A Peasant’s Guide to Sorcerery: 2

A Peasant’s Guide to Sorcerery: 2

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Commissioned by Ichypa

Wordcount: 2500

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Ying went through her training forms with speed and efficiency born from a lifetime of training. Ever since she was found by her master, and judged to have talent, she trained from the moment she could hold a sword and every moment of it invigorated her.

Her master had complained about her ability to focus and lose herself in training with good nature, telling her that it typically took a lifetime to find one’s true calling… before assigning her more forms to learn and practice with the next breath.

Ying took all that she could, mustering every ounce of knowledge she could gain regarding the blade, and cultivated her mind, body, and spirit for the sake of pursuing the advanced techniques that her master promised to teach her once she was ready.

After her near-death and healing, as she trained standing atop single blades of grass and cut through falling snowflakes, Ying could only frown as she finished her training routine in its entirety… before the sun had even reached its zenith.

The last time she went through all twelve forms perfectly and to her liking, she’d begun at dawn and ended at sunset.

She felt just as tired as she did after that moment. Sweat dripped from her brow into the headband she fashioned, while the peasants’ wear she wore was laden with sweat. A deep heat radiated from her body and steam rose from her form, while her muscles ached with her exertion to complete the ritual. The amount of strain she experienced was the same, yet she had completed her task over eight times faster than she did last.

Ying’s mind was filled with innumerable questions, but she had to force herself to turn around and look upon the only being who could provide answers to her current state.

Zhang sat on a carpet he’d unfolded from the carriage that he rode. Upon the carpet was a stove the burned with a bright, golden flame bereft of any visible source of fuel. Atop that stove lay a gently swirling ball of water with tea leaves swimming within from which a stream issued for towards Zhang’s cup, as he happily supped upon tea and rice cakes while waiting for Ying to finish.

Ying had witnessed his ability to reform flesh with a touch, seen him casually manipulate the elements around him with utter ease, and she was sure he controlled the horses that carried the carriage through mystical means, as during their entire trip towards town he’d not touched their reins once. His casual usage of arcane secrets in plain view made her shudder, but after recovering from her shock the previous day, she had another reason to be terrified: despite his showcasing of all his power and might… her senses told her that she merely looked upon a peasant.

A peasant with white hair and clad in purple robes with an eerie smile, but a peasant nonetheless.

Despite all that he has shown her and all that he has done, to the senses she’d sharpened against danger and other individuals who reached for immortality… he slipped through completely and utterly.

Just his talents and strengths alone was cause for unease, but the fact that he could hide himself perfectly amongst the masses disconcerted her.

Why did he hide his power and strength?

What did he stand to gain from being hidden?

How did he wish to use his sorcery, if he invested so much time towards not being found?

Ying had to remind herself that Zhang saved her life, and that she didn’t have any cause to question him or interrogate him for his actions. Though whispers in the back of her mind told her that she shouldn’t trust someone who hid themselves from the eyes of the world so thoroughly, she steeled herself with the righteous knowledge that she must treat the one who saved her with the respect and dignity that he deserved… even if he just smiled and didn’t know what to do with what she offered.

“Lord Zhang, I am finished with my training. Thank you for your patience. Everything is functioning properly and I will not suffer from any deviation.” Ying knelt before Zhang. Any other with power such as him would’ve bid her to leave his presence after her training, as she was covered in sweat from exertion, but his response was too quick for her to refuse. The moment she knelt subtle magics were already forming around her. “Please, there’s no need to—

A gentle and firm breeze flew over her form and all the dirt and sweat from her exertions left her body and clothing both. The simple training wear she had rid itself of stains and sweat, while an invigorating and thorough mist engulfed her and filled her vision, as other magics came upon her entire form. She felt her clothes change and shift, and when her vision became clear and the world could look upon her again, she wore her traveling clothes from the Beggar’s Sect, undamaged and fresh, while she felt freshly bathed and refreshed.

A sigh left Ying’s lips as she stood up.

“—No need to use your magic simply to clean and dress me. There is a river nearby and my first set of clothes are in the wagon.” Zhang had cleaned those as well. The hidden sorcerer had been caring for her thoroughly since she had awakened like a doting, professional servant with the ability to sunder cities, beat back death, and reforge bodies into those closest to reaching immortality. Ying could only frown at her host, who simply kept smiling and sipping tea upon the carpet that he sat upon. “Lord Zhang, I told you that you must comport yourself with more dignity. None with your power ought to be using it for cleaning and caring for aspirants such as myself!”

Ying steadied herself after those words and tried to prepare herself fro what was to come.

However, once again, Zhang’s reply to her was honest, brutal, and without reproach.

“But it’s nice to be clean instead of dirty, right? My father always told me to bathe after I’m dirty and I’ve always felt better doing that!” Zhang spoke in nigh-irrefutable absolutes that cleaved through Ying’s every attempt to educate him. All the advice she wished for him to head, regarding his status and position with his power alone, was refuted by him steadfastly citing his personal experience, his father’s advice, or his ancestor’s statements. To argue against his words was to argue not just a sorcerer of immense power, but also that sorcerer’s father and ancestors. Ying could only sigh and yield to the point as Zhang brightly smiled at her. “Besides, I want to be a good and proper host for an aspirant, so I’m taking the best care of you, Lady Ying!”

Ying had heard those words before from village mayors, landlords, and merchants. They all sought to gain her favor and the Beggar Sect’s for their own purposes, so she treated them with courtesy and nothing more. Many people who offered her their homes for a place to sleep at night, who treated them with care, also did so with the wish to be protected and thought of fondly by the Beggar’s Sect, with some wishing their children join the Sect. Ying looked upon those individuals with more care, but still kept her distance.

After many years of journeying, Ying was sure that the platitudes and compliments of many were empty and self-serving, thus she was always able to reply with a genial mask to carry on without issue.

But all she saw from Zhang was an earnest wish to be kind and hospitable, as well as the desire to know her better.

In the face of that simple, true affection, even as her more sensible side told her to press the issues of propriety and expectations upon Zhang, Ying had to look aside and take a moment to recompose herself.  He reminded her of the few bright moments in her childhood, before she became chosen to be an apprentice, and the Beggar’s Sect simply provided her with a family and friends.  She never expected to experience someone caring for her and wishing to be her friend again, just as she’d been plucked from the streets by a kindly aspirant amongst the Beggar Sect.

Ying struggled with her emotions. Not speaking until she felt calm and without a smidgen of heat upon her face, the swordwielder chose to acquiesce the matter of Zhang’s lack of knowledge of how he should be treated and how he ought to treat others, until later.

“I see, then… let us just have lunch then. Thank you for your hospitality, Lord Zhang.”

“Ah, I’m happy to help, Lady Ying! Let’s eat well!”

“Lets.”

Ying nodded with those words, as a meal assembled itself from pots and fish brought from the river in bubbles of water towards the carpet. Rice boiled in spheres of water surrounded by rings of fire. Vegetables were sliced in the air below bowls. Fish were cleaned of their innards after being killed without noticing their imminent demise, and were soon roasting above golden flames.

Ying did her best to ingrained all that she saw in her mind, and to not relax, but soon enough she found herself simply chatting and eating with the man who saved her.

…

Banditry flourished between cities.

Long ago, when true dynasts ruled over the land, the roads were policed and people could travel freely between cities and territories. However, to Ying, those were just stories and she knew only trails and roads where thieves and bandits waited for prey. Many sects offered protection to merchants, whether large or small, to keep their wares safe from the thugs and murderers that waited in the wilderness for profit. Beyond the walls of the cities and boundaries of towns and villages, the rule of law crumbled away and strength dictated everything, unless the ruling sect of the territory thought to bring the bandits low.

Thus, Ying placed a hand on her sword when the wagon stopped and Zhang looked up to find a gathering of twelve upon the road.

Ying prepared herself for battle, to fight against the threat before her, and slay them but she froze as Zhang spoke.

“Oh, bandits! I’ll get rid of them.” The words were bereft of malice and Zhang still smiled as he spoke, but with a clap of his hands the forest around the dirt trail they travelled went silent and the wind went still. The horses, who went still, relaxed at the sound, while Ying’s every instinct honed from battle told her to stay completely and utterly frozen as Zhang waved at the gathered individuals. “Hello there… and goodbye!”

The man at the forefront of the bandits was a mountain of a man rippling with muscle and exuding an intense, primal power. Ying, before her reawakening, would’ve taken him on with great care as he felt as though he knew martial arts and the usage of Qi.  Though he was no inner disciple, he was most certainly an aspirant of immortality, and that was reason enough for her to be careful with her blade as he hefted a large axe over his shoulder with the ease one would usually have with a stick.

That man, the leader of the group who intended to threaten and steal from Zhang, died as he opened his mouth to yell his demands.

And, the death was not peaceful.

The dirt at his feet went from still to a frenzied, flaying movement. Faster than the man could react, he was surrounded by pebbles that broke down into cragged chips, and surrounded him. Ying found herself unable to blink, as she saw tens of thousands of tiny stones get shaped into weapons in an instant… and then converge upon a man, pressing into his skin, and then begin to spin, burrow, and travel across the man’s body.

She witnessed the bandit turn from a man, to fray, standing and bleeding, muscle, to soft guts and gore, and into blood bone within the span of seconds. Blood gushed from the attack in every direction, splattering the dirt road and the flensing flurry of tens of thousands of tiny stones around a standing skeleton.

When the skeleton began to fall, before the other men and women amongst the banditry could understand what happened, the stones at their feet rose as well. Those with the fastest senses, those who realized what happened to their leader, managed to open their mouths to scream before their skins were punctured by buzzing, blending, and jagged stones that turned them into ground flesh from the outside in.

Chocked, bloody gurgles from a few mouths resounded, while the others simply died to the horrific attack.

Ying’s lunch threatened to leave her stomach, after witnessing a dozen people turned into mulch into an instant, until Zhang spoke jauntily beside her.

“Well, then, time to put them to use!” With a simple declaration, Zhang clapped again, and the weapons he’d used joined together into larger stones, which began crushing and breaking down bone into the meaty pulp of what used to wrap them. Ying could only watch in morbid fascination as what used to make up people became mixed into soil, which floated off to the nearest trees and burrowed itself amidst their roots. “The trees aren’t crops, but I’m sure that it’s fine. The bandits will be giving anyone traveling here shade instead of hurting them!”

Ying was desperately trying to process the earnest and genuine words from Zhang when her instincts called to her and her sword flashed out.

“Ooh, amazing!”

Zhang clapped as she sent the knife flying their way high, and she took that moment of amazement to speak to him.

“Leave this one to me, Lord Zhang!”

“Oh, okay! Go ahead, Lady Ying!”

Ying’s eyes locked onto the foe who launched the attack. She had spoken the moment she felt the strength behind it, and she drew her gaze towards the attacker.

A trembling young woman with scarlet hair, shivering, and with eyes filled with terror stood on a road where her fellows were mere heartbeats ago.

Ying was sure that she saved the thief’s life by stopping Zhang, but as she disembarked, she wondered what she would do next.

Could she even convince her host, who didn’t see bandits as human, to spare the foe she now faced?