Cultivation is Creation

"Ah, we've arrived," Lady Laelyn said, peering through the small window. "Look, Tomas, Crossroads Inn. One of the oldest establishments in this region."

I joined her at the window, genuinely curious.

The inn was larger than I'd expected. A sprawling two-story structure built of weathered stone and dark timber. Multiple chimneys protruded from its slate roof, thin wisps of smoke suggesting active hearths within.

A stable and several outbuildings stretched behind the main structure, while a paved courtyard fronted the establishment. Several other wagons and mounted travelers were already present, servants and stable hands moving among them.

"It's huge," I whispered.

Through Tomas's memories, I knew he'd never seen a building this large before.

"It sits at the junction of three major trade routes," Lady Laelyn explained. "Merchants, pilgrims, and nobles all pass through here. The inn has expanded over centuries to accommodate the traffic."

The wagon rolled to a stop in the courtyard.

Almost immediately, attendants appeared to assist with the horses and luggage. The transformation in Lady Laelyn was subtle but unmistakable, her posture straightened, her expression became more reserved, and her voice took on a slightly more formal cadence as she issued instructions.

"Tomas," she called, turning to me. "Would you help with the horses? We'll be staying the night."

"Of course," I agreed readily, recognizing the opportunity to blend in with the ordinary activities of the caravan.

I climbed down from the wagon, joining the bustling activity in the courtyard. Though I personally had never handled horses in my previous life, Tomas's body possessed the muscle memory from years of working with the village's few farm animals. I allowed these instincts to guide me, unhitching the team and leading them toward the water trough.

"You've got a gentle hand with them," observed a stable hand, a middle-aged man with graying hair tied back in a simple knot. "These beasts are high-strung after a journey."

I shrugged. "They've had a difficult day. Raiders on the road."

The man's eyes widened slightly. "Raiders? This close to Hyelin? Troubling times."

"We handled it," I said simply, not wanting to elaborate on the Lightweaver attack.

The stable hand nodded, accepting my reticence. "Well, I'll take over here. The mistress is calling for you."

I turned to see Lady Laelyn standing at the inn's entrance, gesturing for me to join her. Handing the horses' reins to the stable hand, I made my way across the courtyard.

The inn's interior was as impressive as its exterior. A large common room dominated by a massive stone hearth, around which travelers of various stations gathered. Servers moved between tables, carrying trays laden with food and drink. A staircase along one wall led to upper floors, presumably where the sleeping quarters were located.

Lady Laelyn was speaking with a well-dressed man who I assumed to be the innkeeper. As I approached, I caught fragments of their conversation, arrangements for rooms, meals, and privacy.

"Ah, here he is," she said as I reached them. "Innkeeper Horace, this is Tomas. He'll be joining our party for the night."

The innkeeper, a portly man with a meticulously groomed beard, bowed slightly. "Very good, my lady. We have prepared rooms as requested."

"Thank you." She turned to me. "I've arranged accommodations for you, Tomas. A private room, modest, but comfortable."

"That's extremely generous," I protested. "But unnecessary. I'd be content with a place in the common sleeping area."

"I insist," she said firmly. "After your service today, it's the least we can offer."

The innkeeper cleared his throat. "If I might show you to your rooms? The evening meal will be served in the private dining chamber within the hour."

"Thank you, Horace," Lady Laelyn said with a gracious nod. "Please, lead the way."

We followed the innkeeper up the staircase and down a wide corridor lined with doors. The upper floor was quieter than the bustling common room below, the thick walls muffling the sounds of revelry. Horace stopped before one door, producing a key which he handed to Lady Laelyn.

"Your usual suite, my lady," he said with another bow. "And for the young man..." He moved several doors down the corridor. "This chamber should be suitable."

He unlocked the door, revealing a small but well-appointed room.

A single bed with clean linens occupied one corner, while a wooden chest and washing stand filled another. A narrow window overlooked the courtyard, providing natural light that complemented the oil lamp hanging from a ceiling beam.

"This is... far too fine," I said, genuinely surprised by the quality. I was used to staying in simpler accommodations during training journeys.

"Nonsense," Lady Laelyn dismissed my protest with a wave. "You'll find fresh clothing in the chest, nothing elaborate, but clean and whole. The bathhouse is in the eastern wing if you wish to refresh yourself before dinner."

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Before I could object further, she pressed the room key into my hand. "Rest. You've earned it. Join us for the evening meal when you're ready."

With that, she and the innkeeper departed, leaving me alone in unexpected luxury.

I closed the door, leaning against it with a sigh of relief.

For the first time since the village attack, I had true privacy, a rare and valuable commodity for planning.

"Well, that went rather smoothly," Azure's voice commented dryly. "Better accommodations than we anticipated."

I smiled, moving to examine the room more thoroughly. "Lucky, isn't it? Not only have we found someone traveling directly to the Blue Sun Academy, but she's taken a personal interest in our welfare."

"Luck had very little to do with it," Azure replied. "Your calculated intervention saved her life while maintaining your cover identity. A favorable outcome from a strategic decision."

"Still, becoming entangled with a Saintess candidate carries risks," I murmured, checking beneath the bed and in the corners despite Azure having already scanned the room for threats. "Her enemies become our problems by proximity."

"True, but her protection offers significant advantages. And her position could provide access to precisely the knowledge we seek."

I couldn't argue with that logic.

Opening the wooden chest, I found neatly folded clothing as Lady Laelyn had promised, simple but well-made trousers, shirts, and a warm cloak suitable for travel. Nothing elaborate enough to draw attention, but far better quality than Tomas's village garments.

"She's being remarkably generous," I observed, running my fingers over the fabric. "These aren't castoffs or servant's attire."

"The lady appears genuinely compassionate," Azure noted. "A quality you might cultivate to your advantage without exploitation."

I nodded, understanding his meaning.

Building authentic rapport with Lady Laelyn would serve our purposes better than calculated manipulation. And truthfully, I found myself somewhat drawn to her sincere desire to help others, it was a rare trait in those in positions of power.

"The bathhouse first, I think," I decided, gathering a change of clothes. "Then dinner with our benefactors."

The eastern wing of the inn housed a modest but well-maintained bathhouse, separate chambers for men and women, each equipped with large wooden tubs supplied with hot water from the kitchens.

By the time I arrived, most of the day's travelers had already completed their ablutions, leaving me with relative privacy.

Stripping off Tomas's dusty, blood-spattered clothes was a relief I hadn't anticipated. The events of the day, the village attack, the forest escape, the caravan battle, had left their marks not just in dirt and sweat but in a bone-deep weariness that seemed to seep from this mortal body.

As I sank into the steaming water, I couldn't help but compare the experience to cultivation baths. Those had been infused with spiritual herbs and essence-enhancing minerals, designed to open meridians and strengthen one's core.

This was simply hot water, yet somehow, the simplicity of it was profoundly satisfying.

After thoroughly cleaning away the day's grime, I dressed in the new clothes Lady Laelyn had provided. The fit wasn't perfect, slightly loose across the shoulders and long in the legs, but infinitely better than my previous attire.

Looking in the small polished metal mirror provided for guests, I hardly recognized myself.

Tomas's features stared back at me, a young face with dark hair falling across the forehead, brown eyes that held a hint of sadness even when smiling. But something had changed in the expression, a subtle shift that reflected my inhabitance of this body. There was a focus in the eyes, a certain set to the jaw that hadn't been there before.

"You look presentable," Azure commented. "Though perhaps a bit too... intense for a simple village boy who's just lost everything."

He was right.

I consciously softened my expression, allowing the shoulders to slump slightly, introducing a hesitancy to my stance. The transformation was subtle but effective, from confident observer to traumatized survivor in a matter of moments.

"Better," Azure approved. "Remember that trauma manifests physically. Occasional distraction, hesitation in response, flinching at sudden movements, these details reinforce your cover identity."

Gathering my old clothes to be washed or discarded, I made my way back to my room.

The inn was busier now, the corridors filled with the sound of guests preparing for the evening meal. Servants hurried past with fresh linens and pitchers of water, barely sparing me a glance.

Back in my room, I stored my few possessions and took a moment to center myself. The evening ahead would require continued careful navigation, maintaining my persona while gathering information and building trust with Lady Laelyn's party.

I was just smoothing the wrinkles from my new shirt when a soft knock sounded at the door.

My body tensed instinctively. Who would be visiting me at this hour? Lady Laelyn had mentioned dinner would be served soon; it was surely just a servant would be sent for that purpose.

"Azure," I whispered internally, "who's at the door?"

I could sense Azure's amusement. "Perhaps you should open it and find out, Master."

"That's not helpful," I muttered, eyeing the door suspiciously.

My mind spun through scenarios, each more concerning than the last.

Was this some delayed assassination attempt? Perhaps the assassins had tracked us to the inn and mistaken my room for Lady Laelyn's. I imagined opening the door to find a blade already in motion toward my throat.

Or worse, had Beric's suspicions solidified into certainty? Was a contingent of guards waiting to apprehend the mysterious village boy who asked too many questions? It wasn’t uncommon for a guardian to go behind their master’s back in an effort to ensure that someone wasn’t a threat.

"Your paranoia is quite entertaining," Azure remarked dryly. "Though I suppose caution is warranted given recent events."

Another gentle knock, slightly more insistent this time.

I approached silently, positioning myself to the side of the door rather than directly in front of it, ready to draw spiritual essence if needed.

"Who is it?" I called, keeping my voice steady.

"It's Laelyn," came the soft reply.

I relaxed slightly, though not completely.

After all, voices could be imitated, and Lady Laelyn herself might be under duress.

"One moment," I called, positioning myself to react if necessary.

I opened the door a cautious few inches, then wider as I confirmed it was indeed Lady Laelyn, alone and apparently unharmed.

She had clearly visited the bathhouse herself; her dark hair was still slightly damp, falling in gentle waves around her shoulders rather than in the practical style she'd worn during travel. She'd changed into a simple gown of pale blue that complemented her complexion perfectly, with subtle embroidery at the collar and cuffs that spoke of quality without ostentation.

The effect was... striking.

In her merchant's disguise, she had been merely pretty.

Now, with the grime of travel washed away and attired as befitted her station, she was genuinely beautiful, a fact I noted with clinical detachment, or so I told myself.

"Oh, um... hello," she said, a hint of uncertainty in her voice that seemed at odds with her usual composure.

"Hello," I replied, equally awkward.

We stood in silence for a moment that stretched uncomfortably. I studied her expression, searching for clues to her purpose. Had she discovered something about me? Had my subtle use of qi been detected after all? Or did she suspect my origins based on some inconsistency in my story?

Perhaps most concerning, was she actually interested in Tomas as a person?

I dismissed that thought immediately.

A candidate for Saintess would hardly develop romantic feelings for a common villager she'd known for less than a day. Far more likely she harbored suspicions and was here to confirm them through conversation. A smarter tactic than having Beric interrogate me.

I suppressed a sigh.

It seemed I couldn't rest even here, the performance must continue.