Tengir had not been in the Second World for more than a year when he set off on a journey to reckon all the districts within the four seas. With no possessions but his clothes, his weapons and tools, and the enchanted Sack he had gotten so long ago, he followed the river wherever it might take him. He said to his heart: "The river flows. But whence does it flow? It does not merely flow, it flows out of some source" He felt a deep longing.
The seasons changed, first to summer, next to autumn and finally to winter. In that time he followed the river through the forest, the bog, the valleys of uncountable mountains, the grassy plains and the desert. When he reached the other side of the desert, it was spring again. He found that the river flowed out of a broad and strangely-shaped lake, where the desert turned into a lush grassland. He had come to the lake from the south, and to the north of the lake there was another river that emptied into it, but when he followed it with his eye he saw that it went north only a few miles before terminating in the mountains that cupped round the lake to the west and northwest. It was dusk, and he slept on the bank of the lake. The Spirit of the Lake appeared to him as he dreamt that night. Dressed in blue garments that swirled like the waters of the lake, he had these words to say to Tengir: "Friend, it was by no accident that you were led by that fateful river all the way to the banks of my shiny waters. Heaven has a profound destiny in store for you." Tengir replied: "Spirit, what destiny does Heaven have in store for me?" To which the Spirit: "Heaven decrees that you shall become immortal as the mountains, that you shall light up the world with your own inner light, and that you shall be the seed of unending life and passion." Tengir said: "Spirit, how do you know these things? I feel I am but an ordinary soul and not as you say." The Spirit said: "A celestial messenger visited me recently and told me these things. He said that you already hold the Stone-Splitting and Cloud-Cutting Swords, that you have already gained insight into all of Nature, that you have already aligned yourselves with the spirits great and small. Those spirits already favor you so much that they have used alchemy to extend your natural lifespan by resetting your years. Age and death will soon mean nothing to you. For you are to be a Lord of Earth, a Knight of Heaven, a hand of God, and use the great power of divinity to further the project of Creation--such was his message for me. He delivered this to me also, telling me to give it to you when you arrived." And the Spirit of the Lake held out his hand, in which there rested a wheel of blue jade about two feet wide. The wheel had eight spokes and was engraved with labyrinthine vignettes. In the middle of this wheel there was a dark niche that looked like it was meant to hold something. Tengir took the jade wheel into his hands and said: "There is a piece missing." And the Spirit: "Heaven furnishes one half, Earth the other. You will find it among the people. There is one more thing. In order to become a divinity, you have to study alchemy, more specifically, you have to learn how to refine elixir, manufacture pills and practice transformations." Tengir responded: "But I already learned how to do these things in the other world." The Spirit said: "You learned only the rudiments of this art, which is like one leaf from a great tree, or one blade of grass from a vast plain. For in that gone world your learning was sufficient for the care of your own body and soul, but you are one man, and this world is comprised of untold numbers of them, and women too. To learn the care of many bodies and many souls, you must become my disciple." The Spirit then snapped his fingers, and a hall made of grass and reeds flashed into view on the banks of the lake. He went on: "You must come here once every week to receive my teachings, and there will also be occasional guest lectures by esteemed divine alchemists. There are ten tiers of examinations you have to pass, too." Tengir agreed, and the Spirit of the Lake vanished. When he woke up, sure enough, the hall of grass and reeds was right there.
That day Tengir wandered the vicinity of the lake. When he went round to its western bank, he found a little village. It had less than fifty houses, all of them without walls and with only grass for roofs. Only a reed fence and a barrier of weathered menhirs separated it from the wilderness. It had fire pits for cooking and wells for drawing water and raised platforms for storing plant matter and quarry. The people, who numbered six or seven dozens, had pale but sun-tanned skin and black hair, and whether male or female they grew their hair long and had no adornments save loincloths made from the hides of furry animals and necklaces of beads and precious rocks. When Tengir came close enough to hear them speak, he found that they spoke to each other in a tongue he had never heard before. At once his heart was conscious of both closeness and farness.
When he went to dwell among the people of the village, he was welcomed by them with kindness and warmth. Every day he would go out with them to hunt and gather, and every night he would feast with them by the bonfire. And because the land they lived on was replete with every kind of plant, fish and game, they never went hungry. But they lived lives full of toil and suffering, were preyed upon by beasts and evil spirits and constantly buffeted by the harsh winds and seasonal storms. Though they were very fecund, the dangers they faced daily ensured that their numbers never rose any higher than they already were. It also turned out that relatives of this people lived in about a dozen other villages spread out across the region, all of whom paid homage and fealty to the King.
Years passed, and Tengir had acquired their language and customs and now lived among them as a brother. In that time he dined with the King of this country, named Child-of-Earth, and had much wisdom to teach him. He taught him and his people how to plow the fields and sow seeds, how to chisel stone, build sturdier houses, work metal, weave cloth and make silk. So they plowed the fields and planted wheat, barley and flax, quarried rocks and minerals out of the Earth to make tools and sturdy lodges, and spun cloth and silk into garments which they used to cover their bodies. He taught them how to write with letters and how to add and subtract numbers to manage the storehouses. He built a bridge over the river that emerges from the south of the lake, and it was called South Bridge. He then built a bridge over a shallow brook to the north of the village, and it was called the Little Bridge. Then, over the the river that flowed into the lake from the north he built a third bridge, and it was called the North Bridge. Thereafter the people regarded Tengir as an elder teacher.
But though they planted field after field of wheat, barley and flax, the plants would not grow, for the coming and going of the rain was irregular, and there were no channels for water to flow through and so nourish the fields. The people asked Tengir why the plants would not grow, and Tengir wondered if Heaven's cruelty towards them was not due to the fact that the worship of Heaven was unknown to them. So he went to Child-of-Earth with a mind to teach him the worship of Heaven and all the celestial Spirits. Child-of-Earth said: "We have only ever known the worship of the Earth, which provides us with plants to gather and fish and game which we take as much of as we like. What is the virtue of this God of the Sky?" Tengir answered: "Heaven's virtue is that it causes the celestial spheres to revolve, sending sun and moon, and rain and shine, on their due courses. Without these, no plant can grow by the hand of man. Among trees, some grow as tall as mountains, others, no taller than my knees. Among men, too, such beautiful heights can be reached, but not from the static fecundity of the Earth alone, but by receiving with open, reverent hands the boons Heaven offers with open, that exalt the Earth and Man with it." But the Child-of-Earth was not convinced, saying thus: "I should like to see demonstrated the virtue of this God of the Sky."
When he said that, Tengir took the Cloud-Cutting Sword out of his Sack and let its sunlike luster bathe the eyes of the Child-of-Earth. The sword shined no less brightly than it had before. Tengir said: "Let me put the virtue of Heaven at your service, Lord of Earth. What foe now threatens your people, and where does he live? Let me show you the light of Heaven." Child-of-Earth: "In recent ages a den of demons has been wont to set upon our men when they are on the hunt and our women when they go out to gather herbs and berries. They are all twice the height of you and me, stronger than any man I have ever known and have the heads and tails of bulls. If ye, Knight of Heaven, rout these foes of ours, that they never set foot in our lands again, then we will not hesitate to worship the God of the Sky as ye do." So Tengir set out to kill the demons.
But since he wielded the sword which the Dragon King had himself given him, the powers of Heaven were on his side; the location of the demons' den was revealed to him by divine will as a pillar of light that sprouted from the ground. He followed it to a hidden cave that looked like the thickly-fanged mouth of an otherworldly monster. The place was clouded by dense fog and a horrendous stench. But when he went in the light of his sword dispelled the fog and exposed every inch of the cave to his eye. The bullheaded demons, for whom the light was as poisonous as nightshade, charged at Tengir with coarse roars in their throats and swords, spears and battle-axes in their hands. But though they came at him by the dozens at a time, he cut them all down till his silk robes turned red. The demons that he did not cut down fled the cave and hastened for the lands yonder. When he had finished the errand, Tengir washed himself of defilement in the Lake.