Druidic Cultivation | Twenty-One

Feng Jiao’s trip down the mountain was largely uneventful and he made it back to his house in no time at all. His mother, who was hanging laundry to dry in their backyard, was the first one to spot Jiao as he swaggered out of the forest in his torn and decaying clothing. Although she couldn’t sense how strong her son had become, she could tell that he’d gained much from his two-month camping trip.

“Your father has been waiting for you, go see him after you get changed.” Weifang Xue smiled as her son picked up his steps and trotted by. 

Feng Jiao rushed to his father’s office, stopping only to change and drop of his bulging bag in his bedroom. In no time at all, he found himself sitting in front of a slowly crackling fire in Feng Zhipei’s study. Jiao recapped his journey and assured his father that he’d made much progress in his cultivation as well as his martial arts.

“Good. I know I’ve said it before, but you are a godsend Jiao’er. Ever Xue’er managed to bring you through to this world, our lives have changed for the better. Quickly, let’s gather our things and set off for the Banded Plateau.” The Banded Plateau was the stretch of land that the Feng Family ancestors occupied. Although the main branch of the family was located close to the capitol, their real seat of power was, in-fact, the Banded Plateau. 

Feng Jiao met his father in front of the house where a carriage had already been readied. It wasn’t a huge one like those they’d taken to the awakening ceremony, but a regular-sized horse-drawn carriage. The rest of the Fengs, with the exception of his father’s line, had already departed to arrive at the Banded Plateau well before the festivities started, so their carriage only needed to bring Feng Jiao and his father, his two sisters were staying behind with their mother due to their age and his mother was handling village affairs in place of Granny Xiaoke.

“Ho’ there, young masters Feng!” An elderly man shouted down to them from his place at the driver's seat. Although he struck an un-imposing image, Feng Jiao knew this to be Feng Kiya, one of the strongest cultivators in the Crouching Grass. His grandmother had met Feng Kiya years and years ago while she was traveling the continent. At the time, his name had just been Kiya, an orphan of war and a vagabond. 

They’d quickly become fast-friends and he’d joined the Feng clan as his grandmother’s sworn consort and protector. He’d never managed to suppress his wanderlust, however, and Feng Jiao rarely saw him. Looking to the side, Jiao could see that his father was also surprised by the driver of their carriage.

“Uncle Kiya, I had no clue that you would be here!” Feng Zhipei, quick to recover his wit, gave a low bow to the man he respected most in this world. Both of the two grown men knew that there was a decent chance that they were, in fact, father and son. Still, due to Feng Kiya’s roaming nature and carefree attitude, he’d always been more than glad to play the role of uncle.

Still, because of the fact that Zhipei had been the only son that could have possibly been sired by him, Feng Kiya had always treated Zhipei and his kin better than Feng Xiaoke’s other children. Even now it was likely that none of them had any clue he’d been in the Crouching Grass.

“Get up, get up. No need for that Zhi’er! We’re all family here.” The older man cracked a big grin as he leapt from the carriage and helped his nephew to his feet. His eyes strayed over to Feng Jiao and every single one of his teeth were exposed. He reached over to ruffle Feng Jiao’s hair, an annoying but acceptable motion that he did every time they met.

“How’re you my little grand-few. I see you are tagging along with your old man for the family’s little reunion, huh? Good, it's just as well. I was missing my Xiao’er and she was missing when I arrived, so I just so happen to be headed in the same direction. Tell you what, if you let me travel with you and your father, I’ll give you a little present.” 

“Don’t be like that, Uncle Kiya. You’ll always be welcome to travel with us. We’re in your hands.” Feng Jiao gave his likely-grandfather a bow and the trio walked over to the carriage. Although he didn’t know how strong Feng Kiya actually was, he was widely acknowledged as the strongest of Granny Xiaoke’s consorts. You couldn’t, after all, travel so widely and frequently without strength of your own.

“Youth first.” Feng Kiya opened the carriage, allowing Feng Jiao to clamber in before him. Seated upon the bench that ran along the back of the carriage was a beautiful polearm. It was nearly six feet in length, made of polished and smoothed wood. The last foot of the weapon was a wicked looking spearhead with bladed edges, slightly curved with a serrated edge along the inside of the crescent.

“Well go on, it won't hurt you. Oh! Unless you trip. Watch your step, Jiao-ow, yeah?” Kiya teased him from behind. Now sure that the weapon was his, Feng Jiao walked over and picked it up. It wasn’t the highest quality weapon he’d ever seen, but in his hands the polearm felt like an extension of him. After a moment of observation, Feng Jiao realized that the weapon seemed to have been balanced exactly the same as the carved staff he’d carried for the last two months. Not only that, but the blade on the end would serve well with his fighting style.

With a quick glimpse over his shoulder, he saw an amused gleam in Kiya’s eyes accompanied by a knowing smirk. Feng Jiao gave his benefactor a nod and a bow, excited to have a weapon in time for the family reunion. Like that, the trio set off on a month-long journey to the Banded Plateau, stopping at nights for martial practice and sleep. Kiya told his travelling companions various crazy stories from his lifetime of travels and offered sparring tips to them both as well. All in all, the four week-long trip went by really smoothly. 

As they approached the Banded Plateau, Jiao got his first glimpse of their clan’s origin lands. The plateau itself was once a large mountain but now stood only half as tall as it used to, having been destroyed during a battle in the Ancient Era. From the ground, one could see that the entire top of the mountain appeared to have been cleanly sliced off by a blade, leaving a level platform that stood alone. Unlike most mountains, the Banded Plateau was not a part of a mountain range. Whether it had always stood alone or was the sole survivor of a cataclysmic battle ages ago, nobody knew.  

The trek to the top of the Banded Plateau was not short either. There were four roads that led up to the top of sheared mountain at the north, south, east, and western sides, all of which winded around the mountain several times like snakes constricting their prey. Two days after the carriage stepped onto the winding path, their horse dragged them out onto the top of the flat mountain.

The travel-weary trio took the southern road and therefore arrived outside the town of Southfeng. The main family was very wealthy and had populated the mountain for several generations, creating their own pockets of alchemy and blacksmithing. As luck would have it, the annual reunion that year was to be held in Southfeng, so the trio weren’t required to take the perimeter road around to the neighboring towns.

As the town finally came into view, Feng Jiao’s eyes were rewarded with a view of dark-red stone buildings and slated roofs. Smoke poured from several chimneys and the sound of children playing could be heard on the wind. Although it was Feng Jiao’s first time visiting his clan’s ancestral home, he couldn’t help but feel welcomed from the sights and smells abundant.

Uncle Kiya took the carriage around the town, rather than entering it, and as the buildings faded out of sight once more behind them, a city of tents appeared. Although there were not as many children as he’d seen in the Willow Mountain City’s awakening ceremony, there was still a veritable sea of tents due to all of the adults who visited each year to turn in tribute and stuck around for the festivities. Crouching Grass’s tribute, seventy percent of that year’s yield of ardor grass, had been brought ahead of time alongside his actual uncles and his grandmother. 

The Feng Family proper collected a large tithe of specific products from each of their branch families to sell in the capital in return for the land that the branch families were founded upon, as well as the ability to use the Feng name for protection and sway. The remaining thirty percent was kept by the Crouching Grass and processed into various products to be sold closer to home, such as the shipment that went to Willow Mountain with Jiao the last time, he’d left his mountain.

Kiya turned the carriage over to an attendant before hopping off and disappearing into the crowd, likely off to cause trouble, while Feng Jiao and Zhipei located their branch of the family. His father carried their tent while Feng Jiao lugged around his new leaf-bladed spear, still getting used to traveling with the bladed weapon. He was a lot more comfortable with it now than he’d been a month ago, but he still couldn’t wait to commission some sort of sling to carry it on his back.

Eventually they located Granny Xiaoke’s tent, which doubled as her office while in the field, and Feng Jiao relieved his father of their tent. Zhipei went in to greet his mother while his son set off to find a nearby spot to set up. They’d arrived just in time as the competition for the youth would start the following morning. 

Jiao sat down and began cultivating in the slightly more Qi-dense air of the plateau as he awaited the event to start.