The mountain path was an arduous climb but the view atop Divine Ascent was well worth it. Though, Pia and Conch, lungs burning for oxygen couldn’t appreciate it just yet.

“I won,” Pia said between gasping breaths.

Bent over with his hands on his knees, Conch shook his head in disagreement. His face was deep red, sweat-soaked hair clinging to his forehead. Pia tried to laugh but could only manage a wheezy breath.

After a few moments to catch their breath, the two forced themselves to walk, stretching their muscles after their long run. Neither wanted a muscle cramp so early in the morning. The sun was just peeking through the clouds, pushing away the darkness in reds and purple swirls. Pia and Conch eyed the view with awe, amazed at the beauty.

Divine Ascent Mountain was famous for its rich natural yi for the many sages who had found immortality from its heights. Even now, Pia and Conch felt their bodies recovering quickly as they breathed in the yi rich air. Life essence saturated everything atop the mountain.

From below, it appeared like any other peak, but once at the top, the mountain’s flat top stretched for miles, encircled by meadows that gave way to dense forests. Though the mountain was as tall and regal as any, the top appeared to have been cut off in a straight line.

Near the cliff’s edge stood their school, Reflection, a long, single-level wooden building with a pagoda-style roof. It was a short, long building rather than tall and ornate. On both sides of Reflection, long open windows ran the length of the building that left them exposed to both summer heat and winter cold. Pia often thought how generous the builders had been in ensuring their discomfort year-round. Conch always swore the view overlooking the cliff was worth it.

Pia had to concede on that point as the view was magnificent sky, clouds, and towering mountain peaks in the distance. It was as close to the heavens as a mortal could get.

The two slowly meandered close to the cliff as their breathing and hearts slowed to a normal rhythm.

“Pretty sunrise,” Pia remarked casually. The reds and purples were lovely today.

“You always understate it,” Conch complained, eyes dreamily taking in the shifting colors of the morning sky. Pia thought he was envisioning how to paint it.

Pia’s head swiveled around to the path as the faint sound of voices floated up from the path. Immediately her face tightened into a frown.

“Let’s go in,” she said to Conch, turning away from the sky and towards their school.

His eyes followed the noise and then back at her. Pia hated the light of understanding that she saw in that gaze. Kindly, he said nothing, and the pair walked across the meadow.

Fewl was, of course, the only one inside, already at their usual seats. His eyes didn’t leave his work as they came to join him. As he passed by for his seat closest to the windows, Conch lightly clapped Fewl’s right shoulder in greeting, careful not to disrupt his writing.

Pia took her spot in the middle and eagerly collapsed onto her floor mat with a grunt of relief. She pushed her feet out under her desk and stretched her arms up over her head. Fewl’s fingers froze poised over his paper in preparation. Seconds later, Pia’s head thumped onto his left shoulder.

“Fewl, always the first to Failed Scholar’s Last Leap,” she whined, voice muffled against his shoulder.

Conch smirked and leaned his head down to rest on his left palm. His friends got on like fire and oxygen. He liked being the fan or the water to balance their fire

Fewl shook his shoulder, but her head didn’t budge. He sighed and reached over, using a finger to push her face off. Pia fell backward, dramatically, as if she’d been shoved. It left Conch’s vision clear to see Fewl’s steely gaze fall on her bruised face and take it in. His jaw tightened and Conch could tell his friend was angry. Fewl already had a solid scholar’s mask, but Conch knew his tells well.

Fewl, being Fewl, didn’t say a thing, and instead, wet his brush with fresh ink and went back to writing.

“You always bully me,” Pia said with a long-suffering sigh.

“Stop insulting the mountain with your poor wit,” Fewl retorted, ignoring her baiting comment.

Conch grinned.

“That was a bit poor for you. Last time it was,” Conch said to Fewl, then paused to shift his voice to sound like Fewl. “‘Not everyone can use their head only as a paperweight Pia.’”

“You’re picking up his mannerisms too well,” Pia said in praise, and she gave him a fist to her palm in respect.

She leaned close to Fewl, careful not to bump him again, and peeked at his work. Her nose crinkled as she read.

“Poetry?” distaste was clear in her voice.

Conch’s lips twitched.

“A blossom in spring turns red upon heated steel?” Conch asked in a sly voice. He knew bawdry poetry well from his brothers.

Fewl looked up from his work to give him a frigid, unimpressed look.

“What Pia lacks in manners, you make up for in disgrace,” Fewl said coldly.

Conch clutched his chest as if stabbed in the heart. Pia leaned over and patted his back soothingly.

“Our friend has no culture,” she told Conch. “If you cut him, ink would pour out.”

Seeing Fewl’s back straighten into a rigid line, Conch and Pia relented and sank into silence. Conch shifted his posture to lean against the wall and watch the sky.

Pia cracked open her book. Her own scratchy handwriting stared back at her. She slammed the book shut and pillowed her head on her arms atop the desk instead. Her eyes followed Fewl’s hand as he made fast, flowing strokes across the paper. It was relaxing and her eyes fluttered in sleepiness.

The voices she’d heard before finally reached the mountain top. Their classmates were arriving. Pia sat up as anxiety flooded her. She tucked her legs into a respectable position to avoid any trouble from her slouching. Butterflies danced in her belly as she pretended to read.

While most of their peers knew not to disturb Fewl, everyone loved Conch. It wasn’t atypical for classmates to crowd around, sitting on the window or standing around Conch as they talked. Today was no different. Conch turned around in his seat to talk to the three behind them. Pia stared hard at her book, trying to tune everything out.

Fewl leaned close and whispered in her ear, “It’d be more believable if you turned a page.”

He sat back with a little smirk on his lips as if he’d never taken his attention from his work.

Pia let out a slightly strained laugh and turned a page. She hadn’t read a word. People made her nervous, especially their peers. Incidents like the day before weren’t uncommon when Fewl and Conch weren’t around. If they ever found out… A shudder ran up her spine at the horrible thought. Pia never wanted them to see her as something to pity. It would kill her.

Mei and Mai had arrived already and from the corner of her eye she could see them lingering nearby. Just try to start trouble, she thought, eyes narrowing at the book. Just as quickly as the thought happened, Pia forced it away. It was more important that she seemed like an easy target. It wasn’t the time to pick fights. Selection was in days and if Pia passed the tests, Dwelling would be in her past. Her fingers curled around the edge of her book. She had to be selected. If not…

A nudge against her knee broke her out of her thoughts. Looking up she saw Fewl once more looking at her. His coldly handsome face was as blank as ever. The impeccable way his hair fell, not a strand out of place, always made her slightly envious. A true gentleman scholar in the works.

“What?” she asked, unsure of what he wanted.

“Let me see your book,” he said.

Obediently, Pia handed him her book.

Fewl opened it and looked it over. Then, he pulled yi into his fingers, picked up his brush, and began writing in cinnabar red ink in her book.

A warmth of affection unfurled in her heart as Fewl wrote notes into her book until the Master arrived and the classes began.