Forge of Destiny

Threads Chapter 541 Fantasia 4

"A gem has facets, but only so many," Bao Qian mused.

They approached the temple. It was less a structure and more a grove of high-branched trees, stately pillars of bark whose spreading canopies interwove and grew together in a leafy, multi-colored ceiling.

The ritual rope, which had stretched from the entrance of Fantasia, stretched here, too. She could see where it was bound to the highest reaching branch, where a silver idol flashed like a mirror in the dim light. This must be the Palace of Colors.

Light glowed from within the temple, flashier and brighter in hues than the warm autumn colors in the village. The sound of music washed over her ears, different strains fading in and out, as if the melodies themselves were competing over the air that carried them.

Ling Qi tilted her head back, coming to a stop near the front of the grand organic palace, letting the crowd flow around them as Bao Qian stopped, too. The eaves glittered with a legion of fluttering faeries.

"You said something back there at the center of the glacier spirit's domain. It was very raw. You shouted at it that you weren't hollow, but that accusation would not have made you so angry if it didn't strike at something tender," Ling Qi said. "So, I have to add that to my answer. There is a little bit of insincerity there, simply going along with my answer as you have. Were you just looking for affirmation from me? Trying to tie our interests together?"

Bao Qian smiled wanly. "First, I tried with music, and it turned out you didn't have much interest in the theory or history. On our last trip, I tried the angle of travel and spreading communication and unity, and it didn't quite work either. You surmise correctly. What I learned from my clan and from my father when he had the time is that one should try to find the places where they are like the other person. That is a foundation for relationships: establish similarity, and building everything else is much easier. With you, nothing seems to stick."

"It's not a bad principle. That is why we put the arguments over law and courts first at the summit. It led our side by inches to thinking of the other side in the same way they would a neighbor they might dispute with, rather than a force that could only be met with violence."

"When I was trapped in darkness by the glacier spirit, it was the ease with which we lost each other that made the illusions bite more. Hollow. That's the word it used. It's not right. Bao Qian is a carver and a designer. Bao Qian enjoys analyzing artists' work, trying to discern what makes them create as they do. Bao Qian enjoys an open road, the rumble of wheels, and nights beneath a clear sky. I am not hollow, for all I might choose to use gold and gilding as a tool."

There was a moment of silence.

"It wasn't an affirmation, but I needed to know if these facets of mine matter. That is the fear that made me snarl and lash out, the idea that none of that matters, and only the gold has value. It's not been easy, having my support dropped like I'm a bad investment."

"That wasn't my intention," Ling Qi said contritely. "Though I won't apologize for the situation."

"You shouldn't. You don't owe me any such debts," Bao Qian dismissed. "Shall we head in? We've been taking up a good piece of this entrance for ourselves here."

"We probably should," Ling Qi agreed.

"Indeed. I was about to chide you."

Ling Qi almost startled, reigning in the full body twitch of surprise as she found herself looking up into glittering black eyes not unlike Sixiang's. They were set behind a strange leafy mask, two large, many lobed leaves spread like hands over the face that wore them. Dainty white chin and stark black lips sat below the mask, and an intricate set of braids was woven through silver ornaments above.

Bao Qian clasped his hands together and bowed deeply. "Madam of the Withering Songs and of the Vibrant Palace, these humble guests apologize for blocking up your gates."

The spirit, the Autumn Madam, withdrew from her close inspection of Ling Qi, snapping open a broad fan to flutter in front of her face. It hid the half-smile that appeared on her lips behind flame-like orange panels. Her ornate gown shimmered through a thousand shades of red and yellow and everything in between.

Ling Qi made her obeisance as well. "I as well, Lady of the Falling Leaves."

Though she had never met the spirit, the greater seasonal spirit of the Emerald Seas was hardly one she could fail to have learned of.

"It is nothing, nothing at all. Just step along, children of mortals. It is not often that your kind visits the Palace of Colors beyond the sacred days."

The fan snapped shut, and the spirit turned. There was no question that they were to follow.

She gave a small nod to Bao Qian and stepped across the threshold of the palace beside him. The air rushed, and the countless falling leaves vanished from one step to the next, replaced by the beams of moonlight shining through distant eaves.

"What brings you hence, children?" the madam asked.

"We are seeking a talent of the autumn that I might be allowed to bind," Bao Qian replied.

"A spirit who might embody your season in song and performance, and serve as an intermediary for the mortals in the chaotic lands that were scourged and their pacts broken," Ling Qi added.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

"Oh, yes. So you are among the ones playing with the broken threads in the south. My sister has become aware. I thought a loose snowflake, blowing through my realm, had ascended," the Autumn Madam said, fluttering her fan as she led them further within. The flagstone floor was scattered with crunching leaves. "Yes, this shape the palace has taken makes sense now. But why should I give my leave to this?"

"It will stabilize the south, in part, and bring the hills and mountains to you and your siblings, should we succeed. Old ways or new, the temple's offerings will reach you instead of scattering among a thousand little courts," Ling Qi persuaded.

"That will happen in time regardless. What is a few hundred passing cycles?" The spirit turned to face them, her head cocked, birdlike, to the side.

They stood at a crossroads, its paths stretching off into mist in every direction. Concert halls opened on every path, light and music spilling out like lapping waters.

"I have prepared many offerings of my own to show my sincerity in purpose, and what I might provide to one of your younger kin, great lady," Bao Qian said. "I suspect, however, you are more in the mood for actions, a proving."

"Clever boy. How dull it would be to simply send you backstage to talk and talk and to charm a falling leaf to follow along. No. I would have you perform a task and receive a boon, for is that not how the story of young heroes and mighty spirits should go?"

Ling Qi sighed, smiling. "I can hardly deny that."

"Nor I. I had expected some kind of task," Bao Qian agreed.

The Autumn Madam's fan closed and then snapped open, the sound like the howl of the breeze through branches near clear of leaves. "Good children, you shall retrieve my mirror, my sickle, and my zither. Naughty grandchildren are toying with my treasures. You will bring them back to me."

"Your possessions, or your grandchildren?" Ling Qi asked, wary of any muddled instruction from a spirit like this.

"Yes," the spirit replied cheerfully, fan fluttering, tongues of hazy orange flame lighting her mask of leaves and glittering eyes. "If you cannot even wrangle a few children back to me, why should I trust you to look after one in the longer term? I shall allow the use of my treasures for the length of your quest, if you wish."

"We will treat your treasures with reverence and care, Lady of the Falling Leaves," Bao Qian said gratefully. "Might I ask for more knowledge of the task, whatever information you may deign to give?"

The madam hummed thoughtfully, turning away to resume their trek, leaving the two of them to follow in the wake of her fluttering train. Hazy mist, cool and crisp as a bright autumn morning, billowed up around their feet, casting the halls of the pavilion in ever more distant haze.

"The first child is such a precocious little thing, dreaming of reaping and wind in her hair. My Jinli loves blades, and so, of course, she made off with my sickle for her play," the madam spoke, and it was not just sound, mere vibration in the air.

Jinli. Golden grain, golden experience, and whipping winds blowing through fields of wheat, treasure gathered through a long year’s work.

Ling Qi kept a careful feel of the nature of the spirit, which was the real clue, not her spoken name.

The contours of the hall were fading away, or twisting, or changing. The difference, if there could even be said to be one this deep in the liminal, was small. Towering, stately trees rose from the fading mist, and a dull orange sun perpetually on the cusp of sinking beneath the horizon shone down on them, casting long shadows. The moon, too, was visible, but washed out by the warmer light.

The madam's fan scattered the deeper mist ahead, revealing the leaf strewn ground of the path ahead as she continued. "Then, there is Lanchi, my little glutton. She styles herself a thinker, but is much more a budding voyeur, delighting in watching the foibles of mortals while she enjoys her sweets. Naturally, it was she who stole away with my mirror."

Cool waters lapping at the shore, and nights in front of the fire, contemplating days gone by and people, the mass of them, in all their joys and sorrows.

"And the last, a musician who plays with her grandmother's instruments. Am I wrong to say that her name might contain the character Hong?" Bao Qian asked.

"You and your kin would be most familiar with red," the Autumn Madam agreed. "Seeker of Joy, of all that glitters, masters of ceremony and festival even on days that belong to no spirit. Yes, my Hongpao thinks of herself as a musician, a dancer, and many other professions. I wager that containing her sparking spirit may be your most difficult challenge."

A blazing bonfire, the flashing red of a festival dress, and the roar of fireworks going off, and detonating in rippling color.

"I see. They will certainly be distinctive," Ling Qi said noncommittally.

Bao Qian muttered, "At least I have had practice."

"Indeed you have!" The Autumn Madam laughed. Her gown rustled across the leaves as she turned away, offering a lazy wave. "I shall not speak of my treasures. Such sharp-eyed youths like you two should be able to determine the powers they hold on their own."

Ling Qi had an inkling from the rites of the spirit before them. "Of course, Madam Autumn. May I ask if there are any restrictions? Obviously, we will not harm children or break your treasures."

"A fair question," the spirit replied. "I had considered telling you to keep your diamond snare to yourself, but it would amuse me to see silly children squirm. However, you must collect all of my grandchildren before returning. No dropping one off before finding another."

Ling Qi parsed that request. So, she could pick one autumn maiden to snare if it came down to it, unless she could convince them not to run off once released. Ling Qi nodded in acquiescence.

"As for you, young man…" the madam said, turning a gimlet eye on Bao Qian. "Tricks are fine, but do not tamper with the workings of my treasures too much."

"Never," Bao Qian vowed, bowing his head. "I will make no marks that cannot be easily washed away."

They stood in a forest clearing. It was not the deep woods where trees packed close together and every step was a struggle through the brush. It felt like the outskirts of a village, where the ground was regularly scoured for deadwood to keep the fires burning, and the smoke rising in the indeterminate distance seemed to match that.

"When you have collected my grandchildren and my treasures, the way to the pavilion shall become clear once again."

"Of course, Madam Autumn. We shall complete your task diligently.”

She did not say quickly. That would have been inviting danger.

By the spirit’s ringing laughter as she faded into the retreating, pale orange mist, she probably agreed.