“Hello, my name is Kai, and this child here is Lu Bu,” Kai said, gesturing to the child beside him. Lu Bu nodded in acknowledgment, his wide eyes taking in the scene around them.
“Is it really that obvious that we’re from the south?” Kai asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.
“Of course,” Taimyr replied with a knowing smile. “I could tell based on the clothing you’re wearing that you’re not from around here. No one in their right mind would travel through Zan dressed like that.”
At Taimyr’s words, Kai glanced down at his and Lu Bu’s attire. They wore a simple tunic and trousers, both made of lightweight fabric that allowed for ease of movement. It was practical for the warmer climate of the south, but he hadn’t considered how ill-suited it might be for the chill of Zan.
Turning his gaze to Taimyr and the others gathered around the fire, he noted their thick leather cloaks, lined with fur around the shoulders. The cloaks were clearly designed for winter, providing warmth and protection against the biting cold. Beneath the heavy outer layers, he could see glimpses of lighter, more colorful clothing—vibrant fabrics that hinted at the personalities of their wearers.
The cloaks seemed excessive to Kai. Sure, the nights in Zan could be cold, but the day had been relatively mild, and he had thought a warm campfire would suffice to get through the chilly evenings. It was springtime, after all, and he anticipated that the weather would only get warmer from now on.
“Does wearing clothing that shows you're from the south invite trouble or something?” Kai asked, a hint of curiosity lacing his tone.
Taimyr paused, considering Kai's question for a moment before responding. “No, well, kinda. But not really? It kinda depends. But that’s not what I was getting at. Your clothing makes you extremely ill-prepared for the weather of Zan.”
“I mean, the weather isn't that cold,” Kai replied, trying to defend his choice of attire. “I’m sure I'll need warmer clothing when winter comes around.”
“Sure, it’s warm now,” Taimyr said, shaking his head. “But you need at least a cloak if you're traveling through Zan. In case you run into freezing rain.”
“Freezing rain?” Kai echoed, his brow furrowing in confusion.
“Yup. It’s rain that freezes upon contact with anything. It’s a weather phenomenon that can happen any time of year,” Taimyr explained, his tone serious. “That’s why if you intend to travel, you need to bring a cloak to protect yourself. No traveler in Zan would be caught dead without one. Actually, you might be found dead without one if there’s a particularly bad bout of freezing rain, getting yourself frozen solid. You were lucky not to have run into that weather after coming so far north already. It’s a unique phenomenon in Zan that I hear people in the south don’t have to deal with. I’m sure it’s something you’ve never heard of. So, this must be quite surprising to hear about something like this that you don’t have in the south.”
Kai nodded along with Taimyr's explanation, absorbing the information. The large man was probably right; people living in the south likely had never encountered freezing rain. However, Kai had a different perspective. He remembered the concept from his dreams, where Mike had lived in a place that experienced freezing rain on rare occasions, usually in the spring or fall. But what set Taimyr's explanation apart was the idea that freezing rain could occur at any time in Zan.
From what Kai understood, freezing rain typically happened within a specific temperature range, limiting its occurrence to certain seasons. The notion that it could strike in the middle of summer was both fascinating and alarming.
The rogue cultivator began to see how such a phenomenon contributed to the stories about the lands of Zan being cursed. Running into freezing rain unprepared would easily warp people's perception of the area, turning a simple journey into a treacherous ordeal.
His dream of a garden here withered before his eyes. How could anything grow in a place where the sky itself turned against life? He pictured tender shoots bursting from the earth, only to be flash-frozen under a sudden downpour, their vibrant promise snuffed out in an instant.
“How do you grow anything here?” Kai mumbled, his thoughts spilling out loud as he pondered the challenges of cultivating life in such an unpredictable environment.
“Within a greenhouse, or by growing plants that can handle freezing rain,” Taimyr replied, his tone matter-of-fact. “But my tribe doesn’t deal with such things. You’ll have to ask a farmer from a city or town to know more. We, of the Windriders tribes, are a people who hunt, gather, and trade for our keep.” He paused, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Now that I’ve answered your questions, it’s only fair that you answer mine. Where are you from, and why are you here?”
“It’s a long story,” Kai said, hesitating for a moment.
“I have time,” Taimyr said playfully, his arms crossed as he settled in for the tale.
“Well—” Kai took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. He began to recount his journey, starting with his flight from the Ember Sword Sect’s territory. He spoke of the treacherous wilderness he had traversed, the dangers he had faced, and how he had come across Lu Bu, a child in need, whom he had saved from a large boar.
As he wove his narrative, he carefully omitted any details that would reveal his identity as a cultivator, focusing instead on the challenges of survival and the bond he had formed with Lu Bu. He described their arrival in Wuyuan City and the hope that had surged within him at the prospect of finding refuge. But then came the disappointment—the cold rejection at the gates, the doors slammed shut in their faces.
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Throughout the story, Taimyr’s expression remained neutral, his features difficult to read. However, when Kai recounted the moment they had been turned away at the city gates of various communities, he noticed a shift in Taimyr’s demeanor. The warrior’s brow furrowed, and a flash of anger crossed his face, a stark contrast to his earlier playful demeanor.
Once Kai finished his tale, Taimyr looked down, shaking his head slowly. “It seems that the people of the north have forgotten about the Rite of Hearth. Truly sad times; I’m sure our ancestors weep.”
“What’s the Rite of Hearth?” Kai asked, intrigued.
“It’s a tradition the people of Zan follow… used to follow,” Taimyr explained, his voice tinged with nostalgia. “It dictates that travelers should be offered shelter, especially if they are desperate. Not doing so invites ill omens upon you and your family. Turning people away is not something I expected to hear of. But seeing you here, it must be true.”
Kai felt a pang of sympathy for Taimyr and the traditions that seemed to be fading away. “That’s a shame. It sounds like a beautiful way to honor those who are in need.”
Taimyr nodded, his expression somber. “It is. The Rite of Hearth is about community and compassion. It reminds us that we are all connected, that we share this world and its burdens. When we turn our backs on those in need, we risk losing our humanity.”
Kai reflected on Taimyr’s words, feeling a deeper understanding of the culture and values of the people in Zan. “I appreciate you sharing that with me. It gives me hope that there are still those who remember the importance of kindness.”
“Kindness is a rare thing these days,” Taimyr said, his gaze drifting to the flickering flames of the fire. “But you will still find it here within our tribe. The Windrider clans will honor the old ways, even if everyone else forgets!” He declared, his voice filled with pride and conviction.
Kai felt a warmth spread through him at Taimyr’s words. “I was meaning to ask, since you now know who we are, can you tell me about yourselves?” he inquired, eager to learn more about the people who had welcomed him so openly.
“Ah! My apologies,” Taimyr replied, a sheepish grin breaking through his serious demeanor. “Everyone in Zan knows who we are, so I just assumed you would too. But you're not from Zan, so there’s no way you’d know. Let me introduce myself again. You know me as Taimyr; I am the leader of this tribe, having taken over from my father, Nikita, who passed five summers ago. We are one of the many wandering tribes of the Windrider clan—an ancient people who roam the lands of Zan, as old as the land itself, and who have witnessed the rise and fall of countless city-states within these borders. We are traders, hunters, and lore keepers of the old ways. My particular tribe focuses on hunting caribou. We follow the caribou across the land, eating its meat to sustain us and collecting its hide to trade with one of the many cities.”
“So, you’re nomads,” Kai replied, nodding in understanding.
“Aye, all the different Windrider tribes are, with a few exceptions,” Taimyr confirmed, his expression thoughtful. “We move with the seasons, following the herds and the changing landscape. It’s a way of life that keeps us connected to the land and its rhythms.”
“But that must mean you’ve seen a lot of Zan, right? You must know the area well?” Kai pressed, his curiosity piqued.
“We have,” Taimyr said, his eyes glinting with the memories of countless journeys. “I take it there is something you wish to know about Zan?”
“Can you tell me about Northend?” Kai asked, wishing to know about the place.
“Northend? Why would you want to know about that place?” Taimyr asked, surprise evident in his voice.
“I’m looking for a place to eventually settle down,” Kai admitted, his tone earnest.
Taimyr’s expression shifted, a shadow crossing his features. “If you’re looking for a place to live, there are safer areas in Zan. Northend is the land of giants and is dangerous for those who are not prepared. No one really goes there besides us, the Windrider tribes. We are some of the few people that can handle the creatures of that place.”
“Giants?” Kai echoed, his curiosity piqued. “And you say your clan is one of the few people who fight them? Are you a clan of cultivators?”
He had only heard of giants in myth, and based on the legends he’d encountered, they sounded like beings that only cultivators could stand a chance against. The thought of facing such formidable creatures sent a shiver down his spine.
“Ha! You're funny,” Taimyr replied with a hearty laugh. “Nay, we’re as mortal as they come. Why’d you assume we’re cultivators?”
“Well, you said your clan can fight giants, and in the south, clans often become cultivator clans,” Kai explained, feeling a bit sheepish for his assumption.
“Now it looks like you’re also assuming too much,” Taimyr said, though his tone held more amusement than reproach. “The Windriders are no cultivators. Though…” He scratched his beard, gaze drifting northward. “We did have an estranged tribe long ago. Went south, took up the fancy arts, never came back.” A dismissive wave. “Doesn’t concern us. That was generations past.”
Kai filed that away—a lost branch of the clan, turned cultivators?—but Taimyr was already moving on.
“And don’t let the name fool you. ‘Land of Giants’ doesn’t mean what southerners think.” His voice dropped, as if sharing a secret. “No actual giants stalk Northend. Not the kind you’re picturing, anyway.”
“Then why call it that?”
Taimyr grinned. “Because everything there is giant. Trees so vast you can’t see their tops from the ground. Giant lakes that boil without fire. Beasts that grow to impossible sizes.” He jerked a thumb toward the grazing horses, their massive forms dwarfing even the sturdy draft breeds Kai knew. “Our steeds? Bred from Northend stock. And they’re on the smaller end of some of the things that roams there.”
Kai’s gaze flicked to the animals. He’d noticed them earlier—their shoulders stood taller than a man, their muscles rippling like boulders beneath sleek coats. In the south, only spirit beasts reached such sizes, their bodies swollen by qi. Yet these creatures bore no aura of cultivation. No, this was something else.
“How?” Kai murmured, half to himself. “How can they grow so large without…?”
“Without qi?” Taimyr finished, chuckling. “Northend doesn’t play by southern rules. Things grow wild there. Too wild, most say.” His expression sobered, the laughter fading from his eyes. “That’s why I wouldn’t recommend you going there. The beasts that roam those lands are not so dangerous that a group of hunters couldn’t fight them off safely, but that’s only if you’re in a group. If it’s just you, you’re taking a big risk until you reach one of the few towns or villages in Northend.”
