Forge of Destiny Prologue-Smelting

The carriage moved with impossible swiftness, Ling Qi observed as she gazed through the small window, the scenery outside a mere streak of green and brown. She knew she ought to feel thrilled, perhaps even awestruck, for she was witnessing the might of Immortals. It was something a humble girl like herself had never dreamed of experiencing.

Instead, a profound numbness settled over her. Absentmindedly, she swept a wayward lock of dark hair from her eyes, noting its length had grown past her ears once more. She was being transported to the Wall, the formidable mountain range marking the southern boundary of the Emerald Seas province. This carriage was headed for the Argent Sect nestled within those mountains, all because a daunting figure in a mask of fine porcelain declared she possessed the aptitude for Immortality.

This was the reason she sometimes heard sounds others couldn't, and sensed peculiar presences when she ventured to the city's edges, where the protective wards against spirit beasts were known to falter. She had always concluded she was simply a little mad.

A tomboyish, unrefined, and eccentric Ling Qi, who would flee rather than engage in her mother’s preferred doll play.

It had been a constant source of irritation in her younger years, listening to her mother's laments about her appearance and conduct, hearing the undisguised frustration in her voice whenever she spoke of her. Ling Qi was deemed too tall, her limbs too sturdy, her complexion too dark, and her features too angular and lacking in grace.

She couldn't bring herself to regret her departure. After all, it wasn't as if her Mother had made any significant efforts to locate her in the four years since she had run away. Ling Qi pushed the persistent strand of hair from her eyes again, directing her thoughts away from the past. It was a fruitless endeavor now; she would never blossom into someone like her Mother, and thus, she had left. She was free, even if that freedom meant confronting hunger and the biting cold, even if it meant frequent encounters with pain and fear. She might be unattractive, destitute, but she was undeniably herself, living life according to her own desires, which, to her, was the sole measure of importance. It had to be.

Which was precisely why this situation irked her.

She should have been overjoyed, the sole commoner from her city blessed with such talent... Would any other resident of Tonghou be able to hold their head high in her presence once her training was complete? Would even her Mother be capable of finding fault with her then? No, certainly not.

Yet, happiness eluded her, for once again, she found herself devoid of any real choice. She possessed no wealth, no influence. Even if she had sought refuge with her Mother, the woman could not have afforded the fees stipulated by the recruiter. Furthermore, refusal to accompany them to the sect would result in the forfeiture of her innate talent. The notion of something intrinsically hers being stripped away was an abhorrence she couldn't stomach.

Thus, upon concluding her training, she would be indebted to the Empire for eight years of military service. A mere pittance, she was assured, in the grand timescale of an Immortal's existence. Truthfully, she couldn't deny a certain thrill at the prospect of confronting the wind-riding mountain barbarians, like a character sprung from legend.

She simply detested being deprived of agency.

Ling Qi shook her head, turning away from the rapidly blurring scenery outside the carriage window. An unsettling quiet pervaded the carriage. More sorcery, she surmised, and despite her reservations, a faint spark of excitement ignited within her at the thought.

Still, hours had passed since their departure, and boredom had set in. Even at this remarkable velocity, her destination remained some distance away. So, rather than dwelling on past regrets, she resolved to direct her attention to the leather satchel resting on the seat opposite her. It held her meager belongings: a handful of coins, a change of clothes, and an old wooden flute she occasionally enjoyed playing. Her mother's music lessons were among her few cherished recollections.

It also contained items provided by the recruiter. Reaching out, Ling Qi grasped the bag and opened it. Peering inside, she ran her fingers over the bundle of grey cloth resting atop the contents. She marveled anew at the fabric's incredibly smooth texture. Her disciple's uniform, the man had called it. A provision for disciples of modest means, as ordinary attire would struggle to withstand the rigors of cultivation training.

A few other accoutrements were present: a hand mirror, a comb, and a sewing kit, amongst a scattering of other sundry items. She surmised the implication was that she should present herself in a more presentable manner upon arrival. She cast a glance down at her somewhat tattered brown shirt, trousers, and mud-caked sandals. Hardly the most imposing ensemble.

A sense of consequence, perhaps for the first time in ages, settled upon her. With little time before being ushered into the carriage, any effort had to be made now. Ling Qi’s gaze flickered toward the obstinately locked door on the opposite side, then back again to the window. Thankfully, the space was generous; the carriage appeared designed for multiple occupants. After a brief deliberation over the satchel’s contents, she slid the shutter closed and began her transformation.

Some time later, Ling Qi resumed her seat, a slight frown marring her features as she smoothed the impossibly soft gray fabric of her new attire. It was… adequate, though she hadn’t donned a dress in years. At least it lacked the constricting pinch of the garments her mother once insisted upon.

The outfit was layered, the lower half tailored for unrestricted movement, yet annoyingly loose around her hips, necessitating the sash be cinched and tied twice. Still, the wide, flowing sleeves offered potential concealment for her hands, perhaps even for other items with some ingenuity. The embroidered motifs of clouds and stylized wind patterns were rather pleasing.

A persistent sense of unease lingered. It felt peculiar to wear garments that likely exceeded a laborer’s monthly wage. Or perhaps this fabric was the Immortal realm’s equivalent of coarse sackcloth? She consulted the mirror in her hands. Thankfully, no cosmetics were provided, suggesting an absence of expectation for elaborate adornment.

A few hairpins, fashioned from what appeared to be painted bone, were included. She felt they complemented her striking blue eyes, her most favored feature. Such a hue was unique among her hometown peers. Yet, her attempt to arrange her hair had failed to prevent errant strands from falling across her face. Perhaps, she mused absently, some form of magic could manage such trivialities.

As she set the mirror aside and reached for the pristine sandals lying beneath the uniform, the carriage jolted abruptly, nearly pitching her forward into her bag. Instinctively, her hand shot out, gripping the window frame to regain her balance.

“Prepare yourself. We are nearing the entrance plaza,” the driver’s voice announced. He had struck her as less formal than she might have anticipated for an Immortal, offering a cordial greeting as she passed the two adults to board the carriage.

Intrigued, she lifted the shutter she had drawn across the window. They were now proceeding at a more deliberate pace along a winding mountain path. Remarkably, the carriage’s interior remained perfectly stable despite the incline.

“I shall be ready anon,” Ling Qi responded after a brief pause. The muffling effect on external sounds had vanished, she realized with a start, now distinctly hearing birdsong and the rhythmic clip-clop of the horse’s hooves.

“H-how much longer do I have?” she inquired hesitantly a moment later, a frown creasing her brow at the involuntary stutter. Nervousness gnawed at her, but she was determined not to show it; cultivating an aura of confidence, she had learned, was paramount.

“Oh, you have a few more minutes,” the man replied in a languid tone. “The Sect discourages haste on the mountain, at least for us who are bound to the ground.”

Ling Qi’s eyes widened. Was he hinting at aerial arrivals? She had heard tales… though she’d assumed such feats were primarily the purview of the mountain clans.

“Thank you. I shall only require a moment.” It felt odd to revert to the formal speech her mother had instilled, rather than the more casual cadence adopted in recent years, but it seemed prudent. If her mother had taught her anything correctly, it was that first impressions carried significant weight.

Dispelling such reflections for the present, she reached for the sandals, her expression hardening with resolve. Readiness was essential.

As the carriage finally drew to a halt, Ling Qi felt as prepared as circumstances allowed, given the uncertainty of what lay ahead. The driver had remained silent, as had she, engrossed in her effort to maintain focus and suppress the fleeting tendrils of anxiety.

A distinct thud sounded from outside, followed by the receding footsteps of the driver as he circled the carriage. She rose, unconsciously smoothing the creases in her new uniform. Shortly thereafter, another click echoed, and the door swung open, revealing the driver.

His countenance was veiled, making observation difficult. Adorning him was a peculiar, wide-brimmed hat from which dangled paper slips inscribed with arcane symbols. The hangings obscured his eyes, allowing only brief glimpses through the gaps. A high collar on his deep blue robe extended upwards, merging with the dangling slips and hiding the remainder of his face. Despite this concealment, he exuded an air of amusement, as if a smile played upon his lips.

“Need some assistance descending?” he inquired genially, extending a gloved hand toward her.

“I shall manage, thank you,” Ling Qi replied, projecting a confidence she did not entirely possess. After a brief pause, she lifted her now lighter satchel and carefully stepped down, mindful of her dress's hem.

Upon reaching the base of the steps, her surroundings came into view. They stood on a broad stone plaza, a platform hewn into the mountainside. The steep road they had ascended snaked past an ornate gate, which pierced the stone fence encircling the plaza before disappearing into the mist below.

A solitary edifice dominated the area: a substantial two-story structure crowned with a steeply pitched roof. It evoked the image of a temple, yet also the scholarly testing halls of Tonghou City. The plaza was interspersed with small, artfully arranged gardens, each featuring a towering peach tree at its center. A steady stream of individuals, clad in similar uniforms, entered the building, alongside a number of other distinctive carriages, each with its own uniquely attired driver.

“Perhaps you shouldn’t linger in plain sight,” the driver’s voice, tinged with amusement, startled Ling Qi from her observations. She glanced at him, then back towards the main building. He had turned away, occupied with unhitching the peculiar, blue-furred horses from their tack.

“You are among the final arrivals, so an Elder will soon emerge to outline the regulations. You’ve been assigned to Hall One,” he stated, patting a horse’s neck, eliciting a snort from the creature, as he turned back to face her.

Ling Qi still had not obtained a clear view of his face, yet the slight inclination of his head conveyed an impression of scrutiny, prompting her to unconsciously straighten her stance.

“Thank you,” she responded after a moment. “And… where exactly is Hall One? Is there anything else I ought to be aware of?”

“Through the main entrance. Simply follow the signage,” he replied dismissively, folding his arms. This movement caused the long sleeves of his robe to slide upwards, revealing that his gloves reached at least to his elbows. He paused, once more imparting the sensation of being closely assessed.

“The Elders will elucidate the rules. Exercise appropriate deference,” he added with a languid tone. “However… endeavor to cultivate alliances and proceed with haste. Those who stand alone often encounter difficulties. One cannot remain vigilant constantly, can they?” The edge of his imposing hat tilted, and she again sensed the phantom of a smile. “Consider it counsel from someone who has navigated similar circumstances.”

She… had never excelled at forging friendships, let alone sustaining them, but she could accept well-intentioned guidance with gratitude.

“My thanks once more. I ought to be going now.” Her voice carried a note of hesitation she would have preferred to avoid. She turned to proceed towards the building, then halted.

“May I inquire your name?” she asked. It felt improprietory not to introduce herself, at least to someone who seemed willing to offer assistance.

“Dong Fu,” he replied readily. “You are correct. Make haste. Lateness is ill-advised, and your name is already known to me.”

Ling Qi inclined her head in his direction and set off, moving as swiftly as her unfamiliar attire permitted.

The Sect’s central structure loomed before her. She harbored a profound certainty that life would irrevocably change once she crossed that threshold.