Jiendao’s explosive – shocking, one could say, if one were willing to stomach the pun – awakening was short-lived. After a few minutes of lucidity, mostly spent with an emotionally-overcharged scholar plastered to her side, Jiendao laid back and entered another, much more natural unconsciousness.
Lu spent those joyful, tear-filled minutes slumped to the side, fighting his own battle against sleep. He looked on with a smile as Lan fussed over his partner, Jiendao enduring his clinging with tired amusement; for her, she had been asleep for only a moment, and his reaction must have appeared quite overblown in the face of her last injury.
“A word, Sir Lu?” said a smooth voice, sliding past his ears from somewhere behind, his barely-awake mind likening the sound to melted butter.
“Hm? Ah, Ban Do. Pardon, I didn’t notice you.” Actually, I might not have recognised you if I had.
His third human disciple had changed drastically; where before he was plain and nervous, his face covered over with homogeneous white, the man standing before him now had a certain playful haughtiness to his bearing, complemented well by the vivid red on his lips and around each eye. His drab robes had been switched out for a set that, while still martial in cut, as least had some character to them; green and golden brown, they invoked the sombre beauty of autumn without dissolving into the background like many earthen tones threatened to. It was quite flattering, both in the sense that he looked good, and in that he was obviously aping his master’s style.
“Understandable. How long have you been working, senior brother?”
“Oh, just a few hours.” He was forced to stifle a yawn. “But it was quite a long few hours. I’m afraid I won’t be able to perform the procedure on you or the others without at least a couple days’ rest.” And we’ll have to coordinate with the Elders as well; they have their own duties, and the other three are less far along than Jiendao was, so there isn’t much urgency.
The man blinked. “We’ll be receiving it as well? Was this whole matter not the result of a strange injury?”
“No- well, the half-healed scar across her whole body certainly didn’t help-” Lu cut himself off, shaking his head. He was tempted to cast Numbing Illusion for a moment to clear the fog from his brain, but that seemed like the start of an unwise habit. He spoke again, this time with clearer words. “No, the injury was only a catalyst. The same will happen to you three if you continue your consumption – I’ll explain what exactly was wrong with her at a later time. Sorry, but I am simply done for today…”
Ban Do’s eyes trailed down his slumped body, and he nodded. “Yes, I can see that. Unfortunately…” An apologetic smile. “I can’t let you rest just yet. I have a message from Sir Guanyin.”
Lu started as he realised his head had been lowering towards the floor, and he forced his spine to straighten. You’re near the peak of third realm, Lu! Maintain some dignity! “From Bull?”
“Yes. Shall I wait until another day? You seem about to tip over at the first breeze.”
“No, no, go ahead.” Ah, Bull. For all that you tease me about my dislike of the clerks, you spend easily twice the effort avoiding the medical wing. Do you think your prized scars will turn to dust the moment you get within shouting distance of a healer?
Ban Do wet his lips. “Apparently he’s finished some task you set him? His exact words were ‘Go tell Lu I’ve gotten everything in order. I could only get permission to leave for the next three weeks, so don’t dawdle too long!’” His impression of Bull was actually startlingly good; his voice was too high, but he nailed the tone exactly. “Going on a trip, Sir Lu?”
“Yes.” Three weeks. Not nearly the worst outcome I could have expected. But if I want to make the best use of it, I’ll have to leave first thing in the morn… ing… The thought trailed off as another wave of fatigue lapped at the shores of his mind. …I’ll have to leave the day after tomorrow. No later. “Thank you for telling me. You’ve been doing well?”
“Splendidly, senior brother.” His smile widened. “Just splendidly. I haven’t a single thing to complain about.”
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Ban Do watched the young man give his tired regards to the Elders – Aiya Yu simply nodded, while Persimmon exchanged actual words, a kindly look on his face; he filed the knowledge that Lu was well-liked by the array master away in the back of his mind – before all but staggering off. With a small shake of his head he turned to Hom How, his gaze lowering to see the other child genius of their little group painting the scene that had occurred a quarter-hour ago; Jiendao, bright lightning issuing from her mouth, the two Elders and Lu caught in expressions of mild concern and horror respectfully.
Their master’s face especially seemed to jump off the page, a few thin lines of ink transmuting the low-quality paper into shining skin and silky hair. Some arcane trick even managed to imply his robes were a bright and lively blue, a feat that Ban Do did not understand in the least. There isn’t a shred of qi in it, no illusion or colour-changing spell. I don’t know his exact age, but he can’t be more than sixty; is this what they call once-in-a-generation talent?
“Will you be returning home now that things are done, brother How?”
The man paused, his expression becoming a different flavour of thoughtful. “Not right away, I don’t think. Someone will have to convince Sir Lan to return to his own rooms; he’s been here every hour of the day since he got back.”
Ah, more compassion. From any other man I’d consider it overly sweet, but with your cute frame such a naive demeanour seems fitting. “With his woman cured, surely there’s no cause for concern?”
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
“You would think that, but I’m afraid that if he isn’t removed from her side for a few hours at least, she’ll awaken to him doing something a bit… over the top.”
Before Ban Do could reply with anything more than a raised brow, the subject of their conversation himself approached their little corner with a heavy trudge. Lan sat with a primness entirely at odds with the almost boneless way he had moved across the room, before immediately sinking to rest his arms on the cleared-away countertop.
“Ah, senior brother Lan. We were just talking about you.”
The man’s head raised at the sound of Ban Do’s voice, while Hom How sent a pained look from across the scholar’s far side. “Oh?”
“Yes, I was wondering if you would consider joining us on a little training exercise? Sir Lu will be indisposed, and you’re easily the second most knowledgeable scholar of Salt.” He placed his arm on the other man’s shoulder. “Would you consider giving me some more pointers? I respect my teacher more than words can convey, but he is, sometimes, not the most articulate of teachers. No experience, you see.”
Lan blinked, his eyes not nearly as bright as a man of his realm’s should be. “Perhaps? No, I should wait for Jiendao to wake up.”
His hand tightened, hopefully enough that the inner disciple could feel comforted. “Sir Lan, you’ve been by her side for a fortnight. I’m sure Jiendao would enjoy a little time to herself! Besides, Elder Yu will have everything under control; I doubt she’ll want you hovering in the background.”
The man’s lips pursed. In the background, Hom How’s pained expression deepened. Sir How, you may be good at recalling expressions, but it seems you’re less adroit at understanding them. This requires a firmer hand; trust me just a little. “Well… I’ll consider it. I simply refuse to leave until I’ve seen her properly awake.” His worry cracked, just enough to let relief shine through. “Talk to me again tomorrow morning.”
Good enough. Ban Do’s hands came together in a clap – softly, of course, as was appropriate for a place of healing. “It’s a plan. Come along, senior brother; let’s allow the lovebirds a moment alone, yes?”
Now it was Hom How’s turn to blink. “I don’t recall agreeing to leave with you..?”
“And yet now that I’ve suggested it, I’m sure you see the wisdom.” Forms spooled out in his mind, and he added in the barest of whispers, “[And you need to sleep too, don’t you? Don’t think I can’t see the circles under your eyes.]” Ah, my first second realm spell since the incident. Hopefully I didn’t bungle it; it would entirely ruin the moment for How to have failed to hear me.
To his hidden relief a touch of colour graced Hom How’s cheeks. “…As Sir Lan said, I’ll consider it.”
Ban Do raised his brow, and the mortal How was forced to look away in embarrassment. “Well, fine. I suppose I’ll have to keep the two-” A grunt from outside his field of vision, “-Three, pardon, the three of you company. If only for this final stretch.” Though it looks like I won’t have to cajole the alien to sleep. Seriously, why is he the most reasonable person in the room?
“There’s really no need for that,” said Lan.
“Though of course, we’re grateful for the thought,” added Hom How.
The lump on a nearby table – is he really already asleep? No, he has to be faking, it’s too comically timed to be anything other than deliberate – let out a snore, And Ban Do could only sigh. Maybe I should go and fetch Kai. This room could use at least one forceful personality to get everyone else in line.
“No trouble, no trouble. Jiendao is my senior sister too, remember?” His smile twisted. “Though I really think she would want you to take a little time for yourself, brother Lan. Take a page from Sir Lu’s book, and know where your limits lie.”
Something between a grunt and a hum. “There’s no need to worry. I’m not nearly as bad as that – and I’ve seen him worse off, anyway. Did you know he got spirit stone sickness earlier this year?”
Hom How, caught off-guard by the change in topic, swallowed the bait. “Spirit stone sickness? Did he miss the lessons on how to avoid that, somehow?”
“Well, remember that Lu’s initiation was over a decade ago, much of it spent in the first realm. I’m sure it simply slipped his mind.”
Ban Do’s head moved to the side. “Still, I can’t imagine he was that much worse. He didn’t even congratulate me on ascending to second realm.”
Both men turned to him, surprise on their faces. Lan’s spectacles slid down his nose. “You did? You did! Congratulations, junior brother!”
“Ah, I didn’t notice either. You’re tied with brother Hiien, now.”
Ban Do could only look at them both incredulously. “Really, you too? You both need to go home and sleep this off, I’m serious.” A particularly loud snore punctuated his statement. “See? Sir Cobo agrees with me.”
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Lu hadn’t slept as a habit for quite some time, but despite that fact, he found that his body remembered the feeling of his mattress and pillow rather vividly. With only soft candlelight illuminating the room and a heavy cover draped over his body, it was like he had been transported back to those lazy days where his only troubles were romantic failure and Bull’s incessant training sessions.
As he drifted away, those memories filled his head.
…And so it was no great surprise, when he opened his eyes to a dreamy recreation of the training grounds.
Bull was across from him, less a human figure than a blob of ideas. The dream Bull was like dreams usually were; Lu knew that he was Bull, because it was his dream. The fact that what he saw in his mind’s eye was a vague outline of hazy colours was immaterial – his brain said it was Bull, and so it was.
The dream played out, skipping over the simulated fight for the most part in favour of replaying key moments with minor variations. Lu was hit, rewound, dodged the hit, rewound, was hit slightly differently than the first time. There was little sensation; again, that dream logic, his mind supplying absolute knowledge where sensation failed.
It was neither a good nor bad dream, as far as Lu’s opinion on the matter was concerned. The fight had no end, cutting abruptly to him confessing to Suu Li, then again to the bathhouse before he could be either rejected or, since this was a dream, receive her confession in turn.
Class with Instructor Gin, haggling with Old Man Jinka until his hair turned grey and his teeth fell out, walking the halls against a sea of faceless mannequins in colourless robes.
Time stretched backwards, and he grew shorter, his body thinning and then filling out again with the faint muscles of a farmboy. Subtly sneering faces were replaced by respect, childish and genuine. Sparks danced in the palms of his hands, magic, real magic shining in his mind brighter than the full moon.
He held a pick, listlessly cracking stone. A scalpel, listening to the frog croak as his face turned a green to match its skin. Stood in front of a bulky cauldron, eagerly watching the powders he added transform into glistening pills while dreading the next round of preparation it took to make them.
Stood in a field, a sword in his hand. The smallest hint of lucidity crept into his mind, allowing conscious thought. No, let’s not relive the duel. Skip, skip!
Pouring copper into a mould, time blurring until the crude rifle was in his hands, the pill and bullet added, the hammer descending. Ah, I remember this one. I tried to scale it up, but the thickness of the barrel was off, and…
On cue, the firearm burst apart- but unlike the rest of the dream, when scraps of hot copper tore through his hand Lu felt real pain. “Ah!” The gasp of pain broke something, and the dreamscape melted away.