Interlude: Companion Quest

He truly was a foolish man.

In the shade of a tree outside of White Cloud Town on a hill overlooking the fields, Xuan Shi sat down, careful to be mindful of his injury. He let his head fall back against the trunk with a thunk. His hat tipped forward, falling down over his face, blocking out the world outside.

He did not know what he had expected. He should have learned by now that stories did not reflect reality.

An unusual bloodline only led to isolation.

The distant school, so far from the empty home, was not a place where the friendships of lifetimes were forged. The isolated and lonely heiress who buckled under the weight of expectation did not have any need for love to lighten her burden. Winning tournaments changed nothing. The mysterious and confusing girl who had intruded upon his life had never held any particular interest in him beyond friendly acquaintance, and in fact, his interest had frightened her.

Father had never intended to return for him. It had been a lie from the beginning.

<You’re being too hard on yourself. You just haven’t found your story yet,> a soothing voice whispered. <Your stand was worthy of prose at least, was it not?>

Xuan Shi did not think he had been particularly heroic. He had faced that creature out of desperation, knowing that Lady Bian’s skills were the only ones in their group which could hope to reach others. The pain of the blow he had suffered nearly overwhelmed him, and even now, his thoughts felt slow at the medicinal energies flowing in his veins, dulling the pain as the bones in his lower arm were regrown from shards.

Few Xuan were accustomed to pain, a side effect of their natural toughness. He had nearly fumbled his counter.

<But you did not,> the spirit said patiently. <You remained even though it seemed that you might die and kept the enemy’s ire even as your lifeblood spilled. That is why I came to you after all.>

“This one apologizes, Kongyou. This sulking is unbefitting,” he murmured aloud.

<I understand,> she whispered. <It was a little shocking. From your memories, she certainly never showed herself afraid.>

“In Miss Ling’s position, such fears are not to be advertised,” he said quietly. Still, it hurt. He had thought things were going well.

<Perhaps,> the spirit said, and he almost missed the hint of doubt in her voice. <But you shouldn’t be discouraged, my hero-to-be.>

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“This one is unworthy of such titles,” Xuan Shi replied. He sat up and reached up to adjust his hat. “This one is no child that needs constant reassurance.”

<Of course not, but you don’t get to decide what I think is worthy,> Kongyou said archly.

To that, he had no reply. Xuan Shi looked out over the fields where mortals performed their toil in silence. Despite himself, such words felt good. Even from his uncles, kindest of his caretakers, such direct praise was rare and sparing. Attracting the attention of a spirit of dream was the only good thing which had happened to him this year.