Captured

The ship descended faster and faster and faster. Wind tried to run but he was too late, it landed right next to his house the tip of the ship touching the front door of his. He tried to back off into the forest but before he could the door of the ship opened up.

Out stepped a giant. Three meters tall, with lanky arms and thin shoulders, he gave the impression of a sickly God. Surrounding him on all sides were several shorter men but they were much more well proportioned in their muscles.

"Wind, isn't it?" The tall man said.

Wind couldn't move, he was petrified, something was holding him down.

"Yes?" Wind said his voice stuttering.

"Well my name is Traj Kal Khan, of the Khan dynasty, and I need you to come with me." The tall man said. Wind backed up against a tree, a small stick jammed itself into his side. The man's voice was hypnotic, it was intoxicating.

Wind stared more and more into his eyes, getting sleepier, and sleepier, and sleepier. Until he couldn't keep himself awake any longer.

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He awoke in a cell. It was completely dark inside except for the sliver of light coming from a moon. Wind looked outside, there seemed to be one moon to many. He had never seen these moons before, they were deep and red nothing like the moon on the colony planet.

This could mean only one thing, he wasn't on the colony planet anymore. After that revelation he took his time to look at the surroundings. It was hard to see because of the light but it seemed like he was in a metal box, complete with two tattered beds, a dirty basin for water and a slit for food he assumed.

The only thing he couldn't figure out is why he had two beds. Wind tried to sleep on the less destroyed of the beds, but he couldn't. Why was he all of a sudden abducted? Why did this all-powerful Khan, a prince of the Khanate decide to land on a planet just for him? It seemed absurd.

His sleep was full of dreams. Monsters made out of paint, monsters made out of flesh and monsters made out of soul haunted him. He awoke with a start as a blood red light started to fill the room he was in.

He blinked once, again, once more. The blurriness of sleep faded and with it, appeared an old man.

He dingy with yellowing skin and spots of aging. Contrary to his appearance he wore an emerald dress. He sat cross-legged on the bed adjacent to Wind.

"Who are you? And how did you get in this room?" Wind asked. The old man smiled and continued meditating.

"I said who are you? Where am I? Is this the Khanate's homeworld? What am I doing here?" He said, almost shouted at the man. He just wanted to go back to his little house. Maybe he should've never started live-streaming.

The old man opened his mouth and said.

"To paint is to express the soul. You understand this, but what you most lack isn't necessarily technique. Though you do lack that as well, it is energy. Do you understand the Great Way?" Wind looked at the man, he hadn't heard the phrase the Great Way in a while. One night in one of his father's rages he had mentioned it but as soon as his father mentioned it he quieted down.

How could this man use such a phrase so, casually?

"Who are you? What is the Great Way." Wind shifted his feet, he felt a little awkward to still be laying down on his bed while this man sat up.

"The Great Way, just like me, is better with age. You don't need to know it." This old man was infuriating, he seemed to speak in riddles.

<Skill created: Philosophy>

<+20 Philosophy XP>

Wind was snapped back to reality. He was still captured and now he was being distracted wasting his time with this man. He had to find a way out of this chamber.

It wasn't a cell like he first thought, there was a door in it but when Wind tried to open it, it seemed to repel him. Second, he checked all the nooks and crannies in the room but still no sign of a way out. The old man on the bed seemed not to want to give him anything either.

"Ok what do you want?" Wind asked, not expecting an answer.

"You, baby." The old man said laughing, this whole prison situation seemed to be a gigantic joke to him. Wind just sat on the bed and looked at the old man.

"Are you like a painter God? Do people want me to paint? I was stolen from my home, from my life to paint." Wind hoped that wasn't true. On this, the old man started to cackle as if Wind had said the funniest joke in the world.

"Well that's why I'm here and to teach your sorry ass the basics. You haven't even started to cultivate and yet you want to be a painter? What made you choose this sorry excuse for a profession." This old man seemed to be very knowledgeable on painting but Wind still had no idea why he was here.

"Why would I need to know about this cultivation to be a good painter." Something appeared in the old man's eyes, something not normal. Wind didn't know what it was but he didn't trust it.

"Well if you don't start then as soon as you leave this room you're going to die, so now do you want to learn."