Greetings to Huntsman Shin Yau Haisin and Honorable Sectmember Shin Yau Kasina,
It is with immense pleasure that I inform you of your firstborn son’s preliminary approval for early advancement to Jade by unanimous vote. His performance at the Youngest Iron rank tournament was beyond all expectation for one of his age and experience, and objectively qualifying to all those who witnessed it. The fact that he has achieved this on a self designed path only makes his achievement all the more impressive.
Included in the attached scrolls are instructions on where to obtained the cultivation resources set aside for his advancement, his preliminary schedule for consumption of said resources, and the Elders he will be both consulting with on development of his path, and reporting to for inspection of his progress.
We wish your son the best of luck as he advances, and eagerly await word of his future accomplishments.
Regards,
Elder Bae Tin Chousan
P.S. On a more personal note, my wife has expressed both irritation and incredulity at my repeated stories of the delightful dinner you provided on the evening of the tournament. I would consider it a rather large favor if your entire family would accept my invitation to dine at my home this coming week, with young Yujin serving as chef. I would be happy to provide your son with any ingredients, wines, or seasonings he should request, if only so that I may prove my stories are not, in fact, ‘ridiculous exaggerations’. I look forward to discussing the upcoming extended Hunters expedition with you over another delightful meal.
***************************************************
Six-color Foxflame Spider
Primary Madra Aspect: Flame
Secondary Madra Aspect: Mixed
Known to reside in deep caverns, this Spirit Beast has a flaming tail that can generate different flavor of Flame madra. While the number varies, none has ever been encountered with more than six colors, hence its namesake. Each flame color imparts a different property to the flamng webs it weaves to trap its prey. This including poisonous flames, sticky flames, mental flames, icy-
Yujin sighed and re-rolled the scroll he had been reading from. It was his third time going through that particular section of Wren Gu’s Spirit Bestiary. He had been hoping that this reading would lend him additional insight, but had received no such luck.
He carefully refiled the scroll before collecting his sword and training equipment and leaving the sect library. He frowned as he walked, thinking over everything he’d re-read.
His progression towards Jade had been progressing at a steady, if accelerated, pace since his family had hosted the Elders for dinner after his tournament victory. The resources allocated to him for his victory and well hosted dinner had leapfrogged his progress through Iron well past anyone else his age.
Unfortunately for Yujin, being the author of his own path meant that no one else could tell him what the next step was. And as his advancement through Iron was proceeding so quickly, the sect Elders overseeing his progress expected him to have a plan for his advancement to Gold before he ever reached Jade. An advancement Yujin had assumed would take several years, as was the standard for all non-tournament winners. A group Yujin had very much expected himself to belong to.
But was it really his fault his fellow Iron peers had such poor swordsmanship?
Focus. Yujin shook his head. It was pointless to complain about the past now.
He needed to figure out his Path after Jade. Not all the details, but he had to have a direction. With his blade and flame aspected core, that at least gave him a general sense of where to begin his search. The only issue was, no matter how many scrolls he poured over, he couldn’t find something that felt right. Though to be fair, he had technically based his entire Path around his desire to prepare food, and he’d never even heard a someone joke about a Spirit Beast that cooked.
Of course, if we were considering Remnants of beings that cooked…
Yujin shuddered, unable to even complete the thought. The idea of taking in a past Sacred Artist’s Remnant filled him with a deep sense of unease, no matter how common a practice it actually was. His instincts had guided him every step of his Path so far, and Yujin wasn’t about to start ignoring them now. Which meant any human Remnant was out.
Which left him with… no realistic options.
Yujin began to consider his more unrealistic choices, such as wondering what sort of argument might convince the sect Elders to purchase vast quantities of Gold-ranked Spirit Beast meat for his consumption, when a shoulder collided with his chest hard enough to knock him to the ground.
“Hey! What’s the matter with you?” Yujin looked up in the malicious gaze of Dishi Baetong. “I’d expect the winner of the Irons tournament to have a better sense of awareness. Running into fellow Sacred Artists in the middle of the street? Disgraceful.”
Yujin looked up incredulously at Dishi, thoughts still filled with Spirit Beasts and A shoulder he had been certain was several feet to his right and nowhere near hitting him. It seemed like something of an overreaction to an accidental collision. Especially as Yujin was the one who had ended up on the ground.
And that Dishi didn’t actually seem that upset. In fact, he actually looked like he was enjoying himself.
And that Dishi wasn’t alone. Several of his friends were close enough behind him that they could have steadied him, or warned him or Yujin of the accident. Although they were spreading out around Yujin now.
And that, thinking back, Dishi and his attached shoulder had been several feet to Yujin’s right and nowhere near hitting him seconds before their collision.
And that Dishi Baetong was from a prestigious family, and should have be taught to be more polite with people he’d never interacted with before. Although Yujin had met him once, in the quarter finals of the tournament he’d won.
And that Dishi had lost.
Like a key turning, the situation finally clicked into place.
Yujin found all thoughts of his path and even tonight’s dinner gone, replaced only with increasing trepidation and a sour pit in his stomach.
This was a suppression. He was being suppressed! Yujin had heard stories about this, when less connected members of the sect did too well for themselves, and their jealous sectmates took it upon themselves to take them down a few pegs. Keep them from getting ideas above their station or advancing too quickly.
But that wasn’t something that happened to him!
Yujin was a middle of the class trainee who had trouble focusing during his cultivation exercises! That never stood out from the pack! Who’s father was a mid-level Huntsman without any powerful connections! Who had just won a sect wide tournament with his self designed path…
And had charmed a large number of powerful Elders at a dinner they had clearly wanted to leave early before the food was served…
And who had just been approved for one of the most rapidly accelerated advancements in the Flowing Blade Sect’s history.
Yujin lay there, gaping up at the young scion of one of the wealthiest, most socially powerful families in the entire sect. Someone who had decided that he, Yujin, was a legitimate threat to his status within the sect as a whole. And Yujin realized that while he might still think of himself as that young middling cultivator, the rest of the sect no longer agreed with that assessment.
“Nothing to say for yourself? Not even a stammered apology?” Dishi shook his head and tutted. “Well, I don’t know about the rest of you, but I believe the behavior of members of the Flowing Blade Sect should be held to a higher standard than that. I do believe our young junior needs a few pointers in the respect due his fellow Sacred Artists. Let’s take a walk.”
**********************************************
“Senior, a moment of your time!” Dishi called out across the sparring court.
Yujin paled as Dishi’s cronies crowded him even more closely, preventing even a chance of running. An option he’d dismissed earlier for reasons he now realized were quite flawed.
As they’d walked through the streets, Yujin’s initial panic had settled. It wasn’t as if they were going to kill him, or even fight him all at once. The sect looked the other way for minor cases of suppression or bullying, reasoning it would only motivate the weak to strive harder to advance, and those who gave up from it didn’t have what it takes to advance anyway. They did not ignore assaulting someone in a five-on-one fight. And Yujin had literally just proven he could fight as well or better than any other Iron in the sect, which settled his nerves as he was steered toward the sparring grounds.
All of this should have kept Yujin calm through any one-on-one exchange of “pointers”, but did not. After all, sect member currently crossing the court at Dishi’s call wasn’t an Iron. He was a Jade.
“Ah, Junior Baetong. What a pleasant surprise to see you here this afternoon.” The Jade’s tone was calm and without malice. “I was just finishing my swordwork training regimen. What brings you here today?”
“I am forced here on a matter of sect honor, Senior.” Dishi’s voice was neither calm nor without malice. “A fellow Iron disciple of the sect has demonstrated a most pointed lack of respect, in direct contravention of our Honored Ancestor’s decrees on proper decorum. My friends and I were compelled to insist on a chance to correct this behavior.”
“I see.” The Jade’s eyes flicked over to Yujin, “Well, as your Senior, I could hardly let you be the ones to instruct a deficient disciple while I’m present and have no pressing business. Allow me to assist in correcting this misbehavior.”
Which was how Yujin found himself raising his blade against a Senior disciple an entire stage beyond his own. Naturally, no one would believe this to be a fair exchange of pointers, which was why his Senior was wielding a wooden practice sword, and Yujin his actual weapon. Just enough to even the scales, supposedly, and give this entire spar an air of legitimacy.
Yujin exhaled, braced himself for what was to come, and watched for his opponent’s first move.
And found himself landing on the far side of the arena, hard, without seeing anything more than a blur.
And then landing on the other far side of the arena. Hard.
And landing again.
And again.
Hard.
Until, tasting blood and arms shaking, Yujin found he did not have the will to rise back up for another exchange of pointers.
“I believe the lesson has been learned.” The Jade who’s name Yujin had either never managed to catch or been knocked out of his thoroughly rattled skull, leaned over Yujin’s crouched and bruised form. “Respect is something that should be kept in one’s mind at all times. Especially in relation to one’s betters, and wasting their time and efforts. Perhaps you’ll remember this lesson the next time you host a little dinner party for people far beyond your station.”
Yujin idly noticed his opponent carefully avoiding the fresh blood splatters on the arena floor as the words slowly sunk in.
Dinner party? Yujin struggled to process it. This is because I cooked a dinner people didn’t want to leave? Not because I won a tournament, or was doing well in my advancement. I was beaten… because I cooked better than a rich family? Because they were embarrassed.
And Yujin found that he did have the will to stand up again.
He also found a great deal of anger to accompany that will.
“SENIOR!” Yujin barely recognized his own voice. He didn’t even remember the last time he’d shouted. “This disciple does not feel that he has sufficiently learned his lesson yet. He requests another exchange of pointers, that he may do better!”
And Yujin, for the first time in the fight, sank deeply into his Iron body’s enhancements, and truly looked at his opponent. And listened, and smelled.
Time seemed to almost slow as the Jade turned, his training robes rustling, an almost imperceptible twitch of the lips for a suppressed smirk. A tightening of the eyes in anticipation. A faint sting to his scent, which Yujin had learned to associate with excitement.
Yujin saw.
The tensing in the Jade’s left leg and right arm, a straight thrust to his chest.
Yujin was moving a hair before the Jade, lifting his sword and leaning, running a hair of sword madra along its edge. He couldn’t move far enough to avoid a bruising scrape along his chest, but for the first time in the fight, Yujin drew blood in return.
The cheers along the sides of the court ended, but Yujin only had ears for his opponent. There was no time to turn but he heard the bunching of the Jade’s robes, fabric in the armpit, high swing to his head. Yujin ducked and counter spun, once again landing a light strike across the Jade’s midriff.
Yujin heard his father’s voice when he was taken hunting.
“Remember that Spirit Beasts will be faster and stronger. Learn to anticipate their movements. Lead the arrow, lay the sword along their path. Do it right, and they’ll do half the work for you.”
Another dodge as the Jade practically ran himself along the edge of Yujin’s sword, all he needed was the right angle and the knowledge of what was about to happen.
The Jade sped up, beginning a movement technique but it didn’t matter. Yujin smelled his confusion and anger, saw the way his eyes tracked their future path. The key was not cutting too deeply.
The kitchen knife filleted the duck breast and wing almost too easily, sword madra eliminating almost all resistance. He carefully separated joint from hip, meat from bone. Cutting too deeply would ruin the beauty of the meal’s eventual presentation, not to mention cross contaminate flavors.
Yujin knew he couldn’t cut too deep. This was a ‘practice match’ after all, but he was still fighting a Jade. He was inferior in strength, endurance, and durability. Yet watching, truly watching, was all he needed to prepare his opponent for defeat as easily as any other cut of meat. He drew his sword along tendons and stabbed joints, slice by slice removing his ability to continue fighting. Threw arcs of flame across the Jade’s eye line to distract and confuse, or just sear him with enough heat to make him flinch and miss.
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Years of practice in the kitchen had made it child’s play to wield flame and sword madra in conjunction or separately, while simultaneously retaining control of a bladed instrument. This Jade didn’t even seem to have the sect’s formal swordwork mastered yet. Yujin leaned out of another increasingly desperate swing and drew a flame coated sword along his opponent’s hand.
“You walk a path that has never been walked, yet you already know it.” Elder Lai paced as he lectured during one of their private sessions. “It will be the culmination of your experiences and training. A path that you simultaneously discover, but already know deep inside. Your Path. When it is right, it will be as if the Heavens themselves guide you. When trod incorrectly…”
Yujin gasped as his sword halted, snapping out of a state of mind he had no words to describe. The point of his blade was inches from the Jade’s eye. The disarmed, blood soaked Jade, who stared up in horror and shock from the ground.
Yujin had won.
“This Junior thanks you for your pointers, Senior.” Yujin heard his voice but felt as if someone else were using it. “I will meditate on your lessons well.”
He clasped both hands around the hilt of his sword, bowed to the panting Jade, and strode over to his bag at the side of the court. Neither Dishi nor any of his friends stopped him from collecting them, or from quickly leaving.
Yujin strode with purpose and speed, but refused to run. Why should he? He’d won. So why did he feel numb and cold, despite being drenched in sweat?
He only made it a few blocks before having to duck into an alley. He leaned against the stone wall, legs shaking, replaying the events of the fight in his mind. What had happened? He’d just destroyed a Jade in a straight up fight. That didn’t happen. Granted, his opponent’s form had honestly been fairly subpar, but his stage of advancement should have nullified any advantage in technique Yujin possessed.
Did I just discover my path? Yujin wondered. Is this what a proper Iron body can do? Is all the training paying off? Should I be meditating on that effortless sensation right now, trying to learn to use it at will?
The fight replayed through Yujin’s mind again. The way he almost toyed with someone so much stronger than him. Relished in his righteous anger as a bully received his just rewards. And Yujin had seen it all. The fear in his eyes, every gasp of pain, the smokey, bitter smell of seared flesh and panic as Yujin’s sword-
Yujin barely managed to drop his bag and make it to the other side of the alley before vomiting. It poured out of him, bile and blood and just a bit of fried rice he’d had for lunch. He’d seen it all, every detail of what he’d done to his opponent. His Iron Body wouldn’t have let him miss a moment.
Is this my path? Yujin wondered for the second time. Is this what the rest of my life looks like?
*********************************************
Haisin picked up on the mood of the house the moment he walked in.
There was a silence that he knew wasn’t right. Sizzling and delicious scents drifted out of the kitchen, but it only served to underline the lack of laughter and voices. No Kasina wheedling at her son for what happened that day. No Yujin describing exactly what he would be doing differently with tonight’s dinner. Even Kasina’s singsong child babble wasn’t there, as she sensed the mood of her mother and brother.
Of course, Haisin had been expecting something like this the moment he’d confirmed the rumors tearing through the Huntsman’s Hall. It had almost been a fight to be the first to ask Haisin if it was true. As if his relation to Yujin negated the fact that he’d been outside the walls of the sect since dawn.
Kasina glanced over at him, and years of marriage filled in the need for words. Haisin set aside his sword and made his way into the kitchen.
“What’s for dinner?”
Haisin had asked Yujin that question hundreds of times over the years since he had begun cooking but never with so little enthusiasm. Haisin found that even the elegant dance of knives and fire, madra and aura that made up his son’s cultivation exercises brought him less joy than usual. For while the technique and execution of both cycling and cooking were flawless, their movements lacked any passion. The day’s events were clearly weighing on his son heavily.
“Stir fried rice with onions and wind aura spirit beast flesh. A herd of those Braying Geese migrated by south of here yesterday, so the meat’s fresh. Sides are egg drop soup, pickled radish, diced fireshoots, and fried tofu strips. Only sweet dipping sauces this evening, as the chili oil turned this morning.”
Yujin rattled off the meal in seconds, as if reciting the memorized words of the First Patriarch when quizzed by an Elder.
“Mmm.” Haisin leaned against the doorframe. “That sounds wonderful.”
Yujin didn’t respond, his blade madra continuing its smooth curves on the board next to him, through carrots and squashes that became more floral with every cut. His son would carve entire bouquets of vegetables to decorate the meals to practice his fine madra control. His madra ruled flames remained perfectly even, demonstrating just how successfully that practice had been. Normally they would flicker, at the least, especially when talking. Haisin tried to remember the last time his son hadn’t responded with a smile and chatter to a compliment about his cooking. Nothing came to mind.
Haisin sighed. He really wasn’t cut out for this. His Yuji was the talker of the family. He’d made that very clear when he’d begun courting her with a nearly monosyllabic first date. The foolish woman had loved him anyway, which was why he needed to step up now. She’d talked for the both of them for most of the marriage but this was one conversation she couldn’t have.
Yuji had never worked her way up through the Flowing Blade Sect’s hierarchy. She hadn’t lived it like him. Hadn’t had to deal with the underbelly true Sacred Artists waded through daily. Haisin had, did, and would continue to do so for his family.
So he started with the cleaner truths. Simpler ones.
“I’m proud of you.” Haisin said.
Yujin straightened and looked over his shoulder, the silver madra in the air continuing their dance, wearing a puzzled, bemused smile. “Why? It’s just dinner.”
“True. But there’s a reason not a day goes by that someone doesn’t mention business we should be discussing over dinner at my house.” Haisin smiled back, sadly. “Also, it isn’t every day that an unblooded Iron treats a Jade of the Flowing Blade Sect like a punching bag that insulted his mother.”
Yujin’s expression froze, along with all three of his blade madra “Striker” techniques.
“You heard about that?”
“I think I’d be hard pressed to name someone who hasn’t at this point. You know how well rumors travel here.” Haisin said. “You know what they say about us around the city. ‘The only thing swifter than a Flowing Blade swordsman is word of a Flowing Blade scandal’.”
“I thought it was, ‘The only thing faster than a Flowing Blade sword is their tongue’?”
“Uh, no.” Haisin shifted uncomfortably. “That means something else. Don’t say it that way. Anyway, I’m certain most of the sect knows by now. I was mobbed by gossips asking if it was true. That my son picked a fight with an upper rank Jade, then beat him so badly he had to kowtow and beg for mercy.”
“Oh.” Yujin looked down. “Well, it is. True, I mean. Sort of. I mean, the story isn’t right, but I did beat him. Although, he beat me pretty good too. Which I suppose isn’t really that surprising and I did get back up but only after a whileandthenitgotkindof-”
Haisin crossed the kitchen and silenced his son with a hand to his shoulder.
“I know.” Haisin squeezed. “I know you beat him, because I’ve seen you fight. I also know you didn’t get off easy, considering you’re favoring your left leg, your breathing is shallow like you’ve bruised a rib, and that you fought someone a full level above you. No one wins a fight like that easily. And I know you stood your ground, did your best, and showed them all just how special you are. I know that because I’m your father, and I’m so proud of the man you are becoming.”
Yujin stayed silent as Haisin pressed on, knowing his was beginning to ramble and repeat.
“I know you didn’t make him kowtow because that’s not the kind of man I’ve raised. I know you didn’t pick that fight, because you’ve never picked a fight in your entire life. I know you were ambushed by a group of spoiled children who pretend to be Sacred Artists. And I know those same children bullied you into having to fight a dishonorable son of a dreadbeast who pretends to be a your senior disciple.”
Yujin’s eyes widened at hearing his father curse, however mildly. Haisin hesitated then, wanting to lie and protect his son for just a bit longer. But he knew Sacred Artists rise through tribulation, both physical and spiritual.
“I know all this happened to you because it happened to me, when I was your age, and it will happen again to you, and me, and to Kasi, if she follows our path.” Haisin sighed and let his hand drop. “It’s the nature of our world. To cultivate oneself in the Sacred Arts is to struggle. To fight for limited resources against everyone, even your allies and family, rise to the peak, and challenge even the Heavens themselves.
“There will be many unworthy and dishonorable Sacred Artists on your path. They will fight with every advantage they have, including numbers, wealth and brute force, to try and keep you from success. Because they cannot see that pushing others down does not elevate themselves. And because they know, deep down, that if they were to fight a true Sacred Artist fairly, they would lose. That is something you’ve proven again to them today.
“It’s something you’re going to have to keep proving, even once you reach Jade, or Gold. We aren’t wealthy or powerful as a family, so things like this will keep happening. And the sect Elders will let this keep happening, because it helps train and toughen the future leaders of this very Sect. So I’m sorry, this will happen again, even if I don’t know when or how, but I promise your family will be here when it’s over.”
Haisin stared at his son, refusing to look away as Yujin’s eyes slowly filled with water. He refused to call them tears so long as his son refused to cry. Haisin didn’t know if he’d said the right thing. All he had was what his father had told him, tempered with just a bit of what he wished his father had said in this moment.
“Father, I-” Yujin choked, “Dad, I hurt him.”
“What?” Haisin frowned.
“Dad, I hurt that Jade. He’d beaten me, and then he leaned over and said… Well, it doesn’t matter but he mocked me. And I just got so angry.” Yujin’s words began to speed up again, as they always did when he was upset. “So I got up, and I just let my anger tell me what to do. And I saw everything I needed. I saw how to move. I saw how to win. And then…”
Yujin took a deep breath.
“And then I saw what I’d done to him. I hurt him, Dad. I cut him and I beat him and I made him regret it. I saw his pain and smelled his fear and I liked it.” Yujin whispered. “I made him bleed and I liked it. I don’t like that I liked it. I don’t like hurting people. I don’t know what, I don’t know…”
In a burst of motion, Yujin seized his father and buried his face into his robes.
Haisin laid his hand on his son’s head and let him cry.
***************************************
Later that evening, after all the tears, and a subdued but still delicious dinner, Haisin sat alone at the table, contemplating on his son’s words. Not the reassurances that came later, or the forced humor followed by real laughter as the fight had slipped further and further away. Haisin thought about the first thing his son had said.
Dad, I hurt him.
I don’t like hurting people.
Simple words, and a simple truth. A man shouldn’t enjoy inflicting pain. It was a reassuring thing to hear from one’s son. To know they understand the duty of the strong not to abuse their power like so many others.
So why did those words instead make him feel uneasy?
Something about the way Yujin had said it. Like it had a deeper meaning. Like he was trying to tell Haisin something but didn’t have the words.
Like father, like son.
“I’m so proud of my husband.” Yuji slipped her arms around him from behind, leaning into him. “You were a good father today. You found the words you needed, just like you always do.”
“Not always.” Haisin smiled. “But when it counts, I can try.”
“You did more than try.” She gave him a chaste peck on the cheek. Then a less chaste one. “I’m off to put Kasina down with a story. Don’t stay up too late basking in your verbal triumph.”
Haisin frowned as she let him go. Should he ask?
“Ji-ji?” Haisin said.
“Hmm?” Yuji looked back.
“Was there something… off?” Haisin tried to find the words. “About Yujin. What he said? About…”
“Haisin, he’s still a child. One who just had a traumatic day.” Yuji’s brow furrowed. “He probably won’t even remember what he said. He just needed to let out everything he was holding inside. You did well, and so did he. Don’t over think it.”
But Haisin still couldn’t let it go. So he sat there, thinking on his son’s words.
I don’t like hurting people.
He had said that. But that wasn’t what it sounded like. It had sounded like…
I don’t want to hurt people.
**********************************************
The next day Yujin found himself once again back at the library, pouring over scrolls written by people he’d never met, describing fantastic beasts he’d never seen.
Blueflame Maned Lionness
Primary Madra Aspect: Flame
Secondary Madra Aspect: Spiritual/Intangible
An offshoot branch of the Redflame Lions, this subspecies only ever produces female children from any coupling. The distinctive blue flames of their mane make them easily distinguishable from their cousins. The blue fires are the core component of all their techniques, much like the Redflame Lions. However, the blue flames have been reported as significantly more painful when struck, burning both flesh and madra channels of the spirit.
The blue flames also move in a significantly more fluid manner than their red counterparts. They have been documented as having been used as whips, chains and-
Yujin sighed and let the scroll roll closed. He’d re-read the Blueflame Maned Lionness passage five times already and yet everything he read continued to slip through his mind unconsidered. He simply couldn’t focus today.
Every time Yujin tried to focus on the description of another Spirit Beast, or Natural Treasure, or even the sympathetic words of a librarian, he remembered the fight. The way the disbelief slowly turned into fear in the Jade’s eyes. The taste of fear and adrenaline in the air. The smell of blood and sweat and steel.
The way living flesh parted under a blade. Just like a haunch of pork or boar, yet still somehow so much more visceral. And it wasn’t like he’d never cut a living thing before.
Yujin had been hunting. His father had insisted on it, even though his aptitude was middling before he’d gained his Iron body. He’d tracked, shot, and ended the pain of several beasts, both spirit and otherwise. Hells below, he’d even cut opponents in spars before, while intentionally avoiding blows that were too serious or fatal. Yet yesterday had still been different.
Yesterday, Yujin had meant it when he fought, and that had made all the difference in the world.
This isn’t fair. He covered his face in frustration, trying to scrub out the images and failing. He hadn’t asked for the fight, or even wanted it. Yes, it had been nice seeing Dishi flinch away from him on the street, or heard the whispers with hearing far sharper than people thought. But all that at the cost of inflicting pain. It was too high a price. Or at least, a price Yujin couldn’t figure out how to pay.
His instructors had always told them the importance of practice. How repeating a motion would make it smoother, stronger, and, eventually, effortless. Yujin knew that if he asked how to deal with the guilt and distress, they would tell him the same thing. To practice, until it wasn’t so hard anymore.
Except Yujin knew, deep down into his madra channels and slowly developing core, that he wouldn’t get used to it.
Not like I have a choice though. Yujin chucked to himself softly. It isn’t as if I could have won that fight any other way. How would you win a fight without hurting someone?
Yujin sat in the silence of the library, as a curious emotion grew inside his chest. It was the strangest sensation, unlike anything he’d ever felt before, except once. The feeling of an entirely new idea taking root in his mind. A fire being kindled in a cold unlit stove.
The next step in a path being revealed as in front of him the entire time.
No, actually, that’s a real question. How would I win a fight without actually hurting my opponent.
Yujin pondered that as he returned the scroll to it’s place in the Bestiary section of the library. He wasn’t getting anything out of the scroll anyway, and he doubted he’d be able to even learn about new fire aspected Spirit Beasts in his current state of mind. Better to just put it back and…
Yujin paused as the scroll slid back into its cubby, and then turned to the right, heading deeper into the Bestiary archives. To a completely different section.
It didn’t take long to find what he was looking for. The library was kept meticulously organized, yet another tenet taught by the sect’s revered founders. Yujin returned to his table, arms filled with a dozen scrolls.
Picking the first at random, Yujin began to read.
Amethyst Dustwing Butterfly
This Spirit Beast is notoriously reclusive, only ever being spotted within well shaded forests, or caves extending at least half a li in length. Their amethysts coloring blends well into shadows, and the dust their wings emit is an amplifier to both their Shadow and Dream madra. Their techniques primarily focus on illusions and inflicted confusion, enabling escaping or incapacitation of distracted enemies.
Yujin’s smile grew as he continued reading.
*******************************************
It was less than a year later that Shin Yau Yujin underwent his third formal advancement ceremony and smoothly transition from Iron to Jade in the presence of his family, friends, and a number of overseeing Elders.
A strangely high number of Elders, in fact. Although, that was hardly surprising, as Yujin, one of the youngest in sect history to be approved for Jade advancement, was considered a rising star, alongside his father, a Huntsman currently being groomed for promotion within the sect’s hunting division. In an unrelated side note, all attendees of the ceremony were extended an invitation to attend a private celebratory dinner at the Shin Yau household, prepared by none other than the rising star himself.
No one declined the invitation.
It was a fantastic meal, rumored to have been even better than the legendary ‘Tournament Feast’. Wine and laughter flowed almost as fast as the endless waves of food pouring from the overworked kitchen. A number of Elders even stepped in to observe the young genius’ self designed cycling method, training even while cooking.
It was a good night.
Rumors abounded across the sect the following day. Three drunken Elders professing an inappropriate level of admiration for the matriarch of the Shin Yau household. Assassins from rival sects and jealous Flowing Blade Sect families stymied by the overabundance of Elders attending. Attempts to crash the party by patriarchs of both the Baetong and Chouyang families ending in humiliating failure.
Those and countless others, some true, some not, dancing back and forth across the sect like a million dueling truths.
However, for all the innumerable rumors spawned from every interaction, one fact failed to appear even once on any tongue. It was simply too strange, unbelieveable, and utterly mundane.
After all, with so many other scandalous, exciting, or flavorful occurences that evening, who would care to gossip about, or even notice, that while the young genius performed his now infamous ‘Chef’s Cycling Technique’ with two types of madra, a third would occasionally slip into the mix. So surreptitiously that it was almost certainly a temporary slip in other wise perfect control. Most peculiar, considering the greatly enhanced senses and control of vital aura that advancement to Jade brought.
So little that even, if the now swirling core were closely inspected, it could be missed.
Dimmer than the silver blade madra, harvested from the aura of his impeccably sharpened knives.
Covered over by the searing orange flickers flame madra, cycled from from the kitchen fires’ vital aura.
Just the slightest whisp of purple. Dream madra, ever so cautiously collected and cycled from the aura of his guests. The overabundant vital aura of enjoyment, satisfaction, and other emotions that filled their souls and clouded the room with every bite of his food.