Prologue-Smelting

The carriage was impossibly fast, Ling Qi thought, as she stared out the tiny window at a landscape that was little more than a green and brown blur. She knew she should be excited, maybe awed; she was witnessing the power of Immortals after all. It wasn’t something a girl like her could have ever expected to see.

Instead, she simply felt numb. Absently, she brushed a strand of unruly black hair out of her eyes. She had let it get too long again, hanging down below her ears as it was. She was being taken to the Wall, the impassable mountains that formed the southern border of the Emerald Seas province. The carriage was bound for the Argent Sect that resided there, and it was all because a terrifying man in a porcelain mask had said that she had the talent to become an Immortal.

It was why she sometimes heard voices no one else could hear, why she could feel strange presences when she ventured out to the outskirts of the city where the wards against the spirit beasts were porous and weak. She had always assumed she had been born a bit crazy.

Boyish, inelegant, crazy Ling Qi, who ran away rather than play doll for her mother.

It had grated when she was younger, listening to her mother’s complaints about her appearance and demeanor, hearing the frustration in the woman’s voice when she talked about her. Ling Qi was too tall, too thick of limb, her skin too dark, and her features too long and lacking refinement.

She couldn’t say she regretted leaving. It wasn’t as if Mother had tried very hard to find her in the four years since she had run off. Ling Qi blew the stubborn strand of hair out of her eyes again and turned her thoughts away from the past. It was pointless now; she would never grow up to be like her Mother, and so, she had left. She was free, even if it meant facing hunger and cold. Even if it meant she had often been hurt or frightened. She might be ugly, be poor, but she was herself, did as she wanted, which to her was all that mattered. It had to be.

Which was why this grated on her.

She should have been ecstatic, the only commoner from her city that had the talent… Would any other denizen of Tonghou be able to raise their heads in front of her by the time she was done training? Would even Mother be able to criticize her? No, of course not.

She still wasn’t happy though, because once again she found herself without a choice. She had no money, no resources. Even if she had gone back to Mother, the woman wouldn’t have been able to pay the fees described by the recruiter, and if she had refused to go along to the sect, her talent would be removed. She hated the idea of something that was hers being taken away even more.

So once she was done training, she would owe the Empire eight years of military service instead. Not very long at all in an Immortal’s lifespan, she had been assured. Really she couldn’t say that the idea of facing off against the wind riding mountain barbarians like a figure out of a story didn’t excite her.

She just hated not having a choice.

Ling Qi shook her head and turned away from the blurring landscape outside the carriage window. The carriage was eerily quiet. More magic, she supposed, and despite her misgivings, she couldn’t help the spark of excitement she felt at the thought.

Still, it had been hours since they left, and she was bored. Even at this speed, it would still be some time until she arrived. So rather than continuing to mope about the past, she decided to turn her attention to the leather satchel sitting on the bench across from her. It contained her meager possessions: a few coins, some clothing, and an old wooden flute that she had liked to play on occasion. Mother’s music lessons had been one of her happier memories.

It also contained what she had been provided by the recruiter. Reaching over, Ling Qi picked up the bag and flipped it open. Peering inside, she ran her fingers over the bundle of grey cloth that sat on top. She once again marveled at the smooth softness of the material. Her disciple’s uniform, the man had said. Something provided to less well off disciples, since normal clothing would have difficulty holding up to the rigors of training.

There were a few other things too: a hand mirror, a comb, and a sewing kit, among a few other miscellaneous items. She supposed the implication was that she should make herself presentable before she arrived. She glanced down at her rather ragged brown shirt, pants, and muddy sandals. Not exactly the most impressive outfit.

This was the first time in a long time that it might matter though. She hadn’t had much time before she had been shuffled into the carriage. If she was going to make an effort, she should do it now. Ling Qi glanced toward the locked door on the other side of the carriage, then back toward the window. There was enough space at least; it really seemed like the carriage was meant for several people. After another moment contemplating the contents of the satchel, she drew the shutter down over the window and got to work changing.

Some time later, Ling Qi sat back down with a frown on her face, idly smoothing the wrinkles out of the amazingly soft gray fabric of the outfit she now wore. It was… nice, but she hadn’t worn a dress in years. At least it didn’t pinch and cling like the ones Mother used to try and make her wear.

It was layered and cut on the bottom half to allow for easy movement, but annoyingly loose around her hips. She had had to bunch up the sash and tie it twice. At least the wide, billowy sleeves would be good for concealing her hands. She could also hide things inside them pretty easily with a bit of work. The embroidery of clouds and stylized wind currents were kind of nice too.

She still felt uncomfortable though. It felt strange to wear something that probably cost more than a month of a laborer’s wages. Well, maybe whatever this was made of was the Immortal equivalent of sack cloth? She glanced down at the mirror in her hands. There weren’t any cosmetics provided thankfully, so apparently they didn’t expect her to dress up that much.

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There had been a few hairpins though, made of some kind of painted bone. She thought they went well with her bright blue eyes. That was her best feature in her own opinion. No one else in her hometown had eyes that shade. Not that her effort at pinning up her hair in some resemblance of order had prevented the strands from falling back into her eyes. Maybe she could learn some kind of magic to manage that, she thought idly.