As they were returning to Suna, sitting on a platform of sand conjured by Lin Feng, Pakura inquired about the nature of their bond and his realizations about it.

Deciding to try something out, he asked her to stop garrisoning her mind and split up a stream from his River of Memories and channeled it to her through the bond.

Suddenly, her world changed.

...

Shivering, I stopped to rest halfway up the mountain. The chilly breeze cut into my exposed flesh like razors despite my best attempts to bundle myself up in the warmest clothes I could find.

Ducking into an abandoned cavern by the roadside, I sank down against a wall that shielded me from the assault of the wind, grateful to its previous occupant for deciding that a change of scenery was in order.

Gingerly peeling off my woollen face mask, I winced as it came away with an infernal mixture of solidified snot, clotted blood and nasal hairs. It seemed that I’d be doing my breathing through my mouth for a bit longer.

The Kunlun Mountain was the highest mountain on the most elevated plateau of the entire plane. It was labelled by some as the Roof of the World. Obviously, this elevation wasn’t agreeing with my frail physique.

As a twenty-six-year-old peak-stage Attuning to the Heavens realm cultivator, I was miles ahead of the curve.

That, however, didn’t stop me from being just as frail as the next human in the face of the elements. A situation that would only be remedied when I made a breakthrough to the Communing with the Heavens realm and condensed a perpetual flow of world vitality around my body.

I took off my mitts, exposing my wind burnt hands and fumbled around in my pack for the canteen and the paper-wrapped stick of butter. Unwrapping it, I rubbed it all over my peeling hands and kneaded some of it into my face and chapped lips while rehydrating myself with the last of the canteen’s contents.

Having all my acupoints unblocked did allow for an accelerated healing rate, enhanced stamina and shorter recovery times. Thus, such simple ministrations were enough to tide me through.

As the prickling from my exposed skin subsided, I went about the onerous task of setting up camp.

I collected some snow in the canteen and hung it over a roughly drawn runic array that would convert world vitality into heat.

The entrance to the cavern was pretty narrow and shielded from the wind. So, all I had to do was set up some runic alarms to warn me if any of the local wildlife had the same taste in shelters as I did.

The water had come to a boil by the time I had my sleeping bag and illumination runes set up. Putting the jerky, a dollop of butter and the herbs I had collected on the way in my bowl, I topped it off with the boiling water before refilling the canteen with snow, this time for potable water.

The heating array made the cavern quite cosy and I stripped to my undergarments, laying out my sweaty parka at the entrance so that the cold would freeze my sweat and I could scrape it off in the morning before setting out.

Filling myself with the impromptu stew and licking the bowl clean, I placed it by the parka. In this icy hell, at least doing the dishes was a simple matter.

Easing myself into the sleeping bag, I felt the exhaustion of the day catching up with me.

My mind drifted to memories of my childhood.

I was the only heir to a mercantile group subordinate to one of the five Grand tier Sects: The Grand Architectural Sect.

As such, I was born with a golden spoon in my mouth… rather, a golden ticket to the disciple selection of the Sect.

I had always been laid-back as a child, seeing that I could attain success one way or the other. Either I passed the discipleship examination and entered the cultivation world or I failed and inherited my family’s business.

So, as I stood in line with the rest of the eight-year olds of my township, I was quite conspicuous as one of the few who weren’t little bundles of nervousness.

They had us hold a shiny crystal and see if we could get it to glow. Only later were we told that the crystal was a spirit stone inscribed with a light rune. The higher our affinity, the brighter it would glow. In my hand, it shone like a small sun.

It took a hectic few days of tearful farewells before I was carted off to the Sect alongside the rest of the brats who had made the cut.

Once there, the Sect Master immediately took me under his wing as his eighteenth and final disciple.

I had always been a curious child, pestering my attendants with precocious questions about the workings of the world. As such, I revelled in the academic atmosphere of the sect.

The Library was my favourite haunt. The scent of drying ink and fresh parchment drawing me towards it like a bear to honey… What? Physical exertion was anathema to me… I might have been a bit on the chubby side.

Runes opened a new world to me. The lure of altering the world with the stroke of my pen was intoxicating.

I spent my days being tutored in mathematics, science, language, history, geography, politics and economics in the mornings along with others my age while my afternoons were free so I could pursue the branch of cultivation I wanted to major in, be it combat, runecraft, alchemy or any of the other myriad options. The evenings were for contemplation and soul cultivation. There were regular breaks every three months so I could visit my family.

It was a substantial routine, one which kept me occupied till my twelfth birthday when the Sect master personally took a hand in my education.

It was my first exposure to three-dimensional arrays and architecture. It was love at first sight. It is said that relationships have stages. Mine with the signature techniques of our sect has remained stuck in the honeymoon phase till this day.

My phenomenal affinity with world vitality and all things architecture meant that my status rose from the Sect Master’s closing disciple to the decided but not announced successor. It was then that I had my first run in with the High Monks of Kunlun.