Threads 469-Revelry 3

“I am surprised you take so well to being in the light.”

Shu Yue’s head tilted, their ear nearly touching their shoulder as they looked down at her. It earned barely a glance as they wandered down a branch boulevard lined with impromptu stalls, hawking festival goods of all kinds. Her eyes wandered across the crowd. They were not unnoticed. Although she did see passersby giving her mentor enough of a berth that they were not brushed and jostled like she was, it was much less than her expectations.

“Here, I am known,” Shu Yue said simply. There was a wistful wonder in their voice, as they stretched out a long arm and dropped a few glittering stones on a stall counter, plucking a basket full of steaming jam-filled buns.

Ling Qi took one when Shu Yue offered it, inhaling the scent of spice, the fruit jam, and the dough, along with the streamers of light airy qi infused into it. It was no pill or elixir, but potent nonetheless.

Shu Yue’s jaw stretched strangely as they tossed a bun into their mouth. They did not chew.

“Do you actually taste what you eat?” Ling Qi asked.

“I bet they do.” Sixiang squinted down at their own bun before taking a cautious nibble. “Just they use different mechanics, eh?”

“Mortal foods have little flavor, but this, I enjoy well enough. It is as the muse says,” Shu Yue answered.

Ling Qi took a bite of her own bun. Her eyes widened as the sweet jam released a burst of sweet qi over her tongue. Combined with the airy qi in the dough, it left her with a pleasant buzz on her tongue as she savored chewing it. She hadn’t felt her mouth water so since the first days of the sect, with its unlimited access to a bounty she couldn’t have dreamed of in Tonghou.

When did she decide she couldn’t be bothered with eating anymore? She couldn’t even remember.

“Want is never static. When we are fulfilled, we only turn to yearning for what else we do not have. Old wants fade into the background,” Shu Yue said. “In this, there is the bottomless hunger of those who are naught, but darkness is not wrong.”

“Contentment can be fleeting, but to have so little of it… No, those things are incomplete existences. Without the ability to hold anything…”

“A vessel which leaks away all its contents is a useless one. Any potter would be ashamed to sculpt such a piece,” Shu Yue finished.

Ling Qi ducked her head and took another bite, allowing the moment to pass in silence. “I did not mean to insult.”

“I took none. The nameless wraith is not Shu Yue, or rather, not all of them. Shu Yue lives here, the mind atop the seething thing beneath.” They tapped their chin. “But this is not unique, save in its artificiality. You understand?”

Humans were not only their consciousness. Instinct, drive, Want, it all bubbled up from beneath the thoughts and feelings at the fore. They were the dark soil and roots from which the lotus bloomed.

“Hah, yeah. That’s the same stuff we muses are made of. It’s no wonder most of us flit around for a while and then explode like a firework when whatever got enough bits together to make a go at being a person goes away. Moons, I gotta hand it to ya, going ‘maskless’ is a heck of a lot easier!”

Ling Qi shot her friend an unamused look.

“A face has its benefits,” Shu Yue rasped. “You cling to yours tightly, muse.”

“I do, yeah.” Sixiang glanced toward Ling Qi with a winning smile.

She brushed the crumbs of dough off of her fingers as they entered another square where the paths to other branches converged. This one was far less raucous than the last she’d seen. Rather than a strange device dispensing potent alcohol, there was a great bonfire in the center, burning with some kind of smokeless flame that cycled between the shades of visible color. There were only a thin few motes of fire qi in the whole display, most of it arising from earth qi. How strange. It did appear to be burning some sort of rock for fuel though, so that made sense.

People were making merry around it, as they would any other bonfire. Men and women in fine robes clapped and danced just the same as rustic mortals would at a mundane festival.

“I suspect we aren’t here to dance,” Ling Qi surmised.

“I would be entertained, but known or not, I would only cast a pall,” Shu Yue said amusedly. “You are correct. I will leave you to enjoy the material when the lesson is done. Come. Our venue is this way.”

Ling Qi followed them curiously as they skirted the edge of the crowd, parting them with little effort, until she saw ahead a spot of darkness in the bright festival lights. It was a a concert hall, dark and empty inside, and even she could not feel so much as an echo of song from within it.

“I am surprised a building could remain empty for so long here in the cloud district. What was it?”

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“The concert hall of one of the apprentices of Grandmaster Jiang,” Shu Yue answered as they stepped from the street onto the tiled path which led to the shadowed doors. The sounds of the street, so bright and loud a moment ago, became muted only a few steps down that path.

Ling Qi regarded it curiously. Despite the dust, the cobwebs clinging to the eaves and faded, and the peeling walls, she did not believe this place was abandoned.

“What kinda sticky end did he come to?” Sixiang asked.