A Friend In Need Is A Friend Indeed

  Then it was Teyren who asked, not for himself—but for his friend. “What will you do with this power?”

  Dar met his eyes. And ughed—not mockingly, but softly. Warmly.

  “The same thing I always do,” he said. “Uplift.”

  He looked toward the vilge, where ughter still echoed.

  “We’re human. And our nature, when we’re not drowning in fear or pride, is to help each other.”

  “The foundations of every great pce were id by people like you and I—brick by brick, generation after generation.”

  “There are still people who do that.

  Who build.

  Who carry.

  Who care.”

  His voice darkened slightly, with a trace of anger but more simple exhaustion.

  “But there are too many who exploit them. Too many who twist the system to grab a bigger slice of meat.”

  He looked back at them.

  “I’m not here to conquer anything.” He closed his eyes for a moment in thought. “I’m here to remind people that we were never meant to live like that.”

  Dar stopped.

  A flicker of something behind his eyes—a ripple across the still water of his mind.

  He reached into his bag and pulled out his notebook.

  Both men leaned in, astonished by the contents—clean writing, tight diagrams, careful sketches, all the kind of obsessive notation only a man with too much memory and too much time could create.

  Teyren saw the shift in Dar’s focus and grew alert. “What is it?”

  Dar looked between them, then around, as if listening for something more than sound.

  “Brothers,” he said quietly. “Would you mind if I spoke to you directly?”

  They exchanged a gnce and nodded.

  Dar pced a hand on each of their shoulders—and their minds opened to his Qi.

  His voice flowed not through sound, but through Qi.

  “We’ve proven something in Ironwood, and verified it in Hearthgate,” Dar said. “The Feral aren’t natural. They’re made.” His eyes moved between them. “Constructed. Released. Controlled.”

  “And there’s more: some artifact or treasure is observing. Not always. But often enough that the vilgers—everyone—can now spot the pattern.”

  Both men stared at him. The weight of this truth settled in the silence.

  Dar chuckled—not with joy, but with a sarcastic bitterness that scraped the edge of his words.

  “And to answer your question, I was just thinking…”

  “What possible benefit could there be to keeping all men locked in petty struggles, fighting over scraps?”

  “What would an enemy gain by sending beasts to sughter the farmers, the builders, the bcksmiths—the ones who actually sustain all those self-aggrandizing jackals at the top?”

  He paused, the words heavy in the air.

  Then, quietly—

  “If they keep us starving, scared, and fighting each other, maybe it’s because they’re afraid of what we could build together.”

  “Or… They aim to take what we have.”

  Both men stood in stunned silence. Dar waved his hand, breaking the connection with a soft pulse of Qi. Both men were stunned by the skill they were unfamiliar with.

  “Anyways,” he said, back to his usual warm, grounded tone, “how can I help you, brother? Something hurting? Need a little tune-up?”

  Before Meiyu could answer, Dar gently took his hand and closed his eyes.

  “Mmm… Low Core, huh? Circution’s sluggish—no wonder it’s taking you forever to build pressure.” His brows furrowed slightly.

  “Ah, yep. Found it. You’ve got some weak spots here... here… and oh—yep. You took a hit a while back. Your Core’s got a few cracks. Not big ones, but they’re holding you back.”

  Meiyu blinked, still too stunned to speak.

  Dar grinned.

  “Wanna dive in and see what we can fix? I’ll need a bit of time, and Mistress Lana’s gonna cry when she sees your meridians—they’re tragic.”

  He gnced over at Teyren, eyes twinkling. “Speaking of Lana… someone asked when you were due back.”

  A pause.

  “That was yesterday, by the way.” Dar grinned, letting the words hang, then cackled. “Eheheheh.”

  Teyren’s face flushed crimson. “A cultivator casts off worldly desires!” he blurted, half-defensive, half-reflex.

  Dar froze. Blinked. Then, he slowly turned to him, his eyes wide with exaggerated disbelief.

  “Really?” he said, dragging the word out like it was sour. “If your enemy wanted to conquer a nation, what better way than to convince its strongest, wisest men that having children is a sin?”

  The words hit like a sp. Silence stretched between them, heavy and strange.

  Teyren’s brows furrowed.

  Meiyu looked like someone had just taken his sword and handed him a baby goat.

  They turned to each other.

  “Who says that’s not the cultivator’s way?” Teyren asked slowly.

  “I mean… It’s tradition,” Meiyu muttered. “But… where did it start?”

  Their expressions shifted—from confusion to concern to something bordering on panic.

  Dar watched them spiral with an amused smile and gently set the tea kettle down.

  “You’re both adorable when you’re deconstructing millennia of indoctrination,” he said.

  The two masters stood there, warriors of a hundred battles, staring off into the distance like lost students at their first lecture.

  “Anyways,” Dar said, stretching his arms, “unfortunately, I’m on a tight timetable today—so let’s go see Grandma and get you squared away, friend.”

  He turned to Teyren with a sly grin.

  “By the way… I assume you haven’t passed along that letter yet, right?”

  Teyren flinched.

  Dar chuckled and waved it off.

  “It’s fine. Honestly, I’m just curious. I imagine there’ll be quite a stir once they realize four Core Formations popped up overnight like mushrooms after rain.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck.

  “I’ve been thinking… might be time to open a clinic. Maybe a little shop, too. Somewhere people can visit with questions, or get a check-up while I gather what I need to keep building.”

  He looked at both men, eyes bright. “What do you think? Would people come?”

  Teyren snorted. “Would they come? Dar, if you opened a stall selling sand, people would line up thinking it was sacred dust.” He crossed his arms, pretending to be stern but clearly proud. “Half the elders I know would crawl here on shattered knees just to have you gnce at their meridians.”

  Meiyu, still recovering from his worldview being dismantled earlier, nodded slowly.

  “They’ll come,” he said.

  “The moment word spreads that there’s someone who can heal what sects charge spirit stones just to look at? They’ll come from every corner of the kingdom.”

  He hesitated, then added in a quieter voice, almost embarrassed:

  “And… not just for healing. Some will come because they want to believe what you said is true. That someone like you even exists.” Then his face turned hard.

  “But also, they would come to take you or take the method.

  Teyren's smile faded as he realized Meiyu was right.

  Dar’s head tilted. “Hoh, you don’t say.” Dar didn’t look surprised, but he did look a bit defeated. “Whether it is helping people or making money... always a sect or cn trying to snatch it. Maybe I can sell it to the government when I go test.” He thought aloud.

  “I was already thinking of talking to my father-in-w when I asked for Alia’s hand in marriage—see what he thinks. If the kingdom could make a fair way to provide tokens, then those who meet the criteria could get my assistance. What I don’t want is a bunch of powerful cutthroats. Then I’d have to do double the work, which I don’t have time for.”

  “Double the work?” Teyren asked, confused.

  Dar slid his thumb across his throat.

  The Potion Mistress had been very helpful.Dar had watched a man—one who had sworn off the idea of a partner’s warmth—bask in a woman’s radiance, seeing it with new eyes and a softened heart.

  When she finished making the pastry, Teyren remained behind, saying he’d remembered something he needed to discuss and would catch up with them ter at the hall. Dar had Meiya sit so they could talk.

  He liked the man. He was someone who understood the people’s struggles and helped in whatever way he could. Sometimes, that’s all anyone can do—and Dar respected that.

  “Brother Meiya,” Dar said gently, “I must warn you. You’ll likely be just as changed as Brother Teyren... but what worries me is the attention you’ll receive if you speak too freely of it. Please—be careful.”

  Elder Meiya had been bracing himself for some hidden cost to be named, like a bill of sale.But what he received instead… was a warning given out of kinship.

  Red-eyed, he stood and saluted.

  For two days, he’d heard tales of this man and his deeds. He had been skeptical—but since their arrival, every word Teyren had spoken had proven true. It was as if he felt that even the smallest lie would have cast him back to the man he used to be.

  Dar stood and returned the salute.

  Then, with a simple motion, a tilted table rose from the earth.

  “Brother,” he said, “let us begin.”

  Later, when it was all done, Meiya sat in a profound silence. Time passed, and Dar said nothing, waited with him.

  Elder Meiya watched the sunrise—so beautiful he openly wept.Beside him, his brother sat, offering his thanks and dreams to the sun.

  Inside Meiya’s body, a dark blue pnet simmered with hidden power.Beneath it, a Core—smooth and efficient—responded to his every thought. He wanted movement? It happened as he thought it.

  He gnced at Teyren and felt kinship. They knew the road they had traveled. They understood its perils and pitfalls.

  Only someone who has truly suffered the same can know what it is to stand beneath a sun so beautiful it steals your breath.

  Then, they just never left. They walked. They listened. They helped. Then they helped more.

  They cast off their robes and wore clothes that the people brought them. Still, they worked until sunset.

  They sat with new friends and drank pure water, and tea so good it lingered on the lips.Lana joined them, making them ugh, and people reminisced, hoping for the future.

  Later, in the darkness, Teyren spoke. “There is so much to do. I feel I don’t have enough time.”

  Meiya answered, “If we work together, it will go faster. Would they let us stay?”

  There was a long silence. Then, in a low voice: “Brother Meiya... Mistress Lana has asked that we stay. They have a pce for us, if we wish it.”

  A day prior.

  Dar helped cook the evening meal, cleared everything away, and then proceeded to pamper his darlings.

  They spent time talking about the trip to Seldara—forty days by wagon if they didn’t choose to ride. Dar offered ideas and small comforts to ease the journey, and they all considered what the road ahead might hold.

  Later, he entertained them with a water show—conjuring beasts they had never seen before, strange and majestic creatures that danced and floated in the air.

  If they liked one, the animal would nuzzle or gently hug them. Alia loved this the most. Her eyes sparkled as a pyful sea otter wrapped around her arm, and she ughed when it kissed her on the cheek.

  For the finale, a friend—Mr. Jellyfish, as Cheri called him, descended from above, dimmed the lights, and gently gripped their hands, pulling them toward bed.

  Serel gave everyone a goodnight and vanished into the quiet with a wink. Alia had to be carried to her bed, grumbling sleepily when reminded that tonight was special—that they wouldn’t all be sleeping together, much to her dismay.

  Finally, Dar took Cheri to his room.

  They awoke to the sun’s glow painting the wall.Dar offered a quiet prayer as he y beneath her—Cheri’s bare leg draped over him, pinning him in pce. Her skin was smooth, warm. Her long limbs made him wonder if her feet could reach the far wall from where they y.

  When she stirred, she smiled and kissed him— Not like she usually did.This kiss was urgent, sincere, as though she feared the world might vanish if she didn’t hold on tightly enough. He drowned in it.Drowned in her.

  And for a brief moment, He was utterly content.

  Then came a loud sp, a feminine moan, and—Just like that, he ruined it.

  It had taken him a decade to get to this exact position, and if he was honest, the beating he received was, in his mind at least.

  “Worth it”