Alice

Alice could not quite put her finger on what bothered her about Daoists Chan and Li. At first, she thought it was the disparity between their age and how they acted. As usual, David had been overly generous when he'd described the group of guests he'd spoken to. Alice had, of course, gotten a chance to play music at the Jiang family's core formation ceremony, so she had little to complain about.

Daoist Chan reminded her of Wen - with his generic pretty boy aesthetic and ever present insecurity. There were some key differences - his opinions were more tepid and his mind wasn't nearly as quick. He was prone to gloomy silences whenever he wasn't telling fantastic stories of his exploits. He was also three times Wen's age - over seventy.

Daoist Li was, put as nicely as possible, a rude bitch - especially to Daoist Chan. She was also very pretty - in a way that would have stood out back home, but wholly without grace. Everything she said was either an attempt to convince the pair to dislike one thing or another - or it was an attempt to prove her own credibility and knowledge. She was younger than Daoist Chan and had been friends with him for nearly fifty years.

Alice realized, with a start, that both Daoist Chan and Daoist Li were used to being the absolute center of attention in their day to day life. They were obviously vexed when they were confronted with Alice, who took nothing either of them said at face value, and David, who paid them just enough attention to prove he was listening.

As the night wore on, Alice found evidence of David growing steadily more exasperated with their new traveling companions - in the way he exhaled heavily when no one was looking and the increasing length of time he closed his eyes when he blinked. David hadn't been too excited to see them again, and now Alice knew why.

By contrast, the pair grew more and more friendly.

"So what exactly does a core disciple do in the Iron Scripture sect?" Alice tried not to be too curious.

Daoist Li, who'd been hoping she'd ask for nearly an hour, turned her nose up at Daoist Chan, who was only an inner disciple at Clear Skies sect. "As you know, core disciples are the direct inheriting disciples of the peak masters and elders in most sects," she began, speaking to Alice and at Daoist Chan.

"But of course, I'm no ordinary core disciple," said Daoist Li, with a touch of conspiracy. "I'm the sole disciple of my Sect Master. You've probably heard of him, even if you're from the Southern Continent," she said, expecting Alice to start guessing.

Alice, who'd never heard of her Sect Master, or anyone else of note, considered the merits of stroking her chin in a similar manner to Daoist Chan, who also lacked a beard.

"He travels the Middle Continent in disguise, healing the sick and impoverished," said Daoist Li helpfully.

"A noble calling," said David, who looked sure her master was a more pleasant person than Daoist Li.

"He is the oldest member of the previous generation who has yet to ascend," she continued, reluctantly parting with such a huge hint.

Daoist Chan, who was shocked that David and Alice didn't know the answer, was desperate to give it away.

"The Hero of a Thousand Lotuses," Daoist Li tried desperately, "who saved everyone from the dogs to the princes of Xijing from the Blood Plague with medicine that could be made by the newly awakened."

"I must apologize for my ignorance," said Alice carefully, now that Daoist Li suspected that Alice had known the answer all along and was being impolite.

"One leaf of a lotus in full bloom, three shavings of cork-tree pulp - white, two yellow flowers from the golden-bell, four blades of licorice grass picked by moonlight?" Daoist Li recited, sure that Alice would have at least heard of the recipe.

The only thing Alice was sure of was that David must have been tickled pink, because it managed to rhyme in both Chinese and in English. "That sounds familiar," she said, lying through her teeth. "Unfortunately, I've not put any study into medicine at all."

To her surprise, the woman's annoyance morphed into rage - but as quickly as it had come, it fled. Li had become pensive and sad - and for the first time since the four had met on the way to Dongjing, there was silence broken only by the rapid snare of their footsteps over the road.

Daoist Chan's sudden discovery of tact was telling - gone were the overly wrought expressions, the impatient flapping of his sleeves and other wordless reminders that he existed.

At some point, the road had widened and the rough cobblestones had been replaced with smooth, red-brown bricks of fired clay. They'd left the hills and streams of northwest Ping'an behind and the landscape had flattened into grassy plains dotted with fruit trees and tall oaks. The grass had begun collecting dew, a sign of morning that preceded sunlight.

"Master said to me, when I was young, that if everything seems to be an insult - the only certain thing is that I'm easily insulted," said Daoist Li, at last.

Her tone changed suddenly. "The Iron Scripture is an old, powerful foundational scripture, carved within a room of solid metal with a hole large enough only for a child to fit through. Any one disciple young enough to pass through the entrance can receive its teachings."

Something between anger and determination showed on her features. "But each word of the scripture is the size of a child's palm, and the text lines every wall, the ceiling and the floor. On each of the six faces there are a thousand, five hundred and twenty one characters. There are no indications as to where the Iron Scripture begins or the order it should be read. Any attempt to copy it down onto paper results in the ink running."

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Li turned to David and Alice and caught their shared fascination. She was pleased - but her smile was a brittle thing. "But there is advice passed on, carved onto the Sect Master's throne in our Ancestral Hall to be displayed proudly to disciples and visitors alike - that the Iron Scripture ends with these words: this seat has written the Scripture in iron, not because the Linking Mnemonic cannot subvert iron, but because iron remembers its true form."

The sun rose, dawning in a rosy red. The mist rose with it, blanketing the plains as far as the eye could see. In moments like these, Alice did not miss home.

"Once or twice in an aeon, a child is enchanted enough by this tale to memorize every word of the Iron Scripture before they grow too old to squeeze through the entrance. When a child of the Iron Scripture enters Foundation Establishment, there is an elaborate celebration which ends with a hand on the master's throne. If she remembers the word of the Iron Scripture, the throne will know," Daoist Li whispered. "The Sect Master must name her as the sect's inheriting disciple."

Moments ago, nothing in the world could have convinced Alice that she would wish to be Daoist Li.

A rueful smile found its way into her face. "These days, every inner disciple and every elder in the Iron Scripture follows the path of medicine. The Mendicant Doctor attracts such characters to his sect by reputation alone."

The smile couldn't hide the desperate worry in her eyes. "Master has a scant century left to live - even if he manages to complete his Severing and open his last pair of Extraordinary Meridians, he must still survive the lightning. It is only appropriate that every Great Sect whispers about his only direct disciple. She is, after all, a failure with no interest or talent in healing, who somehow cannot remember a single line of the Scripture to share with her sect."

Daoist Chan interjected at last. "That twisted old beggar doesn't see it that way," he protested - his way of comforting the despondent woman.

Li's melancholy froze into a quiet fury. "I'll let you off this time, on account of your good intentions, but if you refer to my master with that detestable name again-" Her fingers found the slate-grey pommel of a sword which matched the color of her robes.

But after his hasty apologies, Daoist Li didn't seem quite as sad.

As the sun turned yellow behind them, conversation turned to David and Alice.

"How did you end up practicing the same scripture as the Jiang family?" Daoist Chan asked David casually. It had been the only casual question Chan had asked since she'd met him - undeniable proof of his burning curiosity.

David's shoulders stiffened. "Just a bit of a coincidence," he said. Alice ranked his response amongst the dumbest excuses she'd ever heard. Their traveling companions seemed to agree.

Li stared at their robes and at the guqin slung over Alice's back - and then at the simple, well-made silver pin displaying the bagua at a lazy angle in Alice's hair. She said nothing - which made it impossible for Alice to come up with convincing excuses, though she wasn't even sure what would count at this point.

"Changshou," Li said softly, addressing Daoist Chan by his given name. "It's unseemly to pry."

The fear from when David and Alice flagged the pair down returned in full force. Alice didn't like this - it made the fast friendship seem like an illusion.

Chan recovered easily, though he was more guarded now. "We've been traveling together for a little while now, so forgive me for letting it slip my mind - how should I address the pair of you?"

Alice mulled over the question in her head and decided that it would turn out to be less of a headache if they weren't 'mysterious cultivators who didn't give their names' when they inevitably parted ways with the other two. "I'm Daoist Chow," she said. "He's Daoist Ji."

Their last names were common enough not to raise suspicion in this world.

"Chow and Ji, good names, good names," said Daoist Chan. "Any relations to the Chows of Chow Valley or the Jis of Huzhou?"

Both of them shook their heads, which seemed to disappoint him.

"Right, you're not from our Middle Continent," he muttered.

It appeared that while the crowd had heard many things spoken by Jiang Xiangyue, they hadn't heard that whisper which named David and Alice as Ascenders, hadn't heard that they were from a Seed World.

The sun was high in the sky when Alice saw the first sign of pagodas on the horizon.

Dongjing was a city built on a hill. According to Daoist Chan, it had once been just the imperial palace of the previous dynasty and a small town surrounding it, but the palace and the walls which protected it had long since been demolished. The only remnant of Dongjing's Starseeking Palace was a chunk of its western wall, situated in a public park where lovers often went.

"The emperors of Xijing," said Daoist Chan with some distaste, "could not bear taking down one of the few pieces of advice on seeking principle left by our forefathers inscribed onto the walls, no matter how transgressive in their eyes."

"How is it transgressive?" Alice asked.

"The Eunuch, Hua Hua - he built his Crimson Palace on the advice of General Tsing, today in the third year of the Guzhu Emperor, with a foundation built of love and loss. In the throes of ecstasy, the Sunflower, Hua Hua - she made her first promise." Daoist Chan waggled his eyebrows, before taking on a more serious demeanor.

"As a student of history, what I've learned is that every dynasty is but a reaction to the one before it. Imperial Dongjing was tolerant of its citizens in many ways that Xijing has not been, and championed legal reform aimed at curbing recidivism - the trend of criminals continuing criminal activities after incarceration. Xijing is a moralistic totalitarian state, but provides medicine and food as social services - and thus has kept its peasants happy for nearly two hundred thousand years," explained Daoist Chan.

He looked troubled. "Despite that, cracks in the social structure have begun forming - more and more awakenings occur in every village, town and city, leading to people who aren't happy with their lot in life."

Daoist Li sniffed. "This is, of course, what sifts through the minds of busybodies like the disciples of the Clear Skies. We are cultivators - we have divested ourselves of society. We are superhuman and thus have no such concerns. A Daoist does not follow the commandments of the state - we are above law, we are above mortal moralities, we are true and pure and guided by our Dao."

"And that's precisely the problem, isn't it?" David said softly. "This is why Daoist Chan is worried, if he is worried for the common folk, as more and more people become cultivators."

Chan nodded. "Before I stood by my own power," he said - referring to awakening in that formal, haughty way, "I claimed royal relations. Upon entering the Clear Skies, a disciple must cleave from his family of origin - but I still cannot ignore the plight of the commoners," he said, smiling.

He clapped his hands together. "No matter, we are almost home. I will find the three of you the best inn in the city to rest at - I must greet my master."

Daoist Li dipped her head in his direction. Her voice came out sharp and mocking “Of course! You will find us the best inn in the city, Prince Changshou. These servants thank your august self!”

“I hate you. I’ve hated you for decades,” growled Chan Changshou.

Alice found that she hated neither Daoist Li nor Daoist Chan.