Xoi Xam un-der-stood, silent-ly and with-in her own heart, that she was, at times, on the verge of mad-ness. Not be-cause of the med-i-cine--she was still now fol-low-ing her adopt-ed sis-ter Ki'el and Sect Broth-er Du to the Gale Pavil-lion, and the med-i-cine was safe-ly with-in her Space Ring. The Thou-sand Mile Wa-ter-fall Flower had been processed into a pow-der, which could be ab-sorbed a num-ber of ways--and un-til Broth-er Du had talked about this Pavil-lion, she had as-sumed that she would burn it and in-haled the smoke.

  Per-haps... a place called the Gale Pavil-lion would be a bad place for that.

  But for now, Xam was re-flect-ing on her life, with the most dis-tant and fa-mil-iar mem-o-ries need-ing lit-tle re-flec-tion. She'd been a clever child, but re-bel-lious. Loved her fam-i-ly, but was proud. Didn't take to their teach-ings, and re-fused to be held down sim-ply be-cause she failed their tests, re-ject-ed their Way. Joined the mil-i-tary... and fought, some, but too much of the time there had been wast-ed.

  She had tak-en pride in her abil-i-ty to re-main a beau-ti-ful flower even in the dark-ness of the Bil-gish isles, and as such, she had been treat-ed like a flower. They had wished for her to bloom into a more beau-ti-ful flower in the fu-ture, and as such had been will-ing to lay some ground-work, give her med-i-cines and train-ing. But the dif-fer-ence be-tween a flower and a weed was only in the pass-ing fan-cies of the gar-den's own-er. Un-til she was a hard-ened war-rior, she was not tru-ly of use to the mil-i-tary, only a can-di-date. And she had irked some-one pow-er-ful enough that pluck-ing one or two weeds was a tru-ly mean-ing-less thing.

  If she had not been a flower, would they have even giv-en her what they did? Would she have been re-turned to her fam-i-ly in shame? Or al-lowed her to die in a bat-tle-field above her abil-i-ty? Ground her into dust with train-ing that would pro-duce a war-rior, but re-move all traces of per-son-al-i-ty, his-to-ry? She didn't know.

  From pride in her-self, to shame at not meet-ing her fam-i-ly's ex-pec-ta-tions, to pride in join-ing the mil-i-tary, to shame in be-ing eject-ed, dis-card-ed. Then she had been ap-proached by a pa-tron who wished for her to mar-ry--but not be-cause she was a pret-ty flower, al-though... her new hus-band Mian tru-ly did seem to ap-pre-ci-ate the beau-ty she found in her-self, and the ef-fort she went through to cul-ti-vate it, ex-press it, wear it like a sec-ond skin. But was this feel-ing that she held, about her mar-riage and him, pride, or shame? Or some mix-ture?

  Now she was swept off to a Sect--a real one, one of the world's Twen-ty Great Peaks, if low-er on that list. But... al-though the Sect ac-knowl-edged her, or seemed to, it was her com-pan-ion that held their in-ter-ests most firm-ly. Every-thing that she had ever found in her-self to be proud of paled in com-par-i-son when she was pre-sent-ed next to this girl, who seemed more for-tu-nate than ge-nius, al-though... she did show great abil-i-ty of her own, as well as hav-ing, Xam would grudg-ing-ly ad-mit, a far pur-er heart than she her-self had.

  Was Xam's whole life some-thing to be proud of, ashamed of? Was she reach-ing high be-cause she was pow-er-ful, beau-ti-ful, wor-thy? Was she be-ing car-ried along by the whims of yet an-oth-er per-son who would dis-card her in time? Was she even tru-ly valu-able to Ki'el and her mas-ter, or sim-ply a con-ve-nient No-ble child with which to en-act their plans?

  Xam had no trou-ble pulling her at-ten-tion back to the path be-fore them as they made the fi-nal ap-proach to the Less-er Gale Pavil-lion. In truth, she had seen it sev-er-al times be-fore, on mis-sions for the Sect, but nev-er ap-proached. In part, that was be-cause there was no path to the is-land--those pow-er-ful enough to be able to use it were ex-pect-ed to be able to car-ry them-selves, or pay some-one else to pre-pare a tem-po-rary path--but she also felt some com-bi-na-tion of shame and piety that stopped her from ap-proach-ing a place she was un-wor-thy of reach-ing.

  For now, when they reached the edge of the is-land, Broth-er Du sim-ply waved his hand, and con-jured forth a mas-sive hand of light, palm up-wards, and they all stepped on it long enough to be car-ried from one is-land to the next. She spent no ef-forts fo-cus-ing on Broth-er Du's meth-ods--she doubt-ed her own path would be in any sense a re-flec-tion of his--but fo-cused on the is-land and build-ing that was the Less-er Gale Pavil-lion, as it came into full view.

  The Pavil-lion it-self could be un-der-stood as a build-ing, al-though it had no struc-ture, ex-cept a floor of stone blocks, and a few care-ful-ly shaped and en-graved pieces of flat stone that were po-si-tioned at key places along what should be the walls and ceil-ing of a large, oc-tag-o-nal build-ing, one that she was sure had one di-rec-tion ori-ent-ed due north. These stone pieces float-ed with mas-sive gaps be-tween them, both held by and sus-tain-ing the bar-ri-er that de-fined the edges of the pavil-lion, while the gaps chan-neled wind and qi from the out-er world in an in-tense and steady stream.

  It felt... good here. Bet-ter than good. From the mo-ment she stepped in-side the bor-ders of the Pavil-lion, she felt fresh qi all around her, live-ly and dis-tant, very dif-fer-ent from that of the rest of the Sect, just as Broth-er Du had said. But... for the most part, that fresh qi re-mained just as dis-tant as qi al-ways did, sep-a-rate from her-self. She un-der-stood just from that how valu-able a prop-er cul-ti-va-tion tech-nique was, though she was loathe to en-gage hers un-til giv-en per-mis-sion.

  A few flick-ers of qi made her glance ahead to where Ki'el and Du stepped for-ward to-wards what must be a Sect El-der or oth-er wor-thy in charge of the pavil-lion, a thin man with glass-es and robes that seemed too large for him, who gave off an au-thor-i-ta-tive air that was dif-fi-cult to mis-take. What-ev-er con-ver-sa-tion was made, was made with in-tent alone, a tal-ent that Xam en-vied, un-til Broth-er Du bowed, and said aloud, "Thank you, El-der Sang."

  Ki'el bowed as well, and Xam fol-lowed suit, but it was only a pass-ing thing, and then Broth-er Du turned to her--to them.

  "The Gale Pavil-lion is in-tend-ed to both fun-nel fresh qi to each per-son here, but also, to iso-late the ef-fects of each per-son's cul-ti-va-tion from each oth-er. The marks on the ground show the dis-tance apart you must main-tain, and it is best to re-main in the cen-ter of your own, un-less you have a rea-son oth-er-wise. Ki'el, in your case, you will want to re-main with-in Broth-er Mian's space, so that you may mon-i-tor his spir-it, but do not dis-turb the flow of qi un-less you need to."

  Ki'el nod-ded at that, but Xam's glance went to her hus-band. Broth-er Du had, while they had wait-ed for Ki'el to fin-ish speak-ing with El-der Gol, told them all that he ex-pect-ed Ki'el to mon-i-tor Mian for signs that he was too much un-der the in-flu-ence of the Hun-dred Hearts Ton-ic, and pull him out if he must. Xam... felt that should have been her job, if she only had the tal-ent nec-es-sary. A part of her felt jeal-ous, and an-gry, that she couldn't be at her hus-band's side in the case of an emer-gency, be-ing the one that he thanked, the first face he saw. Al-though... she was un-sure yet whether she tru-ly loved her hus-band, if such feel-ings were to grow, like a flower, they need-ed to be nur-tured, the world built around cre-at-ing those mo-ments that gave them strength.

  It felt like a cal-lous dis-re-gard of their re-la-tion-ship... but also, Xam knew, it was the Way. She could do noth-ing, and Ki'el could. But also... Ki'el was in no way com-pet-ing for Mian's af-fec-tion, and she knew it. Her anx-ious-ness was noth-ing more and noth-ing less than see-ing an op-por-tu-ni-ty to grow clos-er that she could not take. But even say-ing that it was noth-ing more... that was enough.

  "For those of you who have nev-er tak-en In-sight-ful Med-i-cine be-fore, a bit of ad-vice," Broth-er Du con-tin-ued, and Xam found her at-ten-tion dragged back to the man, by his will, al-though she agreed with the ac-tion en-tire-ly. She had too much to wor-ry about to fo-cus on such small things now. "What you will ex-pe-ri-ence when you take In-sight-ful Med-i-cine is not real, and it is most-ly not true. But it re-veals truth, if you can dis-cov-er those pat-terns deep with-in the throws of hal-lu-ci-na-tion. Your task is not to use your spir-it or your qi to try to con-trol the world that you per-ceive--it is to use your spir-it and your qi to mas-ter your-self, as you search through the ex-pe-ri-ence to find pat-terns that give you in-sight into the pat-terns you have al-ready seen in the real world, but which are cur-rent-ly a mys-tery to you."

  That... Xam fo-cused on the words, in-tent on un-der-stand-ing, al-though she sus-pect-ed that she would be ful-ly im-mersed in her ex-pe-ri-ence and would find it dif-fi-cult to re-mem-ber the words. Sis-ter Jian had praised the qual-i-ty of her spec-i-men of flower, and boast-ed that she would pro-duce a high qual-i-ty med-i-cine from it, though in truth, Xam had no un-der-stand-ing of med-i-cines in gen-er-al or what the dif-fer-ence in qual-i-ty would mean. But she was cer-tain that Broth-er Du un-der-stood what was hap-pen-ing far bet-ter than most peo-ple she'd met, and any ad-vice from him was pre-cious.

  "For you, Sis-ter Xam," Du turned to her, and Xam fought back the blush on her cheeks, ig-nor-ing what she thought of the man for now, in spite of cer-tain in-stincts. "Your med-i-cine is not at its great-est ef-fi-ca-cy when in-gest-ed. There are censers in-tend-ed to al-low burn-ing of pow-ders with-in your space--"

  "I would very much pre-fer that," she read-i-ly agreed, be-fore he even fin-ished. "I was... a bit wor-ried that would be im-pos-si-ble."

  Broth-er Du smiled, and Xam cursed her-self for be-ing charmed by it. "We would be a poor sect if we couldn't at least pro-vide such a means. I have no-ti-fied the el-der, and whichev-er place you take, you will find a censer there. Do not put the med-i-cine in it un-til you are ready."

  She bowed to him, though again, she won-dered--was she crazy? To be so dis-tract-ed now by thoughts and feel-ings that were mean-ing-less? Where was her pride? Should she even have pride?

  Du spoke briefly with Sis-ter Chi-an, who... who Xam, if she were hon-est, still did not like or trust, al-though the girl seemed agree-able. Know-ing that she was of a Spir-it Beast blood-line made Xam think of the beasts--Star-beasts, but also, less-er spir-it beasts--that she had fought be-fore, and all of them had been mon-strous things. The mil-i-tary made great strides in prepar-ing its army only by hunt-ing down those things, giv-en pow-er but un-wor-thy of it, and plun-der-ing that which should al-ways have be-longed to hu-man-i-ty.

  Chi-an... no, she couldn not take the time to think about this now.

  When at last they broke apart, she took a place where she was close to her Mian, but chose not to look in his di-rec-tion, for fear that her eyes would open just to dis-tract her. As she set-tled down onto a com-fort-able pad on the ground, a small aer-at-ed bowl ap-peared in front of her, and she un-der-stood its meth-ods in-tu-itive-ly. She had only to load the med-i-cine and ig-nite it with her own qi, but...

  ...But, there was prepa-ra-tion be-fore she took the med-i-cine. She had nev-er been un-der the throws of a pow-er-ful one, but she had tak-en mi-nor med-i-cines be-fore. Be-fore she be-gan, she walked the area, and faced the place the qi seemed to come from, sens-ing its depths, try-ing to un-der-stand where the qi she would ab-sorb came from. And she also with-drew and stud-ied the med-i-cine it-self, try-ing to be aware of how the med-i-cine felt, try-ing to un-der-stand what she could ex-pect from it. And fi-nal-ly, she set-tled, and stead-ied her-self, and cleared her mind, and only then did she pre-pare and ig-nite the med-i-cine. And for a few min-utes af-ter, she sim-ply... steeled her-self, hold-ing on to her mind and forc-ing it back into a state of seren-i-ty.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  But seren-i-ty was dif-fi-cult to find, once her jour-ney be-gan.

  The first drops of the Thou-sand Mile Wa-ter-fall felt to her like me-te-ors falling from the sky above her. If they had been phys-i-cal, Xam knew she would have been thrown into the air, and per-haps im-me-di-ate-ly killed, but they were only drops of essence. But... the drops that splashed near-by in-creased the qi avail-able for her to cy-cle, and she did, greed-i-ly drink-ing in the essence along with the qi.

  That greed cost her, or per-haps, only hur-ried her along her path.

  The more of the essence she cul-ti-vat-ed, the more that drops from the Wa-ter-fall fell, but more than that, as she gath-ered that qi, some part of her be-came the falling wa-ter, and was not sim-ply med-i-tat-ing in the place where the drops were falling. Still con-scious of what Broth-er Du had said, she did her best not to pan-ic as she be-gan to ex-pe-ri-ence--over and over again--the feel-ing of be-ing a wa-ter droplet cast away from a great height and falling, falling, falling... to-wards what Xam knew, just as the wa-ter knew, was an in-evitable end-ing.

  When the first of her men-tal/spir-i-tu-al pieces land-ed in a dev-as-tat-ing crash af-ter years, or mo-ments, of falling, she very near-ly lost her trance, ex-pect-ing the crush-ing im-pact to be the end of that part of her--but it was not. The wa-ter that fell was not de-stroyed by land-ing, nor could it be. Al-though it sensed an-oth-er part of her-self falling--and that part of her felt the ground ap-proach-ing, sensed its sis-ter part splat-tered across the ground--she was pow-er-less to pre-vent the im-pact, pow-er-less to con-trol the in-evitable, in-ex-orable col-li-sion.

  That im-pact also did not end her. And al-though the two pieces of her that had met at the bot-tom were dif-fer-ent pieces of her, they merged ef-fort-less-ly, seam-less-ly. But she was more than one or two drops of wa-ter, now--there were per-haps six pieces, per-haps eight or ten, and the num-ber was only grow-ing. Xam was... only dim-ly aware that the flower was not Thou-sand mile few-wa-ter-drops flower. That it was not the Thou-sand mile light-sprin-kle-of-wa-ter flower. Was only dim-ly aware of what the flower was.

  But the process could only be halt-ed if she gave up, and she did not, would not.

  As the drops went from a few to a dozen, Xam be-gan to rec-og-nize that from with-in the falling droplets of wa-ter, she could sense her-self, sit-ting there sep-a-rate from where that part of her was, sep-a-rate from who that part of her was. And she watched the mas-sive drops of wa-ter, most of them also her-self, head-ed to-wards that ar-ro-gant young woman rest-ing on a padded cloth in front of a small burn-er. Al-though the drug showed her no more of the world, she could not have fo-cused on more than her-self... and her-selves.

  Those wa-ter drops were her-self, and in many way, they were so much stronger than Xoi Xam.

  It was not only their re-silience, not only their sheer mass. Al-though there was no in-tent be-hind the wa-ter smash-ing like ham-mers into the ground be-low, scat-ter-ing into small-er drops, and re-form-ing, there was some-thing. Wis-dom, per-haps. In-sight. But it was also in-com-plete, or Xam did not un-der-stand it, not yet.

  But a dozen droplets of wa-ter were be-com-ing two dozen, and Xam be-gan to un-der-stand that her-selves were greater than her-self. So great that if they wished, they could crush her. And she wres-tled with her qi, and her spir-it, and her-self, and won-dered, and ag-o-nized.

  Am I even wor-thy? The ques-tion, when re-en-tered her mind, de-light-ed her-selves. It felt like a weak-ness, like--

  But no, Xam hitched her breath and did her best to re-cen-ter her-self, know-ing where she was, what she was do-ing. She could see her-self, in that vi-sion, an ar-ro-gant woman, and she knew that the ar-ro-gant woman in her vi-sion was the real her, the real self. Only... no, she ar-gued. The her in the vi-sion was it-self only a re-flec-tion; she was her true self. But she was not wa-ter.

  Two dozen wa-ter drops be-came six dozen in only a few breaths, and the wa-ter drops that were her were only a small frac-tion of them, now. At last, the wa-ter that de-scend-ed around her de-served to be called a wa-ter-fall, if only a small one. A small trick-le of wa-ter break-ing up into droplets as it fell. But... why break up? What was her in-tent--the wa-ter-her's in-tent? Or was there no in-tent, again, only a truth?

  Or was it even truth? Du had said... some-thing...?

  The wa-ter con-tin-ued to pound, a trick-le in-creas-ing into some-thing more, a tiny brook in the for-est, but Xam mea-sured her breath, try-ing to re-mem-ber who she was, even as she--but more, the essence of the flower with-in her--tried to ab-sorb more and more of that essence, bring-ing more qi into her than she felt ready to ab-sorb. Still none of the drops had ac-tu-al-ly struck her, each land-ing around her, as though the flower--or her own soul--were pro-tect-ing her from the ef-fects. But the qi, the flower's qi, was thick-er, wider, more.

  Xam re-al-ized--a small bro-ken part of her--that this was what med-i-c-i-nal ef-fec-tive-ness meant. That there was more of this. More flower with-in her to draw in the qi with-out her con-sent. But she didn't try to scat-ter the pow-der from the censer, didn't try to flee from the il-lu-sion of the falling wa-ter. In-stead, slow-ly, as she grew used to the mas-sive weight of the falling wa-ter--al-though that weight and the wa-ter-fall con-tin-ued to grow--she be-gan to push back, her spir-i-tu-al per-cep-tion push-ing back against it and be-gin-ning to ex-plore the world of the il-lu-sion, be-gin-ning to grap-ple with it.

  Sis-ter Be-nai, a spir-it beast that Xam thought must have been far old-er, far wis-er, far more ma-ture than Sis-ter Chi-an--had said that this flower would lead her on a path to Wa-ter Qi... and also, move-ment. But while she was ab-sorb-ing a great deal about wa-ter that sim-ply fell and smashed head-long into the ground, she could not find any in-sight about move-ment in the il-lu-sion.

  Was she miss-ing some-thing? Was there... what had Broth-er Du said... a pat-tern?

  The droplets fell, and fell, and fell, and Xam be-gan to med-i-tate on the flow, her spir-it slow-ly be-gin-ning to reach up the wa-ter-fall, be-gan to rec-og-nize droplets as be-ing 'her-self' soon-er, but she could not reach the source of the flow. By the time the wa-ter was near the ground, it had ceased to have agency, ceased to have con-trol over its des-ti-na-tion. Would she find mean-ing at the top? An in-tent, a de-ci-sion to be-come an un-stop-pable force?

  Was a wa-ter-fall re-al-ly in con-trol of its own move-ment? Could it be? She knew the an-swer be-fore she reached the top, but spent no time try-ing to un-der-stand what she al-ready knew, in-stead med-i-tat-ing on what she would find.

  When at last, her bat-tered spir-it found some-thing above that was more than mere-ly wa-ter, she all but em-braced that sen-sa-tion, but as she firmed her will and pulled her-self up onto the ledge that had been so far above her, so far that it might as well have been the moon, she found what she should per-haps have ex-pect-ed, but which she didn't un-der-stand.

  She found her-self. An ar-ro-gant woman, sit-ting be-neath an-oth-er wa-ter-fall, the runoff from that wa-ter-fall now a rag-ing riv-er that threat-ened to sweep her off the edge. If she let her-self fall, now, she knew what would hap-pen. She would...

  She would end up right back here, at her-self.

  She would dash against the rock, pick her-self back up, and let her-self be swept over the next edge, to fall and meet her-self again. Whether she fell or whether she rose... she would only find her-self.

  When she re-al-ized that, for the first time, the wa-ter-fall ceased to avoid hit-ting her. The tor-ren-tial flow crashed over her head and shoul-ders, tore at her cloth-ing, ripped away the heat, tried to re-duce her to noth-ing. But she al-ready was the wa-ter-fall, and she could bear her own weight. She stud-ied that scene, look-ing at her-self from the edge of the cliff, and then looked up wa-ter-fall, see-ing an-oth-er her far above, who looked up at an-oth-er wa-ter-fall, and an-oth-er.

  And she turned and looked down, see-ing her-self be-neath the falls, and her-self at the cliff, look-ing down at her-self be-low, and again at her-self be-low.

  And as she be-gan to ac-tu-al-ly, prop-er-ly med-i-tate on those thoughts, she sensed some-thing else, some-thing that--again--she should have ex-pect-ed, but didn't. A spir-it, in the shape of a flower. Not wise or all-know-ing, but... a plant, in tune with one sim-ple thought about the uni-verse. But when she some-how, word-less-ly asked the flower how to trav-el some-where, how to move like the wa-ter-fall, the flower had the only an-swer that she could have ex-pect-ed.

  You can't go some-where that you haven't al-ready been, and go-ing some-where you've al-ready been is as easy as let-ting go. You don't move to a place that you al-ready are, you sim-ply are.

  In an-oth-er mind, in an-oth-er world, the thoughts would have meant You can-not trav-el. It is the only an-swer any plant could have to such a ridicu-lous thought. But Xam was split into a thou-sand, per-haps a mil-lion pieces, and re-dis-cov-er-ing her-self as the many pieces of her-self co-a-lesced into a whole. She ceased to be a woman un-der a wa-ter-fall, ceased to be some part of the wa-ter swept along by the flow... and be-came the en-tire il-lu-sion of wa-ter flow-ing over the edge of a cliff, un-der which a woman med-i-tat-ed.

  You can't go some-where that you haven't al-ready been meant some-thing very dif-fer-ent when her mind was split into so many pieces. She could be any-where that she al-ready was. And that re-al-iza-tion was, in her mind, some-thing fun-da-men-tal. Al-though she couldn't quite grasp how to turn that into a tech-nique... she was pos-i-tive that be-tween that idea, and the prop-er-ties of wa-ter, there was a core, some-thing foun-da-tion-al, some-thing true.

  And she med-i-tat-ed, and her spir-it gath-ered qi, so much that it filled her whole body, and some parts of her squealed in protest, but she en-dured, let-ting the qi flow out when it was too much, and flow in when it was too lit-tle.

  Xoi Xam had thought that she was at the peak of Gold Qi be-fore. But when she had en-dured the pound-ing of the wa-ter-fall for a thou-sand years, en-dured the crush-ing weight of en-tire worlds on her spir-it, when she fi-nal-ly be-gan to feel the ef-fects fade, the qi no longer dive so read-i-ly into her spir-it, when the vi-sion fi-nal-ly be-gan fad-ing, Xam knew that she was past the peak of Gold Qi, that she was ready to sim-ply ask to be al-lowed to move on, and she would.

  There was no thought of shame in her mind, the idea ban-ished at least for now. Be-cause she was far ahead of where she was sup-posed to be, had en-dured more than she was sup-posed to be able to. She had been test-ed and found ac-cept-able, but not for the next step. She should have been swept ahead long ago. Per-haps she could not leap and touch the moon, but she felt that she could walk up a moun-tain.

  Even a thou-sand-mile one.

  When at last Xam felt en-tire-ly at peace, she opened her eyes, to find that the Pavil-lion be-fore her was no dif-fer-ent. But when she looked around, not all was the same, ei-ther. Da Chi-an was sit-ting in a sec-tion con-cealed be-hind black walls, al-though Xam felt that her own will was a key that might have al-lowed her to see in-side. In-stead of look-ing there, though, she turned to look at Mian.

  He... did not look well.

  His face was a mask of pain, and even from a dis-tance, Xam could see ir-reg-u-lar qi flows through his body. Ki'el was next to him, her hands on his back, her eyes closed. And Xam... could be-lieve that what-ev-er was hap-pen-ing, Ki'el was like-ly able to help. Even as she watched, ex-pect-ing Mian's ir-reg-u-lar spir-it to ex-plode, ex-pect-ing him to lift his head up to the skies in a pained scream... at worst, noth-ing hap-pened. And at best... she could be-lieve that he was sta-bi-liz-ing, if very slow-ly.

  Xam didn't ex-act-ly feel her break-throughs swept away, but her good mood and sta-bil-i-ty dimished rapid-ly. And al-though she felt she should prob-a-bly con-tin-ue to med-i-tate, she got up and left her space, but stopped short of the bound-ary of Mian's. And she knelt there, watch-ing as close-ly as she could, watch-ing, study-ing. She... be-came cer-tain, af-ter a few mo-ments--Ki'el was pu-ri-fy-ing some of Mian's spir-it, and it was hold-ing back ef-fects that were too strong. And... Mian was also be-com-ing stronger.

  She stud-ied his qi as well as she could from this dis-tance, but she was cer-tain of it. The man had only just en-tered Gold Qi, and was so far be-hind that he should have been a thou-sand miles away from reach-ing Peak Gold, much less chal-leng-ing the Tribu-la-tion. She was... hes-i-tant, even now, about ac-cept-ing that he need-ed to at-tempt it. He had told her that he was fine with her be-ing stronger than him, that he idol-ized and re-spect-ed her strength as much as her beau-ty. And... she was will-ing to go through some dif-fi-cul-ty to car-ry him along with her, as long as he con-tin-ued to of-fer not only gen-uine praise, but con-cern and care as well.

  Whether that was love was not quite the same ques-tion, but it seemed a far less in-ter-est-ing ques-tion to her. Mar-ry-ing a man who would sup-port her and al-low her to flour-ish seemed far bet-ter than mar-ry-ing a man that she loved, if the one that she loved would not sup-port her or al-low her to flour-ish. And she had met many men, even ones that gave her heart thrills, who seemed con-tent to leave her be-hind, to be-come noth-ing while they ad-vanced. If de-ci-sions of the heart had to come down to whether she want-ed some-thing or need-ed it, she must choose that which she needs.

  Star-ing now at Mian as he strug-gled to catch up, strug-gled to sur-vive, she be-gan to feel a sense of de-ter-mi-na-tion. She closed her eyes, med-i-tat-ing for sev-er-al min-utes, try-ing to put her spir-it in or-der, but then, fi-nal-ly...

  She stood up, and moved into Mian's med-i-ta-tion space.

  Soulforged Dungeoneer, but they could also have been joking). I may have done spiritual journeys before. It's... not been anything that vivid, and I'm not going to encourage anyone to go do those things either, especially without knowledge and preparation. But suffice it to say that the world is interesting as well as dangerous. It's just... that the interesting parts don't necessarily make the dangerous parts safer.