Chương 54: An Unexpected Interaction

Mikael"Join me, Mikael?" Izar gestured to the Go board in front of him.

"I'm terrible at board games."

"Trust me, I'm aware. It's just something to do with our hands while we catch up."

"Let me rephrase. I was having a pleasant morning and I don't wish to ruin it by playing Go. Especially not with someone with better divination arts than most Qi Refiners." Mikael sat down despite his complaints. The canopy of leaves above them was a bright emerald green, the sun bleeding through and dappling the table in bright coins of light.

"I'll take white," offered Izar. Mikael found little consolation in that. When it came to Go, Izar could win blindfolded. First mover's advantage was simply not going to be enough. They arranged their pieces and began to play.

"Your elders," started Izar, "in all their vaunted wisdom, gave you the little princeling of Righteous Mountain." His voice was filled with infinite amusement.

"I heard he's got a mouth on him. Gave your local magistrate a lashing." Mikael scoffed softly and flipped a black stone onto his favorite starting spot. He'd memorized a few openings. His early game was passable - if predictable, according to his master at least.

"How did you of all people learn about that? Did the papers run a story?"

"They might as well have." Izar placed his move onto the board. It was a completely bizarre, nonsensical move, which made Mikael want to give up immediately. The man was clearly plotting twelve steps ahead towards some humiliating endgame Mikael wouldn't see coming. He was already tired.

"Is he talented?" asked Izar.

"He has an A-Grade Qi Sea."

"Too early to tell." Mikael knew Izar had always enjoyed being known as the only disciple in the Kyrr Peninsula with an A-grade Qi Sea.

"Most cases, you can tell right away," said Izar. Mikael shook his head.

"Rowan isn't a heaven-sent genius. But in less than a month he went from struggling to form a Qi Sea to breaking through to the third layer of Qi Condensation."

"Might've taken some pills."

"Maybe. His ancestor gave him a few cultivation resources, apparently." Izar's dark eyes gleamed.

"As ancestors are wont to do."

"What are you fishing for, Izar?" Mikael paused.

"Has Halfmoon House taken an interest in him?"

"He merely impressed our ornery Archbishop, who I don't believe has said a nice word about anyone since the Wellspring Era," Izar drawled.

"I know you're new to this… teaching business. I have all the sympathy for the poor souls in your care, by the way, the heavens - and I - know you're completely hopeless. Thus, my compassionate heart demands that I pass on a warning."

"Say it, Izar." Dark eyes met his own. The toying amusement was gone, replaced with a bright coldness." Leash him." Mikael's stomach dropped.

"What's he done?"

"It isn't what he's done, it's what he will do in the future," said Izar.

"He's arrogant. He's used to bullying magistrates and getting away with it. Control him, now, or he'll be killed horribly by someone like Orion. Or worse, become someone like Orion."

"Rowan is nothing like Orion. And he's no fool, Izar. That's the frustrating thing. He knows who he can push, and how much." Mikael threaded his fingers together under his chin.

"No, the most frustrating thing is that he's correct. Highwater was just one mistake after another. The sect and the Dao Court failed. Lives were needlessly lost, and no one is being held responsible."

"Mikael," said Izar, moving another piece onto the board as he stood up.

"He's going to get killed. And he might get you killed with him." The man left, leaving their game half-finished.

"And this game is completely resignable."

"Does this mean you're giving up?" called out Mikael. He looked down at the board. A small frown slowly formed on his lips. After he calculated a few tentative variations, he realized that it was indeed resignable. For Mikael. Izar usually enjoyed smugly playing out completely winning games. He wasn't the type to show his opponents any grace. Mikael stared at the board longer, now looking for words, numbers, and symbols in Izar's pieces. Nothing. How strange. Perhaps it was in the game's conclusion?

Mikael pictured a handful of possible endgames. Good grief, he was losing even harder than it looked. But he still couldn't see anything resembling a message in Izar's– Mikael let loose a barrage of curses that would have gotten him disowned from House Maulkin. How could he be so bad at Go that Izar had pushed him into writing the message himself? With his own pieces? Mikael stared at his desperately defeated board.

All this time, Izar hadn't been playing an obscure Go strategy, but toying with Mikael to such an extent that Mikael had written the message for him. Something the man felt like he couldn't even speak out loud. A warning. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Monk. It was such a vague warning for the amount of effort Izar put into the game. What monks in the area were relevant? Golden Heart Temple was full of monks.

They were the most proximal, but would Izar consider them a threat? There was a monk coming all the way from the Bone Cradle to deal with the Highwater mess. Halfmoon House had many ties to the various coalitions of exorcists across the entire continent, many of which were monks. Izar could be referencing a monk that Mikael had never heard of. And then, there was his new pupil, with a mysterious rosary - an artifact so well-made that not a single whisper of qi leaked from it. Until that moment. Chanda.

It even echoed in Mikael's memory when he replayed the fight in his mind's eye. Who had given it to Rowan Helsing? A boy in Qi Condensation? But that wasn't the truly concerning part. The concerning part was the gut feeling he had when he looked at the artifact - thought of it. The bone-deep surety that the rosary hadn't chosen him, as Rowan had claimed. It felt like the rosary was Rowan. And it had come alive upon detecting the slightest evidence of demonic cultivation. Monk.

There were even eight black stones surrounding the word, a nod to buddhist symbology. Mikael gnashed his teeth. He couldn't even remember a single moment where he'd played poorly. Rowan Rowan wiped the sweat beading on his forehead with the back of his wrist, crouching down to pull the leafy, dark green weed by the roots. The weed fought for a moment, trying to curl its thorny stems over his fingers, but it had no hope of cutting the skin of a mid-stage Qi Condensation cultivator.

He yanked out the weed and dropped it into the pail beside him. The plant immediately joined the war happening within, siding with its vicious leafy brethren against the poisonous mushrooms that sprayed spores at anything that came near them. After a few days of rest, Mikael had decided that Rowan was healthy enough to return to his daily routine - with the caveat that he would not strain himself. He had decided to use this recovery period to do some gardening.

The back wall of his bedroom led to a private meditation garden. It was small, and held little more than a pond and a few weeds. But Rowan already liked it. The garden reminded him of the courtyard in the manor he'd grown up in. After his father died, their servants dwindled until there was just Rowan, his sick mother, and the loyal old maid that somehow kept everything running. Eventually, the elders had decided the place was too big for just three people, and moved them into a much smaller house.

The manor, though in Rowan's name, had been taken over by a granduncle. He hadn't had a garden since then. Rowan's thoughts halted when he tried to drop another weed in the pail, realizing it was completely full. The weeds were organizing an escape now that most of the mushrooms had been torn to pieces. He needed to empty the pail somewhere. He stood up from his crouch with a wince, his knees creaking ominously.

He hadn't really noticed the strain of that third, unfinished, Earth Dao Mark until he returned to the pavilion. Every movement took extra effort, as if all of his limbs had weights attached to them. Rowan couldn't help but feel worried. Since he'd started practicing Wind From Eight Directions, he had been passively getting faster and faster due to his growing comprehension of Wind. Now he felt as slow as an old man.

Both Mikael and Ostra had noted that, in the long run, this third Dao Mark could be beneficial for his cultivation. But the tournament was happening in ten days. He couldn't afford to be hindered in any way. There was a knock on his door.

"Come in," said Rowan. No one did. Rowan sighed.

"Stop messing around, Lee. I'm about to start cultivating." The door opened. On the other side of it was Lavinia. She wore an exotic flower in her hair that wasn't native to Righteous Mountain. It had large, pearlescent petals - a flower in full bloom - and the edges had been brushed with gold to prevent decay.

"Hello, Rowan. May I come in?" Rowan wasn't sure how to respond. Wasn't it inappropriate for her to be in his room alone to begin with? All thought of that left his mind when he realized that her eyes were watery and red.

"It's okay if you don't have time," she mumbled despondently. She turned to leave.

"What's wrong?" Rowan asked.

"It's nothing serious," said Lavinia.

"Just a fight with my brother." Rowan didn't have a good opinion of Lavinia's brother. He was certain that the man had been reporting to Barrett Fross.

"About what?" Rowan asked.

"About the same stuff as usual," said Lavinia, shaking her head. He raised a brow.

"Isn't it a bit hard to marry into the Fross family now?" He immediately regretted it. Lavinia leaned back as if she'd been struck. He opened his mouth to apologize, but Lavinia straightened herself out.

"Sorry, that was unexpected." She stepped through the doorway.

"I came to thank you." To thank him for killing someone who would have caused no end of trouble for her. It was a little morbid, but he understood.

"There's been a lot of rumors going around," she continued.

"I wanted to ask you about some of them." In all honesty, Rowan had spent very little time since the parade around his sectmates. He didn't know what those rumors were. Lavinia looked down at her feet.

"Was there a… particular … reason you defended my honor?" Rowan paused.

"Fross tried to use his station to ruin your family. We happen to be sectmates. What else is there?" A flash of something like disappointment found Lavinia's eyes.

"I'm going to be honest. The fight with my brother happened because he wanted me to bring you a letter of introduction from my parents." A marriage contract.

"I told him that you wouldn't consider it." She paused. Then, in a smaller voice, "But I was hoping you would." Whatever Rowan had been expecting her to say, it certainly wasn't that. Lavinia was one of the prettier disciples, but he'd never considered her in that light before. At his stunned silence, she quickly corrected herself.

"I don't have strong feelings for you, but marriage is a union between families. It would be a decent match. I know you're a good man - and I wouldn't ever stand in your way. You could take a consort, or concubines. I wouldn't mind." She swallowed, unable to meet his eye.

"My family will be responsible for my marriage," said Rowan, a little hollowly. The only time he'd ever thought about marriage was during the vision from the Bodhi leaf. She nodded.

"I-I tried to tell them," she said.

"Anyway, I'm glad this is settled." Lavinia looked around.

"Do you need some help gardening?" Rowan realized the weeds in his pail had escaped back into the garden. He nodded.