The brothel is generally not that interested in pleasing the woman working, nor disguising it behind fancy words.
Threads Of Destiny(Eastern Fantasy, Sequel to Forge of Destiny)
- Thread starter yrsillar
- Start date
- Original Users' Choice!
Voted best in category in the Users' Choice awards.
Winged One
Not the Simurgh
- Location
- definitely the ground
- Pronouns
- They/Them/It
Weilu religion, broadly similar to Buddhism.
And everything's gone downhill since the Pure One introduced it and bullshitted the Horned Lord into abandoning his people. "Waves a stick around like grampa Simpson."
- Location
- the internet
Yeah, because she's referring to something positive and she still doesn't see the physical parts of love as something positive. She's only now getting used to the idea of romance.
Besides, idk how often she saw women being pleasured at the brothel. She probably saw women giving it or sexual intercourse but as for the employees actually having a good time... she wouldn't have been able to recognize it even if they were. Too young.
Sands of Destiny 2
The exterior of the temple complex sprawled over the hills which stood to the east of Irem, the Sleeper city which the temple protected, snug in the bend of the great river. Hori observed the motion of the distant sleepers through their clean streets, from the laborers in the fields, and the little fisher boats, to the priests of the lower temples carrying out the administration of the city under the vigilant gaze of the stone temple guardians which kept order among those unawakened.
He turned his gaze to the single point of connection between the House of All Secrets and the city below, the shining pale blue painted stairway carved into the side of the great helps meandering up its steep slope. He remembered his first time, observing Sleepers climbing the nine hundred steps, or rather, the six hundred a sleeper could perceive on their own. It was a grueling challenge of perception and wit, navigation of the soul maze which the stairs truly wound through, using only mortal senses and the clues and riddles left by the priests.
Young boys and girls, eyes shining with determination and intelligence, even as their parched lips bled and their exhausted limbs trembled. It was ever an inspiring site, a reminder to the blood of Dihauti that the cradle city Irem was an endless fount of new wisdom to add to the Mind of God.
Perhaps he should volunteer to be a proctor in a few years. Maybe if he had taken on more communal duties, he would not have been chosen for this task.
He felt her approach out here on the temple veranda, it came with the crying of the desert wind, the rippling heat haze of the dunes beyond, where the godpath wound through out of synch with the material world, stretching off to the more southerly temples in the network. It was a presence that stalked and loomed, a lion in the high grasses.
He refused to give her the satisfaction of reacting to her progression, remaining in his polite stance here at the temple gates, beneath the colorfully painted pillars cut with warding glyphs and temple history. His porter dreg stood hunched behind him, the stone chest containing his tools and effects strapped across its back. Its crimson eyes were dull, flicking around the courtyard like an animal, panted in the desert heat, pointed tongue hanging from its muzzle.
Other scholars and their own porters went to and fro past him some returning, others going. More congregated, speaking in low voices amongst the columns as they made the final checks before beginning their journeys.
The wind kicked up, sand spun, a whirling vortice out along the Godpath, and she stepped through.
The children of Sahkmis were imposing, even among the blood of the goods. Towering nearly a full meter taller than him, muscle rippled under skin like burnished bronze, lit from within by the molten heat of the noonday sun, shining through the lines of muscle tone. Her hair was like a lion's mane, ruddy and red, worn barbarically loose around her shoulders.
Now he turned to face her, and clapped his fists together before his chest, lowering his head. "Dendera XIV Malikhet, be welcome in the House of All Secrets. The blood of Dihauti greets the blood of his niece Sahkmis, and welcomes her upon his threshold."
"Cold of you Hori," She rumbled, coming to stand before him, looming, her crossed arms bulged with muscle, as thick as his thighs. He caught a flash of her teeth, sharp and predatory. "Not even a handclasp?"
"Please, at least perform the proper rite before starting this," Hori said tiredly.
She huffed, and her hand cut through the air in a martial salute. "The blood of Sakhmis greets the Far Seeing one, her Uncle, Dihauti of the Silver Eye. I accept your welcome upon the threshold, brief as it may be."
"Good enough, Hori?"
He let his hands fall, struggling not to roll his eyes. "Good enough Dendera."
He looked up at her with pursed lips. "How much do you know of our task?"
"I am to be as the guardian, the fierce storm scouring away those children of night, as you and the other we meet do your work. We go to the Old City, to mournful Faiyun, to see that the fires burn and the obelisks stand."
He nodded tersely. "Good enough. Yes, we go west as the river bends first, to Tephren, to meet with a scion of Startamer, Mistress of All Spells, the Goddess Aset, who will open the way to the Throne of the Dead King, where the Lady's late husband sleeps."
For once her cocky slightly mocking expression shifted, showing a hint of worry in pursed lips and a raised eyebrow. "So deep? I imagined we might simply be scouring the dunes and replacing the warding obelisks."
"We learn more with the scion of Aset. I was only informed that the Lord of the Black Earth stirs in death," Hori said.
It was much easier to put aside his reticence for this, now that he knew the task was so serious.
"Hah, well perhaps this will be interesting after all," Dendera rumbled, glancing out west, beyond the course of the river. "Ready to get walking then, Hori?"
"I am," he said, snapping his fingers to call his porter to attention. The dreg lunged to its feet, bounding up to stand behind him, wobbling only slightly from the weight of the stone cabinet on its back.
The Godpaths were a fascinating subject in their own right, the roads paved in the realm of souls by Pteru's wanderings during the age of the First Sun, when the world was yet in flux after the sundering of the primordial sea and the formation of the lands as they knew them today. He had put in requests to be included in the reclaiming expeditions, to restore those which had broken and expand those which had been worn down, but he was yet too junior to be considered. If he…
"Eye's ahead Hori. The Paths are not kind to those with wind blowing between their ears."
He glanced at Dendera irritably. "One can ponder more than one thought at a time, or at least I may," he replied.
The bruise colored sky over their heads, staining the sandstone path which wound through the glittering emptiness dark red, was an ill omen itself. He would not be surprised if far more things were on the move than their little maintenance expedition.
The dark green ankh's which burned along the sides of the Path, warding it from the unformed soul space around burned brightly, but every so often he caught a flicker in one. He was counting and compiling his observations on the pattern and frequency of the flickers in a third thought thread.
"Ah, yes, of course, foolish I, who does not divide their thoughts until they are all roaming about like a hoard of bored temple cats," Dendera drawled.
"There is nothing to say, we both know our duties," Hori grumbled.
"It is so," Dendera shrugged, making a show of shading her eyes despite the sourceless nature of light in the Paths as she peered ahead. "No regrets?"
"Do you have any?" Hori shot back. He did not need to spend his days with someone who fundamentally disrespected his work and interests.
"None," she replied tersely. "I spoke only true words."
"Then why bring it up?" Hori replied. He peered ahead himself. There was the outline of Tephren in this realm. Or rather, the vast white pyramid of gleaming seven colored force, inscribed with a million warding spells, each potent enough to unmake even lesser gods.
The Citadel of the Queen Mother, Goddess Aset, Master of All Names.
And there ahead of them on the road was a figure waiting for them.
They were slender for godkin, dark eyes lined with kohl, and lips painted white, their hair arranged in the black and dark blue braids in imitation of the God's own visage, they wore a gown of white and gold, inscribed with glyphs and the names of spirits bound to their will. Most prominently, from their shoulders sprouted wings of scintillating colored feathers, folded before them in patient waiting, a sign of the Queen-Mother's favor.
"Welcome, the Citadel of Aset thanks the Houses of Dihauti and Sahkmis for their prompt attention," their voice was a whispering, breathy thing, that nonetheless echoed clearly in the still air.
"The wrathful wind rises always at the word of the avenger of the First Sun," Dendera rumbled.
"And the Far Seeing knows the Mistress of Magics does not call without need," Hori said, clasping his own fists. "Though this scholar is curious, should this matter not rise to the Pharaoh's house?"
It did, after all, involve the stirring of his father's grave.
"This cannot involve the Third Sun. The Blood of Horakhty cannot enter the realms of the dead. This is forbidden, by pact and price paid by the Goddess. I cannot speak more of this," They said calmly. "Will that suffice for your curiosity, secret seeker?"
"It will, and my apologies," Hori said, lowering his head.
"You'll get that poking nose cut off one day, Hori," Dendera said. "Who do we speak to?"
"This messenger bears the title Lapis."
Their name was still held in Aset's vaults then. That temple's practices were most restrictive.
"Fine. Where do we go now, Lapis?"
"Now, I show thee to the gates, and you will prepare to face the Dead King's troubled dreams."
He turned his gaze to the single point of connection between the House of All Secrets and the city below, the shining pale blue painted stairway carved into the side of the great helps meandering up its steep slope. He remembered his first time, observing Sleepers climbing the nine hundred steps, or rather, the six hundred a sleeper could perceive on their own. It was a grueling challenge of perception and wit, navigation of the soul maze which the stairs truly wound through, using only mortal senses and the clues and riddles left by the priests.
Young boys and girls, eyes shining with determination and intelligence, even as their parched lips bled and their exhausted limbs trembled. It was ever an inspiring site, a reminder to the blood of Dihauti that the cradle city Irem was an endless fount of new wisdom to add to the Mind of God.
Perhaps he should volunteer to be a proctor in a few years. Maybe if he had taken on more communal duties, he would not have been chosen for this task.
He felt her approach out here on the temple veranda, it came with the crying of the desert wind, the rippling heat haze of the dunes beyond, where the godpath wound through out of synch with the material world, stretching off to the more southerly temples in the network. It was a presence that stalked and loomed, a lion in the high grasses.
He refused to give her the satisfaction of reacting to her progression, remaining in his polite stance here at the temple gates, beneath the colorfully painted pillars cut with warding glyphs and temple history. His porter dreg stood hunched behind him, the stone chest containing his tools and effects strapped across its back. Its crimson eyes were dull, flicking around the courtyard like an animal, panted in the desert heat, pointed tongue hanging from its muzzle.
Other scholars and their own porters went to and fro past him some returning, others going. More congregated, speaking in low voices amongst the columns as they made the final checks before beginning their journeys.
The wind kicked up, sand spun, a whirling vortice out along the Godpath, and she stepped through.
The children of Sahkmis were imposing, even among the blood of the goods. Towering nearly a full meter taller than him, muscle rippled under skin like burnished bronze, lit from within by the molten heat of the noonday sun, shining through the lines of muscle tone. Her hair was like a lion's mane, ruddy and red, worn barbarically loose around her shoulders.
Now he turned to face her, and clapped his fists together before his chest, lowering his head. "Dendera XIV Malikhet, be welcome in the House of All Secrets. The blood of Dihauti greets the blood of his niece Sahkmis, and welcomes her upon his threshold."
"Cold of you Hori," She rumbled, coming to stand before him, looming, her crossed arms bulged with muscle, as thick as his thighs. He caught a flash of her teeth, sharp and predatory. "Not even a handclasp?"
"Please, at least perform the proper rite before starting this," Hori said tiredly.
She huffed, and her hand cut through the air in a martial salute. "The blood of Sakhmis greets the Far Seeing one, her Uncle, Dihauti of the Silver Eye. I accept your welcome upon the threshold, brief as it may be."
"Good enough, Hori?"
He let his hands fall, struggling not to roll his eyes. "Good enough Dendera."
He looked up at her with pursed lips. "How much do you know of our task?"
"I am to be as the guardian, the fierce storm scouring away those children of night, as you and the other we meet do your work. We go to the Old City, to mournful Faiyun, to see that the fires burn and the obelisks stand."
He nodded tersely. "Good enough. Yes, we go west as the river bends first, to Tephren, to meet with a scion of Startamer, Mistress of All Spells, the Goddess Aset, who will open the way to the Throne of the Dead King, where the Lady's late husband sleeps."
For once her cocky slightly mocking expression shifted, showing a hint of worry in pursed lips and a raised eyebrow. "So deep? I imagined we might simply be scouring the dunes and replacing the warding obelisks."
"We learn more with the scion of Aset. I was only informed that the Lord of the Black Earth stirs in death," Hori said.
It was much easier to put aside his reticence for this, now that he knew the task was so serious.
"Hah, well perhaps this will be interesting after all," Dendera rumbled, glancing out west, beyond the course of the river. "Ready to get walking then, Hori?"
"I am," he said, snapping his fingers to call his porter to attention. The dreg lunged to its feet, bounding up to stand behind him, wobbling only slightly from the weight of the stone cabinet on its back.
***
The Godpaths were a fascinating subject in their own right, the roads paved in the realm of souls by Pteru's wanderings during the age of the First Sun, when the world was yet in flux after the sundering of the primordial sea and the formation of the lands as they knew them today. He had put in requests to be included in the reclaiming expeditions, to restore those which had broken and expand those which had been worn down, but he was yet too junior to be considered. If he…
"Eye's ahead Hori. The Paths are not kind to those with wind blowing between their ears."
He glanced at Dendera irritably. "One can ponder more than one thought at a time, or at least I may," he replied.
The bruise colored sky over their heads, staining the sandstone path which wound through the glittering emptiness dark red, was an ill omen itself. He would not be surprised if far more things were on the move than their little maintenance expedition.
The dark green ankh's which burned along the sides of the Path, warding it from the unformed soul space around burned brightly, but every so often he caught a flicker in one. He was counting and compiling his observations on the pattern and frequency of the flickers in a third thought thread.
"Ah, yes, of course, foolish I, who does not divide their thoughts until they are all roaming about like a hoard of bored temple cats," Dendera drawled.
"There is nothing to say, we both know our duties," Hori grumbled.
"It is so," Dendera shrugged, making a show of shading her eyes despite the sourceless nature of light in the Paths as she peered ahead. "No regrets?"
"Do you have any?" Hori shot back. He did not need to spend his days with someone who fundamentally disrespected his work and interests.
"None," she replied tersely. "I spoke only true words."
"Then why bring it up?" Hori replied. He peered ahead himself. There was the outline of Tephren in this realm. Or rather, the vast white pyramid of gleaming seven colored force, inscribed with a million warding spells, each potent enough to unmake even lesser gods.
The Citadel of the Queen Mother, Goddess Aset, Master of All Names.
And there ahead of them on the road was a figure waiting for them.
They were slender for godkin, dark eyes lined with kohl, and lips painted white, their hair arranged in the black and dark blue braids in imitation of the God's own visage, they wore a gown of white and gold, inscribed with glyphs and the names of spirits bound to their will. Most prominently, from their shoulders sprouted wings of scintillating colored feathers, folded before them in patient waiting, a sign of the Queen-Mother's favor.
"Welcome, the Citadel of Aset thanks the Houses of Dihauti and Sahkmis for their prompt attention," their voice was a whispering, breathy thing, that nonetheless echoed clearly in the still air.
"The wrathful wind rises always at the word of the avenger of the First Sun," Dendera rumbled.
"And the Far Seeing knows the Mistress of Magics does not call without need," Hori said, clasping his own fists. "Though this scholar is curious, should this matter not rise to the Pharaoh's house?"
It did, after all, involve the stirring of his father's grave.
"This cannot involve the Third Sun. The Blood of Horakhty cannot enter the realms of the dead. This is forbidden, by pact and price paid by the Goddess. I cannot speak more of this," They said calmly. "Will that suffice for your curiosity, secret seeker?"
"It will, and my apologies," Hori said, lowering his head.
"You'll get that poking nose cut off one day, Hori," Dendera said. "Who do we speak to?"
"This messenger bears the title Lapis."
Their name was still held in Aset's vaults then. That temple's practices were most restrictive.
"Fine. Where do we go now, Lapis?"
"Now, I show thee to the gates, and you will prepare to face the Dead King's troubled dreams."
- Location
- Chicago
- Pronouns
- She/They
Far side of the grave of the sun, I think, the Egyptian inspired kingdom. I liked the godpath, and the implication of a second sun, beyond the one that died to the Twilight King, that is also missing.
I'm interested to see how they handle the ash walkers.
I'm interested to see how they handle the ash walkers.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
The two of them used to date, I think...they knew each other and had a falling out anyway. They're going and investigating why a dead king is stirring.
- Location
- New Zealand
So, we have a priest worshipping where each is bound to the idea of the god/dess in question.
Dihauti would be Thoth, recorder of all knowledge and knower of all things.
Sahkmis sounds like Sekmet (or Sachmis - lion goddess born from the elder sun god's eye to protect him and destroy his foes)
So, they would be protectors and martial cultivators.
Finally, the new person at the end. Aset would be Isis (who took aspect of a winged woman) and was the "magic and healing" goddess of ancient Egypt in that she knew many names (and names had particular power in Egyptian mythology as they were thought to be one of the major components of the soul), including potentially even one of the true names of Ra himself.
And they need to deal with the troubled dreams of Osiris (who is dead, and thus rules the realm of the dead).
The "Lord of the Black Earth" point is curious, while I would normally assume this means Osiris as he hold dominion over the "black lands" (the fertile lands that the people settled on) Set also has associations with Black lands (if less prominent).
Also notable, the "Blood of Horakhty" means the bloodline of Horus, from which the pharaohs were said to directly descend. I assume them not being able to enter the underworld relates to when Aset recreated Horus's father Osiris (as he had been murdered and his body scattered) and conceived Horus.
So basically, we have a scholar (of thoth), a warrior (berserker of Sekmet) and a mage (probably also a notable healer of Isis). Pretty classic three party setup and they need to go figure out what has disturbed the dreams of a dead god (Osiris).
Dihauti would be Thoth, recorder of all knowledge and knower of all things.
Sahkmis sounds like Sekmet (or Sachmis - lion goddess born from the elder sun god's eye to protect him and destroy his foes)
So, they would be protectors and martial cultivators.
Finally, the new person at the end. Aset would be Isis (who took aspect of a winged woman) and was the "magic and healing" goddess of ancient Egypt in that she knew many names (and names had particular power in Egyptian mythology as they were thought to be one of the major components of the soul), including potentially even one of the true names of Ra himself.
And they need to deal with the troubled dreams of Osiris (who is dead, and thus rules the realm of the dead).
The "Lord of the Black Earth" point is curious, while I would normally assume this means Osiris as he hold dominion over the "black lands" (the fertile lands that the people settled on) Set also has associations with Black lands (if less prominent).
Also notable, the "Blood of Horakhty" means the bloodline of Horus, from which the pharaohs were said to directly descend. I assume them not being able to enter the underworld relates to when Aset recreated Horus's father Osiris (as he had been murdered and his body scattered) and conceived Horus.
So basically, we have a scholar (of thoth), a warrior (berserker of Sekmet) and a mage (probably also a notable healer of Isis). Pretty classic three party setup and they need to go figure out what has disturbed the dreams of a dead god (Osiris).
Really love seeing foreign cultures and cultivation it's really cool.
Sirrocco
Pedantic
Pretty sure that the falling out was something like...
- They were involved romantically.
- The woman had essentially zero respect for some fundamental aspect of his craft or art. Her Dao-equivalent called on her to straightforward honesty (just as his calls on him to seek secrets). Eventually, the topic came up (possibly in the middle of an argument) and she said so.
- He decided that he simply was not willing to deal with that (or possibly was not willing to deal with that on top of everything else) and broke it off.
It's interesting that the Dao-equivalents are all following very specific paths. Like, it looks like each sect-equivalent emulates a specific God, and the equivalent of the cultivation techniques and also Dao are heavily influenced by that. Meanwhile, they also have very specific relationships with one another, not just sect-to-sect, but god-to-god, which in turn is reflected by the relationship between the sects and (at least formally) the relationships between individuals.
- They were involved romantically.
- The woman had essentially zero respect for some fundamental aspect of his craft or art. Her Dao-equivalent called on her to straightforward honesty (just as his calls on him to seek secrets). Eventually, the topic came up (possibly in the middle of an argument) and she said so.
- He decided that he simply was not willing to deal with that (or possibly was not willing to deal with that on top of everything else) and broke it off.
It's interesting that the Dao-equivalents are all following very specific paths. Like, it looks like each sect-equivalent emulates a specific God, and the equivalent of the cultivation techniques and also Dao are heavily influenced by that. Meanwhile, they also have very specific relationships with one another, not just sect-to-sect, but god-to-god, which in turn is reflected by the relationship between the sects and (at least formally) the relationships between individuals.
That is neat. Sounds like permanent paths made in the Liminal by a Great Spirit equivalent. There were a bunch of Empire scholars that theorized about doing this with captured Muses/Spirits, but it sounds like even with a Great Spirit backing it, the maintenance requirements are murderous.
- Location
- Spain
- Pronouns
- He/Him
...scion of Startamer, Mistress of All Spells, the Goddess Aset
So few words but so many interesting things and questions!! 😳
Year 45, Month 13, Arc 3-3
"I am surprised you take so well to being in the light."
Shu Yue's head tilted, their ear nearly touching their shoulder as they looked down at her. It earned barely a glance as they wandered down a branch boulevard lined with impromptu stalls, hawking festival goods of all kinds. Her eyes wandered across the crowd. They were not walking unnoticed. Eyes were not sliding across them, and though she did see passerby giving her mentor enough of a berth that they were not brushed and jostled like she was…
It was much less than her expectations.
"Here, I am known," Shu Yue said simply. There was a little bit of wistful wonder in their voice, as they stretched out a long arm, and dropped a few glittering stones on a stall counter, plucking a basket full of still steaming jam filled buns.
Ling Qi took on when Shu Yue offered it, inhaling the scent of spice and the fruit jam and the dough, along with the streamers of light airy qi infused into it. It was no pill or elixir, but potent nonetheless.
Shu Yue's jaw stretched strangely as they they tossed a bun into their mouth. They did not chew.
"Do you actually taste things?" Ling Qi asked absently.
"I bet they do," Sixiang said, squinting down at their own bun, before taking a nibbling bite. "Just uses different mechanics eh? I'm still kinda getting the hang of things."
"Mortal foods have little flavor, but this, I enjoy well enough. It is as the muse says," Shu Yue said calmly.
Ling Qi hummed, taking a bite of her own bun. Her eyes widened a fraction as the sweet jam released a burst of sweet qi over her tongue along with the jam. Combined with the airy qi in the dough, it left her with a pleasant buzz on her tongue as she savored chewing it. She hadn't felt her mouth water so since the first days of the Sect, with its unlimited access to a bounty she couldn't have dreamed of in Tonghou.
…When did she decide she couldn't be bothered with such things anymore? She couldn't even remember.
"Want is never a static thing, a single thing. When we are fulfilled we only turn to yearning for what else we do not have. Even as old wants fade into the background," Shu Yue said. "In this there is the bottomless hunger of those who are naught but darkness is not wrong."
"Contentment can be fleeting, but to have so little of it… no those things are incomplete existences. Without the ability to hold anything…"
"A vessel which leaks away all its contents is a useless one indeed. Any potter would be ashamed to sculpt such a thing," Shu Yue chuckled.
Ling Qi ducked her head, falling silent as she took another bite, allowing the moment to pass in silence. "...I did not mean insult."
"I took none. The nameless wraith is not Shu Yue, or rather not all of them. Shu Yue lives here, the mind atop the seething thing beneath," they said, tapping their chin. "But this is not unique, save in its artificiality. You understand?"
…Humans were not only their consciousness, the thoughts and feelings and mind at the fore. Instinct, drive, Want, it bubbled up from beneath those things, the dark soil and roots from which the lotus bloomed.
"Hah, yeah, the same stuff we muses are made of. Its no wonder most of us flit around for awhile and then explode like a firework when whatever got enough bits together to make a go at being person goes away," Sixiang laughed. "And man, I gotta hand it to ya, going 'maskless' is a heck of a lot easier."
She shot her friend an unamused look.
"A face has its benefits," Shu Yue rasped. "You cling to yours tightly indeed, muse."
"I do, yeah," Sixiang said, glancing toward Ling Qi with a winning smile.
She brushed the crumbs of dough off of her fingers as they entered another square, where the paths to other branches converged. This one was far less raucous than the last, rather than a strange device dispensing potent alcohol, there was a great bonfire in the center, burning with some kind of smokeless flame that cycled between the shades of visible color. There were only a thin few motes of fire qi in the whole display, most of it arising from…. Earth qi? How strange. It appeared to be burning some sort of rock for fuel though, so that made sense.
People were making merry around it though, as they would any other bonfire, men and women inf ine robes clapping and dancing just the same as rustic mortals would at a mundane festival.
"I suspect we aren't here to dance," Ling Qi said quietly.
"I would be entertained, but known or no, I would only cast a pall," Shu Yue said amusedly. "You are correct. "I will leave you to enjoy the material when the lesson is done. "Come, our venue is this way."
Ling Qi followed them curiously as they skirted the edfe of the crowd, parting them with little effort, until she saw ahead a spot of darkness in the bright festival lights. It was a building… a concert hall she thought, dark and empty inside, and even she could not feel so much as an echo of song from within it.
"...I am surprised something could remain empty for so long here in the Cloud District. What was it?"
"The concert hall of one of the apprentices of Grandmaster Jiang," Shu Yue said as they stepped from the center of the street onto the tiled path which lead to the shadowed doors. The sounds of the street so bright and loud a moment ago, became muted only a few steps. Down that path.
Ling Qi regarded it curiously. Despite the dust, even the cobwebs clinging to the eaves and faded, peeling walls… She did not believe for one second this place was abandoned.
"What kinda sticky end did he come too?" Sixiang asked casually.
"His Father was the vice minister of the Ministry of Law. I believe the Hui liaison to the Ministry ordered that his Father carry out the execution order personally. The son submitted himself to his father's blade when he heard his Master had already fallen," Shu Yue replied, their fingers brushed the heavy wooden doors, and they creaked open loud and slow.
Ling Qi closed her eyes as the cold interior air washed over them, musty, thick with grief and melancholy. "...This is your house then, teacher?"
Shu Yue's lips curled up, almost to their ears. "Yes. One could say this. I would call it a… studio. I have little need for what most do with a 'house'."
"So you've preserved it in this state for a reason," Ling Qi said, looking into the yawning entry hall. There were shadows within that her eyes could not penetrate, and she could feel the subtle warping of space within, the signs of a place half immersed int the liminal.
"The unquiet spirits have been exercorcised, but I find the ambience useful to my meditations," Shu Yue agreed. They ducked low, their spine crackling like breaking ice as they stepped inside and half turned, beckoning her with a a pale hand. "It is a thin place, as you can feel."
"You got that right," Sixiang said, stepping in ahead of her and peering around. They waved their hand through the air and it rippled like a silk curtain that had been disturbed.
Ling Qi followed after, feeling the atmosphere of the place on her skin like a cold wind as the door drifted shut behind them, closing off all light. "And this is where you feel comfortable giving the lighter lesson?"
"Indeed."
Shu Yue said no more than that, leaving them to follow down the hall, through the ripples of stretched space.
"What is the foundation of Want?"
Ling Qi paused, behind Shu Yue as they came too a larger set of internal doors. Ornate things, painted with peeling red color. The doorframe was lovingly carved into a wreathe of flowers and vines, all of it was dull with dust. Dust that stayed in place even as the portal creaked open with agonizing slowness before her mentor's silhouette.
"Hunger. The foundation of want is hunger, the base needs of the body," Ling Qi said. "In the absence of food, of drink, of warmth, of company, all other things fade."
"Oh? Such a prosaic answer," Shu Yue said neutrally passing into the ill lit hall beyond.
Even with her senses, it was hard to perceive the full details, but she could feel the capacity of it, the high ceiling, the distant walls, the thick but faded carpet and the grooves in the floor where seating benches had once been fixed.
Ling Qi chuckled quietly. "I think anyone who has another one should cease regulating their digestion with qi and go without repast until their limbs are weak and their head spins, until their stomach feels like a desperate animal howling for release, and the idea of digging through a trash heap for a scrap of sustenance is no longer repulsive."
She spoke lightly, but those memories would never leave her. She had bound them up in her domain blade, so that she would never forget isolation and privation, never let her roots become something distant and dreamed of.
"Good. You have your answer, and the will to defend it," Shu Yue said. There was a whisper and rustle of cloth as they turned to face her. In the shadows of the hall their round face and long hands were almost luminous, points of light in the dark. "My answer is this. The foundation of Want is the avoidance of pain, and retribution for what cannot be avoided."
Ling Qi pondered this, she could see the reflection of her own answer in this, but it was not quite the same.
"Man both of ya'll are gloomy. Can't you say Want is the desire for better things?" Sixiang said, they wandered away from her, their own frame a faint glow in the hall as they wandered further in.
"That comes later."
Both she and Shu Yue spoke at the same time, her voice overlapping the elder cultivators raspy whisper.
Sixiang gave a sigh of performative disgust, throwing up their hands helplessly.
Ling Qi chuckled. "It is the pain of lacking that drives hunger. But retribution…? It can drive you strongly, but it seems absurd to call such a luxury foundational."
She recalled her friend Bai Meizhen and the girls frustration with her lacking drive to punish Yan Renshu… at least compared to her own. It was well and to pay back grudges, but that was the privilege of the strong. The foundation of Want lay in weakness.
"Because what harmed you most was negligence and apathy. Malice was only ever a fleeting thing, a raised fist and a shout from a face who would forget you in a matter of hours," Shu Yue said clinically. "Thus your answer."
Ling Qi was silent as her mentor lowered their head thoughtfully, their inky black hair spilling almost to the floor. Her joking smile faded as she looked up into Shu Yue's blank face
"When you are scoured by malice, when it is not the cold world blurring by which harms you, when privation and suffering have a face. That is where my answer grows," Shu Yue's rasp echoed deeply, and the building groaned in response, the walls shuddering. Something sloshed beneath the floorboards, the scent of copper and the bitter scent of terror sweat reached her nose. "Then. Then you may know what it is to Want retribution, even if it should starve you, should freeze you, should burn you, even should it hollow you out and take every meager scrap within. All of that if only the one who hurts you could be made to stop, could be made to suffer."
Children laughing, children sobbing, to mingled together to tell which was which.
"Spite and resentment are intrinsic to the hearts of men. Though you may be on the path to carving them away, I would not suggest it. You will not know the hearts of others without them," Shu Yue said. The skin crawling sounds of children receding back into the depths of the theater. You should know how much one may harm themselves to fulfill a grudge."
"...Yan renshu is the strange one though," Ling Qi said. "Others…"
Shu Yue was silent. "He is not so strange as you think. It was not merely the casting off of shackles for which the cultivators of Xiangmen roar their joy."
"It was the fulfillment of their deepest yearning to see the webs of heaven burn."
Shu Yue's head tilted, their ear nearly touching their shoulder as they looked down at her. It earned barely a glance as they wandered down a branch boulevard lined with impromptu stalls, hawking festival goods of all kinds. Her eyes wandered across the crowd. They were not walking unnoticed. Eyes were not sliding across them, and though she did see passerby giving her mentor enough of a berth that they were not brushed and jostled like she was…
It was much less than her expectations.
"Here, I am known," Shu Yue said simply. There was a little bit of wistful wonder in their voice, as they stretched out a long arm, and dropped a few glittering stones on a stall counter, plucking a basket full of still steaming jam filled buns.
Ling Qi took on when Shu Yue offered it, inhaling the scent of spice and the fruit jam and the dough, along with the streamers of light airy qi infused into it. It was no pill or elixir, but potent nonetheless.
Shu Yue's jaw stretched strangely as they they tossed a bun into their mouth. They did not chew.
"Do you actually taste things?" Ling Qi asked absently.
"I bet they do," Sixiang said, squinting down at their own bun, before taking a nibbling bite. "Just uses different mechanics eh? I'm still kinda getting the hang of things."
"Mortal foods have little flavor, but this, I enjoy well enough. It is as the muse says," Shu Yue said calmly.
Ling Qi hummed, taking a bite of her own bun. Her eyes widened a fraction as the sweet jam released a burst of sweet qi over her tongue along with the jam. Combined with the airy qi in the dough, it left her with a pleasant buzz on her tongue as she savored chewing it. She hadn't felt her mouth water so since the first days of the Sect, with its unlimited access to a bounty she couldn't have dreamed of in Tonghou.
…When did she decide she couldn't be bothered with such things anymore? She couldn't even remember.
"Want is never a static thing, a single thing. When we are fulfilled we only turn to yearning for what else we do not have. Even as old wants fade into the background," Shu Yue said. "In this there is the bottomless hunger of those who are naught but darkness is not wrong."
"Contentment can be fleeting, but to have so little of it… no those things are incomplete existences. Without the ability to hold anything…"
"A vessel which leaks away all its contents is a useless one indeed. Any potter would be ashamed to sculpt such a thing," Shu Yue chuckled.
Ling Qi ducked her head, falling silent as she took another bite, allowing the moment to pass in silence. "...I did not mean insult."
"I took none. The nameless wraith is not Shu Yue, or rather not all of them. Shu Yue lives here, the mind atop the seething thing beneath," they said, tapping their chin. "But this is not unique, save in its artificiality. You understand?"
…Humans were not only their consciousness, the thoughts and feelings and mind at the fore. Instinct, drive, Want, it bubbled up from beneath those things, the dark soil and roots from which the lotus bloomed.
"Hah, yeah, the same stuff we muses are made of. Its no wonder most of us flit around for awhile and then explode like a firework when whatever got enough bits together to make a go at being person goes away," Sixiang laughed. "And man, I gotta hand it to ya, going 'maskless' is a heck of a lot easier."
She shot her friend an unamused look.
"A face has its benefits," Shu Yue rasped. "You cling to yours tightly indeed, muse."
"I do, yeah," Sixiang said, glancing toward Ling Qi with a winning smile.
She brushed the crumbs of dough off of her fingers as they entered another square, where the paths to other branches converged. This one was far less raucous than the last, rather than a strange device dispensing potent alcohol, there was a great bonfire in the center, burning with some kind of smokeless flame that cycled between the shades of visible color. There were only a thin few motes of fire qi in the whole display, most of it arising from…. Earth qi? How strange. It appeared to be burning some sort of rock for fuel though, so that made sense.
People were making merry around it though, as they would any other bonfire, men and women inf ine robes clapping and dancing just the same as rustic mortals would at a mundane festival.
"I suspect we aren't here to dance," Ling Qi said quietly.
"I would be entertained, but known or no, I would only cast a pall," Shu Yue said amusedly. "You are correct. "I will leave you to enjoy the material when the lesson is done. "Come, our venue is this way."
Ling Qi followed them curiously as they skirted the edfe of the crowd, parting them with little effort, until she saw ahead a spot of darkness in the bright festival lights. It was a building… a concert hall she thought, dark and empty inside, and even she could not feel so much as an echo of song from within it.
"...I am surprised something could remain empty for so long here in the Cloud District. What was it?"
"The concert hall of one of the apprentices of Grandmaster Jiang," Shu Yue said as they stepped from the center of the street onto the tiled path which lead to the shadowed doors. The sounds of the street so bright and loud a moment ago, became muted only a few steps. Down that path.
Ling Qi regarded it curiously. Despite the dust, even the cobwebs clinging to the eaves and faded, peeling walls… She did not believe for one second this place was abandoned.
"What kinda sticky end did he come too?" Sixiang asked casually.
"His Father was the vice minister of the Ministry of Law. I believe the Hui liaison to the Ministry ordered that his Father carry out the execution order personally. The son submitted himself to his father's blade when he heard his Master had already fallen," Shu Yue replied, their fingers brushed the heavy wooden doors, and they creaked open loud and slow.
Ling Qi closed her eyes as the cold interior air washed over them, musty, thick with grief and melancholy. "...This is your house then, teacher?"
Shu Yue's lips curled up, almost to their ears. "Yes. One could say this. I would call it a… studio. I have little need for what most do with a 'house'."
"So you've preserved it in this state for a reason," Ling Qi said, looking into the yawning entry hall. There were shadows within that her eyes could not penetrate, and she could feel the subtle warping of space within, the signs of a place half immersed int the liminal.
"The unquiet spirits have been exercorcised, but I find the ambience useful to my meditations," Shu Yue agreed. They ducked low, their spine crackling like breaking ice as they stepped inside and half turned, beckoning her with a a pale hand. "It is a thin place, as you can feel."
"You got that right," Sixiang said, stepping in ahead of her and peering around. They waved their hand through the air and it rippled like a silk curtain that had been disturbed.
Ling Qi followed after, feeling the atmosphere of the place on her skin like a cold wind as the door drifted shut behind them, closing off all light. "And this is where you feel comfortable giving the lighter lesson?"
"Indeed."
Shu Yue said no more than that, leaving them to follow down the hall, through the ripples of stretched space.
"What is the foundation of Want?"
Ling Qi paused, behind Shu Yue as they came too a larger set of internal doors. Ornate things, painted with peeling red color. The doorframe was lovingly carved into a wreathe of flowers and vines, all of it was dull with dust. Dust that stayed in place even as the portal creaked open with agonizing slowness before her mentor's silhouette.
"Hunger. The foundation of want is hunger, the base needs of the body," Ling Qi said. "In the absence of food, of drink, of warmth, of company, all other things fade."
"Oh? Such a prosaic answer," Shu Yue said neutrally passing into the ill lit hall beyond.
Even with her senses, it was hard to perceive the full details, but she could feel the capacity of it, the high ceiling, the distant walls, the thick but faded carpet and the grooves in the floor where seating benches had once been fixed.
Ling Qi chuckled quietly. "I think anyone who has another one should cease regulating their digestion with qi and go without repast until their limbs are weak and their head spins, until their stomach feels like a desperate animal howling for release, and the idea of digging through a trash heap for a scrap of sustenance is no longer repulsive."
She spoke lightly, but those memories would never leave her. She had bound them up in her domain blade, so that she would never forget isolation and privation, never let her roots become something distant and dreamed of.
"Good. You have your answer, and the will to defend it," Shu Yue said. There was a whisper and rustle of cloth as they turned to face her. In the shadows of the hall their round face and long hands were almost luminous, points of light in the dark. "My answer is this. The foundation of Want is the avoidance of pain, and retribution for what cannot be avoided."
Ling Qi pondered this, she could see the reflection of her own answer in this, but it was not quite the same.
"Man both of ya'll are gloomy. Can't you say Want is the desire for better things?" Sixiang said, they wandered away from her, their own frame a faint glow in the hall as they wandered further in.
"That comes later."
Both she and Shu Yue spoke at the same time, her voice overlapping the elder cultivators raspy whisper.
Sixiang gave a sigh of performative disgust, throwing up their hands helplessly.
Ling Qi chuckled. "It is the pain of lacking that drives hunger. But retribution…? It can drive you strongly, but it seems absurd to call such a luxury foundational."
She recalled her friend Bai Meizhen and the girls frustration with her lacking drive to punish Yan Renshu… at least compared to her own. It was well and to pay back grudges, but that was the privilege of the strong. The foundation of Want lay in weakness.
"Because what harmed you most was negligence and apathy. Malice was only ever a fleeting thing, a raised fist and a shout from a face who would forget you in a matter of hours," Shu Yue said clinically. "Thus your answer."
Ling Qi was silent as her mentor lowered their head thoughtfully, their inky black hair spilling almost to the floor. Her joking smile faded as she looked up into Shu Yue's blank face
"When you are scoured by malice, when it is not the cold world blurring by which harms you, when privation and suffering have a face. That is where my answer grows," Shu Yue's rasp echoed deeply, and the building groaned in response, the walls shuddering. Something sloshed beneath the floorboards, the scent of copper and the bitter scent of terror sweat reached her nose. "Then. Then you may know what it is to Want retribution, even if it should starve you, should freeze you, should burn you, even should it hollow you out and take every meager scrap within. All of that if only the one who hurts you could be made to stop, could be made to suffer."
Children laughing, children sobbing, to mingled together to tell which was which.
"Spite and resentment are intrinsic to the hearts of men. Though you may be on the path to carving them away, I would not suggest it. You will not know the hearts of others without them," Shu Yue said. The skin crawling sounds of children receding back into the depths of the theater. You should know how much one may harm themselves to fulfill a grudge."
"...Yan renshu is the strange one though," Ling Qi said. "Others…"
Shu Yue was silent. "He is not so strange as you think. It was not merely the casting off of shackles for which the cultivators of Xiangmen roar their joy."
"It was the fulfillment of their deepest yearning to see the webs of heaven burn."
*****
A small afterward, If you enjoy the quest, please consider dropping a few dollars to the patreon or for a fun bit of merch. For patrons even as quest followers you get early access to commissions, full access to Journey to the East as well as the new sidestory featuring Meizhen's trip in Zhengjian underway as well as first access to new stories if I make them!
Check out them out!
Patreon
and
Destiny Store
Thank you your readership and participation in the Quest!
*****
AN: Still wrong about the length till the vote but hopefully folks enjoy this stretch with Shu Yue.
A small afterward, If you enjoy the quest, please consider dropping a few dollars to the patreon or for a fun bit of merch. For patrons even as quest followers you get early access to commissions, full access to Journey to the East as well as the new sidestory featuring Meizhen's trip in Zhengjian underway as well as first access to new stories if I make them!
Check out them out!
Patreon
and
Destiny Store
Thank you your readership and participation in the Quest!
*****
AN: Still wrong about the length till the vote but hopefully folks enjoy this stretch with Shu Yue.
It probably is, even in normal times, at least the high end neighbourhoods.
But right now we have a biggest wedding of millennia, so it will be this bad for all of our visit.
Reminds me of Bai Fuxi, who was so unable to see that what Sun Shao wanted wasnt just that the Bai that killed his family was shuffled off to the side (to what would likely have been his death9 but Wanted to see that Bai punished. Enough so that when he wasnt Sun Shao went into rebellion
- Location
- Staring into the void
They're still celebrating the liberation from the Hui. The party might wind down in another 400 years...
Shu Yue isn't normal but they have their won means of sensing the world.
That's a very good question, but I think Shu Yue is right about Wnat not being static.
Yeah that's a sufficiently tragic story to have an aura like that.
LQ's Want is heavily formed by her experinces.
For all that their Wants are similar they are a little different.
She does view retribution as a luxury rather then a need.
Yeah this burning anger is what sets apart the previous generation from the current one.
And that is what forms the Tyrant of Revolution.
Died due to the overdose of cultivation drugs (aka, got killed by the Hui for being an artist not inline with party), was explained during our first date dinner with Bao Qian.
