Alice
Alice liked Earth Peak. It reminded her of home in many ways, as many parts of Tianbei often did. Loud disciples played games, ate despite having no need and fell in love with one another in a ceaseless drama. If she closed her eyes, she could almost pretend it was a school cafeteria.
Almost. Her hearing had gotten too sharp - there were too many conversations about things that couldn't have been real back home.
Ever vain, she listened for whispers about her. Most of the disciples in the Ascending Sky recognized one another - a byproduct of having seen one another around for many, many years. There were comments about her appearance - mostly positive. There were questions about when she'd joined the sect - surely sometime in the past decade, maybe even the last five years. There were also estimations of her cultivation - very few of those were correct.
Alice stepped into the Peak Master's study behind him and into what felt like a different world.
The study seemed deceptively small at first - each of the four walls were lined with cramped shelves filled to the brim with both scrolls and books. Little placards of a white stone were carved and inked and stuck onto each individual shelf to describe the contents of the scrolls and books perched upon them.
The shelves rose to the ceiling, three times as tall as Alice. Her first instinct was to look around for a ladder of some sort, but then she remembered that at a certain standard of cultivation, flight was common.
The floor of the study was lined in a plush crimson carpet, thick enough so her boots sank into it and left little imprints that were her footsteps. A well used globe, made purely of brass, stood on a tripod in the center of the room. It spun without any external force. Alice heard the telltale whispers of the Story from it - it was surely powered with qi. Depicted on it were embossed continents and depressed oceans, with deep little indents forming lakes and rivers. Only the Middle Continent was mapped with much detail.
The Peak Master was nowhere to be seen. Alice then realized there was an opening between two of the bookshelves that made up the far wall.
"Are you trying to find something to read?" came Feng's voice through the gap. He sounded vaguely amused - and far less impatient than she'd expected.
Alice walked past the opening in the shelves with her best smile. "Good afternoon, Peak Master."
Past the bookshelves was a dramatically different half of the room - the floor continued to be carpet but the study had become a different sort of room entirely.
In the center of the room was an operating table that could have fit a giant - its face was a twelve foot, square slab of white and black marble, completely bare. Supporting it were round legs of burnished iron, four at each corner and one more in the center - of stone that grew from the floor - likely part of Earth Peak itself.
All along the edges of the rooms were various devices and knick-knacks.
Three large open-faced cauldrons - of pewter, of stone and of what Alice was sure was solid gold, each the same size, lined the wall behind Alice - each barely touching the bookcases that formed the fourth wall.
Pill furnaces, of much more ornate make and of a far larger size than the one that Wen had purchased in Ping’an were perched in a row of fifteen against the wall to Alice’s left.
Along the right wall was an absolute mess - papers with charcoal scribblings were strewn across the floor, half-opened scrolls were abandoned beside them, and in the far corner was a birdcage that could have held a very, very large bird, but instead had two books within it.
Alice tried to read the cover of the books in the birdcage, but the calligraphy on their covers swam and danced and resisted her eyes.
“Some things are not meant to be learned, Disciple Chow. Good afternoon, to you as well.”
Alice tore her eyes away from the cage and the books.
Peak Master Feng sat behind a well-worn wooden desk in a simple wooden chair. Spread along the wall behind him was the man’s own scroll of bamboo sticks with the Skybound Scripture scratched onto it, yellowed with age and study. If the words had been inked onto the sticks as Alice’s own Skybound Scripture was, it had long been worn off.
He was holding up a stack of extra large pieces of parchment in the way someone would hold up a newspaper. Alice imagined Feng glaring at the homeless on a train and struggled not to giggle.
“Busy day, isn’t it, Master Feng?” Alice said, not sure how to start the conversation.
The man gave her a smile which was surely meant to be grandfatherly, but it looked wrong on his youthful face. “Indeed. But you will find that I will always have time for my students, if they have pertinent questions to ask.” He peered at her over the edge of the paper he held up. “You do have a pertinent question for me, do you?”
Alice nodded. “I’ve been having a bit of trouble with my cultivation,” she began.
“You do not cultivate the Skybound Scripture,” said Feng, nodding as he laid the papers flat on his desk. “I am, of course, the best person you could have come to in this sect about esoteric cultivation,” he decided. “Now don’t be offended that I’ve referred to it as such.” Alice wasn’t, and the look on her face made that plainly clear to Feng.
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
“Esoteric is often used in a derogatory way to describe foundations and scriptures that haven’t been canonized as a part of the orthodoxy on the Middle Continent. That is not to say that they aren’t potent, dangerous and potentially better for an individual cultivator than what is more commonly considered good,” he explained.
Alice found the precision of Feng’s words to be comforting.
“So describe your cultivation to me and I will attempt to make sense of it and give you some guidance.”
She nodded. “When I was a young girl, my greatest love was…” she trailed off, but he gave her an encouraging smile. “My greatest love was complicated things,” Alice admitted.
Feng chuckled slightly. “I confess to possessing a fondness for complicated things as well,” he said. His smile showed a flash of his teeth, pearly white and bright.
“In my village, we had many teachers who taught many subjects - some of them well, some of them poorly. I was quite happy,” Alice said, trying to look sad - but not too sad, brave - but not defiant. This was true, she had come from a happy home - even though Alice was glad she was here now.
“There will be an expedition,” rued Peak Master Feng, looking scarier than she’d ever seen him. “Mark my words, the Southern Continent will be liberated,” he hissed. Alice realized this was his attempt to reassure her.
Alice was reminded suddenly that this was a cultivator, in the fifth realm - a step from Uncle Jiang, a force of nature who was old, old, old - older than America, older than Rome, older than China, older than human civilization on earth, who lit his abode with perpetual motion machines and could change the elevation of the ground with the wave of a hand. She held back a shiver - this would be Alice, one day.
“Thank you,” Alice said softly, looking down at her hands. Her thoughts were suddenly drawn to finding out more about the geography of the Southern Continent - if only to make her story more believable.
“Do continue, forgive this old man his musings,” said Feng, who looked concerned that he might have scared her.
Alice nodded. “The complicated thing,” she said, sharing a smile with Feng again, “that I liked the most was music. I learned to play the qin first.” That was technically true - not the guqin, but a western piano. “And then I fell in love - I can play five or six different instruments,” said Alice. Most of them were unavailable on these shores, but that was indeed true. “But what connected all of these instruments for me, and indeed everything I learned, was this idea that behind every song was an idea - behind everything anyone dedicated their life to was a Story.”
She couldn’t help it, the silkworms began to whisper to her again as she finally put the thoughts she’d had into words.
“This is your Principle,” whispered Feng. “It is only polite to offer my own,” he said.
With those words, Alice felt a sudden stretching in the world, in the seams of reality - the way the Sword had descended upon her at the Sword Platform, warning her not to distort the message of the Skybound Scripture for all of the Sword’s students. But this time, Alice let the silkworms crawl wildly, hissingeatingconsuming - because this was how she was to understand Feng’s own Principle, they bit into it, trying to feel the man out.
And Feng bit back.
Retaliation.
When Feng was young, someone had wronged him and he would show himself justice he would-
Alice bit again, provoking the man, she wanted to see this retaliation, she wanted to see this promised uneven response-
Feng slammed his hands on the table. “Disciple Chow!” he admonished.
Alice shook herself.
“We are not here to have a contest of cultivation,” Feng said - his chuckle from before deepened. “I have no doubt you will be a formidable opponent one day, but if we were to fight today, I would erase you from history,” he said, completely sure of himself.
Alice hated Peak Master Feng - but only for a moment.
“The nature of cultivation is strife,” said Feng. “Many of my peers might disagree with me, including at least one of my fellow Peak Masters. But I will caution you to be very careful when you challenge a cultivator who has survived a tribulation - no matter which it was. And to be frank, I should caution those who would be your enemy as well,” he said, still smiling. “When I was just a bit older than you, I had a reputation for the defeat of cultivators above my station - you will surely have the same. But we still have yet to get to the core of the reason why you’re in my office today.”
Alice nodded. “When I formed my foundations, it was with my own Story, played on my guqin,” she said.
“Fascinating,” said Feng. “That must mean you’d sought and discovered your Principle even before you Established.” He sounded excited. “Go on, go on.”
“But I was too curious,” Alice admitted. “You know my closest companion is Disciple Ji - he’s who I arrived at the Sect with,” she said. Feng nodded along. “I tried to replicate his cultivation techniques and-”
“You didn’t,” Feng said, in disbelief, covering his eyes with a hand and sagging into his chair.
It seemed he’d already known what must have happened to her.
“You are suffering from a deviation,” Feng said. “When I tested your qi upon your admission, I thought that was what I’d felt, but I chalked it up to the formation of a Principle in someone so young - of course that would seem deviant to me,” he said, still grinning - but it was more of a grimace. “You’ve tried to form your Core,” Feng guessed.
Alice nodded.
“What occurs when you try?”
Alice shrugged uncomfortably - she didn’t like to discuss this, but this was the easiest way to receive answers. “I black out,” she confessed. “And I bleed, but I’m not sure from where - it comes out of my mouth and sometimes out of my nose.”
“Get on the table,” Feng said, sounding alarmed. “Lay flat.”
Alice took a step towards him.
“The operating table, young miss, not my desk,” Feng said, rolling his eyes and staring up at the ceiling.
“Oh.” She turned around and did as she was told, planting her back firmly on the smooth marble and pushing herself until she was fully on it. The table was warm, rather than cold, as she’d expected.
“When the Beggar of Bei’an dies, I will be considered the greatest doctor on our continent,” said Feng, with that reassuring confidence.
He placed a pair of fingers on her left temple, then her right - Alice heard the vaguest of whispers from them, undoubtedly from the apertures at his fingertips. “No brain injury,” said Feng, relieved. “I was sure that I would have to give bad news to your boyfriend.”
But Feng still looked troubled as he paced from side to side, deep in thought. “You can sit up,” he said.
“What’s wrong with my cultivation?” she asked, fearing the worst.
“That’s the thing,” Feng admitted grudgingly. “I’m not sure.”