The Downpour, Canvas, Frontier Territory, Late Autumn, 1596 PTS
Yuenan could not help but feel his stomach slightly squirm with anticipation as he watched his prospective disciple enter the chamber. Of the elders, only himself and Riese were present. There was no need for everyone to waste their time to watch a single disciple’s talents be tested. Only if the results were particularly positive or negative would they even need to be informed. In fact, normally no elders would even be present at all. It was only Jin’s status as his potential disciple that had driven Yuenan to watch.
The test was administered by a senior disciple, an elderly woman whose talents had left her unable to progress past the earliest stages of the core formation realm. This test had been her role in the sect for almost two decades now, and she was finally reaching the end of her lifespan. Yuenan suddenly realized that he didn’t know her name.
That was the way of an unorthodox sect, Yuenan mused. One burned brightly, given the opportunity to shine, but to pause on the path was to doom oneself to a slow descent into oblivion. The woman was fortunate. She had lasted far longer than most in her situation. In a way, that too could be considered a sort of talent. But compared to her, Yuenan had simply lived for too long.
“Did you warn him of the importance of the test?” asked Riese, watching the boy with a concerned gaze. She had accompanied him into the chamber, standing beside him off to the side of the room. Yuenan did not move his body, his eyes focused intently on his potential disciple, but his mind’s eye regarded the soul of his fellow elder.
The woman held a shiny horn the size of a dagger. The horn itself was an opalescent white, but pale blue mist slowly felt from it, tinging the color of the air. The anxiety in Jin’s expression was almost palpable as he remained still, watching the item steadily move toward his forehead, allowing her to tap the mudfiend horn to the skin above his cerebral dantian. The energies flowed inside, and Jin twitched visibly as he felt what Yuenan imagined must have been an entirely alien sensation.
Yuenan could not even remember how he had felt when miasma first entered him. He might as well have been a different person entirely than the boy from all those years ago.
“Are you concerned?” asked Riese.
“I can’t say I’m not,” Yuenan replied. “But I have confidence in him. He has the willpower for this path. If he lacked the talent, fate would have played a cruel trick on us both.” Riese did not respond. It would be only moments before the test would end, and the boy’s talents would be revealed.
Finally, the tester removed the treasure from Jin’s skull, and glanced over to Yuenan, a shocked expression on her face.
“Elder Ding, Elder Hukari, his talent- it- it’s of the fourth grade!”
Yuenan grinned, his gaze veering sharply towards the boy. He knew his eyes had been good. Such a talent was excellent, the best the sect had seen in half a decade.
“It seems your eyes were good,” muttered Riese. “Perhaps it is indeed better that you did nor warn him,” she muttered.
“Confidence will do a young man good,” agreed Yuenan. “In moderation, of course.”
“If a fourth grade direct disciple lacks confidence, that will be the fault of his master.”
Yuenan chuckled.
“I suppose you’re right.”
Before them, Jin glanced around uncertainly, clearly unaware of what the results meant, nor what had been at stake for him. Yuenan walked towards the boy, informing the proctor with a nod that her role had ended. She bowed, and replaced the horn into a fur-lined case before rapidly leaving the room. Yuenan and Riese then approached the young disciple.
“Congratulations, Jin,” she said. “A talent at the fourth grade is quite rare. We haven’t seen one of your level in a number of years.”
The boy blinked as he finally took more notice of the strange woman before him.
“Thank you, um, Elder Hukari?” he asked.
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Riese smiled.
“That is indeed my name. Your master can be considered my… benefactor, so you will probably be seeing a lot of me in the coming days.”
“Is a fourth grade talent really so good?” he asked.
“Extremely so,” said Yuenan.
“What grade were you, Master?” Jin asked.
Yuenan smiled.
“I was ranked at the third grade, so your talent should be a full stage greater than mine. Of course, you must remember that talent is not everything. Diligence is far more important, and is what will truly dictate your path. You must keep that in mind.”
Jin nodded his head, paying close attention to Yuenan’s every word. To Yuenan’s side, Riese chuckled.
“Ever the instructor,” she said. “It is a wonder that you had not taken a disciple until this point, Yuenan.”
The older man shrugged, saying what he always had.
“I was waiting for fate to present itself, and finally it has.” He glanced back down to Jin. “Now, I believe we have a ceremony to get to.” Jin brightened visibly, and Yuenan smiled down at the boy. “Riese, I’ll see you later.”
“I shall soon have to give the both of you my congratulations again,” she said.
Yuenan led his charge towards his private chambers, which were large enough to have a separate room for drinking tea. Yuenan had performed the rites with his own master in the exact same chamber. He had already prepared the necessary implements, such as the tea set, the incense, and the table and cushions. Yuenan sat down in his seat, and with a wave of his hand, directed Jin to begin.
The boy had been instructed of all he needed to do yesterday, by another of the senior disciples. Yuenan would have to trust that the boy had learned properly. As it was only the two of them in the chamber, Yuenan would likely ignore any minor slips or mistakes, but he would have to admit that he would be disappointed if any occurred. This ceremony was one of the most important martial traditions, after all. It needed to be taken seriously.
The ceremony was shorter than most, the way that Yuenan preferred it. His own master had forced him to recite a full incense stick’s time worth of lines, on top of the tea ceremony and an expanded set of bows. Personally, he was content with just the bare minimum.
Jin carefully lit the sticks of incense, setting them near the center of the table. He then set to brewing the tea. The boy was unpracticed, and his hands seemed to be shaking without nervousness. As the leaves scattered into the cup, one nearly missed the cup’s edge and fell to the table, but fortunately it fell the other way upon contacting the cup’s edge.
Yuenan had not wished for Jin to make a complex drink, and nor did he trust the boy with his best leaves. The ceremony itself was a formality, of course, as in reality, Yuenan had considered Jin as his disciple since the moment they had left Crucible’s Edge together.
As the tea steeped, Jin bowed once before the heavens, reciting his appreciation for the immortals who had paved the path of martial arts. He bowed once again before the earth, and thanked the Crucible and the Downpour for giving life to him, and for giving him a home. A third time, Jin bowed before his Master. Yuenan gave the boy a sharp nod, and listened quietly as Jin recited his lines.
“I accept you, Yuenan Ding, as my sole Master, and will accept all lessons and responsibilities that you wish to impart to me. Should I stray from this oath, may my soul be washed clean.”
He then proffered the cup of tea to Yuenan, who accepted it. He took a long sip, noting from the flavor alone how unpracticed his disciple was in its preparation. He would have to ensure the boy learned better. No disciple of his would be a poor brewer.
“Jin Luo,” he said, “I accept you into my lineage as my first disciple.”
“Thank you for everything, Master. I will repay this debt.”
Yuenan smiled, touched by the boy’s earnestness.
“There is no need, Jin. Taking a disciple is a commitment, and all the repayment I need is you to work hard. Tomorrow, we will begin your training. Be fed and ready by mid-morning.”
Hearing this, the boy visibly withered. It seemed that he had been anticipating teachings as early as this afternoon. Most of the day still remained, after all. But Yuenan had his own practice to continue, and he had been forced to put it off during the days of travel. Even at his age, progression was vital.
“Patience is critical, Jin,” he explained. “A practitioner must know when to move forward, when to pause, and when to take a step backwards. Impatience is the surest of all paths, and leads you right towards your death.” Jin hesitated, clearly upset, but unable or unwilling to express that fact.
“I understand, Master,” he said simply.
Once again, Yuenan noticed how mature Jin was for his age. Much more so than most of the children who arrived at the sect. It was a sign of a rough childhood, he knew. In many ways, Jin was a product of his environment. Yuenan was certain that the environment of the sect would be exactly what the boy needed in order to develop into a healthy man. It had done so for himself, after all.
Talent Grades: [Grades of talent were an invention of the Downpour Sect, a measurement system that would not have been of use to most others. It measured how well the dantians and meridians of a prospective entrant responded to formless miasma. The grades ranged from first to fifth, with the first grade being incapable of using formless miasma, and the fifth being someone who already has a perfect formless physique prior to even reaching the foundation refinement realm. The fourth grade is extremely uncommon, while the fifth might only be encountered once in a century. Notably, despite this concept of ‘talent’ existing, it does not account for all forms of talent, such as those granted by the practitioner’s mental aptitude for martial arts.]