Threads Of Destiny(Eastern Fantasy, Sequel to Forge of Destiny)

Ling Qi let her eyes drift half shut, in appearance focusing upon the storytellers tale, she felt the cycling of her qi, the energy entering and exiting her lungs with every breath. Those little grains and and their barbs, hooking into her soul to peel away little pieces of her self and cultivation. But that was wrong wasn't it. Her cultivation was herself, and she was her cultivation. That was the truth of it, put into thousands of words in scrolls and lessons and sayings. Cultivation was not something external to oneself. It was as Cai Renxiang had once said, spiritual surgery.

Grains that hooked and grabbed could be snared in turn. Qi of wind, qi of water, both wore smooth jagged stones and grain. Smooth silk and fine sand, added to the riverbed as the watercourse grew wide and strong.

One grain in a ten thousand, in one thousand, careful and quiet and gradual.

She breathed in time with the words of the tale.

…So it was the foreigner was struck down, and though he died easily, he showed no shock, and with his last spoke the simple words. "Ideas cannot be slain."

"Elder," Ling Qi said quietly. "Forgive this impertinent youngster, but is this fable not too pat and simple? Even I see where this is going. Surely this is not the reality?"

Her words echoed in the gaol, distorting the phantoms, and she saw again the grinning skull of Huisheng in the shadows, gleaming in ivory.

Fables oft convey their meaning better than any study

"But they are not the truth," Ling Qi said quietly. "Where then does this tale relate to the mason's War, and the inner strife of the Weilu clans?"

She felt it more than saw it, the looming shadow, the scent of burning trees, the beautiful, terrible smile of the huntsman, whose shadow was the beasts, and who had abandoned all human things save violence and hate. Rats skittered over her feet, beasts prowled in the dark.

Black petals gleamed in the dark, yellow white teeth seemed so terribly sharp.

Mason's War…

Such a clean name. Cut and carved, as beautiful as any gem on display.

"Ling Qi what are you doing," Sixiang hissed.

Causing a distraction, she thought faintly.

And that blood soaked beast behind. Great Uncle, O Wild Hunter… Perhaps the Junior may like the tale that is not lies for children after all.

"I am not a child, I have not been for a very long time," Ling Qi said, and with her words came mist, her mist, the cold shadows of Tonghou, made larger than life by a child's memory.

Wrong and right. We are all but children in dark, when all else is peeled away. The Hell you have made yours is that of the Forsaken, alone in the multitude, cold inside the walls.

Ling Qi shivered, but kept her breathing steady as space warped, and she came to be only a scant meter from the looming skeleton, entangled on his pillar

Hear now child, the birth of the Dreaming Way. Hear now of the hell we knew in those days, the hell of kinstrife. Where brother strikes down brother, daughter slays mother, and community becomes massacre. Listen child, and know again the Wild Hunt.

She tasted blood on her teeth, remembered the nightmare, of sleek back fur and her teeth finding human throats, one of the swarm, primal and pitiless. They chittered out in the dark, her kith and kin, scavengers, vermin. Fires flickered in the far dark, the phantom of the hunter passed her bye, his empty monstrous smile a warped sliver of light in shadow, crimson and bloody.

She could hear the screams again, the burning again.

And she steadied herself. She let the wind and the water flow, and the grains collect. She had faced this Nightmare and made her peace with it.

Though hunter and hunted died, fangs and blades buried in each others throats, the hunt did not end, for it is never so easy. The Hunter had birthed the seeds that would become the Unity of Blades, the reinforcement of the oldest story of all.

"What story is that Elder," Ling Qi spoke calmly, tilting her chin up, not disrespectful but direct. It took all of her effort to remain seren among the cries and the fires, the phantom shadows killing and dying in the lurid light. Her teeth itched, and the taste on her tongue made her want to retch.

We are us, blades out forever against they who are not. The tale whispered by the nameless at the birth of time, the first story, the first division. Feebleminded and without imagination the Xi were, to simply repeat their elders' tale and call it their own, accomplishing no more than forging our chains ever heavier. But, clever junior, no more interruption.

"My apologies elder, I am greedy for your wisdom," Ling Qi said

The flowers growing from his eye sockets rustled, the thorny vines growing through his body twitched, and for one terrible moment, Ling Qi thought one of his vine grown claws might reach for her.

Strife, there are no words for the brutality of a people turned against one another. When fear and hate makes neighbors watch one another for error and wrongdoing against what should be. There was no mercy for those who had burned the sacred groves, no mercy for those thought to sympathize. Only submission to the Correct Way could be allowed, lest war come again.

Unsustainable.

The dance of massacre and flame, of frantic suspicion and broken trust receded, leaving around them the humid darkness of the gaol, and from the flames and blood stepped a man. He was not as the idealized image of the fable. His robe was red, his staff rough carved wood, it's jangling rings bone and stone. He was a gaunt man, golden skin tight against his ribs, his cheeks hollow, his feet were bare and caked in the dust of the road.

But there was a light in his eyes, a terrible and awesome light. It was not the crushing presence of Cai Shenhua, it was not even a physical weight. No the horrifying thing about his eyes was the understanding in them. She felt seen, as if she held no secrets, everything in her laid bare. It made her feel both small and hideous, like a rat in truth.

Thus came the foreigner, the man who had made himself an idea. The Pure One, walking from the West. He of the Eight Virtues. He taught and he walked without care for kings or gods, and he made no effort to hide his goal. He sought the Horned Lord, and he was struck down for his blasphemy. Once, twice, a hundred times.

But violence cannot kill ideas, they are born in men's minds again and again, even if snuffed out entirely, so long as the conditions for their thinking remain.

There, that was the seed he had mentioned. The fragment of soul in the tale. Ling Qi was certain of it, and was vindicated with the potency of qi she stole in that breath.

The Pure Ones Eight Virtues loathed war, despised cruelty, disdained want. This cruel illusion we lived in was our test, and we people of the forest failed it every day. Transcendence, unlike the crude hammer of ascension, was the path to a world united, a world in peace, and no man needed to wield the divine fire, needed to become the Hunter, to find enlightenment, and repair that which was broken.

In the world that was, there was no king or spirit mighty enough to slay the man who was an idea. For they had no weapon which could harm him, no shield which could protect them from his words. And so when he came at last to Xiangmen, none could stop his march to the Horned Lords grove.

Ling Qi saw it, this gaunt man with golden skin, and a serene face. She saw him die a hundred hundred times, each death more vicious and gruesome, more destructive and desperate and brutal than the last. She felt the echo of Law and Sovereignty etched in blade and wind and light tearing the world apart, burning forests, sweeping away hills like so much sand, tearing the man apart, but always, he continued walking. Barefoot, dirty, unbowed.

He spoke, and to the woe of the Priests, the Horned Lord Listened. For the last time would he raise his head, antlers piercing the sky. The foreigner spoke, the Horned Lord listened.

She saw the shadow of a titan, a mountain made flesh, a rack of antlers composed of countless pointed framed under the light of the moon, and a shaggy head that raised, might have been to nibble the lowest leaves of Xiangmen.

And the god bowed before the beggar.

The Foreigner left, to seek Snake and Ape. The Horned Lord spoke for the last time. Priests and Kings died then, minds immune to the words of the foreigner breaking under the chastisement of their god, and so the Dreaming Way was born.

Bloody and screaming, as all things are. Beautiful as all things are.

The words trailed off into a raspy, echoing chuckle that scraped at her ears, and Ling Qi found herself once again on the shore. The echo of his words did not need to be spoken. Even if things were born beautiful, they did not often remain so.

Time moved forward, always forward, and never back. Things aged, they changed, they warped, they rotted. They Ended. New things wore their remains like macabre cloaks, and pretended at reversal.

+1 Ending XP
+1 Motion XP

Such a bleak junior.

"Is that the wrong lesson to take, Elder?" Ling Qi asked, the rasping qi receded, no longer plucking greedily at her identity.

Not at all.

"...What did he say to the Horned lord?"

Clever junior, I am sure you will figure it out. Know only that neither Ape nor serpent had our Lord's humility.

Ling Qi didn't respond, feeling a slight stirring of frustration. "Thank you for the story Elder, how might I?"

Your own story. You clutch at the edges of mastery the animation of tales in your mist. I will help you in this. When you feel ready to spin the Fable of the Forsaken, return to me.

Ling Qi swallowed, and stepped through the gaol. She emerged gasping in the ruined temple, skin covered in goosebumps as she finally let go of her restraint and clapped a hand over her chest, trying to still the pounding of her heart.

"Crazy girl, trying a new method like that," Sixiang sighed.

"It worked though," Ling Qi said, leaning for a moment against a slim tree. "If he noticed, I was still operating above whatever he expected of me. I think he would have called me out otherwise."

+10 Spiritual XP

"And the distraction?" Sixiang drawled, clearly annoyed with her. "You think it's a good idea to interrupt a guy like that?"

"...I went with my gut?" Ling Qi tried.

The air before her shimmered as Sixiang materialized their face, just to give her an unimpressed expression.

Ling Qi coughed into her hand, glancing up at the sky. "Well, I should probably get moving, I already promised to meet Suyin today.

"Yeah, you do that," Sixiang said dryly, the image of their face dissolving.

Suyin had really put her mark on the house she'd been given as part of her membership in the upper five hundred of the Inner Sect. But, Ling Qi supposed that was the benefit of having something that was wholly hers.

The neat labyrinth of two meter high white and black rose bushes was a bit extravagant though. Luckily, she was expected, so the bushes, which on closer inspection, were keyed into the formations of the grounds, opened like a gate, crawling to the sides on wriggling roots as the paths bent to reveal a pathway of neatly fitted white bricks and a construct 'servant' ready to lead her inside.

Suyin's craft had improved. The servant was dressed in a pale pastel pink gown, heavy with lace at the hems, and wore a pretty white veil, with white flowers woven into its shimmering black hair. It almost seemed like a person. If you didn't pay too much mind to the mountain cat's fanged skull hidden behind the veil and the fluttering fans in its hands. Both were bladed, naturally.

Inside the decor was much the same, monochrome with splashes of brighter color standing out like bonfires, and the darker colors shading into deep relaxing blues here and there. She met Suyin in the girl's sitting room, with a bright lantern hanging from the ceiling it's light casting long shadows from the elegant and richly upholstered furnishings.

"It's been too long Li Suyin," Ling Qi said with a smile, looking down at her friend.

Suyin grinned up at her. She wore both the high collared gown Lin Hai had made for her, and the mantle she made as a domain weapon with that other fellow she called friend, who Ling Qi couldn't immediately recall. Her artificial eye shifted swiftly through a spectrum of colors, pupil shrinking and growing as her friend studied her.

"Ling Qi, I'm so glad to see you again. With everything going on I wasn't certain you would have the time. Would you like some tea?"

"Yes," Ling Qi agreed politely, letting herself be lead into the room, to sit down and sink into the plush cushions of the navy blue couch set on one side of the tea table. "I won't forget about you, Li Suyin."

"Oh, I know you won't, but we both have our jobs now, yes?" Li Suyin said cheerfully as a construct descended from a panel in the ceiling, it was like a spider, it's shell colored black and white, with a waxy pale human face rather than an arachnids jaws, and little graspers on it's frontmost limbs. It began arranging the tea. A little clumsy by Ling Qi's judgement but definitely a sign of Li Suyin's skill that it could perform such advanced tasks without her direct control.

"I see you've been hard at work here. I'm surprised you have so much time for your constructs given your other work," Ling Qi said conversationally.

"It doesn't do to ignore your passions," Li Suyin said brightly, sitting down. "But… my meridian cleansing wands need more potent impurity cores, which I can't yet handle without improving my cultivation. And the Purification Wheels… well it's just a matter of scale. The Sect would like me to focus on my cultivation instead for now."

Ling Qi nodded, her friends base cultivation often lagged. Right now her friend seemed to be at the appraisal stage of the third realm in both forms of cultivation. She knew Suyin's Impurity based talismans were very valuable to the sect, if her projects were stalled by cultivation, Ling Qi was certain that her friend was being showered in benefits.

Ling Qi took her saucer and cup from the table, flicking away a stray bit of webbing left by the spider construct. "Understandable. I admit, the capital was pretty overwhelming. It was hard to find a moment to cultivate."

"I'm sure you took at least a few minutes between every conversation to cycle your qi," Li Suyin teased.

Ling Qi pouted at her friend. "I am not that bad."

Suyin looked back at her patiently.

Ling Qi huffed, and took a sip of her tea. It was very bitter. Since when did she get teased by Suyin?

"Well, if I'm going to be attacked, then maybe I'll hold onto my gift," Ling Qi said with an imperious sniff.

Li Suyin cocked her head to the side curiously. "Oh Ling Qi you didn't need to, I-"

"I" Ling Qi said, looking her friend in the eye. "Saw something interesting, and wanted to give my friend a present."

Her friend sighed, clearly giving up on her denial. "Well, what on earth is it?"

"An human-like construct, built in the style of a puppet," Ling Qi said. "It was found in a clanless fourth realm craftsmen's workshop after he passed along with other projects. Since he had no living kin it all went to auction."

Li Suyin's eyes lit up, one rather more literally. "Really! How in the world would one end up in such a situation?"

The basic story learned in the outer sect wasn't wrong, but it did have wrinkles. "Technically he was a baron, who originally came from Blue Mountain? But never took land. You crafter types can get away with that, if you do enough contract work."

Li Suyin nodded in understanding. "Well some of us are very… isolationist."

Crafting cultivators could often be a little crazy, and if you were willing to just sit in your workshop and churn out talismans the rules could bend a little.

"Still this should be fascinating. I won't be able to use his work directly of course, but getting a good look at another craftsman's methodology should be fascinating. Ah, I'm lucky senior sister is coming over as well."

"She is?" Ling Qi asked curiously, spooning a generous dollop of honey into her tea. "Well leaving that aside, do you mind if I watch you take it apart?"

"You make it sound so crude," Li Suyin took a deep drink from her tea, showing no sign of dislike for its bitterness. "But of course. Can I ask why?"

Ling Qi hummed thinking back to the shadowplay, the phantoms in the gaol, and her own mist. The gauntlet huisheng had put forth tickled the back of her mind. Ling Qi had used phantoms since nearly the beginning, first the shadows in the mist of the Forgotten Vale and then the revelers of Lunar Revelry. Now even she worked through the more complex constructs of the Beast King's Savage Dirge.

"...I suppose I'm just looking for insights on the cultivation of construct arts."

"It's not quite the same," Li Suyin considered. "But I'd love to be able to help you! Do you have any idea what you're looking for?"

[ ] Coordination, making the disparate cacophony into a cohesive melody
[ ] Complexity, weaving a smoother song from simpler measures

This is a choice effecting the final form of the Phantasmal Mastery Trait