Chapter 7 - Choosing a Saber Art

Shaking her head at the absurdity of the moment, Ao Wen looked around her inner space with a sense of wonder. Immortal Empress or not, the fact that she broke through the gate meant she truly had become a cultivator! Alchemist, singer, warrior, none of that mattered at the moment. What mattered is that she'd done it. She'd needed help to be sure, but given how unusual her awakening was, perhaps it wouldn't have been possible without that help to begin with.

Putting aside the matter of choosing a Saber art for a moment, she poked her head into the room labeled 'Alchemy." The room itself contained very little that could be used beyond a wall lined with scrolls. Opposite the wall of scrolls, a series of neatly labeled boxes looked ready to store all manner of ingredients but the boxes themselves were empty. Similarly, a furnace was prepared and the three color flames burned there gently but there was no cauldron to concoct in, no scales to weigh or measure ingredients, no vials to store refined elixirs or jade containers for pills. It was a room in which she could learn and practice and there was knowledge here, but there were no tools or treasures.

"I probably couldn't take anything out of here even if there was something," she mused. "Feng Xi said that the things here are constructs of the heart, mind, body and soul, but none of them are real. If it were as easy as shoving things into my inner world, who would need spacial treasures?"

The room labeled "Song" was even more bare, but as bare as it was, it called out to her more than Alchemy did. Row upon row of scrolls containing music almost clamored for her attention. As she neared one scroll she could almost hear a soft lilting voice accompanying an erhu in gentle song, the words themselves indistinct and just out of reach. "I might not be able to take these out but I bet I could write them down for Feng Xi. She could play the zither while I sing… how great would that be?" Sighing, she withdrew from the room. "Later. For now, I should take her advice and find a saber art to practice. I'm sure everyone is waiting for me to wake up."

In the room labeled 'Saber', Ao Wen's gaze moved from scroll to scroll, looking over the names for dozens of saber arts. On the opposite wall, phantom weapons glowed dimly as though they were the memories of once treasured blades. Ring sabers, twin sabers, great sabers… so many different forms of something she'd thought of as being a single thing.

Looking back at the scrolls containing saber arts, she began to seriously consider what she should take away from this place to protect herself. Time seemed distant but already she felt like she'd been in her inner world for hours on end.

"Blood Tiger Twin Sabers," she read aloud. "A saber art that turns the spilled blood of enemies into your own strength, empowering each strike with a portion of the enemies strength added to your own. Successive strikes become more powerful until no enemies stand before you." What kind of person had created this art? Had it been her in a previous life? Had she used it or was it just something picked up along the way?

"Five Elements Ring Saber," she said, moving to the next scroll. "Binds each element to a single ring of the ring saber, providing a focus for elemental manipulation along with heavy blows from the saber. Earth for crushing weight, fire for blazing intensity, water for fluid movement, wind for dashing speed, wood for endless endurance. Two of the elements suit me, but could I learn to use the others?"

"Falling Star Broad Saber," she read the next one with a grin. "A blazing saber wreathed in fire that strikes like a star falling from the heavens. Flashing strikes to overwhelm anything in its path, leaving only scorched earth behind. What an intimidating art," she whispered, feeling heat rising from the scroll itself.

"Obsidian Night Scorpion Long Saber," she looked at the last one on the row and frowned. "It calls for a saber at least one hundred and fifty centimeters in length! I'm only one hundred and sixty four centimeters tall! How would I manage something like this?" Ao Wen said, looking at the detailed description of the art. "Nine forms of an unassailable Warlord, striking brutally from hardened defenses. There's a whole section on training the body to fight with earthen energy as armor plates. How would a Scorpion art work with an Earth Dragon bloodline? Are claws like pincers? A tail like a stinger? Does it even work like that?" she wondered, picking up the bundled scroll to read further.

Suddenly, the world spun rapidly, followed by the sensation of sinking in loose sand as darkness overwhelmed her. Moments later, she felt herself being shaken awake.

"Biyu, wake up," a young girl's voice called. "Teacher Xie said we have to be ready by first light. Come on!"

Ao Wen blinked at the young dark skinned girl as she bounded away with enthusiasm, grabbing a satchel stuffed to the breaking point with personal belongings and a long wooden practice sword before dashing out of a dimly illuminated tent. Looking around, Ao Wen found herself in a completely foreign environment. It wasn't part of her inner world, but it was nothing like her home town either.

The tent was large and circular with neatly organized carpets and a pair of beds that sat atop a pedestal full of drawers. A sattle sat at the west end of the bed she woke on and the bed that she assumed belonged to the other girl as well. Through the hole in the center of the ceiling, she could see fading stars in unfamiliar constellations, the faintest glimmer of daylight beginning to lighten the sky.

"Is this a memory or something real?" Ao Wen wondered. "Does it matter? I guess I'll find out eventually." Shaking off the bigger questions, she dressed quickly before grabbing a similarly packed satchel and following after the girl who had darted out earlier.

Outside the tent she'd woken in, a dozen other similar tents had been pitched in an organized camp on a rocky plateau. Horses munched at the contents of their feed bags on one side of the camp while the tantalizing aroma of stewing meat and campfire bread wafted over from elsewhere. The young girl from her tent and three young men had already gathered in an area fifty meters outside of camp, standing firmly in low horse stances before the disapproving gaze of an older man. Rushing over to the group, Ao Wen imitated the others, adopting a similar stance and waiting in silence. Moments later, three other youths rushed over, one more young man and two girls a few years younger than Ao Wen herself.

The man standing before them cut an imposing figure even though he stood barely taller than most of his students. His slender body appeared carved from cords of steel rather than flesh and bone. Sun-baked skin stretched taut over sinew, almost seeming ready to split over the rock hard muscles beneath. More leather than man, not an ounce of fat could be found anywhere on him.

His sharply angled face looked like it had been chiseled from granite with fine tools. Sunken cheeks and piercing eyes sat below a tall brow that had frozen in a permanent scowl. Though not classically handsome, a raw intensity shone in those flinty eyes that could captivate as easily as his glare could wither.

He kept his steel gray hair shorn close to the scalp, almost to the point of baldness. What little stubble remained never seemed to grow beyond a day's growth, even during long weeks training in the wilderness. The students speculated that his hair itself feared drawing out his displeasure through untidiness.

The aura of coiled menace surrounding him remained palpable as a fist. It echoed in the predatory grace with which he moved and the cutting precision of his words. Even while relaxing, intensity roiled just below the surface, waiting to be unleashed. More than a man, he was a saber given human form, hardened and sharpened by decades of warfare into a weapon without match.

"This morning, half of you were late," the older man said with a scowl. "Since you do not value receiving instruction at this time early in the morning before the sun has baked your flesh like bricks, we shall postpone training until the sun has reached a suitable height."

"Yes Teacher Xie," everyone said in rough unison.

"At least you remember courtesy," Teacher Xie said. "Take up your wooden sabers, left knee bent, right toes barely touching the ground in line with your left heel. Sabers at middle guard, right arm fully extended, blades parallel to the ground!" As he spoke, Ao Wen moved quickly into position along with the others. The pose felt both new and familiar, as though she'd done it before thousands of times even though today was the first time she'd ever held the unfamiliar practice saber.

"Excellent," Teacher Xie said with a faint and unfriendly smile. "Blades parallel to the ground, almost all of your weight on the left leg. Stay like that, in exactly that position, until I come back with a fresh cup of tea."

"Oh, can you bring me a cup when you come back?" one of the young man said as Teacher Xie turned to walk away.

"Jun Ben, since you want a cup, you can have one," Teacher Xie said, surprising everyone. "We have a shortage of camp tables, accompany me back to camp, you can serve as my table until I've finished my tea," he said in a voice like flint. "Does anyone else want a cup? We're also short of camp chairs," he finished with a glare at the assembled students. "I thought not," he said, gesturing for the unfortunate young man to follow him back to camp.

Ao Wen gulped but managed to prevent herself from making movements other than looking straight ahead and holding the posture that she'd been commanded to hold. Standing still and holding something in a precise position, fortunately, wasn't completely foreign to Ao Wen. She'd often worked as her father's assistant, holding a tool or guide in place precisely for him as he did delicate work. Still, she was sure this wouldn't be as easy.

By the point that enough time had passed to boil a kettle of water, her arms had begun to tremble from holding the posture. The wooden saber might not weigh much, but fully extended away from her body, it felt like the tip weighed as much as a full sack of rice!

When enough time had passed for the tea to have been steeped three times, her left knee had begun to throb as though it wanted to tear itself apart. The muscles in her calf and thigh trembled and her shoulders ached from holding the saber in place. To her right, she could see the blades of her fellow latecomers had begun to dip, tips starting to point towards the ground. Sweat had begun to roll down everyone's brows, stinging their eyes but no one dared give voice to complaint.

On the ground, long shadows had begun to form below them as the first true rays of sunlight began to pierce forward from the horizon. Only then did they hear the soft footsteps of Teacher Xie approaching them to give new instructions, trailed by a humbled looking Jun Ben who fell into line with the other students looking sheepish.

"This posture is only acceptable for moments of transition," Teacher Xie said. "It's useful for keeping enemies at a distance while you regain your footing," he said. "This is your moment of transition. Whatever skills you gained with the blade before today, those are the skills of a child, learned in idle moments. After today, you learn the skills of a warrior!" Teacher Xie shouted. "Right foot forward, feet shoulder width apart, balance on the balls of both feet. Arms relaxed, saber tips pointed to the heavens," he continued, allowing the students to adopt a more comfortable stance. "Your journey starts with a single step. This step. On my command, push with the left, step forward with the right. One step only. Step!"