I stared at the letter, reading it once, then twice.

  Cato,

  Your mother and I hope this finds you well. We wanted to write sooner, but the courier schedules are irregular this time of year, and Edith insisted we wait until we had proper news to share.

  Things here are much the same. Aldric is still grumbling about the noble's decisions, though I think he enjoys having something to complain about. Edith has been keeping busy—more than usual, actually. She's taken it upon herself to organize the village defenses, much to Aldric's chagrin. You know how she is when she gets an idea in her head.

  Fjorn asks about you every time I pass the forge. He says the place feels too quiet without your questions. I think he misses having someone to argue with about proper tempering temperatures. Hale's been helping him more, which has been good for both of them, though Hale's charcoal is still not up to Fjorn's liking.

  Your mother wants you to know she's been keeping the house in order, though she says it feels strange without you underfoot. She's been teaching some of the younger girls to make dyes and leather work, which keeps her occupied. She misses you terribly, but she won't say it outright. You know how she is.

  We wanted to wish you a happy birthday, even though by the time this reaches you it will have already passed. Nine years old. It's hard to believe. Your mother made your favorite honey cakes, and we shared them with Edith and a few others. They all send their regards.

  Don't worry about us, Cato. We're managing fine. Focus on your studies. Make the most of the opportunities you have there. We're proud of you, even if we don't always understand what you're thinking.

  Write when you can. Even a few lines would make your mother happy.

  Stay safe.

  —Rhys

  I folded the letter carefully and set it on the workbench. My chest felt tight, but not in the way it had when I first opened it. This was different. Warmer, yet heavier.

  They were fine. They said so. The village was the same. Everyone was managing.

  I sat down on the edge of my bed, staring at the folded paper. I'd been planning to go back. Not immediately, but eventually. Once the weather warmed and I forged the weapon I'd been planning. Just to see them, to check in.

  But what would that accomplish?

  The academy didn't give breaks. Even if I could get permission, the trip would take days each way. I'd barely have time to arrive before I'd need to leave again. And for what? To stand in the house for a few hours and then turn around?

  No. Going back now would just be selfish. A way to ease my own guilt, my own homesickness. It wouldn't help them. It wouldn't change anything.

  I picked up the letter again, running my thumb over the careful script. My father's handwriting was steady, controlled. The same way he did everything else.

  Focus on your studies. Make the most of the opportunities you have there.

  I stood, tucking the letter into a drawer, and went back to adjusting the furnace. The tower was warm now, the heating system working exactly as I'd planned. That was something I could control, unlike my emotions.

  The next evening, Magnar and Cassia showed up for meditation training. I'd been teaching them the basics of nei dan for over two months now, and their progress had been mixed.

  Magnar was a natural. It was infuriating, honestly. He'd managed to grasp the flow of aether already, observation like he'd been doing it his entire life. Within the first month, he'd located his aether pool and the outline of his lower dan tian.

  Cassia, on the other hand, struggled.

  It wasn't a matter of effort—she worked harder than Magnar did, spending hours in meditation every night. But internal cultivation required patience and stillness that didn't come naturally to her. She was too used to forcing things, pushing through obstacles with sheer determination.

  That wouldn't work here. She sabotaged herself by wanting immediate results as proof and pushing to get them. But then she'd see me and Magnar just do it, and she'd grumble and follow the example.

  They sat across from me in my bedroom, both with their eyes closed. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the stones.

  "What do you feel or sense?" I asked.

  Magnar opened his eyes first. "I can see the lower dan tian clearly now. It's... fuzzy, but it's there. Like looking through water."

  "Good. That's normal. It'll sharpen over time as your shen develops."

  Cassia's eyes stayed closed. Her brow was furrowed, lips pressed into a tight line.

  "Cassia?"

  "I see something," she muttered. "But it keeps changing. One moment it's a ball of light, the next it's... I don't know, a spinning wheel? It doesn't make sense."

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  I nodded. "That's the symbolic interpretation. Your mind is trying to make sense of something it's never perceived before, so it's translating the sensation into images it can understand. It's association."

  She opened her eyes, frustration clear on her face. "But that doesn't help. How am I supposed to work with it if I can't see it properly?"

  "You have to retrain your mind. Right now, you're seeing what you think it should be, not what it actually is. The dan tian isn't a ball of light or a wheel. It's a reservoir of energy. But your mind doesn't have a reference for that, so it's making one up. For your situation, try making the wheel spin faster or control the light, make it dim or make it gather to one point. You're probably catching glimpses of the upper dan tian."

  "But how do I stop it? From showing me a wheel?"

  "Practice. Observation without interpretation. When you see the ball of light, acknowledge it, then let it go. Keep your focus on the sensation itself—the warmth, the pressure, the flow. Eventually the symbolic images will fade, and you'll start perceiving the actual structure."

  Cassia looked skeptical but nodded. "How long did it take you?"

  "Like six months." I was referring to my first experience. "And I had the disadvantage of knowing more than I should have about what sensations and feelings to expect."

  She let out a frustrated breath but closed her eyes again, settling back into meditation.

  Magnar, meanwhile, was already back to it, his expression calm and focused. I watched him for a moment, noting the steady rise and fall of his chest, the complete stillness of his posture.

  "Magnar," I said quietly. "Try lowering your awareness in the water, approach what you feel."

  He didn't respond verbally, but I saw his breathing shift slightly, deepening. A few moments passed.

  "I feel it," he said, eyes still closed. "It's... warm... and cold? Like holding ice in the summer."

  "Good. Don't force it. Just observe."

  Cassia cracked one eye open, glancing at Magnar, then closed it again with a quiet huff.

  I let them sit in silence for a while, watching the sun slowly sink. The room grew dim, the only sound the faint rustle of wind through the overgrown weeds outside.

  Eventually, I called them out of meditation.

  "Alright. Let's talk theory."

  Cassia groaned. "Again?"

  "Yes, again. Isn't this what you wanted? More explanations. Perhaps what I'll tell you now will help with your inner vision."

  She crossed her arms but didn't argue further.

  I leaned back against the wall. "There are three treasures in internal cultivation. Jing, qi, and shen. You've both heard me mention them before, but we need to be clear on what they actually are."

  Magnar nodded. Cassia looked tired but attentive.

  "Jing is your essence. Your life force. It's what fuels your body, your growth, your vitality. When you eat, when you sleep, when you heal—that's jing at work. It's the foundation of everything else."

  "So it's like... stamina?" Cassia asked.

  "Close, but not quite. Stamina is a result of jing, but jing itself is deeper. Qi is closer to stamina, in fact. Jing's the raw material your body uses to sustain itself. If your jing is depleted, you age faster, you heal slower, you weaken. Think of it as the body of a candle."

  She frowned but nodded slowly.

  "Qi is the next step. It's refined energy. Jing is raw and unrefined, but when it's processed—by your organs, by your breath, by your awareness—it becomes qi. Qi flows through your meridians, nourishes your body, and accompanies your aether manipulation. It's similar to what you feel when you circulate aether through your body."

  "So aether is qi?" Magnar asked.

  "No. Aether is external. Qi is internal. Aether seems to be the same level of energy as qi, so they're related. When you draw aether into your body and attune it to yourself, you're using shen to guide it, qi and jing to refine it. The two work together."

  Magnar tilted his head, processing. "So jing becomes qi, and qi coexists with aether?"

  "Basically, yes. Though it's more complex than that. Jing doesn't just become qi—it has to be refined through specific processes. Breathing, meditation, internal circulation. These are methods to preserve jing and to hasten its conversion. That's what we're practicing."

  Cassia rubbed her temples. "Okay. Jing is life force, qi is refined energy. What's shen?"

  "Eh... Technically both qi and jing are lifeforce, but one is actively used by the body, the other waits to be consumed. As for shen... Shen is spirit. Your consciousness, your awareness, your will. It's what allows you to observe your internal state, to direct your qi, to cultivate in the first place. Without shen, you're just a body running on instinct. With it, you can shape your own development."

  "So it's like... your mind?" she asked.

  "Yes and no. Your mind is part of it, but shen is deeper. It's the root of intent, of focus, of self-awareness. When you meditate and observe your dan tian, that's shen at work. When you direct aether with your will, that's shen."

  Magnar frowned. "So we're training all three at once?"

  "Exactly. Jing provides the foundation. Qi refines and circulates it. Shen directs the process. They're interconnected. Strengthen one, and the others benefit. Neglect one, and the whole system suffers."

  Cassia was quiet for a moment, staring at the ground. "That's... a lot."

  "It is. But you don't have to master it all at once. Right now, focus on observation. Learn to see your jing, to feel the flow. The rest will come with time."

  She nodded slowly, though she still looked uncertain.

  Magnar, on the other hand, had that focused look in his eyes again. "So when we're meditating, we're using shen to observe jing, which is being refined into qi?"

  "Essentially, yes."

  "And the goal is to strengthen all three?"

  "The goal," I said carefully, "is balance. Jing, qi, and shen need to develop together. If you rush one ahead of the others, you create imbalances. That leads to instability, to blockages, to failures in advancement. Slow and steady."

  Cassia snorted. "You sound like an old master."

  "I'm just repeating what I've learned."

  "From who?"

  I hesitated. "Books. Observation. Trial and error, a lot of thinking."

  She gave me a skeptical look but didn't push further.

  Magnar stood, stretching his arms. "Same time tomorrow?"

  "Yeah. And Magnar—don't rush ahead. I know you're progressing fast, abnormally so, but don't skip steps."

  He grinned. "I'll try."

  "Don't try. Do."

  Cassia stood as well, brushing dust off her pants. "Thanks, Cato. Even if half of what you say makes my head hurt."

  "You'll get it. Just keep at it."

  She nodded while Magnar headed toward the gate, though he paused at the entrance.

  "You alright?" he asked, glancing back at me.

  I looked at him, surprised. "Yeah. Why?"

  "You've seemed... off. Since the letter."

  I shrugged. "Just thinking."

  "About home?"

  "Something like that."

  He nodded slowly. "If you need to talk..."

  "I'm fine, Magnar. Really."

  He didn't look convinced but let it drop. "Alright. See you tomorrow."

  "Yeah. Tomorrow."

  He left, leaving the gate open behind him.

  I stood there in the courtyard, staring at the remaining Cassia. "What are you waiting for?"

  "There's something you should know. My father's been going through the security reports and questioned me about what you're doing and where you got money from."

  "So?" I asked, disinterested.

  "He might pay you a visit."

  "Perfect! There's a lot about parenting that I mean to teach the guy." I popped my fingers, already imagining all the insults I should throw at him.

  She shook her head and sighed as she left. I looked up at the sky, standing in the dimming light, frowning as the possibility of losing the tower gained weight with the news.