The sarcophagus landed on a low hillside in a forest of gnarled gray trees.  There is little undergrowth in most places, even where the skeletal branches let in plenty of light - just tree roots as knotted and twisting as the branches above, holding fetid pools of strangely oily mud and the occasional visible bone.  Still, despite whatever must have happened here there are signs that life is beginning to return to this place.  Young saplings are sprouting upwards like green beacons, still somewhat twisted but vibrant and alive.  Clumps of healthy grass and smaller plants are beginning to take hold here and there.  Mushrooms are growing from the damp wood of the dead trunks in the low-lying areas where it's wetter.

There are also signs of intelligent life - A few of the dried out husks of trees on the hills are now stumps.  Others have had path-blocking branches cut off with fresh axe marks. 

The place is cursed and crawling with enough resentful energy that even someone without a cultivator's sense for it will feel uneasy, for all that it is so much less awful than it was a few years ago.

Efol's emotions convulse tumultuously under the tight grip of his self-control. He is relieved to not be trapped. He is viscerally disgusted by the deep, metaphysical sickness of this place. He is overjoyed to have found not only a world, not only a world with life, but a world that seems to have some modicum of civilization, even if the fact that they had not made to receive him in person spoke poorly of either their politeness or competence. None of these emotions cause so much as an errant twitch of a muscle, but a deeper sort of sense could no doubt detect the chaos.

His focus narrows on his mission. The sarcophagus's power has faded almost completely with its opening, its earthwill unspooled from its material anchor and returned to the Shaper which imbued it. With no functioning return stone, his only recourse we be to contact the locals. Resisting the urge to reach out to the struggling plants, to reinforce their life and hasten their recovery and hopefully the healing of this blasted heath, he instead steps from the sarcophagus and walks across the gnarled roots and muddy earth, moving with unnatural grace. Combined with his ashen pale complexion, bleached hair, and sterile white jumpsuit, he might give the impression of a ghost.

The appearance of an unfamiliar entity within the wards has caught the attention of the locals, even if not quite fast enough to let them greet him as he exited his vessel.  Those who would greet him, that is - nearly all have taken this occasion as reason to hide.

Two figures intercept him from the approximate direction that the markings in the ground showed the fallen trees had been dragged off to.  One is twirling a flute and walking with an outward air of confidence, as if this haunted woods were a fine city street.  He is too thin and quite unhealthy though he seems to be hiding or possibly ignoring that.  More healthy than the one beside him, at least, who is very definitely dead for all that he is walking around. 

"I have to say that is the most interesting way anyone's ever tried getting in here," the one with the flute says cheerfully, giving a bit of a salute with the instrument.  Someone unfamiliar coming in to the Burial Mounds is likely here to fight him, but not guaranteed to be so.  Wei Wuxian isn't going to make the first hostile gesture even with the roiling darkness within him screaming as always to rend and ruin.

The language interface which the sacrophagus had imbued into him alongside its ontomediation was designed to bridge the gap between the human and the utterly alien, to allow communication with beings that didn't even possess a common mode of physical existence. It felt strange to utilize it here, when what seemed to be at least mostly human persons were speaking with clearly similar physiology. Nonetheless, the actual sounds of the man's speech were completely unintelligible to Efol on their own, clarified only by the interface's translation. "Greetings. I am an explorer and representative of the Shapers of the Founding Stone." He attempts to replicate the salute without a similar instrument, trusting in the interface to convey his peaceful intent. "I cannot truthfully say that I know where 'here' is. Could you inform me?"

The state of these men, especially the moving dead, fascinates Efol deeply, but the mission demands that he acquire this information before he can pursue any merely personal interest.

"We are in the Yiling Burial Mounds, infamous cursed mountain where none have ever managed to cleanse or escape.  Until relatively recently, that is.  It is now my humble farm.

"This one is Wei Ying, courtesy name Wuxian.  My companion here is Wen Ning, courtesy name Qionglin."  At his name, Wen Ning gives an awkward bow.  "I don't believe I've ever heard of the Shapers of the Founding Stone.  Is it a cultivation sect from outside of China?"  It occurs to him that they might be local after all and Wei Wuxian is yet again going to inadvertently insult someone by not recognizing them, but everything about the stranger screams foreign so he's feeling confident.

"Thank you for informing me, and for meeting me here on your...farm. I hope my arrival has not caused any great inconvenience."

A cultivation sect. The interface provides a useful framework for understanding the concept, alongside a cluster of related ideas. "It might be more accurate to say that they are a clan rather than a sect. It is correct, though perhaps an understatement, to say that they are from outside of China." A country, itself much larger than the Dominion though much less unified, within a continent, on the surface of a sphere of earth, at the center of a vast sky-realm, at least according to interface's interpretation of the local understanding. "The Shapers are powerful beyond the comprehension of their lessers, and through their power, they have sent me and others of my series across great gulfs of non-existence to arrive in other worlds, in search of kin, in search of knowledge, and in search of the rare treasures which still shine against the backdrop of their grandeur."

His thoughts briefly pass over the non-functional state of his return stone, then to the sarcophagus, then back to the current situation. He's gained enough information from this conversation, and the interface populating his mind with its implications. He allows other directives to take the lead now. "My masters are beyond my reach, for now, but are hopefully aware of my location and the success of my traversal. In the meantime, is there anything that a healer such as myself could do for you, as a show of good faith and to build trust between our peoples?" He looks around at the decrepitude of the land, and then between the two men, one in a state of living death and the other a deathly sort of life.

The corpse beside Wei Wuxian speaks up.  Though he is physically imposing and moves with unnatural stiff movements compared to the living, Wen Ning's voice is innocent and earnest.  "My sister's a doctor.  She would be interested in getting to talk to another healer.  She says that helping others is more important than borders or loyalties and that cooperation is important, and we are in need of help.  And maybe we can help you too!"

He pauses, hesitant, looking at Wei Wuxian.  "If Wei-gongzi says it's okay?"

"I suspect Wen Ning is right, though I'm afraid there's nothing we would be able to offer in return beyond our charming company and some undersized radishes."

That thought fills him with a deep sense of exhaustion.  He is half convinced that it would be better if he sent his new visitor to the town, or perhaps to Lotus Pier.  There's no reason to sully an important international meeting by adding a demonic cultivator and a group of escaped prisoners to the mix.  He also knows they aren't in a position to turn down any assistance that comes their way.  That thought also fills him with a deep sense of exhaustion. 

He doesn't let it show.  This is a fascinating situation and Wei Wuxian is going to be excited about it.  'Powerful beyond the comprehension of their lessers,' huh?  Wei Wuxian is going to try to comprehend it anyway!

"I would accept a small debt, if you feel recompense is necessary, but in truth the good will of healing is payment enough. Please, lead the way." And Efol will follow, assuming they begin to move again.

"I suppose another thing I would be happy to receive is some information regarding your condition, if you are willing to share it? I've never seen anything exactly like it."  He gestures to Wen Qionglin.

Wen Ning waits until Wei Wuxian starts leading them, then hangs back and falls into step with their guest.

"This one is a ferocious corpse.  But one that can think!  Wei-gongzi was the one who found a way to put my soul back after I died."

It doesn't occur to either of them to try explaining ferocious corpses or undead in general. 

"Also, um.  Sorry that I don't know, but what should I call you?"

Fortunately, the interface provides an outline of the concepts, but only enough to tantalize Efol's curiosity even more. "I don't believe I've ever heard of such a thing." He glances from one to the other before settling on Wei Wuxian. "I don't suppose I could ask you an explanation of the principles behind the phenomenon, and how you used them in the case of Wen Qionglin?"

"Ah, yes. I'm designated Efol, of the Lathern series." (These concepts may not translate very well, as they mostly describe the particular variations which set the Lathern series apart from other series of healers, and the particularities of Efol's creation which in turn set him apart from other Latherns. Essential matters, at the most basic level of the organism, and modifications of life-creating technique, rather than obvious surface level characteristics that might lead to a more conventional nickname.)

A moment later, Efol looks back to Qionglin. "If it would not be a overstepping a boundary, could I examine you more closely?" He raises a hand tenderly in the living dead's direction.

"The world would probably be safer and sleep more comfortably if no one else ever learned the techniques I developed for controlling resentful energy.  Ha- they have enough of a problem with just me knowing it - best they don't think I'm taking pupils.  And you'd make so many of those hopefuls at the base of the mountain jealous."

Wen Ning isn't sure he's allowed to mind?  Or sure he's allowed to let him?  He stutters out something that isn't quite words and shies away from the attention.

Efol quickly retracts his hand and bows his head in apology.

Wuxian's words are all valuable information, to speak nothing of the further context the interface provides. "Understandable. I wouldn't want to cause you any trouble."

Efol will likely be quiet for much of the rest of the journey, replying if spoken to but mostly focused on taking in the environment, keeping careful watch for anything interesting they might pass by.

The landscape gets greener as they continue further towards the center of the Burial Mounds.  The sense of wrongness lessens even if it never fully goes away.  More of the old dead trees have been chopped up, providing plenty of light for a full carpet of ruderal plants which look outright healthy compared to the wasteland that the rest of the Burial Mounds still is. 

Wei Wuxian is very bad at being quiet.  Even if what he says is mostly empty chatter.  "...do you have any idea how long it took me to find a piece suitable to carve a nice flute with?  And I had to do it more than once since the first ones were just practice and I didn't know exactly how to do it.  I learned though!  And now we're building houses!  Houses, Efol-xiong!  Do you know how much wood is in a house?  But it's so nice to have them anyway.  When we got here everyone was sleeping in the cave, and sure there's plenty of room in there but there was no real privacy for anyone.  And there's something to be said for getting to build and decorate completely from scratch.  I wanted to try making one that was a triangle, or maybe a pentagon..."

Efol nods along politely, but doesn't speak unless Wuxian actually leaves a time for him to reply. Listening is informative, and Wuxian does not seem to need his help to maintain the conversation.

There is a pleasant sort of familiarity to the way Wuxian talks about all these sundry life events. It's not unlike how some of the younger Shapers talk, after they take their first steps out of the central compound and walk among the common people.

Wei Wuxian is more than capable of filling the silence alone, though is also perceptive and watching carefully for signs that either of his companions have opinions or anything they want to add.  In particular he's paying attention to Efol's reactions. 

Their destination is a ramshackle circle of crude huts surrounded by fields of radishes. Firewood is piled up at the edges, and rows of gray and faded red robes are hanging up to dry.  At the far side is a cliff wall with a wide cavern entrance.  Numerous mismatched tables are arrayed right in front of the cave, enough to seat just shy of fifty people.  Of those, only a few people are actually visible.  An old man is carrying wood for the cooking fire and two more have decided to keep working on one of the roofs, but everyone else is hiding out of sight in the cave.

Efol is paying attention all along, even if he has to split it between watching his guide and taking in the environment. If Wuxian happens to mention any problems that seem like they'd be solvent to medical powers of healing, that will pique his interest.

As they walk through the fields of radishes, Efol will take a moment to lean down and probe one or two of the radishes with his healer's senses, just for a moment, to get an idea of what these people have been eating, before catching up with Wuxian and Qionglin.

They are surprisingly normal radishes given the composition of the soil they've been growing in.  Radishes aren't a particularly nutritious food, but there isn't anything about these in particular that would be actively dangerous.

When they get close enough he shouts towards the cave.  "Come on out everyone! No need to waste such a nice day being cooped up inside.  Besides, we have company."

This gets a few people to shuffle their way out.  Most are old.  All are in a similar state to Wei Wuxian.  One younger woman leads the way, eyes alternating between looking at Wen Ning with concern and watching their guest with suspicion.  A small child is clinging to the skirt of one of the oldest women. 

Efol wants to know just how exactly these radishes are growing as they are here. Latherns are not agriculturists, he doesn't know the details of all the strange breeds and varietals of crops back in the Dominion, so figuring it out would require some time. Maybe he can come back to the radishes later.

"Hello everyone. I am Efol, of the Lathern series. I'm here to make first contact between your people and mine." This is not entirely true, but not entirely false either. Ideally once he'd confirmed there was civilization he would have activated his return stone, then later come back as an attache to the diplomatic envoy, after a more thoroughly equipped survey crew had learned more about the world's form and nature. That naturally wasn't option, and he was the fallback, as best he could tell anyway. Certainly the three principles were in agreement on this. "I am also a healer, and in the interest of showing good will, I would be happy to diagnose and help heal any injuries or illnesses troubling you."

Going from the signs of senescence, it seems like the locals were either plagued by some kind of alien physic that prevented their curing, or their local healers lacked the power or technique to do so. The former would be a frightening, if also somewhat exciting prospect, while the latter would hopefully be a good opportunity to display his value to these people. He might also be able to generate some additional metabolic energy for anyone he healed, it would be within the remit of discretionary warping given their conditions, but given they did have the ability to grow some food, he doesn't think it would be appropriate to warp them in way to permanently lessen their need for food.

Wen Qing is going to be far more suspicious of their guest than Wei Wuxian.  She bows politely, face neutral. 

"This one is Wen Qing, the local doctor."

She considers the offer.  They don't really have enough room to be prideful about this; for all that she knows she is an excellent doctor there's only so much anyone can do as one person with so many people low on food, old, and lacking supplies.  Never mind the effect that stress has on even non-cultivators.  Wen Qing also knows that they can't just blindly trust any random stranger Wei Wuxian decides to make friends with.  While any respectful doctor uses their abilities only to help, medical cultivation techniques can also be used to terrible ends.

More information is needed.  "How did you decide to arrive in the Yiling Burial Mounds, out of all of China?"

“It was not a choice I made, though I mean no offense. My masters, the Shapers of the Founding Stone, created the vessel which brought me here and set it on its course. They did not share any particular information regarding my trajectory nor their reasons for choosing it, and it is not my place to ask.”

Why would his Masters send his vessel into the Burial Mounds, given it's history of being absolutely deadly and also being a high concentration of resentful energy?  Her history with Wen Xu and the rest of Wen Ruohan's sect makes her suspicious of their motivations.  All the more since he sounds unwilling to question them.  Assuming he's telling the truth at all. 

"There are things that local knowledge is unable to fully fix with our resources.  Does your style of medical cultivation perhaps have any solution to arthritis in people without golden cores?  Our methods can treat the pain, but not the limited range of motion."

It seems the latter theory may be the more accurate one. The context of ‘golden core’ is also a fascinating packet of information, and Efol looks forward to getting the chance scan one.

”Yes, that should be well within my capabilities.”

The other Wen are near enough that they could hear, and they murmur amongst themselves.  The Dafan Wen have never been a brave people, even from the day their forefathers chose to give up cultivation to try to live in peace away from what the Qishan Wen Sect had been turning into.  The failure of this fleeing attempt decades later had only worsened their timidity.

Still, someone should probably step up.  "If you need a volunteer, I'll do it," says one of the group who makes his way to the front, a shorter man with hair still entirely black but deep lines on his face.  He knows that Wen Qing and Wei Wuxian are too irreplaceably valuable to risk, and that neither of them would be willing to ask others to do anything for them.

Efol smiles with perhaps the most genuine joy he's expressed in his short time here in this world. "Thank you. I will need touch you to perform my examination and to perform my healing, and during that healing you experience some brief numbness or loss of sensation in the areas I am healing. Is that acceptable?"

"That's fine," he says amicably.  "Should I lie down for this, like we do with local healing?"

"That shouldn't be necessary, but you may if you prefer."

He considers this, then shrugs.  "Nah."  The sleeping quarters are too tight-packed and dark to let everyone watch, the cave is messy, and he'd rather not lie on the ground out here.

Whenever Wen Qing examines them it is done through the wrist - something about meridians he isn't knowledgeable enough about cultivation to really understand - so that's what he offers for the contact. 

That's an acceptable starting point!

Efol's healing senses have varying characteristics, so while he will be able to get a good idea of the problem areas, as well as a very good look at this particular wrist, from just one touch, proper practice demands he do more. He narrows his focus, his eyes closing as he allows his hands to be guided by his healing senses to the joints suffering the affliction, peering into them on an esoteric level, seeing the inner machinery of life splay out before him into expansive vistas dense with information.

It requires as great care and training to traverse this living landscape as it does to travel through any strange and alien environment, great care and training which Efol possesses. He will find his way to the unwellness he identified before, and marshaling his healing power now, begin to bend, break, and mend the life around him, carefully orchestrating its reformation from its current state into the shape he sees echoing through it, of how it should be, how it must be to be healthy and whole once again.

From the unintroduced Wen's perspective, Efol simply gently holds his hands against various joints one after the other, leaving a little numb for two or three seconds, and then moving on, leaving the joint entirely healthy again.

Wen Qing looks on with concern, not that there's anything concerning that she can sense.  Wei Wuxian has decided he's excited and is bouncing slightly to show it. 

The one being healed stays perfectly still, careful not to move the joints in case it messes something about the process up.  He cracks one of his eyes open and watches as Efol continues, noticing that he is moving from joint to joint.  A familiarity with local healing makes him hesitant to interrupt, but is there a point where Efol is finished with one hand where they can stop and test the difference in mobility between the two?

Yes, there certainly is! Efol is working his way steadily around the man's body, starting with the fingers of the offered wrist's hand and working up through the palm, wrist, and arm, which seems like a perfectly reasonably place to break for the man to experience the difference Efol's healing has made.

He compares the hands, bending them each as far as is comfortable.  "You know, I never really noticed when I stopped being able to do that."

"I've been told that the symptoms of aging often sneak up on non-healers like that," Efol replies, mostly without thinking, as he continues the operation.

He makes an affirmative noise, then goes back to sitting still for it.

Assuming all this goes well and Efol doesn't encounter any unexpected and urgent health issues within his subject, it should be about three minutes of touching his arms, legs, back, neck, and ears before Efol completes his work. When he's done, every joint in the man's body feels as comfortable, both solid and flexible, as the first hand did.

There's nothing surprising.  This little community of refugees does have one of the best local magical healers living in it.

Speaking of which, Wen Qing has been patient and careful to avoid being rude, but is also absolutely going to be examining her relative now.  She walks over as subtly as possible and gets a wrist to examine to make sure nothing is amiss.  Also she wants to see if she can tell how Efol did it by looking at the results.

While she does this, Wei Wuxian is going to bounce enthusiastically around and be a distraction.

"Ah, where are our manners?  It's not proper tea, but there are some nice-tasting herbs that we've taken to drinking around here instead.  Grow all over the place in the purified areas," he says, then calls out- "Fourth Uncle, could you get the water started?  Since you all seem to hate it when I prepare anything."

He turns back to Efol and false-whispers.  "I am a perfectly good cook, I really am!  But every time I try to make something they yell at me.  It's downright unfair."

"Thank you." Efol continues to smile, though the warmth of it fades as his work is complete, reduced to a mere politeness.

To Wen Qing's observation, the man's joints are entirely whole again, without even a hint of the inflammation or even the deeper, underlying causes of the inflammation. These are a young man's joints, now, and will take as long to become arthritic as they did the first time, if not even longer. There are also subtle ripples traveling through his meridians as if they'd just recovered from a minor disruption.

"Fascinating.  It really is like the joints have been returned to a fully healthy state.  The meridians get disturbed in the process, but are able to reconnect themselves to the repaired tissue as naturally as before.  Or are you re-connecting them manually?  Do you need to go faster or slower when healing a more vital location?  How many such healings can be done in a day?"  She bows as she says it, not sure if it was rude to ask so many questions but unable to stop herself.  The healed man behind her bows deeply - all the way to the floor - and seems elated that he can so easily now.

Efol processes the context which his interface provides for 'meridians' and considers his words for a passing moment. "At the level I work on, the distinction between what is natural to the patient and what is borne by my intent is blurred. I have not had the opportunity to study the meridians of your people, but the senses of my healing power furnish me with a great deal of information regarding not only the patient's current state, but their history, as well as what possibilities they contain and what states are whole and right by them."

He makes a placating gesture in response to their bows, and a glimmer of happiness returns to his smile when he sees his patient satisfied with his work. "The speed of my work is primarily determined by the volume of living tissue which I must operate on. In the midst of a crisis or other emergency in which a life or lives are at stake, the strictures of my people afford me a limited degree of discretionary warping, which I can employ to hasten the speed of my work, among other things, so long as I leave nothing human which was once inhuman, and nothing inhuman which was once human. As for how much work of this sort I can do, as long as I'm not interrupted and am fed and hydrated to at least the minimum degree necessary for me to maintain the focus required to heal, I can continue indefinitely."

"Do the people where you come from have very different meridians?  It's unlikely to cause problems, though for safety it might be worth taking a closer look before healing a cultivator.  The amount of spiritual energy in a normal person is small enough to have negligible effects.  The amount of energy running through the meridians of cultivators is much higher and could cause problems if the disruption causes it to discharge."

"Hopefully our soup will be sufficient."  Or they can send Wei Wuxian out hunting and hope he doesn't find another night hunt to interfere with and draw more attention to them.  Again.  They also have the herbal tea, a pot of which is now ready.  It's something in the mint family though not a particularly mint-like one, pleasantly fragrant.

"Considerably different, yes. I was actually hoping to make some observations of Wei Wuxian and Wen Qionglin, to address this lack of knowledge, though I nonetheless understand their reticence given my lack of reputation."

When given the tea, he will thank whoever provides it, and will drink. Latherns have excellent senses, but Efol has not refined his for the purpose of aesthetic appreciation, and so even though he is deeply aware of the tea's chemical composition and of how his body processes its content, he can only agree that it is pleasantly fragrant.

"If I've proven myself worthy of the trust, I can continue to heal those afflicted with arthritis? I should note that that if I determine any of my future patients are suffering from an urgently life-threatening condition I may need to take immediate action to remedy it."

Wen Qing doubts it's his lack of reputation that is going to lead to Wei Wuxian avoiding any examinations, but doesn't think it's especially wise to call attention to it.  "I'm a cultivator and can make an adequate subject for examination."

The other Wen are a bit bolder now that he's proven himself friendly, but are still cautious of being seen as demanding in any way.  Even still, they decide amongst themselves an order to present themselves in (mostly oldest to youngest, though based on family generation rather than strictly age), looking hopeful and excited.  Medical cultivation can't do much more than identify problems and manage symptoms in the mundane, though it does both of those reasonably well.  Efol will be politely asked for treatment for a number of different problems.

"I would appreciate it. Perhaps after this business is concluded?" He will answer as he begins working his way through the queue. Each patient will take around the same as the first, though physically larger or smaller ones will take proportionally longer or shorter, and patients who mention additional conditions aside from arthritis will take a few seconds (perhaps as much as another minute at worst) more than others as Efol directs his attention to whatever other ailments are afflicting them.

What sort of issues plague these people? Collectively, do they paint a picture of what troubles they face?

Wen Qing nods.

With so many examples acting as evidence the general history of these people becomes clear.  Up until about two or three years ago they lived as preindustrial villagers with unusual access to cultivator medicine: not perfect by any means, but they weren't starving or dying.  Then came a period of extreme stress and outright abuse - most have year-old whip scars and other old injuries and marks from that time.  In the past several months they have been returned to Wen Qing's care and kept safe, but are only barely getting enough to eat.

Many want scars removed.  There are a wide variety of age-related health issues.  No illnesses caused by microbes or parasites, at least.  That is another thing that cultivator medicine is good for.

A notable history. Hopefully if there are any tensions remaining with these people's neighbors, Efol can help relax them. He'll need to see what he can do about finding them more food as well. He hasn't explored enough of the potential to be confident that warping local floral into superior crops falls within the remit of his discretion.

Scars are well within his power to undo, disappearing under his hands almost instantly and seemingly with only a tiny fraction of the effort that the deeper healing requires. More severe age-related complications do, indeed, take more time and more attention, but barring any issues related specifically to the meridians which he has developed a growing but still distinctly incomplete intuition and senses for, nothing will be truly resistant to his direct attention and dedicated care. By the time his work is complete, those who were forthright and complete in their requests to him are, essentially, wholly young again.

"I hope that my work has been satisfactory," he declares to each patient, one after the other, as he releases them to their own power.

They are all very happy about it, and each thank him in turn.  Most wind up peeling away from the group after being healed - there are tasks to attend to in the fields or the buildings.  Wei Wuxian and Wen Ning have wandered off at some point as well. 

None of the people Efol has had the chance to look at have anything particularly wrong with their meridians, though the level of spiritual energy in non-cultivators is low enough to have only negligible effects on the physical body even when disturbed.

When the crowd is as sparse as it's likely to get, Wen Qing approaches.  If Efol doesn't seem tired yet, Wen Qing is ready for her own examination.  It would be better if another trained medical cultivator could watch.  A few of her family members ready to run for Wei Wuxian will have to do.  Wei Wuxian doesn't know the normal methods for treating whatever might come up but will surely cobble together something.

"Do you expect it to be a problem if I'm using my golden core to sense what is happening as you are examining me?"

Efol does seem particularly tired, no. He has considerable stores of calories, like any well-prepared scout, and the work in this case has not demanded enough energy to meaningfully deplete those stores. "I don't believe so. Healers can freely observe one another's work, so if the principles are similar the same should apply. Nonetheless, I will be careful."

Then, if Wen Qing will allow, he will extend his healing senses into her, entering the wrist as he did with the others, before traveling up her arm and into her trunk. He'll be especially on the look out for anything out of the ordinary, whether compared to the physiologies he's accustomed to or those of the ones he just healed, but will also keep watch of her ordinary vital signs and tissues, and if anything dangerous seems to be happening he will retreat immediately.

The spiritual components and structures of a cultivator's body are more pronounced than those of a mundane person, the channels deep and well-shaped like the banks of a river.  Even when not actively using cultivation techniques they are aglow with energy, strengthening the body, but with the meridians shaped such that it's clear they could handle the greater volume used in cultivation as needed.  The most notable difference is the presence of an entirely new construct in the lower torso.  Sun-bright and complex, cradled in the lower dantian, it creates and stores energy as well as allowing for its conscious manipulation.

Wen Qing in particular is chronically under stress in this place, both physical and emotional, though nowhere close to the point of leading to a downward spiral.  She focuses attention to what she can pick up with her cultivation, trying to sense his attention.  It doesn't look like there are any negative effects so far.

"Fascinating..." Efol's attention is shining, similar to Wen Qing's novel pseudo-organ, presumably the golden core she spoke of. It emanates from him in waves, passing through the channels and avenues of her body, even the tiniest ones, and echoes of whatever it encounters reverberate back out of her and return to him.

"Structures like these are certainly unknown to me, though at least their silhouette is understandable at a glance. With the information I've gained from this observation, I believe I could navigate around them successfully, though until I know more about the process of their formation, I would be improvising a great deal if I tried to operate directly on them"

The spiritual components of a person are even more strongly influenced by emotions than the physical body, and there's a noticeable decrease in tension through them when she determines the observation is safe and relaxes.  "It's quite dangerous for us to try operating on them as well," she says.  "Much of our knowledge in keeping cultivators in good health is focused around building stable golden cores to begin with."  A faint thrum of pride flows through her.  She is in fact skilled enough to operate on them.  Not that she is going to tell him anything about it.

Efol could probably study the fluctuations and flexurations of Wen Qing's spiritual channels and organs for days. A part of him thinks he should, that this is some secret part of the human legacy that the people of Dominion have been denied, and he needs to uncover it all for when the Shapers send the rescue operation.

If they send a rescue operation.

The thought that he may be stranded here permanently, at the will of the shaper he saw before his departure, abruptly halts that particular urge. If he never returns home, there is no one for him to return this information too. Now that they've confirmed what he can safely do to heal someone with such a golden core, he retracts his healing senses.

But, even so, Efol is a curious soul, just like every Lathern is, so he will still ask, "Are you free to share any of that knowledge with me?"