The icon of the dragon seared itself into Xiao Fan's sight like a vision of some divine being, the bronze's glow now quite the stain upon her sight. It was breathtaking, in some way... seeing such a great and terrible thing up close, even if it was only a metal effigy - and even then, it was a flat image. Regardless, the shockwave of the impact alone had been enough to wipe the smile from Xiao Fan's face; seeing this glowing iconography white-hot and desperately near was awe-inspiring.
Her jaw dropped as she regarded the icon, steadying herself on the third roof, no longer quite so eager to approach the fourth. What if another bolt of lightning hit the icon? She would be thrown to the ground, so many stories below... Maybe stories was an exaggeration, she was only about two and a half stories up, but still. She knew her body would survive such an impact, and doubtlessly, so would her qi. But what a mess it would make, right? And more than this... She felt a pale sort of chill, like the teasing finger of winter, roll itself across her arms and up her spine.
What if she got struck by lightning instead? What if she was absolutely devastated, and her body torn asunder and cast into pieces, as such things doubtlessly did? Even if her body was fine, she barely dared consider what may happen to her qi - her soul. Lightning was just as much a force of nature as it was the gods' way of releasing energy and venting their wrath; it was a punishment to be struck.
Would such a punishment result in the sundering of her internal forces as well as her physical vessel? That would have been too much, far too much to imagine at all, much less risk. There was still so very much she needed to do... and now, if she was going to be a member of a martial sect? She had been given a sample taste of being a woman of justice and honor - it had tasted too good to willingly give up, at least for now. And even if it hadn't, she needed to take down a tyrant.
Xiao Fan decided to call out, then, voice beginning with a tentative break and stutter but growing more confident as she considered how she might sound to anyone hearing her. "H-Hao Ning...! Hao Ning, if you're out here, come on out! I've won your little game and found you up here; it's dangerous, so we should climb back down!" Xiao Fan listened patiently for a reply, waiting while the figurative incense burned all the way down to the nub. Finally, just as she was going to begin back down the grand hall, she heard a voice from below.
"Xiao Fan! Simei, simei, I'm down here! I got knocked down from my hiding spot by that big blast of lightning; here, good job, you win! You did such a good job! Now get down from there!" The praise in her words was sorely outshone by the urgency in her tone and voice, though that was to be expected. Xiao Fan was grateful to both have found her sifu, and be relieved of their unofficial game.
Looking down at the ground, Hao Ning was folded in on herself like she was in great pain; her face was wracked with pain, but she still tried to fit a fake-looking smile upon her lips. It wasn't nearly so wide as it would have been if it was genuine - it was well within human parameters at the moment, and that didn't seem quite right. Xiao Fan resolved to check out what was wrong as soon as possible, scrambling her way down eave after eave in a hasty descent. The rain-slick shingles helped in this regard, though they also threatened a fall every few steps.
As she slip-climbed down from the first roof to the ground, the thunder so far above rumbled like the roar of a distant, furious beast. Flashes within the cloud cover revealed ever more of those great ebon things, the cumulonimbus congregation which blocked the moon as persistently as blood scabbing a wound. As her bare feet touched the earth, fresh mud pushing up between her toes, Hao Ning rushed to her. The smaller of the two threw herself bodily at Xiao Fan - not out of aggression, but out of desperate, insecure need.
Ghostly arms wrapped themselves about Xiao Fan's torso; a pair of spectral legs went tightly about Xiao Fan's right leg. Hao Ning put her face into her simei's torso, somewhere partially on her chest and her midsection. Xiao Fan was taken aback at first, for sure. She staggered a few paces towards the grand hall at she was tackle hugged by her mystical mentor, but after surmounting an initial sense of apprehension, she found it within herself to quickly provide reassurance. Hao Ning was hugged, tightly.
Hao Ning began to wail, though not nearly such a howl as she had earlier performed: the foundations of the hall and surrounding structures remained right where they had been built, and no lanterns nor furniture rattled or shook. It struck Xiao Fan as starkly different from the Hao Ning she was used to - not that the diminutive damsel was particularly stoic at any point, but because the older junior sister had never witnessed her sect-senior in such a weak state. There was a distinct sort of unease it brought, she thought.
Hao Ning found the words somewhere inside her throat after a few seconds of proper sobbing and warbling, raising her face regard her junior sister with tear-filled eyes. "Xiao Faa-aa-aan! I was so scared! I...! I thought I was going to... I thought I would never see you or my big brother again! I thought that was it for me - that I'd be wiped away! I'm s-s-so relieved to not be d-double dead!"
Double dead? Xiao Fan had never heard any priests describe it that way... frankly, Hao Ning may have been better off if she did get blasted out of this plane, so that she could ascend to a higher state. Or something like that? Xiao Fan had never really fully understood what the traveling priests said about the states of existence... just that if you died, you went off to be judged for your sins and be served penance for them. Reasonable enough, she had always figured. She didn't want to see Hao Ning get punished for any potential sins, though...
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Xiao Fan brought her right palm up to Hao Ning's head, ever so gently beginning to pat her on the peak of her skull. The patting became gentle petting and stroking, and that turned to good natured tousling of the wailing wight's hair. For her own part, Hao Ning was a good sport about calming down - as good of a sport as a person could be about that sort of thing, at least. Her tears had turned from a ravaging rainfall to a dismal drizzle, and though they stopped and sunk in as though soaked by Xiao Fan's cheongsam, no true damp touches the fabric.
Eventually, after moments more of patting and petting and sweet, gentle 'shoosh'-ing, Hao Ning had stilled herself down to a mere, pathetic whimper. She still clung like a swollen tick to Xiao Fan's body, split halfway across the taller woman's waistline, but that was fine. Xiao Fan was more than strong enough to keep the both of them upright, even while distracted. She began to walk towards the door back into the hall, putting her right arm around Hao Ning to give her a gentle squeeze of a hug.
Hao Ning whined softly, but did adjust herself just a little so that she might be less of a burden to walk with. It certainly worked; the weight hadn't changed, but it had shifted, and now Xiao Fan may as well just be striding about with leg weights on. The rice farmer turned martial mistress cleared her throat; she realized that she hadn't said a damn thing to Hao Ning since the latter woman had poured out her thoughts and emotions for Xiao Fan to assess. Shame wasn't what she felt in that moment - she was too cold right now to feel shame, not really - but she did regret not saying this sooner. It would have been better for the both of them, if only that much so.
"Hao Ning, I'm really sorry to hear how scared you were. I can't even imagine a situation like that; both for you, or for me. Here, here... Let's forget about that for now, okay? I've got some training I'd love to get at, and I'd like it if you'd stay here with me while I do. Does that work for you, Hao Ning?" Hao Ning nodded then, looking up towards Xiao Fan with timid, wobbling eyes, but the tears had yet to begin to fall anew. Xiao Fan smiled down at her; despite Hao Ning's wordlessness, her nod had been enough. Xiao fan nodded in return.
"Good. Here, let's go... hmm. I don't really know, actually, uhh... Is there a place for a bath? The hot kind, not the sort where I hop into a cold tub for ten minutes, rushing to get myself clean, haha." The request was innocuous; if anything, it was innocent, and purely for Hao Ning's benefit. A good, warm bath always helped people calm - and while Hao Ning probably couldn't feel the waters of the bath, she could certainly feel Xiao Fan, so maybe they could just hold hands while the rice farmer soaked.
In truth, though, there was more to the request than one may initially think. There was something Xiao Fan wanted to try... in a day full of play-turned-practice, she had an idea of her own to surpass Zhichao Tingfeng and Hao Ning's own machinations. Hao Ning nodded timidly, gesturing towards one of the few buildings in the sect that Xiao Fan had yet to actually explore.
"Oh, good. Here. Don't worry about walking; you're all broken up, let me keep you safe, sifu." There was a temptation to refer to her by literal age, not official seniority, but she bit it back; mocking her seemed the worst decision at the moment, even if both women would know it was only in jest. Xiao Fan set off, then, bare feet squelching in the mud while the storm raged higher and higher above. Another bolt of lightning struck the icon atop the grand hall - and there was a sound as the thunder rolled and the bronze structure rattled in its fastenings.
The sound of it reminded Xiao Fan, in some veiled, through-a-dream sort of way, of what she imagined a real dragon would sound like.
-
The bathing house was small. Comfortably small, sure, but still small. There were two big stone constructions carved out of the ground, a risen lip formed of cobbled rocks giving them a caldera-esque appearance. A big metal pot with leather-wrapped handles sat atop some masonry to form a trio of small protrusions from the floor, a stack of wood sitting beneath it. More wood was in the corner of the room; beside the wood, a long, plain wooden shelf was stacked with soft blue bathrobes.
Xiao Fan had already set to work on the bath, letting Hao Ning sit on her shoulders as she took the metal pot to draw water from the sect's pond. When she returned, struggling to hold the full weight of the pot despite herself, it was set to boil posthaste. The flame took more time to start than usual, she had to admit - maybe it was because Hao Ning was watching? Normally, that sort of thing wouldn't have bothered her... but now, it seemed to be quite the bane for her.
The ghostly girlthing happily hopped in to help, pointing her finger out like she was trying to prod a beetle crawling on the wood and kindling mountain beneath the pot. Suddenly, a flame licked from the tip of her digit and caught itself upon the kindling - and in moments, the entirety of it was alight. She sat back on her butt and giggled, looking up at the astonished, somewhat exasperated Xiao Fan.
The local rice farmer turned martial warrior opened her mouth to say something... but nothing really came to her, nor came to mind. It seemed that Hao Ning would win this one, and there wasn't anything Xiao Fan could do about it. As the water started to heat, the metal pot and flames edging them towards a simmer and boil, Hao Ning and Xiao Fan were content to just sit and enjoy one another's company. Xiao fan opened her mouth to say something - a nothing-comment about how she liked Hao Ning's hair buns, or something.
She was cut off by a dread-inspiring roar from a distant sky, and the sound of the icon being struck again. The foundations shook with rage.