Threads 431-Snowblossom 3
The fluctuation of pressure as their little ship slid out from the depths of the lake made her shake her had slightly, an uncomfortable pop going off in her ears. For her first realm companions, their shaking hands nearly dropped their now guttering torches. She caught their eyes over her shoulder and gave a small nod. They had done well in their small part. She hoped that going forward, they were ready for a larger one.
The two of them straightened up under her gaze, and she returned to facing forward. They would have to hold their dignity for a while longer. After all, they still had to be received upon the shore.
There were many, many more lights there, even now, hours had passed while they sailed in the hazy, half realm of water and mist out in the center of the lake. The sun was gone from the horizon, leaving only the moon overhead. Stolid torchbearers waited for them upon the docks, but far more lights belonged to the semi-impromptu festival that had sprouted up.
The people of Shenglu town were few still, but there was enough. Farmers and their families mingled with fishers. While some hawked or swapped sweets and specialities in the streets, others smoked and grilled fish on impromptu wood stoves. Parades and dances took place in the streets, and everywhere, there were lanterns, held and carried, hung from eaves, or perched atop half-built foundations. It all shimmered through the mist, half a dream itself.
Ling Qi pulled her eyes away from the town towards the manor, where she spied a twinkling star standing on a high balcony. Cai Renxiang was not the type to mingle with such a street festival, and Ling Qi had been forced to agree that her liege would probably only make their people uncomfortable by trying. Gan Guangli was Renxiang’s face in the town, and he stood in the paved square now, belting out courageous tales with a half-dozen children dangling off his arms as he flexed and posed.
But that didn't mean Cai Renxiang couldn't participate in her own way. Light bloomed and cut through the mist. Clear and bright, a single ray scattered the darkness to fall upon her and the ship. It caught on the carvings on the ice and limned them in a halo of radiance that lit their little ship like a pale bonfire on the surface of the lake. It drew everyone's attention and drew them to the shore.
Chaos became order, without losing much of the cheer. People lined up, raising their lanterns to receive them. The beam of light followed their ship, thinning and dimming as they approached the shore.
Ling Qi considered the flows of the lake’s qi still trailing and clinging to them and her own slowly dissipating qi, which had diluted it, preventing the spirit’s presence from becoming a crushing prison or unintentional poison. She understood the purpose of the spirit seekers and their art which she had so slowly practiced. She also understood why it had not been a popular art. In it, there was very little concrete technique and very little direct power or lessons to be found.
It was as much a method of thinking, as cultivation. And the questions it asked were simple ones. What is the worth of your neighbors? Was it what you could take from them? What they could do for you? What you could accomplish together? Was it the safety of numbers? Was it in the danger they could ward off with their strength? What did it cost to be a good neighbor? How much could one ask before becoming a bad neighbor?