mostly to keep busy and stop worrying about Dario, but she felt resolved to do it more often.

  Her feet took her down past the gardens, greeting neighbors as she passed. She tried to keep her pace casual and her face pleasant, but inside, a familiar tightness was growing in her chest.

  Dario was supposed to be back today. She hadn’t heard any news in the last ten days. In the past, that wouldn’t have bothered her much, but ever since Matteo left, he’d changed. Before leaving, he’d promised her he’d be back on time. Promised.

  “Has anyone seen or heard anything about Dario?” she asked Carla, who was kneeling beside a cloth-dye basin, sorting old robes.

  The older woman shook her head. “No, dearie. Haven’t seen him in a good while. Nobody else has either. At least, not that I’ve heard of. Sorry dearie. I’m sure he’ll be back soon.”

  Aria nodded, lips pressed together in a tight line. “Thanks.”

  She continued, lost in thought, finding herself moving away from the Belt, to the road that led to Endanshi. The wilds were not safe, everybody knew that, but he’d just gone out as a scout to help some noble. There were even two Ambers with them, so what could have possibly gone wrong? Her days of cultivating were long behind her, but she was certain there was nothing stronger than an Amber down there.

  The sound of wagon wheels on dirt made her look up, and she recognized Luca.

  “Luca! Did you just come back from Endanshi?”

  The broad-shouldered man looked up and gave a tired smile. “Aria, how goes it? Just got back in, but I’ll be headed out again soon enough. Busy times at the market, you know, with the Ascension festival coming up. All the visitors are pining for the local delicacies.”

  “Did you happen to see Dario at the market?”

  “Can’t say I did. His stall was empty. He wasn’t there the week before, either, come to think of it.”

  “He’s been off on a mission in the wilds,” she said, her eyes tight with concern.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  He gave her a reassuring look. “He’ll be fine. I don’t think anything out there can catch that one, truth be told. He’s got more tricks up his sleeve than a jester.”

  She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Thanks Luca.”

  The farmer trudged off, muttering something about the trogs being ready to blow. She gazed out over the road to Endanshi, that all too familiar fear closing its claws around her stomach.

  First Amedeo, drawn up the floors once again by his grand ambitions, consumed by fantasies of saving Tenjou from some far-away calamity. No matter how much she’d begged him to let other people handle it, told him that his family needed him too, he’d always insisted that it would have been selfish. That his skills were needed for the greater good, and what he was doing was protecting them. In a way, she’d always suspected that day would come; he’d never been a man to leave anything up to chance.

  But then her sweet Matteo had gone too.

  She felt tears pricking at her eyes as her breaths came faster, the cloying feeling spreading from her stomach up to her chest.

  It was normal for children to leave the nest and there had been plenty of happiness and pride mixed in with the sadness, when he left. But eventually, after a few too many lonely nights in a quiet house, the sadness was all that was left.

  What hurt was that he’d never even written. Matteo had always loved to write. Had something happened to him, up there on the second floor?

  And now her crazy little Dario.

  She reached a hand out to steady herself on a wall. Her breath hitched, and her throat began to tighten.

  But then she felt a spark of resistance and embraced it, pushing back on the feeling of helplessness. Her youngest son wasn’t gone yet. He was still on this very floor, out there in the wilds, maybe in need of help. She was no warrior, but she did know someone who could help. And she knew just where to find that lecherous old goat.

  ***

  On what was known by many as the lowest floor of Tenjou, called the Basement by most, an old man sat in a heated tub of water with a beautiful woman under each arm. Well, perhaps not everyone would agree that they were beautiful, but this old man had long since learned that beauty was in the eye of the beholder. And his old eyes saw beauty in a great many things.

  Though he was certainly old - older than most would assume - it would be hard to tell by looking at him. The clearest marks of his age were the grey of his hair and moustache and the gravelly breathiness of his voice. That grey hair was impeccably styled in the fashion of the times, and so was the moustache, a smooth twirl ending in a sharp point despite the water’s presence. His skin was remarkably smooth, not just on his face, but on his torso as well, where it clung still closely to his wiry muscles.

  His white teeth flashed as he laughed, eyes squeezed shut with mirth and contentment, until an eyelid popped open and a single brow rose.

  “Alas, it would appear that this old man better step out for a short moment. Duty calls, as they say.”

  There was no regret in his voice as he left the bath and got dressed. He wore an open shirt with a bright-colored pattern over loose linen hoses and worn sandals - his days of tightly fitted robes and uncomfortable pieces of armor were long behind him. He proceeded slowly, each movement full of measured patience, and left the bathhouse just in time to smile at a middle-aged woman with an expression of angry determination, before she could push open the central doors and cause a scene. Harmony had a serene beauty of its own, after all. It was worth maintaining.

  “Miss Aria, what a rare pleasure for these old eyes. A picture of youthful passion!”

  He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, smiling pleasantly in a way that brought out a few lines around his eyes, open shirt revealing abs that might be the envy of even young cultivators.

  The woman did not seem impressed.

  “Where is my son?”

  The old man’s pleasant expression didn’t change, his eyes flicking up to the crystal ceiling far above for a heartbeat, before landing back on Aria’s face.

  “Still in the same place he’s been for the last half year. In relative safety. Though, one should add that this has unfortunately led to stagnation. Safety often does.”

  A bit more of this stagnation and he may have to be written off as a failure, the old man thought but did not say. Although the best artworks were sculpted with a light touch, success was never guaranteed. A catalyst may give this little gem just the right push to break out of its shell. Soon, that would become clear.

  As expected, a wave of surprised relief passed over Aria’s face, before she narrowed her eyes. Only a bit of the sharpness had left her gaze.

  “I meant the other one.”

  The old man inclined his head slightly.

  “Of course. One would be a fool to disregard a loving mother’s concern for her child.”

  This time, there was no need to look. The boy’s progress had been closely monitored indeed, though this turn of events had far exceeded expectations. To think that the seal on that old place had already withered to such an extent…

  “The other one, that troublesome young adventurer, has ventured a touch further than planned and has found himself… delayed.”

  “Is he trapped? Did he get himself in trouble?” She spoke quickly, leaning forward.

  The old man let out a long laugh, full of genuine mirth.

  “Did he get himself in trouble? Dario? Hoho… A gambling man should have wagered every pearl that that boy would get into trouble. Indeed, it would be more concerning if he hadn’t gotten in trouble.”

  “You know what I mean,” Aria insisted, frowning. “Is he trapped? Does he need help?”

  “The boy is trapped, in a sense, but the keys to free himself are already in his hands. As for help…”

  The old man shook his head, expression turning more serious. “Meddling is often a poor choice, but in that place even more than most. Dario must find the strength within himself to pass this test.”

  Again, there was more the man could have added - that the risk was significant, that the boy was walking a fine razor’s edge and had multiple challenges ahead - but that would have been unwise.

  Aria’s eyes narrowed again, a bit of anger joining that sharpness.

  “I swear by the pillar, Gen, if you start talking about how minerals are formed under pressure again-”

  His expression remained pleasant, but something shifted within the old man’s eyes.

  “That is an old name, which belonged to someone else. This old man goes by JeeJee.”

  “Look, I know the deal you made with Amedeo. You can train them as you wish, but you’re meant to keep them from harm.”

  “Our terms included only harm as would be inflicted by cultivators of a higher elevation.”

  “I don’t care about the exact wording of the damn terms!” Aria snapped. “If there’s anything you can do to help him, anything at all-”

  “Oh, very well, very well. There is abundant beauty in a mother’s love, after all. It should not beget a flaw. This old teacher will agree to a small nudge, to turn your wayward son in the right direction.”

  Aria watched him for a while, considering, but eventually she nodded, taking a step back.

  “Thank you. If anything happens-”

  “Do not worry. The young man has been taught well. He should find his way home.”

  She nodded again and turned to leave.

  “Just one more thing, Miss Aria,” the old man said, prompting her to turn back to look at him. The smile had left his face now, though the look in his eyes was not unkind.

  “You should know that when he does return, he will be changed. Perhaps it would be best for the young man’s mother to prepare for some changes of her own. Only bad things may come from denying a man to follow his Dao Heart.”

  Her brows lifted a moment and tears began to glisten in the corner of her eyes as silence stretched between them.

  Eventually, she seemed to find her resolve, swallowing hard before giving a sharp nod. She stalked off without saying another word.