Booker watched with great satisfaction. The elders were completely taken off guard. One by one, their eyes widened as they took in what a sincere and serious gift they'd been given. And then, as they reached the hypnotic poem contained within, they began to blink heavily and sink into the hypnotic world of the spirit gardener's poems.
They quickly shook themselves out of it, realizing what had happened. But all of them looked shaken to their core.
“This,” Sun Pan began, “this does render great merit.” His tone was one of shocked disbelief.
Booker was smug. The true secret advantage he held in this situation was his mask: two of them knew his identity, and likely a third had already learned, but others did not.
To Sun Pan and Snow Palace, he would happily give the story that they'd simply found this in a cave, but the others, well, they had been presented with a masked man who came bearing incredible gifts, claiming to be from some faraway land. They had no choice but to assume he had an incredible backer.
If they grew too greedy and began to try and shake other secrets free, he could fall back on this phantom presence. If the heat grew too much, he could ‘admit’ that they’d found it by chance. He was in a position where he could play either preconception to his advantage.
Booker foresaw nothing but complete victory.
Bai Deng, who had been the third to rouse herself from the hypnotic slumber, slammed a palm against the desk. Her face was drawn into a scowl, accepting simply that she had been beaten. “This changes things.”
“I should think so,” snapped Snow Palace. “This changes everything. This knowledge, this gift, provides us an advantage against the Mantis Sect that can be measured in thousand-year terms. How can we refuse? How can we fail to reciprocate?”
And here comes the fun part, Booker thought.
“Considering this gift, there can be no question. They will be allowed into the holy ground,” Snow Palace continued, daring anyone to contradict her. None did. “What's more, my tribe will inscribe them with with the Four-Directions Beast Ruling Tattoo, so they can profit fully from the holy ground. In this time we show our utmost generosity..”
“That is quite the gift,” Sun Pan said, raising an eyebrow.
Sun Pan knows the score, Booker thought. Snow Palace is rewarding me lavishly to set a high expectation that the others will have to follow to save face. But I’m arranged to marry into her tribe. In the end, she’ll be the one reaping in the rewards…
“Yuezheng Yue, I know you recently came into some azure-scale armor. Could you not provide these daoists with something suited to protect them within the holy ground? I cannot help but notice, well…”
Sun Pan gestured.
Booker was wearing robes that had literally been torn apart by a tiger, soiled with blood and dirt, and soiled a dozen different ways. His clothes hung off him like rags.
“This is no fit way for a guest to be seen.” Sun Pan concluded.
Heh, Sun Pan isn’t bad either. It’s in his interest to keep this from getting out of hand, but he also doesn’t want to seem stingy, so he suggests Yuezheng Yue give a modest gift.
“Of course…” But Yuezheng Yue said no more. She looked like she’d swallowed a bug.
“You have asked to bring two allies with you.” Bai Deng announced. “I will double this. Two of my sons will accompany you, putting aside all competition. They will protect and aid our visitors so they can reap the full benefits. Speaking bluntly, Fortune-Teller Stone has clearly offended, and I hope this shows sincerity on my part.”
So she promises manpower. Extremely cheap to offer, but actually what I need most.
Sun Pan nodded, swinging his fan down. “As for the Sun Tribe, we will outfit them with fine weapons, whatever best suits them from our armory.”
The Sun Tribe votes twice, and pays once. What an arrangement.
“Thank you, elders.” Booker clasped his hand. “Considering this matter has been put to rest, I only ask to join the expedition for the sacred deer as well. I have something that might render some assistance.”
“The daoist Northsparrow is correct.” Yuezheng Yue admitted, although Booker still registered the faintest bitter note in her voice. “The trail of the sacred deer is going cold.
“Since it’s agreed and we don’t have much time.” Snow Palace suggested. “I will take these daoists aside and apply the tattoos.”
A Four-Directions Beast Ruling Tattoo… He privately consulted his jade pendant in the depths of his sleeves, reading out of the corner of his eyes as he followed with Snow Palace and Snow Blossom. His eyebrows rose.
Totemic-Binding Tattoo Rune
Advanced Difficulty // Earth-Quality
A tattoo rune that binds a living talisman to the service of the bearer.
Effect (10% Mastery): Grants the first mastery breakpoint of the captured talisman-beast.
Effect (25% Mastery): Grants physical affinities and the second mastery breakpoint of the captured talisman-beast.
Effect (75% Mastery): Grants a transformative state and the final mastery breakpoint of the captured talisman-beast.
That’s no joke…
So this holy ground contains talisman beasts? I’ve never even heard of a talisman beast.
They brushed through the crowd. If before the young warriors had been looking on with bloodlust, they now had a certain reverence. They hadn’t seen the technique directly, but they’d seen the sea change in attitude, and understand the gravity of the Snow Tribe’s gift. Some of them could expect to inherit this technique and begin training it before the sun set.
Any discovery of secret cultivating knowledge was an electrifying moment. If one of these warriors, who might be struggling in the current techniques, was able to master this new one…
Then their life had changed.
Booker glanced over to Xan and Fen – the latter supporting the former. Xan looked faintly thunderstruck and his eyes were still clouded with pain, but he was grinning viciously. Fen had a refined and elegant smirk, eyes scanning the crowd, no doubt searching for the messenger. Booker had his eyes peeled too…
That fucker’s just gotten the surprise of his life. I’d like to see his face.
In the end, this was an exchange of blows between strangers. He took advantage of my lack of knowledge, but couldn’t have known I had such a powerful card in my back pocket. In the end I was able to learn more, and pick out Yuezheng Yue as the likely perpetrator. Now I know what to guard against.
And my entry to the holy ground is secure.
As Xan and Fen were pulled away so a healer could treat Xan’s legs, Snow Palace led the way into an opulent tent with a palette bed and many ornate, decorated tools. Booker scanned over them, seeing racks of scrolls, inkstones, and all the stuff of a talisman-maker’s workshop. Except there were long steel-needled picks in place of brushes.
The only occupant was a very old man sitting on a stool mixing ink, who looked up with milk-gray eyes from beneath long white-whiskered eyebrows. “Young Mistress Snow…?” He called out, quite blind.
“Hello again grandfather.” Snow Palace said with genuine care, touching his shoulder and allowing him to rest his hand atop hers. “I have brought you the young man…” A glance to Snow Blossom, who was once again monitoring the peripheries of the tent. Snow Blossom nodded. “... the young man who is to be your great-great grandson. He will be entering the holy ground and has earned the Four-Directions Beast Ruling Tattoo.”
“Ah.” He grinned toothlessly and gestured to Booker, rolling up his sleeves. “Sit. Open your robes. I’m pleased to meet you. The first Valley Rain was a friend of mine. Vicious bastard. Loved him to death…”
Ah, I wish I knew what to say when someone addressed me as Rain. Something feels wrong about taking up the approval he wanted so badly…
“Thank you Elder Snow.” Lying back on the palette, he opened his robes. Snow Blossom turned her eyes aside.
The old man began with a brush, painting four simple designs onto his skin in an ashy gray paint. These initial designs looked like nothing much. Picking up a small metal pick with a simple wooden handle and a sponge-cloth soaked in a truly vile smelling ink, he moved with remarkable speed, as fast and efficient as a machine as he pricked an outline of small dots across each shape, then dabbed on a mixture of ink and itching, irritating acid into the minute wound left behind.
It took time. Snow Palace drifted away, calling guards to the tent. Her final instruction was to Snow Blossom – “Show him the treasure pavillion.” Booker couldn’t focus on what that might mean. The acrid elixir being sponged into the pinprick wounds didn’t hurt at his level of cultivation but it itched and took all his willpower not to scratch.
When the old man sponged away the initial outline of ashy paint a constellation of small talisman marks was left behind. The elder moved slowly to the rack of scrolls, removing one and unfurling it for Booker to see. The scroll contained a vastly complicated set of four talismans, which Booker had to turn his head to notice were incomplete, missing the marks already needled into his skin.
“The only part I need to draw directly on you are the anchor lines, see? The rest can be prepared before hand.” The old man explained as he pressed the talisman scroll to Booker’s side. There was a flash of energy, and the ink burned through the paper as if it was scalding hot, entering Booker’s skin with an agonizing sensation. His muscles tensed and his eyes went blank with shock.
“You certainly know how to make an impression. I couldn’t have expected you to bring out such an important gift. I don’t suppose you have any other surprises I should be warned about?” Snow Blossom’s voice called him back to the present. Booker gave his spinning head a shake, straightening up on the palette.
He looked down.
On the right side of his chest there was a ring made of four interconnected beasts – the black tortoise, azure dragon, vermillion bird, and white tiger – chasing each other’s tails. In the middle an empty space waited. The quality of the talisman-marks was over fifty percent. Not perfect by any means, but an incredible treasure in the relative poverty of the valley.
Four-Directions Beast Ruling Talisman
52% Mastery // Earth-Quality
A talismanic tattoo that can capture a single living talisman, permanently binding their powers to the tattoo’s bearers as a spiritual totem.
First Rune: Totemic-Binding Tattoo
Effect (10% Mastery): Grants the first mastery breakpoint of the captured talisman-beast.
Effect (25% Mastery): Grants physical affinities and the second mastery breakpoint of the captured talisman-beast.
Effect (75% Mastery): Grants a transformative state and the final mastery breakpoint of the captured talisman-beast.
“Incredible.” Booker praised, before turning to Snow Palace. “No. That’s all I had hidden in my sleeves.” Booker admitted. And then, glancing across at Snow Blossom and meeting her eye, he added, “But you have to admit. It’s a good trick.”
She snorted. “If you’re looking for applause, you’ve already gotten treasure after treasure from us…”
Including you.
Securing an alliance with Valley Rain must have meant a lot. And not trying to break the marriage contract shows real commitment to the good of the valley – Rain was dispossessed, crippled, but still a tenuous connection to the valley’s defense against the curse.
Leaving that door open in any way speaks of a willingness to put the valley first.
He rose, asking, “May I speak to you alone?”
“Let me show you the family treasury.” She said. Her voice was strangely cold.
Together they stepped out of the tent and walked through the Snow Tribe compound. Booker was acutely aware of how many listening ears surrounded him. Snow Blossom led him towards a well-guarded tent with long talisman banners hanging by the door, promising to inflict a deadly curse on anyone who entered without permission. Booker knew enough to say they were real. Especially the one curse that promised to make any thieves defecate their own internal organs.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
They brushed through the hanging talismans – without any unfortunate incidents.
Inside the tent were numerous swords, hand mirrors, brushes, and other treasures placed on standing racks. Their make was rustic and striking. Fang-swords and feather fans. Things made from the wilds. But the most important treasures stood on plinths near the center. Snow Blossom directed him towards one of these supreme treasures: a round shield of polished brass with peacock feathers painted on the surface, an ornamented steel medallion in the shape of an eye placed at the rounded peak of each feather. “This is my family’s treasure pavilion.” Snow Blossom said, sounding dismissively casual. “And the Nine-Eyed Peacock Shield.”
“You don’t sound happy.”
“Why wouldn’t I be happy?” But her eyes directed him to gaze back over his own shoulder, at the guards listening in. The message was clear: not here. “This treasure represents the glory of our tribe. It was given as part of an exchange of gifts between my grandmother and the cultivator Valley Rain…”
“Valley Rain made this?” He asked.
“No. We made this. It took several years to complete, and by that time, Valley Rain had passed on from this world in the defense of the valley.” She explained in a voice that should have been calm, but in which Booker could still feel the undertone of irritation. “Valley Rain’s gift was the Four-Directions Beast Ruling Tattoo, which was originally guarded as a secret of the Cloudforest Tribe. In coming to power, Valley Rain sheltered the Cloudforest’s descendants, but gave out portions of their legacy to tribes that could better protect them.”
Glancing back, Booker considered the guards. By now, the news of him being allowed into the holy ground was dispersed far and wide…
So that’s how Valley Rain won the Lao-Hain over. He gave away the Cloudforest legacy on the condition that nobody hold it against their descendants.
No wonder he’s so respected – he paid off half the valley.
I guess Sun Pan and Snow Palace see my contribution of the mental techniques as being exactly Valley Rain’s style. A lavish gift to establish relations.
I wonder… did other tribes want him to offer them a grandchild in marriage? As far as I know, River Song was never promised, but if he was that generous…
“Can you tell me about the holy ground?” He asked. “I don’t quite understand the meaning of this tattoo.”
“The holy ground is a place that exists as its own realm. This realm possesses a lifeforce, the Grand Spirit, which gives life to countless talisman-beasts. When slain, these beasts can be captured to become powerful talismans. We can only enter the holy ground once in our lives, and a great price must be paid to open the doors to the most talented forty warriors among the Lao-Hain, so naturally we compete to bring back the most valuable talismans.” Her tone was bored, clinical.
“Ah.” Booker said. “And the tattoo allows for a permanent binding.”
“You grasp it ably.” She said, and turned away, walking out of the treasure pavilion and through the Snow Tribe encampment.
Booker waited until nobody would overhear and said, “I’m sorry, I know this is abrupt but… There’s no way I can get married. I know this could be taken as an insult, but I promise you, it’s not meant as one. You deserve someone who would move the heavens and the earth for you, not someone who’s marrying you because of a piece of paper signed before they could walk.”
It’s… Well, it’s just honesty. With her and myself. I can’t let myself walk into this because I was too half-hearted to refuse.
“And?” Snow Blossom said coldly. “All I hear is what you want. You idiot…” Her ruby lips drew back as she hissed. “This has nothing to do with that. Your present position is conditional on my family, and you risk the entire valley by neglecting your duty.”
“I think I have the elder’s vote of confidence to enter the holy ground with or without you now.” Booker answered. “But that’s not the point. Regardless of the profit, I’m not going to string you along.”
“How comforting. Truly, you hold my feelings so delicately, like you’re nursing a wounded bird.” Her nose divoted with a snort, and she flicked a hand. “What, are you afraid my heart would be broken? By you? Ridiculous. No, what we have has always been a mockery of a marriage, but the alliance between our people is real and important. I need your commitment to that alliance, not you wavering over what’s nice and how people feel.”
“If that’s the condition and the nature of our marriage, then we both understand each other. I want to do right by the people of the valley. All of them, including you.” Booker said, holding back more.
“Do not speak of this until the demon is sealed.” Snow Blossom said. “Most of all, do not speak of it to my grandmother.”
Booker looked down, and then, helpless to stop himself from pressing the point, asked, “You didn’t seem too happy showing off your family’s treasures.”
“What could I be unhappy about? My family is rich.” Snow Blossom snapped.
“Can you speak honestly? I prefer you throwing insults to you as a stone wall.” Booker snapped back.
She paused, and her mouth twitched slightly, before she said, “You really don’t understand… Your grandfather was deeply ostracized because of the circumstances of his birth. When the Lao-Hain bloodline lost the secrets of the Cloudforest Tribe, your grandfather favored us of the Snow Tribe because we alone promised him a marriage, granting him legitimacy. Does that explain everything to you?”
So in short… Showing me the treasure is her grandmother’s way of bribing me to accept the marriage. Flaunting their wealth because she thinks I might be planning to renegotiate my position. “I think it does.”
What a convoluted world Snow Blossom has to live in.
She sighed. “I will speak honestly with you once we are in the holy ground. That much I can do, but you must be honest with me as well. This alliance –” He looked away for a moment, admiring the talisman banners that fluttered at the edge of the Silk Tribe’s camp. She snatched up his hand, clutching it hard in a silk glove. “This alliance is to protect the valley. I care about nothing more.”
He looked her in the eyes. “Snow Blossom, I understand what you think of me. But I hope to surprise you.”
— — —
The next gift was their robes. Exquisitely made from white fur and leather that had been etched with tooled engravings, they were reinforced by azure blue scales, creating a beautiful two-colored robe. They could not have been more different from the ornamental robes worn in the Sect: heavy, sturdy, meant for combat.
They had also been offered a better tent, and Booker used Froggie to heat the tub before washing himself clean and donning his new attire. After days of wandering through the mountainside growing increasingly ragged, it felt good to don clean soft fur and leather against his freshly-bathed skin.
Xan and Fen were next in line. Xan had opted for one without sleeves, showing his heavy arms with a band of iron around each bicep. Fen fussed longer before exiting the screen, tying on his Sect ornaments and baubles to the belt, ending in something that was a fusion of Sect and Lao-Hain.
By the time they’d finished cleaning themselves up – Booker shaving idly with his alchemist’s knife, scraping away the hair that had built on his chin – a servant had arrived to take them to Sun Xian for the last portion of their prizes.
Sun Xian was waiting in his tribe’s treasure pavilion. Compared to the Snow Tribe’s… no, there really was no comparison. In wealth the Sun Tribe simply dominated. Numerous chests carved with dragons and banded with bronze were stacked to a man’s height, the scent of herbs emanating from within. Polished metal racks held weapons, and not only ones made out of beast fangs and claws, but gleaming metal swords and tasseled heavy-headed glaives with golden dragons curled around the base of the blade. Armors sat on mannequins, resplendent with silver and bronze medallions, silk sleeves, and elegant designs. Even more interesting were the numerous amulets, the books of techniques, and the other strange cultivation implements. Sun Xian smiled softly with eminent pride as they looked around, drinking in the amount of wealth on display.
Booker noticed the guards, in particular. They weren’t human. There was nothing under the helmets in the ways of eyes, nose, or mouth. Only concavities and lumps that gestured at the shape of a human face, written on skin and flesh that was a faint blue color.
Are these really… artificial people?
“Dao soldiers.” Sun Xian said, stepping in behind him. He was clearly paying attention to what caught their eyes. As the quietest of the elders, Booker had the least of a read on the younger Sun. “Grown from fruits taken from a faraway land. We once had hundreds of them guarding the Lao-Hain’s lands, faithful and tireless. But alas. Those glory days ended…”
“It’s impossible to know the roots of the valley without knowing the roots of the Lao-Hain.” Booker praised. It was only true. “If you don’t mind me asking… how did the Lao-Hain come to be?”
Sun Xian seemed pleased by the question. “We were migrants once. Driven from our homes by a great calamity. We came from another continent, across a bridge of ice that was a world unto itself. Mountainous glaciers, trees born of frost bearing ice fruits, and terrifying storms. We were protected by our first generation of great cultivators, who would go on to form the Mist Cauldron Sect. The heritage of the Lao-Hain was born when cultivators sent from the Sect to settle new lands took command of the valley, merging their bloodlines with the native. We learned their talisman-craft and spirit worship to build our own tradition of cultivation.” It was clear he enjoyed talking about this, and as he spoke he gestured to artifacts that illustrated his story:
The first was a fragment of blue stone cauldron, mutilated runes carved into outer curve in the shape of a face, now cut in half. “This cauldron fragment belonged to a mist-forging cauldron, one of the Sect’s common treasures. It could condense cultivation material purely from the breath of the valley. At the time of the Mist Cauldron Sect, this entire valley was bathed in energies from their spiritual gathering arrays, which took the form of thick rolling mists. Simply living in the shadow of the Sect was a benefit.”
Booker glanced over the artifact, and followed a gesture of Sun Xian’s hand to the next exhibit – a talisman pen placed on a delicate stand. As he looked at the slender brush, he had an immense and vividly clear sense of standing atop a frozen cliff, the sheer face covered in icicles and overlooking a massive frozen waterfall, a ribbon of ice descending towards a deep blue lake below. It was a vision akin to those engraved into talismans by the focusing techniques Booker used…
“Ah, are you able to perceive the spiritual image within?” Sun Xian asked, stepping up to his shoulder.
Booker nodded. “It’s one of the most focused I’ve ever seen.”
“It belonged to the Daoist Icefall, who was the first patriarch of the Cloudforest Tribe. He was the one who brought the Wilderness Portrait from the Mist Cauldron Sect.”
“Wilderness Portrait?”
“Ah, allow me. Perhaps you know that we Lao-Hain worship the totems. But as for what a totem is… They are spiritual emanations from the soul of this world. When this Grand Spirit turns inwards and reflects on the nature of its being, a totem-mark is born, touching on an object, sometimes even a person, in whom the Grand Spirit sees a greater truth reflected. A totem-mark is a spiritual gift that reflects some deep insight, although only with study and practice can we hope to understand the nature of the mark. I personally am a scholar of this pursuit, although only one of meager talents.”
Meager talents, but he’s reached the third stage of cultivation and stands at a level equal to a Sect instructor… Sun Xian could easily have been arrogant, growing up under the shelter of Sun Pan, but he’s a calm and gentle scholar.
In the background, attendants were guiding Fen and Xan through the collection, showing them lesser treasures: mirrors, pearls, pendants, and swords.
“The totem-mark brings totems into existence, by granting intellect to the elements surrounding it. But the Wilderness Portrait is something vastly valuable. It is a gateway to a smaller world, a lesser realm than our own but one possessing its own Grand Spirit. The Portrait’s spirit is fundamentally connected to talisman craft, so naturally the totem-marks it creates bear a trace of that nature…”
“Ah, is this the origin of the talisman-beasts?”
“Very astute. Indeed, the talisman-beasts are totemic manifestations, just as the totemic manifestations of our world are elementals.” Sun Xian stroked his beard. “One can only enter the world of the Wilderness Portrait once, so we rely on our young warriors to bring back talismans made by capturing the talisman-beasts. Rarely, we can even find a source, a totem-marked relic. Each one is a vast treasure that advances our understanding of the art.”
Incredible. Another realm where the fundamental thoughts of the world spirit are written in talisman-marks. No wonder they call it a holy ground…
Would it be too much to hope it’s connected to the talisman-book? Perhaps that’s where the Cloudforest found the amulet, or the knowledge to create it.
“Elder, if it’s not too much to ask…” He bowed his head. “I’d appreciate a talisman pen in place of a weapon. I think it’s more my style.”
Sun Xian smiled. “Of course. Where you’re going, it will serve you well.” He departed and returned shortly carrying a redwood case engraved with a coiling dragon among gold-foil clouds. Unclasping the lid, he revealed a small black pen with a silver band under the brush-head.
Booker took it in his hand, admiring the weightless balance. There was a sense of clean emptiness within, a spiritual intention that was blank and ready to be molded.
“Thank you.”
Sun Xian hesitated for a moment, and a shadow crossed his face, forcing a sigh out. "You are a polite and kind young man. I wish you well in the holy ground, but I will warn you, there is an evil in these lands. It follows us in waking and in sleep. I fear it will be waiting for our brave sons and daughters in the holy ground as well."
"Ah, the curse..." Booker grimaced under his mask. Could it really follow them to another world? His experiences in the Heavenseed Sect said that was likely. "Nothing good comes of cutting weeds and leaving the roots. I wish to understand the basis of this enemy."
Sun Xian paused, and then stepped away, gesturing for Booker to follow. They arrived in front of a wooden coffin. Laden with talisman-marks, holy and righteous-hearted ones that Booker knew from his experience with Valley Rain's amulet. These were sealing talismans.
But there was still something about the coffin that left Booker with an immediate sense of nausea, growing stronger the more he examined it. There was simply something hateful about the intent within, which still echoed loud and clear, like an undying scream.
"Within this coffin is an evil thing. We keep it not for any glory or value, but because it must be remembered." Sun Xian's voice was dark, and he stroked his thin white goatee in what Booker had marked as a nervous tic. "Within this coffin is a curse that was once human. Long ago, the people of the valley before the Lao-Hain performed a vile ritual, breaking and bending the bones of their criminals into an obscene shape around a wooden stake. They prolonged the victim's life by etching tattoos into the flesh. Even when death was begged for, and prayers cried to the heavens above, the suffering would not end for these poor souls. They were buried alive, and even then, they would suffer below for lightless years before finally expiring..."
"Why?" It wasn't a rational question. It simply rose to his lips on a wave of disgust and anger.
"I don't think there is a reason." Sun Xian said simply. "There was some profit in it for the tormentors, yes. The victims served as a crude array to gather the breath of cultivation. But profit alone does not drive a hand to this level of depravity. Why? I think, and fear, it was simply because they wanted to..."
He shook his head. "In the end, they overstepped. A child was born with an evil soul artifact. It granted great abilities, and foolishly, the youth soon revealed them."
Booker felt a cold certainty in his heart. This is why I can never reveal the book. "So they tortured them..."
"So they tortured them." Sun Xian agreed. "And when they had finished extracting what they could, they condemned her to a living grave. But they had failed to understand what a force they had offended. The soul artifact allowed her a final vengeance. Merging the hatreds that poisoned the valley's ground from the countless victims subjected to this fate, she converted her own blood and flesh into a furnace, and used the artifact to birth a new life from her shattered soul. The curse was born in a cold grave to a hateful mother, who passed on the soul treasure with her final breath, bidding it to climb forth in her body and author a thousand plagues upon the valley. It was a thing of orphaned hatred, and it created countless poisons."
"So..." Booker sighed, feeling unsettled. For a moment it was impossible not to think of the tortured pain of the entombed, crying out against the cold soil of a still-living grave. "How do we lay such a thing to rest? I know the guardians of the valley keep it sealed in hopes it will someday wither, but… if these people were tormented, surely there’s a way to make amends. To make things right.”
Sun Xian shook his head. "It cannot be undone, only starved and outlasted. Think of the hatred, the pain of those condemned. Think of how their lives ended. How does one quench that hatred? To fully accept the magnitude of the crime, is to accept that it cannot be atoned for. Looking at the past with clear eyes is not always pleasant.”
Booker looked down, turning the pen over in his hands. I refuse to accept that. I too have a great and terrible treasure, one I’ll wager is stronger. If cultivation can do anything but kill and maim, surely, it can do this.
I have to find a way to destroy that curse at the roots.
“Elders.” A messenger arrived at the front of the tent. “The first party to go off seeking the sacred deer is preparing to leave.”
“Ah,” Sun Xian smiled. “The present calls us away from the past. Good luck.”
He swept out the tent, and Booker joined the messenger, Xan and Fen in heading for the hunting party.
The book quietly flipped open.
Quest: Pillar of the Community
Goal: Earn the respect of 3 (2/3) elders among the Lao-Hain tribe.
Reward: Spirit Refining Pill.