Samuel closed his eyes and lay on the ground, the cultivator had told him to be as comfortable as possible and this was the most comfortable position he could think of.

“Now start thinking of a spinning circle and the most important thing you can of.”

He did so, first thinking of the blue sun that hung in the sky and the three moons, he knew that those distant circles spun around their world and he could not think of anything greater than that.

For what was important to him…

He delved deep in his mind and the thing that kept constantly popping back up was a tree. When he was younger, there used to be this massive tree in the garden that he loved to take shade under. He spent many a day sleeping under the tree.

It had been the saddest day he had ever experienced when the tree green was too large and had to be cut down to make way for the garden he now managed.

He wanted that tree to be infinite, indestructible, to be so large that it would be unstoppable. Even if the gods tried to destroy his tree the entire thing would grow back like the leaves of a plant. This tree would be greater than any of the gods.

A sharp searing sensation erupted at the very core of his being. It was as if the gods themselves disapproved of his choices. He wanted to say sorry because the stories of the gods were some of the highlights of his life. But this was his fantasy and in it his tree reigned supreme.

In his mind’s eye, he saw the result of his imagination. A massive tree, bigger than the sky itself was encircled by the constant motion of his sun and moons.

But he was not done, the reason his precious tree was cut was because it had not born fruit. It was supposed to be a fruit tree but since it gave no fruits, Mother had no ‘use’ for useless ‘decorations’.

His tree would not be a mere decoration. He imagined the tree bearing fruit so great that everyone would worship the tree and tell him how great his tree was.

That fruit would be able to do everything.

It could be food.

It could be cultivation.

It could heal any disease, curse, or injury.

It could make things perfect.

Anything his mind could think of, that fruit could do. It would be the best fruit in all of creation.

The scene changed slightly. The gargantuan dark wood tree with huge leaves now had massive fruits. There were not many of these fruits but enough for Samuel to feel proud of himself.

He looked at the finished product once more, wondering if it was truly done or if he could add anything anymore.

Then it came to him, while he had loved sleeping under the shade of the tree, the bark itself was not comfortable. So a small nook in the tree that was only made of soft silky leaves was made just for him. So he could spend forever in the tree, ask for nothing, and need nothing. Only the tree and himself against the world.

The thought made him happy, but also really lonely. He did not want to be alone. For all the beating he received from Mother, he still appreciated that over the apathy and uncaring nature of everyone else. He was always the outcast. Maybe if he shared his tree…

At that moment, he felt something in himself expand. He could not properly describe the sensation, other than it felt like he was more than himself. The painting he created in his mind also started becoming hazy as a wisp of trailing white light started taking over. He tried to stop whatever was happening, this was his imagination after all. But nothing he did was working no matter what he thought of.

Then all of it started being sucked into him, and he felt himself getting filled up and expanding like a balloon. This time it was so rapid that he thought was going to pop. But the rate did not decrease. In fact, every second it increased and increased before he felt himself being pushed to the edge. Then all at once, everything turned black.

His eyes opened before immediately closing back down. What he had been greeted with was the harsh light of the sun the moment he had opened his eyes.

It took a moment for Samuel to orient himself, to bring his mind back to what was going on, and find himself unable.

Everything was wet, his face was wet, and his clothes were wet. The hard floor beneath him was wet. Nothing made sense at all.

He tried to open his eyes once more and this time he was not directly looking at the sky.

Instead, he was directly looking at the face of the woman with white hair. She had a very surprised look on her face.

“Congratulations. You are a cultivator.”