Su Li felt like she was drifting through a dream. It wasn’t merely the fact that she’d spent more than a quarter of her life in the Pathless Night. The drastic change of scenery was sudden, but she hadn’t felt like this sitting on the deck of the Black Sun, the unfiltered light of its namesake shining down upon her face. No, there was something about this temple that affected her so.
That was what it was, she knew. The others hedged their words, called it a complex in one sentence, and a ruin in the next. But she could feel in her bones this had been a place of wonder, perhaps even of true worship. A place one came to witness the sort of mystery that reminded men how small they were. As her feet mindlessly marched in Fang Xiao’s wake, she saw the same rapture reflected in the faces of so many of the Glass Flowers who had settled at the edge of the great hallway, meditating on the phenomena.
She… She was not sure that she wished to join them. It felt too much like staring into the light of the noonday sun; a fool’s indulgence her father had chided her for. In this place, deep below the ground, she felt closer to the moon than she usually felt sitting beneath the open sky. But the blinding white light surrounding her, for all that it carried great waves of lunar qi within it, did not feel like the moon’s stark and distant comfort. It was something else here that called to her, welcoming her to a home she’d never known.
A voice that had become so very familiar broke her out of her trance.
“Elder Cai, it would be impolitic to kidnap one of the Glass Flower’s disciples at this juncture.” Her master said politely, but firmly.
Elder Hu and Elder Cai stood alone together deep within the light of the great hall. Dozens of eyes tracked them, Glass Flowers with nothing better to do loitering to stare at the seniors in their midst. They’d unloaded a room’s worth of strange equipment and mundane furnishings from their storage rings. Su Li swore she saw Elder Hu’s stone stove sitting next to an elegant writing desk, both equally covered with scrolls and sheets of loose paper.
“You agreed though, that those foreign objects within their auras are almost certainly the keys granting them access to the deeper rooms. If we could isolate one of them, and compare its qi composition to that of the room.” Elder Cai gestured towards a strange machine that rested amidst the clutter. A colossal spirit stone hung from a cord in the center of the metal frame, but to Su Li’s inexperienced eyes, it seemed fully expended. “It would tell us if the trials are operated by the same formation.”
“Yes, but we can’t just grab them for study.” Elder Hu said. “If those tags are granted as trial rewards, we’ll have some of our own within the day. And I’m still not convinced it’s that simple. Imagine you were designing a formation of this scale. Would you really store information about who has access to what functions of a formation somewhere outside the formation’s control, where an attacker could modify it?”
“True, it’s not how I would design such a formation, but there are ways of ensuring that such qi structures are unmodified.”
“A cipher of some sort? Hiding other information within the message, such that even small edits would disrupt the integrity of it?”
Elder Cai frowned, then smiled.
“Yes, that is one such method. Though I would favor simply using a form of qi so specific and uncommon that only the originating formation would be able to shape it without destroying it. If one were to write their permissions in qi of the aspect of ‘a wild wind across a mundane labor’ or ‘the desolate solitude of a drunkard’s early morning’ most potential trespassers would have no hope modifying the formation’s work. Even experts of surpassing cultivation would be forced to treat such qi structures like soap bubbles, to be transferred from surface to surface, rather than modified.”
Her master made the very particular face that she had come to associate with her giving an answer that was correct, but that he disliked for some reason he would not explain to her. Su Li felt the thread of the conversation slipping away from her. She understood that they were talking about the great central formation, but whatever plan the two had, she lacked the breadth of knowledge to grasp the specifics of it.
“That feels inelegant to me.” He said slowly. “To pin all such a work’s security on the hope an attacker cannot manipulate a particular sort of qi. Would it not be more secure for a formation to remember the cultivation bases it encounters, and store within its own memory information about the permissions that should be granted to their owners?”
“I see your meaning, but it is a novice’s perspective. Men have been inventing disguise techniques for as long as they have been cultivating. If one is willing to destructively harvest their subject, it is possible to wear another cultivator’s qi like an outer skin, the most perfect of disguises. Better to pin all your hopes on an obscure mastery than to use an approach that fails before any sufficiently advanced infiltrator. The most elegant solution is the one that works.”
“I will concede before your expertise. My understanding of formations is rather limited to where to cut them to optimal effect. However, I feel your description of the best practices of the art suggests that modern formation masters are missing many possibilities.”
“Hah!” Elder Cai barked. “You have no idea! It’s shocking how stagnant the orthodox school of formation design is. The Black Sun and the Scholar’s Lair have far more cleverly designed defenses than the rudimentary approaches to access control we’ve discussed thus far. Indeed it’s precisely the lack of evidence of any more advanced form of authentication that makes me suspect that we’re dealing with a formation created by an immortal with a limited understanding of formations as an art! Now, come take a look at this, the next set of spectrometry results are in. If we can identify the composition of the subset of flows that…”
Elder Cai’s words began to blend into each other to Su Li’s ears. Elder Hu and Fang Xiao nodded along studiously, and offered the occasional question. But for her, it sounded like a poetry recital occasionally interspersed with a series of seemingly unrelated numbers that Elder Cai seemed to think were of paramount importance. She supposed they were, but she had not the slightest idea what phrases like spectrometry, steganography, and integral summation meant.
Instead, her attention returned to the swirling power around her. How could it feel so similar to the light of the moon, and yet so different? Slowly, tentatively, she began cycling her cultivation method. If the Glass Flowers were cultivating here, surely it couldn’t be too dangerous? To her surprise, the strange qi yielded easily to her, filling her meridians with pure lunar light.
Stolen story; please report.
Normally, cultivating felt like being a bucket awaiting rain. A thing waiting to be filled, grasping at droplets. Here, she felt like a stone in a river. Submerged, but somehow not drowning.
“What do you think you’re doing!” Elder Cai yelled, thunder rumbling in the wake of her voice.
Su Li jumped, her eyes popping open.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done, idiot girl! How are we supposed to get accurate readings if you’re muddying the flows of the formation with your own cultivation!”
“Elder Cai.” Fang Xiao cut in quietly. “Disciple Su is-”
Su Li’s throat felt tight. She wanted to say something, to explain herself, but she couldn’t find the words. She hadn’t known.
Elder Cai turned away from her in disgust. As she did, her hand rose.
Su Li didn’t see the bolt until after it had landed.
Her master’s jaw clenched, as the stray bolt of lightning lashed against his hand. Wisps of steam rose from reddened fingers.
“Disciple Su, if you wish to cultivate in the hall, please find a spot far enough away from us to avoid influencing Elder Cai’s measurements.” Her master said in the same tone her mother had used when the twins fought over the kite. “Elder Cai, we can simply take the measurements anew.”
Su Li’s heart beat faster. She wished she could be as calm as her master was. Her body felt like a traitor, threatening to cry when she commanded it to speak.
Elder Cai shot her another venomous look, and opened her mouth to speak.
“You had mentioned, showing me how the central stone is purged.” Elder Hu smoothly continued, cutting her off.
Elder Cai stared at him.
“She ruined half an hour of measurements. Can’t trust the numbers now. Wasted reagents.”
“Elder Cai.” Her master said, a dangerous undertone in his voice. “Please do not make me repeat myself. We will take the measurements anew.”
“Fine.” She snapped. Fang Xiao visibly relaxed, as Elder Cai turned back to her machine.
Su Li retreated. Idiot. She hadn’t thought before she acted. She’d made yet more trouble for her master, and he hadn’t even spoken of punishment. She didn’t know if she would feel better if he did, than if he told her it was an honest mistake. Fang Xiao didn’t need to be told not to cultivate next to whatever that metal frame was.
She wanted to find a corner and sit, but she refused to give in to the urge. Three elders and half a dozen inner disciples had been mobilized to give the sect this opportunity; she couldn’t waste a moment of it. Other disciples had spoken of attempting the trials.
It was easy enough to find where her fellow disciples clustered, every black robe stood out like a chicken among cranes in the uniform silver light of the hall. She followed a more senior outer disciple she recognized down a side hall until she reached a full crowd of Pathless Night disciples.
To her relief, she saw Meng Daiyu at its head. There would be no infighting in her presence, nor any danger from the smaller crowd of Glass Flowers that had gathered in the same chamber. Su Li had never spoken to their sect’s sole core disciple. Had never even really thought about it, for all that they lived in the same place, she seemed even more distant than the elders. She wondered how Meng Daiyu had come to occupy that title. There were rumors that she was the sect master’s biological daughter, but Su Li didn’t put much stock in them. She couldn’t even imagine what sort of woman could draw the attention of a man as cold and distant as the night sky. No, she thought it far more likely Meng Daiyu was simply a prodigy among prodigies who had taken her master’s name.
“I see the rumors about your sect’s desperation are not unfounded.” One Glass Flower said loudly. “Our roster is not so strained that we brought initiates to a proving ground.”
Su Li quietly joined the tail end of the crowd of black robes, as the two groups jeered at each other.
“Initiate? Could it be that our fellow daoist is impaired? Her spiritual sense damaged in a tragic accident?” One of Su Li's fellow disciples replied. “The supposed initiate she is referring to has a cultivation fit to match her own.”
Su Li spied the short black haired figure that could only be Geng Ru at the front of the crowd. A poor tactic, taking issue with him. She hated the strange and violent child, but he had as much right to be here as any of them.
“Bold words, from a man and a sect that have not a single trial victory to their name. Please, step forward, show us what you supposed demons are made of.”
“Do none of you have anything better to do than talk?” Meng Daiyu asked. “I’d thought that the chattering monkeys of the court were a mortal phenomena, but I see the breed is thriving among cultivators as well.”
There was silence for a time, Meng Daiyu’s sheer power commanding respect even among the Glass Flowers. Core Formation disciples were rare as qilins in lesser lands like the Qin Empire.
Su Li wormed her way forward through the crowd, setting eyes upon this room’s trials.
There were three doors upon the far wall, a beautiful scene painted on each one. A moment later, Su Li realized they weren’t doors at all. Some inhuman hand had painted upon empty air. On the left, a woman knelt before a funeral bier, praying alone. To the right, the same woman stood alone before a small army, clutching something to her chest as she fled. In the center, she stood beneath a full moon so real Su Li could have reached out and touched it. Each work was titled. From left to right, they were the Lonely Vigil, the Company of Moonlight, and the Faith of Thieves.
Suddenly, Meng Daiyu stepped forward. The image of the Lonely Vigil rippled as she touched it, then faded from sight, leaving only the light-bleached stone of the wall.
“Are you going to try one?” A disciple to Su Li’s left whispered.
“Am I going to rush in first instead of waiting to hear what exactly the challenge is? No.” His friend replied.
There was a stir from the front, as Geng Ru stepped forward.
“Please, feel free to attempt the Faith of Thieves young one. I look forward to seeing your progress.” The first Glass Flower to speak said.
“Ah, I take it all of yours to attempt it died then? Don’t worry, I’ll let you know what the task and rewards are.” The monster with the face of a child replied.
Her side of the room resounded with laughter. Even Su Li found herself smiling, despite what Geng Ru had done to Deng Xue. What he had done to her, under the guise of a friendly sparring match. It had been an unwelcome reminder, just how cold the Glass Flowers were to their fellow daoists. They were tolerated here, by virtue of the strength of their elders, but even less than an hour in righteous indignation and snide commentary followed them everywhere. It was nice to see it turned back in the smug bitch’s faces.
Su Li had wanted to join them once. Before she realized the sect’s entry fee was nearly a thousand gold coins worth of spirit stones, if one did not have a sponsor. It was just one of so many doors that had been shut in her face, before she’d found her way to the Pathless Night. Power ran the world, but money greased its wheels.
Before the laughter had even died down, Geng Ru stepped forward and erased the second door. There was a tension in the air now, as they waited to see who else would step forward. There were surely other trials in other rooms. But their sect had chosen two of these, there was an expectation that they would also attempt the third.
Her father had taken the family to see a play once. She’d been young then, and a shy child. It’d struck her, just how bold all the actors were. How sure their every step, how heroic their bearing. By their brazen faith, red silk became blood; and lies were transformed into high drama.
She felt like all the other cultivators here were actors in a play, who knew their lines by heart. They all leapt to their places, even the ones whose place was the laughing audience.
Elder Hu had wanted trial victors. Or, Elder Cai had. But Elder Hu thought her work was important. She was so very tired of drifting, of never feeling like she belonged in her own life. An unwelcome note in another’s song.
The Company of Moonlight. It might as well have been made for her. She stared up at the painted moon, alabaster luminance atop inky darkness. She’d wandered for years, with no company save the lonely moon; searching for a place she could exist without guilt.
If this test wasn’t suitable for her, then which would be? If not now, then when?
Su Li stepped forward, into the light, before the audience could begin their lines again.