Chapter Nine - I temper the fire and ruin the herbs

He awoke to the sounds of wind chimes. Ah that was right, when he had begun to carve talismans the other night in a panic, he had also created a set of wind chimes and had set a few talismans as clappers; protection, tranquility, and harmony. He knew it didn't mean much, but hearing them now set his mind in the right frame for this day. This day, he was going to attempt to control fire with his spirit energy.

It was a slightly blustery morning, but not so much that it would affect the sunken fire pit too much. He poked a stick into the ash remnants of the previous day and dug out a tuber he had set to cook in the embers. It was cold, naturally, but containing soft and tender flavour. After breaking his fast, he began to pile firewood into the pit with a small amount of tinder and rubbed two flints together until the sparks from the friction set the dry grass alight. Seeing the wood begin to steadily burn, he sat beside it and contemplated on what he should do next.

The book had mentioned setting his spirit forth, but that didn't help too much. He could only assume that if the writer could not explain it in words, then it must not be something that can be explained using words. That usually meant, he felt, that there was instinct or feelings involved. In truth, since he had first cultivated the day prior, he could feel the small warm spot above his navel still, even without using his mind's eye. He focused on it now. As he was not cultivating, it swirled about lazily, so he stirred it up a little, though did not send it towards his meridians. The light spiralled in greater and greater circles until the edge became misty and more fluid.

Like a conductor sweeping his fingers to instruct his orchestra, he motioned and the mist seemed to follow. He directed it towards the fire and began to experiment for a while. Aiming the stream towards the heart of the fire inflamed it. The flames burned brighter and hotter and more wild. Swirling it about the fire gave him more control, but the flames slowly began to die away.

His breathing became heavy for a moment as he realised using his spirit energy was actually taxing. The former him must have had much greater spirit and endurance than the current feeble him! Letting go of control, the spirit energy within him snapped back into place and slowed until it regained its lazy pace, while the energy outside of him dispersed into the air. The inner pool was slightly smaller, so he took a deep breath and cultivated for a while until it regained some of its former vigour. He wondered if he should have not guided the outer energy back into his body rather than releasing and losing it?

After eating a little fruit, he added wood to his fire and placed his cauldron above it and herbs beside it. He reread the instructions within the book once more, ignoring the confusing side notes for the moment, then began to add the measured leaves and roots. He tempered his energies in order to control the fire, choosing to maintain a steady heat for the time being and then he watched the herbs begin to melt. Melt? He did not expect to see them begin to form liquid at the base of the cauldron! He felt excited by the notion.

Unfortunately said excitement gave his spirit an injection of chicken blood and for a moment he could not control it. A moment was all it took. The roots sizzled and sparked as they soaked the liquidised leaves into themselves and the whole mess turned to black slag. Using folded rags to remove the heated cauldron, he placed it to one side before inspecting the mess. Wah! He'd wasted the herbs, they were of no use now! And worse, he had forgotten his former thoughts about recapturing flowing spirit energy and already it had dispersed into the air.

With a sigh, Leon began to clean his cauldron, ready to begin again.