Forge of Destiny Smelting 2
Previously on Forge of Destiny...
Dong Fu’s prediction proved accurate. The signals were quite evident. Upon her entrance into the expansive foyer, only a sparse number of other youths clad in silver robes remained, and none of them afforded her more than a cursory glance.
Dominating the rear wall of the entrance hall was an imposing ebony wooden board. A banner, affixed to this board, clearly laid out the directions intended for new disciples. The immaculate wooden interior of the structure was, to be frank, a little disquieting. It possessed an unnatural sheen; the floor was polished to such a degree that it resembled a mirror, and not a single scuff or mark could be detected anywhere, let alone a speck of dust.
However, she could not dwell on this observation for too long, as she was among the final arrivals. As she approached the sliding doors that marked the entrance to Hall One, the indistinct sounds of a multitude of people conversing in hushed tones could be heard from within.
Peeking into the large room, she observed that it was designed with a series of long desks arranged on descending tiers, intersected by shallow steps leading down to the central area where the lecturer’s podium stood. The desks were nearly all occupied, and as Ling Qi stepped inside, she received more than a few curious, dismissive, or appraising looks from the assembled crowd of chattering fourteen-year-olds. This made her hackles rise; the sensation of condescending dismissal felt almost tangible.
Shaking her head, she compelled herself to disregard the feeling and began to search for available seating.
The most conspicuous and first to capture her attention was an entire section of desks that lay unoccupied, centered around a pale-faced girl. This girl possessed snow-white hair that cascaded freely down her back, reaching its midpoint, and embodied everything Ling Qi was not: petite and delicate, with skin of an almost supernatural pallor. She was whispering into the sleeve of her uniform, which had been embellished with a scale-like pattern in its embroidery. Despite appearing to pay little heed to her surroundings, she sat in isolation within an otherwise crowded chamber.
The girl then lifted her head, her gaze directed towards Ling Qi. A chill ran down Ling Qi’s spine as she met the other girl’s eyes, which were golden with slit pupils. A tremor of primal fear coursed through her. The moment was broken when the other girl averted her gaze, returning her attention to a vibrant green snake that had just emerged from her sleeve.
What was that? Ling Qi had felt akin to a mouse before a serpent, yet the girl's expression had not been hostile or condescending, merely indifferent.
Ling Qi swiftly redirected her focus to the alternative seating options. Another girl had an empty seat beside her. This individual was leanly muscled, with sun-darkened skin and fiery red hair fashioned into a single braid. The vivid splash of color was a stark contrast to the rest of the room.
Curiously, she was attired in a partial male uniform: a pair of loose-fitting trousers instead of the standard robe and a sleeveless silken shirt. Ling Qi might have mistaken her for a boy with feminine features if not for the pronounced way the shirt was stretched. Unlike the others, who maintained impeccable posture, this girl sat with her feet propped on the desk before her, an expression of boredom etched on her face. Her gaze briefly swept over Ling Qi before the laid-back girl seemingly dismissed her as inconsequential.
Further down, an unoccupied seat was situated adjacent to the steps, next to a tall boy. He was so tall that Ling Qi wouldn’t be looking down at him if they were to stand face-to-face. He was, Ling Qi had to admit, rather handsome in a classical sense, with noble features and well-proportioned build. Importantly, he lacked the girlish appearance sometimes seen in nobles and the wealthy.
Primarily, her attention was drawn by the gold-furred tiger cub curled contentedly atop his head. She observed it for a moment, but no one else seemed to find it unusual. Noticing her gaze, the boy offered a friendly smile and a slight nod, which caused the cub on his head to emit an unhappy growl.
The final vacant seat was located in the far corner of the room, beside a short young man possessing shaggy brown hair and a rather prominent burn scar that extended across his right cheek, down his neck, and disappeared beneath his shirt. The scar was quite unsightly, and it took Ling Qi a moment to divert her eyes from it to observe the rest of him. He was of medium height and had a compact build. Judging solely by his appearance, she surmised he was one of the few individuals in this room who belonged to the same... social standing as herself. He certainly appeared as out of place and uncomfortable as she felt.
When their eyes met, his gaze was assessing and cautious. Ling Qi’s eyes immediately darted away. He reminded her too much of Tonghou, and wasn’t she determined to leave that behind?
Ling Qi surveyed the available seats, but ultimately, the decision was clear. Dong Fu’s counsel still resonated in her ears, and... if she were to be entirely truthful with herself, she genuinely desired to follow it.
Ultimately, loneliness was the deciding factor. If there was one thing Ling Qi’s determination to remain unconstrained had fallen short of, it was forging friendships. Given her Mother’s profession, the circle of potential companions had always been meager, and her four years of self-imposed isolation had hardly allowed for sustained company. With this in mind, she opted for the path that at least offered a semblance of camaraderie. She began her descent down the stairs, setting a measured pace toward the young man with the tiger cub. Even if his amiability proved to be a mere pretense, it was preferable to indifference or outright hostility. This decision seemed to dissipate the hesitant glances of many, prompting them to return to their own hushed conversations. Now that she had a clearer view, Ling Qi observed distinct social circles amongst those gathered. While no social butterfly herself, it was evident that a place for someone like her did not readily exist within these formations. As she reached the desk where the young man was seated, she made a conscious effort to set her anxieties aside, though the task proved challenging. “Mind if I take a seat?” The words slipped out before she could properly frame them, and she instinctively clenched her fists beneath her sleeves. Her recent endeavor to speak more formally felt strained, a departure from her natural cadence. She fretted about his potential perception of her… “Not at all.” His relaxed response cut through her internal turmoil. The young man shifted slightly, creating more space for her. His easy smile, however, did little to quell the sudden quickening of her pulse. “You were cutting it a bit fine, weren’t you?” He possessed a subtle accent she couldn’t quite identify, which, combined with his easygoing demeanor, lent a peculiar drawl to his words. Ling Qi quickly took her seat, relieved to avoid further drawing attention to her embarrassed flush. Reason dictated that most present were unlikely to be concerned, she conceded internally. Her gaze lifted to meet his, finding him observing her with a hint of amusement. The tiger cub, nestled sleepily atop his head, seemed entirely unfazed. She briefly marveled at its ability to remain perched after he had turned to face her. “My carriage had only just arrived,” she replied, her tone perhaps more defensive than intended. A sudden realization struck her: she hadn't even introduced herself. “I’m Ling Qi, by the way,” she added quickly. “If… ah, if you were curious, I…” She loathed the way her voice faltered into hesitant uncertainty. Faced with a bustling street or a deceptive merchant, she could project confidence with ease. Yet, casual conversation seemed capable of unraveling her composure in an instant. To make matters worse, her hair, as if possessing a will of its own, was beginning to escape its confines once more, with several stray strands already drifting into her field of vision. The young man, observing her shift and hunch with self-consciousness, offered a peculiar look from the corner of his eye. “Han Jian,” he offered after a brief pause. “A pleasure. I can’t say the name rings a bell. If your carriage just arrived, you must be local, which would explain it. My tutors used to grumble about my lack of focus.” He concluded with a self-deprecating grin. His simple acceptance eased the tension Ling Qi had been holding, allowing her to sit up straighter. This adjustment made her realize that, aside from Han Jian, she might very well be the tallest individual in the room. So much for blending in unnoticed. Nevertheless, his quiet inquiry prompted a flicker of unease. Was his politeness merely a courtesy extended under the assumption she might be of noble standing, much like himself? Yet, he projected an air of casualness that seemed at odds with such a background. “My family isn’t particularly prominent,” she decided to state vaguely. “Where are you from? I, well, I’m not familiar with your family either.” She fumbled the words slightly more than she would have preferred, but believed it served as an adequate diversion. He let out a laugh, and Ling Qi found the corners of her own lips turning upwards. Maintaining a state of tension around him proved remarkably difficult. “I suppose we’re both a bit of a slacker then,” he replied, amusement coloring his tone. “The Han family hails from the Golden Fields province.” He seemed genuinely entertained, yet also… perhaps a touch relieved? Golden Fields… the name held a faint resonance, as if from a distant memory. It dawned on her then. The Golden Fields constituted the easternmost province of the empire; more importantly… “Oh, the Grave of the Sun. I didn’t expect someone to travel from so far.” Her voice trailed off as she noticed his smile falter, replaced by a touch of stiffness. Had she inadvertently said something offensive? The saga of Lu Guanxi and his final stand was legendary, a tale of one of the Empire’s most revered heroes. She couldn't fathom a reason why mentioning such a figure would cause offense. Perhaps his family had sent him away, and he disliked being reminded of the distance? He managed a slightly strained chuckle. “Indeed, that’s the place. I suppose most people only recall that ancient tale about us these days.”Ling Qi averted her gaze, her lips pressed together. What had she just uttered? She scanned the surroundings, searching for a topic shift to ease the palpable tension hanging in the air. Her eyes eventually landed on his companion animal again, which she noted had now opened its eyes and was fixing her with a stare full of the haughty disdain only a feline could convey.
“So… where did you acquire your companion? It’s unlike any I’ve encountered before.” Truly, her conversational skills were unparalleled, and that certainly hadn’t sounded awkward at all.
Why did it feel as if the tiny tiger cub was glaring at her now?
He offered a slight blink, acknowledging the change of subject. “My Grandmother introduced me to Heijin a few years ago, around the time I managed to awaken my qi. He isn’t precisely a pet, you see, more akin to a younger relative.”
What was that meant to imply? Ling Qi had encountered individuals who treated their animal companions as cherished family members; perhaps he was simply one of them. She was about to seek further explanation when a muffled thud cut through the ambient chatter of the hall.
Like everyone else present, her attention was immediately drawn to the sound's origin. It emanated from below, where a tall, slender man had materialized at the lecturer's podium. He was currently lowering his hands to his sides, as if he had merely clapped to gain everyone’s notice.
Ling Qi narrowed her eyes, observing the man intently. There was an indefinable quality about him that made her uneasy. Perhaps it was his remarkably plain and narrow features, clean-shaven down to his eyebrows, or the somewhat ashen hue of his complexion. If she didn't possess prior knowledge, she might have assumed he was unwell.
…Or perhaps it was the eye-striking shades of pink and lilac that adorned his attire. It was peculiar to see what appeared to be the robes of a high-ranking official rendered in such an undignified palette. How had someone clad in such vibrant colors managed to approach unnoticed? There was no visible door below, suggesting he had entered through the same passage she had.
She cast a sideways glance at Han Jian, but he betrayed no particular surprise. She compelled herself to relax slightly. It was undoubtedly some form of magical art, and seemingly of no concern to anyone else, though a few students had been jolted from their seats by the sound.
“Welcome to the Argent Peak Sect, young ones,” the peculiar, bald man announced, clasping his hands behind his back. His expression was meticulously neutral, yet she fancied she detected a glint of mirth within his grey… no, green, no… within his eyes, which seemed to rapidly shift in hue.
“I am Sect Elder Sima Jiao, head of the Talisman Department. It appears it falls to me to extend greetings to our new arrivals.” So this was the individual responsible for crafting talismans, such as the spirit-repelling totems safeguarding villages and cities? He must possess considerable wealth. It was understandable, then, that he could afford such an eccentric wardrobe.
Then, the absurdly ornate hat her driver had sported came to mind. Could attainment of immortality perhaps compel individuals to adopt peculiar fashion choices? As Ling Qi contemplated the sartorial inclinations of cultivators, Elder Jiao had rested his hands behind his back once more and was surveying her and the other students with a discerning gaze.
“My schedule is typically quite demanding, so I shall refrain from lengthy discourse. To be perfectly candid, it is highly probable that the majority of you will never ascend beyond the ranks of the outer sect, where you currently stand, and are thus… not particularly deserving of my valuable time.” His nonchalant dismissal elicited a low grumble from the assembled students, Ling Qi included. Han Jian’s placid expression remained unaltered, however. Perhaps his composure stemmed from unwavering self-assurance. Observing this, Ling Qi exhaled, suppressing her burgeoning irritation.
“This is merely the reality of the situation. There is no cause for shame,” the Elder continued, his tone devoid of harshness. “Regardless, your initial years within these walls will serve the crucial function of distinguishing those with only modest potential from individuals possessing genuine talent. Consequently, none shall be permitted to depart the sect grounds during their first year, nor will any correspondence be allowed entry or exit for the initial three months.”
This declaration appeared to surprise several other disciples, sparking a wave of hushed murmurs, though none dared to openly challenge the Elder. It did not trouble Ling Qi, however. What ties did she possess outside this place? Perhaps she would indulge in a leisurely stroll through her former home once she had achieved something significant, but until then, why concern herself with it?
“Be silent,” Elder Jiao commanded then, reclaiming her attention. “You will have ample time for mortal affairs at a later juncture. Today, and henceforth, you are disciples of Argent Peak. The foundation you establish in these initial steps of your journey will profoundly shape the remainder of your lives. Distractions from the outside world are entirely unnecessary.” His peculiar, color-shifting eyes swept across the assembly before his stern countenance softened once more into the same effortless amusement he had displayed at the commencement of his address.
“The sole other regulation stipulates that you shall not kill nor permanently incapacitate any fellow disciples. Furthermore, damaging or pilfering Sect property is strictly forbidden. In addition, direct conflict among you newcomers is prohibited for the initial three months. While strife is vital for your development, it would be imprudent to extinguish potential before it can even begin to flourish.”
His statement, delivered casually, still sent a shintizzy down Ling Qi’s spine. It appeared circumstances would not stray far from home after all. She found herself viewing her peers in a new light, as potential adversaries and hindrances.
Ling Qi was jolted only when she observed Han Jian offering her a reassuring grin. It was then she noticed her hands, resting upon the desk before her, had clenched tightly. She endeavored to return her current companion’s smile, but the expression appeared somewhat faint.
It was improbable that she could depend on someone with whom she had only exchanged a brief conversation. She managed to compose herself after a few more moments; concern for her own safety was hardly novel. Moreover, the Elder was speaking once more, demanding her full attention.
“Each of you will receive a stipend of five red spirit stones monthly and access to the Argent Soul Art,” he declared, leaving her perplexed. She possessed no understanding of either term.
“For those unfamiliar,” he elaborated, “spirit stones represent the currency of the Immortals, holding greater value than mere gold or silver.” Ling Qi became acutely aware of his unsettling gaze lingering upon her before shifting to a select few students in the chamber.
“Cultivation necessitates the assimilation of the energy contained within these stones, at least until one achieves mastery of specific techniques. I would advocate for prudence. As for the Argent Soul Art, it serves as the rudimentary form of the Sect’s cultivation technique. It proves exceptionally beneficial for early advancement, though somewhat less potent for established cultivators.” The older gentleman then rotated his shoulders and cast a glance towards the exit.
“All essential mortal provisions will be supplied within the Sect premises without additional charge. Beyond this structure, two pathways diverge towards the living quarters. You will be separated by gender, naturally.” He smirked as if amused by a private jest. “I would strongly advise against venturing into the incorrect domain. Room assignments will be determined by yourselves, but anticipate sharing quarters with at least one other disciple. For the initial three months, two Elders will be stationed on the mountain to impart foundational instruction in the physical and spiritual facets of our arts, respectively. I recommend seeking their guidance, as you will need to earn such esteemed attention later.
“All other matters will rest upon your shoulders, your proficiency, and your innate talent.” He unclasped his hands, bringing them back up to rest on the lectern, but they were no longer vacant. In his grasp now resided a sizable jewelry casket fashioned from dark jade. “Now, kindly form an orderly queue, and I shall distribute your first month’s allowance.”
As she stood, preparing to merge with the forming procession below, Han Jian interjected softly from her side. He too had risen, and Ling Qi observed that her premonition held true. He was indeed taller than her; it felt peculiar to gaze upwards at someone her own age. Heijin, his juvenile tiger, had transitioned from his head to his shoulder, clinging to the fabric with its… diminutive feline talons. The tiger cub continued to exude an air of a glare directed at her.
“Might you require a few pointers to commence your journey?,” he inquired, his tone betraying a slight awkwardness. “I couldn’t help but notice you’ve not yet achieved awakening. You merely appeared somewhat apprehensive, you understand?” He followed Ling Qi as she stepped into the aisle to join the line.
“Thank you,” Ling Qi responded after a pause. He had seemed sufficiently amiable, and it wasn’t as if she possessed anything he might covet.
“How then might I contact you?,” Ling Qi inquired.
He emitted a thoughtful hum as the queue advanced. “Hm, I shall await you in the main plaza around midday tomorrow. Does that arrangement suit you? I’d prefer to avoid being relegated to the last selection for housing today.”
She surmised she lacked significant alternatives. She nodded her agreement and lapsed into silence. Engaging in conversation proved more taxing than she had anticipated.
She soon obtained her allocation of spirit stones and a scroll case housing her new ‘cultivation art’. Though unstated by anyone, she surmised its necessity for ‘awakening’ given its universal distribution. She would need to peruse it later and engage in practice. Perhaps she could surprise Han Jian come tomorrow? The prospect afforded her a peculiar sense of satisfaction.
For the present moment, Ling Qi mused as the line progressed, she