Late the next morning, after doing his daily rounds, Chún trotted with anticipation into his workshop clearing and hopped into the drying pit, slowly looking around at the completed Essence imbued ceramic on the shelves.
The songs of birds, the hum of insects, the chuckle of the creek and chatter of wildlife underscored the simple handcrafted forms of the simple pots, cups and bowls started two days ago. The more elaborate clay work he had made yesterday had dried overnight and the Mountain had put them into the kilns for firing already..
He sucked in a breath of moist air, heavily scented with the smells of the forest, water and rich soil, in surprise. Some of the ceramic was white - or at least a very pale brown - looking more like it had been painted and glazed, than the darker browns and earthy reds of handmade pottery that his original attempts had come out as.
"Mountain? Did you… make the pots look like this? This looks sort of like - Jina ceramic." Tentatively he reached out and put a hand on the nearest pot. It was definitely real, and he could see the marks of his hands and fingers from making the shape.
The Jina Empire exported a small amount of very expensive tableware that was prized and only affordable by the wealthy in the Lotus Empire. It was renowned for its white, smooth and even texture, so much so that it had basically come to symbolise the other Empire, with most just referring to that form of ceramic as 'Jina'. Most 'Jina' had some form of design painted and glazed into them - usually in blue or red.
He only knew that because the village mayor had once received a very small 'Jina' teacup from another official in return for some sort of favour and had ever since then made a point of drinking from it during village meetings.
The village children - and their parents - had asked the storyteller, who was known to be the most widely travelled what the odd translucent looking cup was and he had explained about the famous Jina that was made by a whole other Empire. That was the day that he had learnt that their village was on the edges of the Lotus Empire - on the other side from a whole other Empire.
His locus sent a negative feeling down the link. "No, this seemed to happen naturally with the Essence infused clay as the Fire Essence fired the clay into ceramic. The more even the distribution of the Essence and thinner the clay the better result. None of these is quite as good as Jina, but I expect some of the current firing will be - I was getting better at getting a more coherent result as I went on. And your new clay has a much higher level of Essence."
Chún picked up the pot that seemed the closest to Jina. He could still see streaks of ochre, blue and brown swirled through it, but the resemblance and texture was remarkable. He had of course never touched the Mayor's cup, but he recalled the Storyteller's explanation and this felt close to the description.
Looking closer at the surface of the pot, Chún could see finely etched patterns and designs of different colours that seemed just under the almost glazed surface of the pot. He blinked - the patterns seemed strangely familiar.
"How did you paint..."
"Did not. Those happened naturally. The better balanced the Essence was, the more the Dao patterns formed."
"Oh...wow, no wonder they look familiar… but they are kind of… odd looking?"
His locus laughed down the link. "If Dao patterns could be accurately represented in the material world, the Consumers would not be in the mess they are. At least this is three dimensional, imagine trying to express this on a flat scroll or bamboo sticks?"
Chún looked up to consider trying to express what he saw in his Essence Sense on paper. "Ah… I see what you mean - and they are not moving either." He looked back down at the pot in his hands and blinked, "Wait…"
Chún realised that in the moment his eyes had left the pot, when his gaze returned to it the patterns had shifted subtly. He wondered if he would have even noticed it if he had not become so familiar with Essence patterns recently.
"Yes, the patterns are still active. Some of the pieces more so than others, that one you are holding is one of the best ones - but I learnt a lot from that set. I am sure this new firing id going to be better."
The young teen sucked in a deep breath of forest air. "Still active, even after being turned into ceramic… does that mean?"
The Mountain gave an impression of a shrug. "Offer your Essence to the pot… ask it to remember being earth and water and air… ask it to keep any plant in it alive…"
He nodded and gently let Essence wrap around the pot, visualising growing Essence herbs and plants being carried alive and safe within the pot.
In his Essence Sense, Dao patterns unfurled from inside of the ceramic and floated around it, drawing in the three Essence types from the surroundings. The little pot glowed with Earth, Water and Air motes momentarily and then minuscule wisps of Essence Mist rose from the small pot.
Chún whooped. "It worked! Mountain, it worked! Did you see? It took almost a week… but we did it!"
His locus was happy. "You can put plants in those without worrying about the plants dying now. You just have to 'wake' the pots up before you put soil and a plant - or plants - in them."
His friend paused. "More importantly, you and I have just achieved something completely new which creates and supports life together. That is what True Cultivators do."
Chún regarded the little pot. Without Essence Sense, it looked ordinary; a somewhat inferior version of Jina with odd patterns glazed onto it. "Cool", he whispered, smiling.
"Very", agreed the Mountain.
---
Unfortunately, after Chún had removed all the other pots from the shelves, his locus insisted on starting yet another batch of clay, "Just in case", the current lot in the kilns was insufficient. Chún suspected it was more like the Mountain was becoming obsessed with creating the perfect pot, but he decided it was not worth arguing; besides working the clay with Essence was much more fun than just doing it by hand.
At his locus' request he varied the amounts and types he manipulated the clay with very specific measurements dictated by the Mountain - some clay balls got more Earth, or less Air, or more Fire or Water added. He even tried adding Metal to a few, which resulted in some very odd looking gilding effects to some of the balls.
After the new clay was left in the drying pit to stiffen, Chún asked about lunch.
"I made a dozen balls this time, Mountain. That is four times the amount we first made, twice the amount in the kilns now - I know you can just make more kilns but so much Essence manipulation really pushes my limits."
"You are getting better at it though," came the smug rejoinder down the link. "Your control has improved and your touch is much more delicate - you are not just swamping the clay with Essence now, you are working with its patterns."
Chún got up and walked towards his fire-pit, his feet landing on the bare soil of the small path that had formed in the normal leaf litter after his dozens of trips to and from the clearing.
The new pots, cups and bowls he held up by Essence to float with him as he moved.
"Yes, well after that thing with the 'rock flower' yesterday, I realised that even if the clay wants to soak up Essence like nothing else I have worked with so far, it is still beneficial to work with the patterns already in the clay."
He scratched his head sheepishly, "I will learn to stop just reverting to brute force as my first response eventually…" he broke off as he crossed into the soft grass of the clearing.
"So you can be more effective with less wastage," pointed out his locus, but Chún was already focusing on other things.
"I get to eat out of my bowls today," he said happily as he sat by the fire pit, the floating potter settling to the ground around him. There was a sense of amusement in the link, but no direct reply.
Chún spent the next half shi just enjoying eating his lunch from a bowl - not a wok, or old pumpkin shell or his hands - and chopsticks. The Carp really did add something unique to his diet, he thought - they were very rich in Essence and succulent. Thankfully, the fish remained fresh after being slow cooked all night - wrapped in leaves and buried at the very edge of the fire pit.
Chún sat, picking his teeth and chewing a stem of grass to clean food out, enjoying the warmth of the Golden Crow, the sighing of the breeze and the sounds of the forest. He needed to build a place to hold all his new pottery, he thought -at least until some of it got sold with the plants. Some basic shelves and benches out of the extra large dead wood he had been keeping aside every time he went collecting firewood would would work.
"Do not forget to fill up your new large water pot from the hot spring in the cave", reminded the Mountain as he finished his lunch. "I've prepared a very large, almost flat surface back at the workshop that has the same Dao patterns as your stew pot. It will boil away the water quickly and you should have some salt remaining. Probably other minerals too."
"Oh, yes!" Picking up the several catty sized pot, he walked swiftly into the cave and filled it directly from the hot spring bubbling from the rock. The heat was annoying, but thanks to his cultivation, could not do him any harm, so he just filled the pot directly from the hottest point.
The spring bubbled sedately, so Chún realised he would need to wait a little while for the pot to fill. He sat down against a handy bulge in the cave wall beside the hot spring and gazed up at the glittering and shifting light patterns cast by the Silver Sapling on the cave roof and walls. A sudden thought struck him and he recalled a question he had been meaning to ask for several days now.
"Mountain? Why do you say I am thirteen summers and not eleven?"
"I can read your bone age," Replied his locus matter-of-factly. "Growing things is basically what I do - its second nature for me to tell how old things are. I know the exact age of everything that touches me - unless they are Immortals. That is why sects and clans use Assessment Stones to test the ages of applicants - Assessment Stones are small pieces taken from places like me."
Chún considered that, watching the pot filling. "Oh. Why did I look like I was eleven then? That is how I guessed... I knew the age of the other village children who were a similar same height and weight."
A comforting feeling swept down the link with the Mountain's reply. "You were malnourished. Not a problem now, of course. With all the improvements your body has gone through, you could pass for someone three or four years older, but you will not appear to age physically much more than that for a long time. If you get to World or Immortal Levels of cultivation, age will simply be like clothes you change on and off.
Chún rubbed his nose in slight confusion. "Oh, is Immortal is another word for Cultivator then?"
The link pulsed with agreement. "It is another way to refer to Cultivators who have advanced beyond World-level. Not something you need to worry about for a long time - and not quite as relevant for True Cultivators either - because part of them have some aspects of World Level from birth."
Chún nodded. "I remember Yijing saying World level Consumers were at least sort of True Cultivators because they generated Essence, but that the vast majority of Consumers were below that level."
An affirmative feeling trickled down to the young teen. "Correct. Out of a billion people who attempt cultivation there may be a million or so who succeed in becoming cultivators of different levels - out of those perhaps one World level Cultivator might advance. Sometimes it takes more than a million cultivators, that is just an average. You might not have anyone talented enough in three or four billion people - or you might get one or two in five hundred million."
The Mountain sighed in the link, but Chún fancied that he could feel a breeze brushing past his cheek. "For every successful World Level Cultivator, there are at least a million people who succeeded in cultivating at lower ranks - Consuming resources as fast as they can manage - trying to advance. And each rank requires more resources, rarer and older. So you see the problem."
The cave was silent for a few moments after that with the young teen trying to imagine a million people - let alone a million Consumers - and failing. He noticed the pot was full, so Chún picked up the now several tens of catties heavy pot carefully to avoid spilling and walked back to the workshop.
Like his locus had said there was now a large, slightly concave surface of the same black rock as the stew pot and the drying pit present a few paces away from the pit. As Chún poured the water from the pot onto the surface, familiar patterns of Fire appeared and after a moment, the thin layer of water began to bubble.
"That should work," said the Mountain. "Give it a half shi. The clay should be stiff enough to work now, by the way."
"I hope this is the last batch for a while," sighed Chún in resignation as he sat down at the work stone and began the now familiar process.