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“Blessed accessories of all varieties. Come sway fortune in your favor with trinkets blessed by the very own Beucara of the seven jaws of the mystic mother themselves, brought to you all the way from the land of tides Nami-Kuni.” The short old lady announced to bypassers using what little voice she had to try to attract the customer to her miniature stand.
A small huddled-up figure of a boy sat on the adjacent sidewalk with arms wrapped around his head with the sound of sniffing and weeping emitting from him
“Young lady, come here. This necklace blesses one's body with great fertility if you desire-“ She tried to grab the attention of a couple walking nearby, but they passed by her without even granting her a glance.
“Sir, Sir. If you could .…” It was no use. No one cared enough about her simple wares, especially with how old her stand looked. However, the wailing of this kid wasn’t helping either and as a matter of fact, it was starting to get really repetitive.
“Shoo. Get out of here, kid. Loiter around some other stand, before someone comes and kidnaps you. Go scare someone else’s customers off.”
But he paid her no heed, just like the others.
“Tsk. I swear parents these days don’t bother raising their kids themselves-“ She stepped off the wooden crate that she was standing on and grumbled her way toward Zekes to scold him. But stopped in her tracks once she once got a better look at him She took a look at the poor boy, who had curled up into a ball and dug his nails into his arms. His cries screamed of a pitiful state of resentment.
“Are you alright, boy? Are you lost?” She called out to him as she tried to put a hand on his shoulder, which he immediately shrugged off.
This made her flinched for a second. “You got a lot of attitude for such a young man.” She commented tiredly, yet the boy still disregarded her comments.
“Listen, kid. I don’t know what has led you to huddle up all by yourself next to my stand during this busy time of day. But you are scaring off my customers and last time I checked jinn doesn’t grow on trees. So could you kindly step away?” She pleaded, but Zekes stayed resilient in his stubbornness.
She let out a weary sigh. “If I weave your fortune, would that cheer you up enough to stop you from crying at the very least?”
Zekes slowly raised his head revealing a snot-covered face and puffy eyes.
“You can … tell my fortune?” He answered in a nasal tone.
“Something of that sort.” Zekes watched her march back to her stall, struggling to get onto the crate again. He vaguely remembers a story from a book about traveling chosen from an eastern land of beauty and festivals.
“Do you want your future told, or would you rather keep gawking at me?”
“Ah, sorry.” He quickly got on his feet, repulsively wiping off his snoot on his arm as he made way.
“Ugh.” The sound of disgust escaped her. “Don’t touch anything unless I tell you to, otherwise you are paying for it.” She warned him before he sat down.
“If I remember correctly, it should be somewhere right here.” She fumbled tirelessly under the table, before thumping a heavy oval object dressed in cloth in front of her, all sitting tightly on a thick cushion. Wiping the sweat off her brows, she unraveled a large glass disk.
The old lady breathed a bit of pride as she presented it to him.
“Bet you have never seen diffusion glass this large before?”
She waited for Zekes’ reaction, but his once emotionally charge face had only a dull expression to give in response.
“So it was all a sham.” He said with disappointment in his eyes.
“Sham?!?” She repeated loudly.
“It is just a fancy-looking diffusion glass. You are just gonna use it to dictate my type of Beucara and start spouting nonsense. You got my hopes up for nothing.” He pouted at the glass disk.
“It is a multipurpose tool, kid. If you doubt me so much feel free to leave any time you want, it is not like I made you pay for this.” She reminded Zekes. ”Now put your hand upon the crystal and concentrate on filling it up with your raw Beucara and spare me of your mockery.”
Zekes didn’t protest, for she did only ask him to stop crying in exchange.
He complyingly put both his hands on the crystal and tried to feel as if little currents of air blew out of his pores. A small amount of dark gaseous fluid crept through the glass like smoke through an amber.
“Ah, that is good. I see you are well-rehearsed in utilizing your Beucara. That should be enough.”
At the base of the cushion, he could barely see a slab of stone with a concave surface, it was perfectly designed to let the glass have the freedom to rotate while it was on top. Skillfully, she balanced the top of the disk with her finger and began spinning it with her other hand. Slowly the dark gas started separating into clouds of 2 different colors, an orange-colored mass and a smaller blue one.
“It appears that you are a quite blessed elemetasis with a bit of sorcesis Beucara. A lil’ master of the elements in the making I see. Not much of a rare combination. Often people with your attributes are able to control and manifest a material, such as fire and wind.” She scoffed.
“I am not a little master of anything.“ He pouted. “Regardless, why don’t you tell me something I don’t already know.”
“Don’t take it so personally. I have seen many elementosorcesis pull off inhuman feats. A guy I crossed paths with once was able to become invisible by bending light around him. But if you think this is the extent of what I can do then, you ain’t seen a thing, kid!”
She rubbed the palm of her hands together as she murmured a prayer-like verse.
“Bless us with your sight, she whose jaws still ache. When the coastal breeze turned our tint blue, was it not you who weaved our clothes from your mane,? Was it not you who called for grief when the blood of our ephemeral protectors soiled the currents of our streams? Was it not you who taught the blind stars how to shine, so that the moon needn’t to lead the night alone? So who is it if not you that will guide this gentle seedling through the torrents of uncertainty, for it shall surely bear fruit in your great plan by your clairvoyance.”
The tip of her thumb and index finger from both her hands were now aligned against each other with the empty space between them adopting the shape of an oval flower. She gently placed her palms up against the glass just before a bundle of silk-like projections entered the glass. They danced and darted through the two masses inside, like a careful hand knitting a scarf, barely reducing with each emergence as the color quickly shifted from one to another.
“What are they trying to do?” Zekes was dumbfounded.
“This is not what is really important for you. What is important mostly for you is what color they end up tampering your Beucara into.”
“But they look like they are trying to turn it into something.”
“Beucara is shapeless, kid. No mold can redefine its shape, for it will always revert back to its most relaxed form. Just like the pattern of your eyes, the color is also unique to each person. No two beings share the same exact color and behavior of Beucara. Almost as if the strings of fate have already seen through your whole being. Writing your existence through shades our mind can only hope to decipher the nick of.”
“But as the great scholar Axtutan once said: “To guess at a being’s nature is the most essential step to its nurture”.
“That is why my people have dedicated their lives to mastering the art of revealing and interpreting this secret hue, in the hopes of providing ease to those minds whose thoughts agonize for what is to come. Like a shepherd judging if the clouds in the sky proclaim of an incoming storm so that he hastens the flock’s grazing.” She ended by enveloping the disk in the cloth it was packed by. “Now we let it rest for quite a while, then your destiny shall be revealed to you.”
The eyes of the boy in front of her were now gleaming in awe.
“How did you do that? That was so beautiful”
“Hmph.” She scoffed, before declaring proudly. “What else would you have expected? You are looking at an art that has been honed through a thousand years of fine work by the greatest of Sorcesis users.”
“You whispered something right before the squiggly line came out of your hands. Was that how you were able to use your power?”
“Those squiggly lines you are talking about aren’t of my own power. I prayed to the mystic mother to grant me her blessing for nothing more than a moment. It is through the mystic mother’s Beucara that weavers are able to shape the colors. She is the lifeline of all that we hold dear and all that we strive to accomplish. If not for her, our ancestor's refuge after the Great Ascension, Nami-Kuni would have never come into existence. And for that, we are in eternal gratitude, so the least we can do is chant our personal prayer.”
“You really hold that lady in such a high place. She must have helped a lot of people. Can you teach me how to do that thing with the squiggles? Please. Pretty please.” He begged.
“Sorry, can’t.” She made sure the glass was wholly covered in the cloth.
“Come on, why? I promise not to bother you again. I really do mean it this time. So please just teach me, please.”
“Sorry, kid. I won’t budge on this. So let go of it already.”
“Well then. I refuse to leave you alone till you teach me how.”
Zekes crossed his arms in protest as he pouted.
The boy was as stubborn as they come. His face was clearly soft and his hands were still smooth. The signs of an easygoing life, the life most kids are fortunate enough to live, but this one had clearly gone a level deeper as his entitlement spelled out how spoiled he was. A subject of unconditional love, which one could not blame him for embracing. But it had the unforeseen side-effect of denying him from learning how to take no for an answer.
A bothersome sigh escaped her.
“You can’t get everything you want in life, kid. Fate has given each of us our own share of capabilities. Just like how I can’t easily make a fortune by blessing items like those damned Aurasis users, you also don’t have the right attribute to do fortune weaving, even if you did only those personally blessed by the mystic mother are able to borrow from her powers.”
“But … I also have sorcesis Beucara in me. Y-you saw it, didn’t you?”
“Sorry, kid. But it ain’t enough to do you any good here. You must at least primarily be a sorcesis to have the knack for it.”
“This isn’t fair. I want to become stronger. I need to become stronger. If I can’t become better, then it will be so long before I can see his uncle again.” This train of thought was the result of his sorrows from feeling abandoned by his uncle. The truth is Rafik’s words managed to lodge themselves deep within his heart because, despite his childishness, a part of him knew that the reason his uncle sent him to Arobolus with Rafik was to become stronger and learn from him. So if that was all he needed to do, then he had to become strong as fast as he could, so that he could show his uncle that he was worth something.
“Don’t sulk on it for too long. Just because you didn’t have your luck with this method, it doesn’t mean there isn’t something out there more suited for your Beucara. You know they have a saying in Nami-Kuni: “If the Kunji vines bloomed every season, it would lessen from the beauty of spring.”
Zekes lowered his gaze visibly trying to make sense of what she quoted.
“What it means is that if everyone was able to weave their fortune, then fortune weaving wouldn’t be so valuable anymore. But the fact that we are different makes it so that can accomplish feats that would be nigh impossible for anyone else.”
“But my Beucara isn’t really something that can tell the future or cure people of illness by a few fancy punches. I don’t have the potential to become strong. All I can do is open up little rifts and run-” Suddenly he cut himself off, remembering his uncle’s words of caution.
“Hmph. If that is what this is about then …” She pointed behind him.
In the middle of the bazaar stood a well-built man wearing a baggy sharwal and a sleeves grey shirt imbued with red patterns. The man’s feet danced around elegantly as two long sticks with both ends on fire spun between his gloved hands. The crowd around him cheered as he threw the sticks in the air and spat fire from his mouth like a furnace, right before jumping through the same fire he spat fire and caught both his sticks mid-air in an extraordinary show of athleticism. He was one of the street performers Zekes was looking forward to seeing. It seemed like he had failed to notice that one was performing was only a few stands away from him while he was in the depth of despair.
“How did he do that?” He asked without even shifting his eyes from the performer.
“Years of practice and unwavering will, that’s how. That kid is the youngest of a lineage of ignis dancers, not as old of a tradition as us fortune weavers, but old enough that one could say they are the progenitors of their art of flame manipulation.”
“Huh, so lucky to be blessed with such a talented bloodline of ignis dancers. Not so lucky for me.” Zekes disappointedly sighed as he rested his head between his arms.
“Well, he most definitely did inherit the passion for it, but the ability to perform it, not so much."
Zekes looked back with a raised eyebrow.
“But how? He can clearly do all the jumps and stuff?”
“Tell me, what do you think it takes for one to be able to become an ignis dancer?”
“Huh?!? …. Hmm, let's see.” He ruminated intently while observing the ignis dancer perform. “Well, you would surely need to be able to breathe fire … oh, and having strong legs would really help.” He answered, eagerly waiting to see if he had answered correctly.
“Yes, one would need to be able to control fire and have “strong legs”, but more importantly he must be able to be one with the fire.”
“Be one with the fire?” He repeated after her the moment she explained.
“Don’t interrupt me in the middle of my sentence, kid.” She was quick to scold him. “To be one with something is for both of you to be able to accept each other without bringing harm to one another. It is an essential rule that is important for anything that wants to be whole and content. Just like how a sculptor must make sure the edge of the chisel he uses is only pointed towards the rock he is carving, lest he carves himself into the very same sculpture he was sculpting.”
She gave a pause to let Zekes digest her words.
“The boy was born with a defect that let the very fire he produced burn its maker. An omen that could only spell the end of this longstanding tradition with him. A curse almost as if made by design to mockingly leave him by a hair's breadth reach of attaining his one desire. He was ready to give his soul and body to the flames, yet they only rejected his touch.”
“A word of wisdom for you, youngling. I have studied the shades of fate for decades on end. Many say that fate is blind to pleasures and agony or that fate favors the virtuous, but from what I have seen it has a taste for ....” She leaned forwards to whisper the last word to him. “IRONY. If cruelty was an art, his birth would be but one of many punchlines. If people can laugh at the face of fate, then it is only expected for fate to laugh back at them.”
“And yet … he performs! Look at him!” She declared in amazement.
“Tell me what else do you see when you look at him.”
“But I have already-“
“Look, boy. Look!” She insisted. “Ignore your presumptions and see beyond the facade of an easy life.”
He complyingly observed with his eyes squinted in search of the core of this tremendous showmanship. Just in a matter of seconds, he was able to make an obvious sign that he had previously missed somehow.
“His mouth and jaw … they are as red as molten steel.”
“Right, right. Now look closer. Look at his arms.” She pointed.
“They seem … tight as if the skin has been stretched out. They must have been burned.” He deduced smiling back at her from feeling a sense of accomplishment at noticing such an unfortunate thing. The old lady’s slow nod confirmed his suspicions, making him change into a more appropriate sad expression.
“Scars can hold more stories than words and this boy’s burn marks are not much different. Days and nights, his family pleaded with him to abandon his risky endeavor. They used their connections to offer him effortless jobs, many beautiful women’s hands in engagement, and many more happy outcomes just to get him to quit. But he held on like a she-wolf holding onto the scarce meat she managed to scavenge for her cubs. Though his family loved him dearly they could not allow him to throw away his life in pursuit of the unattainable. So they came to me in hopes that if he saw his future, it would put reason into him. And though I was reluctant at first, when I saw a light kindling from his heart to his eyes I knew that even if he were to see his own self turn to crisps right in front of him his will would still refuse to waver.
“I pitied the kid’s burning desire, but also empathized with the parent’s worry.” She paused. “… because the joy of their children is the fruit of all hardships they are willing to endure. And to stand idle as this fruit rots is a sin against one’s purpose and existence, such actis only committed by the most selfish and the least shameful.” Her eyes seemed teary and her words sounded burdened. “As a mother, I could not let the situation stay the same as it had presented itself to me, but it is hard to change the mind of those who come to you with a sense of desire. But thankfully I needn’t do that cause when two people desire the same thing, a compromise can always be made as long as they are both satisfied. And what they both wanted was for him to have a long-lived happy life, and the only thing impeding between them was doubt, the weed that I had to uproot to let the sprout flourish.”
“I accepted to read the boy’s fate, but only with two conditions in mind. First, they had to understand that to question the strings of fate is to refute the very sacrality of the art itself, an act of disrespect against the Mystic mother. Naturally, they agreed, but when I told them that my second term was for them to support the boy in his aspirations no matter the outcome, they lashed out at me, calling me all kinds of slurs and profanities. I was quick to remind them of my first condition and how whether he is to be relieved or ruined is not for any of us to decide, but what he thinks of his family at the end of his life can be changed. Of course, it did little to appease them and as they were about to leave, the boy did something even I couldn’t have foreseen. He stepped in to make his own terms. He reasoned that if they were to see he would vanquish to the flames, he would happily retire from ignis dancing and live the rest of his life in accord to his parent’s wish. Otherwise, they would have to let him do as he wishes. The boy had been resilient on only becoming an ignis dancer up till now, so why the sudden change of mind, I thought to myself.”
The bickering stopped when his parent’s temper seemed to ease up to the proposal. They agreed thinking there was nothing to lose. I thought about advising him to reconsider and coming back another time, but I knew he wouldn’t have made such a risky gamble if he hadn’t already set his mind on it. I did what only I could do then and put his future in fate’s hands. You could imagine our surprise when the weaving read as someone greatly favored by fate, emitting a color keener to an exceptionally talented hunter than a prey of the hunt. The mark for a soul to thrive beyond its primal circumstance. It was a color far too grand and unusual for someone who wanted to participate in the endeavor of showmanship.
“After that, the boy silently walked away from my stall, while father wanted to curse me knowing that what I had told him would only encourage him to continue if not push him to live more recklessly, yet he had surprisingly chosen not to as to respect our arrangement, so they quickly paid their due and left.”
“It was not an atypical outcome to see for us fate weavers. Nothing feels worse than losing all the work you had put in by only a few words, but I hoped that I at least gave them the comfort that their kid wasn’t gonna get himself killed.”
“Later the boy came back to me alone, apologizing for his family’s behavior, offering to pay me from his own savings as reconciliation. Of course, I refused and reminded him how now that it was certain for him to become a great ignis dancer there are better things he can spend it on than an old woman selling charms in the middle of the street.” Despite his insistence, I only took no for an answer. He then promised me that he would pray to the gods for the longevity of me and my descendent as long as he can bear flames. Lately, he had begun to become indecisive as everyone around him suffocated him with doubtful remarks, he confessed to me. He had only wanted to spread the happiness that had once received from seeing other artists perform. But seeing how I fought for him, despite there being so little reason to, finally gave him the bit of courage he needed to properly stand up for himself.”
“Now even after years of trials and tribulations, even though he still makes mistakes, he had not missed a single day to show up to perform in ‘his favorite spot’.” She satirically expressed. “The surface of his hands had deformed into a leather-like hide, leaving them with the mobility of a crab’s claw. Yet when he conceals his deformity, but he does not do so out of shame, rather to keep his hands as an instrument of joy. For he knows that he must keep up the illusion of an easy hardship to ease the hearts of his admirers. He hides his weakness as to become their strength.” She monologued. “Those are the hidden signs of true strength. It looks easy because you had never felt the fire scorch against your skin. I bet, even now, whenever a sweat dribbles down his arm, it is from his fears weeping for him to cave into what is sensible. But his very being rejects it as if it could not have lived any other way. His core of strength was not gifted to him but shaped by his very own hands like a river carving the rigid stone to what its currents are at ease with the most. Just so that he can be that last candle that still holds the dim flame even in the darkness of the night.”
“In a sense, every other ignis dancer danced in the flames. But him,” She scoffed. ”he manipulates the temper of the flames as he barely lets them reach him like a gentle hand striking the sharp strings of a Shamisen to produce its dreamy sounds, making him the only one who truly dances with the flames.”
She took in a deep breath as she finalized her story, letting the sound of the noisy bazaar take over the narrative once more.
“So … what was the point of the story.”
“The POINT is that everyone has the potential, but it is the consistent drive to improve that separates those who protect from those who need to be protected. Only the tallest plants thrive, while those under survive. But if you asked me about it, you could do yourself a great favor by stopping this pursuit of power altogether. You are just a kid after all and all that power accomplishes is giving you more things to burden your life with. It won’t lead you to what you desire. I stopped seeking it long ago even though I was ever so close to becoming one of the seven jaws of the Mystic mother and despite all, there hasn’t been a sour thought about it in my mind ever since.”
The wooden crate creaked below her as she readjusted herself into a more comfortable sitting position. Zekes silently stared at the feeble old woman in front of him who was struggling to crack her back.
“Hmmm … what are you gawking at?” She caught him.
“No-nothing,” he averted his gaze. “… but I mean … you are saying that you were once powerful enough to become one of the jaws of the Mystic mother. … I am not really sure how strong they are, but from the way you talked about them, they sound like a pretty big deal. And I mean ….” He hesitantly eluded.
“Huuuuhhhh. So now you doubt my honesty? Shameless I say, shameless!” She let out a regrettable sigh. “But I cannot blame you for having such an impression of me. I have long forsaken the potential I once had and now I only remain as a rusty tool, made to use only due to convenience. … just barely sufficient enough to get the job done …. a sad old woman that leaves behind a legacy of minor acts of kindness in people’s subconscious.”
Seeing how his unneeded question ended up burdening her heart made Zekes feel guilty inside.`
“I am sorry for making think such bad things. I was only trying to think how I can get back to my uncle.” He lowered his gaze in shame.
“You have too gentle of a heart for the things you desire. I was merely reflecting on myself. All that I have done was of my own devices, so save your pity for those whom it can help.”
He lifted his head to the sound of her scouring through her pockets.
“There it is.” She cried out before producing a small stack of colorful light crystal panels with their ends attached to each other by a piece of string. The crystals dangled down from her hand revealing a collection of pictures. She pointed towards one containing a well-built lady with a thick white braid holding a bundle of fibers in her palms.
“That’s me back when I was still perfecting my weaving, in order to be admitted as an official fortune weaver.” She then pointed to the one below it. It was of a plaza with many waterways running in between, decorated with flowers and flags and filled with colorful tents that people gathered in. “This is the kunji blossoms festival, where we give to the less fortunate, in order to pass on the kindness the Mystic mother has shown us. It is also required for fortune weaver initiates to practice on passersby as to strengthen their connection and control of the blessing.”
Zekes’ eyes were gleaming with fascination. He only had a vague idea of what Nami-Kuni was like from years of reading through his uncle’s library, but it was the first time he had seen Nami-Kuni itself. Part of him wished that he could have appeared there at the snap of a finger.
“It looks … so different.” He struggled to find the right words.
“Different is one way to describe it. Every year for seven days, people would take up to the streets and sing folklore songs of the great heroes whose lives were forfeited protecting the land and waters of Nami-Kuni. The beautiful melody of the Shamisen would echo throughout every house and temple, while the needle-beaked lillas listened to every stroke of the string so that they could sing it back to people weeks after the festival was concluded. The smell of pastries would overcome the smell of the fresh dirt for the first three days as the bakeries would lay out the soyan root pats that they had been tirelessly growing for the last two months. Oh, what a pleasure it is for the mouth. Sweet and stringy. Made from the soyan bean’s sweet roots. Dried and boiled til the honey-like nectar spewed out and then hardened into a delicate glass-like brittle stone that just dissolved in your saliva.”
Zekes’ mouth dribbled before she even finished her sentence. The steamed milk buns he had prior, now felt more like stale bread compared to the soyan root pats she was describing.
“So to say it is different is to do it injustice. It was the life many aspire to live. So you could imagine my disappointment in having to work in a colorless city like this with the personality of a dead weed.” She exclaimed out of frustration, but no one paid her any attention.
​
Previous Chapter <-> Next Chapter

Just picked up a cub cadet xt2. Was all ready to go when I picked it up. Brought it home and did first cut and love the thing.
Now about to do my second cut and go to check the oil and I'm having a super hard time reading dipstick. Oil is clear and can't tell. I'm assuming it should be good since I only use it for a little over an hour but I can't get a good reading.
Any tips?

1 battery pack shows 12.3 between negative and positive other battery pack shows 2.40v between terminals. This battery doesn’t want to charge. This is a Samsung 56v 30Amp battery, anybody know how I can get it to start charging again?

Not sure this is the right subreddit.
I have a Kohler KS595 on a Cub Cadet XT1 - LT42 (Model# 13AKA9TSA10). I was mowing with it when it suddenly died and showed no power to anything. When I checked, there is a 20 AMP fuse coming off the battery that was blown. Replaced the fuse, and when I turn the key from "Stop" to "Reverse-Caution" the fuse blows. To clarify, the fuse blows prior to turning to the "start" position.
I read online that it could be the headlights, so, disconnected those and still got the short. The only way to prevent the short when the key is turned to the "Reverse-Caution" position is when I disconnect the "Engine Connector".
2 Questions: 1) I have a multimeter, but, not sure the best way to go about finding the short. Any suggestions on what it could be? 2) Would something like this be covered under an extended warranty (normally I'd call the dealer, but, its memorial day weekend)

Need new tires. Size is 255/55/r20
Driving: 6 mo sun and rain, 6 months winter with frequent snow. Don’t need a dedicated snow tire. No off road or trail driving, mostly to/from work, ~15k/year Vehicle is a 2019 Ram1500 Crew cab. Rarely tow a light trailer.
Top choice currently is Michelin LTX M/S 2.
Any other suggestions?

Edit: the end of the flexible drive shaft was slightly damaged causing it to not fit in the power head. Clipped the damaged portion off and now everything fits as it should!
I bought a used KM85R a while ago, and since I want to upgrade from my corded edger I decided to try one of the kombi attachments. Bought a used curved edger attachment, but it doesn't want to mount on the powerhead. It fits into my cub cadet trimmer with a similar quick change system but the drive shafts on the stihl and cub cadet are very different looking. Any thoughts on what's going on? The official manual says it should fit but some resellers don't agree. Thanks in advance!

I removed the 245/50/20 Oem Michelin primacy LTX tires from my 2023 SX Xline with only 50 miles on them.
Looking to sell them if anyone is interested. $850 SHIPPED.
(Not sure if we are allowed to post for sales here, if not I apologize.)

I just got a brand new Cub Cadet Enduro XT1. I filled it up with gas and oil, and it ran great. Within a minute or so, it started burning oil (blowing out smoke), so I turned it off. Turns out the unit shipped with some oil already in it, so I overfilled it.
Then the mower wouldn't crank but not turn over. I emptied the oil, put in the correct amount, replaced the spark plugs (they had oil all over them) and air filter, then tried again. Still cranking without turning over.
I found that the mower will easily start and runs well if I put gas directly into the carb. It will also start without priming the carb if the engine is already warm. But once the engine cools down, it won't start again without priming the carb.
Any ideas what the problem might be?

Reading the manual and it says 87 or higher. Says it needs less than 10 percent alcohol content. What does that mean. Is that different then just filling up at the gas station using 87?

I'm ISO the electrical diagrams for a cub cadet LT1046, not the LTX1046 or LT1042 them are the only manuals I could find online and the wire colors do not match.
Been having troubles with the alternator charging, I thought it was the voltage regulator so I swapped it didn't help. Found today a poor connection in one of the plugs coming from the motor so I soldered the wires together and removed the plug. During my diagnostics a yellow wire came out of somewhere that attaches to that plug, on the other side it's a white wire feeding the coils I'm just unsure were it needs to go.
Edit: white wire wasn't a feed, it's to short coils to GND to shut it off. I believe to have this figured out but am still interested in the wiring diagram if possible.

I’m at almost 50 hours on a Kohler Pro Filter, just curious when does everyone change their oil on cub cadets. I have the XT1 LT42 with a Kohler 5400 series KS540. This is my first riding lawn mower. Everything is stock since I got it new a year ago.

When I go to start my tractor, a cub cadet Ltx 1040, it won’t turn over. There is an audible click when I turn the ignition.
Battery and connections are fine Have already replaced both the solenoid and the starter
What am I missing!? Thanks!

When I go to start my tractor, a cub cadet Ltx 1040, it won’t turn over. There is an audible click when I turn the ignition.
Battery and connections are fine Have already replaced both the solenoid and the starter
What am I missing!? Thanks!