*Flops* Okay, need to work on sketching out the rest of the plot, because this story sailed way past my original endpoint. Such are the perils of starting an idea when you don’t know all of canon… characterization may not be what you expect!
“Yes! Exactly,” Wei Wuxian nodded. “Ghosts were people. And I know your Weaponsmaster’s told you; you don’t kill people. Not unless there’s no other way to save your life, or someone else’s.”
Ah. This, at last, made sense. At least to a man who knew Crathach, and the choices the Mindhealer would make when lives were in peril. Alberich folded his arms, considering that. “Another way, you sought to find.”
“He did find it,” Wen Qionglin said softly. “He’s helped many ghosts find peace.”
“First I worked it out in theory. I never thought I’d use it,” Wei Wuxian admitted. “But then… there was a war. And a lot of angry ghosts.” He clapped his hands together. “So! Let’s see what got hold of you, Theo. Cousin, I think it’s just some stray bits of a grudge, but….”
“Let me see.” Wen Qionglin took Theo’s wrist just as Wei Wuxian had, if even more gently. Stilled, half-closing his eyes as if to better sense the flow of angry energy. Nodded, and let go. “It doesn’t have any soul-shreds in it, or pieces of a curse. It’s just malice.”
“Excellent! Malice we can handle.” Wei Wuxian twirled his flute, red jade glittering in the afternoon sun. Raised it to his lips, and blew three short, sharp notes.
Alberich saw nothing - or almost nothing. A shimmer of air, perhaps, from near Theo’s heart? Yet white ears rose, and blue eyes gleamed more brightly. :Kantor?:
:…It’s almost a black smoke,: his Companion said thoughtfully. :He called to it, and it came away- Oh, ow. NowI can see where Theo’s hurt.: Heavy hooves clopped forward. Kantor nudged the boy, offering a warm whuff of breath.
The Bardling hiccupped, then buried his face in white hide. Kantor nickered as the boy hid sobs, rubbing his chin on young shoulders.
“Wow that’s a lot of white.” Leaning on a maple, doing his best to be quiet and unobtrusive and out of the way of all the suppressed panicking, Wei Wuxian watched the pomp and circumstances upriver.
There were Heralds and Companions all over the place. There were priests of all colors of robes, cotton and linen and practical wool fluttering in the cold wind off the water, waving censers and holy texts. There were reams of gold embroidery, and glints of noon sun from the circlets of the Queen and her Consort, for what could be more important to a true ruler than making sure the center of her very capital was cleansed of resentful energy?
And in the middle of it all were three less than thrilled cultivators in Nie green and Lan white, trying to set up a good, stable formation for when - not if - the waterborne ghosts turned nasty.
“Is that - Bull Rushing?” Wen Ning peeked around the trunk of the tree beside him, shading his eyes with one hand, head tilted like one of the crows being suspiciously quiet in a nearby pine. “I thought that takes four….”
“Looks like Hanguang-jun’s been practicing with Kellen as a backup for qi flow,” Wei Wuxian reflected. “Or I hope he has… eh?”
One familiar priest dressed in quiet cream wool, looking uncertainly around, loosely followed by a gaggle of students in blue and hints of green-
And not all of the blue in the air was light off clothing. Or even visible, to most eyes.
“More air-yaojing,” Wen Ning said softly. “But if they go after magic….” “Nie Huaisang just looks fluttery,” Wei Wuxian smiled. “When he’s interested in something - and he is interested in cultivating, with anything but the saber - you learn from people who love what they’re doing. You can’t help it.” Stepping out from behind the tree, he waved. “Hello!”
A/N: Warning, this chapter is going to take a long while. Work is exhausting, though I’m trying to get back on a regular schedule of writing.
We could be another option, in Rabbit Hole. I need to talk to Wen Qing and Wen Ning, but if they think it would work… we could take students. People who can’t fit most of Valdemar, but who don’t want to go across the world;
who don’t really want to leave, but the walls of Heralds and heroes are closing in too tight for them. We could be another way.
Like he’d given Vienne another way to work out her resentment, when she knew she could never reach her murderer. And here were a whole flock of student cultivators who ought to learn how ghosts should be treated. Hmm.
“Let’s start with the facts.” Wei Wuxian waved a hand to draw listening ears closer. “First, what priests do best for the dead is carry out the proper rites, laying bodies to rest so lingering souls are appeased and can pass on. True?”
“Along with comforting the living, and offering spiritual counsel, yes,” Gerichen allowed.
Wei Wuxian pointed to him, and swept his gaze over the students. “Both of which are very important. Never let any teacher tell you otherwise. The rites and upright example of a good priest reduce resentment. That makes living people less likely to be corrupted by demonic energies, and less vulnerable to being fed on by unhappy ghosts. A fierce ghost is dangerous. A fierce ghost that can feed on the rage and guilt of its entire clan can wipe out a whole night-hunt.”
“It happens,” Wen Ning nodded. “It’s… one of the ways rogue cultivators die.”
A blonde with tight braids and knives up her sleeves looked upriver at the rising incense. “So… what they’re doing there, is like pulling on boiled clothes, and scrubbing down your hands, so you don’t make patients sicker?”
“And so you don’t spread sickness out. Yes.” Wei Wuxian beamed at her. “Kais Asgurn, right? Nie-xiong mentioned you were an herb-healer.”
“Abone-healer.” Wen Ning gave her a slight, sincere bow. “Without cultivation? That must be so hard to get right.”
“There are priests in the Jianghu.” Wen Ning paused. “They don’t like cultivators much.”
“Which really isn’t fair, they’re fine at their jobs,” Wei Wuxian said virtuously. “We just get called in when they’re not enough.”
Father Gerichen’s brows climbed; he shifted his weight, as if braced for a vigorous argument. “You don’t think the Lord Patriarch and other priests will make a difference?”
He was not going to roll his eyes, Wei Wuxian decided. It was an honest question. “Patriarch or not… calling in a priest is like washing a wound. It helps keep it from getting infected. But once a wound’s gone bad, you need different kinds of healing.”
That drew the students’ attention; Mina in particular, who had been peering over at Wen Ning, gave him a wary glance. “Cultivators aren’t anything like priests!”
“Exactly.” Wei Wuxian gave the small flock of seedlings a look-over. “Which is a good thing, because priests won’t be enough for a river trying very hard to be a waterborne abyss.”
Father Gerichen only frowned. But from the way the students paled, some edging a little farther from the water, Nie Huaisang had told them stories.
Wei Wuxian spread his hands, reassuring. “It hasn’t gotten that bad. I don’t think it could get that bad, not with the Terilee running right through Companions’ Field. All that spiritual energy ringing out with every hoof-beat? Even a full-fledged abyss couldn’t do more than swirl under the surface.”
Wen Ning coughed, politely.
“Though that would be pretty bad for anyone who stuck a toe under the water,” Wei Wuxian allowed. “Father, it’s not just that Lord Orthallen used the river as his own personal unhallowed grave for anyone who annoyed him. Rivers have always been used that way. But this river flows through Haven, through the Palace, through Companions’ Field itself. It should carry the spiritual energy of a righteous ruler to the rest of her domain. Instead he laced it with the resentful energy of a traitor.” He took a breath. “And it’s worse because the ghosts trapped here by those treacherous acts resent their deaths, and their killers, and even the Heralds. Who were so close… and yet never protected them.”
Gerichen winced. “Heralds are only human, master cultivator.”
A Long Road Chapter 15 Ficbit - Definitions of Safe
This would be a bit tricky for youngsters. Even most cultivators considered oaths as more words than actual attempts to reshape the universe.
Then again, these young ones were from Valdemar. Legend said its founder had sworn an oath to do exactly that.
“Energy is shaped by intent.” Wei Wuxian thumped a fist into an open palm, choosing each word. “We intend a talisman to warm instead of burn. We intend a sword to fly left instead of right. Cultivation is how we make it work, but intent is why.”
The seedlings drew closer. Father Gerichen was listening carefully.
“Orthallen deliberately broke his oath, to harm the Queen, her Heir, and her loyal people,” Wei Wuxian went on. “Instead of a sword raised to defend, it’s a poisoned dagger stabbed in the back. That’s what we’re fighting; that, and all the ghosts it corrupted.”
Kais brushed back an escaping strand of blonde, red flush fading. “Isstabbed? Not wasstabbed?”
Wei Wuxian traded a quick frown with Wen Ning. They’d tried to brush up on the language as they’d raced to Haven, but Valdemaran was very different from the tongue of the Jianghu. “Yes? Is. He may be dead, but the broken oath is written on its victims’ bones. I don’t know if we can get all of those out of the river, but we should try.”
“So it is like an infected wound,” Mina muttered.
“Worse.” Kais’ nose scrunched, searching for the right words. “Like one with impacted bits of cloth and debris. No matter how you Heal it, it’ll just get infected again. Until you open it up and clean it all out.”
Wei Wuxian gave them both an intrigued look. “Good. Very good. And if you’ve dealt with raging infections, you know it’s going to be messy. So….” He made gentle shooing motions. None of the youngsters moved. Drat.
“Why are you all still here?”
Mina took a deep breath. “Because Nie-xiong said it’d be dangerous, anything even close to a water-ghoul is, and worse for anyone who knows just a little cultivation. He said the safest place for all of us to hide was right behind you.”
![Inktober 2018 [Day 20] - The Demon DeathCatching, catching, catching up. They’ll catch up with you.](https://64.media.tumblr.com/1976d5c7be80a5ebf5500bd922f6546d/tumblr_pirwri1RO31rm5hgoo1_1280.png "Inktober 2018 [Day 20] - The Demon DeathCatching, catching, catching up. They’ll catch up with you.")
