As Lionel skipped out the door, he yelled over his shoulder, “Bye Mom! See you tonight!”

  He faintly could hear a, “Bye sweetie—” being yelled out in response, but he had already activated his movement art and was halfway down the block before he could catch anything else. As always on Wednesday, Lionel was planning on walking to school with his best friend, Jeff.

  Since starting their junior year, their schedules had gotten much more hectic. Their previous ritual of walking together to school every day had been restricted to only a single day each week. And as much as Lionel loved taking his sweet time enjoying the cool morning on a slow stroll to school, he loved hanging out with his friend more.

  Even with Lionel using his movement art, Jeff was waiting for him at the corner, tapping his foot. “About time you got here!” Jeff complained. “With how fast you are, you’d think you’d be on time a little bit more often…”

  “Hey, I just like to savor the things that are truly important. Sleep, breakfast, stuff like that. Being on time? What’s fun about that?”

  Both boys laughed and bumped knuckles before walking side by side to campus.

  “Yeah, sleep and food. Only the finest things in life for the world’s biggest glutton.”

  “Hey! I’m not fat!”

  “I called you a glutton. You don’t have to be fat to be a glutton. Although, now that you mention it…”

  They laughed again, and Lionel punched Jeff on the arm.

  “Hey, watch yourself!” Jeff exclaimed, rubbing his arm. “Now that you’re in the eighth tier, you have to be gentle with us sixers.”

  Lionel winced. The week prior he had ascended to the eighth cultivation tier of the first step — normally an incredible accomplishment for a student his age. But Lionel couldn’t help but feel that as he progressed further in his cultivation, he was leaving the things he truly cared about behind.

  “So I managed to book time with Professor Jennings after school today. I didn’t even have to spend any of my points for it either! Apparently he was impressed enough with my last project, he agreed to three private lessons after school in trade for me grading papers for him over lunch break the next three Wednesdays,” Jeff continued, oblivious to Lionel’s internal thoughts. “I think the peewee classes are getting to testing time, and he’s feeling a bit overwhelmed with how many of them there are this year.”

  “Aww, c’mon Jeff!” Lionel replied. “Today’s Wednesday! We were gonna hit up that new movie about the spider guy. It’s supposed to be so good.”

  Jeff shifted uncomfortably. “I know, but...we can do that anytime, ya know? I’ve got to focus on my cultivation. You know how much help one-on-one time with a prof can be, right?”

  Lionel grunted noncommittally.

  “And besides,” Jeff continued. “I’ve only got two months to get up to the seventh tier or else we’ll hardly have any classes together next year. And fat chance of getting into any sort of academy if I don’t.”

  Lionel nodded. “Yeah, I know man...it just feels like we barely get to hang out anymore.”

  “Yeah. Well, once I get to the seventh tier, we’ll have all the time in the world to watch movies.”

  Lionel tried to muster a smile, but struggled. He knew how cutthroat the cultivator’s climb could be. At a certain level, resting meant getting left behind.

  Well, at least that’s how it usually would be.

  “And besides,” Jeff punched Lionel back on the shoulder. “If someone didn’t keep showing up late, we’d have enough time to watch the full movie before walking to school.”

  Lionel laughed, and they continued their walk. Lionel savored every fleeting minute of it.

  Lionel sat in class, trying to stay awake. The class was “Principles of Advancement”, focused on how to advance out of the first step. Advancing from tier nine of the first step to the first tier of the second step was a qualitatively different change compared to the normal methods of advancement across tiers of the same level. Because of this, only those at the eighth and ninth tiers were allowed into the class.

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  “...the energy from the heavens will be collected into your bodies naturally. But this natural energy is formless, loose, and uncompressed. It is up to the cultivator…”

  Professor Thames droned on as Lionel’s head bobbed. The scratching pencils of the other students taking notes and the buzzing of a fly by the window were the only other noises in the classroom.

  “...the compressed energy will build up pressure, which, when high enough, can be used to push through clogged meridians. This is why extreme duress is an alternative method to provide the necessary pressure…”

  Lionel wasn’t even sure why he was trying to stay awake. It’s not like there would be a test on any of this stuff anyway. Cultivation classes were all about results — knowledge of the material meant nothing if you were still first tier.

  But no. If the teacher was willing to put in the time and effort to prepare and give this lesson, he should at least be respectful enough to not snore through it. Besides, Lionel didn’t think he could endure the lecture from his mom if she got another call from the school. He sat up a little straighter in his seat.

  “...post breakthrough, solidifying the newly cleared meridians is the most important requirement to ensure your foundation for the next step is…”

  Although simply not falling asleep was completely different from actually paying attention. Lionel stared up at the ceiling and started to count the tiles patterned above his head. He had been moved into this new classroom just a week earlier upon his ascension to the eighth tier, and he hadn’t yet had a chance to map out every single detail in this room like he had in every other classroom.

  He was sitting in the only occupied chair in the back row of desks — the only seats open when he was moved into this class. Every other student was intently focused on the lecture, and there was a constant competition for the front row of desks each morning. Any student in the eighth or ninth tier before graduating from high school would be guaranteed admittance to most cultivation academies. And if a student could make it to the second step while still in high school? Then they might qualify for the prestigious royal academy, a place for only the best and brightest.

  “...a solid comprehension of the current density of your qi will help you to determine which meridian to target when attempting…”

  Lionel wasn’t even sure why he tried to act like he was paying attention in this class, anyway. Since he started talking thirty minutes ago, Professor Thames had yet to turn back to face the class, instead choosing to talk into the whiteboard as he sketched complicated diagrams that mapped the flow of energy within the human body. It wasn’t like he would notice if Lionel’s eyes were closed.

  “...in any case, the final meridian to clear is always the meridian of the mind. Upon clearing this meridian, you will…”

  Knock, knock.

  The two gentle knocks on the door brought an immediate stop to Professor Thames’ lecture, and Lionel sat up as he put his comprehensive analysis of the tree outside the window on pause. What could cause this interruption? Any school-wide announcements would be made via speaker system. Did a student recently ascend to the eighth tier?

  For a moment, hope surged in Lionel’s chest, as he imagined Jeff joining him in the class. But no, Jeff was still weeks, at minimum, away from the seventh tier. And it took months, sometimes even years, to advance to the eighth tier from the seventh.

  As Professor Thames opened the door, the interruption was revealed. A girl.

  The first thing Lionel noticed about her was her hair. Pure white, it hung loose down to her waist, and as she took the few steps forward to hand Professor Thames the note in her hand it fanned out behind her in a wave. She was short, probably eight or nine inches shorter than Lionel’s six feet, and wore the standard school dress uniform with a backpack slung over her shoulders. How did her hair get behind her backpack while still looking so neat? Did she adjust her hair to sit on the outside of her backpack every time she put it on, simply so it would fan out like that?

  Some whispering built up among the students as she walked in.

  “Is she another advancement from the lower class?” Lionel faintly heard a student a few rows up muttering.

  Of course she wasn’t, but Lionel didn’t feel any need to share that. The school was fairly large, over a thousand students, but Lionel would have been able to recognize her if she was in his age level. And she definitely wasn’t from the age level above his. For the last few years many of Lionel’s classes had been with the older age group, the group set to graduate in two months. He would have been able to recognize such a distinctive member from any of his classes.

  Professor Thames finished reading the note and held up his hands, palms forward. Silence fell almost instantly, but he waited a few seconds longer before he began speaking.

  “Everyone, this is a new transfer student. Her name is Elise Jones. She is currently at the ninth tier of cultivation on the first step. Please welcome her and give her all the respect she is due. Please, Elise, have a seat.”

  Professor Thames gestured to the open seats in the back row, next to Lionel. The whispering started back up again upon Professor Thames mentioning her cultivation level — there were only three other ninth tier students in the whole school — but quickly was silenced as Professor Thames turned back to the board and continued his lecture as if nothing had happened. In an instant, the only sound was his voice and the scratching of pencils.

  Elise didn’t make any noise as she sat in the open chair to Lionel’s left. Lionel curiously watched as she set her backpack down next to the desk. He expected her to pull out a notebook and pencil from her backpack, maybe even a reference textbook, but was surprised to see her backpack stay zipped shut. She situated herself, white hair fanned out behind the back of her chair, and stared up at the board.

  Lioned considered introducing himself, maybe even just a whispered wave and hello. But after thirty seconds, she was still staring intently at the board, not having glanced at him even once. He didn’t think she had even blinked since walking into the classroom.

  Little bit creepy, Lionel thought. Oh well — one more classmate among the thirty already in the classroom. He resumed his thorough analysis of the tree outside the window, ready for class to be over.