The bundle of herbs were not fresh, many had withered and some had begun to crumble. A few scattered speckled seeds onto the wood floor of his hut, which he carefully swept up using a wooden broom, with flecks of dead leaves and dirt and added to a patch in his not yet garden. He did not know if the seeds would take, but it seemed a waste to just bin them.
He separated the herbs into what he could identify using the knowledge contained in the diaries and what he could not. He did not think that these herbs were not mentioned somewhere in the carefully written pages, but they were so beyond life, he couldn't match their dying form to the pretty, living form held in pictures.
Most of the herbs, however, seemed to be the same; purple spirit grass. There was also some marsh moth tails and a couple stalks of dark honeyvine. With his own gathered sweet sunclover, he could attempt to make either clear spirit pills or burning energy pills. Clear spirit pills could help a new cultivator focus, boosting their clarity of thought and helping them during the Primary Cultivation phase, however it was not good to rely on them and they could prevent a cultivator breaking through the the secondary stage should they not overcome their own distractions. Burning Energy pills had a boosting effect that could help a Primary Cultivator during combat, but again they came with a cost and the user might feel severely weakened after they wore off.
Leon shook his head and could not help but wonder if the many side effects of the pills were worth using them. His predecessor had not thought so and had made notes of experiments for the latter in order to improve it. Clearly he didn't consider the former worthy of such attention.
Starting with the Clear Spirit Pills, Leon required the roots of the moth tails, the whole of the grass and a small piece of honeyvine. He placed some clover leaves beside his carefully measured herbs and took the cauldron from its hiding place. He read the instructions; he needed to place the cauldron over a fire controlling the temperature of the fire using his spirit energy. From the moment he read this, he automatically paused in thought, before skimming through the first diary.
Ah, it seemed that alchemists were cultivators as well. That proved problematic for he had never cultivated before. He took a lotus position beside his unlit fireplace and took a deep breath before closing his eyes. A minute later he opened them again, totally unable to figure out what he needed to do next. Fortunately, the writer, Leo, was nothing if not meticulous and had left him instructions.
Closing his eyes again, he focused his mind and inwardly sensed his physical body; the curling of his toes, the mild discomfort in his legs, the tautness of his spine, the breeze caressing his skin, the touch of fingertip upon thumb... his mind slipped into a slight trance and he began to utter the chant that was written. The air that filled his lungs, which was pushed back through his throat and nose, the dryness of his lips and moistness within his mouth, the tickle caused by hair brushing loosely against his cheeks... the slight warmth within his stomach that seemed small and bright.
The internal light drew his attention as it swirled lazily inside him, sometimes leaking into patterned lines that seemed to surround it. He mentally poked the light within the lines and found he could move it along them and when he did this, more of the energy was drawn into them. Slowly and painstakingly, he moved the light into the patterns until they were all lit. It seemed as if the light was flowing through them now, like blood through his veins with the small bright warmth as the heart. It swirled slightly swifter now to keep the flow moving around the patterns, his meridens, his skins tingled and the warmth moved through his entire being as it circulated. This was his spirit, he came to realise.
It was already dark when he awoke from his trance, he had spent another day not making pills so now had only two remaining.
I am publishing this two days ahead, I haven’t yet released this chapter on wattpad. Call it a minor celebration for a new account or something.
He awoke to the sounds of wind chimes. Ah that was right, when he had begun to carve talismans the other night in a panic, he had also created a set of wind chimes and had set a few talismans as clappers; protection, tranquility, and harmony. He knew it didn't mean much, but hearing them now set his mind in the right frame for this day. This day, he was going to attempt to control fire with his spirit energy.
It was a slightly blustery morning, but not so much that it would affect the sunken fire pit too much. He poked a stick into the ash remnants of the previous day and dug out a tuber he had set to cook in the embers. It was cold, naturally, but containing soft and tender flavour. After breaking his fast, he began to pile firewood into the pit with a small amount of tinder and rubbed two flints together until the sparks from the friction set the dry grass alight. Seeing the wood begin to steadily burn, he sat beside it and contemplated on what he should do next.
The book had mentioned setting his spirit forth, but that didn't help too much. He could only assume that if the writer could not explain it in words, then it must not be something that can be explained using words. That usually meant, he felt, that there was instinct or feelings involved. In truth, since he had first cultivated the day prior, he could feel the small warm spot above his navel still, even without using his mind's eye. He focused on it now. As he was not cultivating, it swirled about lazily, so he stirred it up a little, though did not send it towards his meridians. The light spiralled in greater and greater circles until the edge became misty and more fluid.
Like a conductor sweeping his fingers to instruct his orchestra, he motioned and the mist seemed to follow. He directed it towards the fire and began to experiment for a while. Aiming the stream towards the heart of the fire inflamed it. The flames burned brighter and hotter and more wild. Swirling it about the fire gave him more control, but the flames slowly began to die away.
His breathing became heavy for a moment as he realised using his spirit energy was actually taxing. The former him must have had much greater spirit and endurance than the current feeble him! Letting go of control, the spirit energy within him snapped back into place and slowed until it regained its lazy pace, while the energy outside of him dispersed into the air. The inner pool was slightly smaller, so he took a deep breath and cultivated for a while until it regained some of its former vigour. He wondered if he should have not guided the outer energy back into his body rather than releasing and losing it?
After eating a little fruit, he added wood to his fire and placed his cauldron above it and herbs beside it. He reread the instructions within the book once more, ignoring the confusing side notes for the moment, then began to add the measured leaves and roots. He tempered his energies in order to control the fire, choosing to maintain a steady heat for the time being and then he watched the herbs begin to melt. Melt? He did not expect to see them begin to form liquid at the base of the cauldron! He felt excited by the notion.
Unfortunately said excitement gave his spirit an injection of chicken blood and for a moment he could not control it. A moment was all it took. The roots sizzled and sparked as they soaked the liquidised leaves into themselves and the whole mess turned to black slag. Using folded rags to remove the heated cauldron, he placed it to one side before inspecting the mess. Wah! He'd wasted the herbs, they were of no use now! And worse, he had forgotten his former thoughts about recapturing flowing spirit energy and already it had dispersed into the air.
With a sigh, Leon began to clean his cauldron, ready to begin again.
Releasing this episode a day early, don’t want readers to feel neglected!
After this I will release one chapter every Tuesday and Friday.
Hope you enjoy reading.
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