Tian groaned and pulled himself into a lotus pose. It was as easy and as comfortable for him as sitting in a chair, and after so many years of meditation, he hardly noticed himself doing it. Instead, he turned his attention to capturing the feeling he found in the illusory battlefield. But how do you consciously understand something you experienced in a moment of no-thought?
It was a feeling. A sense of simply moving with what the world gave you. It wasn’t quite what his father did, or at least, he hadn’t reached the same level of insight into the art. Tian felt that his utilization of the technique still leaned into aggression. It was that part of him that never forgot what it was to be small, and hurting, and weak. Desperate to kill anything that might hurt him worse, or to hide from it. Physical pain, emotional pain, didn’t matter. All problems would be resolved by fight or flight. Fighting with the art of effortless action was neither.
He was starting to wonder if it was even fighting. He remembered forgetting his arts. The vital energy cycle flowed without conscious direction, his body following the path practice had worn into his bones. Even something like Moon Crossing the Lake, which he only had a preliminary understanding of, was sublimated and made part of a single coherent expression.
Tian’s fingers clenched unconsciously. He was trying to grasp things, put words to things. Things that he struggled to understand even in the confines of his own mind. He was committing acts of violence. He was killing people. People he wanted dead. But he wasn’t fighting them, exactly, and at his peak, he wasn’t even trying to kill them. His presence, and their hostility, caused them to die. If one of the two elements was absent, they would have lived.
He silently laughed. “Maybe it’s the kind of thing you need a master to explain to you. What a joke.”
He opened his eyes and forced himself to his feet. He hadn’t been the only one meditating.
Around him were Burning Heaven and Liren. A bit further away was the crow Brightheart and his human companion, then to his near shock, Martial Uncle Gen and his swan companion also sat in meditation.
“I thought they had been eliminated before. And where are Elders Rui, Redmane and Deepwalker?” He was speaking to himself, but the Emissary answered him anyway.
“Your elders were here to escort you up the mountain. They tried their luck, but they didn’t have any real expectations of being accepted. Now, they are escorting the ones who didn’t make the cut back down the mountain. Simple as that.”
“Thank you, Emissary, you are very kind to answer my questions like this.”
“You don’t actually think I am kind.” The little bird hopped around, her yellow feathers cheerful against all the gray and muted green.
“No, but it was the polite thing to say, and I do appreciate you answering my questions.”
“Better. And there is a simple reason I’m answering your questions. Can you guess what it might be?”
“I cannot, Senior.”
“I’m a chatterbox.”
Tian thought about the sparrows he had seen, decided that the senior was speaking the absolute truth, concluded, further, that this was one of those statements that didn’t have a good response, and simply cupped his fist and bowed.
“Hehehe.” The sparrow chuckled, slightly menacingly. Tian couldn’t understand why, then the realization hit again.
“Yep. Reading your mind.”
“I can’t imagine why, Senior, it’s a fairly quiet place. Others must be much more interesting.” Tian didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. At the moment, he was leaning towards the latter.
“You have no idea. The more repressed someone acts, the more they are repressing. You would not believe some of the deviant, degenerate, depraved, morally indefensible if sickly compelling fantasies some of your sect mates are dragging around. Let me give you some examples… Oh, it looks like everyone is stirring. I guess they don’t want to waste any more time loafing. Next time.”
Tian looked around. Liren looked ill. Tian smiled encouragingly at her.
She flinched. She physically recoiled.
Tian felt a blade cutting at his heart, and couldn’t understand where it came from. She looked away.
“Later. Please. Not. Not with everyone… Later.” She muttered, not looking at him.
“It must be something she saw in the illusory array. I must have done… awful things. Said awful things. Damn. Damn!”
He knew that it wasn’t his fault, that he hadn’t said or done whatever it was. That blame properly fell on the Emissary. It didn’t ease the stabbing feeling in his heart. Liren wasn’t looking at him. She flinched when she saw him. She didn’t want to be anywhere near him.
“Alright, introductions! I’m Mourning Cry, and I’ll learn your names if you wind up sticking around. Or, well, actually I know all your names already, but I think you get my meaning. Yes, you do. Good. Follow me. I’ll lead you to the Windsong Pavilion. Well, I say lead, carry is more like it.”
Tian jumped onto Burning Heaven’s back. Liren stared up at him for a long moment, then jumped up too, sitting in front of him.
“How are you doing, Sister Heaven?” Tian murmured.
“Not great, but I’ll figure it out.” The little sparrow shot forward into the still misty valley. Moving so fast, the mists parted around her. The remaining candidates followed the channel, each lost in memory.
The trip was surprisingly fast. Tian didn’t notice until he happened to spot a small tree moving past in a blur, far faster than Burning Heaven seemed to be flying.
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
“Sister…”
“Senior Mourning Cry said it herself. She’s carrying us. The wind we are flying in is moving much, much faster than it seems.”
Tian tried to think of how that could work, and nothing came together. His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton and sharp needles. Meditation escaped him. He couldn’t think things through, but he couldn’t let it go either.
Liren had looked at him and flinched. She recoiled from him. She didn’t want to look at him, or speak to him. It definitely wasn’t his fault. He was sure they could talk out whatever was bothering her. Why did it hurt so much? Why did it feel like he was stabbed and had a head full of cotton and sharp needles?
Mourning Cry led them through the valley in seconds, then up along sheer cliffs, over forests of swaying pines with such a depth of wood qi that they made Tian lightheaded. The qi density grew heavier as they climbed higher. He could see stones gleaming with minerals he couldn’t name, guarded by fierce beasts. Two headed birds, snakes with feathers or two tails or strange heads and seven eyes. Nothing he could easily put a name to.
There was a great ape, sprawled on top of the canopy of some heavenly tree. Tian could see he was wearing something on his chest, something between armor and the decorative brocade on an official’s state robes. The ape didn’t jump up or roar at them, but even at their height, Tian could feel the ape’s eyes on them. Cool, reserved, and with a strength of earth qi and shen that told Tian he would be wise indeed to walk wide of that senior’s territory, should he ever come this way again.
It seemed that the White Peacock’s name carried a high degree of deterrence, but it wasn’t unlimited. The mountain had other hegemons. Perhaps the ape belonged to another faction.
Or maybe the ape lord would just beat up any unaffiliated persons dumb enough to stray onto his turf. Tian could barely hang on to the thoughts long enough to reach a logical conclusion. He just focused on the passing mountainside, on Mourning Cry, on anything but Liren and the memory of her flinching.
Up the mountain they flew, until they reached a stone ledge. The Windsong Pavilion was a five story pagoda, with nine sides. Black tile roofs swept out in gentle curves, a subtle glaze shimmering on them. The walls were painted a dull red, but threads of color, blues and golds, could faintly be seen. The pagoda seemed to emerge from the ledge like a natural wonder, carelessly born into the world and bringing an entire garden with it.
You could smell the fragrance of the trees and herbs from tens of yards away. The wood and earth qi converged here, suppressed by the pagoda. Tian’s cultivation was roaring along, each breath like a potent medicine. It was too much, in truth. He wasn’t able to take it all. Like sitting at a feast with all his favorite foods in infinite quantity.
“Alright, you will rest and cleanse yourselves on the ground floor. I will take you to see my mistress when she wishes to see you. It may be as a group or one at a time. Until I come for you, stay in your rooms and don’t wander around.” Mourning Cry dipped her head towards the door, indicating where they should go. The door opened with no visible action on her part.
“Follow the light spark to your room.” Then, having said all she intended to, the golden sparrow flew off.
A little glowing spark appeared in front of Tian. He glanced around, but nobody was looking his way. He waited for the seniors to go ahead, then walked in. He wanted to look at Liren, to ask her to speak to him, to explain everything to him, but he couldn’t. He didn’t dare to even turn his head.
Eyes fixed forward, he walked through the reception hall without seeing it, down the hallway, and straight into the most comfortable room he had ever visited. Not seeing the beautiful paintings of immortal mists wreathing pine forests, or the ingeniously carved wooden sculpture of a royal court feasting in a garden, or the flower arrangement that carried its own daoist charm.
There was a basin full of warm water, and a soft towel folded on a table next to it. Tian didn’t feel particularly dirty, but he stripped off anyway. Mechanically, he dipped a soft linen rag in the water and wiped the dust of the day away. The towel was exceptionally soft. He didn’t have much experience with towels, but this was warm, and he could dig his fingers into the thick pile of the cloth and smell the faint aroma of flowers that clung to it.
He put on his best robes, sat on the bed, and waited, watching the door.
Liren had flinched when she looked at him. She had recoiled. She didn’t want to sit near him, or talk to him. The person he wanted to spend eternity with, didn’t want to spend a second longer around him.
The white jade rosary slowly worked through his fingers, each bead marking a cycle of breathing. He half closed his eyes, and tried to visualize the cosmos tree of the Advent of Spring. Just being a tree, reaching for the sun. Nothing else. Just a tree.
“No little birds are going to roost in you, you know, no matter how much of a tree you become.” There was a giggle in Mourning Cry’s voice, as she spoke through the door. Tian did his best to control his murderous impulse. He knew it would be noticed, and mocked.
“Aww, touched a sore spot? It’s not as bad as you think. Maybe. Possibly. Depends how it goes. Ah well, who said cultivation was safe, or easy, or fair? Come on, the Mistress will see you now.”
The little golden bird led him to the stairs, and then upward to the top floor of the pagoda. The top floor was a single open room without walls or windows, open to the sky. Soft carpets were scattered around, as were dwarf trees, plush cushions and low tables, a qin, scrolls of calligraphy dangling on threads from the rafters, and in the middle of it all was a rather ordinary looking lark, perched on a dwarf plum tree.
The Dawnlight Lark was a soft, tawny brown, with a white belly, a short, stout bill, and beady black eyes. It also had the kind of presence and charisma that made you want to kneel and genuflect. Not common in larks, in Tian’s experience. He had to reconsider what it meant to be domineering. If the senior could do it while being no bigger than his hand, perhaps you didn’t actually need to be six foot one.
The bird made a cheerful trilling laugh, and despite the evidence of his eyes, Tian would have sworn the flowers burst into bloom and the sun rose again in the east, despite it being well past noon.
“Don’t kid yourself. Six foot one is an excellent height for a human. Wood qi, with water underlying, Immortal Saint Lotus Physique or some such similar, and Advent of Spring. Foundations fit for a heavenly pagoda, an impressively strong mind, and the ability to shine under immense pressure. And you are ruthless enough. Ruthless is not the same as cruel, as you well know. I approve of ruthlessness.”
She tilted her head to one side, observing him.
“I can further deepen your foundations, and elevate you to the peak of the Earthly realm in, oh, six months or so. Two years if you just quietly cultivated in my garden. It wouldn’t take much investment on my part to elevate you. I’d be able to pass on some arts you simply cannot imagine, and help set you on your true dao path. The dao guidance is the true gem of my tutelage. Without it, you might reach the Heavenly Realm but you won’t make it past that. Consider this your chance to have a significant future.”
Tian bowed deferentially. “The Senior is mighty. May this little daoist know the price for her favor?”
“Not much. You would worship me as your master, conforming to my rules and maintaining a filial heart. You would worship the White Peacock as your grand master, and take the Myriad Colors faction as your new, and eternal, home.”
Tian nodded, waiting for the rest of it. The lark slightly nodded her head. “And, of course, that includes severing all relations with the Ancient Crane Monastery, and everyone in it. Which shouldn’t be too much of a burden for you, given that they murdered your family, and you.”
Tian had to blink at the lark’s declaration. It was a strategic error. While his eyes were closed, his mouth jumped out ahead of his brain.
“Senior, what idiots have you met that would take that deal?”