Claddings of Light : Book 12 of Painting the Mists

by Patrick Laplante

  “I… I didn’t expect the eminent Lord Eight Directions to make an appearance,” Lord Dazzling Dance said, trying to free his sword. “This has become very inconvenient. I’ll return. Mark my words, I’ll return!” He banished his demon weapon, and as quickly as he’d come, he stomped out of the building. It was just another normal occurrence in Shimmerwing City for anyone worth mentioning.

  “That’s new,” Cha Ming said. “I’ve never seen you use a spatial barrier like it. Why don’t we walk and talk?” Together, they headed out of the hotel and into the city streets. Huxian helped them along with a time-bending aura that he was getting very good at using. “How are things going on your end?”

  “I’m bored,” Huxian admitted. “I’ve mostly been spending time with a new friend since Gua and Miyue are busy.”

  “Do they still fight like a divorced couple?” Cha Ming asked.

  “In a way,” Huxian said. “Apparently they decided bickering wasn’t good enough, so they opened up competing businesses across the road from each other. Gua runs the usual shop, but she’s partnered with Mr. Mountain via long-distance communication and is trying to bring togas into mainstream fashion.”

  “Things are never boring when your friends are involved,” Cha Ming said. “Sorry I’m not more exciting.”

  “Eh,” Huxian said with a shrug. “You don’t do small trouble. You kind of lurk around until bam, time to duel the city lords.”

  “You don’t seem to upset about that,” Cha Ming said.

  “Life needs spice,” Huxian said. “With my normal friends, the best we do is destroy small restaurants. Bifang accidentally sets small fires all over the place, though she’s pretty good at not burning down buildings. That’s trouble around here.”

  “Who?” Cha Ming said. “Oh. Right. The new friend that exploded a food stall the other day and you had to bail out of jail.”

  “Yeah,” Huxian said. “That one. So. Whatcha got for me?”

  Cha Ming handed over his latest creations—all but his last few dozen attempts. He would eventually give those to Huxian as well, but he first needed them as proof of his progress. “All Grandmist sealed. I’m hoping they’ll fetch a decent price.”

  “I’ve got time on my hands, and Miyue and Gua’s contacts have been good to me,” Huxian said. “Any requests on ingredients?”

  “I’ll let you know,” Cha Ming said. “Thanks for helping me out. There’s just too much to learn and too little time.”

  “No problem,” Huxian said. “Need a hand going upstairs?”

  “You can do that?” Cha Ming asked.

  “Oh, please,” Huxian said. He led Cha Ming over to one of several large circles that ran up and down the tower. The Phoenix Clan, being composed mostly of avian demons, was quite capable of flight. They summoned wings that carried them between floors rather than taking the stairs like the common rabble.

  “Why have I never been told about this?” Cha Ming said.

  Huxian took Cha Ming’s hand. Instead of flying, they executed a short-range teleportation device. They stopped for only an instant of free fall before teleporting again. Five teleports brought them up a single floor, and before long, they were on the ninth floor where Cha Ming needed to go.

  “Thanks for the lift,” Cha Ming said. “Now that I think about it, I could definitely shapeshift into something that flies.”

  “Sure, though you’ll probably have to dodge bigger birds,” Huxian said. “Anyway, you caught me at a bad time. I gotta run.” He vanished, and Cha Ming felt him travel a whole floor down before appearing again.

  School was just starting as Cha Ming entered Shimmerwing Academy. Many Phoenix clansmen eyed him curiously as he made his way through, though none challenged him. They were here to learn, and they were the best of the best. Besides, attacking a member of the older generation was like kicking an iron sheet. There was too little to gain and too much to lose.

  “There you are,” Iridescent Tempest said in an annoyed voice. “You finally decided to show your face after two weeks?”

  Iridescent Tempest was Iridescent Wonder’s only apprentice. She hadn’t taken kindly to his joining them. She’d been tending the gardens again, infusing them with modified light from her iridescent alchemist’s fire.

  “I’m happy to see you too,” Cha Ming said.

  “Master was telling me that if you didn’t show up soon, he was going to give up on teaching you,” Iridescent Tempest said.

  “I learn quite well on my own, thank you very much,” Cha Ming said. “Just so you know, I’ve been here twice since last time. Did Elder Iridescent Wonder not tell you?”

  She sniffed. “You will call him Master.”

  “I’m afraid we don’t have a master-and-apprentice relationship,” Cha Ming said. She glared. “Don’t look at me that way. I’m just a test subject. You’re way more important than I am.” This did nothing to alleviate the tension between them, and he immediately realized why. She thinks I’m abasing myself on purpose to posture. So he changed his tune. “Regardless, I think he’ll be happy to see me. You’re just a common gardener, and I’m someone who could make or break his entire research.”

  “Fine. Go embarrass yourself,” she said. “I’ll continue to stay here being unimportant.” She went about her work, humming happily. According to phoenix logic, she’d stuck to her guns and won this argument. According to Cha Ming logic, he’d won by escaping it. A win-win situation.

  I’m going to be very happy when I leave this confusing place, Teacher, Cha Ming sent to Sun Wukong.

  You think this place is strange? Sun Wukong said. You’re lucky you aren’t in one of those really crazy places. In some demon clans, you have to literally slap every person you meet as hard as you can. If you don’t, you’re insulting them, and they’ll fight you to the death.

  What if you’re too strong for them? Cha Ming thought.

  Then you shouldn’t be talking to them, and they shouldn’t be talking to you, Sun Wukong said. Simple hierarchy.

  Demons are crazy, Cha Ming replied.

  He entered the enclosed laboratory with its bubbled ecosystems and varied lights and the chamber filled with different candles. One candle held a new addition: a Grandmist flame. Another was a flame with shimmering colors. It was his goal—an iridescent flame, though his would be natural. Iridescence came from the heart, Iridescent Wonder had said.

  “Both iridescent and Grandmist flames are powerful things,” Elder Iridescent Wonder said, walking over as Cha Ming stood there observing the peculiar flame. “I used the Grandmist one just yesterday. It was very useful for pill crafting, and it cut processing times by quite a bit. Pity the seal only formed right half the time, which is more than can be said when using an artificial iridescent flame.”

  “Thus your goal to fuse them together,” Cha Ming said. “You’re hoping that the adaptable nature of Grandmist will allow iridescence to be imbued artificially.”

  Iridescent Wonder smiled. “If such a flame could be produced and captured by a flame seed, it could be possible for all alchemists to imbue both properties into the seal.”

  “You don’t look very hopeful,” Cha Ming said.

  “Iridescence is finicky,” Iridescent Wonder said. “I’ll be satisfied if you simply merge it with your flame. Now, then, show me what you’ve done.”

  To answer, Cha Ming summoned the dozens of pill bottles he’d kept. All of them contained different mid-grade pills that he’d personally learned and crafted. Each had a Grandmist seal, which meant they’d been forged with his flame to an acceptable level of quality.

  “You make these so easily,” Elder Iridescent Wonder said, taking one pill out from its bottle. “Without a flame like yours, it takes a great deal of skill to harmonize a pill to this degree. Usually, a golden seal is the best someone can hope for outside of iridescence.”

  “If it’s possible without my flame, can an alchemist not forge a perfect pill with iridescent flames, therefore making a dual seal?” Cha Min
g asked.

  “No,” Elder Iridescent Wonder said, putting the pill back into its bottle. “Perfection has more than one axis. The one aspect of perfection I was referring to was harmony. Iridescence runs in the opposite direction. Adaptability doesn’t matter, only strength. Some would argue that a pill can’t be both adaptable and strong at the same time, which is why Grandmist rejects iridescence.”

  “But it’s an untested theory,” Cha Ming said. “Because Grandmist cultivators are so rare.”

  “Indeed,” Elder Iridescent Wonder said. “Come. We have work to do.” He led Cha Ming past his office and into a room that contained four torches, one in every corner. Each glowed with an iridescent flame that was tied by karma to none other than Iridescent Wonder.

  “Sit,” he said, gesturing at a runic circle in the room. “The circle is a simple tool used to strengthen attunement to iridescent flames. Phoenix clansmen use these when undergoing their burnings. I hope that with this, combined with iridescence endowment pills, we can grant your gray flame what many think is impossible.”

  “So… I just sit here?” Cha Ming said.

  “Obviously not,” Elder Iridescent Wonder said. He took the Spark of Iridescence Pill that Cha Ming had just crafted. “Pity. I’d hoped some iridescence would bleed over into the seal. Perhaps at the next level.” The pill Cha Ming crafted was a mid-grade pill, only a step up from its lesser-grade version, Modicum of Iridescence. “Consume the pill, and you’ll know what to do.”

  Cha Ming did so. He felt his entire body go alight with flame. It didn’t burn him so much as ignite feelings he’d buried deep. He simultaneously felt love, passion, anger, determination, grit, and many other emotions he couldn’t put into words.

  They vied for supremacy in his heart, each one manifesting as a single color. Information flowed into Cha Ming’s mind. He needed to choose an emotion to feed it. Should he pick satisfaction? Determination? Joy? It wasn’t an easy decision, but he didn’t have much time. He ultimately settled on satisfaction, and memories flooded into him.

  He remembered the time he’d succeeded in fixing his core. A golden flame of triumph appeared deep inside his spiritual sea beside his Grandmist flame.

  Merge the flames, a voice instructed from the pill.

  You can think? Cha Ming thought.

  Only for an instant in time, and only for what matters, the pill replied. Merge the flames.

  He brought the golden fire to the Grandmist flame that hovered in the place where his Clear Sky World and his spiritual sea intersected. As the golden flame approached, it began to shrink.

  It needs more fuel, the pill said. More… itself.

  Cha Ming understood what it meant. He tried to think of other related memories. The time he’d succeeded in reforging his broken qi pathways. The many battles he’d won. One by one, they poured into the golden flame, and it burned larger and brighter. Then, when he could think of no other feelings, he tried again.

  He got closer this time. The flame didn’t flicker or sputter, but still, as it approached the Grandmist flame, it grew weaker. They weren’t equals, he sensed. They would not mix. Cha Ming hesitated but decided to try anyway. He pushed, and the fire sputtered. Then he opened his eyes and found that he was back in the room with the four torches.

  “Not strong enough,” Elder Iridescent Wonder muttered from behind him. “It seems your Grandmist flame is too powerful.”

  “They didn’t even make contact,” Cha Ming confirmed.

  “I suspected as much,” Elder Iridescent Wonder said. “But never fear. This is but a single failure. You’ll improve as you learn to craft better versions of this pill. This is, after all, the pill you’ll be crafting for the competition.”

  “Is there any particular reason for that?” Cha Ming asked.

  “Naturally,” the elder replied. “You’re trying to learn a lot in a short amount of time. You won’t master alchemy. At most, you’ll get good at one kind of pill. There are two benefits to crafting an iridescence pill for the contest. First, it’s difficult to craft. It will impress the judges. Second, these pills have a chance of something called ‘iridescent bleed-over.’ Even humans, who lack iridescence, have a chance at forming an iridescent pill seal on them instead of a gold one.

  “You want to try two angles, then,” Cha Ming said.

  Iridescent Wonder nodded. “One possibility is fusing flames, and another is indirectly fusing iridescence and Grandmist by fusing seals. Both are possible, but why not try both? As a bonus, you can consume any pills you create, and with every pill, you’ll come closer to our eventual goal of iridescence.”

  “Then I’ll do as you say,” Cha Ming said. “Though I’m afraid I’ve run out of reading materials and pills to craft.”

  “Things will only get harder from now on,” the elder warned. “The benefits you’re receiving from your talisman-artist training will reduce in effectiveness.”

  “Noted,” Cha Ming said.

  The elder grabbed a piece of parchment and began scribbling down more instructions. More books from the library. More pills he needed to create. This time, he added a few extra notes—homework, as it were. He would need to accomplish specific tasks and modify the recipes he created in certain ways. He handed the sheet to Cha Ming, then made a shorter list, with names and approximate prices.

  “This is?” Cha Ming asked.

  “An ingredient list for the peak-rune-carving pill Boon of Iridescence,” Iridescent Wonder said. “There are less than two and a half months till the competition, so you’ll need to start looking for several batches of ingredients before it’s too late.”

  “Each one is more expensive than my entire net worth,” Cha Ming noted.

  “Then you’d better start producing,” Iridescent Wonder said. “Most of these items will disappear from the marketplace the closer we are to the competition. I’ve put a star beside the most important ones. As for the last item, the feather of an investiture-realm phoenix, I’ll supply it myself, as long as you’re competent enough. Don’t disappoint me, boy.”

  “Thank you for all your help,” Cha Ming said.

  “This is all for data,” the elder said. “And research. You still have a long way to go.”

  “All the same, you have my gratitude,” Cha Ming said. He excused himself and left the workshop and exchanged looks with Iridescent Tempest. He averted his eyes to signal his failure.

  “Even phoenixes take years to succeed, you know,” Iridescent Tempest said as he left.

  “I don’t have years,” Cha Ming said with a wistful smile. “If I take that long, I’ll be dead.”

  Chapter 13: Auction

  Knowledge.

  In a mortal realm, it could be summarized in books and understood as long as one had the mind for it. It put pressure on one’s soul, certainly, but nothing was off-limits as long as one took their time and could conceptualize things. It was in transcendent realms, however, that knowledge exceeded the limits of writing. Some things just couldn’t be put into words.

  Cha Ming spent a week in the library. A full week in his own separate reading room, fully abusing the time-accelerating properties of the Clear Sky World. Ten weeks of soul-searing agony had passed, with Cha Ming struggling to retain as much as possible. Basics, like primers, he took in readily, but specific recipes were hit or miss.

  Now, Cha Ming found himself in a world of shining lights, with many fires burning anything they touched. This was the recipe for Loan of Iridescence, the next step toward the pill he would eventually create for the competition. He had experienced this trial before, in learning the prior recipe, but he knew better than to try approaching it in the same way.

  Instead, he analyzed the flames. They licked him with different emotions, the same emotions that could fuel any flame he so desired. They formed their own interconnected web in which some emotions were more important than others. No, that’s not right. They were more important to him, and that was why he’d thought this.

  He began g
athering fires, and with them, he created a story. He based it around love, heartbreak, grit, and hope. It started at the beginning when he was nothing more than a lost soul in the river of reincarnation and ended at the present moment. This pill wasn’t like other pills. The recipe changed greatly for every crafter.

  The central flame was his story. He added small fires to it, each one a different color. The goal: iridescence. He built the fire in layers, much like he would a talisman. The first layer built on his knowledge of lesser-iridescence endowment pills. Same with the second. In the third, however, he began to sprinkle in emotions. A hint of hopelessness here and the need to move on there. He added sprinkles of emotions like elation and joy. And in the fourth layer, he added more complex flames, and as such, more complex emotions.

  Patience, Cha Ming reminded himself as he wove his tale. You might not even succeed this time around. Indeed, he’d experienced much success on this outing. Out of the many recipes he’d sampled, he’d failed to obtain three quarters of them. Only by experimenting would he be able to return and come back again for another attempt. Otherwise, he could only expect repeated failures.

  Cha Ming continued collecting. The fourth layer added much to the multicolored pill recipe that was gradually taking shape in his mind. It was different than the original version, and already he could see himself making drastic changes. For example, why crush the lightning sapphires into a powder when he could make a slurry with the demon-bite hawthorn berries?

  There were limits, however, and this pill recipe wasn’t easy. It wasn’t long before he could no longer take it. His fire had grown, but it had yielded no recipe. Since his soul body could no longer withstand the heat of the flames, it turned to ash, expelling him outside the jade slip he was studying. He scrambled to latch on to as many fragments of knowledge as he could, chaining them to the knowledge matrix in his spiritual sea. It was an exercise in futility.