SpiralingSilverandEyes
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Book One, Chapter 31 - Friends in Strange Places
🕑 Added 2025-10-24 05:43:13 +0000 UTCThat makes two! Going to try for one last one, even though it is very late. Looking forward to when my dumbass finally figures out how to get work done without feeling pressured, tired, and a little loopy from sleep deprivation.
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In the path to immortality, friends are hard to come by. Friends that remain alongside you on the way, even harder. Most of us try to kill each other at some point. It’s just the culture.
---Words of a wandering monk, famously and notoriously drunk, versed in three of the seven words of God and capable of juggling to a mediocre degree.
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Raika can’t help herself; she grins wide and throws her head back for a laugh.
“Of all the people!” she howls, cackling at the poor disheveled young disciple. “Oh, how it’s good to see you, you arrogant bastard!”
Still smiling wide, she slams a fist into her chest and performs a deep bow, far deeper than social status merits. “This one greets honored cultivator and honorable disciple Qen Hou!” she says, the enclosed chamber magnifying her new voice. Then, still smiling, she tilts her head mid-bow. “This one also apologizes for the incredible hassle she may or may not have brought upon the honored Qen Hou!”
He scoffs, giving her a bow that only just meets bare minimum standards for respectful. Whether it’s on purpose or just because he’s as exhausted as he looks, the moment it’s done he’s already waving at her to get back up. “No “may not” about it,” he grumbles. “I haven’t slept in over a week because of you, and my superiors have been running me ragged with questions. You have no idea the sheer amount of paperwork, interrogations and veiled threats I’ve had to go through to survive the last month, and that’s not even mentioning all of that bastard Shin Ren’s would-be concubines trying to poison me for ‘bringing a demon into the sect to assassinate the young master.’ It’s been a nightmare.”
She looks around at the featureless gray room she was thrown into while still a charred ruin. “Want to trade?”
He laughs, though he looks more surprised at the sound coming from him than actually joyful.
Note to self; a tired Qen Hou is a laughing Qen Hou.
“No, you earned this one,” he says. “Besides, I doubt even you could survive the hordes of young disciples adamant to avenge the wounds on the sect’s young master.”
“I thought he was Elder Ren’s grand-kid or whatever,” she says with a head tilt. “Would he have to be the patriarch’s kid to be the sect’s young master?”
Qen Hou waves off the question. “The patriarch doesn’t have any grandchildren,” he replies, “so no young masters on that tree just yet. Plus, you saw the guy, he’s popular enough to get away with calling himself a lot worse.”
Raika gives a little laugh at that, but it comes off a bit subdued. As genuinely relieved as she is to see Qen Hou, she knows well that they didn’t see each other last under the best circumstances or the best goodbyes. Her enthusiasm, her joy, comes more from the fact of finally smelling something new, from the experience of talking to a real person for the first time in weeks. More than that, his exhaustion seems genuine, and he’s already reacted to or laughed at comments that he’d normally be much too put together to give the time of day to, and… well, considering what he must have genuinely spent to meet her before her trial, she can’t help but worry.
Eventually, before the silence of examining him becomes awkward, she moves, well aware that not every movement comes across naturally but still a bit disappointed with how sharply Qen Hou’s eyes move to track her. She waves at the room around them; “I haven’t gotten around to doing any interior decorating yet, but please, have a seat,” she tells him. “I can’t fulfill most of my duties as host, but I’m not one to leave guests standing, even in a prison.”
He sighs long and loud, gratefully taking a seat against a nearby wall. She can’t help but frown at that, looking at him with concern; how bad is it out there?
“You ok, Qen?” she asks.
It takes him a long time to answer, but eventually just sighs again. “Don’t call me that,” he sighs. “Makes it seem like we’re friends or some other stupidity.”
She goes to laugh, but then pauses, wondering again at the voice and who might be listening. There’s a non-zero chance that being too friendly to Qen Hou here might backfire for him down the line. She’s not going to lie, not when she doesn’t know the pieces on the board, but being too enthusiastic, well. Maybe a little late to realize it, but she is genuinely happy to see him, so she was a bit slower on the uptake than she should have been. Instead of laughing, she just gives a nod, keeping her face mostly still.
“Understood, ‘senior brother’,” she says. “But sincerely, you look like shit. If you’ve been working hard due to my faults, I’d like to know so as to properly pay you back someday.”
He gives her a look, like he’s trying to see if she’s mocking him, but eventually softens. “Yeah, well, it would be nice if I got paid back for some of this,” he mumbles. “But… sure. Honored cultivator Qen Hou has been fighting like hell to not get himself and healer Li Shu executed for aiding and abetting the abnormal mutant weapon hereby classified as ‘The Burnt’, which has infiltrated the Purple Flame Burning Lotus sect with the intent of killing and consuming cultivators.”
She blinks. Takes a long second to just look at him.
“You’re serious?” she asks.
“As serious as I can be on three hours of sleep in twelve days,” he replies, tilting his head back against the wall.
“...Shit.”
“Did you manage to… I suppose convince them?” she asks. “Is that why they sent you in here?”
He just shakes his head. “No,” he says, “I think they sent me in here mostly to see what you’d say to me and what I’d say back. Lucky for both of us, I’m too tired and too angry at you to try and talk in code and get us both killed, and you’re already pretty fucked.”
“I don’t think I’m a mutant,” she mumbles. “Well, not technically. Ok, maybe. Does it count as mutation if you try to do it on purpose?”
“Yes, Raika, it still counts as a mutation if it’s on purpose,” he replies tiredly. “How you got to be so old and so dumb at once is beyond this honored cultivator.”
She rolls her eyes at him. “With all respect, Qen Hou, do I look like some old granny? Everyone goes around calling me a hag since that brat J- since that brat started it. I’m only twenty eight you know! I’m basically still a maiden.”
Qen Hou lets out a bark of laughter at that. “Mutant, hag or not, you’re no maiden,” he chuckles. Then, turning to look at her, his gaze softens a bit. “But… no, you don’t look like an old granny. Hardly relevant with cultivation, but still, considering you must have the brain of a child or an idiot, I guess I should stop calling you that.”
She huffs a laugh. “I’ll take idiot over granny, whatever that says about me,” she replies. “As I’m an idiot, though, it would be helpful if you walk me through what’s going on outside.”
He meets her eyes, takes a deep breath, and centers himself on the exhale. She smells a wisp of his Qi, magnesium-flame and ozone, as he cycles to calm and prepare himself.
“Apparently, since you can’t be killed for the crime of surviving your trial, the Judge is prohibiting the elders from just walking in here and turning you to ash,” he starts. “Further, it would seem either contacts inside the sect of the Judge itself reached out to an Imperial representative of some kind, and now they’re taking an interest, especially with how flooded the city has been with their soldiers since the attack during the festival. The elders are trying to haggle to have you killed, the Imperial rep is outright refusing, and Elder Ren of the medical pavilion and Shiru Hei of the research pavilion are both fighting tooth and nail with whatever experts the imperials brought in for the right to “examine” you.”
From the way he phrased the word “examine”, she can imagine it wouldn’t be pleasant.
“Ok, that’s fine,” she says, “but how are you and Li Shu? Is anyone else in trouble?”
Qen Hou gives her a guarded look at that, like he’s trying to understand why she’s asking or how safe it is to answer, but eventually he just sighs. “Li Shu hasn’t been well. There’s been accusations that she’s become a corrupted cultivator, that she’s pursuing demonic paths, literally and just as a moral judgment both. Rumors got out about your ritual, which I still don’t get by the way. She’s still under investigation, and even if things go perfectly I doubt they’ll renew her discipleship at the end of her trial period now. I’m in less trouble, but you got in as a servant on my recommendation as much as by Li Shu’s request, so I’ve gotten plenty of threats and questions from everybody who’s anybody about what the hell you are.”
She can’t help but grin a bit at the last line, even with the bad news. “And what have you been telling them?” she asks.
“The truth!” he growls in frustration. “I have no damn clue! Gods and hells, if I’d met you next year I might have been a Core Formation realm cultivator, and I wouldn’t have to fight to stay conscious under all these gazes and Killing Intent. I’m only peak Foundational! I shouldn’t be dealing with all these honored masters and old monsters! It’s bullying the weak, I tell you.”
She laughs at the outburst, so unlike the usually stoic and arrogant young cultivator. “I wouldn’t worry about that,” she says. “If you live through this, cultivation will probably go smoothly. You’ve got talent, making it to Foundational realm so young, and pressure makes diamonds, I hear. Plus, your Qi smells pretty clean and on theme, so you’re probably fine.”
“See, shit like that is why people think you’re a demon,” he growls. “First you get molten half to ash and still stab a peak Core Formation genius, then you tell me my Qi has a smell. What the Hells!”
She shrugs. “Just something I figured out a while back. Dunno what it means. I think it’s a system of forced evolution of my Dao senses through repeated exposure and compensation for my ruined cultivation organs, but I’m no expert.”
He turns, staring at her silently for a minute. “Every time I think you’re honestly braindead, you go and spout off something like that,” he mumbles. “Honestly, where did someone like you learn to talk like that?”
She shrugs. “I had a lot of time while I was uber-crippled, and the medical pavilion had interesting books, even the basic ones. Plus, I’m not stupid. Crazy, yeah, and I’m not very good at maths or anything, but with a lot of time to think, something to think about, and I guess I just have some ideas about stuff.”
He sighs. “Yes. Being mad will do that to a person,” he says. “Anyways, like I said, they sent me in here to make sure you’re not just going to stab me to death with your femur or something, and to check to see if I’ve been lying. They’re probably monitoring me to find out as we speak. Once they find out that I’ve been telling the truth-” (he snarls this part at the ceiling)- “they’ll probably send in someone more important to interrogate you. So… this may be the last time we ever speak.”
Raika smiles. Then, surprising him, she goes from her seated position to pressing her forehead to the ground of the cell, kowtowing fully to him.
“Thank you for protecting Li Shu,” she tells him. “She is important to both of us, but you have still done more than we could have asked of you. Thank you for speaking to me before the trial, and I am deeply sorry that this lowly one was cruel to you in what may have been our last interaction.”
She hears him inhale, ever so soft. He holds the breath for a moment.
“Please. Raise your head.”
She does, precisely and politely, giving effort to make the movement as genuine as she can. She doesn’t think she’s kowtowed more than four or five times before, ever, but… she wants to get this right.
“You’re a bit of an arrogant ass, Qen Hou,” she says once she’s risen back to a kneeling position. “You’re self-assured, abrasive, and a bit of a bastard about how I was treated. But you’ve never been truly unfair with me, and without your aid, I would never have come to this sect, where I have learned much, gained opportunities, and, despite my best efforts, ran into useful tribulations. So… thank you, honored cultivator Qen Hou. I wish you the best of luck in your journey between Heavens and earth, and that if we meet again, it shall be under better circumstances.”
She opens her eyes to look at him, and he awkwardly looks away, before grumbling something she doesn’t quite pick up. Eventually, sitting more upright, he turns to look at her again.
“Too honest for your own good, Raika. A beautiful kowtow and then you had to go and be honest about what you think of me. Very you, to the end.”
He sighs. “You were… at the very least interesting, and I hope you don’t die.”
He flinches back from how brightly she smiles at him.
“I knew it!” she laughs. “You do like me!”
“Gods and Hells, do you ever quit?” he groans, getting to his feet. “Is that enough, or do we need to hug or something? Are we done?”
“You’ve successfully fulfilled the criteria required,” the voice that calls itself Taurus says, manifesting back in the room as if it never left (and to be honest it probably never did). “Thank you for your participation, sect disciple Qen Hou. The Imperial Divisions of Altered Cultivation and Research both thank you for your willingness to assist in our preliminary analysis.”
“And Raika, your ability to refrain from blatant murder and immediate harm to others is noted and appreciated.”
“You’re welcome,” she replies to thin air. “Happy to facilitate the laziness of the people who could kill me, totally not a problem.”
Ignoring her and addressing only Qen Hou, the voice continues; “You’re free to head out. I’m obligated to remind you not to allow the subject’s escape and to keep any Qi movements minimal until you exit the building. We’ll be sure to take note of your cooperation in your ongoing trials.”
“My gratitude, honored seniors,” Qen Hou says as he bows to the air. A few moments later, the door behind them hisses back open, letting out the pressurized air and cutting its way back into reality.
“Take care of Li Shu, alright?” Raika says, a bit quieter than she intended.
“Goes without saying,” Qen Hou replies, not turning to look at her. She watches his back, a bit broader than she remembers, until the doorway hisses shut once more.
Then he’s gone, and the door has once again vanished perfectly back into a wall.
“So,” says the voice, “Shall we continue?”
