The entire city was on edge after the attack. It wasn’t every day, after all, that a formation that hadn’t been activated in living mory was suddenly called to the fullest extent of its function— that a brazen and horrific attack was carried out in what was, essentially their backyard, that they were reminded just how vulnerable they were in the ultimate sche of things. That they, ultimately, beneath the heavens and fixed between the gaze of the Empire of Nine Sunlights and the Aurelian Alliance of Sects, were just another location— an important location, sure, but not even remotely close to the level of importance that Bexian Port had once held title to.
Everyone knew what’d happened to Bexian Port. The thought that could happen to them… it was unnerving, to be reminded so.
For a long while, nobody knew if they were or weren’t going to war. The Fleet had put to air the mont the shields had fallen— even now, an enormous battleship hovered ominously over the city, its weapons carefully trained— ready to defend the city with the fullest force it could bring to bear, if it ca to that. The rest of them had… left— were to, Lily had no idea, and neither did anyone else she talked to— but it was clear that they were expecting a fight.
Half a week passed in that tense quiet the whole world seeming to hold its breath, before they finally got real news. The fleet had gone into hiding, just in case the attack was to be followed up with a more strategically important strike— but none had been forthcoming. Rather, the Empire of Nine Sunlights had categorically denied any involvent with the strike, claiming that they would, of course, never be privy to such a flagrant betrayal of the peace treaties that’d been signed at the end of the last war.
That was, of course, a sick joke to anyone who knew even the slightest bit about the history of Aurelia, but the Bloody Saffron Sect had, at least in this instance, made a statent that they didn’t believe the Empire to be behind the recent attack, so it was reluctantly accepted. Not totally, but… mostly After all, nobody really wanted to go to war again. Not so soon.
Things were certainly different, though. There was an urgency, a frenetic malaise over the entire city that hadn’t been there before. She could see it in every little interaction, tempered from the regular rhythms of life that’d been present before. Students hustled about with just a little more urgency than they had priorly. Workers worked just a little harder, as though if they pushed themselves to exhaustion they would be able to forget— to buoy forth, in so small way, the success of a city that had always relied on their defender-sect.
For Lily, by and large, nothing changed. She was already doing the work of two n, so it wasn’t like she could add on more. If anything, she was still doing less than she usually did, as classes hadn’t begun again yet, and she hadn’t quite started on her project. She’d looked into the topic, yes; it wasn’t a very easy thing to research. It seed that ridian-opening thods were kept tightly secret… understandably, as they were the lifeblood of any organization. To so simply share even the weakest and most useless of them…
Well, she’d expected that she’d have been able to find at least one of them, tucked away in so library or buried deep in the tangled ss of interlacing dataslate networks, but alas; librarians were not entirely incompetent— or weirdly too competent to care about such things, as she had all too much experience with— and she found nothing but the most bare-bones descriptions of what those sorts of techniques should look like.
About the spirit, at least, she’d begun to find so rather interesting leads— there were a great many rather well put together diaries and moirs from cultivators concerning the spirit itself, and its many intricacies. Now, if all the ones she read didn’t all seem entirely random and completely separate from one another, that would be great…
She sighed, pulling her coat just a little tighter around herself. Another cold spell had struck the city— this one, harsh enough that even a cultivator could feel it. She was both jealous about Avyr’s ability to just utterly ignore the bitter chill and empathetic for the cats who didn’t have his ability and had to either go out wrapped in blankets, or just stay indoors…
She was certainly glad that they’d never been so struck by the bitter-chill of winter when they’d been up in the Dragonspine Mountains. She didn’t know what that would’ve felt like, but… yes, that would have been uncomfortable.
To put it lightly.
Finally, she arrived at her destination, stopping— beside a huddle of wrought-iron chairs, laden under snow that had accumulated in the night and had yet to be brushed off by the workers. The morning light caught the almost-pristine scene beautifully, glimring off white and harshest black— strokes of steel calligraphy, starkly against the parchnt pale winter.
Winter-fall crunched behind her, and she glanced back calmly, a faint smile dripping onto her face as she ca face to face with the person she’d co to et. “Aomao. It’s been too long.”
“It’s just been a month or two!” The other girl was… well, she didn’t look quite as cold as she felt, which Lily couldn’t help but find unfair, given that she was barely wearing anything more than a typical set of cultivator’s robes. “It’s good to see you too!” Was that just a cultivator— and Mingtian— thing? To completely ignore the weather as a minor nuisance? Suddenly, she was acutely interested in advancing straight to core formation…
“I didn’t think you’d co.”
“It’s fine.” She waved a— gloved— hand, the motion catching on the edge of snow and casting, in its afterimage breeze, a thousand tiny glittering flakes up to dance in the sunlight. “I can’t believe that you were attacked over the break. Attacked!” She shook her head. “It’s insane.”
Lily shrugged. “So it goes, being a cultivator…”
“So it does not go!” Aomao shook her head, chuckling softly as they stepped into the courtyard, charting a course through the winter and jumbled ss of furniture to the teahouse, its warm glow cast beautifully against the pure morning. “I can assure you, that is not usual when it cos to cultivation. Most cultivators will probably live their entire lives not having to fight more than a ti or two.”
Lily shot her a weird look. “No way.”
“It’s true, I promise.” Aomao ca to a sudden stop in the center of the courtyard. “You’re thinking of cultivators. Of the ones who truly chase heaven… I don’t think it’s entirely wrong to do that, but you need to be careful to rember the others; those who are simply cultivators by grace of the Bloody Saffron Sect and… whatever, economic or political necessity.”
“There…” yes, now that she thought of it, she could imagine it. “So… most of the cultivators in the city.”
A nod. “You’ve probably never even thought about them, no?” She had, just… it was striking, in that mont, how much she realized that they weren’t sothing she would consider cultivators. Yuxan, most of all, but even Guxi in a way… much less people like her old Qi Theory instructor, or Lexi, or any of the other scattered, random ‘cultivators’ who’d earned the position by just… doing their jobs. To them, it was simply a handful of extra years, a great deal of improved quality of life, and the status of it. It was not their drive, their great impetus, their duty… “but everyone in the Bloody Saffron Sect is a cultivator.”
“The Bloody Saffron Sect is one of the greatest powers in the world— of course everyone who’s a part of that vaunted institution will be a cultivator of the most utterly peerless quality.” She snorted, but Lily could see still— in the swirling breath of air, in the slight cant of her eyes and the slump of her shoulders, a hint of bitterness. “They have… subordinate factions to round out their numbers, when numbers are a thing that matters. Hontian-si, for example.”
“I was under the impression that Hontian-si was an ancient and noble institution."
“Of course we are,” she replied easily, utterly at odds with what she’d just said— “the Bloody Saffron Sect is just an older, and even more respectable behemoth of an institution. The sheer weight of their history was such that even the Empire of Twelve Constellations had to be step careful around them.” She shook her head. “No matter, though. You understand, that everyone who is not of equal power to the Sect is below the sect, and everyone who is below the sect, is all but owned by it. They simply… have little regard for the day to day running of such things.”
“More than they used to.”
“That’s what they say, at least. I don’t know if I’d trust them. More likely, it’s just the wealthy families in Old Saffron that really hold all the power in the city.”
“I…” Lily didn’t want to contradict her friend, not when she sounded so utterly certain about it. However, she had also talked to Zhihu, and compared to a single, sowhat foul-mood bound monk of a temple on the other side of Saffron Lake and an Outer— no, an Inner disciple, she knew who she’d rather trust.
The Bloody Saffron Sect watched over them. It had to. That was what she’d been told her entire life, from the mont she was old enough to realize what’d really happened to her parents, to the mont she’d gone to school first, to the mont she’d pushed ahead of her peers and kept up with the likes of Xinshi and Uramaphara.
Perhaps sensing her bad mood, Aomao pivoted, turning away from that particularly grim conversation. With one foot, she kicked halfheartedly at the snow beneath her, revealing— in the streaks of blackened stone unveiled, harsh lines struck true, the cracked and pitted flagstones beneath them. When Lily followed the sa, she realized she could feel it— not through the insulating layer of snow, but if she put even the slightest amount of effort into plowing her feet through the fluffy layer of white, she could sense the rugged contours of the…
She blinked as she realized just what she was feeling. “Is this…”
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“Did you ever wonder why I asked to et you here?” She had, a little, though she’d ultimately ended up assuming it had sothing to do with the fact that it was really cold outside, and that a cup of steaming-hot tea would be good for the soul… “I have so good news. Well,” she qualified, “good news for you at least. There’s a rather large amount of people here for whom this will likely co as a rather unpleasant shock in the coming days.”
Slightly nervous, slightly— “what?” Excited. Aomao had grown up around cultivators, and not in the attenuated sense of the word— what she considered to be exciting news was probably at least sowhat more interesting than the usual… Or, at least— she hoped— sowhat better inford.
Her friend smiled. It was not an entirely nice smile. “I was wondering if you’d heard of it yet…”
“Hear of what?” If her voice was just a little plaintive at the end of that, then nobody would ever have to know. Except for Aomao. Because she was standing right there.
Aomao smirked. “The Song brothers. They’re not coming back next sester.”
For a long second, Lily just blinked dumbly. “They’re… not? Returning?” It was just… it felt impossible in a way, so fundantal law of the universe upturned beneath the sudden disorder of new news. “Truly? You don’t jest?”
“I wouldn’t ever jest with you about sothing like this. No, you don’t have to worry about whatever other stupid sche they decide is the peak of cultivator insanity. Hopefully this ans that the amount of life and death battles you get into— which, by the way, if I didn’t ntion it earlier, is astoundingly high—” she had, actually, “will decrease.”
It felt… she hadn’t realized how much the shadow of that had hovered over her until it was suddenly gone. It was intangible, but… not quite. The whole world, in that mont, then, felt— brighter, in so impossible to grasp way, more giddy and alive, brought into perfect focus. A feeling bubbled up within her, euphoric and effervescent, and lit gayly with pastel light, as— she could not resist it, to but laugh, a single sharp and peaceful sound. For a mont she did not care about the implications, she didn’t spare even the slightest amount of attention to what it ant that they, the two highest-placed candidates for entrance to the Bloody Saffron Sect— were gone, that was the sort of relief she felt.
A terrible weight, obliviated in an instant.
How wonderful…
But, as all dreams of peach-blossom hidden lands tended to, she was dragged back to reality soon enough, by one nagging, very important thought— “why?”
Aomao shot her a look. “Seriously you don’t actually have to ask …” she chuckled. “It’s very simple, actually. They’re dead.” She said it so utterly nonchalantly that it took a few monts to sink in. “In the recent attacks. He was one of the casualties. That was… horrifying. It was almost just as horrifying that she didn’t feel bad about it. Did it make her amoral, that she still was mostly just relieved that she wouldn’t be bothered by him anymore?
In so, cruel sense, she couldn’t help but think that it was so very karmic; how just, that those who’d tried to kill her had been killed themselves?
She imdiately stuffed that thought in a box and grimaced. “I… see.” She did not see. It all felt so senseless, the violence of it all. So utterly… she could not but be disgusted at it.
It reminded her, in so ways, of Mingtian. He was obviously better than the sort of person who’d randomly attack a city and kill children, but there was still… when he’d spoken to her about the path of power, the path into power, the all-consuming path… she couldn’t help but be reminded of that.
It was a bitter reminder.
For a long mont, they didn’t speak— besides ordering themselves hot tea and sitting down at the edge of it all, so montarily freed from the stress of it all. At their black-iron table, held between the snow and heaven, where the whole world seed to just fade beyond the curling wisp of their fragrant tea…
She sighed, the bitter cold invading her lungs harshly enough to make the simple action sting. She embraced the sting, breathing, and watching the swirl of fog plu in front of her. Intermingling with the tea-aroma and becoming, in a way, so strange and new qi…
Her own and the worlds.
“Each action…” she was quiet for a long while. “Do you think he’d still be alive if he won his fight?”
“With you?” Aomao scoffed. “Sure, maybe. Who cares? He lost, and good riddance to that— he was trying to kill you, you know.” She shook her head. “There cos a ti, I think, that soone just… deserves it. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”
“I…” sothing to be considered later. Perhaps with soone she was closer to… which, ultimately, was pretty much Avyr only. She didn’t have many friends. “What do you know about ridian Opening?”
“Opening? As in, the cultivation stage?”
“No, actual ridian opening.” She snorted. Of course those two would get confused. “It’s been a topic of so interest recently, and I wanted to know more about it… and, considering that you’re the disciple of—”
“It’s not like the Temple Master of Hontain-si actually tells anything. There’s a reason he’s considered sowhat of a mad genius, you know? The sort of things he comprehends are not in the purview of a re Shedding cultivator such as I to discern.”
“Oh.”
“I suppose though, as you’re probably going to get into the sect, I ought to tell you as much as I can. Basically, the ridians are… as far as I understand, it, similar to pretty much any other technique, though the… depth? I think it is the depth of them, that is much greater than the norm. Or maybe it’s that it's much shallower… whatever that ans. I’m rely relaying to you what little I’ve heard from him over the years.”
“I… well, thank you regardless.” She sat back, sipping at her tea as Aomao continued to speak on all the various matters of ridian opening that she had even the slightest knowledge of, feeling faintly… sick. Ill at ease, for sure. Aomao probably hadn’t ant much by it, but…
She was one of the top candidates now, that the Song-clan students were gone… perhaps the top candidate amongst the entire student body.
She bore with it until they parted ways, Aomao heading back to her dwelling while she retraced her path through the snow to their house— wondering, for a mont. Dreading, for a mont… realizing, in that mont, that sothing between the two of them had changed. They had never been equals, but even that faint veneer…
The attack had changed a great many things in East Saffron, and things were changing even still— and Lily could not help but wonder—
If in an enemy’s defeat, she had lost a friend.
………
Later that night, Avyr flopped down on the living room floor beside her, exhausted. It could be hard to tell sotis, with him— what with his usual cool and catlike composure— but this ti it was very evident. She quirked up an eyebrow, nudging him with a foot to get his attention. “Long day?”
“The longest,” he murred, barely intelligible. “I took the ti to visit the greenhouse while you were out today and…” he flexed his claws, in and out, thrice with a barely veiled rage. “I had been led to believe that they were going to take good care of my plants over the break. If that is what they consider good care, then I despair for the fate of East Saffron’s herbalism.”
“That bad?”
“Worse. If they had sohow just let my plant die, I wouldn’t have been as upset.” He sighed, thwapping his tail against the floor in frustration. “It’s just so stupid. They took care of it perfectly— the flower is still in full bloom, the vines are ripe with verdant growth, the leaves are unfurled perfectly, and— they completely ruined what I was trying to achieve. The elental shift was going to be so interesting! I would have definitely gotten extra points for value, and now…” he sighed. “It’s just a normal spirit flower. I left instructions for what they needed to do to keep the transformation on track and everything, but apparently greenhouse technicians can’t read…”
“Ah. That’s rough. Is it truly unsalvagable?”
He lifted a leg, then let it flop back down, almost lazily. A shrug. “I hope not. It’s still one of the best herbs in the class, but I didn’t want to be one of the best. I wanted to be the best.”
“You are better than them. To think, they’re doing all that with hands, and you’re still beating them while you literally paw at your tools.” That managed to get a faint wl of amusent from the big cat— not much, but given how exhausted he was, it was still sowhat of an achievent. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. If worst cos to worst, we can work together on a formation or sothing. Or you can learn refining and just do it manually.”
“I think both of those are cheating. Though if I refined the flower myself…”
“Please tell you aren’t actually considering that.” Refining was an even more secretive and difficult to understand art than alchemy. “It’ll be fine. Your other spiritual herbs are still doing well, no?” He nodded, slowly. “Then you’re going to stay ahead of the pack. You’ll be fine.”
“I just…” he sighed. “I’m ahead of most of my classmates, but I don’t care about them. I just don’t want to drag you down.”
Lily blinked… for a mont, stricken, before she laughed. So brightly, so purely, compared to earlier in the day… “that’s silly. You’d never be able to do that.”
“It could happen—”
“It’s not dragging down if I willingly choose to stay with you.”
“That’s…” then, in a softer voice, tinged with the rumbling echo of a purr— “thank you.”
It was different, she realized, with a lancholy sort of sense… “That’s just… what a real friend would do.” She ant it. She would never abandon Avyr. “My eting with Aomao earlier today—” Avyr glanced up, clearly a little interested despite his clear exhaustion— “compared to this… she was clearly just trying to get close to because of my position.”
“Ah. I can see how that would be a problem for you.”
“I… I find it distasteful.”
Avyr blinked slowly, nodding. “It’s… even to so extent, I’m seeing it here. Not that I have any friends…” he chuckled. “It was a bigger thing, back… ho.” Softer, so soft she almost couldn’t hear it. “I didn’t see it then, but it’s obvious in retrospect, that so of the kittens who ca to play with were clearly spurred on by their parents. Not all of them… we were a small clan, even if my parents had high standing amongst the clans by virtue of their discipleship to Rr’an; I was more popular than my personality would have suggested.”
“How did you deal with it?”
“My parents did. I don’t think that’s much of an option here.” It was a dark joke, shared between them— but Lily laughed anyway. “In all seriousness… I do not truly know. I can’t imagine it’ll get much easier when we join the Bloody Saffron Sect… just keep true to yourself. Know who’s a friend and who’s an ally, and who truly has your back, in every weather and season…”
Lily laughed softly, dropping a hand onto Avyr’s head and tousling the fur between his ears. “Of course I’ll rember.” It was a promise.
It was their small, their unbreakable bond.
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