Comission: Teacher (Elder Hua Su)

Hua Su clapped her hands twice and bowed her head, the sickly sweet scent of the incense smoke filling her senses. Three parts Autumn WInd Extract, four parts ground Seventh Night Petals, two parts Blue Moon Resin,... and one part Argent Ichor. Father had created this mixture, to create an incense capable of putting the dead of Ogodei’s rampage to rest. It was the scent that had drifted out over mass graves, over broken towns and cities, over battlefields and flooded valleys.

It soothed the pain of unclean deaths, imprinted on the world. Eased the breakdown of the fragments of malice that all souls left behind in the fury of a sudden ending. It prevented the formation of larger bodies of malice, and dissolved the bonds of pain that lent those already extant stability.

He did not need it. Her father had died at peace, allowing his qi to stop flowing of his own will. Yet, there was nothing more appropriate which could be burned for him.

In a way, she was glad her father had passed before war had come to the Sect again. She did not think he could have found such peaceful dissolution, in the strife that followed.

She straightened up. There was a small deviation in the qi of her gut pearl. A faint sluggishness in her heart pearl. Neither required medication, only rest and meditation. She wished she could say the same for everyone here.

Before her was fathers grave, a straight, five sided stone post, on which hung an open silk scroll inscribed with the characters of Hua Heng’s death poem. Behind her, was one of the last of her father’s friends

Yuan He, head of the Argent Peak Sect, stood there, looking out over its memorial yard. His aged but once vigorous frame was bent now, a subtle slouch to his shoulders that had not been there, and his weight rested ever more on the cane in his hand. The lines of his fae had grown deeper and his eyes…

They were sparking pits of lightning, shining blue white over his sunken features.

Irregularities in the heart pearl, a microsecond difference in every fourth pulse. A seven percent reduction in the qi processing efficiency of the gut pearl. Discoloration of the mind pearl, only just perceptible, indicating exhaustion and internal conceptual trauma. Breath pearl remained in optimal operation, but indicated building stressors due to heart pearl irregularity.

She knew a thousand cures for each one; elixirs, qi cycling regimens, medical formations, qi therapy techniques. There was zero purpose in recommending even a single one of them.

A patient who did not want to be healed was the most frustrating obstacle for a doctor to encounter.

A patient who could not be healed was a tragedy and tribulation.

Like her father, Yuan He could not be healed. The slow, hairline fracture in the very foundations of his being told her that. She did not know how many had noticed yet. He did not appear before other physicians, and though other Elder’s were far stronger than she, their eyes did not see as hers did.

A decade. Two at the utmost stretch. Then this era of the Argent Peak Sect, the era of the Argent Companions would end, for all that Ying and the handful of other sovereigns who held themselves in closed cultivation to act as the Sect’s final reserve would live on a while longer yet. She wondered what would happen, where they would go.

“Hua Su. It pains me to pull you from your respects,” Yuan He said, deep melancholy in his voice.

There was no heir. Jiao had threatened to disappear entirely from the Empire if it was pressed upon him, and there were precious few who could contest his ability to do so. Of the active Sovereigns, Nai Zhu was unsuited, her way was not a leaders. Zhuge Ke had retired once, and was loathe to shoulder the full weight of the Sect in his final century. Elder Bei… he might be able to hold the position, hold them together, if his cultivation deviation could be reversed.

“Sect Head Yuan, I know that you would not come without good reason. The Medicine Hall is needed at full capacity again?”

“A unit was caught beyond my sight,” Yuan He said, frowning deeply. “There are many wounded. The evacuees will be arriving soon.

She hesitated a moment. “...Uncle. As a physician, I must recommend you perform a cleansing rmeditation cycle, if your eyes are growing so clouded. How long, since you have reordered your spirit?”

She felt the tension ratchet up, the frission of lightning, of electricity that would rip a mortals nerves to pieces…. And it collapsed back into the old man’s shrunken frame.She didn’t need his reply. Six months at least. Si months of operating at his full capacity, as a seventh realm sovereign, pushing his information processing capacity to its limit, moving the whole of the Argent Sect Army like his own limbs.

“Little Su, I should have known that your sharp eyes could see,” Yuan He leaned heavily upon his stick. He looked like an old man in truth, save for the light burning under withering flesh. Power raged undiminished, three blazing cores of silver storm clouds fit to flood the mountains and valleys.

But the man was fading. “You know then, why I cannot stop. There is so little time left.”

Hua Su glanced at the grave behind her, and slowly shook her head. “I think that it is a failing of ours. Perhaps it is because I spend more time among the disciples, but… there is much that can be done, in a decade.”

So much could change, so many new threats or heroes could arise. A few years, giving lessons instead of another decade in isolation cultivation, like his peers. It had brought the end sooner…. But she did admire her Father’s path. She admired her uncle too.

“Eight hours. Your absence will be less harmful than another error. Please. I ask as your physician.”

Sect head Yuan, Uncle He, who had once carried her on his shoulders while she laughed and laughed, who had taught her the staff arts, looked as if she had struck him across the face.

She despised how she had to phrase it, but knowing how to compel stubborn old men was also a doctor’s skill.

“....Even now, my pride,” he murmured and it was less a man’s voice and more a rumble of thunder. “Very well. Eight hours, I will retire and meditate. Thank you Elder Hua Su.”

“You are welcome, Sect Head. I will return to the medicine hall and begin preparations,” she said, bowing.

Yuan He nodded, his outline snapped and sparked, and with a roar, he ascended into the sky as lightning, leaving the mist among the graves disturbed and swirling.

Hua Su turned back, eyeing the drifting incense smoke. An ending was coming. The Argent Sect had flown so high, held such power, thanks to the heroes of the deluge. But things had moved away from them, back to Xiangmen. There were not enough new stars rising, so many chose other paths. She had to wonder. After so long under the Hero Yuan He’s guidance, would they be able to stand on their own?