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

Cai Renxiang leaned on the hilt of Cifeng, the scabbard's cap planted in the hard mountain stone. Looking out over it all the sight of the summit seemed such a small thing, easily drowned in the mountain mist. In the grand politics of the Empire or even the province, it was a small thing, the summit finished a month ago. She was praised, but there was still a great backhandedness to it, for all that none dared speak to her face as one would a child.

It was not different here at the outpost of the Argent Peak Sect she had arrived at the night before, on the end of her tour. They had been respectful, and offered her their finest accommodations and cultivation chambers.

She had refused. This cliff was an excellent place to meditate.

More and more she found the tiny chambers meant to shut off the outside world's distractions to ease focus to be repellant. She could not cultivate, being blinded and deafened, or surrounded by distracting luxury. This was contrary to Administration. A high cliff or peak was best. A clear day better still. But the Wall did not see many clear days in this season, in this war, with so many spirits stirred to wrath and conflict.

Though to speak of luxuries, a night to clear her mind and shore her foundations up in the thin mountain air was welcome, given the purpose of this stop.

The scourging radiance approached. It did not hide itself. It never had and never would. It was reduced, and a beam of light refracted off into the distance from the blinding core. She had felt it clearly for two nights before this, but it was close now—close enough that she could no longer tell herself she was not afraid, though its punishing burn was not focused on her yet.

"Hoh, to make your mother come to you. When did my Renxiang become so rebellious."

Her grip on Cifeng's hilt became a white-knuckled thing, so hard that unenhanced steel would have deformed and shattered. Liming snarled in the back of her mind, the hot rage of the spirit spiking to an intensity that shook the spiritual shackles that bound it.

Light shone past her head, the misty dawn burned away, and there was only Radiance.

"If you had called me to greet you, I would have come. I do not think you have even made your presence formal with the base commander yet, Mother. That will doubtlessly cause him to be censured for failing to attend to you properly. It is not good for a ruler to break their own procedure."

She felt that heatless light, searing against the back of her skull. Mother did not immediately reply. In the back of her mind, a child gibbered in terror at the coming punishment.

Hands like pincers of unbreakable adamant fell on her shoulders, and Cai Renxiang fixed her eyes ahead. Steeled herself for pain.
It didn't come yet.

"There will be no punishment for a man whom I bypassed Renxiang. What has gotten into that head of yours."

Her voice was warm and amused, curious. It almost sounded human.

"Every ruler will not be virtuous. So all must be bound. That is why our strings especially must be unbreakable cord."

"Such an answer," Cai Shenhua mused. "A disappointing one."

The pain arrived, masked by painted fingernails running through her hair, the shadow of affection, wreathed in searing radiance. Cifeng's scabbard cracked and shattered stone, driven inches deep into the mountain rock as Cai Renxiang grit her teeth at the familiar feeling of fingernails sinking into her skull.

She resisted.

Radiance seared her from the inside out, it ripped away the comforting lies with which she had constructed to tell herself she was strong. Lies told so well that she had never doubted them before this moment

The screaming child was her. The weeping girl who had only wanted mother to love her was not some separate thing. She had not carved that weakness from her heart. She had only wrapped her in gossamer silk and plated steel, hiding her away, to be let out when she japed with her retainers. Her resolution was not unbreaking adamant, but warped and ill-forged steel.

She did not have a plan for everything. The world laughed at any such notion. She was not brave. She was not wise. She did not see her victory, in the end. Only a futile struggle that would drag down all those who trusted in her.

But the fingernails did not pierce her flesh. She felt tears sear her cheeks. She felt blinding pain, a pressure on her skull that made her feel like a porcelain doll handled by a careless child. Mother's fingernails did not slide between her thoughts, did not flick through her experiences like the pages of a book.

"Hoh?"

Then mother tried. She felt the meanest speck of effort from this distant reflection of the Tyrant of Radiance

She tasted blood. Cifeng sank half a foot more into the rock. Her knees shook like a terrified child.

It hurt so much more to resist.

Silk contracted across her body, and the bitter scent of fear sweat, and copper filled her nose.

Liming screamed.

Hate, blackest hate and mindless rage, the most unworthy of emotions. Hurled not at her, but at mother. The ragged channels of qi between them opened to their fullest extent, as Liming poured their power fully into support of Renxiang's will, for the very first time.

It was still utterly futile. That she could feel, those shears could still punch through with only a small exertion, the Radiance was far beyond what she could muster, what Liming could muster.

Mother's hands withdrew from her head.

Cai Renxiang almost fell to her knees, clutching onto Cifeng like a lifeline.

"Interesting. You give an answer worthy of a doll, but you resist as only a woman can. How you have broken is fascinating."

She raised a trembling hand to her lips and wiped away the blood. Watched the splotches of red fade away into Liming's white fabric. Truth seared, it ripped away pretension. She could still speak. "I am not broken."

"You are, in the way all who seek the higher realms are," Mother said. "I am broken, my darling Linqin is broken, my kings are broken, your precious followers are each of them broken, and so are you. Renxiang. The world is broken, and any who truly see the tears must rip themselves into the thread that will stitch them shut."

It was not the stark, language-bypassing not-voice, nor the casual, drawling mockery she knew from mother, but rather distant and almost thoughtful.

"Though I did not intend it, you have done well daughter, and learned well the lesson that the Emerald Seas took millenia and my coming to absorb.

Resistance against the tyrant is agony. It is a human's duty to choose it regardless.

Pain again, tearing, sinking into her throbbing head.

"But enough of that. If you do not at least turn to face me, I shall be upset, dear. It is most rude to keep your mother talking to the back of your head," Mother said, casually. Her presence, her light retreated, present but no longer focused so crushingly.

"Now, darling, I AM curious how your eyes see what has happened at that summit of yours. Since you've grown so rebellious, you shall have to tell me with words, hm?"