Sky Pride

Tian and Hong ran down the road while the crane drifted silently overhead. Tian’s mind twisted around and around, always returning to Heartmend and Cang Sen. The indifferent array master, and the suffering peasant. One was healthy, powerful, and free, the other anything but. Yet it was the supposedly enlightened immortal who preached that life was too horrible to endure with one’s whole heart. That the true way to experience the world was as a thoughtless, heartless animal.

Yes, Heartmend was a heretic and, yes, he was less than completely faithful to the dao he preached, but he was calm as he died. Tian had seen no fear in his eyes, only irritation at Tian’s lack of intellectual rigour. His… lack of empathy for Heartmend’s lack of empathy. What Heartmend preached was the path he walked, not the end he had reached.

He picked at the troubled emotions, trying to sort out what he was feeling, beyond “toyed with.” There was something about Heartmend that Starsieve wanted Tian to see or understand. Was he arranged simply as a way for Tian and Hong to test their beliefs? It couldn’t be as simple as wanting Heartmend dead, could it?

“What I want to know, and I really want to know the answer to this, is if Starsieve knew enough about what was going on in the Iron Range Gang’s base to send us there then make sure we ran into Heartmend, why the fuck isn’t he over there getting those kids off the spikes? Why wasn’t he there months ago? Even for some heartless ancient monster, isn’t bleeding out the country’s fortune exactly what we are supposed to be stopping?”

Hong couldn’t keep it in any longer.

“Good questions. My question would be if running into Heartmend was just more self justification. ‘See- I’m not as bad as that. I’m not heartless. It’s just, I’ve been around since dirt was invented and my magic shows me more awful things than any one person should know exists and if I couldn’t distance myself from it at least a bit, I’d go insane.’” Tian didn’t break stride as he answered.

They were racing down the road, leaving clouds of dust behind them. The rainy season would come soon, but now was rice harvesting time. Hot, dry, and most years, happy. Nobody looked very happy, from what Tian could see. Even the mortals could feel something was very wrong in the world.

“I can understand that, but I can’t agree with it. Everyone knows bad things happen to kids. We all know that, and nobody likes it, but they feel like they can’t do anything about it. Starving kids two counties over? What do you want me to do about it? Starving kids two houses over? What do you want me to do about it? I got kids right here that need feeding.” Hong’s mouth was flying now, rage giving her words wings.

“But that’s mortals. That’s not a Beyond-Heavenly-Realm immortal cultivator who is the grand elder of a kingdom dominating sect and whose grandson founded the current kingdom! There is a certain difference in capability!” Her words came out like claps of thunder.

Tian agreed. At what point was a failure to act immoral? It was a bit of a tricky one for daoists, given that inaction, or taking the least action, were generally considered desirable traits in a leader. Everything, in theory, should be properly organized along the most natural lines, then everything would flow smoothly and without interruption.

“Over and over and over!” Tian could taste the bitterness in his words. “It wouldn’t happen in a well designed system, but nobody has designed a system well, ever.”

That got a dark laugh from Liren. “I have a theory. I think the Broadsky Kingdom was an attempt to do exactly that.”

“What, design a good system?”

“Basically.” Hong nodded. “They used the best model they knew of- the Celestial Court. Then they added things like exams for civil servants, censors to keep people honest, a system for sending petitions and even a way to reprimand the emperor when he went wrong. A lot of it was taken from other places and dynasties, sure, but the idea was to make a self correcting empire. One that ran well, fed its people, managed natural disasters, and needed the least amount of interference from cultivators.”

Tian was nodding along at this point, ignoring the carriages they raced past and the rearing horses in their traces. Not hearing the oaths and shrieks of startled people as something inhumanly fast passed them bare inches away.

“Then the Monastery system is built over it. Maybe it was just the Monastery to begin with, and then they expanded down and out. Gathering fortune, earning merit, creating a self sustaining benevolent cycle…” Tian stopped dead in a spray of rocks.

His mind was buzzing with connections. So many things snapped into place. The reforms brought in by Elder Rui - Why did the Elder in charge of the Outer Court have to fight and demonstrate the overwhelming superiority of his methods? Because his methods, the focused nurturing and benevolence, went against the character of the Inner Court. Why did the Inner Court have an obsessive need to make themselves stronger, constantly adventuring, constantly driving their mortal and earthly realm family members to gather resources and earn money? Because they were always chasing the people above them!

You spend decades looking up at the Heavenly Realm people, dreaming of breaking through, until the day finally comes and you walk through the gates of Mountain Gate City. You have a moment of triumph, glory and power now yours for eternity… and everyone is giving you pitying looks because here, you are just another person. Just another servant of the Monastery, forever. Unless you could do something incredible to change your fate. Some huge transformation or growth that would win you a spot as an elder, or even get you promoted to core disciple status.

You would have to go look for something like that. Adventuring. Exploring. Raiding old ruins or heretical enclaves looking for treasures or techniques. To support that kind of life would take a mountain of resources. Sky barges aren’t free, and neither are enchanted weapons. How much does a flying sword cost? Surely it wasn’t cheap. How much time or heart can you spare to worry about the people suffering below you? Not much. You have to go earn, and get stronger.

It kept going all the way up the mountain, right the way to the Grand Elder. A doting grandpa who slowly lost track of his family, generation after generation. The juniors got more and more disappointing, so he paid less and less attention and started spending longer and longer in seclusion. Years. Then decades. Then generations, perhaps. Did the Royal Family even remember their ancient ancestor? Or did they simply worship him with empty rituals because it was tradition?

On and on, until one day you notice that all your descendants are all dead and some madwoman was gassing the temple you established specifically to protect your grandson’s Capital. And sure, you weren’t close to them anymore, but they were still your family. You could remember how cute little Zheng was, and how handsome he looked when he first sat on the Dragon Throne. How proud you were to see him receiving the worship and adoration of the masses.

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Tian had the image of Little Treasure running around with a crown and a tiny sword, ordering other kids to help him build a kingdom. Were they all like that from Starsieve’s perspective?

“Cycles. Of all the stupid, shitty, old man things, it’s about the damn cycles!” Tian completely forgot all the lessons about propriety and the deference due to elders.

“What do you mean, cycles?” Hong asked.

“Nothing is ever static, right? The Dao is a path, stretching from primordial chaos, through existence and back again. One giant cycle, made up of endless smaller cycles. All growing, changing and dying.”

“Okay?”

“So what lasts forever? Nothing. Rocks don’t, rivers wear them away. Rivers don’t, they dry up, turning to sand. The universe itself will end, returning to a blob of primordial chaos before coming back into existence again.” Tian waved around pointing at the empty rice paddies. Bone dry, waiting for planting. “Cycles of birth and death, creation and destruction, a season for everything. Well, what about the kingdom? What about Ancient Crane Monastery?"

Hong ripped her hat off and stared directly into Tian’s soul. “You think he did this. He set up-”

Tian started shaking his head. “You have it backwards. He’s showing us exactly how things got to this place, and what he did. Nothing. He did nothing. It’s the art of effortless action. He arranged the best system he could, flowing on the most natural lines, then sat back and let nature take its course. Once his grandkids were dead, even before they were dead, he stopped caring and focused on… whatever some multi-thousand year old man focuses on. Practicing his handwriting, collecting interesting rocks, I don’t know. Not looking after the kingdom, or his sect.”

“And?”

“And it worked for a while but not forever. Now it’s all crashing down. It was a slow bleed for a long time, but now everything is failing and falling apart. There will be a collapse. I don’t know what the impact is of losing all that fortune and merit, or if it can be restored later. But he’s steering us towards figuring it all out. He doesn’t care anymore. Everything can, and should, collapse. Everything should fall into ruin. And from extreme yin…”

“Yang is born. A new monastery. A new kingdom. That’s why he’s training Senior Fu and backing Elder Rui. It’s why he put the pieces in place for us. Our assignment when we went on board the Windblown Manor was ‘How do we win the future?’ We win by understanding all the mistakes of the past. He’s preparing the seeds for whatever comes next.” Hong’s voice turned to horror.

“Very wise, very daoist, very enlightened. Shame about everyone dying! Except it’s not a shame, it’s just nature. It’s heaven’s law, or the way of things, or fate or some other excuse. And you know what? After everything we have seen, and learned and learned about each other? I’d say let it all burn. Except that my brothers keep dying, and I don’t want any more dead kids either. I don’t particularly want any dead peasants, and when you get right down to it, most of the people I know in the sect are basically okay. So while I want to let it all burn, I also really, really don’t! So what the hell am I meant to be feeling right now?!”

Hong slowly crouched, wrapping her hands over her head. Tian rushed on.

“Auntie Wu and Senior Sister Li. You know Senior Li, the Crafter?”

“You mentioned her before. I saw her around the depot, but never did business with her.” Hong’s voice was faint.

“Yeah. She made my rope dart, my Heavenly Swallow darts, gave me loads of good advice. And Auntie Wu looked after me I don’t know how many times. Kind people, and caring, and exactly what any sect needs. They are precious people to me, but how are they by the Monastery's standards?”

“Ordinary. And the Monastery only cares about the one or two geniuses that can change everything. Which means they are people Starsieve can do without.” Hong closed her eyes, closing in on herself as the enormity of it all descended on her from the empty blue sky.

“It’s not that Starsieve wants the heretics to win. He probably doesn’t. But he expects the kingdom to fall, and with it, the Monastery. All the lost people are simply… necessary. A consequence of too much yang, too much growth, for too long. Time for a rebalancing.”

“He’s already the Grand Elder. He was the former sect master. We think he may be beyond the Heavenly realm, and he’s sure pulling strings like he is. He can’t be doing this for money or power.” Hong muttered. “Is it really as simple as heartache? Is his dao heart just dead now, and he’s ready to watch everything he worked for go up in smoke?”

“I’d like to be wrong.” Tian spoke with absolute sincerity. “I just don’t think I am.”

“All the stuff with fortune and merit and Little Treasure?”

“Damned if I know. I didn’t know any of that stuff existed a couple of months ago, who knows what strangeness an ancient like Starsieve can do with it?” Tian shrugged. “A better question might be ‘What does it signify that you and I can feel big concentrations of sin, but not merit?’ Because we knew the Copper Roof Inn was no good from miles and miles away, and Heartmend too, but we couldn’t find the hidden orchard without Little Treasure pointing the way.”

“And the Bandit camp.” Hong muttered. Tian squatted down next to her, and started slowly drawing circles in the dirt. “I could feel the wrongness of it from a good way away. That, and all the immortal qi gathering together.”

“Yeah.” Tian’s circle drawing intensified. Hong stared at it, then started drawing her own circles. They crouched in the dirt, silent, lost in the noise of their minds and the endless cycles.

It was so much. So much. They had only seen a little piece of the Broadsky Kingdom, and that was enough to keep them happily adventuring for decades. They hadn’t seen even a fraction of what the monastery had to offer, and it was already wonders beyond the imagining of a billion mortals. All ending, so something better could be born.

Was the present really so terrible? So impossible to endure? Was he the fool for not understanding how miserable he should be?

Tian didn’t know how many times he went around the loops before Liren startled him back to awareness.

“My skin feels smoother.” She said.

“Not sure what that has to do with anything, but… congratulations?”

“Just a nice side effect of whatever you did to save my life.”

“Oh. Well, I’m glad, obviously.” Tian nodded, and added a more intricate set of small circles inside the big one.

“More than just smoother. Look at this.” Hong pulled her sleeve up. She didn’t look any less tan, but there was a subtle difference.

“Are you… glowing?”

“Not exactly. My skin is literally lustrous.” She chuckled. It wasn’t bitter. “I catch the light now, just a little bit. It makes me look less like a farmer, and more like a polished bronze or something.” She met Tian’s eyes, and a tiny smile crept onto her face. “I think it looks good. It’s a nice change. Cycles and horrors and misery and betrayal, but you know what? It’s not all bad. I found a good brother.”

Tian looked at his sister. Really looked at her. She glowed in the sunlight. Her hair was still cropped close to her skull, still decorated with dancing flames. The red hairs that subtly mixed with the black added a liveliness to it that he always liked. Her face had been refined by whatever her body cultivation art had done- perfectly symmetrical features, high cheekbones and her eyes had an upswept tilt to their corners.

She was beautiful. She didn’t have the arresting magnetism of Daoist Steelshimmer, but, for only the second time in his life, he could honestly say that he found a woman beautiful. And it was Sister Liren.

“Well. That’s just not fair.” He muttered. “Why do you get the body cultivation art that makes you pretty, and I get the one that makes me short?”

Hong looked at Tian for a moment, and then, in spite of everything, burst out laughing.