Chapter 15
Kora sat beneath the cherry trees, which were just beginning to blossom. It was in the evening in the day after the tournament, and she had sparred with the other children for hours. She ached all over. While the other children had taken it easy on her during their sparring matches, there were enough learning moments for Kora to have written a textbook, if only should could remember them all.
In her lap was little Safron, whose short hair she was currently brushing. Wensho had done her best to salvage what was left of the girl’s hair, but she almost looked like a boy now, except for her clothes.
Kora sighed. She was the oldest of the children on the farm, and yet the weakest, despite her cultivation. It was so frustrating, and yet she couldn’t really be mad at them. She’d seen first hand just how seriously they took sparring. And she’d quickly learned the difference too.
Instead of actually trying to prove who was the strongest – that was what the tournament was for – they worked on improving their opponents. The children each took turns helping each other work on some aspect of their fighting style, except today it had been all about Kora.
With Ko, Pao, and Tan, she had practiced her martial technique. Something she had been diligent about when she was younger, then let slide as she focused on cultivating with her spirit. And also something she wasn’t accustomed to having a partner for, she reflected, wincing as Safron shifted and her butt-bone pushed up against one of Kora’s bruises.
She was used to simply mimicking her instructors for the most part, following the movements without any danger. The children had all scoffed at that, asking her how old she’d been. She’d been reluctant to admit the truth, that this practice had carried on until she’d turned twelve.
Although they had teased her a bit, it was a lighthearted sort of teasing that hadn’t had hard edges behind it. Until she’d seen the others fight—until she’d fought with them—she’d actually thought that she was fairly advanced in the martial technique that her family had given her. It was only when using it in practice that she realized the difference between copying a kata and performing a move with an actual opponent.
The opponent is less cooperative when it’s not in the imagination.
Rather than simply beat her, however, the other children fought down to her level, correcting her obvious mistakes but otherwise cooperating with her as she tried to utilize the moves she knew.
It was difficult. Challenging. Exhilarating. Painful. Fun. Worth the bruises.
She’d learned more about fighting after finishing the day’s chores than she had in months under her former masters. And once the others had each had a turn to spar with her, they had had her practice her magic with them as well.
She had several obvious flaws with her fire dragon technique. The first, and primary flaw, was that it took her too long to conjure. She’d realized this without the other children pointing it out, although they’d been happy to do that for her, and she realized quickly that the only way to correct this flaw was to practice it endlessly.
That would correct the second weakness of the technique as well; that it was itself weak. It was below what a cultivator of the ninth stage of the initiate’s realm should be capable of. Won’s flames burned much hotter, and he conjured them faster and with less effort.
And the third weakness, her lack of control.
The fourth weakness, its lack of connection to her dao, was a more complicated matter.
When she had begun learning the technique, before her tutelage under Renton Shen, she had followed a path of destruction. Not self-destruction, but she had studied the way in which fire consumed and destroyed. Under Renton’s guidance she had realized that the destruction was itself an act of creation, removing the deadwood for the world to create something new with the materials.
She was still early on that path, but she already recognized it as a higher-tier dao than what she had initially set herself upon.
The issue was that she’d developed the technique with one dao, and in her mind the dragon she conjured remained one of destruction and consumption.
“So change your perception of dragons,” Tan had told her.
“It’s not that easy,” Kora objected. “Whenever I conjure the technique I remember how I first learn it and—”
“I didn’t say it was easy. It’s going to be hard. But while dragons are capable of great destruction, and all the myths agree on that, they are also forces of creation and stability and growth and change. Review those myths and reflect on what those dragons were capable of. Ingrain those myths into your understanding of your technique and discard the simpler notion that your technique is only about destroying your opponent. If that’s all it’s about, then why shape it as a dragon? Why not a naked flame?”
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She frowned when she considered Tan’s words, as she frowned now brushing Safron’s hair.
“You look like you need to poop,” Safron said, turning back to look at her. “Is it because you’re bad at fighting, or because you need to poop?”
“It’s because I’m bad at fighting,” Kora admitted. “But I’ll be better the next time you see me.”
“When will that be?”
“I don’t know. I’m going to ask your parents if I might visit again next year. Not to try to marry your brother, but to visit with you and your entire family. I know now that marrying into the Shen family is impossible, but I still believe that establishing a connection between my family and yours is in our best interests. Unless I am told to bugger off, I’m going to keep pestering your family until you’re sick of me.”
“That won’t take long,” Safron teased. Then she pinched Kora hard and ran off.
“You little!” Kora scolded, and chased the girl to deliver a tickle-torture punishment. When the girl begged for mercy, Kora magnanimously relented. Then they sat together in the center of the orchard and cultivated together until the sun went down and the Qi was no longer quite as good for their purposes.
Kora was just getting up to go to bed when she noticed a deer, a doe, watching them. She blinked; she’d never seen a living dear before. Then suddenly there was a loud Pop! A puff of smoke, and in the doe’s place was a beautiful young woman.
Without any clothes.
“Mouser said that I should come and give thanks,” the woman said. “Will you please direct me to the master of this estate?”
Safron ran off to the house screaming “Mom! Dad! It happened again! This time it’s a deer!”
Kora trembled as she realized that the woman before her was a spirit beast. She thought about how much this beast was worth, its hide a treasure worthy of a mighty set of armor, its meat would be --
Less valuable than the meal she was digesting from the Shen’s table, she realized. She’d never actually eaten a spirit animal before, but their Qi was said to be violent and untamed, sometimes difficult to master for yourself. Even if it was more dense than the usual fare of the Shen family, the Qi in the food that they served Kora each day was more easily claimed.
The doe-woman seemed to notice her greed and looked ready to flee. Kora opened her mouth to apologize for thoughts that she hadn’t spoken, but stopped herself. She saw the woman for her beauty, and she also saw the deer that she truly was. She remembered Tremble, and she shook her head.
“I apologize if I frightened you. I’m new around here, and I think that the Shens are still washing away some bad habbits from me. I apologize for any malicious feelings you might have felt from me. It is not my place to bid you welcome, but if it were I would do so. The Master and the Mistress of the house should be here soon.”
The doe-woman nodded, and a moment later Wensho appeared with a robe for the woman to put on.
“If you’re just here to give thanks for the increased bounty of the land, then we greet you and accept your gratitude. We also assure you that no payment is necessary,” Wensho said. “If there’s anything more that you require, then you may follow me inside.”
“I wish to exchange cultivation pointers with the water cultivators of this estate,” the doe said, her voice melodious and quiet. “Would this be permissible, or are your secrets --”
“We would love to host you for as long as you are willing, lady of the woods,” Wensho said. “However, this is a working farm, and we expect everyone to chip in.”
“I believe I understand,” the doe said. “Thank you for your welcome.”
“Come again tomorrow, in the morning, and you’ll be given your first task. In exchange, I give you this to think of. Where does water go when it dries?”
The doe-woman looked at lady Wensho in confusion. “It is simply gone. What do you mean where does it go?”
Lady Wensho smiled. “Think on the matter closely. Watch some water drying very closely, my dear, and perhaps you will see something that you have missed.”
The doe nodded. “I thank you for your guidance. I will return soon.”
The woman, dressed in the robe that was given to her, leapt away, running with the leaping gate of a deer.
Wensho turned to Kora and smiled. “That makes eight of them,” she said.
“You have eight spirit beasts on your farm?” Kora asked, incredulous.
“Eight that we know of, yes. They’re not really ours, but they come and go. Go get some sleep, Kora, it looks like you’re dead on your feet.”
“Yes, Lady Wensho,” Kora agreed, and she returned to the bedroom in the guesthouse where Tremble’s light snoring was a background to her own thoughts.
She wondered what the Zang family would do if they knew the true bounty of the Shen farm. She resolved that it was none of their business, and that she would maintain the Shen’s privacy when she returned.