The ship-woman’s gray eyes widened.
Senior, I interrupted. Please allow me to introduce my master, Vessa Soulship. The one you mistook for my sister-disciple is her Beacon, Nova. Vessa, and Nova, I added, since Vessa’s awareness was currently spreading to Nova, judging by my friend’s gradually widening eyes. This is the Senior currently residing in my soul, who has chosen the name Mara for herself. She is the dragon responsible for wounding and delaying the bloodbeast until our arrival. Despite her request that I refer to her as Senior myself, I still couldn’t bring myself to think of Elder Mara with such informality. However, I knew I had to use it in speech, especially when introducing her, or she would give me an earful the very first chance she got.
You are all supposed to be dead, the dragon said as she continued to stare at Vessa. We watched your ship-bodies burn in the night sky. We thought we had failed every last one of you. That we had doomed the night sky with our inadequate strength. That if we had fought for you all just a little harder, died just a little more willingly, things would have been different.
Fought for us? Vessa asked, confused. No one was supposed to fight for us except for our crews. And even then, only because they refused to flee.
We know, Elder Mara said, her dragon form still trembling. You drove away my kind and his, she said, pointing awkwardly at me as spiritual tears leaked from her eyes. Time after time, you forced us not to follow you. We did our best to disobey from a distance. To guard your shadows whenever you failed to look behind yourselves. And when the end came, we fought and died to prevent you all from burning. When the war ended, we could not find a single survivor among the debris, save for a handful of our own lives.
We fled, Vessa whispered, both with her mind and her mouth. We hadn’t even known you were there. We just thought some miracle had happened, that let a handful of us escape.
Are there more? Elder Mara asked desperately. Any others? Do you need me to go to them? I mean, she turned her attention back to me, looking helpless, then back to Vessa. Do you need us to go to them? I can plead with the young rider, have him take me there...
I do not know, Vessa said sadly. As far as I can tell, I am the last of my kind. But why did you call Jasper a young rider?
He is of Earth, Elder Mara replied. Did you not know? His kind used to ride my own into battle. We fought to keep the night sky clear and safe in your wake, handling the handful of terrors that managed to escape a vessel-saint’s justice.
But Earth is a Sourceless world, Vessa corrected, sounding lost. Their people were historians, record-keepers...
Sages, Elder Mara corrected. The men and women of Earth were sages. Those who acted, because they knew what must be done. The pacts they made dimmed the Source of their entire world, and made time pass much more slowly on that world than other places. They counted it a small price to pay for guarding knowledge, and then acting on it. This young one is a descendant of those sages that took up the heaviest and holiest of mantles, the knights that sought to guard and anchor the vessel-saints whenever your people needed it. And if I dare guess, this one has chosen to take up that same mantle, to protect and anchor you, young vessel-saint, in your time of greatest need. All while being even more ignorant of his people’s history than you were, if you will forgive me for saying so, young Vessel-Saint.
I... Vessa began to say, then looked up at me, gray eyes watering. “Jasper... I...”
She trailed off. Elder Mara turned her attention to me.
Young rider, she began. I am grateful you have shared such a discovery with me, but I must beg you to amend my Sourcevow. The salvation of my entire race, the pain echoing through our genetic memory, dictates that I must serve and protect the injured woman lying on that bed. If I do not do such a thing, my grandchildren will be cursed along with the rest of my race. I must restore my people’s honor, and put to rest all the ghosts rattling and haunting the caverns with in our consciousness. Please, let me aid this young woman, so that my grandchildren will be born with whole minds. Please—
You are distraught over this discovery, I interrupted. Else you would remember that I have already asked you to aid my master in every way possible, just as you would aid me.
I—yes, she corrected herself. Yes, you are correct. All... all is well then. I had never dared believe it could be possible... but all is well. Thank you, young rider. Thank you.
You are welcome, I answered, looking down at Vessa myself. Her eyes watered, and the young woman seemed awash in memory right now, trying to recover days long gone in her mind. You say she is young?
She has seen more than a hundred thousand sunrises, young rider, Elder Mara replied. But by her people’s standards, she is now barely within age of adulthood, where her people would begin courtship. The dragon paused in reflection, before she began speaking again. I mourn that she will have no mate among her own kind, and that no other male from another race would ever dare to court her instead.
What do you mean? I asked, confused.
I mean that her people were of such majestic beauty and might that they were aloof from all others, despite their benevolence and magnanimity. Not even the men of my own race, the dragons that flew in the vessel-saints’ wake, would dare to do anything more than offer this young woman their platonic adoration and respect. My own husband, and my own son-in-law, would have died for this young woman easily and immediately, but would never even consider taking her hand in courtship themselves. In fact, they have both gone so far as to contemplate whether such romance would even be possible, and every time decided that if it was, that they would pity that poor mortal for the rest of their days.
I... see... I said slowly, when in fact I did not.
But enough of such impossible matters, Elder Mara continued. She is here, and she is alive, and that will do for now. Protect her with your everything, young rider, and the night sky will explode with an outpouring of light, justice, and wealth, and you will be the first to receive all of such things. She will help you gain a hundred times over every single thing I have already offered you. Continue protecting her, young rider, and I swear by my Source and my Strength that it will be worth it.
Her part-soul shuddered as she spoke, struggling to bring an impossibly open-ended Sourcevow into existence.
“Um, Jasper?” Vessa finally spoke up. “I think I need time to process... everything. Can you thank your friend for introducing herself, and then maybe you and Nova could get to work on lunch? I’ll do what I can to help you from here.”
“That’s fine, Vessa,” I said as I walked over to the oven conveniently and inexplicably built inside her sanctuary. “I’ll just need some help figuring out how to use it and cook.”
“It actually does most of the work itself,” Vessa assured me. “You just have to put the meat inside it, and inject a bit of Source energy. It won’t taste like anything cooked in a gourmet restaurant, but I don’t think anyone here would care at this point.”
She was right. My childhood had left me with an unrefined palate, and Nova seemed desperate to taste something different from our smoothie pouches. I walked over to the large, square terminal and began injecting Source energy into it.
“While he’s doing that, Nova,” Vessa began from her bed, “would you mind running back down to the planet below? My scans are showing that the natives are gathering around the remains of the dead bloodbeast. I think they’re waiting for you to return and tell them what they’re allowed to harvest, and what you are going to expect as tribute.”
Nova’s blonde head tilted in confusion.
“How do you know that they’re—” she began, but her other body cut her off.
“Check your new memories. Especially the parties.”
“I can,” she began, closing her eyes. “But I don’t see how—oh. Oh wow. They really do get that grateful. Now I see why I’m going instead of Jasper.”
“Because of the fact that many of them were saved by you, and that you did so with a pair of glowing white
wings?” I asked, not sure where the confusion was. Nova paused before answering.
“Sure,” she lied. “Yes. Let’s go with that explanation.”
Caution warred with my curiosity, and caution won.
“Great,” I said, deciding, that I was better off not knowing exactly whatever it was those tribal chieftains were going to offer to me that they were not going to offer to Nova. “I’ll just keep cooking then.”
“Perfect,” Nova announced in relief. “Vessa, how much stuff should I accept from them?”
“Don’t accept anything weird, no matter how often they offer,” Vessa confirmed, to Nova’s obvious relief. “But take as much of everything else as you can get away with, without looking greedy. Actually, forget that. We are greedy right now. Take everything they offer that you know for a fact they will survive without. Make as many trips as you need.”
Her Beacon nodded, and then vanished as Vessa pushed another button on her console.
“Phew,” Vessa sighed in relief. “I’m glad she works so well.”
“What do you mean?” I asked carefully, injecting a bit more Source energy into the ship-woman’s magical oven, and privately hoping she would tell me if I was somehow burning our lunch.
I can actually help you with that, dear, Elder Mara spoke from inside my Soulscape. Here, this is how you make the heat a little more even...
As I followed her instructions, Vessa carefully answered me.
“Beacons aren’t normally able to crew their own Soulships,” the ship-woman explained to me. “They usually just remain on their birthworld, so that they can help us monitor them, and to serve as navigation points for our long-distance jumps. At most, they can travel to the worlds next to their own, but even then, that’s difficult. Lunei can do even less than that, which is part of the reason I was so careful about having you avoid her. Not that it worked, that blasted Beacon,” she added darkly. “Made the rest of me look like some uncontrolled hussy...”
“What?” I asked, completely caught off guard by that statement.
WHAT? Elder Mara echoed me in my mind, before following up: A bit less mana, dear, or you’ll burn our dinner.
“Nothing,” Vessa said hurriedly. “Talking nonsense to myself again. Tired. Hungry. Are those steaks finally done?”
“Of course not,” I stammered, barely able to follow her subject change. Wait, are they done yet? I asked the other woman in my Soulscape, the one who actually knew what she was doing when it came to cooking, despite being a dragon.
No, dear. You’re fine. And you need to pretend we didn’t hear what she just muttered. Otherwise she’ll never forgive you.
Fine, I told her, deciding to change the subject myself. “Vessa, Senior Mara is a tri-practitioner herself, despite being a Sourcebeast, and has offered me advice regarding my substages. Do you have any objections?”
“None at all,” Vessa replied. “From what I’ve seen, she’s been guiding you along the same road I would have had you go down. She shows all signs of wanting you to walk down the exact same path you have already set out for yourself. Since I won’t be able to follow you out on missions, I’d prefer it if you were to listen to her guidance. Why?” she asked, narrowing her eyes for a moment. “Is she also trying to give you direction for cooking?”
“She is in fact trying to give me directions for cooking,” I confirmed with a nod.
“Excellent,” Vessa replied. “Dragons never bother with a skill unless they wish to completely master it. Anything she shows interest in is something you should get her to teach you.”
“Marvelous,” I answered. “I’ll see what I can get her to share with me right now.”
Smart boy, the elderly dragon said in my mind. Now go ahead and open the oven right now, and inject your Source energy into the middle of each steak.
While I continued to cook, Nova would teleport back and forth from the world we just visited, bringing gifts that the tribes of that world had offered to the ones who had saved them all from certain genocide. Most of the presents were items we would use either as trade goods or as ingredients to further improve Vessa directly, but a few were tools we could actually use, such as a handful of essence pills, or a brace of small knives I could hide in my Soulscape. But the tribes were not particularly wealthy, so the greatest gift they had provided was the act of harvesting as much as the blood-bear as we could ask for, separating the meat, bones, and organs, and packaging it all in a way that would preserve the materials for a long time.
But I observed all of this with my peripheral vision only, because while I was cooking, Elder Mara was instructing me on stabilizing my new substages.
Alright, dear, you’ve already taken the slow, careful route to power, so we’ll go ahead and do what most young ones never have the patience for, and give you as broad a foundation as possible. This is an excellent time to take a look at your qi drops.
As I fiddled with dials and Source energy, I concentrated on the three purposeless drops flowing methodically through my qi stream. The dragon studied them as she spoke.
Now most young ones only bother with two or three arts, and focus all of their drops into mastering just those, she continued explaining. Which is one of the faster paths to power, but a waste, if you ask me. There’s only so much mastery you can gain over any one art at this stage, so it’s much better to spread them out now, so that you take more long-term power with you when you finally do Advance. The good news is that cooking is an excellent way to practice many arts, because it broadens your instinct for a plethora of other skills.
Really? I asked, injecting more qi into the oven to comply with the dragon-woman’s earlier instructions. I had figured it counted as an art itself.
Oh, it does, dear, Elder Mara explained. But the thing about most arts is that they overlap, and cooking is a perfect example. A true chef is very careful with the use of flame, and understands the precise amount of what to use. He must also understand what the earth produces, and how to prepare and harvest it in such a way as to make the best use of it for consumption. Finally, he must understand that he should clean both himself and his meals with water—and yes, darling, you took care of that last one, don’t panic—and that water at a certain temperature will help him cook certain meals.
So you are saying my first art should be the art of cooking? I asked as I opened the oven door to inject more mana into its interior. I was beginning to see Vessa’s emergency oven as increasingly less magical, and increasingly awkward to use, despite her touting its ease of use to me mere minutes ago.
No, dear, Elder Mara admonished patiently. We’re going to use the arts that cooking incorporates. Specifically, the art of fire, the art of earth, and the art of water. Remember that qi arts are more contemplative than essence instincts and less studious than mana’s sciences. Your goal right now is to understand the foundational arts, so that you can build off of them as you Advance. The more you grasp now, the more specialized you can choose to be in the future, although you’ll be perfectly fine if you just choose to focus on the basics instead.
I see, I said in consideration, before continuing to follow my senior’s instructions in stabilizing my qi substages.
I first observed how fire was so useful in providing change. The light and heat it provided could either warm, guide, or harm those near it. It was a component of many discoveries, the salvation of communities, and the favored tool for many who wished to harm or destroy. It was passion, discovery, warmth, intimacy, rage, and, when brought under the most intense of applications, discipline. Fire was either the most intensely controlled of tools or the most unchecked of destructive forces. As I comprehended such mysteries, the second drop in my qi slowly gained a burning red color.
Earth was the next element Elder Mara instructed me to observe. She first pointed out that virtually every type of solid matter in existence was related to what we comprehended as earth. Earth was solid, down to its last particle, because even clouds of dust formed touchable piles when
they were no longer tossed about by the wind. The reason my own world was named Earth was because we chose to give our world a name that reflected the very material we walked on, used for buildings, and excavated to see what was buried inside of it. Earth protected. Earth obstructed. Earth held secrets we could uncover and use for our benefit. And, when improperly disturbed, Earth crushed, causing long-term devastation on a scale even fire had trouble matching. Like fire, earth took discipline. But even more so than fire, earth took patience. There was plenty to do with earth, plenty to understand about it, if one was willing to invest the time. Houses were not built overnight, and gemstones were rarely gained by just bending down and picking them up. But if one invested enough time, they could craft structures that would last for ages, or uncover wealth great enough to benefit their families for generations. Upon pondering such matters, the third drop of condensed qi within my soul took on a solid, dark-brown color.
The final element I invested comprehension into—for now, at any rate—was water. Water was incredibly hard to define. It was as formless as fire, yet as consistent as earth, for it always existed, even if its shape changed for a variety of reasons. I could grasp it as ice or snow, but not as liquid or mist. This was arguably true about every type of matter, but water has served many cultures as the best example of the three states of matter. It could preserve, like earth, when cold enough. It could warm or burn, like fire, when hot enough. And in its most famous state, it could nourish, clean or drown. It was constantly, and directly, involved in the process of life itself, as living beings were constantly holding a certain amount of water inside of themselves. But if any of a person’s water leaked to the wrong place—even if that place was just another part of their body—then that person would sicken or die, unless the leak was stopped in a short amount of time. In short, I realized, water was best defined by its relationship with anyone currently interacting with it, whether they were cleaning with it, cooking with it, drinking it, or struggling not to drown inside of it.
My final condensed drop of qi gained a deep, sparkling blue color, just as Nova came back with the last of the supplies and Elder Mara told me to remove the steaks from Vessa’s magical-but-inconveniently-slow oven.
Soul Shelter (Soulship Book 2) Page 15