It was said in the journals of some of her ancestors that it was inevitable for the mind to feel hollow in the wake of a battle’s burning. To feel an emptiness where once the light of the sun had burned. For Gu Xiulan, this could not be more untrue. The fading of her fire that came with the battle's end left her feeling jittery and anxious, an electric charge that would not leave her nerves, even now after the medic’s ministrations, after the debriefing, and speaking with her company and attending to her horse.

But it was true that the pain of her wounds and exertions surged back with a vengeance. The numbness that came after channeling qi through her burned arm contrasted with the terrible ache of strained muscles and recently cracked bones in her other. She was lucky that they had only been hairline fractures sealed and repaired with a mere fortifying tincture rather than anything that needed set. Her shoulder ached badly where it had been dislodged from its socket. At least her lightning marked face and burning Gu blood protected her from the trials of lower born soldiers, who needed salves on their heat and sunburned skin and who would be dealing with the awful itching for many nights to come.

…And even they were luckier than those who fell, whose bodies were now on the pyre’s returning to the air as smoke and dust. Seeing those had put a limit on how much she could bring herself to swagger. She had won so much glory, done her house and family proud. She could not and did not regret that.

Hmph, if only every commander had her puissance and care, then there would be no need for such irritating thoughts.

Gu Xiulan paused for a moment outside the tent flap of fathers command pavilion. Letting the cold night wind brush her face as she observed the camp. Even now with the sun's descent, it was a hive of shouts and activity. The scent of purifying salts drifted from the great billowing columns of gray smoke that rose from the fire pits outside of the camp, mingling with the more pleasant incense of the pyres.

No one was quailing, she did not see or scent fear, only the grim determination of facing a harsh duty. Father truly was a superlative general, was he not?

She only hoped she could continue to live up to that.

Sweeping the cloth flap aside, she stepped into the command tent, her head held high.

Inside were her fathers gathered commanders. Like her, their masked helms were off, showing many heads streaked with gray hairs and faces lined by wrinkles. Some appeared youthful among them, though their power belied that.

But regardless of the differences, each and every one had the sharp features and dark hair of the Gu. Their clan was old and strong, composed of many, many families more than enough to fill the needs of her father’s high command with worthy cultivators. She saw Major Yu there among them, her temporary commander, the annoying, fish eyed man gave her a small nod.

Hmph, some acknowledgement at least. “My daughter, are you well?” Her father, standing at the head of the table, asked. Like them he wore the bulk of his armor, but here Father let his qi flow with less restraint, tongues of fire licked at his brow, and sparks crackled at the corners of his eyes.

She brought her fists together in front of her and bowed. “My wounds are tended to, Father. I am told I will be in my best condition again by the week’s end.”

Father ran armored fingers through his beard once, then nodded gesturing for her to come stand beside him. She looked back at the gathered officers who glanced her way with pride. No more disdain for the unblooded girl at least, she would take that victory. Taking up a place a few steps behind and to Father’s right, she looked down at the table that lay between the standing commanders, on it was pinned a detailed map of the region, numerous chits of painted wood were laid across it. Red and gold for their forces, black and green for the sightings of the dead. Other colors representing the border posts of their neighboring clans.

There was… a great deal of green and black.

“Major Yu, the disposition of our forces?” Father asked, folding his arms behind his back.

“Casualties remain light, and our medical supply means that the majority will be fighting fit within two weeks. Our primary supply line to Phoenix Home remains clear. Three of the regional bases are cut off however, and the warding locations they support are out of contact. If left for too long the Ashwalkers will surely destroy them, degrading our Oasis network,” the annoyingly placid man said crisply, without his usual lethargy. “There are forces here, here and here which are out of communication.”

She watched him tap three locations on the map, a younger solider at his side putting out crimson chits in the middle of seas of black.

“I see, Major Ke, responses from our neighbors?”

“Viscounts Chen and Huang indicate greater forces of the dead as well, though not so significant as this,” said another commander, one of those who seemed youthful, his beautiful androgynous features set in a frown. “Viscount Yang is facing similar trouble in the northeast.”

Father frowned. “And the Han?”

He sounded unhappy speaking the name. Gu Xiulan hunched her shoulders.

“Have indicated that they will have prepared the fifth battalion of the third field army under Han Shang at the end of the month,” Gu Ke replied crisply.

Her father let out a breath, filling the air with drifting sparks.

“However…”

Father pinned the younger man with a look.

“However, through my personal channels, it must be said that Patriarch Han and the Marquis, along with the Gold Tiger, have all been called east… And Grandfather Fortress has deviated from his route.”

Murmurs broke out, filling the tent. Father raises his hand sharply, cutting off the noise. “Understood, thank you Gu Ke.”

“Lord Gu, what may we-”

“We may make nothing of this, yet,” Father said, cutting off the other officer who had spoke. “Speculation will do us no good. Some great matter has emerged. Is it related? Probable, but the Guo are not so irresponsible, and… neither are the Han. I expect Han Shang will arrive with an explanation, if a messenger from Duke Guo does not arrive first. Right now, we must see to this.”

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He gestured at the map. “Yu, Jing, Gang, Haoyu. Prepare for me plans by which we might restore contact and regain our depots most effectively. Assume our enemy may be able to generate peer cultivation. Ke, get in contact with Pheonixhome. Command the full first army be raised and the cities defenses activated. Send messengers to the settlements as well, and raise their detachments.”

Gu Xiulan stood silent as Father gave out orders with rapid fire efficiency, quelling immediately the confusion and dread that Gu Ke’s report had brought to the command tent. His presence and words brooking no complaint.

Could she do the same? Almost certainly not. She still had so very far to go.

Steam curled from the brush in her hand, flames licking at the bristles as she ran it through the dark red mane. She was silent as she observed the camp outside of the stables. The rush of men moving back and forth, the chatter and constant noise washing over her ever here.

“Refeng”

Gu Xiulan raised an eyebrow as the stallion tossed his head, shaking out the smoldering mane she had been brushing. “Oh, so simple as that, no ceremony at all?”

The stallion, Refeng, looked at her without saying a word.

“So you pride yourself on stoic silence then,” Gu Xiulan said, tilting her head.

“Is the fire blossom well?”

Gu Xiulan sighed, setting the longer brush aside for the shorter body brush. Beginning the process of clearing sand, ash, and clinging deathly qi from his coat. She had to admit there was a certain meditative quality to this. Father had been clear that a cavalrymen must care for their own warhorse. Lesser beasts could be left to servants, but the horse one rode into battle was different.

“She is exhausted, but a wildfire always springs back, if even a spark remains,” Gu Xiulan answered. “What changed?”

For the first leg of this journey, her horse had refused to engage with her as more than a beast. He followed her guidance in the saddle, but did not speak.

“Your fire is worthy of carrying. You rage, as your sire does.”

“And you will scythe across sand and stone like your namesake then, like your own sire?” Gu Xiulan asked, amused. The sound of the brush sliding along his coat was soothing, and the shimmering heat of the stall was quite comfortable compared to the nights chill outside.

It was amusing. She had been denied her ‘horse-y’ as a little girl, but here and now, Father had given her a warhorse of his own steeds line. How things changed.

“Yes,” Refeng agreed, stamping a foot in the straw, kicking up a a sharp gust and a shower of sparks.

“Why call me a madwoman then?”

He looked at her, flicked his tail. “Reckless.”

“Is that not what you sought in a rider?”

“I did not understand.”

Gu Xiulan hummed to herself. While Refeng was no foal, she supposed that the horse was not experienced either. Most likely he was similar to herself in maturity. “Was that your first real clash?”

He didn’t answer for a long time. She shook out the brush, and burned away the deathly qi clinging to the bristles.

“...Yes.”

“It was my second,” Gu Xiulan said, thinking back to the incursion on the Sect. The Wall of wood and thorns, that ghoulish assassin. Her friend choosing to stand and take a mortal blow just to give her a solid shot. Her sisters blazing wings, sheltering them as the whole world rattled and threatened to shake apart.

No, she did not think she was reckless at all.

Refeng did not speak again, and neither did she, as she completed his grooming. She brushed her fingers through his mane when she was done and gave a simple nod as she left him to his feed, and returned to the outside of the camp.

The cold desert wind blew, but even out here the fires burned. Under the dome of the starry sky and the pale half moon, the activity in the camp never really stopped. Gu Xiulan observed, eyes wandering to the medical tents, to the mess and the barracks. Her own soldiers would be scattered there, getting ready for the call in the morning. Their casualties were light. No deaths, only some injuries.

The scent of the pyres had left her stomach unsettled all day, but she had begun to move past it. Excellence was, as always, the answer. To do better, to be better, was the solution to one’s ills. She had learned in watching her Father that it was not enough to merely be excellent oneself though. The truly great and talented brought forth the strengths of their subordinates. Perfection might be beyond her, even father, but that was a miserable excuse to cease your striving.

She caught a loud, braying guffaw of a laugh, and her eyebrow twitched. She glanced to her right, toward one of the bonfires, and saw Zheng Nan there, laughing with a gaggle of soldiers. He took a deep drink from a leather skin in his hand nearly deflating the thing before letting out another laugh and passing a flask to the solider who had given it to him.

By the Gods and ancestors did he have to walk about bare to the waist? It was so irritating that he was able to ignore all etiquette like that. Should she retire then? She was not sure she should cultivate with how strained her meridians were, with the lightning crackling in her veins still.

It had been some weeks since she had actually slept. Perhaps a few hours of indulgence would do her health well. She turned toward the officers tents and began to walk.

“Thinkin deep thoughts?”

It was barely two minutes later when that casual voice assaulted her ears. And the sound of footfalls not present a moment before appeared. She refused to so much as twitch in surprise as she tilted her head, looking up and up to give Zheng Nan an unimpressed look.

“Deeper thoughts that you certainly.”

“Probably!” he laughed. “Heard you did real well out there! Congrats.”

She sniffed. “Naturally I was not going to let my Father down.”

“Didn’t think you would. You got the right eyes for it. Prettiest and deadliest jewels in the dunes!”

Spare me,” Gu Xiulan replied dryly. “Are you truly so lax, even now?”

“Lax?” Zheng Nan asked gormlessly. “Dunno what you mean.”

“Its one thing for the soldiers to drink and cavort to stave off thoughts of mortality, but we should be better,” Gu Xiulan said. “Do you not understand how serious this is, or is it merely beneath the notice of the mighty Zheng?”

He hummed, not replying as he chewed on a strip of dried meat. “Yeah, that’s wrong. It’s cause its serious that I’m so cheery you know? I get to live out here. I’m actually doing something. Not just cracking some fools head for petty garbage that’ll spring back up the moment I turn my back.”

“Well, I am glad we are entertaining you,” Gu Xiulan replied, crossing her arms.

Zheng Nan frowned. Really frowned, there was nothing playful about it. “It ain’t like that. I fought too today you know? I just don’t agree with you. Acting all stiff and above it all. Well maybe that reassures folks, I’ve seen weirder, but that ain’t me. When I fight side by side with someone course I want to laugh and drink with ‘em afterward, what does power got to do with that?”

Gu Xiulan let out a breath, she was probably being unfair. The Zheng’s leadership style was certainly as casual as everything else about them. “I do not understand how it can bother you so little. I am glad for my glory, but…”

“Hm, oh, so that’s it,” Zheng Nan said, considering her out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah… yeah Battles and fights are different, my Master was right about that. Course I don’t agree with everything the old coots say about that, but… yeah. Just means we gotta win harder huh?”

“Just win harder,” Gu Xiulan snorted. She hated that the crude statement was not so far from her own thoughts, stripped of any pomp

“Drink?” Zheng Nana asked her, holding out his flask.

She narrowed her eyes as she took it, sniffed at it. The strong spiced scent mde her wrinkle her nose.

“Red Century Plum, still got a bit from home. Don’t take more than a mouthful though! You’ll end up spitting fire. More than usual I mean.”

She rolled her eyes and drank.

To the new day.

And winning harder.