Threads 324-Parting 10

“There are methods for better dispersing greater powers. But the method I think you might find useful as a cornerstone for priestly rites in grounding spiritual power and pressure is one that is used for leading lower realms and even mortals,” Xin said thoughtfully.

“Spirit and world are one in understanding,” Ling Qi recited from the meditative koan of the art int question. “The spirit is merely an element of the world you walk in and may allow its intent to be bled back whence it comes.”

Melodies of the Spirit Seekers was not a flashy art and not one she used in battle. Its lessons were more subtle than that, and they mostly served to inform her thoughts and approaches to spirit negotiation.

The portion she was cultivating right now was in fact its primary active technique, Bastion’s Melody, a qi field that protected herself and her allies from the unintentional harm high realms could cause merely by their presence and attention. Even then, as she had told Xin, she had been mostly contemplating its lessons as a thought exercise, rather than for the technique itself, which would likely only become useful when it came time to begin focusing on the many spirits in their shared fief at Snowblossom.

“Yes,” Xin agreed. “I do know a few tricks for improving the qi efficiency of techniques like this. That may allow you to let the protection linger in place, most especially when in a prepared area.”

“Like a shrine or a temple.”

“Exactly that. Now, to achieve the best effect, you may have to teach any followers a lower ranked version of the art, but that will be your business.”

“And you can also do it on your own time,” Elder Jiao interjected. “I’ve indulged both you and Xin and given you advice on your challenges. Be grateful. I did not even owe you that much.”

“I understand, elder. I am thankful. Our paths have some similarities, but I’m even more sure after our talk that they are not the same.”

“Of course they aren’t. By the gods did my foolish sentimentality come back to be a bother.”

“I don’t think sentimentality is an error. Being without sentiment can only lead to ugliness.”

“Childish.” The elder sighed. “I do not understand why you are so happy to be inflicted with this babble, Xin.”

“I’ve always been overly curious,” Xin said loftily.

“May I ask one more question?”

Jiao gave her an unimpressed look, but didn’t say no.

“I know the ministry represents some interest, but is the throne actually likely to interfere?”

Xin’s fond smile dimmed. Elder Jiao scowled.

“No,” Elder Jiao bit out. “Unless you somehow offer an immense offense, the eyes of the throne won’t approach this place. The ministry might use it as a threat to push you in the directions they want, but Xiang will not care unless you make her care.”

Ling Qi was feeling highly uncomfortable when she realized that he had just referred to the empress so casually by first name.

“What is she like?” Ling Qi wondered, morbidly curious. Elder Jiao had actually sounded upset.

He gave her a long look. “She came to the same conclusion I did. The difference is that she did not stop. Like you, she felt her father and I had eyes too big for our stomachs.”

“What conclusion?”

“Puzzle it out if you care so much,” Elder Jiao said flippantly. “Xin, don’t just tell her.”

“I’ve given away enough secrets today. I wouldn’t want to atrophy her skills by handing over everything.” Xin reached over to pat her hand. “If you’d like, we can retire now and talk qi theory. I’m afraid my husband’s tolerance for company is at its limit.”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“Do not talk about me like some invalid.”

“Thank you again, elder.”

“Feh, just try not to fail too much. Maybe the world will scrape some small benefit from your flailing then,” Elder Jiao said grumply. Before the words were even finished, his form lost shape, collapsing into mist and shadow that swiftly dispersed in the air.

She blinked. That was… almost encouraging? Maybe. From a certain point of view.

“Mm, not much improvement, but the slide is arrested for the moment,” Xin assessed. “Do take that as a lesson, dear. No matter how well you plan or what plots you hatch, you will never get everything you wanted.”

“I understand.”

“You won’t,” Xin corrected kindly. “Not for a while yet. Oh, I wonder, did you keep that map I left you? The one I gave to you while you were still in the Outer Sect?”

Ling Qi recalled the puzzle box challenge she’d solved that had unfolded into an interactive map of the sect grounds. She hadn’t thought of it in a long time since she hardly had a reason to amble around and poke for challenges anymore. “Yes, I still have it.”

“Mm, bring it along when next you seek my greater self’s attention. Something useful might happen. Now, why don’t we find ourselves an empty room, and I’ll show you a few pointers on your qi constructs.”

“You’ve already done more than enough, but I won’t refuse,” Ling Qi said, rising from her seat.