Guiding Light (A Grounded Cultivation Story)

[I.F. Ister]

Qi senses are a curious thing. Just as mortal vision can see only so far, the third eye likewise has its limits. Normally, these limits are in specificity, depth, and range. For specificity, one can only sense so many individual motes of qi at once before it fades into the clamor of background qi. Likewise, one can only 'peel back' the 'pages' of qi up to a certain depth; to see past the layers and into the jing that resides at the heart of all things is a considerable achievement indeed.

For specificity and depth, once you reach your current limit you can go no further. If you can only sense three layers deep, then you can only sense three layers deep. If you can only make out a handful of qi motes, then you can only make out a handful of qi motes. In the case of one's range, the maximum distance one can sense qi at, there are exceptions.

Things that have accumulated certain amounts of qi are able to act as beacons of sorts. They shine bright in the distance and draw the gaze of the third eye even well beyond the range of one's mundane sight. Often, these take the form of things like giant gingko or other natural treasures.

However, as Ren approaches the cinnabar mine and a sudden, shining, golden presence drives spikes through his mind, he is reminded that cultivators of sufficient might also have this 'beacon effect.'

Ren's knees buckle as he collapses, eyes shrinking to pinpricks as stiff arms keep him off the ground. His throat burns as his cheeks swell, liquid sick wetting the dirt with chunks of morning stew. Ears filling with the hammers of the heart, Ren rolls onto his side, avoiding the vomit, and stares at the sky as his chest rises and falls in a frantic, frenzied tempo.

Gritting his teeth, Ren screws his eyes shut as he reaches deep inside and grasps hold of his bloodshot third eye. Willpower alone keeping him conscious, Ren forcibly shuts his qi senses down. Instantly, his body goes limp and his breathing slowly evens out.

That presence, golden and glorious, hit Ren from miles away. He was an hour or more away from the mine and even he, with his meagre range, sensed it! What kind of strength could manifest a beacon of that magnitude? How powerful must its owner be?

"Have you recovered?" Yuanding asks, cautious confusion furrowing his brows.

Ren manages a shaky nod as he climbs to his feet, "I, I think so, yes."

Yuanding hums, offering a waterskin which Ren gladly accepts, "What was that?"

Ren takes a deep drought of cool water, a river of sweat leaving his brow slick, "I think I just met their 'Big Chief'."

"And she attacked you?"

"No," Ren frowns as he returns the waterskin, eyes shifting towards the distant destination, "I'm not even sure she knows I'm here."

The rest of the journey is done in silence, neither overly eager to consider the implications.

---

The burning stench of overly strong alcohol assaults Ren as he steps into the mine's clearing. In the middle of the compound, planted out in the open, is a trio of figures—two standing, one lazily reclining in a portable throne. Ren recognizes one as Fa Fo Lung, his monstrous frame casting a broad shadow across the open space, while the other bandit standing nearby is a meek twig of a man who flinches with every flickering shadow.

With a lazy leg slung over an armrest and an elbow propping up her chin, a tall woman drapes herself across a throne. Each meaty bicep rivals Ren's head in size as patchwork scars turn her weather-beaten skin into a tapestry telling the tale of a life immersed in violence. A wicked burn scars her left cheek from ear to chin as a bandoleer of throwing knives crosses her lamellar-clad chest. A fine sword leans against an armrest while a half-empty box of glass bottles sits in her lap. She casually plucks a bottle from the box and bites through the neck, guzzling down glass and alcohol in the same gulp.

As Ren stops across the clearing from the bandits, a broad smile cracks Lung's face as he nudges the presumed Big Chief with an elbow.

"Looks like you owe me dinner," Lung chuckles as the Big Chief slumps low with a heavy groan.

"Should never have taken that bet," she sighs, shaking her head as she sits up with a slight wheeze. Working her neck, she yawns as she turns her hazel eyes on Ren, "Shang Rou Ren, yeah? Lil' brother of the guy who says he stores all the money, right?"

"That is me, correct," Ren bristles at being reduced to 'Shang Rou Fang's little brother', but keeps his cool.

"Right, right," she nods before taking a swig, "Well, I'm Zhurong," she leaves her given name to dangle alone in the wind, "and I hear you've got something of a business proposal for me, is that right? Something to do with wantin' a talisman commissioned...?" She trails off as she looks to Ren expectantly.

Ren takes a quick breath as he calms his nerves. This is it, there can be no backtracking once he crosses this line. Is he ready?

No, no he is not, but that choice was made a long time ago, wasn't it?

"You are correct, yes," Ren's nod is a stiff thing as he gets, as they say, 'down to business.' "I have a talisman I want copied, and you have a talisman expert who can make that copy." The meek man twitches at the mention of a 'talisman expert.'

"Can I see this talisman of yours?" Zhurong asks with a lazy flick of the wrist.

"I do not have it with me," Ren replies with controlled tone, his words carefully selected to imply he wouldn't deny her anything.

Zhurong laughs, "Smart!" She smacks her free hand to her forearm in an impromptu round of applause, "I'd have absolutely robbed the crap outta you if you'd've been stupid enough to bring the talisman."

Ren stays silent throughout the applause, carefully not thinking about how he hadn't considered that as a potential at all. With how downright casual Lung and Zhurong seem to be, he had almost forgotten that they are, at their core, bandits. Could that have been the intent all along? To make him lower his guard?

Zhurong closes off her clapping with a pleased sigh, "Alright, alright, let's talk silver, eh? What're you working with here?" She chuckles, "I'm assuming you don't have the payment with you right now, cause you don't seem the stupid type."

"You are correct," Ren nods only for Zhurong to grin.

"About the stupid type or you not having the payment with you?" She asks as Ren freezes. Did he just walk into a verbal trap? Quickly playing back her words, he frantically searches through every possible meaning as Zhurong's lips wriggle and humor lights in her eyes. She breaks out into laughter, slapping the bottle's base against an armrest, as she wipes a tear from her eye, "I'm just messing with you, kid! You gotta learn to relax a bit, you know? You'll lose all your hair if you keep stressin' about all the little things in life, you hear?"

Ren grimaces as his eye twitches, hand threatening to twist into a fist that would surely see him dead faster than the eye can blink. Taking a deep breath, he lets all the anger flow from his mind as years of meditation pay off in spades, "I do not have the payment with me."

Zhurong waves a hand, "Alright, alright, lets hear what you've got." Her brows lift as she shifts forward ever so slightly, "And it better be a good offer, I don't do haggling."

Ren's answer takes the form of a single gingko fruit, which he places on the ground before him.

Silence reigns as Zhurong, Lung, and the unnamed talisman expert stare at Ren. Ren stares back, fighting to keep his face still and unmoving. With this move, the balance of power just shifted in his direction. It forces Zhurong to react, to cede initiative to Ren if only for an instant.

Zhurong leans forward, slipping her leg off the armrest to sit straight in her chair. Her eyes sharpen, the haze of alcohol vanishing in an instant, as all humor fades with a blink.

"A gingko fruit," words normally ending in a question instead ride the tone of a flat observation.

"No," Ren replies, thankful of Father's lessons for once in his life, "the tree it came from."

"Go on."

Ren allows himself a small smile, drawing upon his memories of Fang for support, "A giant gingko, the location of which you would never be able to find on your own, is what I offer you."

Zhurong leans back as she hums, new appreciation dawning in her gaze, "You've got balls, kid, but don't bullshit me. A treasure like that would absolutely belong to the Heavenly Star... Sect," she frowns, her brows furrowing, and her eyes flick off to the side as thoughts race behind her pupils.

"Monsters, down the mountain," she mutters as she runs through thoughts faster than her mouth can fully process, "no disciples, half a week," her eyes widen and her jaw drops as realization sparks, "Fuck me running, the Heavenly Star is dead."

Lung swallows, a flicker of concern passing across his gaze as the talisman expert visibly trembles. A bead of sweat trickles down Zhurong's brow as she sucks down a deep breath. A moment passes before she nods and quickly hops to her feet, the box of alcohol falling with a clatter.

"Alright, Shang Rou Ren," Zhurong addresses Ren with a degree of actual respect in her tone, "you have a deal."

Zhurong extends her hand and Ren takes it, all while the Heavens watch from on high.

0~0~0

AN: Tomorrow, you'll be all caught up with Royal Road.

If you liked this chapter, consider showing the story some love on Royal Road!

 

[I.F. Ister]

The journey back to the grotto is swift, with the only item of note being Zhurong meeting Yuanding.

"I take it you're the caretaker of my new gingko?" Zhurong's words are blunt and to the point, making it clear that even if she is not the de jure owner of the giant gingko, she is its de facto master. Who would dare challenge her claim?

"I am called Yuanding and you are only half right. I am the caretaker, yes," Yuanding says, back straight and eyes alight with defiant fire, "but it is not your gingko."

Zhurong's lips quirk at the corners, her brows wriggling like inchworms, "Ooo, feisty. I like that in a man."

"Would that I could say the same, but loose women were never of interest to me."

"Truly scathing," Zhurong snorts as she flicks a flippant hand through the air, "Regardless of the desire smoldering between us, I find myself in need of a gingko caretaker."

"I have no interest in working for you, so I will continue my work for the gingko's sake."

"Works for me," Zhurong smiles as Fa Fo Lung groans, his head in his hands.

"Alright," he claps his hands, the thunderous sound alone enough to strip bare a circle of grass around him as the talisman expert yelps in fear, "that's enough verbal sparring for me. I'm going back to the fortress and, if you need me, I'll be preparing for when the Weeping Stone decides to hunt us down."

Not waiting for an answer, Lung drives a foot against the ground. The earth shakes, Lung's wake a knee-deep crater as he rockets into the air. His fingers blur through a dozen different shapes as he ascends. Thunder breaks as a sword of ice condenses beneath his feet, stopping his powerful leap just as it becomes a fall. Leaning forward, perfectly balanced on the frozen sword, he suddenly starts zipping across the sky as he heads dead east.

Ren stares at the crater, mouth slightly agape as the talisman expert predictably squeaks in fear. Such power wielded so casually... Ren shakes his head, dispelling the thought with contempt as he grits his teeth and straightens his spine. He is a cultivator! He has no business acting so shocked when other cultivators use their qi!

Zhurong blows a raspberry and shakes her head, "Show-off."

Exactly.

---

Passing into the grotto, Zhurong lets loose a sharp whistle as she beholds the gingko. Its boughs spread far across the sky, enveloping all within its branches.

"Incredible," she laughs, eyes full of glee, "Oh, man, I'm gonna get so much cultivation done here, might even make a Copper Core!"

Copper Core? Ren tilts his head to the side, the lessons of the past resurfacing as he considers Zhurong's words. Zhurong has a Golden Core, right? Why would she care about breaking through into Copper when she's already completely surpassed it? Speaking of Zhurong's Golden Core, she has a Golden Core, saint ciboire!

Ren can't help but laugh as the sheer enormity of his situation hits him all at once. Here he is, a fresh cultivator, going toe-to-toe in the verbal ring with a Golden Core! There are less than ten-thousand cultivators at the Golden Core in all the world. For one of those ten-thousand to be a bandit is unthinkable.

Bandits simply do not have the resources to refine a core to golden. It is a fundamental impossibility. Even Ren, with how limited his knowledge of the deeper mysteries of cultivation is, knows that.

And yet, here stands a shining example of such an impossibility. If Ren were to voice this fact, Zhurong would probably just laugh and say something annoying like 'cultivators achieve the impossible every day'.

Cultivators of the Golden Core are the culmination of hundreds of years of cultivation. To achieve such a staggering height, one must first create a Copper Core—which in itself is the work of twenty or more years—and then refine said Copper Core into a Silver Core over the course of an average human lifespan. According to Ren's studies, the average cultivator creates a Silver Core and then stops. They go no further, they plateau there and that is their end. A couple hundred years later, assuming they don't find a way to prolong their life through alchemy or other means, they die of old age.

To create a Golden Core requires unthinkable amounts of dedication. It requires such a staggering amount of time that only those with the backing of a sect could possibly have a hope of achieving it. You have to focus all of your time, forgoing sleep, socializing, and every meal on the clock, on cultivating.

If a Golden Core cultivator is a bandit, that can only mean one thing: they, for some reason, left their old sect. No sect would just allow a cultivator of such strength to leave... which just might be what this 'Weeping Stone' that Lung mentioned is; Zhurong's old sect.

But why is Zhurong now talking about forming a Copper Core? If it is some kind of a ploy to conceal her true strength, then why isn't she suppressing her qi beacon? It doesn't make any sense!

"You've done a real good job here, Yuanding," Zhurong says, clapping Yuanding on the shoulder, "This is the biggest gingko I've ever seen!"

Yuanding grunts, rolling his eyes. Turning to the side, he jabs a finger at the talisman expert and says, "You, come with me. I will show you to the talisman."

The talisman expert quails, eyes darting to Zhurong who sighs and nods. "Go on, Tally, you can't hide behind my skirts forever."

Tally gulps, "I-I guess..." He follows close behind Yuanding as they disappear into his hut, leaving Ren alone with Zhurong.

Zhurong rocks on her heels, still looking at the gingko, as something seems to come to mind. She jostles into motion, digging around in the folds of her clothes as she searches for something. Ren blinks as Zhurong cheers, having found whatever it was beneath one of the plates of her armor.

"There it is!" Zhurong laughs, a tiny box in her hand. Made of a red wood and built with a latching hinge, the box nestles neatly in her palm. "Here, kid, catch."

She tosses the box to Ren, who snatches it from the air, "What is this?"

"A pill," Zhurong yawns as she scratches her burnt cheek, "It'll heal your wounds in a couple-a days, long as you don't aggravate them or anything."

"Why are you giving me this?" Ren's fingers tighten around the box, half out of a desire to keep it and half to stop himself from throwing it away as hard as he can.

"Cause I want you," Zhurong grins as Ren coughs and sputters, "in my gang."

"W-what?" Ren fights down the rising blush, completely unprepared for the sudden attack. Oh, Heavens, she's found an angle that works on him. Casual displays of power didn't work, but apparently out-of-pocket sensuality does? Guide Star preserve him.

Zhurong snickers, eyes shining as she watches Ren struggle, "You've impressed me, and that's the truth." She shrugs as she strolls towards the gingko, "You don't need to have an answer now, just give it some thought, yeah?"

Ren pauses for a long moment, "...Do I have to give the pill back if I refuse?"

She snorts and waves off his concerns, "Nah, that's just an appetizer."

Ren purses his lips, eyes drifting to the pill box. She's acting in a different way, more... Not casual, per se, more... How to put it? If Zhurong normally puts up a front or some kind of façade, whether it be sensuality or casual strength or what have you, the way she's acting now... It has an air of authenticity to it, like she actually means the things she's saying.

"I always need more cultivators," Zhurong says as she comes to a stop beneath the gingko. Folding her legs beneath her, she takes a meditative pose beneath its boughs, "and you need a teacher."

Ren stares at the ground, dread shame rising within as sharp pain drives through his tongue.

0~0~0

AN: And we're pretty much caught up. I reckon I'll keep Royal Road a chapter or two ahead, just to entice people to head over there to check it out ;P

Speaking of which: Guiding Light

 

[I.F. Ister]

Ren pushes open the door to Yuanding's hut, still clutching the pillbox as he steps inside. The door slides shut as Ren takes in the scene before him.

The inset cooking fire is naught but ash, a slight chill in the air as Yuanding uses the gardening chest as a seat. He sits with arms folded and a sullen look upon his face. His bow leans against his leg while his quiver lies across his lap. A shallow grunt is his greeting when Ren enters the room.

In the middle of the hut, kneeling down on the floor, is the talisman expert—or, as Zhurong called him, 'Tally.' A stack of thick paper sits by Tally's side, tied together with a carefully wrapped silk ribbon. On his other side is a collection of sharp-tipped brushes of varying sizes alongside a small, palm-sized clay pot. The pot's lid has a clasp keeping it tightly shut, presumably so the valuable cinnabar-ink doesn't spill.

"This is just incredible!" Tally's words lack the shake and shiver of fear as he waves a hand at the talisman before him. Perhaps being away from the source of his terror is good for him? Or maybe he has such an obsession with talismans that his fright falls to the wayside? "Absolute genius!"

"What makes this talisman deserving of such praise?" Ren asks as he slides down next to Tally, careful to avoid disturbing the purposefully arranged tools of the talisman trade.

"Just look at it!" Tally gently lifts the talisman up, making sure to blunt his excitement lest he damage the old paper. The talisman is the same as when last Ren looked at it, a collection of fine swirls, loops, and crosses done in a minimalistic design. A wonderful work of art by all reckoning, no doubt, but the way Tally speaks of it implies something deeper, something more magical.

Ignoring the temptation to open his third eye—the nearby Zhurong would surely overwhelm his senses again—Ren considers what Tally might mean. The talisman manages to mask the presence of the giant gingko through some unknown means, so perhaps it is the method that has Tally so worked up?

"Just tell him already!" Yuanding grunts from atop his chest, annoyance rising in his gaze.

Tally flinches, but this does little to dampen his enthusiasm. Still, he takes several deep breaths before turning towards Ren, "Okay, so," he purses his lips, searching for the right words, "there are a dozen different ways for a talisman to do any given thing, right? But most of the time only one or two of those methods are used to do it."

"I'm following."

"Well," Tally swallows his excitement and wiggles a finger at the talisman, "okay, so, the way that qi beacon suppressing talismans work is by concealing the aura, and this talisman is no different. However," he hurriedly continues, not wanting to give the impression that this talisman is anything but genius, "the actual method is what makes it so clever!"

Ren blinks, long and slow, as several heartbeats pass in silence, "And that method is...?"

Tally bobs his head, looking much like a heron or some other long-necked bird, "Okay, so, it takes the excess qi and spreads it out over a large area! That means that your typical illusion piercing technique or what have you can't pierce through it, because the actual qi aura is spread thin. The only way you'd be able to sense it is if you were right on top of it!"

Ren frowns, not quite sure he entirely understands what Tally is saying—Tally doesn't seem to be the best at explaining things, or perhaps Ren just struggles to comprehend talismans?—but he reckons that he has the gist of it.

"So, essentially," Ren says as he sums it up as best he can, "the talisman spreads the qi out over a large area, which counters illusion breaking techniques because there is no illusion to break?"

"Exactly!"

Ren's lips thin, the next question on his tongue the most important, "Can you make a copy?"

Tally hesitates and Ren's heart sinks, "Well... Okay, so," Ren squints as Tally repeats himself for the umpteenth time, "talismans draw their strength from the precision of the drawing and the quality of the paper it's drawn on, right?" Ren nods and Tally continues, "So, I can copy the brushstrokes perfectly, but I don't have anywhere near the quality of paper to actually copy it beat for beat." He gestures at the talisman, "This was done with, I dunno, Starlight Goldpaper or Starlight Ironpaper or something, definitely Starlight though, you can tell thanks to the twinkle, and I've only got standard."

"What kind of a difference would that make?"

Tally clicks his tongue, "Well, the copy wouldn't be able to obfuscate the qi source from qi signature reading techniques, so sufficiently developed qi senses will be able to trace the qi back to the source. So, I guess," Tally twists his fingers together, "it'll stop a Qi Sensing cultivator from tracking you, but not a Core Shaping cultivator."

"If I fight a Core Shaping monster, then I'm dead anyways so it doesn't matter," Ren's frown deepens as he leans in, brows furrowing in anger, "Can you or can you not make a copy strong enough to stop a Qi Sensing monster from tracking me?"

Tally cringes, quailing beneath Ren's anger as he frantically nods. "Yes, yes! I can, I-I can!"

"Then do so," Ren says as he rises to his feet, now conscious of the odd look Yuanding sends his way. An arched brow and tilted head, eyes filled with unreadable emotions.

Yuanding reaches out, resting a hand on Ren's shoulder, "Come, Shang, and let us leave the talisman expert to his work. Our presence would only distract him further, no?"

Ren pauses at the use of his family name. The barbarians of the north are said to forgo the hierarchy of formality and respect that underlies the name one uses for someone else. For Yuanding to use his surname specifically, and not his generation or personal name... It would have to be intentional, so what could it mean?

"I... I suppose it would, yes," Ren eventually says as Yuanding nods. Tally visibly relaxes as Yaunding guides Ren from the hut.

The evening air is crisp while wisps of outside mist slip into the grotto. The sun begins approaching the horizon, casting streaks of gold, pink, and red across the sky. Clouds bask in the golden light, their shadows dancing like flames on their underside.

Yuanding hums, an idle comment on his lips, "It will rain overnight."

Ren shifts, casting a glance to the skies, "Will it?" An uncertain sense of unease slides into his heart, the feeling almost like being scolded as a child.

Yuanding clicks his tongue, "It will, yes." He drops his head with a sigh, before lifting it to regard Ren fully, "It is unlike you to be so curt with people. What has you so agitated?"

"I..." Ren stiffens, caught flat-footed, and irritation takes the opportunity to fill the gap. "You have known me for fewer days than there are fingers on a hand, how could you possibly know me well enough to judge my character?"

"'Perhaps I should start?'" Ren freezes as Yuanding repeats his own words back to him. "That was what you told me when I asked if you thanked the bees for their honey. Wisdom like that and the anger you now show do not mix, so something is clearly wrong."

Ren opens his mouth, then closes it. He... Yuanding isn't wrong, not really. He has a point. Still, "Why do you care?"

"Why do I care?" Yuanding tilts his head as Ren scowls.

"I was stupid!" Ren nearly shouts as he lifts his arms to the sky, "I roped us into a relationship we had no need of. I forced you to work with bandits, to betray your oath to the Heavenly Star!"

Yuanding stays silent throughout Ren's tirade, waiting for him to tire himself out. When Ren's arms fall to his side and tears glisten in his eye, Yuanding gently lays a hand on Ren's shoulder, "You are right, you did do those things."

"I... What?"

Yuanding shrugs, eyes drifting to the setting sun, "I remember the follies of my youth, the many mistakes I made in search of that which I could never have, and if I were to judge you by the errors of your youth, it would be a much greater betrayal than anything you could ever force me into."

"I," Ren sniffles, a light shiver unrelated to the chill passing through his shoulders, "I don't understand."

"Do you remember the Star Shepherd's teachings?" Yuanding asks, the name of one of the Heavenly Star Sect's founders on his lips. Ren's mouth twists, silently following along as Yuanding continues, his voice deepening while reciting lessons of the past, "If each and every step down a path were perfect, there would be no need for a light to guide the way. Yet, life does not work that way. Mistakes will happen, missteps can only be expected. When one strays from the path, the Guide Star will always light the way back."

Ren swallows the lump in his throat, his heart crying out from a struck chord. Taking a deep breath, Ren lowers his head, teardrops slipping free of his eyes, and begins to speak, "Zhurong... She made me an offer. If I joined her gang, she would take me as her disciple. I..." Ren screws his eyes shut, forcing his words past a tight jaw, "I wanted so badly, so, so badly, to say yes. If I hadn't bit my tongue... I would have joined her, I would have become a bandit."

The Guiding Light teaches that strength is for protecting and aiding the weak. To become a bandit, one who prey exclusively upon the weak and defenseless, would be the ultimate betrayal of those ideals.

Ren is all that remains of the Heavenly Star Sect. He cannot allow himself to have such a lacking will.

Yuanding considers Ren's words, his hand stroking his belt-length beard as the sun brushes against the horizon, "To err is human," he eventually says, "and judgement is found not in the mistake itself, but in the reactions of the mistake-maker."

Ren is silent as he considers those words of wisdom. Wise they may be, and truth they may hold, but...

"If you are still beset by troubled thoughts," Yuanding says as he releases Ren's shoulder, "then perhaps it would be wise to consult the Guide Star? I can't imagine you have had much opportunity to pray as of late."

When was the last time Ren prayed? It had to have been before he broke through, but he can't quite recall if he had prayed that day or not. In his excitement, it is entirely possible that he forgot to pray entirely!

"In the meantime," Yuanding says as he steps away, "I shall tend to my garden, for I have neglected it horribly."

Yuanding leaves, giving Ren his needed space.

Ren waits in silence as the sun dips under the horizon and the tapestry of the night unfurls across the sky. Starry pinpricks pierce through the dark blanket, shining bright amidst an inky abyss.

Turning his gaze North, Ren settles his sight on the Guide Star, that which shines brightest and most true. From its fixed point in the night sky, the Guide Star watches on. For millennia have explorers, travelers, and all manner of wanderers looked to the Guide Star. For millennia has it lit the way for all who are lost. Even the Heavens themselves look to the Guide Star, for why else would they revolve around it so?

Setting the pill box down, Ren kneels and presses his brow to the earthen floor before sitting up. Twice more does he repeat this motion as he acknowledges the Guide Star as his master and teacher, as all Disciples of the Heavenly Star have before him. Though he never entered into the Inner Sanctum of the sect, he was still one of the followers of the Way. He knows the prayers well.

Great Star, light the way,
for those who wander,
for those who are lost,
and for those who know it not

Great Star, light the way,
to places of safety,
to loving hearth and home,
and, above all else,
to hope

A ringing sound leads Ren to open his eyes, which directs him to a beam of light shining from the Heavens. The beam falls on the pill box, its hinges and latch glittering under starlight. A feeling of warmth sweeps through Ren's body, one of comfort and safety. A mother's loving embrace, a father's steady protection. Reaching out, Ren opens the pill box and swallows the pill.

As the pill's healing power spreads through his body, Ren knows what he must do. He will follow the Way of the Guiding Light. He will give aid to those who seek it and those who do not. He will rebuild the Heavenly Star Sect.

And if he needs to become a bandit to see it done, then so be it.

But if banditry is what his future holds, it will be on his terms, by his rules.

This, Ren swears.

0~0~0

AN: Royal Road is always a couple chapters ahead ;P