It takes me a second to place him as the boy from my early days in the sect. The same one that had challenged me for my position as an inner disciple. I hadn’t seen much of him since our challenge.

He looks at me without recognition as he raises his hands and sweeps his leg back into a ready stance.

I take a deep breath and focus.

I raise my hand and my feet spread out in preparation for the first moves of the The First Song: Dance Of The Brook.

The announcer calls the fight and both of us move. Fire coats his hands and feet as he appears in front of me, his fist exploding forward.

I sing, my hands catching his. I flow around the punch, my own palm aiming for his chest.

He dodges under the strike, then kicks forward. I dodge the kick by shifting my feet, but the heat of his flames wash over me and I step back.

Another deep breath, then my hands move. I see the depths of the song, the gentle flowing of the brook.

For the first time, I feel like I’m truly dancing with a partner.

Steam fills the pit as fire meets water in clash after clash.

A smile spreads on my face, the dance coming to me naturally as I move around and under every strike.

Bai Long takes a step back and our dance pauses.

I move my hands gently, slowing my dance as our eyes meet.

He twirls his hands and fire gathers around him. A stomp for more flame, another stomp to increase the heat.

I close my eyes as I dance, gathering my own water. I dive deep into the depths of the song. Something much greater approaches me as my qi is stretched to its max with every twirl of my hands.

Even with my eyes closed, I feel as our two dances approach their zenith. My eyes open as we both step forward.

My water flows forward taking the form of a dragon. His fire bursts out with the wings of a phoenix. Our qi clashes, exploding.

I’m thrown back, but as I fly through the air, I’m laughing. My qi rushes through my body, pushing past my tenth meridian blockage.

I get it now. The dance makes sense to me.

I hit the wall of the arena and fall to the floor, still smiling. Something about the dance was so joyous.

I look up and catch the eyes of Bai Long, he smiles at me before his eyes close and he passes out.

The crowd cheers as I push myself to my feet.

***

The three of us walk towards a local restaurant, all of us still wearing our outer disciple robes and masks.

“What was that? It looked close to the sect's martial arts, but was…” Lai Ming trails off.

“Cool? Entrancing? Amazing? I can keep coming up with more.” Xia Jing smiles at the two of us.

“It was a technique gifted to me.” I answer.

“Being a Core Disciple must be nice.” Xia Jing sighs. I don’t correct her on where I got the technique.

“Elder Han has been very interested in you. Perhaps she’ll choose you as a direct disciple.” Lai Ming looks over to Xia Jing as we arrive at the restaurant. It’s a decent sized building that reminds me of the tavern in the capital that I’d met Sun in.

“Maybe if she comes out of closed door cultivation in the next ten years.” Xia Jing sighs.

A little bell rings as we enter the place, and the sole waiter turns to us with a small bow. We’re led past a couple tables with quiet disciples to a table in the corner.

“This is new.” Lai Ming says after we’ve ordered a few simple meals..

“What?” Xia Jing tilts her head.

Lai Ming looks around, “I’ve never sat down here. Usually they guide me up to the second level.”

“Welcome to life as an outer disciple.” Xia Jing says. “Life on the first floor, oh the tragedy.”

Mai Ling flicks Xia Jing on the forehead and I laugh.

The waiter comes back around and gives all three of us our food. We stare in excitement as several different plates of still steaming dumplings are set between us.

The food quickly finds its way to our plates as we grab portions from each platter.

“Watching you makes me want to fight in the martial pavilion.” Lai Ming says between bites, her mask on her forehead.

“Righ’?” Xia Jing says around a mouthful of food. She swallows. “Gets your blood pumping.”

“It’s something else.” I agree. “This last fight I… I saw it and I felt it. The shape of a dao so powerful.”

Both girls nod in understanding.

Lai Ming opens her mouth, but a clatter at the front distracts us.

I’m surprised to see a familiar face.

Core Disciple Fu Lan Fen stands there, the very same girl that had gained me my punishment at the start of the year. The server had dropped a plate of food, and is bowing profusely to the girl who glares with a malice that makes my stomach turn.

This time she is flanked by an older core disciple I don’t recognize, but he gives off an energy that puts him in Mid to Late Foundation Establishment. I can’t see his face, as it is wrapped up in a black cloth, only showing his eyes. A third disciple stands slightly behind them, a boy from my very first days in the sect named Lu Gang. He holds himself with a quiet confidence he hadn’t had when I’d last seen him, and I can tell that he’s around the 8th level of Qi Awakening.

The server continues to bow and apologize, but I can’t hear him from this distance.

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Xia Jing leans over to me, her mask pulled down. “Sister Jia. Isn’t that the disciple who got you in trouble? What’s she doing with Gao Hong and Lu Gang?”

I shrug, not knowing. “Who’s Gao Hong?”

“A murderer.” Lai Ming says, her eyes sharp as a cold radiates from her.

“Sister Ming.” Xia Jing chastises. She pulls the dumplings on the table away from the older disciple. “You’ll freeze them.”

Lai Ming seems to calm from the warning, and turns away from the disciples that had entered. “My appetite is spoiled anyway. You can have the rest.”

“Happily.” Xia Jing smiles and reaches for a dumpling.

My chopsticks are faster as I steal it out from under her and put it in my mouth.

She glares at me, then shakes her head. “Imagine the disappointment of the sect if they found out that the sweet Lin Jia was actually a-”

The movement of qi stops her mid-sentence. We turn around as one to see an outer disciple I don’t recognize held in the air by the black wrappings of Disciple Gao. My fists tighten at the scene, but the outer disciple is just held there as the other disciples ask him a question.

“Why do evil people travel in packs?” Xia Jing mutters.

I turn to look at Lai Ming for her response, but she’s gone.

A second later, a sword of ice cuts through the cloth holding the outer disciple in the air.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Lai Ming asks them in a deeper tone than usual. She has her blue fox mask down, covering her face.

“This is inner sect business.” Disciple Fu steps forward, but the hand of Disciple Gao holds her back.

I stand up and walk over behind Lai Ming. I motion towards the outer disciple, and he quickly gets the message to disappear.

Xia Jing joins the two of us a second later, holding a plate of dumplings. She pops one into her mouth under her own green fox mask, then tilts her head at the three other disciples.

The qi in the room stills and the air halts as a tenseness goes through everyone.

“Outer disciples should mind their own business.” Disciple Gao says.

Xia Jing gives me a look, as if accusing me of bringing her into this situation. For once, I was going to stay out of it and enjoy the food. I didn’t think the outer disciple's life was in danger, or I’d be where Lai Ming is now.

I shrug at Xia Jing and motion towards Lai MIng.

Xia Jing just shakes her head at me.

I frown in annoyance.

“Inner disciples are forbidden from disciplining outer disciples without a master present.” Lai Ming says.

Disciple Gao laughs. “Come on, you don’t believe that anybody actually follows that rule” He frowns, “Who exactly are you? Wait never mind, doesn’t matter. If you’re in Foundation Establishment and still in the outer sect, then you’re a nobody.”

His wrappings move at speed, reaching for all three of us. Ice and stone rise from the ground to meet the wrappings.

“Stop.”

The room freezes.

A martial master walks down from the second floor, his presence that of someone in Core Formation. He’s an old man, so much so that his eyes are covered by his gray eyebrows. His long beard practically reaches his waist.

“All of you. Leave. I was enjoying my food.”

The six of us bow to the older man, but the glares that Lai Ming and Gao Hong share tells me that their dispute isn’t over.

We don’t talk much on the way back, and Lai Ming’s mood is dark. Xia Jing share a glance, wondering at the backstory. Unfortunately, she disappears as soon as we reach the inner sect.

***

The music of the second requiem surrounds me, filling my room and twisting it into the image of a familiar tavern.

Zhu Yan Se stares at the portrait of her lover, her expression hidden by the black veil that covers her face..

I put down my flute, the illusion sustaining itself off of my qi.

“Back so soon?” She asks, her head rising to look at me.

I bow low to her, fist in palm. “Thank you for your teachings. I have learned much.”

She smiles. “I’m glad.” She stands up, setting the portrait on the table. “Tell me, do you believe yourself worthy now?”

“No. I would not yet call myself worthy.” I rise from my bow. “But I am becoming a woman who can call herself worthy, little by little.”

Zhu Yan Se raises her veil to reveal a smile. Her eyes look at me with a surprising amount of warmth. “That is the journey we all must face, young one. I am glad that you have finally taken your first step. I hope that my teachings can help you on that journey, even if by the slightest of margins.”

She waves her hand, and The Twelve Songs Of Water comes out of my ring. It opens up and words write themselves into The Second Song: Flow Of The River. The book flips to the next page and The Third Song: Tranquil Lake also writes itself in.

“I see that you have already grasped the basics of the second song. That is good. My songs will take you far. Good luck, young disciple of ours.”

The illusion dissipates, leaving me alone in my room.

And now it’s on to the harder part of the day.

I twirl my flute in my hands. I had reached the Tenth Level of Qi Awakening during my fight with Bai Long, with my advancement, I can now play The Tenth Requiem: Death. I remember my discussion with Zhu Teng so long ago, where he had told me that the tenth requiem would give me insight into the meaning of death.

Am I ready for that look into death? Am I ready to see what the meaning of it all is? If that’s even what it will show me. Zhu Teng didn’t have the answers, and I doubt that this one does either.

I bring out The Twelve Requiems of Illusion and hold it in front of me without opening it. I have seen men kill each other, I have killed men, I have seen loss, both my own and the loss of others. Some part of me fears what the requiem will show me, what it will mean. I’m scared that when I see the truth of death, it will be worse than I had hoped.

Am I ready for that?

No.

Still, my hands open the book to The Tenth Requiem: Death. I look over the notes there, my mind wandering over the music. I take a deep breath, then bring my flute to my lips.

I play and the world shifts. The music is soft, a warm blanket the covers everything.

A man kneels, rain pattering against him and the broken cobble under his knees.

A bloodied sword is in his right hand, and I realize he’s crying.

Across from him are the bodies of a woman and a child.

“I should have been here.” His words are quiet, but resonate through the rain so that I can hear them. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. I love you, please please hear me.”

He sings softly, his voice joining my music in a soft duet.

The music rises, and a spirit forms, her face peaceful.

Gently, the woman places her hand on the man’s head. “Hello.” She says and the man freezes.

“I see the guilt you feel in your heart, qing ai de. The pain that you hold, the regret.” She reaches down, her hand cupping his face.

He finally looks up at her, but his eyes can’t meet hers.

“I know. And I love you. You are not alone, and you are forgiven.” Her eyes turn towards me, meeting mine.

Tears flow down my face as she speaks to me. Her eyes hold mine, promising a comfort and an understanding I desperately need.

“Every death stabs at you, twists your heart until you wonder if you have lost who you are. I promise you, you are forgiven.” She smiles, “Our future is uncertain, but we hold no grudge against you, for as we move onto the path ahead of us, we see the truth of your heart.” She turns away from me and leans down to the kneeling man. She kisses his forehead, her lips lingering for a long moment. “Do not let our deaths create more tragedy within you, love of mine.”

She dissipates, her hand resting on the man’s face for a loving moment, before it too, is gone.

The music quiets, and the man lets out a heaving sob before going quiet. Finally, he grabs his sword and stands up.

His eyes meet mine, and I see the tragedy there, the heart broken that can never be fixed. He closes his eyes, and bows his head to me.

The illusion dissipates, leaving me alone in my room.

I put my flute down, and turn my eyes to the window as tears stream down my face.