"I don't know that I believe that. Out there…. There are so many emotions in the air. Joy and relief and and anticipation and a hundred others. I don't doubt that joy can be born from the ashes of rage, but I think it is wrong to say that what is happening today is still that," Ling Qi said.
She focused down on her senses, drawing on the cool dark qi that flowed through her meridians, letting it flow through her eyes and ears more precisely. The crushing darkness of the studio lightened by fractions. She could see the outlines of the stage, the suggestion of moth eaten curtains still held up by fraying rope, the shallow stairs which descended toward it and the stumps and skeletons of the seating. She saw too many many shapes, set out haphazardly, without pattern or reason. Vases and urns, from tiny delicate things set atop broken pillars and nestled among the wreckage, to towering curved ceramic giants big enough to fit multiple men in their depths.
Shu Yue traced their long fingers along one such giant, set near the top of the shallow descending stairs. "They look to the future now, it is true. She drives that. Her light demands to be seen, to followed, to lead the way forward into something new.
But the past remains behind us. Its bloody maw and scarred muzzle nips at their heels. Even the Radiant Tyrant cannot slay such a beast. Ignoring its fetid breath on their backs will do you little good, even if they themselves no longer consciously acknowledge it," Shu Yue said calmly.
Ling Qi looked down, hands curling into fists beneath her sleeves. Qiyi shifted, silk rippling, she felt concern blooming through their bond, the question flitting by. Was this an attack? If it was… it was one she preferred to receive.
"...I know. I know beneath the praises for my accomplishment, for our summit, for our new peace… I can hear the drums of war, the anticipation of profit. I know I have bought peace with the White Sky through blood and land. That the greatest happiness even among my allies is toward the dream of crushing the Cloud Tribe threat once and for all."
Shu Yue remained silent tracing their hands over the painted patterns on their sculpture, geometric patterns which moved and crawled changing between one eyeblink and the next.
"I can't say I do not understand this. I saw Ogodei tear a city from the earth, in Elder Jiao's memory formations. I've seen the echoes in the liminal. I have seen a raid in progress, and know the tribes which attack have no more interest in the concept of mercy than our most furious retaliations," Ling Qi said.
"Grudges do not die without blood to drown them," Shu Yue agreed.
"But you still gotta find a point where people can agree to stop," Sixiang said. "I can't say I like that fat old nightmare draping itself over the whole mountain range. Really messes with the ambiance, you know?" Sixiang said flippantly. "Also, what the heck do you use these big ones for?"
They squinted up at a towering narrow necked vase. Ling Qi had almost mistaken it for a pillar in the dark.
"What man has always used pots of river clay for," Shu Yue said. "Storage. Preservation."
Ling Qi observed the urn Shu Yue leaned against more closely, again enhancing her eyes, to the point that they prickled uncomfortably with the qi impressed into her nerves. The shifting patterns, squiggling eerily under her gaze squirming like trapped insects until she could force them to make a kind of sense.
Meng Delun's snarling face looked back at, stark in black and grey, eyes pits of furious hate.
She recoiled, letting the qi flee from her eyes trickling away into her channels as she blinked away tears. "That isn't…"
"It is his grudges, no more. The man is dead," Shu Yue said. "I become. That is the nature of the faceless. In the old days, I would leave such husks behind, unknowing or caring of their pollution. I am a cleanlier hunter now."
"...and what do you do when they're emptied out?" Sixiang asked.
"They remain… meditation aids," Shu Yue said. "But, we stray. You do know then, even if you chose to put the thoughts away. Darker urges are as much a pat of men as brighter. I will accede to you that the rage which buoyed my Master unto the heavens to burn it down is a lesser thing now than it was in the days after. When men and women howled and clapped at each bleached skull scoured by her light… But their cheer still comes in memory of what she did, what she will do. There is another foe, after all. One who has begun to remind of old scars."
The ith. This most recent attack… the insidiousness of it did gnaw at her. It was an assault built to sow paranoia and distrust, especially if he observations were correct. It was… exactly the sort of thing which would stoke bad old memories, even more than the more bombastic attacks such as the one they had foiled.
She wondered how much the Ith-ia, the 'minds' understood what they were stirring.
Yes, if she cleared her preconceptions, spread her senses thin, let herself feel the ambience of celebration outside…
There was a building furor there. The celebration of life as it was, of joy in the now. For the future held violence. And not violence the participants were opposed too.
"Indeed. When the armies of the Emerald Seas march, it will be with a righteous fire in their bellies, and why not? Who are these beasts from beneath the earth who strike them beyond any bound of honor or custom, who sow bleeding, sickening harm beyond any Cloud Tribe raid," Shu Yue said clinically, stepping away from the massive urn holding the Meng Elder's grudges.
"Follow."
Ling Qi did, following in Shu Yue's shadow, Sixiang tailing along behind them. Ling Qi pondered Shu Yue's words. She knew that desire, want was not a thing which could be called good or bad, it arose from many corners. Her eyes saw more the desires which bent toward consumption and possession, and so she was less attentive to the passions which fed more destructive urges. While she did not think she was wrong. The desire, to consume, possess, to grow, was the greater urge, Shue Yue was right that she could not afford to ignore the Want that was retribution, was spite, was wrath.
She had seen well enough the ends which those could drive even a Sovereign too. It was why she had chosen the lesson she had after all, she'd known she would need to confront and learn to bend those things to her own ends as she developed the Thief of Names.
It just bothered her to find those kind of roots even in celebration and joy, just a little. It shouldn't she knew, but it did. She really had bought into Renxiang's ideas, hadn't she? Sixiang laid a hand on her shoulder as they descended. Down and down, further than should have really been possible given the physical space, until they came before the stage. Set on the floor there was a worn table, thick with dust and on it were numerous ceramics. Pots and urns and bowls. They were all small and humble things, compared to the gigantic vases which sat on the higher floor. Most were pitted, worn, even cracked, their patterns were simple and in some cases even childish, like the things Biyu made.
Somehow it was those ones which curdled her stomach the most.
"These are among my first pieces," Shu Yue said fondly, tracing their finger over the rim of a wide cracked bowl, splashed with bright, garish color that reminded her of Elder Jiao's robes. "Our next lesson will be in the days immediately before the ceremony. Until then, consider this… self study. You will select a piece, and cultivate on the grudges found within and their fulfillment, the echoes of the inner lives of those they once were. When we meet again, I will have questions,"
Ling Qi swallowed, these… felt awful. Like the coldest wind cutting her skin, like the most fetid trash she had ever pawed through in hope for scraps.
"...I understand. How do I…?"
"Simply select the that which resonates the most."
She examined the line grudge containers, eyes sweeping over each in turn. She thought…
[ ] An inkpot, fully cracked up one side, and missing its stopper, it smelled of coin and tears.
[ ] A elegant, high necked vase, painted with splotchy white glaze. The sound of clinking chains echoed from within.
AN: Little short this time, but that's what happens when they get split like this sometimes!