I look down at my choice of The Twelve Requiems of Illusion, tracing the cover with my finger. It is a thin book, maybe a hundred pages, but the leather bound cover shows its age, despite how well it has been kept by the library.

  With gentle movements, I open it, reading the first few lines.

  Cultivation is the art of learning the unfathomable and seeing the invisible.

  What is shrouded in more mystery than the art of music? Music can make you cry, it can make you laugh, it can be a powerful force thrumming through your body, and it can haunt your every thought. This manual will show you how to produce more than feelings. Music will let you show people their greatest desires, their greatest fears. Or you can simply show them a story, as music was created to do.

  The Twelve Requiems of Illusion will take strength to learn, but its words will teach you things you have yet to imagine.

  I close the manual, a grin on my face.

  I look over to see Xia Jing is still caught up in her search. Holding my new book close to my chest, I walk over to Sister Lai.

  I tap her on the shoulder, distracting her from the book she’d been reading.

  “Done already?” She asks.

  I nod, then look at the rest of the library. “Can I explore?”

  She smiles. “Go. Just don’t harm the books in any way, don’t even fold a page. If you do, the librarian will have you dusting shelves and scrubbing floors for the next year.” she looks to the side, making me wonder if she’d faced that very punishment. “Any one of these books could be a priceless treasure.”

  I take heed of the warning, but my excitement takes over and I lose myself in the shelves. I find books on topics from martial arts, to medicine, to philosophy.

  My father had thought of making me a scholar because of my love of books. My mother had insisted I learn the ways of a noble house. Some days, I wish my mother hadn’t insisted so hard, after all, there are so many worlds waiting to be found in books.

  In the end, neither of their plans had worked. I’ve started my path to cultivation. A long and perilous journey, or so everyone tells me.

  I wander through the shelves, enjoying the simple atmosphere of the library. If a book calls to me, I pull it out and start it.

  I’m not sure how long I wander before I find myself in a small corner of the library, reading a children's book. It tells the story of a man who had made a study of Great Spirits, creatures or animals having cultivated their way into the intelligence of humans.

  I sit cross legged, turning the pages slowly as I enjoy the illustrations the author had included of the creatures he had met on his journey.

  “Hello there.” A woman’s voice calls down to me.

  I look up from my book at her.

  Three books are stacked on her head, unmoving despite the angle of her head as she looks down at me. I turn my gaze away from the books, noticing her light brown hair and eyes. She gives me a soft smile.

  “Hello.”

  “You are one of the new inner disciples, yes?” She asks. She kneels down to meet my eyes, the folds of her plain brown dress lightly wrinkling. The books on her head stay perfectly balanced.

  “Y-yes.” I answer.

  “I believe your friends are looking for you.” The woman says.

  I pull myself up at her words and look around for The Twelve Requiems Of Illusion, my brain still moving out of the fog it enters when I read for a long time. I find the manual without issue and tuck it into my robes. I find the children’s book, close it with care, then put it back in the spot I had found it.

  I turn back to the woman who had found me and bow to her. “Thank you for telling me.” I say, “If I may know Elder Sister’s name?”

  She chuckles, “My name is Qiu Tai. May I know my Junior Sister’s name?”

  “My name is Lin Jia. Thank you again.” I turn around to hurry towards where I last saw the other girls.

  “Ah, one moment.” Elder Sister Qiu says.

  I pause, turning to look at her.

  “I can see your love for books. If you would like to spend more time here, ask for me at the front desk tomorrow.”

  I brighten at her words. I bow to Qiu Tai again. “Thank you! Again!”

  She smiles wordlessly as I turn away and hurry to find my fellow disciples.

  Xia Jing had found her book and was hiding it with her sleeve. Their conversation stops as I turn the corner, both of them turning to me.

  “Did you enjoy your time in the shelves?” Sister Lai asks.

  I nod enthusiastically.

  Sister Xia grabs me and squeezes me before I can move away. “Aww. You’re too cute.” She lets me go and I have to turn away to hide my embarrassment. “Are you ready to go?”

  “Yes, Sister Xia.”

  “What manuals did you choose?” Sister Lai asks as we move towards the exit of the library.

  I open my mouth to respond, but Sister Xia puts a hand on my shoulder to stop me, then bows to Lai Ming “Forgive me, Senior Sister Lai, we are both grateful for your help, but it would be naive for us to tell you something so valuable so soon after we met.”

  Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

  Sister Lai smiles and nods towards the still bowing Xia Jing. “I take no offense, you are right to be careful. I simply wished to give you guidance as a senior. I hope you do not read too much into my words.”

  Xia Jing rises from her bow. “Thank you.” She says, motioning for Sister Lai to continue walking.

  I hadn’t thought of that, but I’m glad Sister Xia stepped in before I could say something.

  The three of us walk in silence, the sounds of the sect growing louder. The streams nearby provide a constant bubbling, and outer disciples walk past us with quiet conversations.

  I look between the two girls, the silence wearing down on me. “What is it like? Being an inner disciple?” I ask.

  Both of them turn to me.

  “I-I mean, what are our responsibilities? What do we do as inner disciples?” I pull on the edges of my robe, “None of this was actually explained to me.”

  Xia Jing laughs, while Sister Lai looks at me with puzzlement.

  Sister Lai’s expression softens, “You are still young, aren’t you?”

  “I’m not a kid. I am twelve years old.” I respond.

  “I did not mean any offense Junior Sister.” Lai Ming pauses in thought, causing the outer sect disciples to walk around us, like a rock in a stream. “As an inner disciple, you are expected to be... well, better. You receive the personal instruction and guidance of the Elders, and you are given the resources of the sect.” She steps forward. “Keep yourself to a high standard, and remember you are a representative of the sect. You don’t need to worry about anything else.”

  “For now?” Xia Jing asks.

  Sister Lai nods, looking up at the sky with a thoughtful gaze, “As your cultivation grows, so do the expectations of the sect. Inner disciples are mediators, leaders, and ambassadors for the sect.” We arrive at the building with our rooms, but Sister Lai doesn’t seem to notice. Her gaze is sharp, but it isn’t directed at us. “We are pawns really.” She looks at the both of us, “But... pawns have their own importance, and someday they may become queens or leave the chessboard altogether.” She shakes her head and smiles at the both of us. “Don’t think too hard on it. For now, simply try your best to improve. No one can ask anything more of you.”

  With that said, she nods to the both of us “I have some things to think on. I’ll see both of you again soon.” Then she walks off to her room.

  I look at Xia Jing sideways. She looks at the closed door, lost in her own thoughts.

  “What a strange friend you have, Sister Xia.” I say, startling her from her thoughts.

  “Hm?” Her eyes focus in on me. “I’m not certain she is a friend….” She smiles at me, “But she certainly is strange.”

  I shrug, leaving the conversation at that. Taking out the bag the librarian at the front desk had given me, I study it. “What do you think is in here Sister Xia?.”

  “Low grade spirit stones probably.” Sister Xia responds. She reaches into her pocket to touch her own bag.

  “Cultivator money?” I ask.

  Xia Jing pats me on the head, giggling “Spirit stones are more than money. They hold tiny amounts of qi in them.”

  My eyes go wide, a small “Oh.” escaping my mouth.

  “Exactly. I doubt the outer disciples ever see more than a few of these at a time.” She says, taking out one of the crystals from her pocket, it glows with a soft green color. She looks at me with a frown, “Don’t keep these on you and make sure to keep them safe.” Her eyes hold in a serious gaze. “Don’t tell anyone where you keep them, not even me. You understand?”

  I nod.

  “Good. And use them wisely. You only get four a week.” She pats my head again. “I am going to my room to cultivate, I suggest you do the same.”

  I bow to her, “Thank you Sister Xia. I’m glad I have a friend like you.”

  She pulls me into a hug. “You’re too cute!”

  I sigh, but can’t stop a small smile.

  She lets me go and walks to her room.

  I slide open the door to my room and walk in, closing it behind me. I take the cultivation manual out from a pocket in my robes and look it over.

  I open the book, and am immediately caught by the words written inside.

  By the time I finish reading, the sun is already disappearing in the sky.

  A servant taps on my door before entering.

  She bows to me, then lights a lantern in my room. She bows to me again as she leaves.

  I open the book to one of the first pages in the book. Musical notes cover the page.

  The First Requiem: Field of Blood.

  I reach into my robe and pull out my flute. I slowly unwrap the flute, placing the cloth that had wrapped it on my bed.

  I put the flute to my lips, closing my eyes. The notes on the page stay fresh in my mind, as if I could still see them.

  I breathe.

  The song is deep and dark.

  A remembrance of the dead, that is a Requiem.

  As I play, the sounds of battle come from all around me, the screams of men as they die, the screech of metal against metal. A single man yells out, defiant, refusing to die. His blade enters flesh, taking the life of another. His defiant yell turns to a sorrow filled one as yet another blade takes his life.

  I open my eyes, my fingers moving to the next notes with care. I look over a bloody battlefield, only two swords still clashing against each other.

  Tears fall down my face, as my fingers slow down, almost stopping the song. But something pulls me to finish and I know.

  I know I cannot end it here.

  The smell of blood hits my nose as I play a long dark note.

  I no longer see the book, but the song is imprinted in my mind.

  The two swords refuse to stop, a deadly dance between powerful men, their comrades dead around them.

  I feel a sense of foreboding as the song comes closer to its end, the dance moving faster, becoming deadlier, following the beat of my song.

  The last note plays out as both of the men stab each other, blood spraying out around them.

  No one lives through this battle.

  The last note ends.

  The scenery disappears. I find myself back in my room, the soft lantern light illuminating my bed and a small table.

  I place my flute in my lap and cry.

  Why? Why was I forced to watch such brutality? Why did I have to see the lives of men end in such a way? How could one man do that to another?

  My heart aches.

  I look down at the cultivation manual, tears blurring my vision.

  Nothing could have prepared me for what I witnessed.

  I throw the book onto the bed, and stare up at the ceiling. My heart thunders in my chest and my breath comes in short bursts. My hand holds my flute in a death grip, refusing to let it go.

  I hate it!

  I hate watching people die, and I hate that there’s nothing I can do.

  I close my eyes, and take deep breaths, calming myself. My heartbeat slows and I reopen my eyes. A large part of me wants to return the book to the library and take one of the others, maybe then I could find peace.

  But what would I do when I next encounter death? When I watch people I know die? The world is not a peaceful place, and cultivators even less so. My gaze moves to the book on my bed, and I carefully pick it up.

  I open it, looking at the next requiem.

  The Second Requiem: Remembrance

  Maybe… maybe there is peace to be found here. I don’t want my heart to explode every time I see death. Something tells me that despite my hesitance, there are answers in this book, a way towards peace.

  Taking a deep breath, I bring my flute back up to my lips.

  My fingers don’t want to move, and my eyes stay frozen on the first note of the page. I blink a bunch to clear my vision, then steel my heart.

  I take one more deep breath, and I play the first note.