Threads 320-Parting 6

“Ah. You’ve learned how to refine arts by now.”

“It’s been very recent,” Ling Qi acknowledged. “Elder, if I may I ask, what were the beasts bound in your trial? The tortoise? The rotting dragon?”

Those two were the two spirits who could be said to be Zhengui’s parents, one dead and eternally regenerating, the other chained and bound, powering the Sect’s formations.

Elder Ying pursed her lips. “Old sins. You aren’t the first to make friends with foreigners, disciple, even though you might be the first to try to make it more. You know a certain elder of the old Argent Peak Sect was a traveler of the world.”

That would be Elder Lang Keung, the sword saint and Xuan Shi’s favorite author. He had died in Ogodei’s invasion, holding back the invaders so that the disciples of the sect could evacuate. Even now, his grave on the sect grounds was guarded by the now-broken and bitter sword that he had wielded in his life.

“Then why…?”

“Wars are ugly. We make sacrifices and debase ourselves to win them. In the tales, the hero’s virtue wins, but it is never so clean.” Elder Ying gazed up at the sky. “Well, I have my oaths. You’ll learn something of our sacrifices, running about in the liminal with your spirit beast.”

Ling Qi wasn’t fully happy with that answer, but she could feel the crushing pressure with which the word “oaths” was spoken. It was not some idle promise she spoke of, but a soul deep principle carved right into the base of the elder’s cultivation.

“Thank you, Elder Ying. I will find my own answers.”

“You will. Does your conviction come from the duchess? What she has accomplished is not achievable with normal methods, I think.”

“Is there any such thing as a normal method for reaching sovereignty? But no, I don’t think I want the same as the duchess. I think you can grow without becoming unmoored and without returning to isolation. The weak are not a burden to be borne, and lack of power is not a deficiency that makes people lesser.”

“You truly are greedy,” Elder Ying said, amused. “Though perhaps not in the way you think. Let me ask you, young lady, what is the purpose of defense? Of protection?”

“Protection aims to preserve choice, whether your own or that of those you are protecting,” Ling Qi said thoughtfully.

“Not an answer I have heard before,” Elder Ying admitted. “You have come to some interesting insights, dancing in the shallows of the dream.”

“I know there are a hundred ways one could pick at it, but it’s the best answer I can do for now.”

“What do you do when those beneath you choose to hurt themselves?”

“It depends on whether they are hurting themselves or whether I am only perceiving it that way.”

“You’ve put some thought into your answer at least. A protector can crush those they protect. That must be confronted, if you wish to keep your compassion.”

Ling Qi considered her. “You are not without that.”

“I am not. I am so, so fond of you children, you disciples. It is a delight to see you grow. It is the worst pain to see you die. I care for the children and disciples, more deeply than my own life. Do you understand?”

Ling Qi thought she did. The elder was alone. She cared, and she cared deeply. But it was a distant care because she cared for all of her disciples. Ling Qi looked at her elder and saw a protector and a teacher, and that was the all of her. There was nothing outside of that. Ling Qi wondered if she was even capable of having a “favorite” disciple, let alone of being anything closer than a distant and kindly mentor.

She suspected that Elder Ying could not. Her Way would not allow it.

Ling Qi knew that she had to sacrifice to reach the peak. She thought she had accepted that. But until this moment, she wasn’t sure she really had. No matter how clever or lucky she was, she would have to sacrifice parts of herself upon the altar of her Way. There was no method which did not take sacrifice in one form or another.

After all, their world was built on it. The Nameless Mother and Father were nameless for that reason.

“Holding on to everything and refusing any sacrifice can only end in failure or broken Ways,” Elder Ying said. “But in the end, you choose what you will lose and what you will gain. The price of power can only be determined by you. Now, I do believe the lesson is wrapping up. I am glad that you chose to come here. Do not think I am not.”

“I understand. Elder Ying, I am thankful for your advice and your service to the Sect. I will be leaving my family in your care for a little longer.”

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

“And I will shelter them, like all the other lives in the town until you may do so yourself. Good fortune, disciple. I truly hope you can solve your conundrums.”

Ling Qi bowed her head, and the image of the elder beside her disappeared, leaving only the lecturing woman in the center of the room, wrapping up the class with far less cutting questions for the new disciples to consider.

Ling Qi rose to her feet with the rest, bowed her head in respect, and took her leave.

***

Ling Qi returned to the plaza below to find Hanyi. She’d left her junior sister outside, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to sit calmly through the length of such a lesson. She had given her strict instructions to remain in the plaza and to not pester anyone too much. Hanyi had plenty of material to study for her next concert, which Ling Qi had hoped would keep her somewhat occupied.

What she found was unexpected. There was no trouble at all. Hanyi sat on a bench beneath a peach tree, swinging her bare feet happily back and forth.

There was an older woman beside her, reading one of her lesson scrolls aloud. Ling Qi saw the red and blue dress and the silver hair.

“And that is what this passage means, dear. It’s a bit flowery, but it seems this mountain here appreciates a poetic flourish in his intermediaries,” Xin said.

“Ugh, what a pain. I guess I can work the song into a formal meter, but those are boring,” Hanyi complained.