Chapter 2: Chapter 2

The joy of the declaration had not settled even for a moment as inner disciples showed a newfound dedication to their arts while others followed suit. The chefs began to hone their meals while the hostesses held quiet battles over tea and service. Qiaolian quietly chuckled at the scenes just beyond the door though as the injured masses sang their groaning hymn she knew her delight was short-lived.

 

As each bandage was cut and changed Qaolian watched her scry beads closely for any hint of cursed qi. Thus banyan bark found itself laid over every wound within the medicine hall. Qiaolian sat diligently beside each disciple laying bark beneath bandage until a distinct creek broke her focus.

 

A sharp turn pinned her eyes on a young disciple, his body prime but undeveloped and wrapped in bandages. He stood frozen in place as his cot laid disheveled and the door opened a touch farther than before.

 

“Get back to bed, you're in no condition for training” Qiaolian shouted.

 

“Come on” the disciple whined “I gotta train now if we're going to the emperors' court”

 

Rising from the bedside Qiaolian marched with a steely determination “You won't be going anywhere if you can't even walk”

 

“I'll eat some banyan pills,” the disciple shrugged.

 

“No! Now get back here and rest,” Qiaolian said, grasping the disciples' sleeves. 

 

For but a moment the world seemed to freeze and in an instant Qiaolian watched the floor shift below her in a single nauseous wave. Looking to the disciple a visage of disgust laid etched on his face. Slapping her hand away the disciple gave a wicked sneer.

 

“Oh shut up you're nothing but a lousy arcanist. Maybe you'd be useful if you had any qi but you don't so don't waste my time.”

 

Qaiolain stood silent, the words sinking deep like stones in a river yet caustic bile seemed to object to her silence.

 

“Well, at least I help the sect instead of lying wounded on a yaoguai” she muttered.

 

In an instant, the room rattled as furious winds blew throughout the space. A stark heat was what Qiaolian noticed at first before the disciples' form came into clear view. His fist extended far past her head and at once she collapsed. Her heart slammed against her ribs as a stinging slash now ran across her cheek. Cupping the meager wound now coating her face Qiaolian looked up to see the disciples disgusted look once more

 

“You couldn't even see my fist just then could you?” The disciple asked. “Useful to sect, your only use is when the battle ends. Know your fucking place.”

 

With that, the disciple took his leave followed by many others. Qiaolian knew that those that remained wouldn't have done so willingly and still though blood trickled down her cheek she tended to the disciples. The only thing she knew how to do.

 

Soon enough the small hall was empty leaving Qiaolian to clean and retreat to the hovel she called a workshop. Though as she gathered bloodied gauze and errant needles a spark of anger caught her for a moment. The needle was quick to find her hand before shooting off through an odd crack in the wall. In an instant her anger deflated, rushing over to the wall Qiaolian felt a chill creep through her veins as sunlight gleamed through the odd fissure.

 

‘Great! That's another needle, gone’ kicking the cot before her Qiaolian winced as she rubbed her face. The next moment moved in a blur as Qiaolian found her fist planted firmly against the wall, with skinned knuckles blossoming with hints of blood. Pulling back, Qiaolian cradled her hand bated breath leaving her lips before a new sound claimed her senses.

 

“Woah what did the wall do to you?”

 

Whipping around Qiaolian took in the shock of crimson hair and the scent of firewood as Zhao Cai lingered in the doorway. Shielding her hand from view Qiaolian gave a shallow bow “y-young master what has brought you to the medicine hall, are you injured?”

 

Qiaolian rattled the often rehearsed line yet with a simple hand wave the air of formality was dismissed. “Oh come on, no ones around right now so drop the formalities would you”

 

Eying the door for a moment Qiaolian relaxed “sorry it's just a bit of frustration, no big deal”

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“Was it the hostesses again or was the wall just being especially rude today”

 

“Nothing for you to worry about besides why would you care you've got an entire temple to look after.

 

“There'd be nothing to look after if you weren't here” Cai mused.

 

Qiaolian gave a tired laugh as the last cot was rolled away “Yeah well at least in the emperor's court I could have a proper still and more than five acupuncture needles”

 

“That reminds me,” carefully Cai pulled a small series of jade plates from his robes some sat completely while others laid in fractured shards.

 

“We found these on our hunt; they appear to be some recipes and rituals. Most are intact but..” Cai held the small plates with a rueful smile leaving Qiaolian to sigh in return.

 

Taking the plates with cautious hands, Qiaolian couldn't help but shake her head.

 

“You're still a bumbling mess aren't you,” she asked, eying the plates.

 

“Hey! is that any way to speak to your young master”

 

“The same young master who can't ride his bond without stomach tonic” Qiaolian snickered.

 

“Hey, those pyre cats are fast okay…” Cai muttered heat rising to his cheeks “and if you could make some more stomach tonic I would appreciate it”.

 

Shaking her head Qiaolian gave Cai patted his shoulder “Don't worry I'll fix the plates before last light and I'll be sure Houju gets a little treat as well”

 

Cai looked to Qiaolian with dejected eyes for a moment “He misses you, you know”

 

“I'm an arcanist” Qiaolian stated flatly “unless you can boost my qi somehow he’ll have to wait till he hurts his paws or something”.

 

Silence filled the space between Cai and Qiaolian, flooding the great chasm that separated the two. Qiaolian had once tried to follow her friend yet as fate would have it, she was born to aid cultivators not become one.

 

Cai sighed as he moved to the door leaving a lingering eye on his childhood friend “Just… come by when you can”.

 

“Of course, young master”

 

Cai grimaced at the title as Qiaolian turned to face him, hosting a weak-willed smile “see you around Cai”.

 

Leaving the hall Qiaolian squirreled away to her workshop the mighty sun falling to the horizon and the distant cries of inner disciples washing the skies. Enveloped in darkness, Qiaolian lit the few braziers leaving the soft glow of firelight to reveal the small wall of vials and furnaces that filled the space. 

 

Hunched close to her discordant table, Qiaolian laid each plate across with dexterous skill and set to work. Many of the shards were clean leading the paste to slide smoothly across their edge and as the plate came to form its shade grew deeper with bursts of shadow blooming within. Finally, the plate repaired in its truest composition laid black dripping with an accursed pitch qi – a qi Qiaolian was trained to catch. Thus with the afterglow of day choked by night Qiaolian sat in awe of a true cursed art and the dark power it promised to hold.

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