Da Shan sauntered out from the Chancellor’s office, wavering on his feet for a moment before spitting out a mouth full of blood into the trash can, “I can’t even take one of his shouts… friggin’ jerk.” He wiped his face on his kimono, adding a new stain to his collection. It’s time to make a sale. He clutched the Amber Hairpin and stowed it away in his kimono’s pocket. A few winding staircases and long hallways later he found himself in the sect’s courtyard.
The Sect of Sagacity had one massive building in the shape of a pentagon, in the center of the pentagon was a square or a courtyard — where various shops and stalls had set up to do business (not a “square” as in a square shape). Each of the five sections of the pentagon housed a major Department with smaller related departments. The five departments were: Alchemy and Wizardry, Anatomical Cultivation, Martial Cultivation, Smithing and Refinement, and the last one was Secular Studies and Student Housing. The pentagon itself was of grey and black brick, towering a massive five stories of rock, ivy and stone. It’s black shingle roof framed by stone ramparts where guards constantly patrolled. Separating each section was a massive spire that housed the various materials and criminals relevant to that department. Ah sorry, did I say criminals? I meant to say, “the naughty students” — although they were treated like criminals. All of the five thousand students who were part of the school started in the residences in the Secular Studies Department. Eventually, if they were picked by an Elder, they would move into the residences of that department. For example, if Lord Elderweiss from Anatomical Cultivation fancied a student (at any point during their years of study) he would invite them to join his department. Simple enough.
Deacons and Teaching Assistants had separate living quarters though, there was a red brick building, in the gothic style, behind the pentagon (like way behind the pentagon… out of sight and out of mind) — that was where they lived.
It was in the main square that Da Shan found himself, he walked with purpose to a stall with a gaudily decorated sign: Mission Rewards and Exchanges, Best Deals This Side of the Mississippi River!
All the stalls were independently owned, but in the principle of capitalistic meritocracy, no stall was guaranteed to be here next year. The school took a cut of every sale made — on principle — items were never confiscated. If someone acquired an item legally, it was theirs to keep. But, stall owners had to be wary of the Auditors, a mysterious group — said to be the Chancellor’s right hand — who, if they suspected a stall of “fudging the numbers”, would descend like locusts and devour everything. Department and Sect Missions were a little different, for missions the sect normally gave out a list of desired items, everything not on the list, was fair game. In general, all the items by sect law had to be sold to a licenced Mission Exchange stall, where a School Appraiser ensured that the items exchanged matched the list the school had posted. All publicly posted missions had to be approved by the Chancellor’s Office. As said before, any items apart from the list could be kept by the mission goer, this law was enforced with great impunity by Chancellor Joseph McCarthy.
Here's an example, in times past the Pentagon was a Hexagon. The Alchemy and Wizardry departments were separate. That was until the Department Head of the Wizardry department killed a Deacon to forcibly seize an item, an item that was not on the mission list. Somehow, nobody really knows how, the Auditors heard of this and the Chancellor ordered a full investigation and corruption was found to be rank in the Wizardry Department. Joseph burned the department to the ground and summoned all the Elders and student body. He then dragged Department Head Melecandor through the streets and disembowelled him, by hand, in front of the crowd and stared them all down with a steely-eyed gaze said, "My house, my rules or get out." Then in front of everyone he summoned a hurricane and demolished the Wizardry section of the Hexagon, Wizards that didn’t escape in time were buried under piles of rubble. He commissioned the Smithing Department to remake the Hexagon into a Pentagon (with an abnormally long side) and merged what was left of the Wizardry Department into the Alchemy Department. Then, to cap it all off, he made this incident compulsory reading in the Secular Studies Department. That's why, though missions were dangerous, there was a high chance to get a juicy item (and keep it) — because of these rules and the one who enforced them.
But apart from that, think of the cash!!! There was good business to be made — buying goods from the Deacon and Student missions — and selling them to the departments (if you had the talent). Most departments were a little short staffed when it came to resource collecting, so they were more than happy to spend some of their mountains of moolah (and avoid the risk of death) to procure items as they were available in the market or offer a Department Mission.
As hinted at before, the only major caveat is that all loot from a school assigned mission could only be bought and sold at the school.
Da Shan wormed his way through the throngs of students and elders, trying hard to not let his bag of heads bump into too many people. His slightly stale smell and oily hair ensured he had a bit more wiggle room than most. He meandered his way through the stalls until he spotted a particularly drab storefront. The banner was motley, the colours drab and the black man who owned it was fast asleep. Snoring loudly to the chagrin of a customer who was trying to get his attention. Da Shan got in line behind the annoyed looking fop and waited. The fop waved his hands and snapped his fingers, his face red with exertion, desperately trying to wake up the shopkeeper. Feeling defeated the man soon gave up. With a huff, he turned and after shooting Da Shan a derisive look, he grinned, “Well if it isn’t Mr. Elder of Mediocrity! The Sage of Singleness! The Lion of Loneliness! The Scrub of Simplicity! The Avenger of Averageness! A pleasure to see you again!” The man bowed, his blonde hair bobbed as he dipped his body in mock reverence.
Da Shan blushed, dropped his bags, and shook the man’s hand vigorously, “The pleasure’s all mine!”
Stunned at Da Shan’s nonchalant reaction, the man stared woodenly as Da Shan shook his hand. The man looked down after Da Shan let go and noticed a rather odd scent wafting up from his hand.
“Is that what I think it is?” He sniffed the air cautiously.
Da Shan chuckled, “Oh sorry, I forgot to wash my hands after my most recent… appointment with mother nature. Let me do that now!” Da Shan pulled out an oddly shaped leaf and rubbed it on his hands until they smelled minty fresh.
The other man’s face seethed with rage and he wordlessly stomped off with all the arrogance someone could muster after a situation like that.
Looking at the man’s back Da Shan’s bashful look vanished, it was replaced with a cold sneer. You wish that brown stuff was mother nature’s… Hehehe… You’re not going to feel your hand for the next few days. Now done with the angry blonde man, Da Shan knocked on the stall, startling the motley looking stall keeper awake.
“Who goes there?!” The old black shopkeeper shouted, pulling his dark musty kimono tighter to his boney frame. His wrinkly dark skin and bald head matching his kimono in both age and colour. He peered at Da Shan, confusion soon replaced with a look of mild annoyance.
“Mornin’ Ed.”
“It’s the bloody afternoon Da Shan!” The black man’s bald head shimmered in the sun, as if emphasizing the time of day.
“It’s always morning when I see your sunny face.”
“Are you gay?”
“…”
“I asked you a question.”
“Today seems to be a weird day for questions.”
“Why, you get asked that a lot? You hit on seniors a lot, you into that wrinkly worm huh, early bird?”
“… The hell Ed.”
“You started this.”
“…”
Ed casually picked at his fingers, “There are people of that persuasion around Da Da, there’s no need to come to me. You know I’m a eunuch.”
Oz dropped the sack in his hands, “You’re a eunuch?! When did this happen Ed?”
“I never told you?” Ed rubbed his bald head casually as Da Shan’s jaw dropped.
“You have friggin’ twelve kids!”
Ed sniffed lightly, “They’re all adopted.”
“And your wife… how do you… satisfy her?”
Ed beckoned Da Shan close and wrapped a boney ebony arm around Da Shan’s shoulders, he whispered “There are other ways to keep women happy.” Ed crooked two fingers in the shape of a “C”.
Da Shan gasped.
Ed’s smiled, letting his crooked teeth show, revealing a smarmy smile of glittering pearly whites that contrasted with his black skin.
Da Shan scratched the scruff on his face thoughtfully, “I always wondered why your kids were all white.”
“You were never the brightest bulb in the room.”
“You keep bulbs in your room?”
“You don’t?”
“Why would I plant tulips indoors? I got a garden for that.”
“…”
“What?”
Ed pressed his fingers to his forehead and groaned, “You been living under a rock?”
“Pardon?”
Ed stared at Da Shan, “You miss the secular invention of the light bulb?”
Da Shan stared blankly back, “What’s it do?”
“It’s a bulb that lights up.”
“Glowing flowers aren’t anything new around here Ed.”
“… You’re stupid, eh, you know that?”
“… I’m growing a little tired of the comment, but yeah, I’ve gathered.”
“If you’re tired of it you should read a newspaper.” At this, as if signifying the end of their conversation, Ed leaned back, pulled out a newspaper and began to read. Da Shan peeked at the frontpage, reading the articles on the other side of Ed’s paper. Noticing this, Ed shifted the paper. Da Shan followed the article as Ed moved the paper. Ed frowned and moved the newspaper again. Da Shan followed it closely.
“DAMMIT GIT LOST DA SHAN! Can’t you see I’m busy, I don’t have time for your games! I got customers to take care of.”
Da Shan casually glanced around, just to make sure he was the only one there. Ed blushed when he realized what Da Shan was doing and with a harrumph returned to his paper. A couple minutes passed between the two. Then a loud shout interrupted their quiet time.
“Da Shan!”
The paper nearly flew out of Ed’s hand in surprise, even Da Shan gave a couple shocked blinks and looked around trying to find the source of the shout.
Ed let out a low whisper, “Who knew people actually wanted to talk to you…”
A dull-eyed look made Ed loudly harrumph again, and then return to his paper.
The voice called out again, “Da Shan!”
Ed nearly stumbled over again at the loudness of the voice. Da Shan gave up looking around and started to pick his ear.
“Dammit Da Da, who’s calling you? They’re so loud,” Ed gently patted one of his ears for emphasis.
Da Shan shrugged, “Ah, I didn’t know people wanted to talk to me…”
“You are so sensitive,” before Ed could return to his paper the voice called out again.
“DA SHAN!”
It was so loud the stall was rocked and some of Ed’s wares came loose, nearly tumbling on the floor, before the shopkeeper nimbly caught them.
“Alright, that’s it dammit! Show yerself you little prick! You think this is some private concert hall? This is a public place, you want to talk to someone use yer damn legs.” Ed shouted so loud his face was tinged red with exertion. Some passersby by balked at Ed, but no one came forward. With a loud flap of paper he settled back down to read the day’s news.
Then, as if on cue. A man with a slight and slender frame walked up, he had rectangular glasses and almost wavy black hair. His eyes were a radiant brown. He wore a brown waistcoat with a high-necked white muslin shirt. Over top, he wore a soft velvety blue coat, paired with close fitted blue pants. His high top leather boots lightly clicked on the stone as he walked.
At his side, he guided a frightened looking young lady. She had a soft strawberry shaped head and red curls. Green eyes, freckles and creamy white skin painted the portrait of a uniquely beautiful woman, one that would be hard to forget. Though she seemed out of sorts, he posture was straight and severe, a military type. She wore a white muslin shirt with a matching brown waistcoat, brown pants and brown leather boots. A petite nose and inviting lips made her masculine attire accent her femininity even more.
It was James and Jillian.
Da Shan’s eyes glazed over, as if he didn’t want to be engaged in conversation with the pair. His body soon followed suit with his eyes and he turned a little off to the side.
The shopkeeper let out a hushed whisper as they approached, “Customers…” Then when the shock wore off, his look of expectation drooped, “They look stingy…” He pulled up his paper, covering his face and leaned back in his chair with a heavy sigh.
“Da Shan,” James said.
“You were the annoying voice dammit!” The shopkeeper almost fell off his chair as he rocked forward, trying to hit James with his paper.
James stepped back and bowed, “My apologies, but I was trying to call Da Shan for a private conversation, for some reason he stayed. Take these gold ducats for compensation.” With a light clack James set down a couple gold coins on the stall.
Ed took the money and loudly harrumphed, before returning to his paper.
James turned to his friend and spoke again, “Da Shan.”
Da Shan turned his head away even more, his neck almost creaking from the effort.
“Da Shan.”
“…What.” Came the grudging response.
James looked nervous, his voice was a little unsteady, “I’m sorry for not bringing the package earlier… I was distracted.”
“Do you know how many people died?” The reply was short and curt, and it bit into James’ heart.
“Too many.”
Da Shan nodded, then gently patted James shoulder, “At least you know, that’s all we can do at this point.” He turned, his voice noticeably warmer, “Now, who is this?”
James’ eyes shone with eagerness. “Oh, allow me to introduce to you, Jillian LaPucelle. She’s an alien.”
Ed tumbled out of his chair, the newspaper flying everywhere. He cleared his throat as everyone’s eyes fell on him and sat back up. Flapping the newspaper in front of himself.
Jillian gave a slight bow and just as she was about to speak Da Shan cut her off.
“She doesn’t look like an alien James… she looks a little familiar.”
James nodded stoically, “I know, I know… I know.”
Jillian looked confused and tried to ask again, but Da Shan didn’t note the social cue.
“Where did you pick her up?” Da Shan wrinkled his nose and sniffed, “She smells like that odd corpse I found on the hill…”
“Jack.”
Da Shan’s eyes went wide while James smirked at him.
Jillian spoke again, her voice firmer, “His name was Jack.” She nervously tugged at a glowing blue ring on her finger.
Da Shan’s voice waxed cold, “The dead only have names to their beloved.” Da Shan turned around, ending the conversation.
Jillian’s eyes rippled with anger. This fricking rude prick. She was about to give him a piece of her mind when James’ hand rested on her shoulder, almost forcing her anger down. He looked at her. She looked at him. James shook his head and sent her a whisper that only she could hear, “There are things you don’t know about…”
Then in a louder voice James addressed Da Shan.
“I know it must be hard for you to see her, Jillian bears an uncanny resemblance to —”
“Not another word James.”
“… If you say so…” James sighed, “It seems I have put my foot in my mouth yet again, I will pay you a visit in your dorm tonight. We have things to talk about, as for right now, Jillian and I need some supplies.”
Da Shan waved, his back still to them. Jillian resisted, looking like she wanted to say some words to Da Shan, but James managed to tug her away. Silence and a lack of customers once more returned to Ed’s little stall, the shopkeeper doing well to pretend he heard none of the conversation.
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But soon curiosity got the better of him, “So… James and Jillian… interesting names… interesting names…”
Da Shan leaned against the stall and waited. Ed waited, hoping to hear some juicy bits of gossip, but time stretched on. Ed soon realized that no information would be forthcoming, the veteran gossiper — now deeply disappointed — returned to his newspaper with a sullen look on his face. The two men continued in silence for a few more minutes.
Then Da Shan casually said, “You know Ed, I used to own a newspaper company.”
Accepting the change in subject, Ed humored him and responded, “So I’ve heard and as you’ve mentioned for the past 200 years you’ve visited my stall.” Feeling a little miffed at not being told some salacious tales about James and Jillian Ed threw in a little conversational barb. “I still don’t believe you.”
Ed turned a page of his paper, not even looking at Da Shan.
Da Shan frowned, but then prodded his friend, “Why not?”
Ed sat up straight, pulled out a wad of tobacco from underneath his stall and produced a pipe from his kimono pocket. He opened up the bag and wafted the cherry scent into his nose. Catching Da Shan’s look of disapproval, he quickly stuffed his pipe and lit it and then puffed contentedly for a few minutes.
Da Shan scowled and said, “Smoking is bad for your health.”
“Being visited by you is worse.”
“… Anyways… why won’t you believe me?”
Ed took a long draw from his pipe and after chewing on the stem thoughtfully leaned forward, his robe opened at the chest — revealing his ebony and boney pectorals. “You want the truth? Or do you want me to say sorry and just pass off the comment as being a by-product of not being told juicy gossip?”
“I’d prefer the truth.”
Ed leaned back and sat in silence, staring at Da Shan — as if evaluating what to do next. Time ticked by and with every passing second Ed took longer and harder pulls on his pipe, until there was nothing left. He put his pipe down. And locked eyes with Da Shan before saying, “It’s one thing to say mean things as a joke… but it’s a little hard to honestly say things to someone’s face… especially yours. I like you Da Shan. I had no business before you came, still don’t really apart from you. But you do so many crazy missions that you keep me alive. And you buy my most expensive item, the Longevity Pills. And you buy them at a premium price every time. I know you’ve been doing it because you’re a good guy. I know you do it for my kids and my wife.”
Da Shan’s expression remained still. Ed paused and then continued, “I’m 273 years old next month. My cultivation isn’t very high… but it’s not that much lower than yours. Soon, I’ll have to start taking the pills myself. I can’t advance in my cultivation… I don’t have the resources. But you… if you just kept more items you could have advanced your technique a thousand times over by now. I’ve never seen you cultivate! Do you know what everyone calls you?”
“The Elder of Mediocrity?”
“No not that one, the other one.”
“Nope.”
“Little Hill, a play off the meaning of your name.”
Da Shan’s face turned red with embarrassment, “That’s… unexpected… how did they know my name means Big Mountain?”
“I may have… told… a few people… Anyways! Yeah, most of the students and other Elders don’t know how hard you work around here, they judge you just by your cultivation. I don’t think the Alchemy Department even knows that half their items come from you.”
Da Shan regarded his friend with silence.
“My friend, you’ve probably been cultivating for 100 years now… and I don’t know what you’re doing with all these longevity pills… but you’re going to die at this rate. Some advice from an old-timer. Work hard. Because right now, you’re trash.”
“… So, why don’t you believe that I owned a newspaper company?”
“Dammit Da Shan! Do you listen?”
“Very well actually.”
Ed rubbed his shining head in exasperation, “Talking to you is like pulling out hair.”
“… Do you even know what that feels like?”
Ed glared at him, “I wasn’t born bald.”
“But… aren’t we all?”
“Nah, some babies have hair on their heads.”
“You don’t say…” Da Shan scratched his chin, digesting this information and then realized he had been distracted. He prodded his friend, “But why won’t you believe anything I say?”
“Because you’re weak Da Shan.”
“How does my strength correlate with my integrity?”
“It doesn’t, it causally relates.”
“It casually relates?”
“No… causally, like, it is the cause of.”
“So because I’m weak, I’m a liar?”
“You got it.”
Both men paused for a moment, Da Shan scratched his head thoughtfully and Ed pulled out a rag and polished his head. After a couple more minutes, Da Shan leaned in, making Ed put away his rag and look at him in expectation.
“Ed, I have a secret I’d like to tell you.”
Ed leaned back, “Is it about your newspaper company?”
“It’s about my age.”
“Frig… don’t tell me you’re older than me! I’d be ashamed to give you advice and even more ashamed to have known you.”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“… Hell man, don’t keep me in suspense… just say it.”
“I’m 706.”
“Horse bridles! Like hell you are! You bloody elf-skin! How can you tell such a lie with a straight face?!”
Da Shan leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest defiantly, “Bring out a Bloodreader.”
“Frig, you’re serious? Costs 100 ducats.”
Da Shan pulled a small sack from his kimono and set in on the stall with a clink.
Ed’s eyes bulged, “Hot damn… you’re serious?”
“Yeah… but can I sell this stuff first?” Da Shan patted his storage pouch for emphasis.
“Oh sure.”
Da Shan nodded gratefully then set down the bag on his back, “And I have what’s left of some comrades and three trophy heads from a mission.”
“A damn shame when we lose good people. The Fascists got them? The Soviets have been pretty fierce lately…” Ed touched a star-spangled flag hanging from his stall with reverence.
“Nah, it was Witches.”
“Ah, suppose that’s a little better, least they weren’t dissected alive or anything like that.”
“Yeah… shall I give it to you?” Da Shan proffered the bag to Ed.
“Yeah, I’ll put it in storage and bring it out to the monument later.”
“Thanks, here’s the list of those who didn’t make it back.”
Both men paused awkwardly and reverently, observing an impromptu moment of silence before Ed cleared his throat and received the list before speaking, “Bloody done with all this sad stuff. Let’s get on to the money.”
A few transactions later both men were joking and laughing at the unexpectedly good haul that Da Shan had brought in. Ed smiled at his friend and then handed him ten bottles of longevity pills and a gold bar. “That bar’s been weighed, it’s a kilo. So that’s the 1000 ducats in change I owe you.”
“Thanks Ed.”
“My pleasure, see you tomorrow brother,” Ed gave a small wave then busied himself organizing his purchases.
Da Shan knocked on the stall, startling the shopkeeper — who glared at him. But Da Shan was not dissuaded, he tapped the counter of the stall, “Ed… the Bloodreader.”
“Da Shan… don’t waste your money on a prank.”
“Says the man who didn’t give me back my bag of gold.”
Ed turned away awkwardly.
Da Shan gave a small grin, “Let’s make a bet then, if I’m 706, you give me five spirit stones.”
Ed’s eyes narrowed, “And if you’re not?”
“I’ll give you a Fist Cultivation manual for Nathanael.”
“Deal. Show me the manual first.”
Da Shan pulled a battered manual from his kimono pocket. Ed whistled in appreciation at the craftsmanship of the leather-bound volume and its pristine condition. Da Shan nodded at the praise and then absently commented, “You know, apparently there was a time when people kept their storage pouches in their hands or tied to their body, rather than as a pocket in their clothes.”
Ed balked, “Get out! That’s so stupid, people would be stealing storage pouches left right and center, displaying your wealth like that… how dumb.”
“I know right? Apparently, that’s how it went. Anyways… this is a Green Grade manual, right? So, it’s worth 10 stones at least… that ain’t a small sum.”
“I might be a little confident.”
“‘Zat so? Me too. Call.”
“Call.”
Ed went into the back of his stall and a little rummaging and some curses later pulled out a device that looked like an old cellphone with a key pad. He unscrewed the knob on the top to reveal a syringe. After a few mutters and mumbles he turned a dial to a setting that read: Age. Without looking up he said, “Alright Da Shan, prick yourself.”
“Funny guy.”
“Ain’t I?”
“Prick you!” Da Shan smiled and took the Bloodreader. Without a word he stabbed the syringe into his wrist and let it slurp up a sizeable amount of blood. He then passed it back to his friend while the device started beeping and buzzing. Da Shan fold his hands behind his back and puffed out his chest with expectation, his greasy black hair moving in the wind. The machine kept calculating. Sweat started to form on Ed’s bald face, his hands started shaking. Five Spirit stones was no small sum. He set the device down on the stall counter and both men stared at it expectantly — Da Shan pretending not to gloat. A number popped on the screen, 1 and then it changed to 2. Then 3. And it kept increasing, slowly but surely. Very slowly though.
“Is this an old model Ed?”
“The oldest.”
“… You cheap knave.”
“Da Da, you don’t bring in enough goods for me to upgrade my inventory.”
Da Shan replied with a sigh, “We’ll be here all night.”
“The hell, did it just go down?”
“Why’s it counting down? That’s what you get for not using the latest model Ed.”
“Eh? It’s back at zero.”
“Now its at 999… Ed… does this thing only go to 1000?”
“I guess… the screen is pretty small.”
“Ed… you really need to get a new one.”
“EH?! It’s still counting down.”
Allowing a small smirk to creep on his face Da Shan said, “Perhaps its because it’ll reach its destination faster.”
Ed sweated… a lot. Two hours passed by and Ed had sweated so much he almost passed out, but the machine was still counting down. One number at a time, sometimes up, sometimes down… but in the end. Mostly down.
712
No! Ed’s thoughts screamed in his head.
Yes… Da Shan grinned like the Grinch who stole Christmas.
711
No! No! No!
Yes! Yes! Yes!
710
If he wins, I’ll kill him.
Ed must be so happy for me.
709
The hell?! This guy’s like three times my age.
Bask in the presence of your glorious senior.
708
NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!
Maybe I’ll go easy on him, I’ll just make Ed call me Senior Martial Brother whenever we meet.
708
Huh?
…
After a few moments of no movement the machine beeped triumphantly and then a robotic voice intoned: “Rejoice human overlord, you are among the very aged! Congratulations on being 708!”
Ed’s pores were so confused, they didn’t know whether to sweat or not, but his mind saw a devious loophole. “Hehehe. You’re not 706.”
“…”
*****
Ed looked triumphant as he perused his new manual. Da Shan muttered, “I hope there’s a scribal error in the manual.”
“Now now, let’s not be a sore loser… you were the one who said, ‘If I’m 706’. Hehehe. You could have said, ‘Over 700’. But you didn’t.”
“Yes… I didn’t.”
“No one to blame but yourself.”
“Indeed, I am the one to blame.”
“…”
“…”
Da Shan’s figure drooped, and little droplets of water began streaking down his face. The droplets turned into a mighty river of tears. Ed looked aghast… he didn’t know what to do! “Ugh, there, there.” He began unsteadily then with more gusto, “Old friend was this manual important to you? The wager was tilted a bit in my favor, I was only wagering half of what you were… tell you what! I owe you a five stone favor! Now don’t expect me to pay it out, but I got your back… eh? So, no hard feelings about the —”
Da Shan sat up and his tears seemed to shoot back into his eyes as his face warped into an expression that was most Grinch-like.
Damn… I’ve been played.
“You promise Ed? No backsies, no penny taxies?”
“… I… promise…”
“No backsies?”
“No… back… sies…”
“No penny —”
“Prick you, ya damn frock! I already promised you, now get on with it.”
Da Shan’s eyes glimmered with conspiracy, he looked around furtively with his eyes and then leaned in treacherously, “You’ll have to take a blood oath.”
“Frig you want me to swear to secrecy?!”
Da Shan nodded solemnly.
“Who are you hiding from, what kind of enemies could you have ya old coot!” Ed’s arms flapped with emotion, but his mind was whirling. Damn… actually if the guy’s 700 then he could have all sorts of enemies who are stronger than him. I mean if he pissed off some genius cultivator when they were both young and maybe now that genius cultivator has surpassed him in strength and has come for revenge. Frig! Or he was buddies with some cultivator and then, this guy cast him out because of his lack of progress and now he’s got a powerful enemy. Light untold! There’s too many possibilities for an idiot like him. His enemy could be the Patriarch (or Matriarch, let me not be accused of gender inequality in my mind) of a sect! Frig! Frig! Frig! Prick him! Prick him!
With a sheepish grin Da Shan whispered, “Just the Chancellor.”
Ed fell off his stool with a crash and them stumbled back up, “You scum! I won’t help you!”
“It was just a joke Ed.”
“I oughta — wait… a joke?”
“Yeah, it was just a joke.”
“Oh.”
Da Shan turned his back to Ed and paused stoically, allowing the wind to fondle his greasy hair and billow his unkempt robes, “The truth is, the Chancellor and I are blood brothers.”
“Pffft, Hahahaha!”
Da Shan, still looking off majestically in the distance, continued, “We are sworn allies and even in-laws. This is a secret I have revealed to no one except you. Him and I are on a quest for revenge.”
Ed glanced around furtively, “Da Shan, if you don’t want to be executed by the Council of Sagery for propagating communist ideas, you should stop. Spreading lies about the Chancellor is a fine way to get yourself thrown into the gulag, you think those spires are just for show? Naughty students go in and they don't come out.” He turned around as if disassociating himself from Da Shan.
“But it’s all —”
“A load of crap. Whatever man, no need to be so mysterious. I’ll take the blood oath and help you.” Ed turned around almost jumped when he saw that Da Shan’s expectant eyes were just and inch from his face.
Eyes aglow with expectation, Da Shan asked, “… You promise?”
“Do we have to go through this again?”
“We might.”
“Da Shan.”
“Not have to.”
Ed sighed with exasperation, “Alright, so what’s the plan?”
Now it was Da Shan’s turn to look around with fruitive glances, as if ensuring that no one would overhear his plan. Ed tried to resist the urge to beat Da Shan. After glancing around for almost five minutes Da Shan leaned in, “Meet me under the Bridge of Nineteen Sparrows at midnight.”
“The Bridge of Nineteen Sparrows? Where’s that?”
“It’s the bridge at the back woods, the one beside the sewage filtration plant.”
“Ah… why the odd name?”
“It’s my secret headquarters… consider yourself fortunate old friend. I have already revealed so much to you without a blood oath.”
Ed dryly responded, “I feel blessed.”
Da Shan nodded sagely, as if that was the most obvious conclusion, “So you should. Anyways, I need to go to my room to get my stuff, I’ll meet you there tonight.”
“Alright, get out of here.”
“With pleasure.”
Da Shan turned on his heels and walked off, his sandals clicking on the stone floor and his robes blowing majestically in the breeze as he walked off. Ed shook his head slowly, before mumbling to himself, “When he’s like that you’d really believe he’s one of the best swordsmen in the sect. Pah! His cultivation is too weak though to get any real respect… you’re a fool old friend… a fool.” Ed, feeling a little melancholic, packed away his goods and his stall.
The sun started to set as Da Shan walked towards the red brick dormitory behind the pentagon. As he walked, he heard the whispered jeers and insults of the students. Mocking his smell, his appearance, his talent and his rank. Even though he was a Deacon — the lowest rank in the Eldership — it was still a crime to mock a superior. But Da Shan was an old man. He looked at the kids. Their green blazers and white shirts glowing with all the vicissitude of youth and all the idiocy that went with it.
Maturity is a process that takes time, if it was a few centuries ago Da Shan might get annoyed. He might murder some of these people indiscriminately — if he was a cultivator of thinner skin — but those kinds of hotheads could never survive. That kind of behaviour was beyond childish, it was animalistic. The world of cultivation used to be filled with idiotic brutes who pursued their base desires, that was until the importance of Secular Studies was realized. The importance of legitimate virtuous living. Da Shan recalled a teaching he had encountered in his travels, “Do not be overly wicked or God will cut you off, do not be overly righteous or you will die before your time.” Da Shan felt contemplative as he mulled over the phrase. Words of wisdom, these young cultivators should learn their place before being out of place harms them. Before long Da Shan had made his way to the brick building. He knocked. The door opened, revealing a frowning elderly woman with a smart, hot pink, business suit. She eyed him up and down through granny glasses.
“Da Shan… I see you’ve returned.”
“Evening Deloris, yes I have.”
A frown tugged at her wrinkled face, “Where’s everybody else?”
“Ah, they didn’t make it.”
“Even Cindy?”
“Yeah.”
“Frig.” Deloris spat angrily, “I’m always amazed at how you make it back every time… the past thirty years I’ve been in charge of this place… nobody pisses me off like you do.”
“Thanks Deloris.”
“No, I’m not done yet.”
Da Shan’s head bobbed casually, “Ah, by all means continue.”
“Cindy was going to be promoted to Teacher after this mission, did you know that?”
Another nod, a little less vigorous, “I did Deloris.”
“Did you now?”
“Yes I did.” There was no nod from Da Shan this time.
Deloris jabbed a finger into his chest, knocking him off balance, “Why didn’t you save her life then? Huh, you worthless satyr. She had a future, she was a girl with potential!"
"I have a lot of potential!" Indignation laced Da Shan’s voice in response to Deloris’ hostile tone.
"You got about as much potential in cultivation as you do in getting married. Frig... I bet if you had a wife she'd kill herself because of you."
Something in Da Shan seemed to snap, his vision went red and he had difficulty not unsheathing his blade, between short breaths and clenched teeth he spoke.
“If she’s so amazing and she couldn’t protect herself, how could this little Elder of Mediocrity save her life? Spare me your rants, you old windbag and get the hell out of my way.”
“What — well I never —”
"You know Deloris, I’m really tired today and I don't have the patience to argue with you. If I do, I don't think I'll be able to hold back. I'm really sorry that Cindy died! Okay! I tried to help her, but you know what, she died because she was a fool!"
“You take that back or I will —”
“If Cindy is so amazing she’d be back. But I’m back, so I’m amazing. So shut up and let me through, you’re barely 70 this year and you want to lecture me? Move hag!”
“I will report you!”
Da Shan strode right up to her face, his hot breath mingling with hers as their eyes met. Sparks seemed to fly, but Da Shan did not back down, despite her superior cultivation. He leaned in closer.
“Go ahead, make sure it’s to a Department Head so that they have the authority to discipline me.”
“I will make sure of it!”
“Thank you, now if you please. Step. Aside.”
Deloris crossed her arms over her chest and regarded Da Shan with unbridled hostility, “I challenge you to a duel.” She too leaned in, unafraid of Da Shan's naked aggression, "To the death."
Her words snapped Da Shan back to reality. Frig... what am I doing, I need to keep a low profile! I have plans, I have plans I can't get involved with her in a life and death battle. Frig! Da Shan's brain spun like a merry-go-round, trying to find a solution. His dizzy brain stumbled upon the best one it could find. Withdrawing from close proximity to Deloris, he folded his hands behind his back with a flourish of his kimono. He shook his head, recalling the flash of red at Deloris remark about his wife. It’s not like she knew he was married before, no one in this town knew. To think he still had such a temper! He shook his head at the ridiculousness of his conduct just now. He regarded Deloris, bristling with animosity, and shook his head with an air of indifference. What am I? A beast? An unreasoning animal? How foolish Da Shan. This is a lose lose. If I kill Deloris, I'll make more enemies than I can count... especially her niece... and prick... if I die... needless to say that's bad for my health.
Da Shan's face returned to neutrality and with a huff that only the elderly can manage, he said, “I decline.”
“Excellent, we'll set the date for — wait what?”
“I decline.”
“You can’t decline! I —” Deloris’ protest froze in her throat; Da Shan’s blade had somehow flown from its sheath and the back end was pressed against her throat. She felt the blood drain from her face.
“Deloris,” His breath was hot and heavy, right in her ear. “I don’t want to kill you and make your niece my enemy.”
Da Shan withdrew his blade and brushed passed her. His steps slow and steady.
Deloris almost stumbled, the shock was almost too much for her. But then she remembered there was another reason she had started talking with Da Shan — before she let her temper get the better of herself. She cleared her throat awkwardly.
Da Shan paused after hearing the sound, knowing she had something to say.
Deloris’ voice was halting but picked up as she kept talking, “Cindy was supposed to give the lecture on the Grand Meaning tonight.”
“Ah.”
A pause followed, and the silence stretched on. Deloris looked at him, waiting for a response, but his face remained as blank as a freshly scrubbed chalkboard. She tried again.
“The Teacher, Elder Bill, is sick today… has been for the past week.”
“That’s unfortunate.”
Another pause in the conversation. Her newfound fear of the Cultivator in front of her the only thing stopping her from lashing out at his ineptitude. She managed to keep her tone respectful as she asked, “Would you —”
“Oh you want me to… fill in the…”
“Lecture, yes. I want you to give the lecture.”
“…Why?”
“To give a lecture you either have to be over 100 years old or have special permission. All my Teaching Assistants are either dead or busy and you’re the only person on site who’s over 100.”
“I decline.”
The reply was quick and the tone final. Deloris felt anger bubble up, but she managed to reign in her emotions. She paused ,collecting herself, “… May I ask why?”
“You may.”
“…”
“…”
The silence was almost deafening. Deloris seethed. She forced the words out between clenched teeth, “You’re going to make me ask again aren’t you?”
A twinkle of intelligence shone in the back of Da Shan’s eyes — unnoticed by Deloris — but his face brooked an expression of confusion.
Deloris sighed, comforting herself that he was just a hapless idiot before asking, “Why won’t you do it?”
“I don’t want to. Now if you’ll excuse me.” Da Shan marched up the stairs and swept passed Deloris but then froze as her voice called out and she extended her hand.
“The payment is one gold bar.” The bar shone especially bright in the sunset, Deloris felt her facial muscles twitch at the abasement of bribery.
Da Shan whirled around and swept it up before Deloris could react and clutched the bar in his fingers. Nothing is sweeter than gold. Nothing. Hehehe! His face contorted with an unhinged joy and his tone sweetened to such a degree it made Deloris sick, “Highly esteemed friend, why didn’t you just say so! I was so confused I didn’t understand what you were saying at all. You said lecture? I thought you said latrine! Ah, what a mistake I have made.” Da Shan subtly put the gold bar in his storage bag. Deloris tried not to vomit as Da Shan bowed repeatedly, backed out of the door and then ran off to the lecture hall.
Before she could have a moment to herself, his bumbling form turned around and came back into her view and asking. She bristled at the thought of having to endure another conversation with him.
He called out, “I’m sorry my dearest Deloris, what is the lecture about and where is it?”
She sighed with gratitude that it was just a simple question, “The lecture, as I said before, is on the Grand Meaning. It’s in the Secular Studies 101 lecture room. The teaching materials are in the —”
“No need for those, I’m off. Ta ta!”
Deloris felt her knees grow weak, “I need to sit down.”