The Ashen Healer

Chapter 3

Elder Blackwood waved his hand again. "Bring the Jade Slate."

Two disciples carried a large, heavy stone slab into the hall. It was made of green jade. It glowed with a soft internal light.

The surface of the slate was covered in thousands of names. These were the names of every member of the Azure Cloud Sect. It was the registry. As long as your name was on the slate, you were protected. You were family. You had access to the library, the dining hall, the dormitories.

One of the disciples held a special brush. It tipped with red energy.

"Find the name," Elder Blackwood ordered.

The disciple searched the slate. "Here it is. Row 40, column 12. Evans."

"Erase it."

The disciple pressed the brush against the stone.

Evans watched from the floor. He couldn't take his eyes off it.

Where his name was written in gold light, the red brush touched it.

Hiss.

Smoke rose from the stone. The gold light flickered. Then, it turned black. Then, it vanished.

The spot where "Evans" had been was now blank. It was smooth stone.

It happened in real time. Evans felt a strange snapping sensation in his mind. The connection to the sect’s protective barrier was gone. He felt the wind from outside the hall for the first time. It was cold.

"It is done," the disciple said.

"And his insignia," the Elder said.

An Enforcer reached into Evans’s pocket. He pulled out a small wooden badge. It was carved with a cloud. Evans had carved it himself when he first joined, five years ago. He had been so proud. He had slept with it under his pillow.

The Enforcer held it up. He dropped it on the floor.

He lifted his heavy boot.

CRACK.

The wood shattered. Splinters flew across the stone. The cloud was broken into pieces.

Evans stared at the broken wood. It looked like trash. Just like him.

"Remove him," the Sect Master said. He turned his back and walked up the stairs. The show was over. He had more important things to do.

"Get up," the Enforcer growled.

Evans tried. He really did. But his body was empty. The sealing of his Qi had left him paralyzed with shock.

"Useless," the Enforcer spat.

He didn't help Evans up. He grabbed Evans by the ankle.

"Let’s go."

The Enforcer started walking toward the massive double doors at the entrance of the hall. He dragged Evans across the floor.

Evans’s body scraped against the rough stone. His skin, already raw, tore open. A streak of red blood smeared across the sacred grey floor of the Judgment Hall.

The crowd parted to make a path. They pulled back their robes so Evans wouldn't touch them. They looked at him like he was garbage being taken to the dump.

Evans watched the ceiling move past him. He felt every bump in the floor.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

His head bounced. His vision blurred.

He saw the faces of the crowd one last time. They were a blur of colors. Blue robes. Mocking smiles. cruel eyes.

He saw Chen, the boy he saved. Chen was hiding behind a pillar, shaking.

He saw Sarah. She was wiping her hands as if she was dirty.

He was dragged past the sigil where he had knelt. He was dragged past the shattered pieces of his wooden badge.

The Enforcer reached the great doors. The sunlight from outside spilled in. It was blindingly bright. It hurt Evans’s eyes.

The Enforcer threw him.

Evans flew through the air. He hit the dirt outside the hall. He rolled down the stone steps.

Oof.

He landed in the mud at the bottom of the stairs. His body screamed in pain.

He lay there, gasping for air. The mud was cold and wet against his cheek.

Above him, the Enforcer stood in the doorway. He looked down at Evans.

"If you return," the Enforcer said, his voice void of any emotion, "we will kill you."

The Enforcer stepped back.

The great wooden doors began to close.

Creak...

Evans lifted his head. He watched the gap between the doors get smaller. He could see the Judgment Hall one last time. The candles, the gold, the people. The world he had lived in for five years.

Boom.

The doors slammed shut.

The sound was final. It was the sound of a coffin closing.

Evans was alone.

He lay in the mud. The wind howled. It was going to rain.

He had no money. He had no cultivation. He had no friends. He had no name.

He tried to move his hand. His fingers brushed against something in his pocket. The Enforcers had taken his badge, but they hadn't checked his secret pocket inside his undershirt.

His trembling fingers felt a small, hard object. A small black stone. No, not a stone. A seed.

An old patient, a beggar who died in the streets, had given it to him. “For the healer with the kindest heart,” the beggar had said. “A seed that only grows in the ashes of a destroyed life.”

Evans gripped the seed. It was warm.

He pushed his face out of the mud. He looked at the closed doors.

He didn't cry anymore. The sadness was gone.

In its place, something else was growing. Something hot. Something dark.

He spat out a mouthful of bloody mud.

"Parasite," he whispered to the wind.

He squeezed the seed until his knuckles turned white.

"I will show you," he hissed. "I will show you all who the real parasite is."

Evans dragged himself toward the forest line. He had to survive. He had to live.

Because one day, the doors of the Judgment Hall would open again. And when they did, Evans would not be kneeling.

The first drop of rain fell on his back. The storm was coming. But the storm inside Evans had already begun.