On Cosmic Tides

“How do you even know where to find this stuff?”

Laurel paused at the question from Borin. Hadn’t she explained her origins when he first joined up with the sect? “I grew up in the region. We wandered all over, foraging, hunting, shirking chores back at the main compound. The names are new but the good doctor included descriptions so it’s easy enough.”

“Who’s we?”

“My friends. They were members of the sect too. We had lessons together, were assigned missions together. That level of proximity can go one of two ways and we became close friends, eventually wandering far and wide on our adventures. Slaying beasts and ferreting out secrets, making names for ourselves.”

“Are they going to visit soon then? Or will we go to the old sect compound to meet them?”

Her breath caught. She hadn’t explained the full story, hadn’t been able to stomach speaking the words aloud. But the boy deserved something. “No. No visiting. I’m all that’s left.”

Borin had the sense to let the subject drop and they wandered in silence. She knew he had to be curious, and he was trusting her with so much. She could give him this. “I was away from home. Far away. I was sent to help another sect with some spirit beasts. When I got there they lured me into a trap. By the time I got out I had no idea what was going on. I made my way back home and I found…” Laurel trailed off. How do you describe the fundamental truths of your world breaking down the middle?

“It doesn’t matter. The sect is gone. Except for us. That’s why we’re doing this. It will take time, but we can rebuild the sect and keep the founder’s vision alive. We can, and we will.” She knew this last bit was more for her than Borin, but she let it out anyway.

They reached a clearing within walking distance of a stream, and Laurel deemed it good enough for their campsite. Under her direction Borin had a small fire going, only a slight burn to show for it. She produced a rabbit carcass and set it to roasting as they settled in.

********

“Why join the sect when it’s illegal? You said you joined when you were around my age. But you’re not that old.” Borin was pushing his luck. Laurel had been in a talkative mood, answering questions in between directions on how to harvest plants and mushrooms, or stops for cultivation practice. He figured he could make the most of it.

To his surprise, Laurel actually laughed. “I’m a lot older than I look. Benefits of cultivation,” she said with a wink. “My parents were weavers, and good ones. We lived in the City the Eternal Archive ran. It might surprise you but I lacked the patience for weaving as a child.” A rueful smile crossed her face. “Truthfully I hated it. I tried a few other occupations but nothing stuck. The sect offered entrance exams each year, and I took them and passed. I never looked back. Trained hard so I would get to stay, eventually realized I had a knack for swordfighting and I became one of the sect warriors.”

Borin let the conversation lapse in happy memories this time as they ate dinner and turned in, him to his lumpy bedroll, and Laurel to a large tent he swore she was not carrying when they left.

Birdsong woke him before the next dawn. He rubbed his eyes and forced himself to sit up, finding Laurel already awake and meditating. Her eyes flicked open and she tossed one of the oat bars she carried around as trail rations. Borin had been forced to make this batch and looked longingly at the dead fire before digging in.

They were heading north, Laurel confident they would find several of the herbs the doctor had requested if they went slightly higher into the hills. Borin just followed the directions she called out. Pick that herb, scrape the moss off that tree, harvest the stem but not the flower of another.

More hours slipped by until the afternoon was almost gone. Borin wasn’t paying attention, and the slanting rays of the sun near-blinded him as he stumbled into another clearing. When his vision returned, Laurel was not where she had been next to him. Blinking his eyes clear of water, he spun around and realized what he’d missed. A small stone building was nestled on the far side of the small glade. Hidden beneath the canopy at the edge of the clearing, it had moss growing up the sides, the door and window frames having long since rotted away, and the back left corner collapsed on itself. Laurel was staring like the secrets of life were locked away inside.

Borin eased closer, looking for some of the signs Laurel had spent the last day hammering into him. The birds and insects were still making noise. No odd smells or flashes of unexpected colors. No twig snapping that he could detect. But something had entranced his teacher. He came up next to her, staring at the gaping darkness of the doorway.

“The sect made this,” she finally said. “You can see where the crest was engraved above the door.”

“This was the sect house?” Borin tried not to let his disappointment come through in his voice. Laurel had described hundreds of people but this was barely a cottage.

“Not at all. The sect built dozens of these way stations across the region. Shelter for anyone in the area, for whatever reason. When it was still active there would have been a lock only a member of the sect could open. When the sect was attacked it would have been abandoned.”

Borin inspected the building with new interest. The building that had been uninhabited for decades at least, judging by the wear. Then he turned and looked at Laurel. The woman who appeared to be around 30, if he was forced to guess.

“Laurel. How long were you trapped by those other cultivators?”

“You know, I’m not entirely sure. How old is the Laskarian Empire? It definitely wasn’t around didn’t exist before I went underground.”

**********

Laurel watched as Borin flubbed his third attempt at starting a fire. The boy’s hands had been shaking for the last half hour since she told him how long she’d been trapped. She’d spent the same time going over every conversation they’d ever had. In her zeal to start moving forward on establishing the sect, explaining her own history hadn’t been a priority. More concerning, she couldn’t recall explaining the long-term effects of cultivation either.

“Borin.” He flinched so hard the flint went flying a few meters across the clearing. She sighed. “Borin, you know cultivation is magic right?”

“What? Of course I know. I’m not stupid. Why are you asking? Everything is fine –”

“Enough. You just seemed a bit on edge. Maybe it was too much information at once.”

Laurel watched as he dragged his hands through his hair, leaving it sticking up in every direction. “It’s not too much. It’s just one thing to hear about magic. Another to find out you know someone that’s, like, a thousand years old. Or older? I thought it was more like, meditating to find your inner peace kind of magic. Not ‘live forever’ kinds of magic. You know? Like I didn’t think –”

Whatever he was going to say was cut off as Laurel sent a small bolt of lightning into the pile of kindling. “Cultivation can be bent to wonders you’ve never dreamed of, or horrors you don’t want to imagine. That was nothing. I’ve seen cultivators turn back tidal waves, stand alone against an army, fly through the air or thrive in the deepest ocean. Cultivators strong enough to travel between worlds could push whole planets out of their way. That’s what we’re aiming for.

“But not tonight. It’s getting late so meditate on inner peace or something and then go to bed. We’ll head back in the morning.”

********

This time Borin had some pep in his step as he walked into town. After he got over the initial shock of Laurel’s revelations, he had quickly transitioned to giddiness. Shooting lightning from his hands, being young and strong forever. This was the stuff of stories or kids games. Laurel had sent him off with a backpack stuffed full with the foraged plants. So lost in his imagination, he barely noticed the distance to town as it passed by.

Doc Q was surprised to see him back so soon, and uninjured. But he was happy enough to pay for the contents of Borin’s pack. He left carrying more money than he ever had in his life. He could feel the awkwardness oozing out of him as he tried to walk without calling attention to himself. Despite the efforts, he could feel eyes on him the entire way to the general store. He checked himself in the doorway. There were two strangers inside. One a tall thin man with dark hair, dark eyes, and all black clothes. He was accompanied by a stout woman with two hatchets slung across her hips. Both glanced over at him but went back to their conversation without comment.

“Oy, in or out boy!”

The shopkeeper made his presence known and Borin hurried inside. He remembered the scolding from the time he’d knocked half the shelves over and had no desire to repeat it. It didn’t matter. Instead of making his way through the maze of shelves – that he maintained were too close together – he walked over to the proprietor and handed over the list Laurel had sent him with. The man took it with a grunt and started piling things up on the counter. Borin watched with a bit of trepidation, this was going to be a heavy walk back home.

“What’s a young man like yourself need with all that?” It took a moment to realize the strange man was speaking to him.

“Oh. I’m picking up supplies for myself and my teacher. We live on a farm outside of town so it's easier to do all at once.”

“Heavy load. Your teacher must be a real taskmaster.” Borin decided he’d judged the man too soon.

“She is. But she’s a good teacher too, patient, smart.”

“What’s she teaching you, farming?” The woman had joined them silently.

“Oh, a bunch of things. Woodcraft, history, how to fight.” An unfamiliar whisper of caution kept him from mentioning the lightning. The imperial government wasn’t a fan of magic, even if most folks thought it was mostly harmless stories. His supplies were assembled so he passed over some of the silver from the doctor and loaded his pack back up.

“Good luck with that, boy.” The man clapped him on the shoulder and wandered off back to his survey of the goods on offer. Borin made his way back to the farmstead. Something about the interaction didn’t sit quite right but he put it out of his mind as he trudged the kilometers home.

**********

It was Laurel’s turn to make the trip to town. Besides a few other foraging trips, her plans to amass enough to pay off the farm by doing jobs for the town had not met much success. The locals weren't warming up to them either. She was regretting establishing the sect house so far outside of town. The people here hadn’t had a chance to get used to them, but she didn’t have enough local silver to buy a building in the center of things. And this place didn’t have enough interest in ancient artifacts to raise the funds by selling something off. She shook off the regrets. It would work. This was how the founders had begun the Eternal Archive in the first place, and what was good enough for them was good enough for her.

A quick scan with her spiritual senses told her the mayor was alone, so she decided to continue her tradition of stopping in for a chat. The secretary averted her eyes but waved Laurel straight through.

“Mr. Mayor, how have things been?”

The man glanced at Laurel before returning his gaze to the papers in front of him. “Yes, good. Nothing unusual. Was there something I can help you with?”

Laurel narrowed her eyes. The man still wasn’t looking at her. A far cry from the jovial man who welcomed her with a drink on her previous visits. “Are you sure everything is alright, Borin hasn’t caused any trouble has he?”

The man finally jerked his eyes up. “No, not at all. Just imperial paperwork you know?” He said the last with a brittle smile that stirred Laurel’s pity.

“Better you than me. I’ll leave you to it, then. Best of luck.”

The owner of the general store was similarly curt, though that seemed to be the man’s normal state of being. He was, however, the bearer of good news, so Laurel forgave the surly man his quirks. For now.

“New job came in for you. Pack of wolves off northeast that need to be encouraged away from town. Pays good.” He handed over a note with the same information, Laurel’s eyes bugging out at a sum that was more than the rest of the jobs she’d done so far combined.

“I’ll take it. Thank you.”

She jogged the way home to let Borin know he’d have to be on his own for the next week or so. He was coming along well, but she didn’t trust him not to fall over and offer himself up to wolf claws in the worst possible moment.