"Alright," she said determinedly. "Sixiang, Hanyi, we're going to split up. Don't worry about trying to look at everything just… look for things that interest you." She had a feeling that would be enough in a place like this. Sixiang gave her a nod, and Hanyi grumbled rebelliously but didn't disagree.
Not an academic eh, Hanyi?
"What about us?" Zhengui asked, his stubby legs kicking uselessly from his spot under Hanyi's arm.
"You two will be coming with me," Ling Qi replied, reaching down to take him from Hanyi. "Big Sister is going to start teaching you to read."
It was just good practice to do two things at once if you could. She considered trying to cultivate as well… but something told her that it wouldn't work, she wasn't exactly wholly herself right now, given that her body was still back on the mountain.
=.="
This is why people think you're a kite.
Yet she was still surprised the first time she plucked out a song from the flames and found it written in a wholly foreign tongue, if one that was still familiar to her. She remembered deciphering at Li Suyin's side as they translated the book she had taken from that shaman. It was the language of the Hill tribes, if Ling Qi recalled, people who had dwelled in Emerald Seas in the long past.
...However, that didn't seem right, the more she looked, the more she found works that were a strange dialect that seemed to mix the Imperial tongue with the Hill languages. She found poems in that tongue that were marked with dates from under the current dynasty even, no more than a half a millennia old, though they were few indeed.
Oh, the shaman.
The picture they painted was a strange one; of a people who wandered and settled depending on the season. Who sang songs to spirits of wind and rain, and played games of riddles and wordplay with terrestrial spirits to barter for boons and cultivation. She found herself laughing at silly scraps of legends about silver tongued tricksters and clever hunters. She found less cheerful songs as well, written in a strange ritual cadence and whispering of clashes with the Horned Gods of the Deep Groves.
The native people of the hills of the Emerald Seas
Newer stories praised the sun and moon, and spoke of the Weilu more as strange neighbors than monsters in the dark, then as allies against the Cloud Tribes of the south. The songs took a turn for the dark though as they grew more modern. Songs of everyday life turned into melodies of war, and then subjugation, pages filled with venom for the conquering Xi, from there the stories began to disappear, and the songs and poems dwindled in number, growing more melancholy and full of nostalgia for the lost past with every year.
They made nice with the Weilu, they were friends against outside foes.
And then the Weilu vanished and the Xi destroyed them.
Oh yes, I think I can see why the shaman was Fuck Everything.
They weren't the only ones either. Hanyi brought her a book of rough charcoal illustrations in a foreign style, depicting a people that lived in the high snowy mountains who worshipped the lethal and beautiful spirits that lived there and cultivated through exposure to the fierce blizzards that raged on icy peaks.
Ling Qi had found Hanyi's finds interesting but… a little disturbing frankly. The unnamed mountain peoples had been rather explicit in their depictions of the various self mutilations that were part and parcel to their cultivation. She didn't think herself squeamish but… no she didn't feel regret in knowing that those traditions weren't a thing any more among civilized people. She would remember to be much more cautious with spirits like her mentor Zeqing if she encountered them away from the Empire's influence though.
Cultivation is all about cutting away bits of your humanity.
I guess they took it literally.
When she at last emerged from the archive with her spirits, Ling Qi held only a work, a scroll made from many hundreds of wooden strips bound together and rolled up. It held a a long form poem, one that she had found many, many different versions of spanning a great deal of time. In varying forms it told the tale of a hero king figure and his two companions, who played the spirits of the land and mighty beasts against each other to attain. They defeated some and won bargains from others, assuring the prosperity of the kings people.
The details varied depending on the version, sometimes the kings companions were human, sometimes they were spirits, or something in between. The kings name and the exact nature of the spirits he bargained with and antagonized changed as well. This version however was the oldest one that had seemed 'complete' to her.
...Epic of Gilgamesh?
The Grinning Moon… had taken a seat atop the shoulder of the frozen scholar, balanced impossibly despite her size. The man's still features were marked by glowing lines of fluorescent ink, irreverently scribbled.
"...Is that still going to be there when we leave?" Ling Qi asked with some concern, looking to the veiled spirit.
"Not in a way anyone will notice," replied the Grinning Moon. "Well, not right away. I'm sure our guy here will go get the bad fortune cleansed after a week or two."
Its bad luck to burn books after all.
Grinning Moon helping!
The Dreaming stood, surrounded by a cloud of dying embers, humming a faint melody that sounded familiar and foreign all at once.
The Dreaming Moon inhaled, and the embers and lights around her rushed in, vanishing in an instant.
Nothing truly lost forever.
Things live on in dreams.
So many of her successes had come from dealing with spirits that it seemed foolish to lose any wisdom relating to the subject. She was hardly a master of wordplay, but studying the poems and songs back there… she felt like it gave her some insight into the behavior of spirits that the sort of rote genuflection, appeasement or exorcism more common today lacked.
Knowing the spirits as people helps.
Rote actions can only achieve rote results.
That wasn't her only reason either. "The ones who wrote this… they weren't barbarians, not really. So it's a shame for everything to fade away. This poem seems like the root of a lot of their ideas so, it's the best for getting them out there, isn't it?" The Manual she had taken from the shaman showed that they had a darker side too, one better lost, but… Ling Qi couldn't help but remember the little horrors of the city they were in now and at some of the things she had glimpsed and seen hinted at in the archive, and in the Bloody Moon's dream. Even the Empire had its darker sides.
I think she's seeing the 'junk' in the shaman's pouch in a whole new light now.
She does remember, right?
The Dreaming Moon stepped forward, accepting the scroll with a thoughtful hum. "Not a choice I would object too, but… difference often breeds conflict. Are you certain?"
"You all said it," Ling Qi replied confidently. "Stagnancy brings harm too. Besides," she paused, glancing up at the stars in the frozen sky. She hadn't spent much time thinking about it, but… "Things are going to be changing anyway." The days when she only had to worry about herself were long over by now. Right now it was just her family, her household, but that was changing and growing, and seeing Tonghou again… she could only feel dissatisfied. Cai Shenhua had started to change the Emerald Seas hinted at in the archive, and her daughter was going to continue it. Ling Qi was going to be at its forefront. That was the choice she had made. It was about time that she started acknowledging it.
"Good girl," the Grinning Moon said fondly. "Just remember to keep your eyes on the prize, and when you sow that storm, do it for yourself. Don't allow yourself to become someone else's shadow."
"Remember the small moments, the little secrets that you create each day," The Hidden Moon added quietly. "See and study the world before your eyes, and do not fail to account for the little details when building your models, nor come to rely on them overmuch. The future can only be predicted, never read."
"And of course, keep the power of dreams always in your heart. You will not live forever, and in time your works will crumble and fade, but ideas and dreams…" The Dreaming Moon said quietly, the scroll in her hands dissolving into glittering dust that rose like a cloud of smoke high into the sky before exploding in a thousand directions. "Can always be reborn."
...this is going to be making a fuckload of merry hell for the province. Shenhua could actually use low level uprisings against her lower lords. Its a POWERFUL excuse to centralize.
[X] The sparkling many colored lights of the Dreaming Moon
{Trickster King's Devious Oratory; Offensive Social and Spiritual Buff/debuff Art]
Picking this mainly because we got nothing at all here, whereas SCS and TRF would yet last us another step at least(and even past that, they're still good). The quality gap in our social arts really can be seen, because we're chatting with Dukes and Counts with nothing but archive arts.