“The Rikidan empire was formed in the first millennium of Roguth’karrs wrath” Tantra recites, “originally it was a collection of city states, all ben-efiting from mutual trade deals but having ex-clu-sive militaries. This changed once the dead began to rise from the ground and rav-ag-ed the world. Forthigal Rikid, leader of Goroka City, led a united coalition to fight a va-li-ant defence. Eventually once the dust was settled, after thousands of years, the borders between City States became non-existent, and so became the central territories of Rikidan, forever may it reign.”
“Wonderful,” a woman claps, “all off the top of your head? Fabulous! At this rate you’ll surpass me in historical knowledge, little jewel.” She says as pinches Tantra's cheek and pulls.
“Aunt Temiiii, don’t do that! It hurts.”
Aunt Temi scoffs, “you should stop being so cute then, maybe get into a few street fights and break that pretty nose of yours?”
“No!” Tantra covers her nose, “Tantra will stay pretty forever and ever!”
-
Tantra stares at the mirror, there’s a large scar on her throat, from one end to the other, a constant reminder of her mortality. There are others, the one deep into her right shoulder is actually bigger than the one on her throat, but her robes do a good job of covering it up. There’s one on her chest, going from lower right rib to top left rib. Then there’s the one on her back. It's hard to see using the mirror but she’s pretty sure it’s mostly straight, leaning more towards her right.
She is, most certainly, never going to be a proper lady with scars like these.
She can still be a merchant though, who knows, maybe it’ll add to the aesthetic.
She takes a deep breath, “Rolan Rode a Rowdy Reindeer down to Rikidan proper”
She can hear it then, a hint of her old voice peaking through. It’s still hoarse and scratchy, but not as much as before.
She smiles wide into the mirror.
-
“I’m Pinia Farson. It's a pleasure to meet you!” Says a girl who is perhaps just on the cusp of reaching the double digits for age. Her robe is in pristine condition, a deep purple with green trim and a green sash to hold it all at the waist. She has short black hair, much like Tantra’s, but her eyes are a vibrant ruby.
“Pinia,” Ranya says, like she’s tasting the name and finds it wanting.
“Farson,” Sola says with derision.
Pinia eyes them awkwardly.
“Apologies, honored junior,” Tantra says, “these two are simply being idiots, please do not mind them.”
“Ranya is not an idiot!” Ranya says.
“Then show some courtesy and welcome her into our home.” Tantra hisses, before turning back to Pinia. “Apologies, honored junior, I have yet to introduce myself, I am Tantra Sol.”
Pinia bows, hastily trying to match her formal demeanour, “greetings?”
“Don’t bother,” Sola says, “Tantra’s the only one in the sect who actually cares about formalities.”
“Kisrin does as well,” Tantra replies.
“Only because he wants to get under your robes.”
Tantra blushes, “honourable senior!” She exclaims, “do not joke about such things, Kisrin is just a friend.”
“Much to his disappointment.”
Tantra’s expression hardens, “you want to be like that? Fine, do not forget that you made me do this.”
Tantra boosts her legs to the maximum they can handle, jumping from her seat and dashing to Sola, the girl blinks in surprise, but it’s too late. Tantra is upon her tickling her sides like a vulture feasting on a fresh kill. Sola howls and hollars, her cries for mercy ignored as Ranya sends a solemn prayer to the gods that her journey through the cycle might be one without troubles. Pinia looks confused but mostly amused, barely able to stifle a few chuckles of her own.
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Eventually, once Tantra has deemed the girl's punishment suitable, she stops her assault on the nervous system and gets back up. She brushes herself off professionally, displaying a prim and proper countenance as she returns to her seat like a proper lady.
Sola pants hard as she gets up, frazzled and frankly affronted.
“You had to do that in front of the new kid?” Sola asks.
Tantra nods with gravitas, “know to watch your words next time if you don’t want to be made a fool.”
“I miss when you had respect.” Sola grumbles.
“I still do Sola, but only for those who have earned it.”
Sola rolls her eyes, “alright, let's get the introductions over with, then we’ll…” she pauses, looking distant for a moment, “then we’ll show you to your room.”
-
Pinia is so excited!
She’s actually here, actually amongst cultivators. By the hells she’s considered a cultivator! All her dreams wrapped in a neat bow, papa said not to get her hopes up when the recruiters came, and indeed most of them passed her over. Saying some rather mean things while they were at it, but the Serpent's Fang took her! A strange man whose skin is whiter than white looked into her soul and found her worthy! Despite her…uh…lackluster performance in the selection tournament. No one tried to fight for her to join their sect, which hurts a bit, but does it really matter?
She’s here!
As she opens the door to her new room with exuberant joy, she sees something unexpected.
“Is that a duck?”
The duck honks at her.
-
Kisrin gets in his stance and thrusts his new spear with all the force he can manage. It cuts through air like a heated knife might cut through butter. The spear is a simple weapon, sure, but it’s also the best weapon. At least until they can start performing some rather superhuman feats, but even then it’s still the best among equals, in his humble opinion. Everyone just wants to get something cool that’ll follow them in the tales bards surely will sing once they go on their adventures.
If they cared at all for practicality they’d all choose the spear.
He was almost disappointed when he saw Tantra with a kanabō, but after hearing her explanation, he can hardly blame her.
Personal instruction from an assistant?
Even he might change weapons if offered something like that.
-
Yorin skips through the field with his book under his arm.
He’s done! He's finally, finally, done. No more studying for him, no sir please and thank you, from now on it's a straight path to immortality and all its wonders. He almost feels bad for how happy he is about that. Tantra put a lot of time into making sure he can read and understand basic arithmetic. Even taught some biology, but only for the main areas the big meridians affect.
Which was actually pretty interesting but he doesn’t want to think about that right now.
He knocks on the door to his friend's house.
Tantra opens the door and gives him a raised brow.
He points at the book settled in his arm.
She gives a soft smile and ushers him in.
-
Meditation isn’t easy for someone like her, she needs action, she needs excitement, and meditation is just breathing with your eyes closed doing nothing. Except gathering Qi, which is why Etra even bothers. Her core's gotten too big, it takes a full week to fill now rather than just a few hours, meaning she has to start adapting to regular bouts of meditation to fill up with the more lackluster Qi radiating from the world.
Filtering out their concepts is a pain in the ass, but it won’t fit otherwise.
She lets out a frustrated groan as she loses more three quarters of the Qi before she can integrate it into her core.
She fucking hates gathering.
-
Jorin looks at his soul, it is a large thing of rugged edges under a calcified shell. At its center is the sound of beating, as soft soul-flesh moves to its tune. His soul is only half formed, not yet ready for integration.
That’s the price for connection to one of the greater dao’s, but that’s fine, the benefits outweigh the sacrifice. He runs a metaphorical finger across the calcified shell, limbs don’t exist here, but he can shape his will into the concept of a finger and get the same result. It feels like it’s burning, each beat adding to the heat as it radiates into the cosmos of nothing.
He smiles, makes a chisel out of Qi, and chips off a piece.
-
Tantra takes a deep breath.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
She grabs a small thread from her core, and marvels at how easy it is to move.
She boosts her chest. No pain.
She boosts her arms. No pain.
She boosts her back. No pain.
She goes over every muscle and bone, one by one boosting all of them and can barely contain her glee when she finds that it does not hurt. It's exhausting, sure, but there’s no pain.
She lets out an ecstatic shout of joy.