[RSM] Chapter 132. Rites (Patreon)

One year later, Imperial Year 34012

"How are you feeling? Happy?" Tundra smiled, as his friend got up from the center of a rather ruined platform, now in the sixth realm. In his mind, he never doubted Jon's likelihood of success. Jon was always smart, even if Severian was a little more bold and 

Jon looked absolutely calm when he waved off the dust and debris on his robes. "Not really, I have yet to feel the benefits of the sixth realm, such as my refined senses. I hope my tea tastes better." 

"Are you sure you want to analyze every mote of flavor in your tea?" Tundra asked with a grin, but he knew Jon said it in jest. 

His friend smiled, a few years seemed to have faded from his face. His hair now looked like a mix of black and white, instead of mostly grey. The wrinkles turned slimmer, thinner. His friend could have chosen a youthful appearance. "Only just as much as you analyze and overanalyze every failed pill." 

Tundra ignored that, and teased him on his appearance instead. Each breakthrough is a moment for one to reassess their forms. "I see you have chosen to retain your older form."

"Just like you, our hearts are old." Jon tapped him on the shoulder, and they walked together. "It is not for us to look like young upstarts, even if our absolute ages are still young. Besides, appearance matters, even if everyone tells us it does not."

"Wise words, friend." Tundra said. "Severian better watch out."

"Eh, Severian knew I'm coming for a long time now. Jashen should be worried about being the last one behind." 

"Should not be that long." Tundra nodded. Severian was already in the 5th step of the sixth realm. Their recent meteoric rise in power invited many exploratory visits from other sects, eager to make friends. Some of the nearby seventh and eighth realm sects also began making some rather interesting moves to secure their own territories, fearful of potential expansion. "Come, let's go to the banquet."

"Let us dispense with that nonsense." Jon tried to avoid it.

 "You're an elder of tradition, Jon. Come, you don't have to stay long. And don't worry, I have special tea ordered for everyone."

"Now you're just making a joke out of me. Everyone will now remember me as that elder that enjoys weird teas."

"As you get famous, Jon, it is helpful to have a reputation. You can easily tell who wants your favor when they give you things you say you like." Tundra continued. Though the sect was a few mountains away, a distance both could easily clear with just a spiritual energy enhanced walk, the two still decided to just walk normally. "Imagine the name they will give you, the Culteavator! Or the Drunken Tea Master."

Jon couldn't help but cough, and almost choked. Or at least, he pretended to. "That is a terrible one. But not as bad as yours."

Tundra's reputation as an alchemist was less combative this time around, but no less irritating. They called him the Cunning Chemist, apparently for his escape from the Kaorlian massacre. His subsequent absorption of multiple alchemists into his sect as guest elders was seen by observers as sly, even if the sects and alchemists themselves didn't see it that way. 

Most sect masters maintained a reputation and have many titles. The cultivation world's events were spun by mortals and lesser cultivators into great tales of bravery, heroism, cunning and deceit. Stories told then inspire the next generation of cultivators. Tundra used to think these stories were such trivial, mortal things, but lately, he realized that they had to be viewed from the lens of mortals who lived short lives. 

Even if in their circles, it seemed like everyone was a powerful cultivator, the majority of the world was mortals. 

It sometimes bothered him how thoroughly unfair their entire society was. The lives of so many mortal lives exist seemingly at the service of so few cultivators. 

It was something the Zuja exploited in the first life, and they would certainly exploit it again. There is always dissatisfaction. When there is so much who suffers below, what is it if not a situation ripe for exploitation. It is a powder keg, and warehouse filled with oils and fuel, waiting for the right madman to come along.

"You're thinking something uncomfortable."

"It is always the unsolved, uncomfortable problems that linger the longest." Tundra shook his head. "If they were simple, I wouldn't even think about them."

"True." Jon said. "But think of happier things. More, solvable things. Like your family. Like us."

"I would rather not reduce you to a problem to solve, and I would also rather not solve your problems for you." Tundra answered. It didn't work in his first life, and with his sects and disciples, he knew the best way was for them to arrive at the conclusion themselves. 

He also knew, that despite Jon's reservations about the banquet, his friend would most certainly enjoy drinking tea with friends and sharing knowledge about his breakthrough.   

***

"Ah, Lord Fox. To what do I owe the honor of a visit? No. Wait. Let me start with a question of my own as the host. What have you been up to?" Tia Truehaven asked as Tundra walked into her workshop. There was a faint, rather intense scent in the room, as she worked on some rather unusual olfactory pills. 

"I'll answer that if you get me what I want." Tundra said, as he sat down. "I want tomes and books on bloodline training methods. The secret ones. What do you have?" 

"Your child has barely finished a full cycle of seasons. There is nothing suitable for him at this age and time. Nothing that is safe." The woman stopped her work, and stood. Her alchemical robes were stained brown from long term exposure to some rather pungent animal organs. 

"Gathering materials when he turns ten is too late." Tundra countered, as he briefly shut off his sense of smell. "Not everything reaches the market when I need it."

"Well, market prices are cheap now." Tia agreed. "Makes sense to hoard early. But no, I do not think I have more secret techniques to trade." 

Tundra squinted. "There are better ways to tell a lie, and there are few things less plausible than the Ancient Titans not having more secret techniques."

"You misunderstood my words, Lord Fox. I merely said what I meant, that I have nothing to trade, not that the Ancient Titans have nothing to trade. I can relay your message, but I have no knowledge of what you want, and so, I cannot even begin to point you in the right direction. You should speak to my uncle, who lately seems particularly interested in your affairs."

"Really? Do enlighten me on the cause of Nord Truehaven's interest." 

"My uncle is a man who doesn't speak much." 

"Complicated way of saying you don't know." Tundra found the woman frustrating. Every time she left, he hoped she would not return. But it seems she did. Her absences were often not long, no more than a few months.

"Not as complicated as you." It was likely she found him exceptionally frustrating as well. "But I mean it. It is rather tiring serving as a glorified middleman between the two of you. Meet my uncle. I had enough."

"As you should. Someone of your talents should be focused on your own cultivation. It is truly surprising that the Ancient Titans find it fitting to waste a talent on a middle sect's sect master." Tundra said, eager for her to leave the sect. It was hard enough trying to operate freely with so many spies in his own sect. Grayne Fallows, Zuri Blackpetals, and some of his new alchemists were not entirely loyal, but he expected that. He had seen enough of Tia's work over the past few years to know she is talented. Not as good as Zuri Blackpetals, but good enough that the Crimson Lotus Spire's master would have to show her true skills. 

But alas, she saw through it. "My uncle said you would try to send me away, so save those praises. I'm not leaving. My uncle will be in the Flaming Phoenix Auction in a fortnight, you can meet him there."

He frowned, but he recalled the Emperor's mission. He still needs to convince both Ember Talons and Zomo Sapphens to join his secret assault, and a visit to the Flaming Phoenix is a good way to start laying the groundwork for a meeting with the Great Phoenix Queen.

If this was a set up, it was an awfully convenient one. With his wealth now, and the relatively depressed prices for flying ships thanks to the overall market downturn, it was quite a good time to get another flying ship for his sect. It would be helpful for Severian or his other elders to move around.

"Then you will come with me." Tundra said. "Surely you want to visit your uncle again."

"You overestimate my rapport with my uncle. I would certainly rather not see him again." The relatively young lady of the Truehaven family countered. "Just reading his letters and receiving his secured spiritual messages is annoying enough."

"But you will come regardless." Tundra declared, deciding that it was sometimes worth it to use his authority as a sect master. "As a guest elder, you will do as you are told. A visit to Forgestone Peaks is not a difficult task."

Tia Truehaven frowned, and almost wanted to object. But after a moment, she sighed. "Very well, this one will obey the Sect Master's instruction." 

"Good." 

***

"Do you want to come?" Tundra asked but in his heart, it was not quite appropriate for a young child to travel. There were superstitions about allowing such young souls to be exposed to the outside. 

Elly cradled the now one year old Rowan in her arms. The boy was growing well, but a few months back, Elly already started taking other herbs meant for restoring her fertility and health, and at night, when the two of them were alone and Rowan was asleep, she'd say things that hinted at her intention. 

She didn't intend to stop. 

His wife shook her head. "No. But don't stay long. Do what you need to do and come home."

Tundra nodded, as he watched Rowan suckle. The young child could have stopped breastfeeding, but they wanted to give him so many different types of nutrients that the only plausible way to do so was through breastfeeding. 

The little boy sucked, and then drifted to sleep. 

A child of that age is still just that. A baby. He looked at the young child and felt a mixture of adoration and envy. Such is life to be full of innocence and bliss. 

Elly looked relieved, as she carried the baby to a cot and placed him there. "Finally asleep. I'm not going, not leaving any of the things I need, and it is not good practice to put a young child through changes in the environment."

A maid quickly came in to help Elly clean up and adjust her clothes.

The more taxing parts of caring for a child such as cleaning and chores are  distributed amongst the maids, and Tundra could feel the presence of at least five of them in the background, two of them sleeping. All of them were vetted, and there was one of Elly's uncles nearby, a 3rd realm cultivator, standing guard. In powerful cultivator families, it was not uncommon for assassinations and murders of young children, especially when multiple wives were competing to be successors. 

Despite the risks, it was a life of great privilege. Elly could devote herself to the more enjoyable parts of motherhood, while these young maids shouldered the chores. 

His earlier thoughts circled in his mind. These young maids would want children some day, and many of them would once they retire from work. Many maids worked for the Fox family, as it is one of the highest paying jobs in town. Many would do it for five to ten years, and they would earn enough to buy a plot of land, build a small home, and start a farm. 

Yet what about the thousands outside? 

He felt Elly's hand on his. "You seem bothered."

Tundra stopped and nodded. "I apologize. How has he been?'

"It has been difficult to put Rowan to sleep, but other than that, he seems well. Have you checked on him?"

Tundra shook his head. "It is not good to expose a child so young to frequent intrusive spiritual checkups. It meddles with their soul's development."

"It amazes me, you know." Elly said softly, as the maid placed a spiritual artifact over the one-year old's cot. It was a sound suppression artifact that prevented outside noises from entering, but not the other way. 

Since its invention seven hundred years ago by the Sun-Moon Great Observatory, it has been a staple in every young family's home. 

"That all of us were so weak and vulnerable once." Elly said. "That our souls were just like the fires of a small candle, easily snuffed out. Even the presence of someone just a bit stronger could crush our souls forever, and leave us with a scar that our still mere mortal souls could never surpass. You were like that. Even the great titans, the tenth realms master were all once just mortals."

It was a fundamental lesson in every cultivator's life, that all of them came from humble origins. That for the humanoid descendants, they were all mortals at birth, no matter how powerful their fathers and mothers were. 

That such potential existed in them at all. "Who would have thought, in the eyes of the first cultivators, that such weak and helpless creatures could be those who challenged the heavens?" Elly said. 

He merely smiled. 

"I didn't. Or maybe I did, but I forgot. It is only when I held a child once more, my own child, that it reawakened that realization that some of us could be the next great masters. Maybe even our enemies are still just a child somewhere out there, the wrong person, at the wrong place, at the wrong time. That they were also an alignment of improbable possibilities." 

"That would be awfully convenient if true." Tundra smiled.

"Maybe. But all branches of the great tree lead to a trunk, and those trunks lead to the roots. Even the great trees were seeds once. How do you know which great tree  in the future is nothing but a seed now?" Elly theorized, perhaps being with a baby gave her lots to think about. "Surely you can think of some. Your dreams, you remember your foes, your enemies, the great wars and battles. All things flow from one another."

"The flow is sensitive, and we must be careful. When diverting a river, it may cause a flood somewhere that was not intended." Tundra said. "My hope is to start at home. The ripples I make here should cascade through time. As the ancient saying goes, we start by cultivating ourselves. Once we cultivate our own affairs, then we regulate our family, and once we regulate our families, we bring order to the state, and only then when there is order in the state, there will be peace under heaven. It is this profound truth that I somehow neglected in my first life. I cultivated myself, and I tried to bring my version of order to the state, but I left a key step untouched."

Elly chuckled, and yet Tundra found her beautiful. "That is such a traditionalist view of the world. But I like it, and I think it is a shame that the other me in your first life did not get to have this part of you."

She walked closer, and adjusted his robes. 

"Go, husband. Reach into the river and stir the fishes."

[ A / N : I need to edit book 3. Gotta put it all together and see where I can pad up and clean up the prose. Thanks for reading. ]