Dreams, Holy Fire, and a Trail

Boom!

The memory fruit representing Swordsmanship Mastery burst open, and a colorful torrent of memories slammed into Xia Lun like juice spraying from the fruit.

In an instant, Xia Lun's vision narrowed to a pinpoint. The flickering phantoms of fruit around him vanished, and black shadows surged like wild grass in a gale. Then they withered, broke apart, and reassembled into a long flight of mountain steps rising toward the sky.

The Swordsmanship Specialization scene changed? Xia Lun frowned slightly, then looked up at the steps winding through the mountain.

Gone were the ink-black river, the endless drizzle, and the swordsmanship instructor who stood as tall as he did. In their place were silhouettes of black bamboo, a gloomy gray sky, and white steps climbing a white mountainside.

Bamboo rose on either side of a broad mountain path. Beyond the swaying stalks and shoots, the path led straight to the summit, where a cluster of ornate pavilions and halls could be glimpsed through the clouds.

Xia Lun held out his hands and looked down at himself. To his astonishment, his body had shrunk. He seemed to have become a child, weak and powerless.

In the dozens of times he had entered the dream before, he had always retained his usual build and strength. This time, with the sudden change of scenery, his body had grown frail as well.

Have I become a young White Line? he wondered. Am I supposed to head for the summit now?

After a moment's thought, he picked up an ink-black bamboo pole and strode onto the stone path, climbing toward the summit.

As he walked, a light black rain began to fall again. Round droplets gathered on the bamboo leaves before falling from their drooping tips onto him, chilling him to the skin.

Xia Lun