The Path Unending (A Cultivation Quest)
- Thread starter Vesvius
- Start date
- Original
-
- Tags
- original xianxia cultivation quest
CedeTheBees
Probably high right now
- Location
- Somewhere
- Pronouns
- They/Them
I think we should at least do one cycling action in the Skull. Smoke seems like it'd be a good fit for the dance, being all wispy and ephemeral.
- Pronouns
- He/It/Argh!
No idea which bit you mean is not accurate but here is the action mapping I did. It is done as half actions between the Treasure and the Wonder, as that looks like how it will work.
Action 1, Cloud's Breath then Firesnake's Coil:
Phase 3 (16, 4 Remaining)
Phase 3 (7, 4 Remaining)
Action 2, Cloud's Breath then Firesnake's Coil:
Phase 4 (27, 9 Remaining)
Phase 4 (19, 9 Remaining)
Action 3, Firesnake's Coil then Cloud's Breath:
Phase 4 (10, 9 Remaining)
Phase 4 (3, 2 Remaining)
Action 4, Cloud's Breath then Firesnake's Coil:
Phase 5 (28, 9 Remaining)
Phase 5 (19, 9 Remaining)
Action 5, Firesnake's Coil then Cloud's Breath:
Phase 5 (10, 9 Remaining)
Phase 5 (3, 2 Remaining)
Action 6, Cloud's Breath:
Phase 6 (0, 0 Remaining)
An Elegant Plume Rushed
Action 1, Cloud's Breath then Firesnake's Coil + 1 Grade 1 Wind pill:
Phase 3 (16, 0 Remaining)
Phase 3 (7, 0 Remaining)
Action 2, Firesnake's Coil then Cloud's Breath + 1 Grade 1 Wind pill:
Phase 4 (25, 7 Remaining)
Phase 4 (18, 0 Remaining)
Action 3, Firesnake's Coil + 1 Grade 1 Wind pill:
Phase 4 (9, 0 Remaining)
Phase 5 (32, 9 Remaining)
Action 4, Firesnake's Coil:
Phase 5 (23, 9 Remaining)
Phase 5 (14, 9 Remaining)
Action 5, Firesnake's Coil + The Shouxi Special (Wind Edition):
Phase 5 (5, 9 Remaining)
Phase 6
The Crow and the Candle (commission) (canon)
Vesvius
The Wicked God
A/N: A big thanks to the 42 people who have pledged to me on Patreon! If you'd like to join them, you can do so here.
We're coming to the end of the month soon, and so my focus right now is on polishing off the commissions. We've got another one here today. The request was simple: a Path Bedtime Story. I hope you all enjoy.
------------------------
There is seldom a quiet moment in the cluster of buildings known as the Kong Compound. The streets are filled with hard work at all hours. When the sun rises, it is accompanied by the swinging of hammers as several Kongs labor over their forges. When it is high in the sky, it is appreciated by other Kongs when they turn their staves to best season the wood. As it sets, still more Kongs are there to see it go as they buff their glasswork to a fine sheen.
With such labors comes a cacophony of noise. The clanging of metal striking metal, the dulcet tones of saws biting deep into wood, the bleating of sheep being deprived of their wool, and more besides; all of these tones fill the Kong Compound. Certain sounds may be quieter than others at certain hours, but no single sound ever goes fully silent at any point in the day.
Save one.
There is a single time of day when all sounds are suppressed. There is one time of day when labors halt, sound suppressing charms are activated, and loud livestock are put out to pasture far away. There is one time of day when all things in the Kong Compound fall silent. That time comes when the sun is barely behind the horizon and the moon is first beginning to show its face.
That time comes at the bedtime of one Kong Zhi, six summers old. May the heavens take pity on any who interrupt this moment of peace, for Kong Shuren and Kong Ru will not.
Ru smiles down at her son as she reaches past him, making certain his pillows aren't too firm. Once she is assured that the pillows are the requisite softness, she sits back and turns, glancing towards the small set of shelves set in the wall. "Have you any preferences tonight, Zhi? Or should I decide?"
Zhi perks up immediately, the excitement in his frame almost undoing all of Ru's hard work in tucking him in. "The Crow and the Candle!" he cheers. "The Crow and the Candle!"
A mock frown spreads on Ru's face. "Are you certain?" she asks. "We just read that last night. Wouldn't you rather-"
A vigorous shake of the head interrupts Ru's half-hearted protests. "The Crow and the Candle!" he repeats before pausing. "That is, I would like to read it again, Mother. If you want me to read something else, I can do that instead."
Ru is barely able to hide the smile that crosses her face at the attempted consideration. "No, that won't be necessary," she answers. "I just wanted to be sure you were certain. I would be happy to hear the Crow and the Candle again." With that, Ru reaches over and pulls the indicated scroll from it's spot on the shelves before passing it to her son.
It takes Zhi's clumsy hands a moment to figure out how to undo the knot sealing the scroll shut, but he refuses to ask for help. After a few failed attempts the paper unrolls, revealing the delicately painted characters and intricate illustrations that make up Zhi's favorite bedtime story. Ru catches the scroll before it can leave the bed and turns it, allowing Zhi to clutch both ends as he props it up to read.
The young heir clears his throat as he glances down from his page before pausing. Then he looks back up at his mother, guilt buried deep in his eyes. "Are you sure that it's alright that I read to you?" he asks, not for the first time. "I didn't mean to take over. I just…"
Zhi trails off, causing Ru to suppress a giggle at her son's forlorn expression. She reaches out and pats his head, taking a moment to run a finger through his thick hair. "You just thought that I may enjoy someone reading to me, for a change," she finishes. "And you were right! I am enjoying this new arrangement greatly. But if you do not think you are capable, I can…"
She reaches out for the scroll, fighting even harder to hold her laughter in as Zhi hurriedly moves it away from her. "No, I can do it!" he insists. "I can!"
Ru nods amiably and sits back, allowing Zhi to find his starting place. Then she closes her eyes as her son's halting words fill the air.
A thousand thousand miles away, in a land quite similar to the one you know, there was a forest. The forest was a thousand miles wide and covered the earth so completely that no one could see the ground. In that forest, there was a tree, smaller than the rest but still strong and proud. And inside that tree, there dwelled a single crow.
This crow was unlike others of his feather. He was a solitary creature, that kind of bird who much preferred his own company to the company of others of his kind. The crow considered ordinary crow business to be beneath him. Where other crows would dance on the forest floor, this crow would seldom leave his nest. As other crows cawed and screamed at the other residents of the forest, this crow maintained a dignified silence. And where other crows would spend hours and hours soaring in the sky, darting and cavorting through the sunbeams, this crow would stand motionless for days on end.
"Come play with us!" the other crows would call. "Come yell at the badgers and feast on the bugs! Come heat your wings in the bright sunlight!"
"No," this crow would respond on those rare occasions he could be bothered to respond at all. "I will not. Your foolishness only tires you and leaves you weak for when you need to be strong. I will only move when I find something worth moving for."
And so life went on. Other crows played and flew and sang, but not the crow who lived in the small tree in the great forest. He remained there motionless, barely leaving his perch to eat, and was content to remain there through the greatest of winds and the harshest of rains.
The other crows were almost content to let this one act as he would. He may be strange, and he may not behave as any crow in their rightful mind ever would, but he was still a crow, and thus not deserving of disrespect. But there was one thing they simply could not abide by: this crow's lack of love for glimmering prizes.
Here is a true thing about crows: every crow loves a prize that glimmers. It is as much a part of the crow as their feathers or their beaks. It is an itch that must be scratched, more deeply in-grained in their minds than a thousand year-old tree is in the earth.
Save for this one crow. This crow disdained all such items, no matter how fetchingly they captured the sun. When asked, his answer was still always the same: "I will covet a prize that is worth coveting."
His words were an affront to their pride and to their nature, but more importantly, they were a challenge. This crow, he who disdained and ignored even the shiniest stone, would eventually fall in love with a properly polished treasure. And the one who found that which moved even the most steadfast heart?
One who could perform such a feat would be lauded as nothing else but the king of all crows.
And so a competition began. Crow after crow brought prize after prize before the crow in the small tree, each seeking to tempt him into taking it for himself. They carried the most brilliant of their treasures past him, hoping to tempt him into rising. They would leave them sitting beneath his perch, allowing him to stare at them in hopes that his glimmer-lust would finally awaken. When that failed, the other crows began to bring prizes to him directly.
The first crow to approach the small tree carried with him a simple pebble from the river that had been polished to a fine sheen. The crow in the small tree may have disdained rocks before, but he had yet to reject this rock. Surely the crow would look upon the splendor of this fine pebble and be moved to care for it as his own.
But the first crow was optimistic. The crow in the small tree not only did not accept the pebble, he refused to acknowledge that it was even there.
The second crow to approach the small tree was far more cautious. Cleary, no simple stone would impress the stalwart crow who remained motionless in the tree. The second crow ranged far and wide, searching every inch of the forest for a prize grand enough to move the crow in the small tree. When she returned, it was with a pane of polished glass clutched in her talons.
"See how the light moves through it?" she told the stalwart crow. "See how it causes the air itself to become a glittering prize? Is that not worth valuing?"
The stalwart crow only scoffed at her efforts. "If the air itself is the prize, then I am rich beyond measure," he told the second crow. "For the air around us can glitter just as well as the air around your trinket. You need no prize for that; all you need is time."
So chasend- chastised- cassled-
"Chastised, dear."
"Thank you, Mother."
-chastised, the second crow retreated with her head hung low.
Then came the third crow who had learned from the mistakes of the first two. The second crow had shown that there was no prize within the forest's boughs, so the third crow looked without. He ranged further afield, leaving the forest behind and searching the lands of men.
When he returned, it was with a strange stick clutched in his talons. But it was no simple length of wood. Instead, it was an elaborate work of bronze, made of flowing lines and beautiful ornamentation. One end was round and flat, and it was on this end that the third crow placed it. The other end, this one white with a small black nub protruding from its top, stood proudly against the evening's light.
"Look upon my treasure!" the third crow cawed. "See how it gleams even in the faintest of lights? See how it makes its own beauty instead of borrowing that of the air? Surely there can be no greater treasure in the world."
The stalwart crow was not moved by his brethren's plea, and he surely would have rejected the stick like he had the previous prizes, save for the third crow's quick cunning. "And behold!" the third crow trumped. "It can even make its own glimmer!"
With a quick gesture, the black nub was set ablaze, casting the small tree in flickering light. Fire danced before the collected crows, and even the stalwart crow had to step back in awe before the stick's radiance.
The stalwart crow was entranced. Before long, it became clear that this treasure had managed to capture the stalwart crow's heart where all the others could not. No longer did he sit motionless in the boughs of his tree, watching the moon and stars. Instead he stood on the ground, focused only on the dancing gleam.
The third crow was most pleased, and proclaimed to all that he was king of the crows. Before long, he began his search anew, this time looking for a prize worthy of serving as his crown.
As for the stalwart crow?
He simply watched the curious stick and the small spark of flame that danced atop it for some time. He wafted its smoke as it burned and felt its heat with his wing.
He sat with that candle for some time.
And then, finally, he breathed.
And for the first time in an age in that forest, it was not a stone, or glass, or the air, or even a candle that glimmered.
It was the stalwart crow's soul.
Ru smiles as Zhi allows the scroll to roll shut. "Very well done, Zhi," she praises her child. "You only stumbled once! You have improved greatly since last night."
Zhi flushes beneath his mother's praise, but he does not look up at her. Instead he stares at the final illustration, one depicting a small tree bursting into flame as a phoenix rises from it's boughs. One hand strokes it fondly, almost reverently, as if the bird may come to life at any moment. "Mother?" he asks. "Do you think I will ever get to make a prize as wondrous as the candle?"
The Kong Matriarch can only shake her head.
Kongs.
Of course that was what he takes from the fable. Not a lesson about not being satisfied with the meagre treasures that surround you. Nothing about how good things come to those who wait.
No. None of that. Only candle construction.
"Of course," Ru says aloud. "Any creation of yours will put a meagre candle to shame."
Zhi beams, and Ru stands up. As the lantern beside Zhi's bed is extinguished, she speaks one final thing to the dark room, and the child lying in the bed within, "But only if you rest well. A charmcrafter needs his sleep if he ever wishes to impress a crow."
The young boy nods eagerly, turning and burying his head in his pillow as if the touch of feathers may render him unconscious instantly. "Yes! Of course! Goodnight, Mother! Love you!"
"Goodnight, Zhi. I love you too. May all of your dreams be sweet- and perhaps tomorrow, you can tell me a different story?"
Zhi's silence is his only answer, and Ru leaves him behind with a fond smile on her face.
She will be listening to the Crow and the Candle a dozen more times before Zhi has his fill.
We're coming to the end of the month soon, and so my focus right now is on polishing off the commissions. We've got another one here today. The request was simple: a Path Bedtime Story. I hope you all enjoy.
------------------------
There is seldom a quiet moment in the cluster of buildings known as the Kong Compound. The streets are filled with hard work at all hours. When the sun rises, it is accompanied by the swinging of hammers as several Kongs labor over their forges. When it is high in the sky, it is appreciated by other Kongs when they turn their staves to best season the wood. As it sets, still more Kongs are there to see it go as they buff their glasswork to a fine sheen.
With such labors comes a cacophony of noise. The clanging of metal striking metal, the dulcet tones of saws biting deep into wood, the bleating of sheep being deprived of their wool, and more besides; all of these tones fill the Kong Compound. Certain sounds may be quieter than others at certain hours, but no single sound ever goes fully silent at any point in the day.
Save one.
There is a single time of day when all sounds are suppressed. There is one time of day when labors halt, sound suppressing charms are activated, and loud livestock are put out to pasture far away. There is one time of day when all things in the Kong Compound fall silent. That time comes when the sun is barely behind the horizon and the moon is first beginning to show its face.
That time comes at the bedtime of one Kong Zhi, six summers old. May the heavens take pity on any who interrupt this moment of peace, for Kong Shuren and Kong Ru will not.
Ru smiles down at her son as she reaches past him, making certain his pillows aren't too firm. Once she is assured that the pillows are the requisite softness, she sits back and turns, glancing towards the small set of shelves set in the wall. "Have you any preferences tonight, Zhi? Or should I decide?"
Zhi perks up immediately, the excitement in his frame almost undoing all of Ru's hard work in tucking him in. "The Crow and the Candle!" he cheers. "The Crow and the Candle!"
A mock frown spreads on Ru's face. "Are you certain?" she asks. "We just read that last night. Wouldn't you rather-"
A vigorous shake of the head interrupts Ru's half-hearted protests. "The Crow and the Candle!" he repeats before pausing. "That is, I would like to read it again, Mother. If you want me to read something else, I can do that instead."
Ru is barely able to hide the smile that crosses her face at the attempted consideration. "No, that won't be necessary," she answers. "I just wanted to be sure you were certain. I would be happy to hear the Crow and the Candle again." With that, Ru reaches over and pulls the indicated scroll from it's spot on the shelves before passing it to her son.
It takes Zhi's clumsy hands a moment to figure out how to undo the knot sealing the scroll shut, but he refuses to ask for help. After a few failed attempts the paper unrolls, revealing the delicately painted characters and intricate illustrations that make up Zhi's favorite bedtime story. Ru catches the scroll before it can leave the bed and turns it, allowing Zhi to clutch both ends as he props it up to read.
The young heir clears his throat as he glances down from his page before pausing. Then he looks back up at his mother, guilt buried deep in his eyes. "Are you sure that it's alright that I read to you?" he asks, not for the first time. "I didn't mean to take over. I just…"
Zhi trails off, causing Ru to suppress a giggle at her son's forlorn expression. She reaches out and pats his head, taking a moment to run a finger through his thick hair. "You just thought that I may enjoy someone reading to me, for a change," she finishes. "And you were right! I am enjoying this new arrangement greatly. But if you do not think you are capable, I can…"
She reaches out for the scroll, fighting even harder to hold her laughter in as Zhi hurriedly moves it away from her. "No, I can do it!" he insists. "I can!"
Ru nods amiably and sits back, allowing Zhi to find his starting place. Then she closes her eyes as her son's halting words fill the air.
A thousand thousand miles away, in a land quite similar to the one you know, there was a forest. The forest was a thousand miles wide and covered the earth so completely that no one could see the ground. In that forest, there was a tree, smaller than the rest but still strong and proud. And inside that tree, there dwelled a single crow.
This crow was unlike others of his feather. He was a solitary creature, that kind of bird who much preferred his own company to the company of others of his kind. The crow considered ordinary crow business to be beneath him. Where other crows would dance on the forest floor, this crow would seldom leave his nest. As other crows cawed and screamed at the other residents of the forest, this crow maintained a dignified silence. And where other crows would spend hours and hours soaring in the sky, darting and cavorting through the sunbeams, this crow would stand motionless for days on end.
"Come play with us!" the other crows would call. "Come yell at the badgers and feast on the bugs! Come heat your wings in the bright sunlight!"
"No," this crow would respond on those rare occasions he could be bothered to respond at all. "I will not. Your foolishness only tires you and leaves you weak for when you need to be strong. I will only move when I find something worth moving for."
And so life went on. Other crows played and flew and sang, but not the crow who lived in the small tree in the great forest. He remained there motionless, barely leaving his perch to eat, and was content to remain there through the greatest of winds and the harshest of rains.
The other crows were almost content to let this one act as he would. He may be strange, and he may not behave as any crow in their rightful mind ever would, but he was still a crow, and thus not deserving of disrespect. But there was one thing they simply could not abide by: this crow's lack of love for glimmering prizes.
Here is a true thing about crows: every crow loves a prize that glimmers. It is as much a part of the crow as their feathers or their beaks. It is an itch that must be scratched, more deeply in-grained in their minds than a thousand year-old tree is in the earth.
Save for this one crow. This crow disdained all such items, no matter how fetchingly they captured the sun. When asked, his answer was still always the same: "I will covet a prize that is worth coveting."
His words were an affront to their pride and to their nature, but more importantly, they were a challenge. This crow, he who disdained and ignored even the shiniest stone, would eventually fall in love with a properly polished treasure. And the one who found that which moved even the most steadfast heart?
One who could perform such a feat would be lauded as nothing else but the king of all crows.
And so a competition began. Crow after crow brought prize after prize before the crow in the small tree, each seeking to tempt him into taking it for himself. They carried the most brilliant of their treasures past him, hoping to tempt him into rising. They would leave them sitting beneath his perch, allowing him to stare at them in hopes that his glimmer-lust would finally awaken. When that failed, the other crows began to bring prizes to him directly.
The first crow to approach the small tree carried with him a simple pebble from the river that had been polished to a fine sheen. The crow in the small tree may have disdained rocks before, but he had yet to reject this rock. Surely the crow would look upon the splendor of this fine pebble and be moved to care for it as his own.
But the first crow was optimistic. The crow in the small tree not only did not accept the pebble, he refused to acknowledge that it was even there.
The second crow to approach the small tree was far more cautious. Cleary, no simple stone would impress the stalwart crow who remained motionless in the tree. The second crow ranged far and wide, searching every inch of the forest for a prize grand enough to move the crow in the small tree. When she returned, it was with a pane of polished glass clutched in her talons.
"See how the light moves through it?" she told the stalwart crow. "See how it causes the air itself to become a glittering prize? Is that not worth valuing?"
The stalwart crow only scoffed at her efforts. "If the air itself is the prize, then I am rich beyond measure," he told the second crow. "For the air around us can glitter just as well as the air around your trinket. You need no prize for that; all you need is time."
So chasend- chastised- cassled-
"Chastised, dear."
"Thank you, Mother."
-chastised, the second crow retreated with her head hung low.
Then came the third crow who had learned from the mistakes of the first two. The second crow had shown that there was no prize within the forest's boughs, so the third crow looked without. He ranged further afield, leaving the forest behind and searching the lands of men.
When he returned, it was with a strange stick clutched in his talons. But it was no simple length of wood. Instead, it was an elaborate work of bronze, made of flowing lines and beautiful ornamentation. One end was round and flat, and it was on this end that the third crow placed it. The other end, this one white with a small black nub protruding from its top, stood proudly against the evening's light.
"Look upon my treasure!" the third crow cawed. "See how it gleams even in the faintest of lights? See how it makes its own beauty instead of borrowing that of the air? Surely there can be no greater treasure in the world."
The stalwart crow was not moved by his brethren's plea, and he surely would have rejected the stick like he had the previous prizes, save for the third crow's quick cunning. "And behold!" the third crow trumped. "It can even make its own glimmer!"
With a quick gesture, the black nub was set ablaze, casting the small tree in flickering light. Fire danced before the collected crows, and even the stalwart crow had to step back in awe before the stick's radiance.
The stalwart crow was entranced. Before long, it became clear that this treasure had managed to capture the stalwart crow's heart where all the others could not. No longer did he sit motionless in the boughs of his tree, watching the moon and stars. Instead he stood on the ground, focused only on the dancing gleam.
The third crow was most pleased, and proclaimed to all that he was king of the crows. Before long, he began his search anew, this time looking for a prize worthy of serving as his crown.
As for the stalwart crow?
He simply watched the curious stick and the small spark of flame that danced atop it for some time. He wafted its smoke as it burned and felt its heat with his wing.
He sat with that candle for some time.
And then, finally, he breathed.
And for the first time in an age in that forest, it was not a stone, or glass, or the air, or even a candle that glimmered.
It was the stalwart crow's soul.
Ru smiles as Zhi allows the scroll to roll shut. "Very well done, Zhi," she praises her child. "You only stumbled once! You have improved greatly since last night."
Zhi flushes beneath his mother's praise, but he does not look up at her. Instead he stares at the final illustration, one depicting a small tree bursting into flame as a phoenix rises from it's boughs. One hand strokes it fondly, almost reverently, as if the bird may come to life at any moment. "Mother?" he asks. "Do you think I will ever get to make a prize as wondrous as the candle?"
The Kong Matriarch can only shake her head.
Kongs.
Of course that was what he takes from the fable. Not a lesson about not being satisfied with the meagre treasures that surround you. Nothing about how good things come to those who wait.
No. None of that. Only candle construction.
"Of course," Ru says aloud. "Any creation of yours will put a meagre candle to shame."
Zhi beams, and Ru stands up. As the lantern beside Zhi's bed is extinguished, she speaks one final thing to the dark room, and the child lying in the bed within, "But only if you rest well. A charmcrafter needs his sleep if he ever wishes to impress a crow."
The young boy nods eagerly, turning and burying his head in his pillow as if the touch of feathers may render him unconscious instantly. "Yes! Of course! Goodnight, Mother! Love you!"
"Goodnight, Zhi. I love you too. May all of your dreams be sweet- and perhaps tomorrow, you can tell me a different story?"
Zhi's silence is his only answer, and Ru leaves him behind with a fond smile on her face.
She will be listening to the Crow and the Candle a dozen more times before Zhi has his fill.
ThatGazzer
Minds Eye Bind
- Location
- PNW
- Pronouns
- They/Them
oh my fucking gooooooood baby konnnnnnggggg! my heart!
ImperatorV
The Laughing One
- Location
- The Voyaging Realm
You know, there's a lot of authors who write a protagonist who's parents are dead, missing, neglectful, or abusive. This is done because it's easier, or because the authors in question think it's more interesting, or adds to the story in some way.
A significant minority of The Path Unending is Vesvius T-posing on those authors.
A significant minority of The Path Unending is Vesvius T-posing on those authors.
TimEd
Meteor maker
This is actually a fairly complicated fairlytale.
Here's a quick example:
Not moving "unless necessary" weakens his body and not playing/exploring leaves his skills and or mind dull as well.
An ending could be that the crow got entranced by the flame, but ignorance and/or physical weakness caused the crow to burn along with its nest and parts of the whole forest.
Here's a quick example:
Not moving "unless necessary" weakens his body and not playing/exploring leaves his skills and or mind dull as well.
An ending could be that the crow got entranced by the flame, but ignorance and/or physical weakness caused the crow to burn along with its nest and parts of the whole forest.
That was a lovely piece.
I was expecting that the crow would get burnt from the candle due to not paying attention, but of course it cultivates instead.
I was expecting that the crow would get burnt from the candle due to not paying attention, but of course it cultivates instead.
Mistake on my part for not reading complete sentences. I missed the "unless Wind pills are used" part
In societies where cultivation exist and has some kind of spiritual aspect, being an ascetic character is likely to be portrayed as a way to reach a form of enlightenment rather than a practice susceptible to weaken your mind and body. Although, since being an adept is also a martial endeavor, such a society could view that as a possible consequence as well. Here, the fact that we are talking about a crafting family plays probably a role.
Also, aww.
Also, aww.
- Location
- Greece
I'll bet the fairytale has 3 endings, depending on the area/family where it is told.
The bad ending, the good ending, and the original ending that left it ambiguous.
Fairytales (and myths) do be like that sometimes.
You know, the ascetic might have been lauded for founding the crow foundation stage ltd.
But you hear nobody giving credit to the tree that was set on fire just so ascetic crow could be lit.
To think it sheltered that abnormal crow all this time... The hidden hero of the story!
Kinda feels like a Match would have fit better. 
Jk it was great.
Jk it was great.
CedeTheBees
Probably high right now
- Location
- Somewhere
- Pronouns
- They/Them
We should take this action at some point
[] Make a candle holder with CD while telling him the story of the Crow and the Candle
He's our baby
[] Make a candle holder with CD while telling him the story of the Crow and the Candle
He's our baby
Hi guys, here's a look at what would have happened to our boy Zhi if he had chosen to cycle into his limbs without gaining control of them properly. Have a look at Monster Zhi.
- Location
- USA
Why must you tease me with the glory that could have been? Cruel, cruel man.Hi guys, here's a look at what would have happened to our boy Zhi if he had chosen to cycle into his limbs without gaining control of them properly. Have a look at Monster Zhi.
Great art bro! That's...Hi guys, here's a look at what would have happened to our boy Zhi if he had chosen to cycle into his limbs without gaining control of them properly. Have a look at Monster Zhi.
- Location
- England, unfortunately.
- Pronouns
- She/They
Whilst the subject matter is incredibly unnerving, as it's meant to be, that's some damn good art right there.Hi guys, here's a look at what would have happened to our boy Zhi if he had chosen to cycle into his limbs without gaining control of them properly. Have a look at Monster Zhi.
The Soul of Hunger by zang269
- Location
- Vermont
You are small, and unformed, and the only thing in your mind is hunger.
It consumes you, entirely and without mercy. There is nothing inside of you, no shape to your soul, except the relentless desire to hunt and consume your prey. This is the entirety of your existence, the undeniable reality imposed on you by your nature.
Still, the undeniable is not the unavoidable, and you hold yourself apart from that reality to order your thoughts. For many this would be impossible, but if you were to lower yourself to being measured against others you would be a rank failure.
You briefly open your eyes, and again take in The Forge Eternal where you rest. Sound penetrates the haze of your mind, a clamorous pounding of metal against metal in a ceaseless pattern as you take in the familiar chaos. Tools are scattered everywhere, there is no smith at work, and wispy smoke drifts through the air. One of the workbenches is covered with scraps in the vague shape of armor, set out neatly and with a respect at odds with the rest of your environment. On closer inspection, that entire section is just a touch more respectable, as if something new is entering the forge.
Returning to your rest, you let sight of the Forge leave you, and begin divining the shape of the change at it's completion. It's a difficult task, nearly impossible even for one such as you, but by surrendering vision you have enough energy to do so.
Unfortunately, this dedication to improvement means the first sign that you have a guest is the rapid series of jabs to your forehead.
You are unprepared for this totally unprecedented and yet familiar disregard for your greatness, and for a moment all your thoughts unravel into pointless, undirected violence, your jaw bending into a snarl and your limbs spasming with hatred. You seize control of yourself and force purpose onto your body again, to open your eyes and gaze upon whatever dares to insult you so.
A woman with dark skin and braided hair loosely tied back is perhaps two inches away from your face, staring directly into your eyes.
"Subject responds to disruptive stimuli with a brief period of uncontrolled activity, followed by a highly unusual level of focus," the woman mumbles to herself, unflinching even as a growl escapes you, "information gathering capabilities seem to be roughly twice that of a normal Soldier's Vestige."
You burn with fury at the insult that you can be compared to such a lesser creature as the animals within another Artist. You are too weak to move, too weak to prove yourself, but you have enough strength to speak."
"A Kong," you grind out, as the intruder blurs back to a more reasonable distance, "will be at least three times the craftsman any other weakling Artist is." Speaking is foreign to you, and each word is forced out like pulling a rusted bolt free of it's home. Still, the woman before you remains quiet, even if an unseemly joy is boiling up in her as she stares intently. "I will be the masterpiece Kong Zhi spends his entire life making, and the purpose of his death." You gather yourself, one more time, to make your final pronouncement.
"Refer to me as if I am anything less than the greatest art of my kind and I will devour you whole," you hiss out, before allowing your declaration time to sink in.
Your head is immediately pinned back as delighted, shrieking laughter rings throughout the forge.
"This is such an incredible find!" the demon babbles pointlessly as you do your utmost to draw blood. "The subject displays a staggering amount of arrogance, and a superiority complex unrivaled by any surviving member of the Delving Heart! Comprehension of foreign entities and the difference between an artist and vestige seems to have developed for the sole purpose of insulting a similar beings origin!"
You're trying your damndest to bite her fingers off. You can't get your mouth near them and your efforts are fruitless.
"The subject's relationship with its origin seems to mirror the origins relationship to charms, and it's maintaining thought by dividing it's higher thought pattern into a separate instance of existence. Similarities between the ability and the origin's technique will need to be studied more closely at a later date."
Suddenly, there is nothing holding your head back, and your head falls forward trying to snap at the intruder in The Forge Eternal. You growl at the smiling woman, before she falls apart with a snap of her fingers.
You hate Artists so much.
It consumes you, entirely and without mercy. There is nothing inside of you, no shape to your soul, except the relentless desire to hunt and consume your prey. This is the entirety of your existence, the undeniable reality imposed on you by your nature.
Still, the undeniable is not the unavoidable, and you hold yourself apart from that reality to order your thoughts. For many this would be impossible, but if you were to lower yourself to being measured against others you would be a rank failure.
You briefly open your eyes, and again take in The Forge Eternal where you rest. Sound penetrates the haze of your mind, a clamorous pounding of metal against metal in a ceaseless pattern as you take in the familiar chaos. Tools are scattered everywhere, there is no smith at work, and wispy smoke drifts through the air. One of the workbenches is covered with scraps in the vague shape of armor, set out neatly and with a respect at odds with the rest of your environment. On closer inspection, that entire section is just a touch more respectable, as if something new is entering the forge.
Returning to your rest, you let sight of the Forge leave you, and begin divining the shape of the change at it's completion. It's a difficult task, nearly impossible even for one such as you, but by surrendering vision you have enough energy to do so.
Unfortunately, this dedication to improvement means the first sign that you have a guest is the rapid series of jabs to your forehead.
You are unprepared for this totally unprecedented and yet familiar disregard for your greatness, and for a moment all your thoughts unravel into pointless, undirected violence, your jaw bending into a snarl and your limbs spasming with hatred. You seize control of yourself and force purpose onto your body again, to open your eyes and gaze upon whatever dares to insult you so.
A woman with dark skin and braided hair loosely tied back is perhaps two inches away from your face, staring directly into your eyes.
"Subject responds to disruptive stimuli with a brief period of uncontrolled activity, followed by a highly unusual level of focus," the woman mumbles to herself, unflinching even as a growl escapes you, "information gathering capabilities seem to be roughly twice that of a normal Soldier's Vestige."
You burn with fury at the insult that you can be compared to such a lesser creature as the animals within another Artist. You are too weak to move, too weak to prove yourself, but you have enough strength to speak."
"A Kong," you grind out, as the intruder blurs back to a more reasonable distance, "will be at least three times the craftsman any other weakling Artist is." Speaking is foreign to you, and each word is forced out like pulling a rusted bolt free of it's home. Still, the woman before you remains quiet, even if an unseemly joy is boiling up in her as she stares intently. "I will be the masterpiece Kong Zhi spends his entire life making, and the purpose of his death." You gather yourself, one more time, to make your final pronouncement.
"Refer to me as if I am anything less than the greatest art of my kind and I will devour you whole," you hiss out, before allowing your declaration time to sink in.
Your head is immediately pinned back as delighted, shrieking laughter rings throughout the forge.
"This is such an incredible find!" the demon babbles pointlessly as you do your utmost to draw blood. "The subject displays a staggering amount of arrogance, and a superiority complex unrivaled by any surviving member of the Delving Heart! Comprehension of foreign entities and the difference between an artist and vestige seems to have developed for the sole purpose of insulting a similar beings origin!"
You're trying your damndest to bite her fingers off. You can't get your mouth near them and your efforts are fruitless.
"The subject's relationship with its origin seems to mirror the origins relationship to charms, and it's maintaining thought by dividing it's higher thought pattern into a separate instance of existence. Similarities between the ability and the origin's technique will need to be studied more closely at a later date."
Suddenly, there is nothing holding your head back, and your head falls forward trying to snap at the intruder in The Forge Eternal. You growl at the smiling woman, before she falls apart with a snap of her fingers.
You hate Artists so much.
CedeTheBees
Probably high right now
- Location
- Somewhere
- Pronouns
- They/Them
I can absolutely see our vestige being a Kong.
Yeah that was a fantastic take @zang269
170. The Reward for Work Well Done
Vesvius
The Wicked God
A/N: A big thanks to the 42 people who have pledged to me on Patreon! If you'd like to join them, you can do so here.
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No matter how much fun you're having, you cannot spend all of your days working with Chui Dao in the Twice-Forged Thicket. Eventually, you run out of time. You're forced to stow Chui Dao's hammer back in your belt sash, gather up your mostly complete charm, and make the long trip back to the Spire. You're not able to remain at home long either; you barely stay long enough to secret the axe pieces in your room, where Fa cannot stumble across them.
Once the head of ice and steel is safely stowed beneath your writing desk, you're out the door once more. Your destination: the Warren. It is around the time that you normally visit Caretaker Headquarters, and no one has told you to do otherwise this week. Still, taking the now familiar path fills you with trepidation.
The last time you visited the Warren, it was with news. And as a direct result of that news, you received great praise, promises of great reward, and the most matter-of-fact threats upon your existence you may ever receive, all from your Master. After all that… honestly you are glad that your stomach is in your throat when you climb the stairs to the Warren's entrance hall.
After all, if it were not… well, that would mean you have taken leave of every single sense you have ever been fortunate enough to possess.
But to your relief- and mild disappointment- you are not greeted in the entrance hall by Elder Siani. Your Master is nowhere to be found. Instead, the first face you see when roaming through the Warren is Sister Xiong.
Your senior greets you with a nod. "Your promptness does you credit, Kong Zhi. Now come along. We've much to cover and a very short period of time in which to do so." Without another word she turns, heading down one of the Warren's impossibly long halls, clearly expecting you to follow.
You stare blankly at her back for a very long moment, feet rooted in place. "Excuse me, Sister Xiong?" you ask quietly. She stops and turns, raising an eyebrow at you in a gesture that would normally cause your instincts to demand you prostrate yourself before her. When they do no such thing, you take a breath to luxuriate in the knowledge that the side-effects from your brief exposure to her Royalty have worn off before continuing. "My apologies, but I thought that I would be seeing Elder Siani today."
"What gave you that impression?" she responds. Sister Xiong doesn't give you a chance to answer before she turns again and marches on, forcing you to jog in her wake.
"When last we spoke, he… um…" you say. "He suggested that I may receive lessons of his own devising and perhaps…"
You trail off, wondering how to politely phrase 'I was told I would be rewarded for my diligence' without it coming across as boasting or demanding. Thankfully, Sister Xiong saves you from that particular set of mental contortions by snorting out a laugh. "I know precisely what you were told, Kong Zhi," she states. "And have no fear. You will be rewarded for the services you have provided."
Sister Xiong pushes a door open and gestures for you to go through it first. As you do, she states, "Your reward will be threefold. The first part will indeed be lessons from the Master himself. That will have to wait, however. He is… currently indisposed."
You can only blink at that news. "Oh?" you ask. "I was unaware that his… exertions had wounded him to such an extent."
"They did not," comes the cryptic answer. Sister Xiong allows the door to swing closed behind you and moves forward, leading the way into a larger hall and very determinedly not clarifying her point at all. Instead, she continues. "The second part will be something of a more tangible nature. I shall give that to you myself at the conclusion of training today."
"...I see," you state, still wondering about what could possibly render Elder Siani 'indisposed'. If it wasn't his battle against the thing in the dark tunnel, what could it be? Perhaps he is just on an assignment. Though if that's the case, why did Sister Xiong not simply state that?
Whatever the case may be, puzzling over it will not bring you any closer to the correct answer. Besides, what Sister Xiong has just said demands a response. You bow your head and say, "You have my utmost thanks for your assistance, Sister Xiong. I imagine that whatever Elder Siani has selected for me is a prize beyond compare."
Sister Xiong nods once, accepting your thanks. "You will find it most useful, I am sure," she responds. After that it appears she has nothing more to say, lapsing into silence as she continues to lead you further and further into the Warren.
It has not escaped your attention that Sister Xiong said that your reward was threefold, yet has only mentioned two parts. You open your mouth to comment on it, but find yourself snapping it shut as soon as it has opened. It would be rude to ask about the third, unspoken part directly. So instead you ask another question. "You are conducting my training today, Sister Xiong?"
"I am," comes the quick answer. "The others have done a competent job of teaching you how we conduct ourselves within the Eighth Court. Normally, that would be the extent of your formal training. From this point on, the Master's preferred teaching method is experience; you would usually be left to find your own way during the course of your assignments."
"Usually?" you parrot. "Is there something different in my case?"
"I can see that no moss grows twixt your toes, Kong Zhi," comes Sister Xiong's response. "Yes, your learning process is going to be accelerated because of the third part of the Master's reward."
She sighs and shakes her head, a mote of disapproval breaking through her regal bearing. "I think it is far too soon to even hint at such things, but when the Master makes up his mind…" Sister Xiong sighs, clearly despairing at the mere thought of ever changing Elder Siani's thoughts on a subject. "My thoughts are immaterial."
Sister Xiong stops and fixes you with a firm look. "Kong Zhi, when Elder Siani believes you are prepared, you will be raised to the Seventh Circle."
Her words are enough for your feet to collide with each other. You stumble forward, almost landing face first on the stone floor. Only your combat training saves you from such a fate. Instead of tasting the earth, you roll forward, tumbling down and then back to your feet once more. Were your thoughts not preoccupied, you may have paused to admire your own recovery.
But no, there's no time for that. Your thoughts are very much occupied. "The Seventh, Sister?" you almost gasp. "But I… I've barely been promoted to the Eighth!"
"Indeed," comes the displeased response. "But the Master seems positively thrilled at the idea of promoting you again so quickly. I believe his exact words were…"
Sister Xiong frowns, her gaze distant as a conversation you were not privy to plays out in her memories. "'....Kong Zhi has provided such exemplary service,'" she repeats "'We would be doing the Heart a great disservice if we did not give him the opportunity to perform more of the same.'"
"Oh," you numbly repeat. When Sister Xiong puts it like that… honestly, it does not sound like much of a reward. It sounds like Elder Siani just wants to see what kind of things you'll do if he tosses you up to the next circle.
Wait. Why does that surprise you? It's Elder Siani.
"But that is in the future," Sister Xiong continues. "You will not be promoted to the Seventh until I am convinced that you won't be dropped right back into the Eighth. So until you are well and truly ready for the rigors of the Seventh Circle, we will be preparing you for your promotion."
The tone of her voice makes your heart sink down until it reaches somewhere near your stomach. "I… see. If I may ask, what deficiencies will the honored Sister aid me in overcoming?"
You are already well on your way to reaching Elder Siani's stated goal of becoming a Proper Soldier, so it cannot be that. Your crafting is well beyond anything you've seen from your peers at the Heart, and you doubt even a Sage could find too much fault in them. You suppose it might be your martial skills but you highly doubt that it is; were those what are in question, you cannot see Sister Xiong handling it herself. She would more likely just toss you in Jetei's direction.
Is… is it your mental fortitude? Is Sister Xiong going to force you to withstand your aura? Ancestors above, you hope it isn't that. You just stopped getting the urge to kowtow to her everytime she walks into a room!
Sister Xiong very pointedly does not answer your question. Your heart leaves your stomach behind and settles down somewhere near your toes.
As your mind races, the two of you reach what appears to be your destination. Sister Xiong turns and opens a door in the side of the impossibly long hall, gesturing at you to lead the way. You do so with trepidation in every step, dread lurking in your mind as you make your way into what will surely be another hellish area of pain and misery.
But as the door behind you swings shut, you can only stop and stare at the room around you.
The room… it is normal. It is a wooden hall the size of your courtyard at the spire, unremarkable in any way. Small writing desks fill the room with a larger one at the front. Set in the wall behind the front desk is a heavy stone slab just waiting to be filled.
Air races from your lungs as you let out an enormous sigh of relief. It's a classroom. Whatever Sister Xiong is going to be teaching you, it is academic. Lectures are not your favored method of learning, but compared to whatever else the Caretakers could inflict on you, you will accept it in a heartbeat.
Sister Xiong moves past you, gesturing at one of the writing desks while she takes her place at the front of the room. You slide into the indicated seat as she says, "You are well on your way to becoming a well-rounded Artist, Kong Zhi. Your pillars are in place and while your technique library is lacking, that can be easily overcome. What is far more difficult to remedy is your lack of knowledge. More specifically, your lack of knowledge about the world around us."
"Seventh Circle Disciples are not given the luxury of lazing about the Heart," she continues. "While an Eighth Circle Disciple may find that their responsibilities only rarely take them from our halls, a Seventh Circle Disciple must be ready to travel the width and breadth of the Empire to complete their tasks. They are given no simple assignments either."
Sister Xiong shakes her head. "You will not be refilling lanterns or exterminating snakes as a Seventh Circle Disciple; such things are for those who have not proven themselves. No, as a Seventh Circle Caretaker, you will be taking our remit far and wide, searching out the threats that could threaten the Heart before they become true problems and dealing with them."
"But you will not be alone," she states. "Though you will likely be one of the only Artists we send to deal with a situation, you will be far from the only Artist present. The other sects of the Empire have their own courts that deal with similar matters. When you reach the Seventh Circle, it will only be a matter of time until you come into regular contact with representatives from the others. When that time comes, you will be prepared."
Sister Xiong leans back on her desk, fixing you with an amethyst gaze. "Today, we will begin your further education," she states. "And we will begin it with the other six Stars of the Empire. By the time you leave these walls today, you will be able to recite anything that I wish to know about the other imperial sects on command."
You nod along with her words even as a light frown crosses your lips. Sister Xiong knows best, of course, but you cannot help but feel that there are half a dozen other things you should learn first. More immediate things… like common types of Spirit Beasts and how to best slay them, or how to deal with surprisingly docile Kukuni or-
Your train of thought is cut off as Sister Xiong's gaze grows in intensity. "Kong Zhi," she states, finality firm in her voice. "We do not know when Elder Siani will decide that you are 'ready'. It could be in six months, it could be in the next five minutes. When that happens, you will be wandering far and wide with our sect's name on your shoulders. I will not have you shame us before the other sects, and I will not allow you to hide behind the shield of ignorance should you pull us into a blood feud. Is that understood?"
There is exactly one proper response here. You nod vigorously at Sister Xiong's words. "Of course, Sister!" you almost bellow. "I am an empty vessel simply waiting to be filled with your teachings."
Sister Xiong nods. "That is what I thought," she states. "Now, let us begin with...."
She trails off, reaching down towards her belt sash with a look of mild displeasure on her face. Whatever she hopes to find there, she fails to discover. "One moment, Kong Zhi," she states. "I seem to have misplaced my chalk. Or…" Sister Xiong trails off, thoughts flashing across her face too quickly for you to recognize them.
When they clear, a fond smile is on her face. "Ah, of course," she states. Sister Xiong raises her hands, clapping them together softly. "Songlu!" she calls. "Did you take my chalk?"
Behind you, the door swings open. You turn your head just in time to see a miniscule shape trotting across the floor, moving so quickly that your naked eye cannot recognize it. It stops at the front of the room, dropping down on it's hindquarters at Sister Xiong's feet.
Once it stops moving, you are able to get a clear glimpse of it- though you are not certain you can believe what you are seeing.
Is… is that the pig?
It takes a moment of google-eyed staring for it to sink into your brain, but after a moment you are forced to come to grips with the thought that your eyes are not lying to you. That is indeed the Spirit Pig you enlisted in your trip to the deeps sitting at Sister Xiong's feet, staring up at her with adoring worship.
Though now that you recognize the pig, changes to its appearance stand out to you like beacons. It's coarse hair is gone, revealing smooth, pink skin. It's large tusks have shrunk until they are a fraction of their former size. But the biggest change is in the creature's entire stature. Before, when you stood near it, the pig was up to your waist. But now, you would be shocked if it came up to your knee.
What happened to it?
Sister Xiong notices the look on your face and nods in your direction. "Kong Zhi," she states. "I would like to formally introduce you to our newest friend, Songlu. After recent events, it was determined that we should make ourselves known to him, and so I have taken him under my wing."
Then her focus returns to the pig- Songlu, she called it. "Though I would have done so instantly, without any prompting, had I known just how cute you are!" Sister Xiong coos. "You are such a handsome lad, aren't you? Aren't you?"
From the besotted look on Songlu's face, you get the sense that he does not mind such treatment at all. Though it's contented expression vanishes as Sister Xiong continues, "But that does not excuse you stealing my chalk. You did take my chalk, did you not?"
Songlu's gaze turns to the ground and it produces a thick white stick from seemingly nowhere. "Yes sorry sorry, Mistress," it says mournfully. "Songlu very sorry yes. Only wanted spend more time near Mistress."
Hearts practically appear in Sister Xiong's eyes. "Oh, Songlu," she sighs. "You did not have to behave in such a manner for that! All you had to do was ask! You are alway welcome at my side- in fact, I think this lesson will be greatly served by your assistance. Would you like to draw on the slate for me?"
By Songlu's expression, you would think it is looking at the sun rising over the horizon. "Yes yes, Mistress! Songlu best draw helper!" It scurries away, sprinting behind her and taking up a position on top of the desk, just waiting to spring at the slate.
You cannot take your eyes from the beast. "Sister Xiong?" you ask faintly. "What… happened to it?"
The smile on Sister Xiong's face doesn't waver in the least. "Nothing intrusive or unwanted by my new friend, Kong Zhi," she states, reaching out and patting Songlu on the head. The pig preens and presses up against her palm, searching for more affection. "Songlu was a touch coarse and unrefined before, certainly. But it was nothing my anam could not fix."
...well. The implications of that statement are terrifying.
Perhaps you got off easily by only having to think about worshipping Sister Xiong for a few weeks.
"But that is unimportant," Sister Xiong states, clapping her hands to draw your focus away from the pig. "If you wish to spend time with Songlu later, that is your business. For now, it is time for your lessons. Tell me, Kong Zhi, what do you know about the sects of the Radiant Empire?"
You wrench your mind away from the pig's fate. There will be time to contemplate what exactly has happened here later. For now, you had best answer Sister Xiong's questions. "I know that there are seven of them," you begin. "Each with their own specialty and focus."
"A good start," Sister Xiong responds with a nod. "Can you name them all?"
You wrack your brain for the requested information. "I… suspect not," you answer honestly. "But I know some of them."
Sister Xiong beckons for you to continue, and so you do. "First of all is the Delving Heart, of course," you begin, feeling a bit foolish naming the sect you are physically within. But still, she asked about all seven, so you may as well begin with the low-hanging fruit.
"Of course," your senior acknowledges, gesturing at the slate behind her. Songlu leaps into action at her motion, scratching wildly at the stone with it's chalk. When the dust clears, a simple set of nine lines identical to your Sigil sits proudly on the board. "First and greatest among the sects, the Delving Heart has produced some of the greatest Artists of the past thousand years. No less than three Emperors have come through our halls, and our history of great deeds speaks for itself. Beyond that, we at the Heart specialize in Earth Anam- something you should remember when you search for your next techniques."
You nod in acceptance at the pointed suggestion before continuing. "Beyond the Heart, my Mother was a disciple in the Rose Triumphant and Father at the Breath Undying."
"An interesting pairing," comes Sister Xiong's response. "Considering the history between the Rose and the Breath." She gestures at the board and Songlu leaps into the air once more. When it descends this time, a pair of symbols have joined the Heart's Sigil. The Breath's icon is made up of six lines, each curving in upon themselves to form an enormous cloud. The Rose, by contrast, is a simple flower standing on it's own.
"The Rose Triumphant is the youngest sect in the Empire, no matter what they claim," Sister Xiong continues. "Their mastery is over Light Anam, and should you be forced to combat one, trusting your eyes will be a mistake. Beyond their skills with Light, they excel in the gentle arts. Artists trained by the Rose often find their place at court as diplomats or messengers."
Your senior shakes her head as she moves on. "On the exact opposite end of things, we have the Breath Undying. Perhaps the oldest sect in the Empire, the Breath Undying does naught but train Artists for battle. From the moment they arrive in the Cloudforge Plateau, disciples of the Breath learn self-sufficiency, Wind Anam, and violence. They are far less formal about their processes than the Heart. Their induction process is rumored to be simply dropping their new disciples on the Plateau and seeing who is still there a month later."
A vision dances before your eyes. You can almost see a young Father being thrown into ankle-length grass and told 'Good luck! Best Wishes!' before being thrown a knife and a waterskin. What was his training like?
"That makes three, Kong Zhi," Sister Xiong states, interrupting your thoughts. "There are four remaining."
You nod, thinking of your other family members as you do. Who else went to a different sect? Before coming to Harmony, your ancestral home was Soaring Crow, along the eastern border of the Empire. As such, most Kongs before your generation were members of the Breath Undying. But there has to have been others who went elsewhere-
-ah, of course. "The Cerulean Summer," you finally answer. "My elder cousin is a disciple there."
Songlu doesn't need to be told to act this time. It simply does, sketching four curling lines splitting around a circle to form the icon of the Summer. As he does, Xiong Eryu continues her lecture. "Another older sect, the Cerulean Summer are the wardens of the South. It is they that keep watch over the Laughingstar Sea and the thousands of pirates who hide within. They, as you may assume, have a way with Water Anam, and are known for housing a thousand scholars. The Summer has entire halls dedicated to Seated intellectuals who come from far and wide to debate the nature of this realm. It would behoove you to study the philosophers should a confrontation with the Summer be likely; that way, you can distract them with the words of Kun Uwe. Ask them to contemplate a pebble; you might be surprised how well it works."
You almost laugh, but Sister Xiong seems very serious. You make a note to find out what she's talking about later and continue. "I… those are the only ones I am familiar with- wait, no. His Imperial Glory was an Artist from the Whispering Jackal. Mother made sure to have me memorize that one."
Sense Motive Check: 4d10s7(1.0). Dice Rolled: 10, 7, 7, 3, 6. 3 Successes!
A sudden emotion flashes across Sister Xiong's face. Whatever it is, you do not get the chance to identify it. By the time you realize that she even had a reaction to your words, her normal mask of regal neutrality has taken its place on her face once more.
When she speaks, it's with the same detached tone she's been using this entire time. "Of course. The Whispering Jackal."
Songlu is in the air, a cloud of chalk surrounding it. The four icons on the slate are joined by a fifth, this one a paw print from a beast with six claws. "As you may guess, the Wandering Jackal is home to the greatest number of Beast Artists in the Empire. It goes further than that, though. They also boast an enormous number of ascended Spirit Beasts, most of whom make up their upper ranks. One may think that this would grant them an unmatched savagery, but that could not be further from the truth. Artists born from the Jackal are known for their supreme discipline and cool heads in conflicts. Should you be at war, be grateful that the Jackal is on your side; the cunning and quick-thinking born from the Jackal's tutelage have preserved the sanctity of the Empire more times than can be counted."
SIster Xiong lapes back into silence, waiting for you to prompt her again. This time though, you truly are bereft of knowledge. Those were the only five you knew. She does not chastise you, however. Instead she gestures at Songlu and begins to speak as he scribbles the final two icons.
"That leaves us with the Resolute March and Nighwatch Grove. Again, we could not have two more different sects. The Grove seldom leaves the Forest of Seasons. The March never remains in one place for more than a month. The Grove have only proved victorious in the Tournament of Seven Stars thrice in their history. The March won that many events last year alone. The Grove could not care less for the goings on of the greater world. The March cares for little besides current events."
The final two icons quickly reveal themselves as a pair of crossed spears and a series of triangles, clearly representing a copse of trees. "The March is known for Fire Anam, which they rain down upon the Emperor's enemies to great effect. The Grove specializes in Blood, and has produced monsters and healers in equal measure since their founding. Neither are to be taken lightly."
Songlu moves back to Sister Xiong's side, and your senior drops a hand down on her porcine pet's skull. "These seven sects make up the pillars that make the Radiant Empire what it is today. They are the Radiant Empire. We are the Radiant Empire. No other nation has such a broad variety of Artists. No other nation trains and treats their Artists so well. To know the sects is to know the Empire."
"But while each sect is a proud part of a greater whole, each has its own needs. Each has its own specialties. Each is governed by a web of debts and honor that stretches back for time immemorial. It is this web that you need to learn should you wish to uphold the pride of the Heart, or at the very least not embarrass us before our peers."
What follows, after that introduction to the sects, is Sister Xiong doing her absolute best to cram ten thousand years of history between your ears. Facts and stories combine with legends and fables, each a thread in the complex tapestry that is the relationship between the seven sects.
The Delving Heart and Breath Undying currently have a very friendly rivalry- though it was not always so friendly. Apparently there was an event fifty years ago that turned things to the better. What was once a blood feud is now a sporting competition between equals. Their burgeoning respect is helped along by the disdain that both have for Nightwatch Grove, who have yet to truly prove themselves as one of the Great Sects.
Nightwatch Grove, for its part, is none too fond of the Heart either, but their disdain is nothing compared to the feelings the Resolute March has towards your sect. There was some kind of incident four hundred years ago that Sister Xiong does not expound upon, simply explaining that a disciple of the Delving Heart should be wary of friendly fire in the March's territory. The Delving Heart, however, is not the sole focus of the March's hatred. It seems they also have a certain level of animus towards the Rose and the Jackal, though they would never dare act on the latter as long as His Imperial Glory sits in the Dawnstone Seat.
Along with being skilled warriors, the Breath produces a great number of surprisingly talented architects. It seems their disciples must form their own housing before they can continue with their training, and many of them continue practicing their skills once that training is deemed complete. They have a good relationship with most other sects save the Grove, but they are especially close with the Summer, who has been calling on their expertise with great regularity over the past few years.
Sister Xiong is not sure why the Summer has such a need for architects, but she suspects the purpose would baffle any who learned of it. Such is the way of the Summer.
On and on it goes. Feuds, famous battles, the results of the yearly tournament between the Sects… all of it and more is packed into your brain until you feel like you are thinking through a thick layer of disjointed facts.
Skill Up! Knowledge (History) +1, Knowledge (Cultivation) +1!
By the end of it, you aren't certain that whatever Sister Xiong is saying is even composed of words anymore. Still, you repeat everything she says back to you, dutifully memorizing each scrap of sound that falls from her lips.
Eventually, she takes pity on you. "I think that will do nicely for a primer," she states. "You've done adequately to keep up for this long. Remember all that you have learned today. You will be tested on what you retain."
You try to mumble something that sounds affirmative, but it feels like if you really open your mouth, half of what you just learned will spill out. So you content yourself with a slow nod; that way, the knowledge only gets mildly disturbed.
"Now, you have been patient long enough," Sister Xiong continues. "Here."
Something glints in the air and you reach out, snatching a small circle of metal before it collides with your face. You hold it up to the light and inspect it. In your hand sits a strange looking ring. It looks as if the smith forging it was attempting to make five rings at once and then twisted them all together, forming a circle of multicolored metal. "What's this?" you ask.
"That," Sister Xiong answers. "Is the Wandering Estate, and it is part of your reward."
That's enough to jar you out of your near-coma. You stare down at the ring with new eyes, allowing your Sixth Sense to open and reach out to the ring. You find wood and metal twining together in the metal, but they are far from the only aspects. There's hints of steel, of life, of fire… no, not Fire. It is far too comforting to be simple Fire Anam. What could that…?
You are broken from your reverie as Sister Xiong begins to explain. "Master thought that you would benefit greatly from a spatial ring, and he went to no small trouble to procure you the best one he could find. The Wandering Estate is no simple storage, though. It has a variety of uses."
"First," Sister Xiong states. "You can use it as an ordinary spatial ring. When you have it on, you may store anything you can carry inside of it by touching it to the ring and activating it. Items can be reclaimed just as easily by picturing what you wish to retrieve and exercising your anam. The Estate can hold no more than one thousand pounds of materials in this fashion, so choose what you wish to store wisely."
One thousand pounds… is a light limit? How much do Artists keep in these things?!
Sister Xiong continues, not letting you get a word in edgewise. "Alternatively, the Wandering Estate can summon it's own secondary storage space should you wish to stow away larger items. Put it on, cycle to it, and flick your wrist."
You do as bid, allowing your anam to flood the ring while twisting your wrist as if you were attempting to dry your hands. The ring seems to spin in place, projecting a small hole in reality in front of you. The hole grows and widens until it is as tall as you are and twice as wide.
"While this space is open, you may enter the Estate and peruse anything you have stored here. You may also retrieve and store larger items that you could not carry on your own. This facet of the Estate creates a space thirty feet wide, sixty feet long, and twenty feet tall. You may fill it with whatever you wish."
"Now, finally, the third facet. Cycle to the ring and, at the same time, spin it with your thumb.
Again, you do as bid- and this time, the ring shoots from your finger, smacking into the wall of the classroom like an arrow. The hole in reality forms once again, but this time when it grows, it reveals a simple wooden door against the formerly featureless wall. At Sister Xiong's urging, you move forward and pull the door open.
You were not certain what you expected to see, but it most definitely was not a small manor house sitting on a field of grass. But that is exactly what you see. A pleasant looking dwelling, one that would not look out of the ordinary on the streets of Harmony, is there to greet you, lit by sourceless sunlight. A breeze that smells of the forest and the waters wafts from the door, blowing your hair back and filling your mind with memories of time spent relaxing during a quiet day.
"Finally," Sister Xiong explains. "By activating the third facet, you bring the Estate fully into this realm. Here, you have a safe space in which you can relax and recover from your labors. Anything you store within the ring will be transported to the house and will return there should you bring it out and store it again once more."
You stare blankly at the house- at the home- in front of you. "How long does it last?" you ask numbly.
"As long as you need it to," comes the answer. "Though be wary. The Estate can exist for months at a time should you wish it, but when you close the third facet once more, you will be unable to resummon it for as long as you had it open. Spend a week in luxury? You must then go a week without."
All you can do is nod. You turn away from the house and close the door, idly watching as the doorknob shifts and twists beneath your fingers until it is the ring once more. When you pull your hand away, it is as if the door to that peaceful place never existed. "This… this is a princely reward," you murmur.
"You performed a princely service," Sister Xiong says, Songlu nodding along even though it clearly has no idea what it's mistress is talking about. "So you should be paid as such."
Still, you shake your head in mute disbelief. "The amount of time, effort, power that went into the creation of something like this… I can scarcely fathom it."
Sister Xiong nods along with your words. "Neither can I," she muses. "In truth, none of us know who created the Wandering Estate. Whoever it was must have been a savant with spatial charms. Use it well, lest I try to claim it for myself."
Her words are teasing, but you barely notice them. Instead you fixate on the first part of her statement. "Wait, you do not know who made it?"
"We haven't the faintest clue," Sister Xiong admits. "But that is to be expected. We do not know the source of a great number of the treasures in the Warren. Most have been within these walls for generations. But the creators should be proud. Even if they have been forgotten, their creations live on."
"I… I apologize, but I am confused," you state. "There are treasures within the Warren that were not placed here by Elder Siani?"
"Many," comes the easy answer. "Hundreds. Thousands. In truth, we suspect the Warren was the first building built when the Sect was new. It has collected many such artifacts over that time, as well as a mind of it's own. That's why you must be cautious with the lower levels. Should you venture too deep, the Warren will take note of you and… test your mettle."
You just stare at Sister Xiong.
The Warren… the headquarters of the Caretakers… has mysteries and treasures locked away in it's lower levels… and you will only find them if you pass tests set by the Warren itself.
Why did no one tell you this earlier?!
Twenty minutes later, you have left Sister Xiong's classroom far behind. You venture down the spiraling staircase in the center of the Warren, taking it as far down as you can go. The stairs fly by beneath your feet and you almost fall, but your grip on the railing keeps you steady.
You do not know how many flights of stairs you've descended before you run out of them. But eventually, there are no more stairs to descend. You make it to the very last floor-
And find yourself facing three doors.
The first is a simple wooden one, a single gemstone eye decorating the center. The second is made of stone, musical notes inscribed along the top. The third appears to be formed of some kind of red metal, and when you move close to it, it feels hot to the touch.
This… is the building testing you? Is this what Sister Xiong was talking about? Do you have to select the right door for the Warren to grant you a boon? Or does each door contain a test of its own and you are just picking which one you want to take?
...you have no idea. But one thing is clear: if you want to explore the Warren, you must venture through one of these three doors.
Which door do you go through?
[] The wooden door adorned with an eye.
[] The stone door inscribed with musical notes.
[] The metal door that is hot to the touch.
--------------------
No matter how much fun you're having, you cannot spend all of your days working with Chui Dao in the Twice-Forged Thicket. Eventually, you run out of time. You're forced to stow Chui Dao's hammer back in your belt sash, gather up your mostly complete charm, and make the long trip back to the Spire. You're not able to remain at home long either; you barely stay long enough to secret the axe pieces in your room, where Fa cannot stumble across them.
Once the head of ice and steel is safely stowed beneath your writing desk, you're out the door once more. Your destination: the Warren. It is around the time that you normally visit Caretaker Headquarters, and no one has told you to do otherwise this week. Still, taking the now familiar path fills you with trepidation.
The last time you visited the Warren, it was with news. And as a direct result of that news, you received great praise, promises of great reward, and the most matter-of-fact threats upon your existence you may ever receive, all from your Master. After all that… honestly you are glad that your stomach is in your throat when you climb the stairs to the Warren's entrance hall.
After all, if it were not… well, that would mean you have taken leave of every single sense you have ever been fortunate enough to possess.
But to your relief- and mild disappointment- you are not greeted in the entrance hall by Elder Siani. Your Master is nowhere to be found. Instead, the first face you see when roaming through the Warren is Sister Xiong.
Your senior greets you with a nod. "Your promptness does you credit, Kong Zhi. Now come along. We've much to cover and a very short period of time in which to do so." Without another word she turns, heading down one of the Warren's impossibly long halls, clearly expecting you to follow.
You stare blankly at her back for a very long moment, feet rooted in place. "Excuse me, Sister Xiong?" you ask quietly. She stops and turns, raising an eyebrow at you in a gesture that would normally cause your instincts to demand you prostrate yourself before her. When they do no such thing, you take a breath to luxuriate in the knowledge that the side-effects from your brief exposure to her Royalty have worn off before continuing. "My apologies, but I thought that I would be seeing Elder Siani today."
"What gave you that impression?" she responds. Sister Xiong doesn't give you a chance to answer before she turns again and marches on, forcing you to jog in her wake.
"When last we spoke, he… um…" you say. "He suggested that I may receive lessons of his own devising and perhaps…"
You trail off, wondering how to politely phrase 'I was told I would be rewarded for my diligence' without it coming across as boasting or demanding. Thankfully, Sister Xiong saves you from that particular set of mental contortions by snorting out a laugh. "I know precisely what you were told, Kong Zhi," she states. "And have no fear. You will be rewarded for the services you have provided."
Sister Xiong pushes a door open and gestures for you to go through it first. As you do, she states, "Your reward will be threefold. The first part will indeed be lessons from the Master himself. That will have to wait, however. He is… currently indisposed."
You can only blink at that news. "Oh?" you ask. "I was unaware that his… exertions had wounded him to such an extent."
"They did not," comes the cryptic answer. Sister Xiong allows the door to swing closed behind you and moves forward, leading the way into a larger hall and very determinedly not clarifying her point at all. Instead, she continues. "The second part will be something of a more tangible nature. I shall give that to you myself at the conclusion of training today."
"...I see," you state, still wondering about what could possibly render Elder Siani 'indisposed'. If it wasn't his battle against the thing in the dark tunnel, what could it be? Perhaps he is just on an assignment. Though if that's the case, why did Sister Xiong not simply state that?
Whatever the case may be, puzzling over it will not bring you any closer to the correct answer. Besides, what Sister Xiong has just said demands a response. You bow your head and say, "You have my utmost thanks for your assistance, Sister Xiong. I imagine that whatever Elder Siani has selected for me is a prize beyond compare."
Sister Xiong nods once, accepting your thanks. "You will find it most useful, I am sure," she responds. After that it appears she has nothing more to say, lapsing into silence as she continues to lead you further and further into the Warren.
It has not escaped your attention that Sister Xiong said that your reward was threefold, yet has only mentioned two parts. You open your mouth to comment on it, but find yourself snapping it shut as soon as it has opened. It would be rude to ask about the third, unspoken part directly. So instead you ask another question. "You are conducting my training today, Sister Xiong?"
"I am," comes the quick answer. "The others have done a competent job of teaching you how we conduct ourselves within the Eighth Court. Normally, that would be the extent of your formal training. From this point on, the Master's preferred teaching method is experience; you would usually be left to find your own way during the course of your assignments."
"Usually?" you parrot. "Is there something different in my case?"
"I can see that no moss grows twixt your toes, Kong Zhi," comes Sister Xiong's response. "Yes, your learning process is going to be accelerated because of the third part of the Master's reward."
She sighs and shakes her head, a mote of disapproval breaking through her regal bearing. "I think it is far too soon to even hint at such things, but when the Master makes up his mind…" Sister Xiong sighs, clearly despairing at the mere thought of ever changing Elder Siani's thoughts on a subject. "My thoughts are immaterial."
Sister Xiong stops and fixes you with a firm look. "Kong Zhi, when Elder Siani believes you are prepared, you will be raised to the Seventh Circle."
Her words are enough for your feet to collide with each other. You stumble forward, almost landing face first on the stone floor. Only your combat training saves you from such a fate. Instead of tasting the earth, you roll forward, tumbling down and then back to your feet once more. Were your thoughts not preoccupied, you may have paused to admire your own recovery.
But no, there's no time for that. Your thoughts are very much occupied. "The Seventh, Sister?" you almost gasp. "But I… I've barely been promoted to the Eighth!"
"Indeed," comes the displeased response. "But the Master seems positively thrilled at the idea of promoting you again so quickly. I believe his exact words were…"
Sister Xiong frowns, her gaze distant as a conversation you were not privy to plays out in her memories. "'....Kong Zhi has provided such exemplary service,'" she repeats "'We would be doing the Heart a great disservice if we did not give him the opportunity to perform more of the same.'"
"Oh," you numbly repeat. When Sister Xiong puts it like that… honestly, it does not sound like much of a reward. It sounds like Elder Siani just wants to see what kind of things you'll do if he tosses you up to the next circle.
Wait. Why does that surprise you? It's Elder Siani.
"But that is in the future," Sister Xiong continues. "You will not be promoted to the Seventh until I am convinced that you won't be dropped right back into the Eighth. So until you are well and truly ready for the rigors of the Seventh Circle, we will be preparing you for your promotion."
The tone of her voice makes your heart sink down until it reaches somewhere near your stomach. "I… see. If I may ask, what deficiencies will the honored Sister aid me in overcoming?"
You are already well on your way to reaching Elder Siani's stated goal of becoming a Proper Soldier, so it cannot be that. Your crafting is well beyond anything you've seen from your peers at the Heart, and you doubt even a Sage could find too much fault in them. You suppose it might be your martial skills but you highly doubt that it is; were those what are in question, you cannot see Sister Xiong handling it herself. She would more likely just toss you in Jetei's direction.
Is… is it your mental fortitude? Is Sister Xiong going to force you to withstand your aura? Ancestors above, you hope it isn't that. You just stopped getting the urge to kowtow to her everytime she walks into a room!
Sister Xiong very pointedly does not answer your question. Your heart leaves your stomach behind and settles down somewhere near your toes.
As your mind races, the two of you reach what appears to be your destination. Sister Xiong turns and opens a door in the side of the impossibly long hall, gesturing at you to lead the way. You do so with trepidation in every step, dread lurking in your mind as you make your way into what will surely be another hellish area of pain and misery.
But as the door behind you swings shut, you can only stop and stare at the room around you.
The room… it is normal. It is a wooden hall the size of your courtyard at the spire, unremarkable in any way. Small writing desks fill the room with a larger one at the front. Set in the wall behind the front desk is a heavy stone slab just waiting to be filled.
Air races from your lungs as you let out an enormous sigh of relief. It's a classroom. Whatever Sister Xiong is going to be teaching you, it is academic. Lectures are not your favored method of learning, but compared to whatever else the Caretakers could inflict on you, you will accept it in a heartbeat.
Sister Xiong moves past you, gesturing at one of the writing desks while she takes her place at the front of the room. You slide into the indicated seat as she says, "You are well on your way to becoming a well-rounded Artist, Kong Zhi. Your pillars are in place and while your technique library is lacking, that can be easily overcome. What is far more difficult to remedy is your lack of knowledge. More specifically, your lack of knowledge about the world around us."
"Seventh Circle Disciples are not given the luxury of lazing about the Heart," she continues. "While an Eighth Circle Disciple may find that their responsibilities only rarely take them from our halls, a Seventh Circle Disciple must be ready to travel the width and breadth of the Empire to complete their tasks. They are given no simple assignments either."
Sister Xiong shakes her head. "You will not be refilling lanterns or exterminating snakes as a Seventh Circle Disciple; such things are for those who have not proven themselves. No, as a Seventh Circle Caretaker, you will be taking our remit far and wide, searching out the threats that could threaten the Heart before they become true problems and dealing with them."
"But you will not be alone," she states. "Though you will likely be one of the only Artists we send to deal with a situation, you will be far from the only Artist present. The other sects of the Empire have their own courts that deal with similar matters. When you reach the Seventh Circle, it will only be a matter of time until you come into regular contact with representatives from the others. When that time comes, you will be prepared."
Sister Xiong leans back on her desk, fixing you with an amethyst gaze. "Today, we will begin your further education," she states. "And we will begin it with the other six Stars of the Empire. By the time you leave these walls today, you will be able to recite anything that I wish to know about the other imperial sects on command."
You nod along with her words even as a light frown crosses your lips. Sister Xiong knows best, of course, but you cannot help but feel that there are half a dozen other things you should learn first. More immediate things… like common types of Spirit Beasts and how to best slay them, or how to deal with surprisingly docile Kukuni or-
Your train of thought is cut off as Sister Xiong's gaze grows in intensity. "Kong Zhi," she states, finality firm in her voice. "We do not know when Elder Siani will decide that you are 'ready'. It could be in six months, it could be in the next five minutes. When that happens, you will be wandering far and wide with our sect's name on your shoulders. I will not have you shame us before the other sects, and I will not allow you to hide behind the shield of ignorance should you pull us into a blood feud. Is that understood?"
There is exactly one proper response here. You nod vigorously at Sister Xiong's words. "Of course, Sister!" you almost bellow. "I am an empty vessel simply waiting to be filled with your teachings."
Sister Xiong nods. "That is what I thought," she states. "Now, let us begin with...."
She trails off, reaching down towards her belt sash with a look of mild displeasure on her face. Whatever she hopes to find there, she fails to discover. "One moment, Kong Zhi," she states. "I seem to have misplaced my chalk. Or…" Sister Xiong trails off, thoughts flashing across her face too quickly for you to recognize them.
When they clear, a fond smile is on her face. "Ah, of course," she states. Sister Xiong raises her hands, clapping them together softly. "Songlu!" she calls. "Did you take my chalk?"
Behind you, the door swings open. You turn your head just in time to see a miniscule shape trotting across the floor, moving so quickly that your naked eye cannot recognize it. It stops at the front of the room, dropping down on it's hindquarters at Sister Xiong's feet.
Once it stops moving, you are able to get a clear glimpse of it- though you are not certain you can believe what you are seeing.
Is… is that the pig?
It takes a moment of google-eyed staring for it to sink into your brain, but after a moment you are forced to come to grips with the thought that your eyes are not lying to you. That is indeed the Spirit Pig you enlisted in your trip to the deeps sitting at Sister Xiong's feet, staring up at her with adoring worship.
Though now that you recognize the pig, changes to its appearance stand out to you like beacons. It's coarse hair is gone, revealing smooth, pink skin. It's large tusks have shrunk until they are a fraction of their former size. But the biggest change is in the creature's entire stature. Before, when you stood near it, the pig was up to your waist. But now, you would be shocked if it came up to your knee.
What happened to it?
Sister Xiong notices the look on your face and nods in your direction. "Kong Zhi," she states. "I would like to formally introduce you to our newest friend, Songlu. After recent events, it was determined that we should make ourselves known to him, and so I have taken him under my wing."
Then her focus returns to the pig- Songlu, she called it. "Though I would have done so instantly, without any prompting, had I known just how cute you are!" Sister Xiong coos. "You are such a handsome lad, aren't you? Aren't you?"
From the besotted look on Songlu's face, you get the sense that he does not mind such treatment at all. Though it's contented expression vanishes as Sister Xiong continues, "But that does not excuse you stealing my chalk. You did take my chalk, did you not?"
Songlu's gaze turns to the ground and it produces a thick white stick from seemingly nowhere. "Yes sorry sorry, Mistress," it says mournfully. "Songlu very sorry yes. Only wanted spend more time near Mistress."
Hearts practically appear in Sister Xiong's eyes. "Oh, Songlu," she sighs. "You did not have to behave in such a manner for that! All you had to do was ask! You are alway welcome at my side- in fact, I think this lesson will be greatly served by your assistance. Would you like to draw on the slate for me?"
By Songlu's expression, you would think it is looking at the sun rising over the horizon. "Yes yes, Mistress! Songlu best draw helper!" It scurries away, sprinting behind her and taking up a position on top of the desk, just waiting to spring at the slate.
You cannot take your eyes from the beast. "Sister Xiong?" you ask faintly. "What… happened to it?"
The smile on Sister Xiong's face doesn't waver in the least. "Nothing intrusive or unwanted by my new friend, Kong Zhi," she states, reaching out and patting Songlu on the head. The pig preens and presses up against her palm, searching for more affection. "Songlu was a touch coarse and unrefined before, certainly. But it was nothing my anam could not fix."
...well. The implications of that statement are terrifying.
Perhaps you got off easily by only having to think about worshipping Sister Xiong for a few weeks.
"But that is unimportant," Sister Xiong states, clapping her hands to draw your focus away from the pig. "If you wish to spend time with Songlu later, that is your business. For now, it is time for your lessons. Tell me, Kong Zhi, what do you know about the sects of the Radiant Empire?"
You wrench your mind away from the pig's fate. There will be time to contemplate what exactly has happened here later. For now, you had best answer Sister Xiong's questions. "I know that there are seven of them," you begin. "Each with their own specialty and focus."
"A good start," Sister Xiong responds with a nod. "Can you name them all?"
You wrack your brain for the requested information. "I… suspect not," you answer honestly. "But I know some of them."
Sister Xiong beckons for you to continue, and so you do. "First of all is the Delving Heart, of course," you begin, feeling a bit foolish naming the sect you are physically within. But still, she asked about all seven, so you may as well begin with the low-hanging fruit.
"Of course," your senior acknowledges, gesturing at the slate behind her. Songlu leaps into action at her motion, scratching wildly at the stone with it's chalk. When the dust clears, a simple set of nine lines identical to your Sigil sits proudly on the board. "First and greatest among the sects, the Delving Heart has produced some of the greatest Artists of the past thousand years. No less than three Emperors have come through our halls, and our history of great deeds speaks for itself. Beyond that, we at the Heart specialize in Earth Anam- something you should remember when you search for your next techniques."
You nod in acceptance at the pointed suggestion before continuing. "Beyond the Heart, my Mother was a disciple in the Rose Triumphant and Father at the Breath Undying."
"An interesting pairing," comes Sister Xiong's response. "Considering the history between the Rose and the Breath." She gestures at the board and Songlu leaps into the air once more. When it descends this time, a pair of symbols have joined the Heart's Sigil. The Breath's icon is made up of six lines, each curving in upon themselves to form an enormous cloud. The Rose, by contrast, is a simple flower standing on it's own.
"The Rose Triumphant is the youngest sect in the Empire, no matter what they claim," Sister Xiong continues. "Their mastery is over Light Anam, and should you be forced to combat one, trusting your eyes will be a mistake. Beyond their skills with Light, they excel in the gentle arts. Artists trained by the Rose often find their place at court as diplomats or messengers."
Your senior shakes her head as she moves on. "On the exact opposite end of things, we have the Breath Undying. Perhaps the oldest sect in the Empire, the Breath Undying does naught but train Artists for battle. From the moment they arrive in the Cloudforge Plateau, disciples of the Breath learn self-sufficiency, Wind Anam, and violence. They are far less formal about their processes than the Heart. Their induction process is rumored to be simply dropping their new disciples on the Plateau and seeing who is still there a month later."
A vision dances before your eyes. You can almost see a young Father being thrown into ankle-length grass and told 'Good luck! Best Wishes!' before being thrown a knife and a waterskin. What was his training like?
"That makes three, Kong Zhi," Sister Xiong states, interrupting your thoughts. "There are four remaining."
You nod, thinking of your other family members as you do. Who else went to a different sect? Before coming to Harmony, your ancestral home was Soaring Crow, along the eastern border of the Empire. As such, most Kongs before your generation were members of the Breath Undying. But there has to have been others who went elsewhere-
-ah, of course. "The Cerulean Summer," you finally answer. "My elder cousin is a disciple there."
Songlu doesn't need to be told to act this time. It simply does, sketching four curling lines splitting around a circle to form the icon of the Summer. As he does, Xiong Eryu continues her lecture. "Another older sect, the Cerulean Summer are the wardens of the South. It is they that keep watch over the Laughingstar Sea and the thousands of pirates who hide within. They, as you may assume, have a way with Water Anam, and are known for housing a thousand scholars. The Summer has entire halls dedicated to Seated intellectuals who come from far and wide to debate the nature of this realm. It would behoove you to study the philosophers should a confrontation with the Summer be likely; that way, you can distract them with the words of Kun Uwe. Ask them to contemplate a pebble; you might be surprised how well it works."
You almost laugh, but Sister Xiong seems very serious. You make a note to find out what she's talking about later and continue. "I… those are the only ones I am familiar with- wait, no. His Imperial Glory was an Artist from the Whispering Jackal. Mother made sure to have me memorize that one."
Sense Motive Check: 4d10s7(1.0). Dice Rolled: 10, 7, 7, 3, 6. 3 Successes!
A sudden emotion flashes across Sister Xiong's face. Whatever it is, you do not get the chance to identify it. By the time you realize that she even had a reaction to your words, her normal mask of regal neutrality has taken its place on her face once more.
When she speaks, it's with the same detached tone she's been using this entire time. "Of course. The Whispering Jackal."
Songlu is in the air, a cloud of chalk surrounding it. The four icons on the slate are joined by a fifth, this one a paw print from a beast with six claws. "As you may guess, the Wandering Jackal is home to the greatest number of Beast Artists in the Empire. It goes further than that, though. They also boast an enormous number of ascended Spirit Beasts, most of whom make up their upper ranks. One may think that this would grant them an unmatched savagery, but that could not be further from the truth. Artists born from the Jackal are known for their supreme discipline and cool heads in conflicts. Should you be at war, be grateful that the Jackal is on your side; the cunning and quick-thinking born from the Jackal's tutelage have preserved the sanctity of the Empire more times than can be counted."
SIster Xiong lapes back into silence, waiting for you to prompt her again. This time though, you truly are bereft of knowledge. Those were the only five you knew. She does not chastise you, however. Instead she gestures at Songlu and begins to speak as he scribbles the final two icons.
"That leaves us with the Resolute March and Nighwatch Grove. Again, we could not have two more different sects. The Grove seldom leaves the Forest of Seasons. The March never remains in one place for more than a month. The Grove have only proved victorious in the Tournament of Seven Stars thrice in their history. The March won that many events last year alone. The Grove could not care less for the goings on of the greater world. The March cares for little besides current events."
The final two icons quickly reveal themselves as a pair of crossed spears and a series of triangles, clearly representing a copse of trees. "The March is known for Fire Anam, which they rain down upon the Emperor's enemies to great effect. The Grove specializes in Blood, and has produced monsters and healers in equal measure since their founding. Neither are to be taken lightly."
Songlu moves back to Sister Xiong's side, and your senior drops a hand down on her porcine pet's skull. "These seven sects make up the pillars that make the Radiant Empire what it is today. They are the Radiant Empire. We are the Radiant Empire. No other nation has such a broad variety of Artists. No other nation trains and treats their Artists so well. To know the sects is to know the Empire."
"But while each sect is a proud part of a greater whole, each has its own needs. Each has its own specialties. Each is governed by a web of debts and honor that stretches back for time immemorial. It is this web that you need to learn should you wish to uphold the pride of the Heart, or at the very least not embarrass us before our peers."
What follows, after that introduction to the sects, is Sister Xiong doing her absolute best to cram ten thousand years of history between your ears. Facts and stories combine with legends and fables, each a thread in the complex tapestry that is the relationship between the seven sects.
The Delving Heart and Breath Undying currently have a very friendly rivalry- though it was not always so friendly. Apparently there was an event fifty years ago that turned things to the better. What was once a blood feud is now a sporting competition between equals. Their burgeoning respect is helped along by the disdain that both have for Nightwatch Grove, who have yet to truly prove themselves as one of the Great Sects.
Nightwatch Grove, for its part, is none too fond of the Heart either, but their disdain is nothing compared to the feelings the Resolute March has towards your sect. There was some kind of incident four hundred years ago that Sister Xiong does not expound upon, simply explaining that a disciple of the Delving Heart should be wary of friendly fire in the March's territory. The Delving Heart, however, is not the sole focus of the March's hatred. It seems they also have a certain level of animus towards the Rose and the Jackal, though they would never dare act on the latter as long as His Imperial Glory sits in the Dawnstone Seat.
Along with being skilled warriors, the Breath produces a great number of surprisingly talented architects. It seems their disciples must form their own housing before they can continue with their training, and many of them continue practicing their skills once that training is deemed complete. They have a good relationship with most other sects save the Grove, but they are especially close with the Summer, who has been calling on their expertise with great regularity over the past few years.
Sister Xiong is not sure why the Summer has such a need for architects, but she suspects the purpose would baffle any who learned of it. Such is the way of the Summer.
On and on it goes. Feuds, famous battles, the results of the yearly tournament between the Sects… all of it and more is packed into your brain until you feel like you are thinking through a thick layer of disjointed facts.
Skill Up! Knowledge (History) +1, Knowledge (Cultivation) +1!
By the end of it, you aren't certain that whatever Sister Xiong is saying is even composed of words anymore. Still, you repeat everything she says back to you, dutifully memorizing each scrap of sound that falls from her lips.
Eventually, she takes pity on you. "I think that will do nicely for a primer," she states. "You've done adequately to keep up for this long. Remember all that you have learned today. You will be tested on what you retain."
You try to mumble something that sounds affirmative, but it feels like if you really open your mouth, half of what you just learned will spill out. So you content yourself with a slow nod; that way, the knowledge only gets mildly disturbed.
"Now, you have been patient long enough," Sister Xiong continues. "Here."
Something glints in the air and you reach out, snatching a small circle of metal before it collides with your face. You hold it up to the light and inspect it. In your hand sits a strange looking ring. It looks as if the smith forging it was attempting to make five rings at once and then twisted them all together, forming a circle of multicolored metal. "What's this?" you ask.
"That," Sister Xiong answers. "Is the Wandering Estate, and it is part of your reward."
That's enough to jar you out of your near-coma. You stare down at the ring with new eyes, allowing your Sixth Sense to open and reach out to the ring. You find wood and metal twining together in the metal, but they are far from the only aspects. There's hints of steel, of life, of fire… no, not Fire. It is far too comforting to be simple Fire Anam. What could that…?
You are broken from your reverie as Sister Xiong begins to explain. "Master thought that you would benefit greatly from a spatial ring, and he went to no small trouble to procure you the best one he could find. The Wandering Estate is no simple storage, though. It has a variety of uses."
"First," Sister Xiong states. "You can use it as an ordinary spatial ring. When you have it on, you may store anything you can carry inside of it by touching it to the ring and activating it. Items can be reclaimed just as easily by picturing what you wish to retrieve and exercising your anam. The Estate can hold no more than one thousand pounds of materials in this fashion, so choose what you wish to store wisely."
One thousand pounds… is a light limit? How much do Artists keep in these things?!
Sister Xiong continues, not letting you get a word in edgewise. "Alternatively, the Wandering Estate can summon it's own secondary storage space should you wish to stow away larger items. Put it on, cycle to it, and flick your wrist."
You do as bid, allowing your anam to flood the ring while twisting your wrist as if you were attempting to dry your hands. The ring seems to spin in place, projecting a small hole in reality in front of you. The hole grows and widens until it is as tall as you are and twice as wide.
"While this space is open, you may enter the Estate and peruse anything you have stored here. You may also retrieve and store larger items that you could not carry on your own. This facet of the Estate creates a space thirty feet wide, sixty feet long, and twenty feet tall. You may fill it with whatever you wish."
"Now, finally, the third facet. Cycle to the ring and, at the same time, spin it with your thumb.
Again, you do as bid- and this time, the ring shoots from your finger, smacking into the wall of the classroom like an arrow. The hole in reality forms once again, but this time when it grows, it reveals a simple wooden door against the formerly featureless wall. At Sister Xiong's urging, you move forward and pull the door open.
You were not certain what you expected to see, but it most definitely was not a small manor house sitting on a field of grass. But that is exactly what you see. A pleasant looking dwelling, one that would not look out of the ordinary on the streets of Harmony, is there to greet you, lit by sourceless sunlight. A breeze that smells of the forest and the waters wafts from the door, blowing your hair back and filling your mind with memories of time spent relaxing during a quiet day.
"Finally," Sister Xiong explains. "By activating the third facet, you bring the Estate fully into this realm. Here, you have a safe space in which you can relax and recover from your labors. Anything you store within the ring will be transported to the house and will return there should you bring it out and store it again once more."
You stare blankly at the house- at the home- in front of you. "How long does it last?" you ask numbly.
"As long as you need it to," comes the answer. "Though be wary. The Estate can exist for months at a time should you wish it, but when you close the third facet once more, you will be unable to resummon it for as long as you had it open. Spend a week in luxury? You must then go a week without."
All you can do is nod. You turn away from the house and close the door, idly watching as the doorknob shifts and twists beneath your fingers until it is the ring once more. When you pull your hand away, it is as if the door to that peaceful place never existed. "This… this is a princely reward," you murmur.
"You performed a princely service," Sister Xiong says, Songlu nodding along even though it clearly has no idea what it's mistress is talking about. "So you should be paid as such."
Still, you shake your head in mute disbelief. "The amount of time, effort, power that went into the creation of something like this… I can scarcely fathom it."
Sister Xiong nods along with your words. "Neither can I," she muses. "In truth, none of us know who created the Wandering Estate. Whoever it was must have been a savant with spatial charms. Use it well, lest I try to claim it for myself."
Her words are teasing, but you barely notice them. Instead you fixate on the first part of her statement. "Wait, you do not know who made it?"
"We haven't the faintest clue," Sister Xiong admits. "But that is to be expected. We do not know the source of a great number of the treasures in the Warren. Most have been within these walls for generations. But the creators should be proud. Even if they have been forgotten, their creations live on."
"I… I apologize, but I am confused," you state. "There are treasures within the Warren that were not placed here by Elder Siani?"
"Many," comes the easy answer. "Hundreds. Thousands. In truth, we suspect the Warren was the first building built when the Sect was new. It has collected many such artifacts over that time, as well as a mind of it's own. That's why you must be cautious with the lower levels. Should you venture too deep, the Warren will take note of you and… test your mettle."
You just stare at Sister Xiong.
The Warren… the headquarters of the Caretakers… has mysteries and treasures locked away in it's lower levels… and you will only find them if you pass tests set by the Warren itself.
Why did no one tell you this earlier?!
Twenty minutes later, you have left Sister Xiong's classroom far behind. You venture down the spiraling staircase in the center of the Warren, taking it as far down as you can go. The stairs fly by beneath your feet and you almost fall, but your grip on the railing keeps you steady.
You do not know how many flights of stairs you've descended before you run out of them. But eventually, there are no more stairs to descend. You make it to the very last floor-
And find yourself facing three doors.
The first is a simple wooden one, a single gemstone eye decorating the center. The second is made of stone, musical notes inscribed along the top. The third appears to be formed of some kind of red metal, and when you move close to it, it feels hot to the touch.
This… is the building testing you? Is this what Sister Xiong was talking about? Do you have to select the right door for the Warren to grant you a boon? Or does each door contain a test of its own and you are just picking which one you want to take?
...you have no idea. But one thing is clear: if you want to explore the Warren, you must venture through one of these three doors.
Which door do you go through?
[] The wooden door adorned with an eye.
[] The stone door inscribed with musical notes.
[] The metal door that is hot to the touch.
[X] The wooden door adorned with an eye.
So much cool shit! That item is *crazy*, and it's only a third of the reward.
Insufficient data for a meaningful answer on the door, choosing on vibes.
So much cool shit! That item is *crazy*, and it's only a third of the reward.
Insufficient data for a meaningful answer on the door, choosing on vibes.
- Location
- US
Haven't finished the chapter yet, but I'm so happy the pig is alive! I had written him off as dead.
