Forge of Destiny - Threads 44 Death 1
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Threads 44 Death 1

Threads 44 Death 1

It took four days to make it back to the Sect.

For the first time, Ling Qi got a real sense of just how massive the province and the Empire were. Ling Qi had been a little surprised that they had not simply taken another transport formation, but when she had asked, Cai Renxiang had informed her that it would be an excessive expense.

Ling Qi kept herself busy by beginning to examine the flows of some of her arts and how she could channel them more efficiently, using fewer meridians. Cai Renxiang was not one for small talk, so it helped to keep her from going stir crazy and kept her mind off other things. If she lost herself in weaving new and better qi patterns, she did not have to think about staring eyes and the broken pile of frozen meat that had once been a man.

It did not help that Sixiang had remained dormant for two full days, only awakening after they had been attended to by a physician in a larger city on their way. The restorative elixir Ling Qi had been given to speed the healing of her less physical wounds had rejuvenated the spirit as well. Even then, however, the muse had remained quiet and reticent. Zhengui had been quiet as well. Only Hanyi remained in high spirits, and she had quickly gotten frustrated with everyone else’s mood.

Ling Qi had never been so glad to see the Outer Sect mountain than she had been on the evening of the fourth day. When she had taken leave of her liege, she had gone straight to her mother’s home. Her encounters with the staff had been as awkward as always, especially with memories of the past swimming closer to the surface than usual. However, when she had met again with her mother, the first thing the older woman had done when they were alone was hug her.

It had felt good to discard the pretense of a cold noblewoman. That had been the first night that she had spent at the house in town and the first time that she had slept in some time. She found that she did not mind as much when she could spend those unconscious hours walking the shore of the sea of dreams at Sixiang’s side in contemplation.

She remained at the house the next day, sitting in at breakfast with her mother and sister. She left for a short time to move into her new residence from successfully challenging the disciple ranked 768 and advancing into a new tier the month before and to drop off Zhengui at the hill the Sect had set aside for his use. Her little brother, both halves of him, had been insistent that they wanted to practice some things in a place where they wouldn’t break anything important. Hanyi had elected to go with him to “make sure he didn’t just laze around.”

It left Ling Qi with some time to spend with the human part of her family, something she was glad for. She was glad to have a little moment of quiet out on the veranda with her mother while Biyu played in the garden.

“I am glad that you seem to be recovering from your trip,” her mother said quietly, cradling a cup of tea in her hands. “Are you able to speak about it?” The older woman was still hesitant in her address.

Ling Qi almost demurred. The things troubling her were not something her mother could easily relate to, but she had decided against keeping her mother out of things just because those things might trouble her, had she not?

“We went, and we dealt with the bandits,” Ling Qi replied with a wry smile. “I was just the one who dealt with a lot of them personally.”

Ling Qingge nodded, looking out at Biyu chasing butterflies through the garden. “I had thought it was so,” she admitted.

Ling Qi glanced toward her without turning her head. She supposed it was an obvious assumption to make given her haggard state the night before. “Your family before – were any of them in the guard or the army?”

“A few cousins,” her mother answered. “And though I know you would ill like to hear it, many clients as well. It is not uncommon for young men to come seeking comfort after their first brush with death.”

Ling Qi wrinkled her nose in disgust, but… Yes, she could accept the point. “I think I will find other outlets,” she said dryly.

“Probably for the best,” Sixiang murmured, the wind of their words tussling Ling Qi’s hair.

Ling Qingge did not startle at the spirit’s interjection. “I agree. I was merely pointing out that the look in your eyes was familiar in more than one way.”

Ling Qi sighed but nodded. “And what does one do to get over it?”

Her mother frowned. “Some become cruel, others separate their duties from themselves, and more merely accept it as a grim necessity. There are as many reactions as there are people. I am sorry, my daughter. I have no simple answers for you.”

“I don’t think there is one. You lot aren’t built to just accept this kinda thing, I think,” Sixiang mused. “There’s so much art and song and rhetoric dedicated to making it seem okay after all.”

So she had to find her own path forward. That was hardly new. She thought back to Cai Renxiang’s words. This, too, was part of being a cultivator. It was a responsibility that arose from power in this world. She thought she could understand a bit what motivated those hermits who went