Threads 417-Taming Winter 6

“Bao Qian!” the voice of flesh called, heard despite all impediments. “Release your defense, but only for a five count!”

The reply took a moment. Ling Qi could feel his consternation, and she also felt the moment he realized her plan.

It was dizzying, the rush of it. Heat and life and feeling flooded out, torn away by the hungry wind. Joyous silence, settling quiet, full and heavy and…

The fist of gold clenched then, and not a single wisp more escaped, only the fraying cold of Not-Her.

The wind cried, grinding away at the stone. The crumbling was inevitable! Such was the nature of life. But now, it wasn’t.

She was so hungry, wasn’t she? The emptiness yawned. Her and Not-Her feeding, drinking deep of snows that could not hold what they wanted. Silence could not draw sustenance from silence.

Quiet. Quiet. Wherefore do you hide?

Sleep. Sleep. Under crooning stars. Dreams of warmth. Dreams of white.

Ling Qi spread her arms wide, sleeves billowing like banners in the whirling wind, and answered.

Warm. Warm.

Why? Why? Why?

Silence. Silence. Rolling on forever.

Gone. Gone. The fire never comes again.

Distress. A spasm within the infinite white. A concept introduced, just a little turning of what was already there. Loss. To consume something completely was to lose it. To devour without limit could only end in the throes of starvation.

She signaled Bao Qian, and for a precious moment, the heat came again. It was savory, the flame, the ambition, the want. And then, again, it was gone.

The snowstorm shook violently. The winds hurled themselves at walls of stone and qi, clawing, and received nothing for it.

Frustration, roiling into intent. In this moment, there was a danger rising.

Ling Qi had awoken the spirit from crushing, passive hunger and inflamed in its icy heart a desire to truly feed. But she had also planted other seeds. She raised her voice, and Her and Not-Her sang together.

Silence. Silence. Laying over a misty hill.

Rattle. Rattle. Shutters tight. Work done well.

Quiet moans the wind through streets swept white with snow.

Warm burns the fires, smoke rising bright.

Softly. Softly. Lay it all to rest.

Year passes. Year passes. Always and forever.

Tithe the white. Tithe the white. Fires burning bright.

Given freely, given first, to whiteout wraith of frozen night.

Once more, the golden fist grudgingly creaked open, and this time, the rush of heat blew away the expanse of white. Ling Qi was left standing under the clear sky and glittering stars, the hanging crescent of the moon blazing silver in the sky.

She flexed her fingers, watching frost flake off. Droplets of ice and water filled the cracks in her skin, restoring flesh in its wake as she drew her qi back in.

Her shoulders slumped. She was really spent, wasn’t she? Her dantian felt gutted and empty, only just enough qi left to keep the embers of flame properly suppressed. That had been closer than she liked.

But it was worth it. As she had planted Want deep in the core of the spirit, she, too, had come away with something new. A song, a refinement of her melody. A Frozen Night’s Refrain. It was the song of billowing, biting white that wiped away the world.

The pillar under her feet jerked and began descending down, crumbling at a steady pace that soon brought her back to the earth.

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Bao Qian stood, looking up at her with a raised eyebrow. “Did you do what I think you just did?”

“That depends on what you thought I did.” Ling Qi slumped back to her chair. Hanyi yelped and dashed to insert herself under Ling Qi’s arm, helping her cross the camp. “I shall have to organize a proper winter festival for Snowblossom now though. I’m glad I still have some time to do so.”

“You make it look so easy, forming a fresh contract and bending a spirit into something you can properly contract with.”