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These Heels Step Heavenward - A Jade Beauty's Isekai Gone Wild

Discussion in 'Creative Writing' started by Halt, Apr 11, 2021.

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  1. Threadmarks: 09: Yet Profound
    Halt

    Halt Making the rounds.

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    Chapter 09: Yet Profound
    The world was a kaleidoscope of fractals in D Minor. Here, with the margins of the soul ripped open, time was without form or function. Daphne was without form or function. She simply was, both within her body, observing it from afar, and observing that observer. As if the tripartite soul was now each its own person instead of a unitary thing.

    They heard something warm, if slightly burning. A comforting, omnipresent hum that lurked behind them. Was this the sound of love, or a sunset, or love like a sunset? Maybe all three all at once.

    There was a buzzing too, a distortion in their vision as they saw—not heard—the words of those around them. “Travel on,” one said to the other.

    It could not hold their attention for long, not when the secrets of the universe were within reach. They were a jade beauty standing atop twin peaks, best defined by having two arms, two legs, and even a mouth that on occasion made mouth sounds! In the distance, the infinite fictional Daphne saw themselves standing before the shining gate. “Light my way,” one of the infinite hers said.

    The dao was infinite, eternal. Why was it eternal? It was never born; thus it could never die. They were one, yet not the same. They were one with the qi, yet the qi was with them. It was simple, yet profound.

    Since they had come to this realm, they would stay forever. They were infinite. They were eternal. They would never die. Here, they would be the master of death.

    This was their dao, their credo.

    “I-impossible! This can’t be true!” some might say.

    They sighed. There were heavens beyond the heavens and geniuses beyond geniuses. The difference between those of the infinite Daphne and those without were akin to cloud and mud. Others were content to live under heaven, but a true immortal was not afraid to rebuke the heavens, to think thoughts that would have made the gods die from anger.

    Was that not the essence of tribulation based on a true story?

    It could not be helped if others did not grasp the truth. They were not the hero, for they lacked the symptoms of protagonist syndrome. Heroes, of course, were defined by the following things: being a boy at war, a boy who lived and let die, with a clear lack of tact and not a semblance of decency.

    To be fair, one had to have an incredibly profound cultivation base to understand the dao. The simplicity was extremely profound, and without a solid grasp on the flows of your inner qi, most of its wisdom would go over a typical person’s head. There was a certain nihilism deftly woven into the dao, drawn heavily from Mahayana Buddhism, for instance. The elders understood this stuff; for they had the qi condensation to truly appreciate the depths of the dao, to realize that cultivation was not just cultivation—it said something deep about life. As a consequence, people who did not comprehend the dao truly are idiots. Of course, they wouldn’t appreciate, for instant, the humor in an existential catchphrase like “the dao is like an empty bowl, yet it may be used without ever needing to be filled,” which itself was a cryptic reference to the pottery of the Tang dynasty.

    Daphne smirked, imagining one of those addlepated simpletons scratching their heads in confusion as the genius of the dao unfolded itself in the apocrypha of the cultivation manuals and their variants.

    What fools … how I pity them. And, of course, she did have a heavenly dao tattoo. Or at least she used to. It was for the eyes of heroes only, and even they had to demonstrate that they were within two heavens of her own cultivation (preferably higher) beforehand.

    “I think she’s coming down from it,” someone said.

    Wait, what was that? Did she just hear a dog bark? Shoo, shoo! Go crawl your way back home and find your master! She shut her eyes, embracing the darkness and the colors of phantasia to be found within that darkness.

    If they continued to bother her, she would suffer from qi deviation! Then her grudge would be irreconcilable and they would not be able to live under the same sky!

    Not that it would be much of a challenge. She was a huntress, and they were prey.

    A huntress is you,” echoed her mind agreeably.

    Daphne inhaled, letting her qi circulate, then exhaled, releasing her distractions. Such was the dao on the importance of lung usage. Such was the dao, simple, but with infinite complexities, and in the end, everything was simple.

    The dragon within her woke, setting her heart aflame and her blood flowing in circles and cycles. It was fate. Her eyes shot open, and she spied her maid clutching on a rosario.

    But beyond those prayer beads, she could see, truly see underneath the underneath. It was the first time since she’d awoken in this new world, and how she’d missed it. There was a faint flow of energy within and connecting everyone and everything, from the birds that flew overhead to the heads their excrement landed upon.

    “I see Mount Tai,” Daphne declared to the heavens and the earth.

    “Maybe I was wrong about coming down from it,” Broken Nose said to her maid.

    Daphne smiled at him. “Very well done, Broken Nose.”

    He stared at her in stunned silence for several long seconds, then turned back to her maid. “Yeah, she definitely hasn’t come down from it.”

    “Agreed,” her maid said. “Lady Daphne, can you understand us?”

    Ah, what a profound question. She supposed she did understand them in the same way man understood beast. They were driven by the same base instincts—hunger, rage, lust—but where beasts were slaves to their instincts, man could rise above it. Well, in theory that is. Daphne had yet to meet someone who actually had transcended such things. Rage, surprisingly, was the last shackle on the tripartite soul.

    “A good question. I suppose I can,” Daphne said.

    “Eyes are back to normal at least,” Broken Nose said. “That’s a good sign. Just need to wait for her to speak normally again.”

    “This is how I normally speak,” Daphne said.

    “Never this nicely,” he said. “And definitely not to me.”

    She frowned. It was only proper to praise one’s servants when they had done well, but was this not a reward Broken Nose liked? Perhaps he was one of those deviant men who enjoyed ridicule? Far be it from her to deny him. “You speak too freely,” Daphne snapped at him. “Hold your tongue. When we are at the academy, there will be many arrogant young masters who would beat you to the point of hovering between life and death.”

    That simply could not be allowed. Who would provide her with medicinal pills then? It would be tragic for her cultivation to suffer because of her underling’s mistakes.

    Broken Nose sighed in relief. It seemed her assessment of his tastes were correct. She made a mental note of this, and decided to treat him all the more harshly in the future whenever he had pleased her.

    Daphne took a moment to assess the cultivation of her servants, and found that they were both quite low. It was only to be expected given they were not heroes, but she found herself disappointed nevertheless. She drew open the blinds and peered out the carriage window, spying on her knightly escorts. Each of their qi was at a much higher cultivation stage, though there were no old monsters or elders among them.

    Ah, well surely she would come across one at the academy. Old monsters were drawn to the convergence of arrogant young masters and heroes like flies to a candle.
     
    Last edited: Apr 27, 2021
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  2. a2znut

    a2znut Needs more handholding. [Forever DM]

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    Add oil Daphne, show those simpletons the true path of the dao.
     
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  3. Autocorruptor

    Autocorruptor Corrupting Innocent Grammar

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    Snerk

    Also, holy cow, did this pill really awaken her qi? Even though it wasn’t meant to do that?
    Impossible!
     
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  4. Scopas

    Scopas I trust you know where the happy button is?

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    Poor Broken Nose. Daphne's decided that you're a masochist, and any disputing that will simply affirm her belief.
     
  5. Threadmarks: 10: The Dao of Disappearance
    Halt

    Halt Making the rounds.

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    Chapter 10: The Dao of Disappearance

    The academy commanded many li of land beyond the walls which surrounded the school proper. It held dominion too over a small forest and many villages and farms which provided for its upkeep. It was easy to tell when they had crossed into these lands as even the simplest villages flew the hexagram sigil of the hystors.

    When they arrived at last at the school gates, a hystor in plain wool robes was standing on ceremony for her.

    “Greetings, hystor,” Daphne said, stepping out of the carriage.

    “The Middle School welcomes you, Lady Daphne of the House External Greenglade,” the hystor said with a small bow. “The archystor requests to meet with you at your earliest convenience.”

    “Of course,” Daphne said, tilting her head. “I would be honored to speak with the archystor.” Based on her studies, the title referred to the sect leader of this school! Even as a core disciple, it was still a great honor to meet such an esteemed figure of their sect on her first day back. She directed her coachman to bring her carriage to the archystor’s tower where he contemplated on the dao in closed door cultivation.

    Daphne made all haste to greet the archystor, tasking her servants to bring her trunk with her. Through her awakened eyes, she could sense his potent qi circulating through his dantian cores and the twelve meridians. His cultivation was significant, far more than hers certainly, though she could not say for certain how much stronger he was. Maybe not strong enough to achieve immortality considering his aged features on display, for surely cultivation would have kept him young, but he was still surely an old monster to rule this sect where even the sons and daughters of patriarchs learned his scriptures.

    “This one greets the archystor,” Daphne said, bowing to him. “Would you like to inspect my trunk?” It wasn’t quite a spatial ring, but alas, she had yet to find one. Such treasures were simply rarer in this realm.

    The archystor’s thick brows drew together. “Inspect your trunk? There’s no need for that, Lady Daphne. You are a student here, so it would not be proper to treat you in that manner.”

    Daphne understood his meaning instantly. This old monster was giving her family great face by not inspecting her things. “Ah, of course,” Daphne said, nodding. “If I might ask, why did you wish to see me then?”

    “I hope you understand that I would very much prefer it if no accidents like last time were to befall you for the rest of your stay,” he said, stroking his long beard.

    “I would prefer that too,” Daphne said.

    “Good, then would you be opposed if I were to assign one of my hystors to supervise you whenever you are … experimenting with your magic?”

    She frowned. What need was there to ask her about this? He was the sect leader. If he wished to assign her discipleship to an elder, who was she to refuse?

    “We would swear him or her to an oath of secrecy obviously,” the archystor said, “and whatever discoveries you stumble upon will be kept safe.”

    Daphne was being given a lot of face right now! How could she dare keep the sect leader waiting with her answer? “That would be more than sufficient. Thank you for the offer.”

    His shoulders relaxed and he nodded. “As always, the full resources and facilities of the Middle School are open to yourself, Lady Greenglade. You need only ask.”

    “Ah,” she said, “I would not wish to trouble yourself with my requests, archystor.” Though she did not think his odds of attaining immortality were high, she did not know the full state of his cultivation either! He could be a crouching tiger or a hidden dragon of this realm, or maybe he just liked how he looked with a flowing beard? Stroking it gave one an aura of profoundness that a clean shaven face simply could not match.

    “Nonsense,” he said. “My door is always open to my students.”

    Did he not have his closed door cultivation to attend to? Did he not practice the Dao of Disappearance? What sort of master actually taught their disciples by himself? If one did not have better things to do than teach their disciples, was he really worth learning from?

    “But how can you concentrate on your own studies?” Daphne asked.

    He snorted. “I am an old man now, and I have lived a long life. If I truly wanted to keep pushing the boundaries of magic, I would have refused being elected as the archystor of this institution.”

    Ah, of course. He would be seeing the yellow springs soon, and so wished to pass on his learnings to his disciples before that time came. What a benevolent elder! Though, in hindsight, perhaps the Dao of Disappearance simply wasn’t practiced so strongly here? After all, Daphne herself had not been abandoned by her parents at some humble village at birth, which they should have rightly done considering she was a favored daughter of heaven and destined for greatness.

    Being raised as an orphan was extremely beneficial for one’s cultivation.

    “I understand, archystor,” Daphne said. “Thank you for the offer.”

    “Good, good. I’ll leave you to settle in then. Classes begin in two days,” he said.

    Familiar with when an honored elder was dismissing her, Daphne tilted her head in deference before extracting herself from his office.

    “Shall we head to your rooms now then, Lady Daphne?” her maid asked, pulling out a feather umbrella to hide her from the sun’s glare.

    “Yes, let’s,” Daphne said. And after that, she could survey the school grounds. She’d have to find out where all the best meditation spots were.

    The student dormitories were a building entirely separate from the archystor’s tower, made of brick and glass. It was a sprawling affair, richly decorated in paintings, sculptures, and tapestries in a style that was foreign to Daphne’s eye. Nevertheless, Daphne loved all things beautiful.

    It was why she loved herself most of all.

    Everywhere she glanced about in the dormitories were arrogant young masters trading pointers in the arts and martial arts, while misstocrats cultivated the dao of stitching. A mixed group of men and women practiced playing on the harp, lute, and drum, while another of their group recited what seemed to be poetry. It shamed her to say that none of them played the guqin.

    Wherever her fellow disciples cultivated, it definitely wasn’t here for how could anyone meditate with so much activity around them?

    As she drew near to her room, a commotion outside it caught her eye. Two well-dressed ladies bearing silk fans were trading words with what was definitely a strawborn peasant. Her dress was a simple affair of undyed wool, and the length of her heels remained at one inch. It was forbidden by law for a strawborn to wear heels higher than that, which was a right reserved for the nobility.

    “You should be grateful that the hystors took pity on you and accepted you into this school again,” the one with braided hair said.

    “If your performance continues to be as poor as it was last year, you will definitely fail the trials,” the one with dark hair said. “Still, it will not make much of a difference whether you pass or fail. None of the stoneborn think much of your talents, and without a patron, this will be your last year here. Better if you save yourself the trouble and just leave now.”

    Daphne scoffed. Was this how her junior sisters thought bullying worked? Clearly they had not been raised properly by their parents if this was the sum of their abuses! Worry not my juniors, she thought. This Thorned Rose shall teach you! She cleared her throat.

    “Lady Daphne!” the two ladies exclaimed as they noticed her. “Are you doing well? We weren’t sure if you’d be returning after the unpleasantness last year.”

    “I am fully recovered,” Daphne said. “And why wouldn’t I return? Everyone encounters a little trouble in life. It is no great surprise for us to overcome such things.”

    “As you say,” the braided girl said.

    Daphne nodded and looked pointedly at the peasant. “And who is this supposed to be?”

    “No one you need to concern yourself with,” said the dark-haired girl. “She’ll be gone soon enough.”

    “Only those with talent can rise in this place,” Daphne said. The qi of this peasant girl wasn’t low for her age, though not as high as Daphne’s. “Go home to your parents with what dignity you have left.”

    “I’m an orphan,” the peasant girl bit out.

    A fortuitous sign, Daphne thought. There were many orphans in any realm, but was she one of the fated few destined to be more? Despite her lowborn status, she had been accepted into this school and for two years now. She was starting much later than a normal disciple would—an aristocrat’s child began attending at the age of twelve for comparison. If there was any talent in her, then adversity would only draw it out!

    Iron sharpens iron. Truly her act of bullying served the will of the heavens and was best for all involved.

    “If a servant like you wishes to stay here, then you might as well serve,” Daphne declared. “I have yet to unpack my things. Perhaps you will understand your situation then.”

    Wisely, the girl did not protest and followed after her, for that would have forced Daphne to cripple her cultivation.
     
    Last edited: Apr 27, 2021
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  6. Scopas

    Scopas I trust you know where the happy button is?

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    Oh, I see, I see. This is basically Bakarina, if the personality that filled her post-frontal lobe injury had been a wannabe cultivation protagonist instead of an idiot schoolgirl. I can already see the death flags going up!

    That said, iron sharpens iron... I don't know if you've ever heard or read A Practical Guide to Evil, Mr. Author, but a few of the most recent chapters have had an interesting character arc based around that very same axiom, and how it's both accurate and self-defeating at the same time.

    Thank you for the tasty chapter! I love the wrong genre savvy, and how this idiot might be the only protagonist with a denser misunderstanding field then Tanya Degurchaff. Can't wait to enjoy more of your work!
     
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  7. Autocorruptor

    Autocorruptor Corrupting Innocent Grammar

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    Hm, so there was an accident, and the archystor wants to cover it up for some reason. Interesting.
     
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  8. Threadmarks: 11: Arrogance
    Halt

    Halt Making the rounds.

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    Chapter 11: Arrogance

    Daphne’s new serving girl was a natural jade beauty—raw, rough, and unrefined, but brimming with potential.

    Maybe with a nicer dress, Daphne thought. Cobalt or emerald would compliment her rich, dark skin and brown eyes nicely. A few hours each morning meditating on the dao of cultivating appearances would not go amiss either. Daphne nodded. Her serving girl could be a black swan, one that many arrogant young masters might not die for, but would certainly kill for.

    Serving girl fidgeted as she noticed Daphne’s attentions on her, which now lingered far longer than was appropriate to pay servants. Really that meant anything more than a glance, and Daphne had been observing her for much longer than that. Her cup of tea nearly drained now.

    “Tracey, how old are you?” Daphne asked.

    “Um, my lady, that’s not my name,” Tracey said in lieu of an answer, her aquiline nose wrinkling.

    “My serving girl is called Tracey,” Daphne said. “If I employ a Mary, I shall call her Tracey because she is my serving girl.”

    Tracey blinked. “I turn seventeen this year,” she said. Listening closer to her now, there was a stumble in her voice as she spoke the words in the High Speech. She trilled her r’s and there was a breathy quality to her words.

    “And where are you from?” Daphne asked. Her appearance was uncommon within the Everbloom itself, though there were many places in the Empire one could find the likes of her.

    “I don’t know the name of my village,” she said. “It’s … near the Great Oasis?”

    Dunelander blood then, Daphne thought. An odd way to refer to the Great Lake, but that was a peculiarity of the desert people to the west and their kin who lived around that immense body of water. She must have hailed from the eastern fringes of the Great Lake though, which were long under the dominion of the Everbloom.

    Daphne nodded to herself. From what she understood, this would be Tracey’s last year at the school if she did not find herself a patron before the next summer. It was charity on the part of the hystors to educate the most promising among the poor peasant children, but such an opportunity was not an excuse to become complacent. A journey of a thousand li did not end after the first step, nor was immortality seized after qi condensation.

    If expectations were not met, even a genius could be cast aside and crippled, for jade which could not be polished was not a jade beauty.

    “Your speech is unrefined,” Daphne said. “Do you not speak in this tongue where you come from?”

    “No, my lady, we don’t speak the Stone Tongue,” Tracey said.

    “It is the High Speech,” Daphne corrected sharply. “Only peasants refer to it as the Stone Tongue.”

    “I am a peasant.”

    “Everyone is well aware of that fact,” Daphne said, “but there’s no need to remind them of your origins even more.”

    Tracey nodded. “Yes, my lady.”

    “That dress won’t do either,” Daphne mused loudly. “Too plain to catch anyone’s attention.”

    “I don’t have another dress,” she said.

    “Has a young master caused a ruckus in a restaurant over you yet?”

    Tracey blinked. “What?”

    “Exactly,” Daphne said. Could one really call herself a jade beauty without that prerequisite? Heroes best appreciated the likes of them when they had to fight for them. If they were never challenged, they took such things for granted. For a war to be fought for one’s attention, to be the ruin of many cities with a glance, that was true power.

    Daphne drained the last drops from her cup, and set it down on the table. “Go make me another cup,” she said.

    Tracey bit her lower lip, before letting out an, “At once, my lady.” She picked up the cup with both hands and brought it to the side table with the silver kettle. Qi poured out of her hands in an unsteady stream, coating the kettle unevenly.

    Daphne suppressed a sigh. Would she have to teach this girl everything? Were you even a human being if you did not know how to properly brew tea?

    It did seem strange to Daphne how the people of this world liked to channel their qi through objects instead of through their own bodies. Perhaps they sought to raise the cultivation of the things around them, either to create artifacts and sacred relics … or even to increase their realm’s overall cultivation level itself? Her old master had pondered over such things, but there had never been a way to prove that was even possible, or find enough people willing to try.

    It was ambitious, but what cultivator did not bear that mark plainly on their soul? To reach the heavens and to rule as the gods did, was that not the pinnacle of ambition?

    A knock on her door interrupted her thoughts. Will, her junior brother, popped his head into the room. He’d been one of three people assigned to her protection at her insistence, though her parents disapproved of the notion considering his past failure. It wasn’t that she was particularly fond of him, but she’d already gone to the trouble of remembering his name.

    “My lady, your cousin Blaise has come to visit,” Will said.

    “Let him in,” Daphne said. She’d been meaning to take his measure, and the sooner the better.

    Her cousin was tall, even among aristocrats. The heels he wore were not particularly high but he still towered over Daphne. His hair was not golden like hers, but dark, and he had sharp cheekbones. That was all that could be said about his features in good light. It was his luck perhaps that bedding someone often occurred at night, and so his partner would not have to gaze upon his pimpled face and pig-like snout.

    “I heard you wanted to see me, cousin?” Blaise said.

    “Wanted is a strong word,” Daphne said. How was her cousin like this? Had his cultivation deviated or were the scriptures given to him faulty in some way? Was he merely destined to die, the unfortunate casualty in a duel between a hero and an old monster? Daphne pitied him. “How have you been?”

    “I should be asking you that,” Blaise said, taking a seat across her. “Did I interrupt anything?”

    “I was merely wondering why the magpies were singing this morning,” Daphne said perfunctorily. “Would you care for some tea as we reminisce about the past and debate scripture?”

    Blaise’s thick eyebrows scrunched together. “You’ve been studying the Sayings of Syngian the Sage?”

    She had heard that name uttered in passing before, when Broken Nose swore an oath of penal service to her. It was a strange custom of these people to invoke the name of an immortal, for while Daphne might give proper deference to them, she did not think such beings would pay any attention to promises made on the earth below. “No, have you?” Daphne asked. If he had, perhaps it was best for her to avoid it lest her own cultivation deviate.

    “I’ve moved on to other things,” Blaise said, finding his lap interesting all of a sudden. “The accounts of Jaeson the Conqueror, Archystor Archibald’s Waging War … that sort of thing.”

    Tracey chose then to return with the tea. With Daphne’s awakened eyes, she could already tell it was not made properly. For one, the water was only hot, but not boiling. How could that even be considered proper tea? Even if it were boiling, she was not letting it cool to the right temperature before pouring!

    She suppressed another sigh. Tracey was going to be more work than she thought. She eyed her cousin as he drank the tea, preparing to lash out at Tracey for her poor work, but her cousin held his tongue. He clearly disapproved, but he held his tongue. Was he merely giving her face? A cultured man like him, being of noble birth, would surely know the tea was not made well.

    Instead, all he said was, “I see you have a new servant.”

    “Very new,” Daphne said. “Was the tea to your liking?”

    “It’s … acceptable.”

    She frowned. If Daphne had any lingering doubts before, she was sure now. His tone was too polite to be an arrogant young master, and that hinted at troubling deviations with his foundation. A young master ought to have stated his disapproval more harshly, and so long as he directed his criticisms at her servant, after she had asked, there would be no loss of face to herself. To be so polite about it … was he giving face to her servant? What need was there for that?

    One was courteous to those who had earned it. To give it freely to everyone only meant one thought themselves weak compared to everyone.

    After all, arrogance was the writ of the best, and courtesy the fate of the rest.

    I will have to teach them that, Daphne thought, eyes moving from her cousin to her servant.
     
    Last edited: May 5, 2021
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  9. Autocorruptor

    Autocorruptor Corrupting Innocent Grammar

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    Jeez, Daphne has a really fucked up worldview.
     
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  10. Scopas

    Scopas I trust you know where the happy button is?

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    Man, I wonder how long it'll take before "Tracey" introduces something interesting and/or embarrassing into Daphne's cup?

    But, judging by the fact that this is an otome setting, and Daphne is clearly the antagonist, I'm betting that Tracey will either somehow beat her or teach her the ways of friendship.

    Good chapter, Halt!
     
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  11. twinesper

    twinesper Getting some practice in, huh?

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    It seems pretty normal and appropriate for xianxia to me. But yes outside of xianxia I can easily see it being considered messed up. Good job to the author for that.
     
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  12. nick012000

    nick012000 Gone for Good

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    So, this is an otome setting, right? I'm wondering how she's going to react to the various love interests showing up. Like, if some sexy vampire nobleman shows up would she be like "Corpse immortal? No thanks!"
     
  13. Threadmarks: 12: Courtesy?
    Halt

    Halt Making the rounds.

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    Chapter 12: Courtesy?

    The ordinary woman is always doing things, yet many more are left to be done. When nothing is done, nothing is left undone. This was wei wu wei, the dao of doing non-doing.

    There was no need for Daphne to scheme out how to better the foundations of her lessers, it would simply be with time. Everything would fall into place. Not that she expected any gratitude from them. When the best rulers achieve their purpose, and fulfill their aims, their subjects will say: “we did it ourselves”. Such was the way of things. Daphne was above such things, for to care about people’s approval was to be their prisoner.

    WIthin the walls of the Middle School was a vast estate at one with nature, with many groves and gazebos half-hidden by long, twisting lines of colorful hedges or old trees. Thus, even so close to the beating heart of the sect where young masters and misstocrats traded pointers with each other, it was easy to seclude oneself from sight. It was in one of these places that Daphne had brought her retinue.

    For hours now, she had been honing her body while her cousin watched dumbfounded. For one’s body to attain a jadelike quality, one had to do a thousand strikes with the fist, a thousand swings of a sword, and a thousand steps of a dance.

    After the first ten minutes, Tracey joined her in her exercise, though she struggled with it far less. Her physique was not bad at all, though still not perfect. This was merely physicality, not enough to reach the apex! Still, it was her best trait yet.

    “Lady Daphne,” Tracey asked with a slight pant, “why the sudden interest in fighting?”

    “What’s the harm in it?” Daphne asked.

    “It’s just … a woman such as yourself has knights and many followers to defend your honor,” she said.

    “You’re a lady of a house external,” Blaise added. “When would you ever need to fight?”

    “I am the lady of a margravate house,” Daphne replied. “When would I ever not need to fight? Our home is at the edge of two great regions long known for their enmity.” She turned to Tracey. “I have knights, but should one leave their fate solely in the hands of others?” One could not reach the heavens with that attitude.

    “Begging your pardon, Lady Daphne,” Tracey said, wiping away a trickle of sweat from her forehead, “but you were never interested in martial affairs last year. Why the sudden change?”

    “Were we ever so close before,” Daphne said, “that you can claim to have known me?”

    Tracey bowed her head. “I wouldn’t dare presume to be familiar with your esteemed self,” she said. “For someone like me, it is only prudent to take notes on those above myself.”

    There was certainly some wisdom there. To show others too much face, of course, could be just as detrimental to one’s cultivation, but Daphne was entirely deserving of this respect, and so she would spare Tracey’s cheeks from the sting of her palms. “Tall trees require deep roots,” Daphne said to her.

    How could one withstand the tribulation of the heavens if one’s foundation was lacking? How could greater pains be withstood if lesser pains could break your spirit?

    Suddenly, there was a rustling among the bushes. Daphne did not fear discovery, for there was nothing to hide. She only practiced here instead of the war yards so as to not incite the many toads to lust after her swan meat. Whoever was approaching would be kept away by her knight escorts outside.

    Her maid stepped forward, bringing her a cup of freshly steamed green tea. Daphne took a sip, taking a moment to appreciate its bittersweet aftertaste, before setting the cup back down. It was a great virtue of Maid to be so well-versed in the dao of tea. Though she did not have the potential to be a true cultivator, it was still important to better oneself. The dao of tea was one of the great walls that stood between civilization and anarchy!

    It’s trade, after all, was essential to the cultivation of arrogant young states, for how else would they reach the Empire realm? The flows of goods circulated along the river and road meridians and through the city cores? Only when a state mastered the dual cultivation of trade and war could their dao principle be established—the natural law by which all of society was ordered.

    The rustling only grew louder and closer, and a man strode into her clearing. He kept his hair short and trimmed, like a crown of gold perpetually atop his head. But most striking about him were his bright eyes like a pair of silver stars, and the porcelain complexion of his skin—smooth and without flaw. He must have been a man of some importance that her knights dared not bar his path to her.

    Blaise stood from his seat in an instant and bowed. “Your Excellency.”

    Daphne tipped her head towards the tall stranger dressed richly in silk and satin. “Your Excellency,” she murmured. Excellency was a title reserved for the sons and daughters of the Son of Heaven, and there was only one prince meant to be here.

    Hadrian.

    It was good that her cousin was present. Based solely on his cultivation, she might not have looked twice at him, though his pure yang body was not unpleasant to look at. Still, could a person with such average cultivation really be a prince? It was not that Daphne thought he was weak. In a fight between them as things stood, surely he would overpower her as the sun’s light enveloped the moon, but she had expected … more. Regardless, giving him face was only right and proper.

    “Pardon the intrusion,” Prince Hadrian said, “I heard strange noises and I admit my curiosity got the better of me.”

    From the corner of her eye, she could see her cousin Blaise giving her a sidelong glance. She was the highest ranked noble present, and thus the only one fit to address him.

    “There’s nothing to forgive, Your Excellency,” Daphne said. “My servant and I were merely training our bodies.”

    “I see,” he said, eyes darting to the livery stitched onto Maid’s uniform, seeing as Daphne had stripped off a few layers of her dress for this endeavor. Not enough to be indecent, of course! She would not bring shame to her family in that way. “Lady Greenglade, I presume?”

    “Daphne Greenglade, Your Excellency,” Daphne said, kowtowing in the way of these people—her hands went to the hems of her skirt as her right foot went behind her left. Then, slowly, she bent both knees evenly with an ease born of many hours of practice.

    “Please, rise,” Hadrian said. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Daphne. I’d not thought you would be attending this year after the … unpleasantness.”

    She was getting tired of answering that question, but courtesy required her to give face here. “It would take more than a little trouble to keep me away,” Daphne said.

    “Such resilience is admirable,” he said, smiling at her. “I shall not keep you from your training any longer. Until we meet again, Lady Daphne.”

    She kept studying his body with her awakened eyes as he departed, tracing the flow of his qi through his dantian cores. It really was quite average for a young master, and still at the qi condensation stage! How was it possible that a prince was not a genius among geniuses?

    Perhaps … perhaps he simply had not awakened his nine secret bloodlines yet, like Daphne? If that was the case, it was understandable why his cultivation was still at the level it was at. He wasn’t much older than herself after all. While it was rare that a clan patriarch would let their sons cultivate at their own pace, some were known to do so in the belief that difficulties on their path to heaven would only deepen the roots of their cultivation.

    Was it so here?

    The other possibility, of course, was that this was a realm where crouching tigers and hidden dragons were as common as clouds. It was not impossible for a powerful cultivator to obscure the true state of their strength from those beneath them, though Daphne knew of few people who would go out of their way to do so.

    Only the wandering masters were fond of this practice, and they were a strange sort of people whose whims were beyond comprehension.
     
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  14. Autocorruptor

    Autocorruptor Corrupting Innocent Grammar

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    This makes no frikkin sense and I love it.
    Daphne, no. Daphne, stahp! Stop rejecting the dao of coffee, it will only make things worse!

    ”...”
    And the misunderstandings continue to pile up!
     
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  15. Scopas

    Scopas I trust you know where the happy button is?

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    Ugh, Daphne, you idiot...

    I'm really curious about what she's seeing with her "awakened eyes". Is she actually seeing the circulation of qi/chakra/spirit/magic/whatever through the bodies of those she observes? Or is this a residual hallucination, where her belief that she should be able to see such things is being confirmed by whatever mind-altering substance she took? I know that taking heavy doses of LSD can cause flashback hallucinations or other long term hallucinations - one of my friends can't drive because when light hits moving cars the right way they all blur into a continuous line - so I wonder if whatever suspect pill that Broken Nose provided can do the same.
     
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  16. Threadmarks: 13: Killing Intent
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    Chapter 13: Killing Intent

    The first day of classes found Daphne among the tiered seats, looking down into an open air arena. Their instructor was a man in his forties with a great beard and a cape that kept billowing despite the lack of breeze. Ten paces from him were several straw dummies dressed in farmer hats and tattered clothes more akin to rags.

    “This year,” Hystor Gerard began in his soft tone, though his words carried themselves to Daphne’s ears with ease, “we shall be moving on from the theory of the four classical elements to focus more on the practical applications of our spellcraft.”

    His words caused her lips to contort into a heavy frown—not because she wished to know more theory, she knew plenty of scriptures and secrets already, but because he had said there were four elements when there ought to be five.

    The rest of his speech was uninspired—some talk about changes to this year’s study. It amounted to having a lot more free time to use as they pleased and to explore things which interested them, all euphemisms for “cultivate on your own time, you should know how by now”. All quite sensible.

    Gerard drew his sword, a thing of beaten bronze inlaid with a cursive script. They were too far and too small to make out even with Daphne’s sharp eyes, but she suspected they were array formations of some sort. With an exertion of will, she called upon her qi sense to witness workings beyond the material world, and what she saw shook her to her very dantian core.

    The sword’s edge had turned into a scalding red as qi coated it, but it was not just any qi. The hystor had honed it with pure yang fire, which was a powerful elemental technique, and he did so with contemptuous ease. If that were merely it, Daphne would have gained great respect for the old monster instructing them, but he was also utilizing earth qi at the same time! To master two elements marked one as a genius among geniuses!

    But it did not end there.

    With the slightest twitch of his sword, his killing intent was unleashed. Daphne had been through countless bloody battles and had many experiences where she'd had a close brush with death. She had no fear even when she faced armies or demons. But right now, even she could not help but tremble with morbid awe before the pressure their instructor was releasing. It was as if he was a bloodthirsty beast that wanted to tear them to pieces.

    In the time of a half-breath, wind blades curved out of the air before him, dicing the paltry rags on the training dummies. Not even a scrap of cloth held onto any of them, yet not a single straw was cut. What precise control too! Indeed, if Daphne were to recount this story, it would take more time to utter two words than the actual execution of his technique.

    “Water, earth, fire, and air,” Hystor Gerard said. “You all have spent the past four years learning how to command each of these elements by themselves, but now you will command all of them together.”

    Daphne’s jaw nearly dropped. Only nearly, for she was a lady, and it wouldn’t be proper to look impressed with anything. She had to be like ice.

    Wind was not part of the five classical elements, and it sounded as if the qi here was understood as the eight trigrams, though they were missing half the concepts like thunder, mountain, lake, and heaven. Still, she would not dare question their knowledge now after such a display of power.

    To command four such concepts at once … did he have some divine bloodline? Was he a hero of his own journey?

    Perhaps most shocking of all to Daphne was that none of those around her, not even her cousin Blaise, looked surprised by his declaration. As if all present had already come to expect this, as if this were normal.

    “You have learned power, but now you will learn control,” Hystor Gerard continued in the High Speech. “Power without control is nothing. What use is it to blow up mountains to crush an ant? If you burn farmland to kill an army, have you not harmed yourself as well? If you must swing your sword, swing once and be done with it.”

    Daphne grasped some truth behind that. After all, one did not use three moves to end a doggy life when one was enough.

    “The hystors magic is quite impressive,” Daphne whispered to her cousin.

    “It’s the same as always though?” Blaise said. “Any graduate would be expected to be equally as capable.”

    “And many of us graduate?” she asked.

    Blaise gave her a queer look, but humored her with a response nevertheless. “We’re stoneborn, Daphne. It’s expected that we do. Among the strawborn, perhaps failing would not be seen as a failing, but one cannot even inherit their family’s estate without passing the trials.”

    That was only good sense. An arrogant young master could not become patriarch if he were not strong himself, and a hero could not ascend to the heavens without many trials. Thus, this sect emulated the ways of the universe and the great dao in order to prepare them for their life.

    The lecture concluded with an exhibition match, and the hystor called on Prince Hadrian but also the young lord of the House Eminent Morgan, to whom the Greenglades and all the Everbloom swore an oath of fealty too. Lord Martyn Morgan was in his last year in the school at eight and ten, and many beauties sought to ensnare him in an engagement before he departed.

    Both young men drew runesteel swords as whispers broke out in the arena.

    “Their magic is quite formidable,” Daphne said, taking great care to use the terminology of these people. “Prince Hadrian has called on a great deal of wind, while his opponent favors earth.”

    Blaise glanced at her. “How could you possibly know that? They haven’t even struck the first blow yet.”

    She raised a brow at him. “Because I have eyes. It’s plain as day to me.”

    Then they exploded into violence, to her eyes like two arching stars set to collide. Only Prince Hadrian stopped dead eight paces away, pivoting with his leg as he unleashed the wind in his sword into a slicing gale.

    Martyn seemed to have anticipated the move just as Daphne had, charging through it as earth coated the leather armor he wore for the day. Amazingly enough, the wind did not even leave a scratch on him.

    “Fire now for the prince,” Daphne said, as the qi sharpened the sword with an otherworldly edge.

    “Fire sharpens, wind lengthens, earth hardens,” Blaise murmured, no longer looking at the exhibition below. It sounded like a chant.

    The exhibition ended in a draw soon after, arranged no doubt so that neither party would lose face before the crowd.

    A gust of wind blew by. “How did you know what they were going to do?” Blaise asked again, in a lower voice now and using not the High Speech which every aristocrat knew, but the Edenian language favored by the peasants of the southern Everbloom.

    “Like I said, I saw it.”

    “Keep your voice down,” Blaise hissed, eyes darting around. “My silencing spells are not the best, and someone could still steal our words. Have you discovered a new spell? Something that lets you see the deeper workings of magic?”

    “Are you saying you cannot see as I do?” Daphne asked.

    “No one can,” Blaise said.

    That was … troubling. Qi sensing was one of the first things one learned to do, before even condensation began. How could you concentrate what you did not know was there after all? And all those present were surely already in various stages of qi condensation, so all of them ought to be able to see as she was.

    Still, it was not to her knowledge some special scripture, nor could she say she had discovered what every cultivator knew how to do in her old life.

    “Later. Don’t speak of this to anyone,” Blaise whispered, as the wind around them died down.

    When Daphne’s attention returned to the hystor below, he was speaking of a tournament. Ah, something familiar at last! Surely she would win a great prize by winning that competition.
     
    Last edited: Apr 27, 2021
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  17. Autocorruptor

    Autocorruptor Corrupting Innocent Grammar

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    My guess is that this instructor is using a tad of wind magic or something to make is cape billow, because it looks frikkin awesome.
     
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  18. Scopas

    Scopas I trust you know where the happy button is?

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    I'm loving how impressed Daphne is by this display of presumably basic magical skill. It bodes well that she won't just be able to effortlessly roll over everybody.
     
  19. twinesper

    twinesper Getting some practice in, huh?

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    Nice to see she isn’t completely OP and there are some elements where magic beats out chi.
     
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  20. Threadmarks: 14: Trading Pointers
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    Chapter 14: Trading Pointers
    “You can’t seriously be thinking of entering the tournament,” Blaise said in an exasperated tone as they walked out of the arena at the end of class.

    Daphne frowned at him. “Of course I’m joining,” she said. Not only had the heavens presented her with another encounter to triumph over, but the prize she’d earn would certainly be of use to her cultivation. Already she had let slip two opportunities—while shopping, and a guest of Broken Nose’s companions—to fail a third time would be a great shame. One could not just rely on the heavens presenting one with a limitless amount of opportunities for there were other heroes being tended to as well.

    “Cousin, be reasonable,” Blaise said. “This is your first year walking the path of the iron fist, and you’ve never shown talent for the sword before.”

    “Broken Nose,” Daphne said, “step forward.”

    He obeyed without hesitation. “Yes, my lady?”

    “Recount to my brother what I did to you.”

    “I heard all about that,” Blaise said, waving Broken Nose away. “He’s strawborn, Daphne. Perhaps he has some middling talent at magic, but anyone who actually showed potential would have been accepted into one of the Six Schools and found a sponsor. Beating him is like crushing an ant—it’s nothing to brag about.”

    That was true enough. “I’m the heir to House Greenglade. I would not have my family lose face by refusing to represent them,” Daphne said.

    “What loss of face is there in knowing where your strengths lie, and acting appropriately?” Blaise asked. “Only fools compete where they are weak. Is this some ploy to pique the prince’s interest in you? Because it’d be far more beneficial if you focused your efforts on what you’re actually good at.”

    She narrowed her eyes at his insolence. As if she would ever debase herself just to capture the attention of a man, when naturally they should already be paying her attention. “Who are you to tell me what I am or am not good at?”

    “I’m just concerned for you,” Blaise said. “The tournaments are serious business, and you could end up badly hurt. Take some care of yourself!”

    “I think you underestimate me,” Daphne said.

    “I think you overestimate yourself,” Blaise said. “Every stoneborn aristocrat that you’ll face will have years of experience on you. They’ve trained for this, and you haven’t.”

    If only you knew, Daphne thought wryly. The young masters and jade beauties may have trained, but had they fought against demons? Had their lives ever truly been threatened yet? Were countless hours of martial stances drilled into their muscles that they could execute it while half-awake and hungry?

    “You’d be hopelessly outmatched,” Blaise continued.

    “So you believe,” Daphne said. “Let us put it to a test then.”

    He raised a brow at her. “You want to duel me?”

    Daphne nodded. “If I win, I compete without further protest from you.”

    “And if you lose, you’ll withdraw?” Blaise asked.

    “I won’t lose,” Daphne said.

    Blaise held out his arm towards her. “Shall we seal this with an oath before the gods then?”

    “Does my word no longer suffice for you?” Daphne asked. This strange custom of these people rearing its head once more. She humored him, and grasped his arm as he grasped hers. “Speak your words then.”

    “Eirini, oh god of war and peace,” Blaise began, “bear witness to our mutual oath. Should I, Blaise Greenglade, be the victor of this duel, then let my cousin, Daphne Greenglade, withdraw herself from this year’s Middle School Tournament. If I be the vanquished, then let no more words part from my lips protesting her entry. May this oath bind me, or may summer scorch my skin black.”

    A minor punishment for a minor matter. As Daphne understood it, there was nothing incorrect about how he’d worded his oath, and so she responded as was expected. “Let it be so.”

    “Let it be so,” Blaise said. With that, their bargain was struck. “All that remains now is for us to set a time and place.”

    “How about now?” Daphne asked. The sooner this was done with, the better. Some things really ought not be delayed, like slapping down arrogant toads and upstart peasants. They might get ideas.

    “Now?” Blaise asked. “But it’s nearly time for lunch.”

    “It’s a duel,” Daphne said. “It won’t last that long.”

    He snorted. “Fine. If you’re so eager to lose, let’s have at it then.”

    They reversed course, heading back towards the arena. A gaggle of richly dressed young women crossed paths with them, all of them sporting the latest fall fashion—which meant a silk outer dress that ended at one’s knees, high-heeled fur boots, and a sapphire bracelet. It was a look that suited them well.

    “Lady Daphne,” one of them greeted. Genevieve, if she remembered correctly, who was from a House Nominal. While not from a clan as great as her own, this Genevieve was still the daughter of a clan head and that meant something. “We were just headed to lunch. Would you care to join us?”

    “Perhaps another time,” Daphne responded in as courteous a tone as she could muster. It was important to give face to those of good standing, for if one insulted every young master and jade beauty they met, one would spend their whole life bogged down by challenges and duels instead of literally anything else. “My cousin has agreed to trade pointers with me.”

    “She means a duel,” Blaise said.

    Genevieve’s brow rose at that. “I wish you the best of luck then,” she said. “Maybe you could join us for tea tomorrow afternoon though? We’re planning a picnic out in the woods.”

    She knew not what this picnic was meant to be, but out in the woods was where the qi was strongest so perhaps it was their word for cultivation? “That sounds lovely,” Daphne said. If nothing else, cultivating a good relationship with a woman who clearly had good taste in clothing couldn’t hurt her any.

    Genevieve beamed at her. “I’ll send a servant to inform you of the details later on.”

    “I look forward to it,” Daphne said, tipping her head to the side.

    “I won’t keep you then,” the other girl said, letting them move past her and her coterie.

    The arena was already empty of life besides her and her cousin, which was just as well. The matter at hand was one that was best kept within the clan, for to outsiders they must appear to be of one will and one mind. To show dissent was to court death, for one can only count on enemies to pounce on one’s weakness!

    They stood ten paces apart, as was customary, and Blaise gave her a look. “You can’t seriously be expecting to fight me without a sword of your own.”

    “Mother didn’t grant me one,” Daphne said.

    “Gee, I wonder why,” Blaise said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “This only proves my point you know.”

    Ah, this was really too much! “If you weren’t my cousin,” Daphne said calmly, “I, your father, would not be so merciful and leave you with your body and core intact.” He was, she kept reminding herself, the next in line to inherit, especially if she married the prince. To cripple him would be to weaken her own clan, and what sort of barbarian did that?

    She breathed out slowly, becoming aware of every inch of her skin and clothes. It was a good thing the corset beneath her dress fitted her well, and so would not impede what she was about to do. Her skirt too had plenty of fabric in it, and so kicking would not be an issue.

    He blinked at her. “You’re my cousin, not my father?”

    “And you’re not paying attention,” Daphne said. She stomped the ground with her heeled shoe, causing her yin energy to drain out of her and into the world, then lifted her leg above her head. This body did not have much in the way of strength yet, but it was supple enough for her to execute this technique! “Ice Queen’s Kiss!”

    Sharp shards of ice bloomed into existence in the air around her, and launched themselves at Blaise. His eyes widened at the secret technique of her Elegant Swan Sect.

    Her cousin drew his bronze sword in haste, letting fire energy pour into it as he parried one icy dagger and tried to dodge the rest. He was not entirely hopeless, Daphne supposed, for a lesser cultivator would have been incapacitated in the face of her opening attack, though that a few shards here and there nicked at his clothes and drew shallow lines of red on his arms showed he had much to learn.

    “You’re still not paying attention,” Daphne chided, already a half step away from him and well within face slapping distance. For while Blaise had spent all his attention on the icy projectiles, he had taken his eyes off of her completely. Such a mistake would be fatal if this were a real fight!

    She’d drawn the dagger hidden within her sleeves already, and was thrusting it at him—only for her to stumble at the last second as earth energy flowed out of her cousin. A piece of stone jutted out of the formerly even floor in an unnatural bump, robbing her strike of any strength.

    Quick thinking on Blaise’s part.

    Still, her center mass was still moving towards him, so Daphne improvised, turning her forward motion into a perfect somersault, with her foot slamming down on her cousin’s head.

    He groaned from the ground. “Yield! Yield!” He eyed her warily. “Who the hell taught you to fight like that?”

    “Does it matter?” Daphne asked. “I won.”

    “You’ll win one fight in the tournament, and no more if you stick to that style,” Blaise said. “Opening with a spell that flashy is always a gamble, and once your opponent knows you favor it, you won’t catch a second one off guard.”

    Daphne shrugged. “Little is lost.”

    “Little is lost?” Blaise repeated, disbelief soaking his every word. “Do you even have enough magic right now to heal a cut or extend the edge of your weapon? Spells like this look nice, but there’s a good reason we channel our magic through weapons when we can, and not attack with them directly.”

    Daphne nodded. Though she had won, her cousin’s words were not untrue. She was feeling rather drained of qi, more than she had expected from an attack like she’d launched. She had to remember that her cultivation was not what it used to be, and so she could not be frivolous with her yin energy.

    “You want to win this tournament, you’ll need to be planning not just for the next fight, but the one after that,” Blaise continued.

    “Why the sudden interest in helping me?” Daphne asked.

    “You’re still my cousin, and you’re still a Greenglade,” Blaise said, pushing himself off the ground and dusting himself off. With an exertion of will and a quick stomp of his feet, he flattened the arena once more. “If I can’t dissuade you, then the next best thing is to make sure you succeed. Also why do you scream your spells like that? You’re giving away your attack.”

    “Does it matter if an ant knows where my fist will land?” Daphne asked. “It is their fate to be defeated, as it is mine to be victorious. The rest is to impress those watching.”

    “Anyone who can recognize your spellcraft ought to be suitably impressed, or they’re not worth impressing,” Blaise said.

    Perhaps there was some arrogance in this young master after all.
     
    Last edited: May 5, 2021
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  21. Autocorruptor

    Autocorruptor Corrupting Innocent Grammar

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    Wait wait wait, this is middle school?! He is swearing an oath to the gods for a Middle School tournament? Ahahahaha! :D
     
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  22. Scopas

    Scopas I trust you know where the happy button is?

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    Well, that was... interesting. I suppose that she wouldn't be a xianxia protagonist if she was able to hear or respond to wisdom or reason, so her actions make sense. And considering that she's the protagonist, her foolishness will likely be rewarded.

    I kinda hope she's riding for a fall, though. It'd be interesting to see how she justifies a complete loss to herself.
     
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  23. Threadmarks: 15: The Duality of Face
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    Halt Making the rounds.

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    Chapter 15: The Duality of Face

    Daphne arrived at the gates of the Middle School, where Genevieve’s servant had told her they would be assembling. The midday sun was warm against her fair skin, but not scalding, so she waved away Maid when she brought out a parasol of swan feathers to shade her with. Summer was truly well and over now.

    She was riding atop Jade—her pegasus, while Maid had borrowed a horse from one of her knights. It appeared they would be riding out into the woods, which suited Daphne just fine. Like her old master said, the deeper into seclusion, the better the cultivation! He was a monster who had long perfected the Dao of Disappearance, and used it frequently on her and her fellow disciples.

    “Lady Daphne!” Genevieve greeted with a cordial nod. She was dressed in dyed leather from boots to bosom, and a pearl necklace wrapped itself around her tall neck. A manservant followed her every movement, making sure not even a drop of sunlight touched her light, auburn hair. “You came.”

    “I agreed to attend,” Daphne said. “I am a woman of my word.”

    “You are a credit to your family,” Genevieve said. “Only, I thought since Lady Victoria was also coming that you might reconsider.”

    Victoria of House Vyne, Daphne remembered from her studies. She was from a margravate house like herself, and a jade beauty equal to her in status and standing though she was not the heir of her house. Her qi Daphne had no measure of, but she had learned lessons in the past days of underestimating these disciples. Their dantian cores were small, but deep, and their versatility with the elements was nothing to joke about! Even with instruction from her cousin, she remained largely limited to using water and ice, and the basic applications of the other elements of this realm.

    Did she have some rivalry with this Victoria? If she did, no one had thought to remind her, so how serious could it have been?

    “Among the likes of us, honor must be met with honor and courtesy with courtesy,” Daphne said. This was the unspoken law even among immortal cultivators of the same rank, for to engage in bloodshed over every petty quarrel would not only leave one weakened enough to be destroyed by a third party! Fighting was restrained to its proper spheres—at tournaments and restaurants, or while trading pointers at a gathering, and often between those of equal rank.

    Exceptions existed, of course, for ants who did not give face to their betters, but as her master liked to say: “I am not addicted to killing. They are just addicted to courting death!”

    Genevieve smiled at her. “You’re as refined as always, a true flower among those of the velvet glove,” she said. “I admit, I was surprised to hear you were taking up classes about war this year … and then you signed up with the tournament too!”

    “There are many things I still do not know,” Daphne said. “It is important to remain open to new experiences, so that one’s comprehension of the world is ever more complete with each day.” She paused, before asking, “Is it really so strange for me?”

    “It’s just you’ve never shown an interest before,” she said. “And you gave your patronage to that new servant too.”

    “You heard about that?”

    Everyone heard about that,” Genevieve said. “The lady of a house external does not give her patronage without everyone knowing by the end of the day.”

    “My patronage?” Daphne asked. “I made her a servant.”

    “Sure, for now,” Genevieve said, waving at another arrival. “But you must be considering a formal extension of patronage if you’ve taken such a keen interest in that village bumpkin.”

    She could not truthfully say she was not. “I’ve thought of making her a disciple,” Daphne confessed. “It remains to be seen if what I saw in her was correct.” Many disciples showed potential in the beginning, but sects were known to trim their branches from time to time. Even the wisest do not see all ends, nor recognize all heroes at the start.

    “What is it that you do see in her, if you don’t mind me asking? Was there some potential that everyone has missed, even the hystors? They were withdrawing their patronage over her soon after all,” Genevieve said, before quickly adding. “I dare not tempt her away from your service now that you’ve shown your interest. It’s curiosity on my end.”

    “She has a poor foundation,” Daphne said, “but in some ways, making it as far as she has as an orphan is commendable. With the right support, and the hystors are hardly that, perhaps she could be more … or perhaps she merely got lucky a few times? I do not know the answer, but it is a small matter for me to investigate.”

    Genevieve fell silent, a thoughtful look etched on her face. A few more minutes passed before all the ladies and lords had gathered, and their mounted party departed through the iron-wrought portcullis. It was a curious thing that many of the others had brought a knight or lesser retainer with them. The surrounding lands were not so dangerous, nor was there any word of bandits nearby. Besides, as the host, Genevieve had brought on a small host to ensure the safety of all present which was only right and proper of her.

    Their destination was not a secluded mountain peak (not that the nearby hills could dare be called mountains), or some lake infused with spiritual energy. No, their destination turned out to be a grove of oaks and apple trees.

    The servants laid out chequered blankets upon the grass which did not look like cultivation mats to Daphne. She was definitely sure they weren’t cultivating when the baskets were opened, filling the clearing with the smell of sweets, wine, and sweet wine.

    No matter what some masters said, consuming spirits behind closed doors did not make it cultivation!

    The qi here was stronger than back home, but it was not so much more than the school’s that it was worth the effort of venturing out. Nor could she begin cultivating when the men and women around her began gossiping like hens. Now, she was not one to shy away from such news, for every good lie had a seed of truth in them, but did their topics of conversation have to be so dull? Who cared that this knight was sleeping with that lady, or that some heiress had taken a liking to a strawborn peasant? What importance were these things in the grand scheme of the dao?

    Daphne could forgive many things. Being boring was not one of them.

    “Oh, Lady Daphne, I didn’t see you there!”

    Daphne glanced at the girl who’d spoken. It took her mind a moment to decipher her identity, but she was fairly sure this was Lady Victoria. She had a bright smile, all teeth and cutting, and wore something closer to a ballgown than an outdoor dress. She wore her own ransom, arms and fingers rich with rings and cuff bracelets, while smaller bands of silver adorned her braided hair.

    “Then you ought to open your eyes more often,” Daphne said.

    Her eyes narrowed, and she brought out a silk fan. “It’s just I didn’t expect to see you back so soon. After the business last year, and then your kidnapping near the end of summer ... tell me, has your family caught those who dared lay a hand on you?”

    The chatter closest to them strangled into silence as those around them held their breaths. Daphne understood why. This Victoria was challenging her, and prickling at the face of House Greenglade.

    “They are being hunted down,” Daphne said. “It’s no matter when they are caught. Is there anywhere beneath the sun they can hide from my family?”

    “Certainly not with your family’s signature spell,” said one of the women helpfully. Others around her tittered their agreement. She was a junior who was giving her face. Daphne made a note of her features, and her prominent, full lips that were red as the cherry blossoms.

    “Of course, of course,” Victoria said, “but I think it’s clear the strawborn were the tools of another? After all, it is a deathwish to lay hands on the likes of us, and they would have known that. Only a powerful benefactor would have emboldened them to act so rashly.”

    “So powerful that they must achieve their goals through their lessers?” Daphne asked. “The bandits will be found, and then they will talk.” Men always talked—whether it was bragging to friends, boasting to beauties, or betraying secrets under torture.

    Victoria laughed. “I admire your confidence. You’ve even gone so far as to enter the tournament this year, when many in your position might have kept their heads down.”

    “I am from a margravate house,” Daphne said, realizing now that this was no mere outing. Here they were, consuming food and drink … surely this counted as a restaurant! “It is only right that we show our strength.”

    “Ah, still clinging to that old title,” Victoria said with a smile full of mocking mirth. “House External Greenglade has many sworn knights and retainers in the school, the same as mine, but you yourself are entering! Now that was a surprise. I suppose with Prince Hadrian here, you hoped
    to catch his attention with this?”

    Daphne picked up her bone porcelain teacup, sipping at it before replying. From the corner of her eye, she spotted one of these barbarians pouring milk and sugar of all things into hers. Truly these people were frogs in a well. “Hope?” She scoffed. “Hope is as hollow as fear. Both are phantoms that arise from thinking of the self. When we don’t see the self as the self, what do we have to fear?”

    Victoria frowned at her response, and for a brief while, the sound of silence filled the clearing as she deciphered the meaning behind her words. She was a toad who could not see Mount Tai, for she decided then to attack Daphne in other ways. At least she was just a fool, and not a great fool, for she was capable of changing tactics.

    Daphne could forgive many things. Being boring was not one of them.

    “I hear you’ve taken on a useless girl as your new servant too,” Victoria said.

    “You concern yourself with many things,” Daphne said. “I wonder how you find the time in the day.”

    Victoria ignored her quip. “It’s a bold move, extending your patronage to the likes of her when even the hystors have written her off their patronage lists.”

    “Must I do what others do merely because others do them?” Daphne asked. “Am I a sheep in need of a shepherd? House Greenglade is an ancient family. When we act, it is others that follow.”

    “Not when you’re burying gold in a pit like some Deeplander,” Victoria said. “There are better ways to waste your family’s fortune.”

    “You speak as if you already know her fate,” Daphne said.

    “She’s strawborn, and not a particularly talented one at that,” Victoria said. “To treat her as you do is insanity.”

    “Only if I fail,” Daphne said. “I have taken responsibility for her. I do not shirk from duty.”

    Victoria snorted. “You are so very confident in your servant, Lady Daphne, but words are merely words. How about a wager? Let your servant enter the tournament, and we shall see how well she fares against the likes of us.”

    AN: TLDR - According to my friend, my story is currently at rank 20 something on Royal Road’s Trending (which is awesome!). It also just turned week 3, making this week the easiest time for Daphne to get onto the front page (Top 7 Trending). If you wanna help Daphne ascend to the heavens and look down upon the strawborn beneath her heels, leave me a rating, review (or advanced review if you’re feeling very helpful) on RoyalRoad!

    Omake:

    I was contemplating the veracities of the universe beneath a stop sign one day when a wandering old monster came upon me. He asked, “Junior, what are you doing? The Last Ship in Suzhou is leaving soon.”

    I, of course, still being one of the many disciples residing in the Fledgling Court had to show this one great face, for he was likely to be senior to me based on the length of his beard. “Master, I am contemplating on the truths of the Trending Realm, but I fear my cultivation has reached a bottleneck. This Virtuous Son dares not show his face to the sect while in this miserable state.”

    The old monster tilted his head. “You are contemplating the Trending Realm at your stage? What is your Dao Principle?”

    “This junior follows in the footsteps of Master Se Lethe. This one strives to embody the Dao of Me-mes.”

    “Ah, a dangerous path to walk,” the old monster said, stroking his beard. “To stray by even the slightest inch to either side will be certain death and cripple your cultivation. Still, if you succeed, you might accomplish great things. Great, but terrible.”

    I kowtowed to him like the ant I was. “Master, you speak truly. If you have any insight to offer this one, I shall be forever grateful.”

    “Because you have shown me some face today, I can offer you some insights,” the old monster said. “The Dao Principle of Me-mes is indeed strong enough to let you reach the Trending Realm, even the Top of the Trending Realm is not impossible for you! But do you know what it is that gives me-mes their power?”

    “Please enlighten this one,” I said.

    “It is its power to live in the minds of others rent free. If you wish to ascend to the Top of the Trending Realm, you must spread your me-me far and wide. Second, you must believe!”

    “Believe?” I asked.

    “Believe,” he said. “Belief is the most important component of your dao principle! If you do not believe in it fervently, even in the face of the heavens, how can you survive their tribulation? Lightning and falling stars will test you, but you must persevere in the face of adversity!”

    “This one understands,” I said, not understanding at all. I had to contemplate upon his words more, for they were simple, yet profound!

    “You do not, but in time, you might,” he said. “Seclude yourself, and listen for the sound of silence. Then, you might begin to grasp the truth.”
     
    Last edited: May 5, 2021
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  24. Autocorruptor

    Autocorruptor Corrupting Innocent Grammar

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    And you are feeding their addiction. Like a drug dealer. Shame on you. :mad:
     
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  25. Scopas

    Scopas I trust you know where the happy button is?

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    I love the odd cultural context that restaurants have in Daphne's original world. Clearly, the only place that a gentleman or lady would fight would be in a tournament, or a restaurant. Restaurants are lawless places, with eternal conflict. This is known.
     
  26. Threadmarks: 16: The Pillars of Power
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    Halt Making the rounds.

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    Chapter 16: The Pillars of Power
    Cousin Blaise was waiting in her room when she returned, his nose buried in some history textbook about a battle. Was there really so much to write about? All that changed was the when, where, who, why, how, and how many—all trivial details when the outcome was the same!

    Ants get squashed. The junior that dares, dies.

    “Have you been here this whole time?” Daphne asked, taking her seat across him.

    “No,” Blaise said, eyes moving across the page one last time before he closed its covers with a snap. “I’ve been here maybe an hour? You’d be returning sooner or later.”

    “You could have just asked a servant to go get you when I did,” Daphne said.

    “I didn’t have much to do,” Blaise said.

    “You could train. You could go outside.”

    Blaise’s brow rose. “The girl who likes to go on and on about closed door training is telling me to go outside?”

    “The girl who went outside today is telling you there’s more to this world than can be found in books,” Daphne said. How would he ever capture the heart of a jade beauty if he never made a ruckus in a restaurant for her? Obviously that entailed first being in a restaurant! Her cousin might be lacking in looks, but his children need not be. For the sake of her family, she would ensure it. “So what brings you here?”

    “I said we’d be talking about what you saw in class later. It’s later.”

    “It’s been a day,” Daphne said.

    Blaise scowled. “Yes, and last I checked a day later is still later. You were surrounded by servants and sycophants all day yesterday, and today you had that picnic of yours. Now, dismiss your servants and we can attend to the matter at hand.”

    “Dismiss them for what?” Daphne asked.

    He sighed with great longsuffering. “Three can keep a secret if two of them are dead,” he said. “This is a matter that must be kept within the family.”

    “I’m afraid that’s not possible,” Daphne said, pointing at Tracey. “You see, I was going to teach her.”

    Blaise spluttered. “Teach? You can teach it and you want to teach a peasant before your own kin?”

    “Don’t be jealous,” Daphne said. It was unbecoming. Even a jade beauty much coveted like herself would one day learn to share with other jade beauties, particularly when a hero was involved. “I can teach you as well. It’s a small thing to do.”

    “What I take offense with is that you wish to teach her at all!” Blaise shouted. “You’ve gone from making her a servant to considering her as oathsworn in under a week! This spell of yours could be the pillar of our house’s power, and you’re just giving it away!”

    “Give us the room,” Daphne said, tone cutting as an icicle. She pinned her cousin to his seat with a stare, and only when the last servant left did she speak again. “I will not be spoken to in that way. Not by you, and not by anyone. Perhaps your memory fails you, but I remain the heir until otherwise.”

    He nodded slowly. “My apologies for raising my tone.”

    Daphne nodded back. “Now, what is the issue with making Tracey oathsworn?”

    “It’s a massive investment of resources. We’d have to arm and armor her, get her tutors to speed up her education, round out the gaps in her training…”

    “It’s one ‘spell’, as you said,” Daphne said, frowning.

    “A spell that you invented, and is still secret to the world at large,” Blaise said. “A spell that lets you predict the attacks of others somehow. It might very well be foundational to our future power, and you cannot just give it away without precautions. Many will covet it.”

    It seemed to her an exaggeration. Qi sensing was as basic as bullying. Then again, the people of this world cultivated differently… “Making her oathsworn protects it?”

    Blaise sighed. “No, not completely. With a spell like this, I would have preferred to keep it entirely within the family for a while. Making her oathsworn would be necessary if you insist on teaching her though, which I still am opposed to. We’d be binding her to us with oaths and obligations. The oathsworn are raised high by our hands so that they will be wary of falling. It is fear as much as duty which keeps them from treachery.”

    It sounded not unlike a hero’s affections—given to a girl for a brief time so that they would fear losing it to another. “We’ll make her oathsworn then,” Daphne said.

    His eyes peered into hers searchingly. “You’re really confident you can teach this spell, aren’t you?”

    “Why wouldn’t I be?” Daphne asked. Her word was her word, and she had no reason to fill this junior’s ears with deceit.

    “Because you’re not even seventeen and not even a graduate,” Blaise said. “People have spent their whole lives attempting to craft new spells, and few of them ever succeed. For you to do it so young…”

    “You lack faith,” Daphne said. “I am a genius among geniuses. Even the heavens know this.”

    “You might well be,” Blaise said. “Can you tell me about it? What does your spell really do?”

    “It is … magic sensing, I suppose,” Daphne said, taking care to translate the idea into the local terminology. “When one becomes attuned with their body, and the flow of magic in the universe, one can not so much see as feel the magic of others. With some training, differentiating between the elements is very possible.”

    Blaise was locked in contemplative silence for several long breaths. Then, he said, “So that’s how you did it. How profound!”

    “Really, it’s simple,” Daphne said, “but even the simplest things are profound.”

    “Tell me again why you insist on teaching that serving girl of yours?”

    “House Greenglade was challenged,” Daphne said. She recounted to him what Victoria had asked of her in front of their peers.

    Blaise cursed silently. “As you say, it was a trap. We cannot back out of backing Tracey now that such an issue has been challenged. Had it not, there would be no loss of face, but Victoria has brought the matter to the attention of all. They will think it is her words which have shaken our confidence in your choice. That would be intolerable.”

    Her cousin could be simple, but he understood some things in this world. “We can only ensure that she succeeds now, and the best way to do that is by teaching her,” Daphne said. “Being able to predict the attacks of your enemy would be of benefit in a duel.”

    “I don’t see any other choice,” Blaise said. “Revealing to the world that we have a new spell in hand at the tournament is not the worst way of showing your hand. It would certainly catch Prince Hadrian’s attention too.”

    “We’re in agreement then.”

    “Yes,” Blaise said. “How soon can you start teaching us?”

    “That depends,” Daphne said. “Broken Nose, Tracey, attend to us.”

    “You know his name’s Rhian right?” Blaise said.

    “I only remember the names of important people,” Daphne said. “Why do you know his name?”

    Blaise smiled wanly. “It’s only good manners to know the name of the man I’m going to kill one day.”

    That was fair enough, Daphne supposed.

    “You called for us, Lady Daphne?” Tracey asked.

    “Yes,” Daphne said. “Broken Nose, I need two more of those pills you acquired for me. How soon can you procure them?”

    He scratched the back of his neck. “I’ll have to make a trip to the nearest town to check. Don’t rightly know the people here.”

    “You’ll leave at once then. We’re in a hurry.”

    “You shouldn’t become too reliant on ‘em,” Broken Nose said. “They’re not supposed to be addictive, but I’ve seen a few mates of mine go crazy if they go without.”

    “It’s not for me,” Daphne said, tilting her head. “It’s for them.”

    “You want to feed me a pill?” Tracey asked with a worried look.

    “Don’t worry,” Daphne said with a smile. “It’s not an aphrodisiac.” That might have been the wrong thing to say, because she looked even more worried now. “Really, it’s harmless. Tell them, Blaise.”

    He blinked at her. “I don’t know which pill you’re talking about, but I’ve never tried one either.”

    Her jaw nearly dropped, but it would have been unseemly. She already knew that spirit stones either didn’t exist or were hard to come by in this realm, and if her cousin was not using pills either it would certainly explain why his cultivation was at its current level! Cultivating without pills was like fighting with one hand, or courting without an aphrodisiac!

    “I will awaken your eyes to the mountain,” Daphne declared.
     
    Last edited: May 5, 2021
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  27. Autocorruptor

    Autocorruptor Corrupting Innocent Grammar

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    Well..at least she is looking out for him? Although I suppose Daphne’s intervention would be...unwelcome.
    Isn’t this supposed to be “looking for?”
    Young Master Halt this humble disciple requests that you tell me if you know any practitioners of the Dao Of Brainbleach. I...require their services.
     
  28. Scopas

    Scopas I trust you know where the happy button is?

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    Oh man, Daphne is so fucking crazy. Like, I've got no psychological background, but she's really starting to feel like some sort of sociopath.

    I'm surprised that Blaise has such a strong opinion regarding Broken Nose, but I suppose his continued existence is an insult to his family, and perhaps he simply takes a hard line against (alleged) potential rapists. Who knows.

    Also, I wonder if Daphne's actually going to get addicted to the pills? That sounds like a bit of foreshadowing to me.
     
  29. Threadmarks: 17: Interlude - The Young Master
    Halt

    Halt Making the rounds.

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    Chapter 17: Interlude - The Young Master

    She’s getting smarter, Blaise thought as mist exploded outwards from Daphne, rolling off the makeshift arena. Dame Marian, a veteran of eight battles and a knight of eighteen years, peered at the fog with fear’s better respected cousin: caution. It was the first time he’d ever seen her worried while practicing with them, as if losing—no matter how slim the chances—was now within the realm of possibility.

    There were no fancy attacks this time from Daphne, no rain of ice shards or a whip of water to open with. She’d been moving away from such extravagances once an experienced warrior like Dame Marian became a pointed example of how it could go disastrously wrong for her. Daphne’s magic was largely untrained for the rigors of martial matters, and even the best knights would find winning duels using such tricks needlessly tiring.

    The fact was unless one had a signature spell to make channeling such direct magical attacks more efficient, the costs of such spells were too costly to be practical.

    This new trick of his cousin’s, while still largely wasteful given it was done without a proper medium, was many times better than her previous tactics. He couldn’t even call it a faulty one considering he knew about her capabilities. With her sensing spell, Daphne could see through the mist with ease while her opponent remained blind to her. Further, his cousin had developed a taste for pankration, the Old Ilyosi style of hand-to-hand combat. She was actually good at it too, and every duel he’d lost to her was when he allowed her to get within striking distance of his face.

    Daphne was being patient too. No sudden movements to give away her position, and every gust of wind Dame Marian sent to dispel the mist did not meaningfully improve her visibility. Quite a useful application of attrition, and he could see the knight becoming more nervous each second an attack did not come.

    “She might actually win this one,” Blaise muttered, wiping himself down with a towel that Rhian had offered him. Broken Nose, as Daphne liked to call him. He’d sworn before the Great Pantheon and the Divine Syngian that, one day, he would kill him for the dishonor of kidnapping a Greenglade. That day had not yet come, not while Daphne still thought to use him as a penal servant, but if he knew his cousin at all, she’d tire of him eventually.

    On that day, his vow to the Great Gods Above and the Divine Syngian would be met. Perhaps after he gets the pills, Blaise thought. Rhian had returned from the nearby town just yesterday, claiming that it would take up to a week before the locals could supply him with the goods in question.

    “The margravess is doing well,” Tracey said besides him, before sipping on a ladle of cool water.

    “Her mother is the margravess,” Blaise said. “Daphne’s title is Lady of the House External Greenglade, if you wish to be formal.” He explained it not for her sake, but Daphne’s, for a servant was a reflection on their master. If she could not get even the simplest of these courtesies right…

    “Why do you call it that?” Tracey asked. “This business about being a house external. None of the villagers near the Great Oasis call it that.”

    “That’s because they’re strawborn,” Blaise said. “Margrave is an old title of the Kingdom Ever Blooming, and the Emperor has seen fit to replace it since the Reunification. Technically, there are no more margraves just as there are no more kings.” It was a title that the other eminent regions favored, and it galled a little that His Highness had imposed it on them instead of imposing their preferences on others. Were they not the true and righteous heirs to the Six Sorcerers?

    There was nothing to be done, however. Lord Eminent Morgan had agreed, and there could be no dissent when the House Imperial and a house eminent were of like mind.

    “If it’s an old title, then why does Lady Daphne still use it?” Tracey asked.

    “Not every stoneborn house agreed to be rid of it,” Blaise said. It was a battle that they were losing, though slowly. In a hundred years, would anyone still remember these old honors and titles their family favored save for the most devout hystors? Alas, time marched onwards, heedless of mortal matters. “A word of advice—you best double your efforts in learning the courtesies.”

    Tracey blinked. “Whatever for?”

    “The prince is holding a masquerade ball to celebrate the harvest season,” Blaise said. “The whole school will be invited, but just because our identities will be concealed so that lessers and greaters might mingle freely does not mean you may abandon the necessary courtesies. You will just be treating us more like peers instead of peerage.”

    She gave him a determined nod. “I understand, my lord. I won’t disappoint.”

    “See that you don’t,” Blaise said, turning his attention back to the duel. Daphne was still waiting her opponent out, letting Dame Marian’s fear take its toll.

    “If you don’t mind me asking, why do we start school in the fall?” Tracey asked.

    He very much did mind, but it was better she asked him her silly questions rather than embarrass them before others. “When else would it start?”

    “I just mean wouldn’t it make more sense to let us return to our homes for the harvest or even for spring’s planting? Summer is hardly the busiest season of the year.”

    Blaise let out an exasperated sigh. “You,” he said, “are such a peasant. What makes you think the schedules by which the Six Schools are run on is based around farming?”

    “Over half the students here are strawborn. Most strawborn are farmers,” Tracey said.

    “Not all strawborn are the same,” Blaise said. “You live under thatched straw, while others live beneath spun gold. Here is where the sons and daughters of merchants and magnates gather too, that they might one day be accepted into the ranks of the stoneborn. Do you think for a second that farming is what concerns them?” Syngian save him from such nonsense.

    Slowly, she shook her head.

    “The likes of you,” Blaise continued, “are invited to these institutions so that the worthiest of you might be put to better use than mucking about in the soil like your ancestors have for seven generations. You are here that you might be picked out by us, or for the less fortunate, stay on with the school’s patronage to become hystors. The least of you are cast out, as you should know.”

    “I’m aware.”

    “You strawborn are as much a part of our experience as the gardens and classes,” Blaise said. “Do you know what it is us stoneborn do during the summer? What season it’s for? What god we worship most?”

    “We worship Eirini, the god of war and peace, for it is the season of either war or peace,” Tracey said.

    At least she understood that much. “When such wars are fought, it is us who must defend our keeps while our parents ride to war. That is why the Six Schools are run the way they are.”

    “But surely it’s not always about war? There will be years of peace too.”

    “There might be, but just because there is no war between the eminent regions does not mean conflict is at an end. There will always be disagreements somewhere between the stoneborn. Before the Emperor’s ascent, steel and sorcery were always the means of last resort,” Blaise said. “It’s what we’re bred for. It’s what will be expected of you as well, if you become oathsworn to our house.”

    He left her to ponder on those lessons. Just in time too, for Daphne was finally making her move!

    Out of the mist, she struck like a particularly angry goose, screaming each attack. Some habits died harder than others. Still, she put up a good fight, moving with grace around Dame Marian. It was not unlike a stream or a river—curving aside where the earth was hard, pushing at the softest spots, and always breaking through in the end. It was the same here as Daphne kept herself behind Dame Marian as much as possible, or out of her direct line-of-sight, striking at joints and weaknesses with too much intent to be the random lashings of a madwoman.

    Here and there, he could make out bits of frost sticking to Dame Marian’s clothes wherever Daphne struck with her palms. A neat trick in his opinion. It wouldn’t leave one too exhausted magically, while creating a great deal of discomfort for your opponent. If one was lucky, they might even choose to divide their attention by melting the ice off, and such distractions could be fatal in a fight.

    His cousin lost in the end. Not for lack of skill, but because her body lacked the strength to truly harm a knight prepared for her. That would be rectified with time.

    More importantly, she showed great promise even to his eyes. There was a talent for violence there, a creativity that turned the simplest spells and applied them in profound ways.

    Perhaps that was what Daphne meant whenever she said something was “simple, yet profound?”
     
    Last edited: May 5, 2021
  30. Autocorruptor

    Autocorruptor Corrupting Innocent Grammar

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    Fun fact: pankration is an ancient Greek style of wrestling.
     
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