111 Two sides to every conversation

As the second intruding Consumer stood in front of him, her head bowed in supplication, Chún was in the midst of a heated argument with Tai. Thoughts and emotions flowed up and down the link between them with the speed of thought - between one breath and the next - as he stood frozen with the World Tree Staff poised to crush the young woman.

"Stop? What!" he howled in anger and not a little fear into the link, "why are you stopping me?"

"She would make an excellent ally," replied his locus calmly, "as she is the Heir of the Sect that was just destroyed by the collapse of their secret land. Given the situation, that would make her the leader of whatever remnant remains. The Grass Consumer you just killed was bragging about using her and the women left in the group of refugees for his cultivation."

"A leader of a refugee group? You mean this is who Grass was searching for?" Chún sent a feeling of confusion into the link as he looked down at the girl bowing in front of him, "she looks young…"

"She is almost a year older than yourself," Tai replied with some amusement.

Chún rolled his eyes, thankful for the Essence Mist Cloak hiding his features, "her being a refugee with many enemies is hardly a good reason to spare her life," he pointed out reasonably into the link, "she will probably lead whatever is left of Grass straight to you… us."

"Her Sect just took the majority of Grass' forces with them in their suicide," returned his locus, "as I told you a couple of days earlier - their remaining forces are low leveled consumers, currently retreating or fleeing in confusion from the aftereffects of the collapse of the secret land."

Tai continued persuasively, "Outside of a few elder Consumers that cannot leave their strongholds and risk leaving Grass' lands unguarded - the Cult no longer has any active high leveled Consumers left. Their ranks have been severely weakened due to the disastrous outcome of the siege and Grass must now fend off other groups trying to take advantage of their vulnerability."

Tai paused for a moment, "Between the both of you, you just killed the highest ranked Grass Cult Consumer left in your generation that could have caused any problems. We need to take advantage of that."

"We should care about this, why?" demanded Chún, "You and the old man have spent the last two or so months telling me we need to hide from the Consumers."

Tai snorted, "The development of the Essence levels in this area is too obvious after this latest incident. While similar effects are being felt all over Golden Crow - the interaction…"

"Yes, yes, I believe we have already been over the effects of our Essence Levels plus those of the explosion," interrupted Chún wearily, "at considerable length…" he paused and focused his attention directly on the young woman who appeared, to his Essence enhanced senses, to be trembling ever so slightly, "...I take it you want to develop her group into the 'friendly Consumers who have a stake in protecting and hiding the area' that you were talking about the other day."

"Yes," admitted Tai, "they will be looking for a safe place and if they are indebted to us…" the hidden world paused, then rushed its next concepts through the link. There was a brief image, the sensation of a protective army ringing the lower mountain slopes on Golden Crow, its fortifications deterring anyone who would seek the Mountain's true secrets.

As the young True Cultivator winced at the headache caused by the flood of concepts, his locus hastened to add, "there is another reason… while she was making her way up the mountain - she was headed directly for the rift the whole time she was fleeing the Grass Cultist. I was activating Defensive Dao Patterns the whole time they were blasting their way up the mountain, but she was slipping through without realising they were even there. In comparison, the Defensive Dao Patterns - were - delaying that unmarked Cultist, but I did not have time or stability to bloom anything substantial, so he blasted straight through everything that managed to trap him, straight for her."

"What is the significance of that?" asked Chún even as the comment stirred a memory of another conversation, "...are you suggesting some greater Dao is guiding her?"

"Those that are meant to find their way to the Mountain will, regardless of any efforts we make," agreed Tai, "it is most interesting reviewing their battle. The Land records her pursuer was of the opinion that this young woman was almost entirely to blame for the current situation that caused Grass to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory."

"That sounds like that probability stuff you told me about weeks ago - I thought that applied only to True Cultivators," Chún pushed his frustration into the link, as he recalled the details, "or those a True Cultivator might affect - you are saying this is because of me?"

"If she is a pivot - what humans call someone Favoured by the Heavens - the Dao will be tilting odds in favour of her success, but you are correct," mused his locus excitedly, "if she is to become someone important to you, your nature as a True Cultivator and a Balance of Heaven would reach out to affect her as well - especially if she is part of the larger design to revive Golden Crow…"

"Stop, stop…" Chún resisted the urge to rub his glabella for fear that it would ruin his image, then let his shoulders slump with a sigh, lowered the staff and rubbed it anyway, letting the cloak the retreat into its normal state as he released the Essence he was channeling, "how much of that is complete speculation on your part?" he pushed the question forcefully into the link, more in an effort to stem the rush of concepts, odd shapes and symbols that were currently flowing out of his locus like a river, ignoring the startled reaction of the young woman as his 'Mountain Spirit' disguise dropped.

"It is not speculation," protested Tai in a wheedling tone, although Chún was struggling to articulate how an entire planet could sound like a toddler begging for a treat, "well, not entirely. Look at her cultivation - it is very unusual for a Consumer - it is almost completely in sync with her Dao…"

Chún closed his eyes and with an effort, untangled his Essence from the link, pushing his locus's stream of consciousness further down into his subconscious than he had for a long time - since the first time his connection was lost with Tai, in fact. As the Hidden Mountain's indignant sputters subsided to a quieter awareness in the back of his thoughts, it occurred that he may have been relying overmuch on his locus lately.

Opening his eyes with a sigh he looked down - very slightly - at the Consumer still standing in front of him, thankful that he could carry on entire conversations with Tai in the space between breaths.

Wide, curious eyes stared back and Chún could almost see the furiously churning thoughts behind them.

"Why should I help you?" he asked bluntly, "your battle already, nearly caused a disaster. I am not some righteous hero out of a jianghu tale to slavishly follow the requests of a beauty. Everyone knows how those sorts of stories end."

---

Dàilán held her breath after she made her plea, struggling to hold her bow in front of the luminous being, acutely aware of the waves of Essence and the sheer weight exuded by it - especially the almost physical pressure coming from that weapon so close to her head.

Even as she fought not to tremble or show her fear, the part of her that was the young girl who had always loved Jianghu tales was jumping about in excitement. It was just like something out of legends; that weapon reminded her of the stories about the Monkey King's staff…

...There was a sound that was almost exactly like a sigh of frustration from the glowing creature. The sound was so unexpected - so human, Dàilán found herself looking up in surprise - and froze in stunned appreciation as the mist retracted into a robe wrapped around the being, to reveal the most - gorgeous - young man she had ever laid eyes on, causing her to release an involuntary gasp of appreciation.

Her eyes involuntarily traced the almost glowing, jade white skin on his exposed arms, face and neck, covering perfectly proportioned, tightly corded muscles; broad shoulders, arms and chest wrapped in a robe that almost looked like pure liquid Essence.

The strange robe shifted and covered him like opaque water, Essence mist drifting off of its surface without concealing the shape of his body, a hood thrown back behind his neck, wrapping around the perfect triangle of a strong upper torso tapering down into a narrow waist - leading to strong thighs and powerfully shaped legs that the strange robe clung to, almost highlighting the perfectly defined male body - all without any of the over-muscled shapes that a lot of male body cultivators developed.

Blinking in embarrassment at her improper reaction, Dàilán pulled her eyes back up to meet his eyes in apology, but instead of the glowing, almost beast-like, orbs of barely contained power she had seen earlier, she was met with the sight of smooth jade skin. His closed eyelids, tipped by almost indecently long and incongruously delicate-looking silvered eyelashes, fluttered like a moth's wings as a perfectly shaped and powerful looking hand with long fingers that appeared both clever and strong, rubbed between the silver eyebrows that swept upward like sword blades.

A perfect face, almost too beautiful for a man - high cheekbones, strong but delicate jaw; too sharp to be anything but male, but looking almost as if it had been carved by a master artisan from the finest lamb fat jade - Dàilán thought suddenly, inanely, that Gi Chian - her First Cousin's finance, widely considered the most handsome man in several provinces - looked like a peasant next to this man.

His hand dropped, those craftsman's fingers brushing a slim, sharp nose that almost looked like an eagle's beak; on anyone else it would have been a flaw - here the strong feature merely made him seen real as opposed to an impossibility - and highlighted the otherwise classical perfection of his features.

With an effort that felt almost as great as the battle earlier, Dàilán forced her gaze away from his face, flushing at almost being caught staring twice - thankful that his closed eyes meant he had not caught her staring like a peasant child at a noblewoman.

She was the Mist Orchid of Hujian, with more suitors than she had ever wanted - she did not find men beautiful; but she suddenly felt a frisson of pity for all those boys she had brushed off as nuisances. If any of them truly felt even a fraction of this raw attraction towards herself - she suddenly understood that she might have been slightly unfair.

As Dàilán's eyes left his face, they fell on his hair - a river of platinum that spilled free of the strange robe's hood - and she found herself wondering how anyone could have hair that looked like precious metals - what did it feel like, she wondered?

His throat knot shifted slightly as his lips parted to breathe out and she found her gaze tracing his neck and jaw line just to avoid thinking of how soft and strong his lips would feel on her skin.

Wide expressive eyes that glowed with Essence, even as the previous brilliance of blazing power faded from them, glared forbiddingly down at her, pulling her eyes towards them as if her jaw was gripped and turned by a hand.

"Why should I help you?" he asked, with a clear voice that reminded her of deep temple bells, with a strange resonance that sent her stomach quivering, "your battle already nearly caused a disaster. I am not some righteous hero out of a jianghu tale to slavishly follow the requests of a beauty. Everyone knows how those sorts of stories end."

The incongruity of this impossibly gorgeous man calling her beautiful caused Dàilán to flush again; she circulated her Essence in an effort to regain control of her body; she was not a fainting maid, she thought with annoyance at herself.

The part of her that had always been competitive flared to life even as she detected the irritation hidden in the question.

As her flush faded Dàilán deliberately pulled her own hood back to fully expose her own features, thankful that whatever strange wave of Essence had healed her, had also destroyed the Cultivation impurities and the majority of the dirt and blood that her body and face had been covered with, leaving her own complexion and skin relatively clear.

Slowly, Dàilán pulled down the concealing mask that was part of her robe and made a production of shaking her hair free with a practiced twist of her head, pushing Essence through it to let if flow smoothly down behind her; it had had come free of its braid during the battle and she was glad to have it flow free rather than catching on her cloak and overheating her back and neck under the robe.

The time this took also gave her a moment to gather her scattered thoughts which churned furiously as her poor bargaining position began to sink in, with growing dismay; If the Healer was right - and this young man's effortless healing of Dàilán's wounds suggested she was - this person was a Medicinal Sage, her Clan - her family's - only hope; with the communication jades disrupted and the wilderness thrown into a frenzy, she would never find anyone else so powerful in time - and even if she did, they would be even less likely to be able or willing to help.

The fact that poets had often made entire songs about the beauty and perfection of her face, skin, eyes and the length of her hair was entirely irrelevant of course, but for the first time in her life - and for more reasons than she felt entirely comfortable examining closely - Dàilán hoped for an appreciative audience.

"Senior," it never hurts to flatter men, Dàilán thought, the idea lacking its usual bite, "this lowly Cultivator thanks you for the assistance you have already provided in healing me. I am aware that I am in your debt - but I have travelled to find you - the Medical Sage - to help my Father who was injured by the very man who pursued me." She hesitated, but had to know, "is he…?"

"The Grass madman is dead," he responded dryly, " but as you have pointed out - I have already killed your enemy and healed you. I see no reason why I should add to your debt. Be thankful that I merely require you to leave in repayment." He turned away, clearly intending to leave.

Dàilán's breath caught in her throat as the terror she had been holding back since witnessing her Grandfather's sacrifice came rushing back and before she had made a conscious thought - her hand reached out and grasped onto his arm.

He stilled and Dàilán made a soft cry of shock at her own actions; she should let go, she must…

Instead her mouth opened and words came spilling out, "I beg of you. My Father is the only true blood family I have left. Even my adopted sister - I do not know if she lives or is on her way to Yama's Halls. If I am to be an orphan, let it be after I have moved the heavens themselves rather than through any inaction of mine. I know you could kill me… but I would rather die - than let you leave willingly - knowing you could save them."

Dàilán swallowed as he turned his head to regard her, gazing down on her hand around his arm, then lifting up to meet her eyes, "You would trade your life for theirs, then?" His question and expression was curious rather than cruel but she nodded in agreement and closed her eyes as her heart fell, "Yes. If it would take my life to help them, I will give it up willingly."

"And if I did not want your death, but rather yourself…" His voice was intent and Dàilán fought to steady suddenly shaking limbs, "...would you give yourself to me, willingly?"

Despite herself, a thread of bitter disappointment flared up within her, twisting her heart and cooling her emotions. He was just like all the other men then, no matter how he appeared. Her hand released his arm and she took a single step back to look him in the eyes, "if you were worthy of me? Yes."

The magnificent man looked at her and his lips curved upward as he stepped around and in front of her, holding her eyes without any of the lust or covetousness she expected from his previous question, "You set conditions?"

Dàilán found her eyes narrowing, as surprise at the clearness of his gaze set her heart thumping, raising her chin defiantly to hide her confusion, "would you value something given away in desperation? Or do you doubt your own worth to me?"

The young man grinned, "You do have a good point. If you just said yes, I would hardly think it worth my effort," his eyes narrowed intently, "but it was not your body I spoke of. I am asking you to willingly hold my secrets and guard them. An oath to the Heavens and the Dao on your blood, your soul and your… Cultivation… all in secret from any other. That, Heiress of Sect and Clan, that is something worth trading for."

Dàilán felt her breath leave her explosively and almost instantly her vision hazed red - he was going to demand a Dao Oath to save her family…?

While a cooler part pointed out that he had only asked for her silence and protection, not her body or soul in servitude - and had she not just agreed to give him her life and body - the rest of her wanted to tear his throat out, Spirit of the Mountain or not.

Before she could even consider an answer the young man held out a commanding hand and his next words left her spinning, her thoughts completely jumbled as the words struck her suppositions like the great bells they sounded like and left them shattered.

"Before you decide, let us go and help your family - as payment for your consideration, shall we say - then I can be sure that your choice is your own. I wish for an ally, not a scorpion." He peered at her and Dàilán was vaguely conscious that her eyes were wide and staring while her mouth hung open stupidly, even as the impossible being turned around again - looking over his shoulder impatiently - as he began to stride down the mountain, "I understand time is of the essence?

---

"...Everyone knows how those sorts of stories end." Doing his best to ignore the strange breathlessness Chún felt as he looked down into those wide entreating eyes, he felt satisfaction. Even Tai could not claim there was a - logical - reason to keep this Consumer around, Dao or not.

His thoughts were interrupted as she moved and Chún almost brought back the cloak in reflex to hide his expression behind as the woman pushed back the hood of her robe and pulled down the cloth mask to expose her entire face, the extraordinary beauty of her full appearance hitting him almost like a physical blow.

He had never seen a woman who looked like someone out of one of the village storyteller's songs; an ancient piece of poetry that the old man always used about girls in his tales that always seemed stupid - because he had never seen anyone as beautiful, pointed out part of his thoughts - suddenly ran through his head "...sinks fish and entices birds to fall, eclipses the Princess and her Attendants and shames flowers…"

The young woman's eyes seemed impossibly dark. Perfect, phoenix shaped, deep and mysterious, pulling his own gaze to hers. Could eyes glow darkly - like the night sky full of stars? He thought he had noticed them before, but now unobstructed they commanded attention.

Everything about her face was strong - he thought in fascinated appreciation as the young woman blinked slowly, her hands nimble as they pushed back the cloth around her face - but almost delicately shaped as if someone had taken all of the old StoryTeller's stories about Cultivator Fairies and brought them to life in front of him.

He had been amazed at his own skin once he realised how much Cultivation had changed his own appearance; her skin put his to shame - almost seeming to have an inner glow that was different from his, but brought to mind thoughts of the legendary princess that brought the smaller lights of the night after the Golden Crow went to its nest - or the silver gleam of a perfect blade - even under the full crow-light.

He wondered if this was a side-effect of Cultivation; and if True Cultivation made someone more aligned to their own Dao - a more perfect representation of themselves, where Consumer Cultivation broke and rebuilt into something else, what did that say about this woman's Cultivation?

Despite the streaks of dust and dirt and the now obvious strain in her expression, they only seemed to add an air of noble effort to her features; her lips, eyebrows, nose, cheekbones - seemed almost ethereally drawn on by some heavens gifted artist - to create a harmonious whole that stole his breath and caused his heart to skip. Surely such perfection could not be created with broken or incomplete cultivation techniques?

Chún fought to keep his expression from changing; the beautiful woman's reaction to his question about why he should help her after the near disaster her conflict had caused was almost impossibly bold for a village girl - let alone someone who was likely an unmarried noble woman - at least according to the old StoryTeller's tales. Perhaps it was different as she was from a Consumer Clan and Sect, but…

He swallowed nervously as she looked away, exposing a strong, yet delicately shaped neck, a feminine curve of jaw to perfect earlobe and tossed her head imperiously, like a commanding queen. What looked like a river of ink-black hair unfurled like a war banner behind her and settled smoothly down behind her back - although Chún felt the ripple of something she had done with Essence to cause that effect. He raised an eyebrow slightly in interest - was perhaps some of her appearance an Essence technique?

Chún found his eyes drawn to the heartbeat in her throat as she straightened up and looked steadily at him, finding himself fascinated as the perfectly arched, red lips opened slightly with a flash of white teeth and the tip of a pink tongue as that clear, singing voice tumbled from them. He forced himself to focus on the words, part of him realising that he was really out of practice having a casual conversation with someone else.

"...thanks you for the assistance you have already provided in healing me. I am aware that I am in your debt - but I have travelled to find you - the Medical Sage - to help my Father who was injured by the very man who pursued me." The woman stopped for a moment then her jaw firmed and Chún's Essence sense prickled with a sense of danger, "is he…?"

"The Grass madman is dead," Chún responded, wondering what caused that sense of danger to flare. He was suddenly reminded that this was a dangerous individual and pushed his own Essence out protectively against his skin. He needed to get this fox spirit to leave.

He continued smoothly, not showing any of his thoughts in his expression and turned on his heel as he spoke, "but as you have pointed out - I have already killed your enemy and healed you. I see no reason why I should add to your debt. Be thankful that I merely require you to leave in repayment."

Something that felt like an iron manacle clamped down on his arm - he could feel the pressure against his bones - despite the body tempering his constant exposure to Essence had created, that had remade his body into an Essence Treasure; shock and fear held him rigid.

For a moment he was only a boy of thirteen summers with a powerful Cultivator holding him fast, then his eyes dropped to the deceptively tiny and delicate hand holding onto his arm and the disjoint between the strength he felt and the fragility of what he saw replaced fear with amazement.

His shock was enough to let his control on the link with his locus lapse; Tai's presence came surging back to the forefront of his thoughts, "Calmly, calmly, my friend. Look at her face before you act rashly," encouraged Tai's voice.

Even as she began speaking rapidly in short, gasping sentences, Chún looked over his shoulder at the girl that clung to him in desperation. Those were the right words he realised, looking at her as she stared straight ahead without registering his gaze, her face pale and those expressive eyes wide with some terrifying vision. The clutch on his arm was suddenly obvious as fear rather than anger and that singing voice was harsh with terror and desperation, discordant notes splintering through the previously melodious sound.

He winced as she mentioned being an orphan and her determination to save her family even at the cost of her own life; he had lost count of the number of times that he had wished he could have traded his life for that of his own mother rather than be left alone as an orphan himself.

Looking down and the deceptively delicate figure that still held him with an unbreakable grip he found himself reconsidering; if he had someone who was so powerful at his side rather than trying to manage everything on his own - and trained to be a leader, not just a peasant stumbling along - maybe Tai's idea was not so foolish.

"More powerful than you realise," interjected Tai, "she very nearly killed her attacker on her own despite being several years his junior and female - normally female Consumers are weaker than their male counterparts."

Tai paused before continuing to 'speak' persuasively, "She is obviously a genius and almost certainly has found her own Cultivation Dao rather than relying on a set of Consumer Cultivation Techniques - which would explain how she is so much stronger than most Consumers at her age. I would very much like to know how she achieved that."

"And as you say," his locus' tone turned cajoling again, "not only would she be someone good to have as a business partner with many skills you lack, she is also close to your age and therefore could become someone who could be a real friend."

There was an undertone of compassion reflected in the link as the Hidden Mountain kept laying out additional positive issues to consider, "Both of you have been burdened with great responsibilities - both of you need to have someone who actually understands the problems the other faces."

The final point was made almost shyly, "I am your friend - as all the Guardians may come to be in time. Yet we cannot be more than that. Your life is destined to be lonely for many years unless you find a Dao Partner. She is beautiful, strong - and most unusually among strong Consumers, she still has her heart and the ability to care about others above her own power or survival."

Tai's presence in the link became muted and the rest of its words were wondering, "The Land remembers - and judging from beauties of the past - she has the potential to grow into one of the most beautiful and powerful women to have ever lived on Golden Crow. You are unlikely to meet a better chance in thousands of years. Side by side you would grow to greater heights than if you went your separate ways."

"How can I trust her," asked Chún quietly into the link, "she has other concerns and responsibilities. If I help her now or trust her with our secrets later, she could betray us. That is what usually happens."

Even as he waited for his locus' response he turned his head to look at the woman still holding his arm in an unbreakable grip, watching as she swallowed and then lifted his eyes to search her wild gaze.

"You would trade your life for theirs, then?" Chún asked quizzically, watching her expression as she appeared to pale further, but she nodded in agreement and closed her eyes, "Yes," the beauty agreed faintly, "If it would take my life to help them, I will give it up willingly."

"Her death is of no use to us," pointed out his locus matter-of-factly, "but if she swore to protect us and keep any secrets we reveal… that would be worth doing as she asks," the Mountain trailed off but Chún could feel its anticipation and eagerness.

"She may always resent me if I force her to service," he worried into the link and his locus rumbled agreement, before offering an alternative, "perhaps, offer the option to her - then go and do as she asks - before she decides? If she says no, we have lost nothing except a few easily replaced medicines - if she chooses to make an oath, then… we finally have an ally."

Chún frowned internally, but kept the expression from showing on his face as he chose his next words carefully, "and if I did not want your death, but rather yourself, would you give yourself to me, willingly?" He watched her expression carefully, even letting some Essence spill out so as to pick up the slightest reaction.

Something flickered in her eyes and her body seemed to crumple every so slightly inward on itself. Even the light shining beneath her skin seemed to dim. It was over in less than a breath, but as she stepped back a single pace, releasing his arm, Chún felt a distinct sensation of sadness. She straightened up and held herself proudly and again Chún felt that whispered sense of danger as she replied, "if you were worthy of me? Yes."

In his mind, Tai laughed, "the girl thinks you mean to force her to your bed," and Chún fought to keep his eyes from widening, as he evaluated her reaction in that light. He wondered how many in her position would dare contest such an offer and fought an appreciative smile at how very awesome she appeared, her dazzling beauty overshadowed by the danger of an unsheathed blade.

Chún wondered if it had been something she had learnt and if she could teach him - rather than relying on pure power to make statements. Tai was right, he decided - she would be a strong friend - he hoped he could convince her to be one. He found himself wondering at the change - that he was now hoping to convince her to stay, even as he asked, "You set conditions?"

Chún held his breath and he found his heart beating uncountably faster as the young woman's eyes narrowed, a flicker of confusion and sudden hope showing in them. He found himself fighting not to swallow or betray his sudden attraction as her chin raised upward towards him like a pointing sword, and that sense of danger sharpened further as she spoke, "would you value something given away in desperation? Or do you doubt your own worth to me?"

Chún found himself grinning, "You do have a good point. If you just said yes, I would hardly think it worth my effort - but it was not your body I spoke of. I am asking you to willingly hold my secrets and guard them. An oath to the Heavens and the Dao on your blood, your soul and your… Cultivation… all in secret from any other. That, Heiress of Sect and Clan, that is something worth trading for."

The young Consumer's eyes widened, the planes of her face suddenly shifting into something implacable and deadly, without moving a muscle. She appeared ready to either run or attack him, but Chún held up a placating hand even as his Essence Sense screamed at him, "before you decide, let us go and help your family - as payment for your consideration, shall we say - then I can be sure that your choice is your own. I wish for an ally, not a scorpion."

He peered at her shocked expression before chuckling inwardly at the complete befuddlement he sensed from her and turned around again, beginning to stride down the mountain as he threw the last words over his shoulder, "I understand time is of the essence?"