Abyssal Road Trip - 653 - Shifting Ground (Patreon)

Amdirlain’s PoV - Fey Fruit Orchard - Constructed Space

After she finished discussing options with those uninterested in cultivation. She sent them with scrolls to Jiayi so they could be established in a town. Once the last stepped through the gate, Amdirlain turned her attention to the rest. The breeze swirling through the orchard carried the sweet scent of fruit and thickened the air with a rich floral aroma.

Most of the beast-kin variants had gathered in similar groups, but the teenage tiger who had raised questions a few times stood apart from the other tigers.

Though she had offered to reset people’s ages before, some in this group hadn’t accepted.

“Cultivation is easier for young people.” Amdirlain glanced between the older people. “Once you get into your mid to late twenties, you’ll find your meridians hardening, and it becomes increasingly more challenging to cultivate unless you’ve already passed certain points. While you don’t have to accept the offer, it’s simply to give you more time. Many of you might find you’re unable to progress past a rank or two even if you’re young.”

“Isn’t there a way you can help us avoid that, esteemed one?”

“Only by resetting your body’s age. Last chance to revert to a teenager.”

A rabbit lady beside him with matching grey dropped her gaze. “It would feel strange to be the same age as my grandchildren.”

“Did you hold out for your family rather than yourselves?”

“Yes,” they both nodded.

“Alright, those adults who seek a cultivation option for their youngest rather than themselves, come forward. What we’ll do is establish you in a village or town where tutors can come each day to help the young progress until they reach an age to try out for a sect,” Amdirlain looked between the groups with multiple generations represented. “I’ll help you get established and cover the ongoing cultivation tuition, but the rest will be up to your own choices to manage.”

Their eager nods and the shrill notes easing from their throats drew a smile from Amdirlain.

A message exchange with Mùchén quickly produced a place for them, and Amdirlain opened a gate for them to join a village under the Silver Wall Sect’s protection.

“What sect are you from?” the tiger boy asked. “Can we try for membership in it?”

“Golden Maze Sect. We’re so new and small that we don’t have a membership process yet. Don’t you want a name?”

“Why? No one cares who I am,” he declared.

“That might have been true in your past, but I aim to help you change that,” Amdirlain said.

“I was just called trash,” a catgirl nearby whispered. She stopped with her tail clasped in her hands, the residual energy of its restoration still present. “We got whipped for speaking to the others.”

“If it feels too daunting, I can offer a pot full of names to draw from, but you’re free to choose any name.”

A hip-high cauldron appeared before the dais, and thousands of paper slips poured into it, each with a unique name.

“Each slip of paper has a male and female name on it. If you are unsure what you want to be called, you can pick a name from it.” Amdirlain waved to it. “Take from the surface or dig deep.”

“I can’t read,” the tiger boy said, and the others murmured their agreement.

“I’ll be helping you learn.” Amdirlain sat down cross-legged. “Everyone, please get comfortable.”

Though those present murmured in surprise, they sat down around the dais. When everyone sat or stretched out, motes drifted from her, instilling a reservoir of words and symbols against their souls in tune with their current mortal flesh. The details washed through them like a gentle breeze, leaving them with the knowledge of reading and writing as if they’d always possessed the proficiency.

As the information settled, the boy had already bounced to his feet and trotted to the cauldron. From among the slips, he shook one free. “Haobai.”

“Do you like the sound of it?”

He repeated the name, as if he was rolling the sound of it on his tongue. Then gave a sharp nod.

Amdirlain rose and smoothly bowed to him. “Welcome, Haobai. That name suits you.”

“Why are you helping us?” Haobai clutched the slip to his chest.

“I was a slave in past lives and, even before remembering those lives, I wanted to rescue others from captivity,” Amdirlain said. “The question I ask is why shouldn’t I help you since I’m in a position to do so. If you can’t decide on a name for yourselves, please pick one. You can draw again if it doesn’t suit.”

A rabbit girl with black hair and gold-tipped ears came forward. She was barely taller than the cauldron, and her left ear twitched adorably as she reached in. The slip she drew caused her eyes to widen as she stared in disbelief before she let out a high-pitched giggle. “Měng? Doesn’t that mean ferocious or violent?”

“True.”

She flapped her ears about energetically and picked again. “That’s not me at all.”

“The name could be something you aim for,” Amdirlain offered. “You could become a ferocious defender of others.”

She giggled and looked at the new slip. “Minmin.”

“Quick and clear,” Amdirlain said, and the girl nodded eagerly and then returned the first slip to the pot.

“I’m Minmin.”

Amdirlain smiled and gestured behind her. A group of signs appeared at the back of the dais, each listing a sect’s name and its tenets. “Now that you can read. Here are a list of sects I’ve been told of and their tenets. Pick one whose tenets appeal to you, and then take a token from the pot at the base of the sign so I know your choice. Once you’ve achieved your first breakthrough, I’ll send you somewhere you’ll receive training to prepare to earn entry.”

Various people near the front rose; some bypassed the cauldron to collect a sect token and returned to their spots. As they sat, a wave of people moving rippled up the slope of the bowl. 

I guess they already have names they’re happy with.

Haobai loitered near her, only speaking up after the lines began to dwindle. 

“How are you sure we can learn cultivation?” Haobai asked.

“I can help anyone achieve a breakthrough, but I want to ensure you understand the process before I send you to other trainers.”

His lips went white, and he clamped down on a question.

“You didn’t hesitate to ask your other questions,” Amdirlain said.

“I’ve heard cultivation is hard to achieve. How are you sure we can?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” Amdirlain said, winking conspiratorially. “You still have more questions to ask. I could hear the questions churning in your mind, even when you were hiding behind the trees.”

Haobai whispered. “Why did you offer cultivation last?”

“There is a concept called the fear of missing out. The better the option I offered, the more people will take it, afraid the next one might be the last,” Amdirlain said. “They’ll receive training, and we’ll find them employment. Yet they could have had more if they hadn’t let impatience and fear rule them. Cultivation takes practice, and pushing on when things seem hopeless.”

And in that, I’m a terrible example for direct cultivation, yet I’ve had many lifetimes where things were hopeless, and I pushed on.

The lines moved forward, some picking names, but all collecting tokens from the displayed sects.

With Haobai making no move toward the signs, Amdirlain tilted her head. “Go on.”

“There isn’t a sign for your sect.”

“My brother is still deciding on the tenets. We’re very new,” Amdirlain said.

“I want to follow you.”

“Why?” Amdirlain regarded him stoically.

Haobai clasped his hands together. “You saved me from dying in the arena.”

“I know, but that doesn’t justify you wanting to follow me.”

“I just do,” Haobai said. “Please.”

“I don’t think that is wise, as we don’t even have land. We’re guesting with a friend from another sect. Do you want to be homeless?”

“I used to live in a tent until they burned the camp and killed all the adults.”

Amdirlain went still, the last echo of the tidal wave that drowned her mother’s song taunting her. “Loss sets its claws deep.”

“I want to learn from you,” Haobai protested.

I could have Ling Xi teach him to see how well she’s learnt, yet that’s unfair to her.

By the time everyone else had collected a token, neither Haobai nor Minmin had moved.

“That’s not something I can agree to,” Amdirlain said.

“Will you tell me why?” Haobai asked.

“Pick a sect, Haobai. I’ve tried to teach some people and instead ended up cultivating for a decade, so I can’t be sure I’ll be around to see you taught properly. Don’t obstruct your journey.”

Minmin looked between them and flicked her ears, then skipped across to the sect signs and took a token for Quan Yin’s Waters. She looked back, a little wrinkle across her forehead. “I want to heal people.”

“A good reason to learn to cultivate.”

Haobai opened his mouth to protest again, but Amdirlain raised an eyebrow, and he cut himself off.

In the silence, she pointed to the grass beyond the dais and projected her voice. “I want everyone sitting. You’re to keep your breathing slow and steady, and try to feel each breath settling deeper into your stomach.”

“Yes, Master,” Haobai said.

“My name is Amdirlain. I’m no one’s master.” Amdirlain pointed to the sect signs again. “It’s my choice whether I train someone, so you need to pick one or find your own way. Which do you think is the smarter choice?” 

“Yes, Lady Amdirlain,” Minmin murmured, moving to sit down near another rabbit who shifted to include Minmin in the middle of their group.

His mouth in a flat line, Haobai looked between the signs before he claimed a Silver Wall Sect token and returned to his spot. Though tempted to find out why, Amdirlain kept out of the boy’s mind.

“Might I know why you selected that sect, Haobai?”

“My fur is black and white, so I figured it was a good omen.”

Amdirlain nodded and looked out over the milling crowd. 

“If you don’t wish to select a token yet, please sit. Everyone else, once you have a token, please find a spot promptly. We’ll take some more shortcuts to help you feel the qi, but this will take time. The first step in cultivation is to gather qi and circulate it within your dantian. I’ll help you experience what that feels like.”

After everyone who stayed on their feet had picked a token and settled, she walked them through an exercise to establish a slow breathing pattern. Once the crowd was breathing evenly, she sent out motes to aid them; each simply dragged the corruption around in their dantian. The effect created a small vacuum as it moved the corruption about and let local qi flow into their dantian. Bright notes of recognition and excitement thrummed from some people. Caught by surprise, most slipped up with their breathing, and the mote’s effect stopped. Those who kept going found the sensation persisted. When those who had slipped got their breathing regular again, the mote resumed moving the corruption.

As different people struggled to do more, she repeated suggestions from cultivation manuals on feeling and moving energy that seemed to match each person’s mindset.

They really need proper cultivation teachers.

They persisted through the day, taking breaks as required. As groups broke through, she cleaned them up and sent them on their way.

After another group broke through, Amdirlain scried Toko’s location again and found her with Minzhe, sweat running down their cheeks, their hair matted with sweat. They sparred with jian, and Toko pressed Minzhe hard. Amdirlain momentarily widened the view and found them some distance from the tent city, escorted by a group who carried themselves like wary bodyguards. Satisfied they weren’t in immediate danger, she released the focal point.

Mid-afternoon, Haobai broke through. Though he had ignored the purification flames around others, he jumped when the filth bubbling from his skin vanished in flames.

“How have so many people broken through in one day?” Haobai asked, once the flames had died away.

“I cheated,” Amdirlain said. “I said from the start I’d be using some shortcuts.”

“You never said why you’re helping,” Haobai said.

“I can understand that it’s hard for you to trust after having your life stolen and relatives killed. While I can’t bring the dead back to life, I can restore some balance among the living.”

“That makes no sense,” Haobai protested. “You don’t look human, and you smell nothing like any human. Why are you making up for them?” 

“I’m not trying to make up for them, Haobai. I’m doing it because helping the unfortunate and oppressed is the right thing to do. In everyone’s life, sometimes they need a helping hand. Take some time to meditate on it if you’re unsure what I mean.”

“You’re strange, but your scent didn’t get mean just looking at us, so I’ll do what you asked. What do we do from here?”

He’s hoping I’ll change my mind if we keep talking. 

“Future breakthroughs won’t be as easy as this one. Take care, Haobai.” Amdirlain teleported him to the others who were being organised to receive training for the Silver Wall Sect entrance test.

It was nearly evening before Amdirlain had the last of the new cultivators delivered to the locations Jiayi and Mùchén had arranged for their training. Along with the students, she sent stacks of white spirit coins to spread between the sects handling the new cultivators’ education.

Hopefully, I made them work for it enough that they learned the proper technique. Right, I’m done here, so it's time to go home and check in on Ling Xi and Drakon; if he isn’t already in Xiǎo’s bed.

After checking that her forge room was empty, Amdirlain teleported there. The eastern face of the tower was already in shadow, and the closing evening had drawn much of the warmth from the stone-lined room. She stroked her thumb along the edge of the bench, some of the choices she’d made at the First Peak digging at her conscience. Amdirlain fidgeted with the racked tools before she forced herself to stop procrastinating and pushed her attention through her quarters. The only person in the apartment was Ling Xi. Positioned among the circle of chairs in the reading room on the first level, she sat slumped in a chair nearest a darkened window with a jade slip in a white-knuckled grip.

Amdirlain took her time to pad along the dark wood-panelled corridors and descended the stairs quietly, yet Ling Xi still didn’t shift from her position.  Slipping inside the room, silent footsteps carried Amdirlain to the seat across from Ling Xi. When she finally drew her attention from the jade slip she held, Ling Xi straightened with a jerk.

“My apologies, Lady Amdirlain.”

“It’s not an issue. I thought I’d see how you were.”

“I’ve never seen children in such a state,” Ling Xi murmured, and scrubbed her palms across her eyes. 

“Children in danger or ill always rub my nerves,” Amdirlain said. “Which made dealing with the various noble families on First Peak hard.”

“As some families with children are now homeless?”

“Yes. However, they are all with relatives and so have support to reestablish themselves, unlike those whose lives they stole.” Amdirlain leaned back into the chair. “I not only made them homeless but filled their lives with uncertainty; it’s not a comfort.”

“If your positions were reversed, they wouldn’t be concerned about you.”

Threads of wood and steel expanded from Amdirlain’s hand until she cradled a harp, with steel strings and pegs, each already perfectly tuned. Her fingertips caressed the strings and provoked a wailing cry from the instrument, its highest notes so shrill they clawed at mortal hearing. She descended the scale, apparently at random, in light, dancing beats that matched the pace of Ling Xi’s beating heart to catch the sensation in her throat.

“How did that music make you feel?”

“Uncomfortable,” Ling Xi replied.

“Reality is a matter of one’s perspective. To those children, I’ll always be the villain.”

“Are you doubting yourself?”

“No, because I dug into the thoughts and history of the adults I killed. I don’t care if I’m the villain in the eyes of those who personally or whose families kept slaves.”

“You and Drakon are very different, but so alike.”

Amdirlain sat up again. “Why do you say that?”

“When you’re convinced that it’s right to act, neither of you lets anything stop you.” Ling Xi stretched a hand out in front of her. “Yet he goes in straight lines, and you jump about, handling dozens of things at once. It’s like watching sparks lifted aloft by the fire’s heat and never knowing what they’re going to land on or what they’re going to burn.”

“Only sparks?” Amdirlain quipped, only for it to turn bitter on her lips as a chill raced up her spine.

Her suddenly rigid expression drew Ling Xi’s attention. “Is something wrong?”

“I don’t want to provoke any immortal attention to draw me into more trouble.”

“Would they really do that?”

Amdirlain nodded sharply. “I’ve still got at least one mystery to solve from the last lot of trouble.”

“So we’ve got more digging to do?”

“Yes, unfortunately I’ve got a twisted trail to unravel. Though if the knot proves too difficult, I’ll provide Toko’s parents with my findings and leave them to it. The mystery might simply need more background in the involved parties than we possess.”

Finding Eldritch infestations was so much easier.

I hope I’ve not put Toko and Minzhe in the position of being bait to lure out her original poisoners.

♫ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♫

Minzhe’s PoV - Camp of the Shadow Lynx Tribe - First Peak

The coolness of the oncoming evening added to the chill in the spring breeze, which carried the scent of cook fires and the sounds of the nearby tent city to them. Fading sunlight glinted off the spear tips carried by the camp’s outer patrols, whose routes passed where he and Toko circled each other. Their personal bodyguards stood closer, and while most had their attention outwards, a couple watched them sparring.

Fatigue burned in Minzhe’s limbs and, as a tangle of long grass grabbed at his ankle, Toko darted in. With an awkward sidestep, he broke free from the tangle but had to resort to some hard parries to keep her blade from scoring against his chest.

An odd shudder in his training jian prompted Minzhe to backpedal again, and he signalled his submission. “This blade is done.”

The twitch in Toko’s ears screamed of satisfaction as she sheathed her own jian. “You need more practice with a jian; you’re too forceful with your strikes.”

He ignored the sweat dripping down his face and retrieved his chain whip. “Guess I’ll have to move on to other weapons.”

“No,” Toko panted. “Let’s take a break.”

“You sound like you need that more than me.”

“The last two days have been insane, and I’m still getting my conditioning back.” Toko plopped down on a cleared patch of dirt and took a drag on a waterskin.

“Yes, everything is turned on its head, but you having your cultivation back makes it all worth it,” Minzhe said.

“Even if people die?”

“People die, Toko. You can’t control that, and you’re not the only one she rescued,” Minzhe said. “Isn’t it narcissistic to think your situation kicked everything off?”

Toko tore a lump of dirt from the ground and bounced it off the top of his head.

“Ouch, I’m under attack,” Minzhe drawled, and pretended to shield his face.

“We’ve flipped roles, Minzhe. I saw the way the beast-kin eyed you.” Toko knelt beside him and tried to brush bits of dirt from his hair, only for them to end up smeared into mud.

“I’ll avoid them. Plus, your dad assigned guards to us, so he’s worried about them taking it out on you as well.”

“I think he’s keeping something from me. Why was the training pavilion so torn up when we arrived? How did we actually get here? We were still over the human lands, and some of the guards’ orders made no sense.”

“You prowling around looking for information will just get you found out,” Minzhe said. “You’ve got to readjust to your strength and speed. Or did you say that expecting the guards to report it? They didn’t get told to spy on you, only to ensure your safety.”

“And that all food got checked,” Toko added. “Who would poison me here?”

“Maybe he is worried about someone slipping in and out of camp. Just like whoever snatched us from the sky and set us amid the ruined pavilion.” Minzhe spread his arms. “At least we’ve got plenty of training space?”

“Hardly a fair exchange for what you and Mother gave up,” Toko said.

Minzhe snorted. “I’m happy to be rid of it, and you’re safer here. Shall we restart?”

“I’ve got a spare training jian you can use.” Toko offered a sheathed blade with her left hand.

“Not a chance. This time I’ll use my chain whip,” Minzhe grinned.

A thickening of shadows stole the day’s fading warmth, and the guards drew weapons as nearly complete darkness drowned them all.