Clear Sky

by Patrick G. Laplante

  Sitting at the desk, he took out his fire element brush and one of his unpainted pearls. Just as he reached out to dip the brush in ink, he wondered just what kind of talisman brush the white brush was. He had used talisman brushes for long enough to tell that it was indeed one, but in his limited experience, talisman brushes were split up into different elements. While you could use an off-element brush to make talismans, the results would be substandard and prone to failure. Using opposing elements could directly reduce a brush to ashes and cause backlash to the user. Cha Ming’s face was lit up with a thoughtful expression. What if this brush could paint multiple elements? After all, the brush was adorned with the five elements and was covered in elemental runic patterns.

  Picking up the white brush, he moved to the wood-element pot of ink—that was safest. Wood-element talismans would rarely cause explosions if something went wrong. After a moment of hesitation, he lowered the brush into the pot of ink.

  So far so good, he thought, recalling the first time he had suffered backlash from a brush. The pot of ink had exploded, coating his robes bright crimson and causing them to disintegrate.

  Suppressing this thought in his mind, he drew the ink into his brush. A whole portion of ink was absorbed into the bristles, after which the tip glowed emerald green. On the white brush, runes representing wood glowed softly. This surprised Cha Ming. His experience was shallow after all, and he had never seen a brush have this sort of reaction to ink. Finally, he drew the low-grade emerald healing inscription on a blank pearl. Success! The glow faded from the brush as soon as the inscription was painted.

  Next, he decided to try the Frost Mist inscription. After all, allied elements were fairly compatible. Once again, the brush lit up with a frosty-blue hue, which faded away once the inscription was complete. Before long he had cycled through the silver, quake, and blaze inscriptions. A five-element brush! Not having done a lot of research, he wasn’t sure exactly how rare a five-element brush was. He assumed it was just as rare as people having all five-element combinations. After all, why make a brush for five elements when you could make five specialized ones at a hundredth of the cost? He then realized that he had painted five inscriptions in five tries. Five third-grade talismans. He frowned. His success rate for grade-three talismans used to be 33%. Was it just a coincidence that he had just had a 100% success rate, or was it due to his breakthrough in cultivation?

  Cha Ming loved puzzles. He could spend entire days solving puzzles without pausing to sleep. He was extremely dirty and disheveled after his week-long practice, but he didn’t care. All that mattered was solving this mystery!

  After a full day passed, he had inscribed all forty-eight remaining pearls in the rosary with a single element. He had done this with ninety-percent success! Eventually, his curiosity got the best of him and he exchanged some of his third-grade talismans for twenty portions of fourth-grade talisman ink—he didn’t have enough time to try more. The result was that he could make fourth-grade talismans with a fifty-percent success rate! At this point he had only expected to be able to make second-grade talismans with a ninety-percent success rate, and third-level talismans with a fifty percent success rate. With the help of the brush, his talisman-crafting rate had become a whole level higher!

  While he was extremely elated with his good fortune, he once again started to ponder. The Clear Sky Brush was a very useful five-element brush. If it was possible for it to contain all five elements, was it possible for soul pearls to do the same? After all, soul pearls did not have a specific elemental alignment. In addition, while the bloody rosary was cracked due to external damage, the pearls themselves seemed to be a much higher quality than the lowest-quality pearls in the store. What would he care if he lost a few pearls while experimenting with such a cheap set? He only needed a set of sixty to execute the first manifestation of the technique, and the remaining pearls were just for backup or in case he was able to master a second manifestation of some other elements.

  After making his decision, he carefully picked up a frosty-blue pearl from the rosary on his wrist. He chose a higher-quality pearl that was free of cracks and chips. If he chose a broken pearl to experiment with, he would never be able to tell. The pearl no longer had an inscription pattern, as the pattern had previously melted into the pearl once the refinement was successful.

  After soaking the brush in green ink, he carefully applied the leafy inscription pattern onto the frosty-blue pearl. The process was a lot more taxing than the original inscription, and while he didn’t make a mistake, the process took twice as long as usual.

  As he completed the last stroke of the emerald healing inscription, the pearl let out a soft glow of acceptance as the rune soaked into the pearl. The pearl had now taken on a teal hue. Success! He then tested the pearl against the dummy and against himself. The pearl now required two kinds of qi to utilize, but the healing effect of the pearl had doubled. The frost effect remained the same.

  Building off his previous success, he added a fire inscription to the pearl. The pearl took four times as long to inscribe as the originals, and it required three types of qi to activate. The healing function was still twice as powerful, and the blaze and frost functions were the same power as they had been originally.

  Cha Ming frowned. The rewards were not worth the effort. Two-element pearls were worthwhile to refine, but the three-element pearls were a bit of a waste. Nevertheless, he continued to experiment to determine the limits of soul pearls. After all, his cultivation technique was a five-element technique, and he did not feel disadvantaged in the least.

  By now the pearl had transformed into an olive-colored pearl. With the addition of a fourth inscription, the color lightened by one level. Only one last inscription was missing. Four elements seemed to be the limits of the pearl, as this pearl had cracked under the pressure after the last one. The inscription had also taken eight times as much time as the original.

  Cha Ming hesitated as he pondered whether to continue his experiment. If the pearl exploded after adding the fifth inscription, he could get injured by the resulting blast. However, he had an inkling that drawing the fifth inscription would give him a pleasant surprise. Steeling his resolve, he began painting the final one—the metallic rune. This inscription took him eighteen times as long as the original inscription. As he finished his last stroke, the pearl pulsated as though it was about to release an explosion. Cha Ming quickly ducked for cover, awaiting the inevitable burst of power and shrapnel.

  The explosion never came. After the time it took for an incense stick to burn, he finally crawled out from behind the worn-out practice dummy. He carefully approached the pearl on the desk, eagerly anticipating the result of fusing all five elements into a single vessel.

  The first change he noticed was that, despite having been inscribed with five runes, the pearl was now a misty white color, which gleamed with the alternating colors of the five elements. The color reminded him of the white circle that connected his five qi pools. The pearl was neither hot nor cold, nor was it heavy. When he reached out with his spiritual sense, the pearl floated swiftly in whichever pattern he chose. He no longer needed all five elements to activate it, and it was perfectly capable of accommodating qi from any of the five elements.

  With but a thought, the pearl quickly alternated between a frosty blue, an emerald green, a crimson red, an earthy yellow, and a silvery metallic color. He also tested its effect on the practice dummy and determined that the pearl had the same effects as any one of the originally refined pearls. Basically, this soul pearl could give him full versatility! He once again plucked the pearl out of the air and examined it closely. To his surprise, the original damage that had been dealt to the pearl due to stacking inscriptions had now completely disappeared.

  Inspired by his sudden windfall, he continued to inscribe an additional four elements on each and every pearl. After a few days, he was rewarded with a misty white rosary, unblemished by the original damage that had been dealt to it. A full
set of 1081 pearls at this grade would be worth well over fifty thousand spirit stones. In addition, it gave him full versatility in his techniques and could support his Soul Pearl manifestation technique through the second, third, and fourth transformations. In addition, the technique scrolls he had read stated that high-grade pearls could have their original runes removed and replaced with more adequate runes as time went on. Effectively, this was a treasure that could grow with him throughout the whole qi condensation realm.

  Having finished refining the bloody rosary, Cha Ming was overwhelmed with fatigue. He had trained for two straight weeks, and it was time to shower and have a proper meal with his friends before they left for Green Leaf Forest the next morning.

  * * *

  1 The number 108 is considered a sacred number in Dharmic religions, such as Hinduism, Buddhism, and Jainism. It shows up in a lot of contexts, ranging from the number of bell tolls or the number of saints or gurus in a particular line of belief. Most Buddhist prayer beads contain 108 beads. Variants are also seen as 1,080, 108,000, and 1,008, etc. There are various numerological explanations, and the one used in this novel is to do with the fact that all numbers add up as nine, which is a homonym for long-lasting in Chinese, and factors into 9 x 12.

  Chapter 18: The Burning House

  The sounds of shattering ice resounded as Cha Ming walked over a frozen puddle. This frozen puddle was surrounded by many others, forming the outline of deep tracks along a clay road. The crackling sound was a rare occurrence, an occurrence that could only happen in early spring or late fall, when the days were rainy, and the nights were frigid, leaving only the largest puddles unfrozen. He missed that pleasant sound, a sound he had heard on many mornings in what now seemed to be a dream.

  He realized that this was in fact a dream, yet he took great pleasure in this childhood vice. He would walk left and right down the frozen clay road, leaving no puddle unbroken as he made his way to a house at the end of the road. He suddenly fell into a choking fit as thick gray smoke floated in the frigid spring air.

  A scorching wind blew across his face before he even had time to question the presence of the smoke. He had seen this situation many times before, in this very same dream. As he focused his burning eyes, he quickly made out a burning house only tens of feet away from him. The house was in the early stages of burning. Only a few flames flickered out of the thick cloud of smoke, which was the result of incomplete burning. Eventually the fire would burn hot enough, quickly consuming the lone house in a blistering inferno.

  The temperature had not yet reached its critical point, and the house could still be approached. He broke into a run, and the burning in his lungs disappeared with the rush of adrenaline that accompanied his instinctive reaction.

  After a few short breaths, he arrived at the front door of the small, lonely house. He quickly touched the back of the doorknob with the back of his hand. While the doorknob was very warm, it was cool enough to confirm that the door could be opened without provoking a violent burst of flames. After quickly wrapping his hand in his long-sleeved garment, he slowly opened the door, allowing the pressure between the hot and cold air to equalize.

  A sharp whistling sounded through the small crack in the door as the air-deprived flame took in a breath of fresh air. He only had a few minutes at best before he succumbed to the ash-filled, oxygen-deprived air. It was dark out, but he quickly made his way around the many rooms in the house. He was very familiar with the house; he knew that he could find his way around with his eyes closed if he had to. He used this familiarity to his advantage as he used up precious seconds, eventually making his way up a narrow flight of carpeted stairs.

  The smoke was thickest on the second floor of the house, forcing him to reassess the amount of time he had left before he had to make his escape. He could spend at most thirty breaths before he would begin to lose consciousness. The smoke was so thick that he didn’t dare breathe.

  Amidst the sounds of crackling and roaring flames, he could barely make out two sets of sounds. To his left, he heard a dog barking, probably trying to exit the burning room it was trapped in. To his right came the wailing sounds of a screaming child. Knowing that every second was precious, he quickly moved to his right. The narrow hallway led him to a small bedroom. This bedroom was occupied by a wailing three-year-old boy.

  Twenty breaths remained. As he moved to grab the child from his fenced-off bed, he realized that the child’s leg was caught. Refusing to panic, he moved his hands around the leg, quickly maneuvering it out from the gap in the bed’s fence. Finally, he grabbed the kicking and screaming child, holding it close to his body as he felt his way out of the small room and back to the staircase.

  As he scrambled down the staircase, he could still hear the whining sounds of the trapped dog. Unfortunately, he couldn’t take a chance. He only had ten breaths remaining, and he was likely to pass out while taking a detour to the other bedroom. Risking his own life was fine; unfortunately, he now had the responsibility of saving the child in his arms.

  A tear ran down his cheek as he struggled to carry the screaming child out of the smoking house. A shrill scream sounded out as he collapsed on the ground, a clear sign that the friendly dog was now burning alive in the intense fire. He had made his choice, and this was the price he had to pay.

  Cha Ming woke up in a cold sweat, remembering that it was all just that same, familiar dream. In this dream, he had a choice: save the child or the dog. The choice was simple, but the inability to save both still caused him intense sadness. If it was just the dog, he would have risked his life to save it. Dog was man’s best friend, after all; many firefighters had died in similar situations.

  There had been many schools of thought on morality over the ages. Many religions had focused on virtue, encouraging their followers to show kindness and mercy while shunning all evil. Many free thinkers had emphasized freedom of choice; whatever people wanted to do was right and whatever they didn’t want to do was wrong. Of course, this argument had taken away the very meaning of right and wrong. In the end, people did whatever they felt they should, and the discussion of good and evil stayed forever fresh in the minds of scholars and priests alike.

  A common question had often been posed to non-violent schools of thought: If a child and a dog were both drowning, and you could only save one of them, which one would you save? The question was usually asked as a strawman argument, and any questions about the specifics of the situation were used to condemn very caring individuals. Fortunately, fate was rarely so cruel; in most cases, it was possible to save both the child and the dog.

  These thoughts had been troubling Cha Ming lately; after all, they were about to enter the forest to gather herbs. Inevitably, they would attract magical beasts that lived in the forest. These beasts were known to attack everyone who intruded on their territory. Unfortunately, that was the history of human development. As people tried to gather resources to improve their lives, they would encroach upon the pristine wilderness. Once the nearby wilderness was occupied, they would eventually turn on the neighbors, invading nearby kingdoms with a variety of excuses. Thus was the cycle of human nature, and the inevitable consequence of mankind’s desire to improve and pursue happiness.

  Their small group met for an early breakfast. The cooks were not up yet, but the baker had been working for several hours, filling the dining hall with the pleasant smell of fresh bread. Everyone had packed everything they needed for their trip over the past few days, so they enjoyed the opportunity to nibble away at the pieces of fresh fruit that were always available for the students. Fresh fruit was a luxury they would not be able to enjoy for the next two weeks, as the frosty weather had frozen the last of the apples and berries over a month ago.

  “The winter in the southern Song Kingdom is known throughout the entire continent for its beauty,” said Wang Jun, twirling a leaf in his hands as their group slowly made their way to the entrance to the woods. “You might not know this, but it’s nearly impo
ssible to find leaves like these outsides of Green Leaf City.”

  “You’re just making all of this up,” said Hong Xin, running her hand through her long black hair. While her tone of voice made it sound like she wanted Wang Jun to stop, her dark eyes sparkled, encouraging him to continue.

  “It’s true. How could I ever lie to a pretty young lady like you!” Wang Jun suddenly let out a gasp as he caught a falling leaf, sheltering it gently in his hands as if protecting it from the rest of the group. Eventually, curiosity got the best of the girls, and soon enough they were begging Wang Jun to see the leaf in his hands. Finally, he gave in and opened up his hands just wide enough for them to see.

  “You see, there is a ranking in Gold Leaf City that evaluates every major scenery on the continent. Winter in Green Leaf City is ranked seventh, just behind the legendary Fire Mountains in Huo Shan1 Country. The mountains there are constantly spewing out red-hot molten magma, which forms rivers that are very pleasing to the eyes. Due to popular demand, they even built bridges that cross these burning streams. Regrettably, only cultivators above the eighth level of qi condensation can venture on these bridges due to the intense heat.

  “What makes the winter here so beautiful is the rare occurrence of these five-colored leaves. The leaves stay alive all year round, maintaining their green pigment. They do this despite gaining their red, gold, and brown colorings. When it gets cold enough, they are coated with a light frost that gives them their fifth color. It’s a pity that the country’s governor is short-sighted and has refused to invest in the infrastructure required to make Green Leaf City a first-tier tourist destination.”