Standing under the bright morning sun, Ling Qi could not help the restless nerves that made her want to shift from foot to foot rather than remaining perfectly still, lined up between the other winners of the preliminaries. The weight of the crowd’s collective auras tingled at the edge of her senses and weighed down on her shoulders still, but after last night, it was easier to endure. A surreptitious glance to either side showed her fellow competitors all standing at the same attention.

  Cai Renxiang stood to her right, looking as stoic as ever. On her left stood Gu Xiulan, whose eyes burned with a fierce ambition and confidence as she gazed up at the stages and the Head of the Sect. Breathing in, Ling Qi focused her attention ahead as the Sect Head began to speak.

  “Welcome, all, to our second day of competition,” the old man announced, his ancient voice carrying easily through the stadium. He faced away from them, leaving her with only the sight of his billowing white cloak with the characters for “silver” and “wholeness” splashed across it. “Yesterday, you were witness to the winnowing of the Outer Sect down to the core of its most talented, but today, we will begin the true testing,” he continued. “Though unity is the strength of the Empire, each link in a chain must be forged to utmost strength, else the entire length be shattered. Today, our youth will display the strength that will carry the Empire into the future!”


  It was hard not to feel at least a little swell of pride as the Sect Head spoke. Just one year ago, Ling Qi had been a helpless mortal, and now, she stood here listening to one of the heroes of the Empire praising her, if indirectly. Later, she could worry about politics. Today, she just had to show the results of her cultivation.

  “Before we begin the tournament proper however,” Yuan He continued, and from the motion of his arm, she could tell that he was running his fingers through his beard, “we have the exhibition. In a normal year, a pair of our own elders would take the stage for a demonstration to encourage our disciples with a taste of what they might one day achieve.” Ling Qi had been somewhat curious if Elder Jiao would be one of the ones participating. The Sect Head made it sound like something was changing though. Were the Elders busy?

  “This year, however, a special arrangement has been made. In deference to the many august personages present, our most resplendent and honored Duchess has deigned to grace us with her performance, and the honorable and most redoubtable Lady Bai Suzhen has volunteered as her opponent.”


  Ling Qi blinked, bewildered, as a susurrus of murmuring and noise began to wash over them from the stands. She glanced at Cai Renxiang but found the girl’s expression pinched in the tiniest of frowns. The Cai heiress hadn’t been expecting this either.

  The Sect Head rapped his cane against the air beneath his feet, the resulting boom of thunder silencing the noise as he began to sink down through air until he stood at the edge of one of the four stages. “I will undertake the duty of containing the clash to the stage, and our own venerable Elder Jiao will see to the maintenance of the arena,” he announced.

  Ling Qi saw a flicker of shadow on the far side of the arena, and there stood Elder Jiao, his expression set in a frown of passive irritation. As she watched, he raised his hands, placing them upon one of the four corner pillars. “Disciples, pay your utmost attention. It is a rare day when one is allowed to witness the peak of cultivation.” Ling Qi straightened her shoulders as the Sect Head spoke, glancing back over his shoulder at them. “I cordially invite our honored guests to take the stage.”


  In an instant, the empty arena was occupied. There was no flash, no burst of wind or sound, only perhaps a tiny pop of displaced air as two figures appeared between one instant and the next, facing each other in the arena. Ling Qi shuddered as that same oppressive aura from yesterday slammed down onto her shoulders, but without it, she might have hardly recognized her liege’s mother.

  Cai Shenhua’s appearance had almost changed entirely from her appearance yesterday. Where before she had worn a clinging, form-fitting gown of scandalous cut, she now wore an elaborate dress to match anything Ling Qi had seen at the Golden Fields’ party last night. The tall woman was swathed in multiple layers of white and pale rose silk with wide billowing sleeves and a meter-long train of fluttering silk and lace at her feet. Her dark hair hung down to her feet in four braided streamers like black silk, fluttering behind her in a phantom wind that kept any part of her from touching the ground.

  The other woman on the stage was much more austere in appearance. Bai Suzhen looked much like her niece in the structure of her face. Her chin was perhaps a bit sharper, and her lips a bit thinner, but it would be easy, if she did not know already, to wonder if the woman was Meizhen’s mother. Her white hair was shot through with streaks of steely color as if her hair were truly strands of metal and was woven through an elaborate headdress which rose above the back of the woman’s head like a fan of jade knives.

  “I thank the both of you for your gracious acceptance of my little impulse,” Cai Shenhua said, her rich voice light. In her right hand, she casually held a silk fan, half-concealing her smiling face. “It is so very rare for me to receive the opportunity for exercise.”


  “It is my honor, Duchess Cai,” Yuan He said humbly, bowing his snowy head. “I regret only that I could not receive your attack myself.”


  “There are few others I would trust to properly contain a match such as this, Sect Head Yuan,” the Duchess replied easily. “Another day, perhaps.”


  “The arrangement proposed was satisfactory,” the Bai heir’s cool voice rang out, her expression neutral as she faced the Duchess with her hands hidden in the wide aquamarine sleeves of her simple but luxuriously layered gown. “It will be an honor to face the strike of a cultivator of such skill.”


  “And I will be honored to test the defenses of the legendary Bai clan,” Cai Shenhua replied evenly, a slight smile still playing across her lips. “If you and your subordinate would prepare……?”


  Ling Qi felt a tingling feeling of worry begin to bloom in her chest. Something far above her head was being set in motion here. She wished she could see Meizhen’s face right now. Perhaps

  was aware of what was going on. A glance at her own liege revealed only hints of worried realization.

  Sect Head Yuan cleared his throat then, raising his free hand toward the stage as he did. “The exhibition round will continue until the first drawing of blood. Begin!”


  Ling Qi had no more time to think then. The fan in Cai Shenhua’s hand snapped shut, and the world vanished.

  Ling Qi blinked then, almost losing her balance as the world once again changed. She found herself back where she had been, standing before the arenas of the tournament ground. It was obvious that she was not the only one feeling the disorientation, and those whose cultivation were only in the second realm were the worst off. Han Jian was pale, sweat gleaming on his brow, and one of the other boys who had squeaked through the preliminaries was nearly on his knees.

  In the arena, the two combatants had not seemingly moved an inch from their starting position. Yet dozens of rivulets of liquid metal from the slowing melting shards of steel scattered around the arena and the cracked stones at the Duchess’ feet spoke of the battle which had just taken place. Cai Shenhua’s expression was serene as the last flickering vestiges of a curved saber of light faded from her left hand.

  Bai Suzhen was a bit worse for the wear. She slowly lowered her right hand, which had been extended, palm outward. Ling Qi glimpsed a deep cut bleeding silver fluid on her hand before it vanished back into her slightly frayed sleeve. More obviously, the twin meter deep furrows of vaporized stone extending diagonally past the Bai heir to the edges of the stage evidenced the deflected attack.

  A glance showed Sect Head Yuan and Elder Jiao still standing at the edge of the stage. The Sect Head looked as serene as ever, if somewhat thoughtful, but Elder Jiao’s teeth were grit in frustration and effort. It was strange to see an Elder look genuinely out of breath.

  “I see the prowess of the Bai is not exaggerated in the slightest,” Cai Shenhua said then, her voice still light. “What impeccable movements, Lady Bai.”


  The elder Bai tipped her head in a very shallow bow, the ornaments in her hair flashing in the morning light as the rivulets of liquid metal scattered across the stage began to flow back toward her feet. “You are too kind, Duchess Cai. The edge of your blade is as ferocious as the tales say,” she said evenly.

  “Hoh, it is good to see that I have not lost my touch,” the Duchess said, snapping her fan back open with a twitch of her fingers. “I hope that we might one day have another round when you take your next step.”


  “I would be most satisfied with such an arrangement. You honor me with your regard,” Bai Suzhen said as the last gleaming drops of metal vanished beneath the hem of her gown. It was only Ling Qi’s familiarity with Meizhen that allowed her to see the hint of a satisfied smirk playing about the older woman’s lips.

  Ling Qi shuddered as she felt a brief pulse of power wash over her, furious and copper scented. It was gone almost before she could perceive it. She was right. Things far over her head were being played out today. She felt a tiny hint of resentment that whatever she did today, it would be overshadowed by the plays of those who stood above her, but letting out a single breath cleared it away. That was just the nature of the world. That was part of why she couldn’t stop climbing.

  As the two monstrous cultivators traded the final formalities and returned to the stands, Sect Head Yuan turned to face them. By then, those who had been impaired had already scrambled back into position. “As you can see, disciples, the peak of cultivation is a long climb indeed,” he said, moving his gaze along the line steadily. “Do not be discouraged, but rather, carve that knowledge into your hearts and strive for those heights.” The elderly man’s eyes met hers, and in them, Ling Qi saw the living heart of a storm fit to consume the world.

  The moment ended as his gaze continued past her. “Now, let us announce the pairings for this day’s battle. You will have one quarter hour to prepare for your match…… and to give our esteemed Elder Jiao time to repair the first arena,” he said with a faintly amused smile before raising his free hand and snapping his fingers.

  Lightning crackled in the sky over his head, lines of light and fire carving themselves into the air as they spelled out the tournament brackets.

  Threads 193-Liminal 2

  Ling Qi looked out over crumbling foundations and a single standing cherry tree. Here was the place where the three moons, or their avatars at least, had come to her nearly a year ago now to take her forth on a quest to examine her own past.

  It was here that she would start her own explorations of the Dream.

  “Done moping around?” Sixiang asked, looking up from where they crouched over the three rings of bronze and jade which made up the ancient scrying device and gate she had pulled from the dead Hui’s storage ring. The rings were placed carefully among the browning grass to line up with the faint lines of energy in the area.

  “I wasn’t moping,” Ling Qi retorted. “We needed to wait for the rings to charge. How’s your manifestation holding up?”


  “Easy peasy,” Sixiang said with a smirk, puffing out their slim chest. Sixiang had chosen to look more masculine today, keeping their hair shorter and their features sharper. “Told you that thing would be useful.”


  Ling Qi glanced toward the golden idol which they had placed in the center point between the rings. It did seem to make the rings power up faster, as well as ease the effort it took for Sixiang to manifest.

  “Let’s see what we can do with this.”


  “Onward to adventure,” Sixiang drawled, tracing their finger around the rim of the closest ring. It spat luminous sparks, and the air inside wavered.

  “So, what are we doing today that’s different from what we’ve done before?”


  “Before, when I taught you how to dance, I was teaching you how to skim along the edges,” Sixiang lectured, leaning an elbow on her shoulder. “You were good at that since you already knew the trick of moving without moving.”


  Ling Qi nodded, giving the spirit a gentle nudge to push them off her. Her very first movement art, the Sable Crescent Step, had been a lengthy lesson on the nature of darkness. Darkness was a state. Fade into it, and it was easy to simply appear wherever there was a lack of light. Of course, she was still limited by her human mind. She could only move to places that she could perceive, and she couldn’t disperse herself completely for very long. Doing so felt a bit like trying to hold her breath for too long as a mortal.

  “Yes, but I’ve also done more. You’ve taken me into Dream before.”


  Sixiang was already shaking their head. “Nah. I’ve let you experience my memories, but that’s not the same. Today, I’m gonna show you how to intentionally enter into Dream.”


  Ling Qi averted her eyes at the reminder of the desperate jump she had pulled herself and her fellow disciples into during their escape from underground, the one that had almost broken her open like a shattered vessel. “How do we get started on that?”


  “It’ll be easier because of our setup here, but if you’re gonna physically enter, the important thing is getting into the right state of mind,” Sixiang instructed. Ling Qi held back a snort as a small pair of spectacles materialized on their nose. “You have to sleep while waking.”


  Ling Qi stared at Sixiang. Sixiang stared back.

  Ling Qi raised an eyebrow. “Is that it?”


  “Can you explain how to breathe?” Sixiang retorted.

  “No,” Ling Qi agreed grudgingly. “Then what good is this?”


  “It’s not like I’m totally useless,” Sixiang drawled. “For you solid folks, it's about state of mind. Even when you’re calm, your mind is still going on about a bunch of stuff in the background. You’re not ever really not thinking about something.”


  “Are you about to tell me I need to clear my mind?” Ling Qi asked sarcastically.

  “That’s the opposite of what you need to do. If anything, you need to fill your mind. Dream is ideas,inspiration, and thoughts. It’s everything that goes on under the hood. That’s why dreams are usually just weird mishmashes of thoughts and experiences from the waking world. So no, don’t clear your mind. Lose your restraint entirely. Let yourself dream. I’ll be careful not to let you float away.”


  Ling Qi frowned as she stepped into the closest ring, feeling the hum of qi on her skin. Inside the ring looking out, the view of the grounds of the Outer Sect was hazy. It was like looking outside on a hot summer day. Her eyes drifted over the town at the foot of the Outer Sect mountain where her family was to the faint curl of smoke that marked Zhengui’s hill. Her eyes then wandered up to the cloudy sky where the immense coils of the Sect Head’s dragon companion still loomed in the sky. She craned her neck, spying the endless mountain peaks to the south.

  If there was one thing that she had come to learn recently, it was that she was ignorant of so much still……

  And she wasn’t satisfied with staying so anymore.

  Ling Qi closed her eyes. She let her mind wander, a hundred, a thousand thoughts boiling over one another, unrestrained by any attempt at focus. The rest of the world faded away as she let herself grow lost in the cauldron of her own mind. The last thing she heard as she reached a hand out and pressed it against something like the skin of a soap bubble was a chuckle from her muse.

  “Knew you’d get it, Ling Qi.”


  She felt her stomach lurch, and even the touch of ground vanished under her feet. Ling Qi felt a rising alarm as a sense of lightheadedness overtook her, and she felt her fingers begin to dissolve.

  Arms wrapped around her waist, and her weight snapped back. Ling Qi took in a sharp breath through lungs that no longer felt half-liquid.

  “Told you I’d stop you floating away,” Sixiang said, voice tickling her ear.

  Ling Qi shot them a dirty look over her shoulder as she opened her eyes and peered at their surroundings.

  They now stood in a bamboo grove before a humble shrine. The sound of a burbling spring reached her ears, and she turned to see a clear spring that had taken the place of the overgrown muddy pool which had been there in reality.

  “I could have used a little more warning,” Ling Qi rebuked.

  “You already knew the danger of the Dream.” Sixiang drew away. Wisps of colorful smoke rose from their limbs where their bodies had touched.

  “I wasn’t thinking of it,” Ling Qi grunted, raising her eyes to the source of golden light that illuminated the little shrine. The idol floated above their heads, twice the size that it had been in the physical world. Its expression was still serene, but an eddy of power swirled around it, and the lotus in its lap glowed with a dim unlight.

  “That was the point,” Sixiang reminded her.

  Ling Qi grimaced, breathing in what felt like heavily qi-dense air. “Is it always like that when crossing over?”


  “Yeah, ‘s dangerous. You solid people aren’t really meant to be here, and you’re still pretty attached to your body.” Sixiang clapped her on the shoulder. “It’s extra dangerous to go alone. Good thing you got me.”


  Ling Qi rolled her eyes but smiled as she turned away. Sixiang sniffed in mock hurt. “Where are we? This isn’t like last time.”


  “Well, yeah,” Sixiang agreed. “Last time, you jumped right in the deep end. This place is closer to the Real, so it’s more like a… shadow or impression of your world.”


  “I see,” Ling Qi murmured, casting one wary eye at the idol as she approached the shrine. Inside was an altar and an eight-sided mirror framed in black jade. The mirror shone with the gleam of moonlight on a clear night. Wisps of silver, infant faeries, drifted and flickered, their laughter like the soft ring of wind chimes in her ears as she reached inside and lit a stick of incense.

  It didn’t matter that she had no fire techniques. The incense lit because what else would an incense stick do? She clapped her hands twice and bowed her head to a mirror that shimmered black then turned away, striding toward the dirt path that wound out of the bamboo grove. A halo of moon fairies followed after her, swirling and dancing around her head.

  Sixiang waved their hands, shooing them away as they caught up.

  “Jealous of a bunch of kids, Sixiang?” Ling Qi asked.

  “Pfah, like a bunch of brainless babies can appreciate you. So what’s the plan?”


  “I’m not sure yet,” Ling Qi admitted. She grasped inside her storage ring and pulled on the last piece of loot she had acquired, a compass of dark red wood with a sliver of rainbow-hued metal spinning under the glass. She paused and squinted at it, but the sliver of metal didn’t stop spinning. “Where do you think we should go?”


  “Probably the wrong question,” Sixiang said as they resumed walking. Their words echoed weirdly here as if rising from the bottom of a deep pool.

  The bamboo grove stopped abruptly at a sheer cliffside, stretching infinitely down into darkness. Beyond it lay a forest, but nothing like she had ever seen before. The trees were immense beyond reckoning. They stood at a level with the lowest branches and yet the trunks stretched out of sight, and the glittering canopy overhead seemed as far away as the night sky. Mist drifted between trunks as wide around as whole townships, and the breeze sent branches larger than trunks a-swaying.

  She looked up, and there, in a single drop of dew clinging to an immense leaf, was a distorted image of the sect town, and beyond that in their own dewdrops were scattered bubbles. There, she saw the Outer Sect mountain, and there, the lowest of the Inner Sect peaks. Further beyond, she felt the distant rumble of thunder and caught a golden glow.

  She looked down into the infinite mist and caught movement, something vast but graceful passing between the titanic trunks. In the eddies of the mist, she saw the shadow of human construction carved into the dark wood, dozens, hundreds scattered about, stacked atop one another. There lived shadows flickering and quiet, yet no less real than the glittering dew above.

  “So, Ling Qi, what do you want to dream about?”


  “There’s one thing I picked up from Meng Dan that I think is right,” Ling Qi said, thinking back to the tapestry and its disappointing revelations. “The past isn’t the most important concern, but if you don’t understand it, you won’t really understand the present either.”


  Sixiang followed her gaze down into the dim mist far below and the teetering cities piled upon the platforms and low branches.

  “I’d probably have disagreed with you a year ago,” Sixiang said. “The present is what matters, and maybe the future… But I guess those nerdy cousins of mine have a point. Every dream comes from a memory.”


  Ling Qi studied the shadowed silhouettes below and willed herself to rise from the ground, only to blink as she failed to move at all. She glanced down at her gown, and the silky cloth seemed to almost shrink away in frustrated contriteness.

  “Don’t think you’re going to be able to rely on that one. What they usually manipulate isn’t here.” Sixiang stepped off the cliff, fell for a moment, and then bobbed back up like someone floating in the water. The air around their feet distorted.

  “And she isn’t developed enough to manipulate the dream,” Ling Qi realized, brushing her hand over her sleeve.

  “Not without losing bits.” Sixiang offered their hand. “Speaking of losing bits, Ling Qi, be seriously careful. No matter what happens, you gotta hold on to who you are. It’d be awful if something snuck into your skin.”


  Ling Qi nodded faintly, taking Sixiang’s hand as she focused firmly on her desire to descend. Was that the faint feeling of pressure on her mind? Was it the feeling of countless consciousnesses pressing down, threatening to bleed into her and change who she was? She’d thought, from her study, that it would be more overt.

  “Why would it be? This is the place where all barriers fade. Is it usually noisy when one cupful of water flows into another?” Sixiang asked. A sloping trail of starlight bloomed, and they began to slide swiftly downward along its curving trail, the wind tugging at their sleeves and hair.

  “I’ll be careful not to spill,” Ling Qi murmured. It would be a challenge. She was so used to dispersing when she wanted to hide that holding herself together was a more novel task.

  The two of them lapsed into silence as they rushed downward, new stars and beams of moonlight spinning into existence as they descended. Ling Qi’s eyes darted from one shadowed edifice to another, seeking anything of interest. In her free hand, the crystal compass continued to spin wildly and without direction.

  Her eyes fell on a structure within one of the haphazardly stacked cities. It looked like the great hall at the central plaza of the Outer Sect, but smaller and humbler.

  It was as good a place to start as any.