Chapitre 9: Lost
Chún awoke to the sound of a large temple gong sounding - or at least, what he thought a large temple gong might sound like; the village had a small handheld copper gong that was used for important festivals and processions like funerals - and in his tales the village storyteller had occasionally mentioned that temple gongs were many times louder and more melodic - enough to feel in your bones, so the gods could hear it and listen to the prayers of the supplicants of the temples.
Wide awake, he stared up at the ceiling of his cave and watch the flare and dance of Essence motes in the air and the veins of Essence in the rock, slowly realising that the Golden Crow's first feathers must have hit the Mountain, like he had experienced when he had been waiting for his Teacher at dawn, however many days ago it had been.
With an ease born of long practice, he moved off the grass and cotton padding he had arranged as his bed, and started straightening it out, moving on automatic as he planned out his day in his head.
The food he had collected and cooked yesterday should last him for a few days, he decided. He had only managed two pumpkins worth of stew before being feeling full. It was the richness and level of Essence in the food, he supposed. Compared to his earlier diet it was like the difference between Heaven and Earth - he had felt the strangest mix of being almost super charged with Essence, while being completely exhausted from doing so much Essence Manipulation.
During his meal last night he had realised that with the Mountain helping, it would be easy to set up a mud kiln for firing pottery, especially if he used his Essence to keep the fire hot and even to help him to form the pottery from clay.
He had played a little with the fire last night, experimenting with concentrating the Fire Essence or distributing it evenly; the flames reacted appropriately even without extra fuel being added.
At the Mountain's urging he had even mixed almost all of the Fire Essence remaining in the fire-pit coals into the base of the stone pot - unlike Stone, Fire was eager to mix with other things.
After a while the stone of the pot seemed to develop Fire Essence of its own - well actually, the Mountain had started moving the Fire Essence he had pushed into the stone in a very deliberate pattern - he supposed his Teacher would have called it a Dao Manifestation. Now the bottom third of the pot glowed with swirls of Fire Essence that kept swirling in ever-renewing slow curls of energy. Even without using his Essence Sense, the pot base radiated with heat.
So now he had a pot that cooked food by itself. Which was… he didn't know what it was, other than yet another thing to add to the list of strangeness that had been happening to him since he had met Yijing, but with the stone pot sealed and constantly simmering, the stew would keep and continue to improve, especially if he kept adding new ingredients over time.
After playing with Fire last night he had been extremely tired, despite how much Essence he had running through him from the food. Until he woke, he had no memory, after falling on his sleeping pad last night.
Which was oddly dirty, come to think of it… Suddenly Chún realised he smelled as if he hadn't bathed in months despite last night's bath, he was really hungry… and he desperately needed to go to his toilet spot.
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After Chún's immediate needs of food, shelter and sanitation were managed - including another long bath in the cave pool, while scrubbing out his bedroll and then putting his pad on a convenient sun-soaked boulder in the clearing to dry - he sat out by the fire pit again, enjoying the morning air, the warmth of the Golden Crow, sounds of wildlife and the scents of the plants, flowers and trees all around him.
While eating a few fruits that had fallen from the Heaven and Earth Vine - and adding eating glowing fruit to his list of weird - he decided he needed to focus on learning how to be a True Cultivator.
He had to exchange that fur; although unlike a regular beast's it would stay as if freshly skinned until the Essence stone was removed, he didn't want it hanging about un-processed. Part of him worried if he left it too long - the Essence Stone would allow the fur to rise from the dead to take revenge. The fact that the Mountain didn't react with any disdain for the idea when it crossed his mind especially concerned him, as he had thought that could have been one of the Storyteller's more fanciful exaggerations.
But to do that, and to get clothing - as well as anything else he couldn't make himself from the village - he had to get stronger, so he could use Essence to disguise himself. Part of him wished he could learn to become an Immortal Warrior like in the stories, smash the village flat and take what he needed, but that would attract the wrong sort of attention to the Mountain - and would also take a lot longer than he could afford to take.
Teacher had said he needed to practice Essence Ignition to get stronger; and to learn how to manifest Dao characters and runes for hiding.
He did not want to hide so well that people could not see him - he had to be able to interact with people to sell and purchase goods - but they needed to not recognise him and to feel he was too strong to cause trouble for; someone to take seriously, in other words, but who was not worth cheating or robbing.
Finishing the last of the fruit, he walked over to the stream on the west (or left) side of the clearing and rinsed off his hands in the stream. A few playful small fish nibbled his fingers and not being one to miss an opportunity, he flicked a few out onto the bank then walked back to add them to the pot.
"Mountain, I need to practice igniting Essence points - are there any good places?"
Following a wave of eagerness from his link to the Mountain, Chún ran back to the cave to fetch his staff and old empty sack; after a moment's deliberation, he also slung the flask of watered wine over his shoulder. This time when he went out into the forest, he would be - well, not prepared - but at least slightly better able to carry any useful food back.
As he stepped back out into the sunlight, he grinned. This felt much more normal - he had set out like this on whatever chore he had managed to beg from the village on many a morning. Excited to be finally putting together his first deliberate steps to becoming stronger he started pushing his way through the vine and leaf covered entrance.
Just as he moved through the last of the vines, he was slapped vigorously in the face by a large Heaven and Earth leaf, causing him to close his eyes in reflex, automatically slipping into Essence sight.
The sudden close up view of the strange, abstruse runes, reminded him that he had forgotten there was something else he needed to do first.
Sending a quiet apology to the Mountain - with no noticeable response - he carefully stepped outside the cave and leaned his staff against the cliff face and laid out his sack as a protection against the dew-wet grass, sitting down in front of the vines that climbed up the rock like a giant puzzle.
Taking one of the leaves hanging in front of him in his hand he closed his eyes and cast out perception through his Essence sense.
A slow, steady drum beat…
... like a giant heart;
...the sound of the blacksmith working his anvil slowly washed over all other sounds.
A strong sense of greeting seemed to be carried with the beats and Chún realised this was his locus; the Mountain. He sent greetings back, focusing on the leaf he held…
...it was bells again, he thought... but they pealed out like a funeral procession…
...slowly, like the warning bell in the guard tower that the village manned to watch for fire, storms and bandit attack.
This was ...the Heaven and Earth Vine. It fit, he thought, the giant fruits looked like large gold bells.
The drums, anvils and bells seemed to create a chant together.
He vaguely recalled hearing something similar from a travelling monk that had been chanting as he walked through the village years ago - he remembered it mostly because the monk had seemed sad, even though the monk had smiled when their eyes met - but it was like comparing the difference between a tambourine and the big kettle drum the villagers played at gatherings - they both were the same sort of instrument, but one was so much - more - than the other...
...The music urged him to flow with it; it pulsed through his body…
...like the time he had lifted some of that white liquor from old man Xian's stash, as if he were a cloud or water or the wind…
...not there anymore. But he needed to learn how to use manifestation to disguise himself…
He pushed his focus onto the leaf, narrowing his perception as best he could onto the leaf he held, and the chanting subsided into the background. The symbols interwoven into the Essence of the leaf swelled in his sense and he could feel…
….it was like the mists that carried Essence, or like the spaces between raindrops. It was there, but it was not important. And that was OK.
...supposed to be there, but not something to be interested in… like the dust on the ground, leaves on the trees… grass on the ground….
...could be important, if it should be. The pattern twisted, turned and shifted agreeably. Sometimes... not being important would draw more attention...
...than not being noticed…
...like those lizards that you could not see…
...until they moved - and then sometimes not even then…
...but if you got too close, they became every colour at once as a warning to stay away…
...If the Essence shifted this way and was pulled that way it could be a cloak… just spin it off of your Dao like so… and…
...follow the pattern... around and out and down and up…
...slowly finding the twists and turns in his own Dao that matched.... did not have to change, just needed to find the shapes, sounds, thoughts that fit….
...pattern of quiet and silence and rightness…
...and let them slide together like a puzzle box....
A quiet sensation of concealment and protection stole over…
perception rippled as if a mist had fallen over it and a sense of success like everything was right…
...perfect...
A thundering drum blasted through the misty feeling and his focus snapped.
Chún flailed his arms in shock - no sense of up, down or otherwise until he crashed backwards onto the grass, knocking the wind out of him. His Essence sense popped like a bubble and all he could see were purple eye stars from the hard impact.
Something hard hit him in the chest, forcing the air into his lungs as his chest contracted and expanded in reflex.
Coughing, Chún opened his eyes to find the sky was darkening into twilight, the last of the Golden Crow disappearing into the horizon behind him.
He immediately tried to sit up and gasped as a cramp stabbed through his side. "Ow, what...I do not…"
His staff rolled off his chest as he shifted his body trying to understand and get upright. That is what had hit him - but how was it night time? It had just barely been early morning a moment ago!
"Aww...gods and demons...it hurts", wheezing, he crawled up into a kneeling position, one hand holding onto the nearest vine for support, wincing as a wave of pain rolled through him. Grabbing the fallen staff, he used it to lever himself to his feet and looked up with sinking dismay at the darkening sky.
"Lost a whole day… oh no…"
A wave of agreement flooded down the link from the Mountain, a distinct sense of concern colouring the feeling. Memories of his Teacher speaking, oddly mixed together, were pulled to the forefront:
"...in the beginning - you will lose yourself… Remember what I told you about choosing small Essence points to practice with - I am not there to help you if you are overloaded again…."
"Ah...oh." He stood there stupidly, suddenly realising how stupid he had been to focus so hard on such a large and complex Dao as 'not being noticed', with no one to watch him. He had nearly...unmade himself?
There was a relieved pulse from the Mountain and an echoing chime from the vine above; a large bell-like fruit thumped to the grass in front of him, breaking open and carrying a mouthwatering scent; without conscious thought, Chún found himself burying his face in the Heaven and Earth fruit, gobbling the flesh and drinking the juice with frantic haste.
Soothing pulses of Essence flowed through him, much more vigorous than what he remembered from eating similar fruits earlier; his body reacted like a desert receiving rain after a drought, his bones cracking and popping like frying beans as muscles stretched and grew in density.
Sometime later he regained his senses, the remains of several fruit around him. "Thank you, Vine", he said sincerely, looking up at it in the deepening dark "I…"
He stopped short in astonishment, gazing at the leaves and fruit in front of him. Even in Essence Sense, the vine was barely visible, shifting in and out of sight like a heat mirage. The cliff face and cave entrance was impossible to see at all. Yet at the same time the fruits and vines glowed so brightly they were like glowing lamps, instead of the misty swirls of motes he recalled.
The whole side of the cliff was covered in a heavy Essence mist which curled out in lesser amounts to blanket the entire clearing. If you did not know the clearing was there, you would never find it.
"Oh… I see. I was channelling Essence into you and the concept of 'un-noticeability' all day, then. I suppose I nearly burned out? Never mind, stupid question. Well, I hope this helps you become a Five Elements Tree soon - at least it will not have been a total waste".
The Vine leaves' swayed and rustled in a non-existent breeze, the fruits bobbing upward and downward.
"Ok then. Well I stink again, and I am exhausted from over extending myself like an idiot. I am going to wash and… go to bed…" he groaned, realising his sleeping pad was outside to dry still. "I still need to wash first - this horrible smelling back stuff is everywhere."
Staggering wearily back through the vines, he could see the Dao patterns in the leaves were much more complex than they had been previously, but other than noticing it in passing he was too tired to care.
His clothing was a total loss, so he threw it back next to the entrance of the cave before he slowly lowered himself into the pool with a handful of soap grass and washed himself as thoroughly as he could manage.
Once he had scrubbed any spot of black muck off his skin and hair, he pulled himself out. Thankfully the fruits of the vine had restored enough energy that he was not collapsing on the spot. Picking up his staff from where he had dropped it next to the pool, he used it to carry the spoiled rags back out to the fire pit and tossed them in, where they immediately caught alight with a terrible stench.
Thankfully, a strong gust of wind blew down the mountain, blasting the smoke and smell into the trees; in his exhaustion Chún giggled at the sound of aggrieved howls and other noises of complaint that sounded out from various forest creatures caught in the path of the noxious cloud.
"Thank you, my friend,'' Chún said wearily, "It was you that shook me out of Cultivation when I had almost lost myself, was it not? I owe you my life."
The top of the pot opened, releasing a cloud of fragrant steam and Chún felt himself start to salivate again. Realising he was hungry again, he nodded to himself. "I really overdrew. I would have died if it had been me from last moon… all the tempering my body has experienced in the last... week... from using Essence saved my life too." He sat quickly on the ground and pressed his hollow pumpkin shell to the side of the pot for the stew to fill it.
The stew was even tastier than the previous night. He went through three bowls before feeling full and sighed. "I needed this. Can you remind me to add more ingredients and water tomorrow?"
Feeling his new friend's agreement, he pulled himself to his feet with the help of his staff, collected his sleeping pad from the drying rock and headed back to his bed.
L’AVIS DES CRÉATEURS 
WheeledWriter
WheeledWriter Well. That went a lot further than I intended and at the same time didn't make the plot progress I had initially planned at all.
Oops?
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone