There are moments, here and there, where he can feel something resembling a positive emotion. Excitement, amusement, maybe even a moment of genuine happiness. It’s hard not to when his friends are so invested in how he’s doing, to a degree where it can get annoying, but a good kind of annoying.
Knowing he’s not alone…helps, more than they could possibly imagine.
But the pain is still there more often than it isn’t.
A deep gouge into his soul, like a daemon’s settled and made it its home.
So he takes that pain and channels it into something useful.
Another thrust of his spear cuts through the air, with well practiced form and steady footing, just as he was taught back in the sect. Bringing it back to a neutral stance, he relaxes and tenses his muscles for another strike. He’s been at it for most of the day, ignoring how his body screams, using the pain to sharpen his mind into something that can push through the folly of physical concerns. He needs to get better at fighting, he can’t spar with his weapon, not until he completes his foundations, so instead all he has is the empty air, and some bouts with training weapons.
Tantra and Etra can’t really go all out because their weapons are all about blunt force, so switching it to wood doesn’t really change much for their lethality. But he appreciates their participation nonetheless, Tantra especially since she can take a serious beating without even flinching.
Truly the wonders of Qi.
Soon he’ll be the same, what with that strange blood boosting technique, then he can actually do something. Tantra is the weakest in martial forms but she is…tenacious, add to that a cultivators constitution and you get quite the ferocious fighter. Kisrin prefers skill over ferocity but he can’t deny that it works. It's also kind of a funny juxtaposition considering her personality.
“Kisrin!” a familiar voice yells out as they run to him across the field.
Kisrin turns with a bemused smile as Yorin drags along a girl that could rival him in height, with long auburn hair and piercing blue eyes. She looks, if anything, extremely confused.
Kisrin chuckles, he can tell she’s one of the Sol’s, what with her formal toga, pristine tunic, and the gaudy jewellery.
Seeing Tantra dressed like that did things for his heart, but this girl just looks like she’s trying too hard.
“Yes?” He asks as Yorin finally reaches him, the girl gasping for breath, hands on her knees and struggling to let out a few curses that Kisrin decidedly chooses not to laugh at, for the sake of propriety.
“This is Tosa Sol!” Yorin says exuberantly displaying her with both arms.
“Not…your…place…to…introduce…me…brute” She says between gulps of air.
Yorin waves her off, “you can barely talk, if you worked on your cardio maybe I wouldn’t have to.”
Tosa grumbles her dissatisfaction as Kisrin just continues to stare at both of them.
“So?” Kisrin asks, “why did you drag her out here?”
“Right!” Yorin says excitedly, “she’s going to teach you how to woo Tantra!”
Kisrin blinks, “what?”
-
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Etra's done a lot for her age.
She's seen horrors and fought things that are beyond her measly strength. She has, over and over, been reminded by how easy it is to die in this world of blood and violence. No matter their strength.
She was responsible for one after all, Rakan would still be alive if she were stronger, if she were better.
So she’s been threading, and threading a lot, it’s practically all she does these days. If this was how Tantra got to foundation so quickly she’ll push through no matter how much her soul wants her to stop.
She’s been losing sleep, and a lot of it too, just focused on the act of making a rope with two threads of Qi. She used to take this exercise with a more laid back attitude, sure, it’ll get her to foundation quicker, but why rush the process?
She has plenty of reasons to rush the process now.
Still, she goes for too long, sometimes going days without sleep, just focused on threading. The constant abuse is doing something to her soul, straining it in a way that’s difficult to describe. Like stretching, but with a crushing kind of pressure, like it's being…flattened out? Except in a line rather than uniformly?
It’s not whatever Tantra describes when she pushes beyond the limits of her soul, that involves a lot more blood, and Etra isn’t bleeding.
So it’s different.
How is it different? Well, she doesn’t really care to find out.
She just needs to keep with the exercise.
Pushing and pushing, until eventually, she can be a real fucking cultivator and can actually help for once. If they were all in foundation, she wonders, would Rakan still be alive?
Who knows, she certainly doesn’t, but she refuses to be placed in a situation where she’s that helpless again.
Where she can do nothing.
No.
Not ever again.
-
Through the exchange of common imperial mint, the cultivators who have signed are bound by honour and blood to fulfill their purpose:
- Elimination of an imposter claiming to be of Sol heritage.
- Delivery of the imposter to the Sol estate for confirmation of duties done.
- Maintaining utmost secrecy as per the imperial oath of contracts dictates
Signed:Tikor Sol
Tantra stares at the contract, there’s a lot of legal jargon but the only portion she really cares about is the purpose. It’s short, most contracts have a thousand and one failsafes preventing a sort of loophole for the cultivator. Tikor didn’t seem all too worried about that it seems, only giving three directives. It’s kind of insulting how little effort he put into trying to have her killed, and how cheap the price was.
A hundred gold?
Rakan died over one hundred measly gold?
The rage simmers, as it always seems to do these days, but this time it doesn’t calm, nor does she want it to. It boils progressively hotter as she reads and re-reads the contract over and over again, trying to make some sort of sense of this.
Tikor is the second eldest behind Dozen. They've talked, occasionally, but she gets the distinct impression that the man doesn’t like children very much, so they’re not really close. Which’ll make what she needs to do easier, much easier in fact.
How convenient.
She was worried someone like Ralah or Terok would have been the ones to do it, close as they may be; those two are dedicated to coin, and her death would certainly make them quite a bit once her inheritance is distributed.
That gets to the last and most pressing matter, what was the motive? Tikor is already rich beyond belief, being the second son he’s had plenty of time to carve out his own little empire, and he has easily the most political influence of the family, what with being engaged to Arith Farlagh. Wouldn’t it make more sense to target Dozen, instead of having to send petty assassins to someone so far down the line of succession she might as well not be on it?
How does she make this make sense?
Maybe she should ask him.
No, that would ruin her plans, would ruin them quite dramatically.
She could just show this contract to Dozen and explain what happened, surely there would be some form of punishment, but would it be enough?
No, the way she sees it, he’ll be living a life of plenty so long as he’s alive, and that kind of vengeance would just be hollow.
Tantra stares at the contract with a grim kind of determination.
There’s only one solution.