Alice

Fairy Guan wore the same garb as the outer disciples of the Ascending Sky - a tightly fitted black robe that ended at her thighs, with long, billowy sleeves. She didn't sit in the corner of the room as much as she sprawled across the large cushion, knees together, feet crossed at the ankle. She wore no shoes.

Her hair was done up in a courtly bun - same as Alice's, but it was so effortlessly put together Alice felt self conscious, as if she were imitating the woman. A single stick of cracked and chipped black glass - the obsidian of Bei'an, held the bun in place. Alice knew instinctively that it was a memento of some sort - a trophy.

She propped herself up by an elbow and stared at her disciples lazily.

Fairy Guan had the attitude of someone who owned the place. As she turned the thought over in her head, Alice realized with a start that she did actually own the place.

"Do you know why I'm here?"

Alice didn't know for certain, but she assumed that Fairy Guan's presence in her living room had something to do with whatever test she'd meant to administer to Feiyan.

Qitai, who was more polite than the rest of his roommates combined, quickly began to brew his best tea for the Peak Master.

No one spoke, especially not Feiyan, who was trying to look as invisible as possible.

Fairy Guan smiled. "In the world of cultivation, what would be something a cultivator would consider the most important?"

Continued silence.

She frowned. "I expect my dear students to answer when I ask a question."

"Scripture," said Qitai, a little hurriedly. Like Alice, he'd realized that Fairy Guan's patience had a limit. He poured steaming tea into a little cup.

"And your reasoning?"

"Scripture informs the way you see the world, scripture colors every moment you touch cultivation, scripture illuminates a way forward when there is no way forward." Qitai set the cup on the table beside Fairy Guan, inclining his head slightly.

Fairy Guan took a sip of tea. Her soft, red lips contrasted against the white porcelain cup. "That's the sort of answer I would expect from the well-raised child of Gentleman Leng. But while scripture is important, it is too narrow."

"You know my father?" Leng asked, sounding delighted.

"I'm drinking his tea, am I not?" Fairy Guan's smile looked a little plastic to Alice. She suspected the woman didn't know much about Qitai's family other than the basics. The Fairy turned to look at Alice, then at Kanhu, then at Feiyan. The smile became something more encouraging.

“Tradition,” said Alice, softly because she was unsure. This was the sort of answer that held no real meaning to Alice, but she was sure that Fairy Guan would want to hear it. Everything about the Ascending Sky was ritualistic - it was a sect proud of its many histories.

“And why tradition?”

“Because without tradition, there would be no way to interpret scripture. We would be lost in a sea of self made doubts.”

Fairy Guan narrowed her eyes. “Pretty words from a pretty girl. But you don’t really believe that, do you?”

Shit.

Alice shook her head.

“Did you think that was what I wanted to hear?” Fairy Guan’s smile had slipped away.

Alice nodded numbly.

To her surprise, the Fairy chuckled. It was a tinkling sound, attractive beyond belief. “When I was your age, I would often give answers like that to my Peak Masters. It was a dangerous game to play with people who only wanted to help me. You could say I’ve landed in my position because of my complete lack of sincerity.”

Her words were cutting, but everything about the way she slipped Alice a wink and checked her nails wistfully told Alice it was a compliment. Alice could only conclude that Fairy Guan either really liked her or absolutely despised her.

“As to your answer, no. Tradition isn’t the most important thing to a cultivator. How could it be? We are meant to have a disagreement with the heavens - what is more traditional than the skies above?”

“The earth on which we walk,” said Alice, who couldn’t help herself.

“But what is the objective of a cultivator, if it’s not to leave this world behind?”

“To be remembered for having done so,” said Alice, who could not stop arguing no matter how stupid it was to continue.

“Senior sister, please,” squeaked Feiyan. “Our great teacher is here to impart wisdom upon us-”

“Zhu Feiyan,” said Fairy Guan, in a tone slightly rougher than she’d taken previously. “This is the essence of cultivation. If I’m unable to win over my students, how could I possibly win my great debate with the sky?”

“This disciple is sorry she spoke out of turn!” Feiyan’s lower lip trembled.

“Don’t be sorry about that,” said the Peak Master. Her smile widened. “This is your house, after all.”

If anything sounded insincere to Alice, it was that.

“Now, dearest disciple Feiyan, I’m of the opinion that tradition isn’t the thing a cultivator values the most and disciple Mulan here is convinced as to otherwise. Do you perhaps know what I think is the correct answer to this question?”

Alice didn’t really think that it was tradition, but she’d argued for the sake of arguing enough already. She suppressed the giggle threatening to burst from her lips for being addressed as Mulan, as usual.

Feiyan shook her head frantically.

“Inheritance.” The word had come out hoarse - from the table with the boy who played with cards.

Fairy Guan turned to Kanhu. “Oh? Is that not a selfish answer?”

Kanhu shook his head, as if to gather his thoughts. “Inheritance comes in many forms. It’s the talent of which you were born, it’s the scriptures passed down to you, the stories and traditions every disciple is lovingly, patiently taught.”

Alice thought he was laying it on a bit thick.

The Fairy sat up and nodded emphatically. “That is, indeed, the answer I was looking for. And of course it must be a selfish answer! Cultivation is the most selfish process. Those you’ve known from your mortal life will fall through your fingers like the rain. Those you’ve known on the Path will fall behind you. And you must take every inheritance you can grasp, every advantage that could be yours.”

Her smile widened again. “And it just so happens that I have such an inheritance to offer - one that I offer to every student of our beloved sect.”

“But there is a test, to prove that we are worthy,” said Alice, who thought of Li Qingshui memorizing the words of the Iron Scripture as a child, who thought of David tracing over drawings on a wall, who thought of little coins given to brave musicians by Uncle Jiang.

“Indeed there is,” said Fairy Guan, standing. “Will the four of you follow me?”

One by one, they stood, following Fairy Guan out the door into the night. From where the moon hung in the sky, Alice figured that it must have been two or three in the morning.

Earth Peak was still crowded at this hour. The disciples of the Ascending Sky, who’d long lost track of time and never required sleep, often hosted get-togethers outside of one another’s homes. Whenever someone happened to throw a party, everyone else seemed to get the message and most put aside their cultivation to trade stories and drinks with each other on the warm peak

Some of the inner disciples congregated around a campfire across the dirt road waved at Fairy Guan. The others bowed.

“Where are we going?” asked Feiyan, a little fearfully. She’d not had good experiences when it was dark out in Tianbei Valley. She stumbled lightly over the roots and branches that covered the southward sloping path towards the entrance of Earth Peak, deep in the valley.

“A guided material transformation,” whispered Kanhu.

“Indeed,” said Fairy Guan. They’d begun walking again.

“But what could students like us, of such low cultivation, hope to make?” asked Qitai, taking a sip of the tapioca tea he’d brought with him.

“Who amongst you has heard the story of the Ascending Sky?” returned Fairy Guan, who doubtlessly knew none of them had.

Unlike the festive atmosphere on the slopes of Earth Peak, the city was quiet by the time they’d passed its entrance on the Skybound Path. Little could be heard but the soft rushing of wind and the words that danced from Fairy Guan’s lips.

“The Raiser, she stared at her city and began to speak. Two hundred and fifty-eight names in the line of those who had laid siege - a hundred and seven generations ago. No one remembers if Raiser Xu was a man or a woman. Nor do we remember if she ascended - and we remember only the names of those who followed her. The Raiser built the bell towers that line the cities and the next fifteen names are the Heroes of Tianbei who etched their last words onto the towers.”

Alice shivered as she remembered the desperation in David’s voice as they read out words not in the Language of the Stars in the Sky spoken and read by the denizens of the middle continent - but in Chinese. “Tell me, is it really going to storm again?” she asked of Fairy Guan, before she could stop herself.

The Fairy stopped short, something between fear and fury on her face. She gripped Alice by the shoulders - it was painful and Alice gasped, but the Fairy did not relent, choosing to look her dead in the eye. “You shouldn’t say that unless you mean it.”

The moment passed and Fairy Guan let her go - she was breathing heavily, her eyes closed in thought. They had continued walking. Qitai pressed the bottle of tea into Alice’s nerveless fingers. She accepted it, but she did not drink.

“Principle is a beautiful thing. I’ve met many a cultivator in my journey on the Path, but none with such sharp eyes as to read the intent of words from before the Linking.”

Fairy Guan continued to walk, her bright eyes open and sad. “I’m sorry if I scared you,” she said to Alice, who was indeed very scared. “My master, she was an impatient woman. I’ve taken to far too many of her habits as of late.

“The sad story of the Line of the Bells is one that always fends off invasions from other places - places and powers who wish to make the Skyforge their own. The secret of the Skyforge is, of course, not within its construction or its birth, but those who operate it. It is one of the few sites where works we made have left this world. The Ascending Sky has had many immortals and we have crafted great things.”

Of this, Alice was sure.

“Tell me, do any of you know the symbol of the Line of the Bells?”

Alice shook her head - no one else spoke. Their footsteps echoed along the path in the dead of night.

Fairy Guan reached into her robe and drew from a pocket under her left breast - right over her heart - a curiosity of copper and iron. It was a crude, circular object, something that Alice recognized - from the illustrations in books rather than having ever seen one outside of a museum.

It was a compass.

Fairy Guan handed it to her. “Take a good look at it, and allow your fellow disciples a chance as well. It may be old, but it certainly isn’t delicate.”

The hand was stuck, pointing in a direction - the southeast.

“I was an outer disciple when I forged this at the behest of the Widow of the Valley. If you can do the same, yours will be the name that follows my own.”