Chapter Text
It glimmered in the faint evening light; the sword cut clean with no resistance, but the swing was undisciplined, impatient. It was the third disappointing slash in a row.
“I think we should call it a day,” Yanqing spoke softly.
“Go and get some rest. We’ll meet here tomorrow morning, yeah?” Yunli exhorted.
March sheathed her dual blades and let out a tremendous sigh. For all her immense effort in mastering swordplay, it was clear that her progress wasn’t shaping up to be ready for the Wardance. This fact was taking a toll on her mental state, which only served to worsen the issue. Everyday, she worked with her sensei to refine her skills, and everyday, it seems like she came up short. Frustration led to wild swings; wild swings, even if they hit their target, left an uneasy feeling in the air; her sensei’s attempts to skirt around this unease only reinforced her anxiety that she was falling short of their expectations.
An uncharacteristically somber face emerged as she ventured toward Aurum Alley. Typically, the idea of further exploring Xianzhou cuisine excited her, but tonight, the prospect seemed dismal. March slowly made her way to Du’s Teahouse and let her mind mull over the predicament while allowing her green tea to seep. Her arms permanently felt tense from her training, her passion for photography had been left at the wayside during her difficult work as an apprentice, and her heart was struggling to justify the entire enterprise. She had been entrusted with the duty of representing the Lufou during the Wardance by shogun Huaiyan, and had her sensei’s expectations resting on her continued effort, yet crushing demoralization seemed to negate the importance of those factors.
March stared deeply into her rippling reflection, unaware that a familiar figure had taken position beside her. The first rousing agent was the refined aroma of incense; the second was even more effective:
“Ah, Lady March. I had supposed you only enjoyed Immortal’s Delight, but it’s good to see the youth partake in more traditional drinks.”
“Oh! Miss Lingsha!” March stammered, taken aback by the sudden interruption of her introspection.
“May I have a seat?” Lingsha softly inquired, a bemused smile plastered onto her face.
“Ah, please,” March said with a notable twinge of embarrassment. “Are you also here for tea, Miss Head Alchemist?”
“I had to deliver some medical tea to Mr. Du, but when I saw you sitting alone I figured a little chat couldn’t hurt.”
“Oh, really…” March choked out with no less embarrassment than before. The truth was that she always loved attention, especially attention from pretty women, but with Lingsha… that attention felt almost uncomfortably pleasant. Invariably, an unexpected compliment would make her cheeks nearly as red as Lingsha’s hand; Lingsha’s composed demeanor seemed to pull her in closer, and even the soothing scent of incense couldn’t slow her pounding heart. The cruelty of memory-loss was that March was unsure what this feeling was, having little to nothing from her past to compare to it. Compliments always lifted her mood, so why was it that Lingsha’s dredged such strange feelings up from the depth of her soul?
She hadn’t the time to answer before that sweet voice once again interrupted her thoughts.
“You seem troubled. Is there a way I can ease your worries?”
“I’m not really sure… I’ve just been really stressed I guess,” March murmured, hoping to brush the topic off.
“Is it because of your preparation for the Wardance?”
“Yeah…” March sighed deeply, atypically unable to bury her frustrations with a smile.
“I see. Well, I just so happen to have quite a collection of remedies to help deal with stress back at the Alchemy Commission. Would you care to join me?”
“Ah, well, I wouldn’t want to bother you so late…” March fumbled with noticeably more life in her voice.
“Nonsense. I’m always happy to help a patient, especially such a cute and pretty one like you,” Lingsha stated through a playful smile. “Come, finish up that last bit of tea and I can take you to my practice.” March felt expectant eyes burning against her as she drank the remnants of her tea.
It was difficult to discern if the warm feeling bubbling inside of her was caused by the tea or the sweet presence of Lingsha beside her on the starskiff. While few starskiffs were particularly spacious, March had great difficulty ignoring just how close Lingsha was sitting next to her; sharp turns or gradual stops would cause their shoulders to brush against each other. The complex profile of Lingsha’s incense whipped in the wind as the starskiff came into port.
Lingsha elegantly unboarded before offering a crimson hand to her patient, gracefully guiding her off of the skiff. Leisurely, the two women sauntered towards the heart of the Alchemy Commission where Lingsha’s practice was. Despite the day coming towards a close, the Alchemy Commission was bustling with activity as researchers hurried to shuffle around papers, fetch reports, or see a patient. Bailu could just barely be picked out of the crowd, busy healing a handful of Cloud Knights who had gotten injured in a skirmish with the Disciples of Sanctus Medicus. Lingsha’s efforts to root out the rot within the Commission had forced many Disciples to drastic measures; the number of Commission members implicated seemed to explode daily. Still, things had improved under her careful watch; crucial moles at the top of the chain had been uncovered and the Commission was finally starting to emerge out from its shadowy reputation as a haven for the Abundance.
On a sideroad northwest of the main square stood Lingsha’s practice. As Head Alchemist, she had been given a sizable building to operate within and a well-furnished home on the second and third floors. The salty smell of the sea managed to climb its way atop the steep cliff face and lingered in the shadow the building cast in the last vestiges of evening as twilight began to descend o’er the restless Commission. The faint hush of the waves below drowned out the commotion a few blocks away and brought a sense of tranquility to this side of the Commission; it suddenly made sense to March why mental health treatment offices were on this street, right alongside specialists in Vidyadhara medicine.
As the women approached her practice, March came to notice that Lingsha maintained an impressive garden of herbs and flowers in her front yard. Planters and flower beds lined the street outside her practice, and the ancient looking trees in her yard imbibed the atmosphere with an air of wisdom. The greenery demanded one’s attention and admiration due in no small part to the generally urban environment of the rest of the Commission.
“Did you plant all of these, Miss Lingsha?”
“I did. You may also simply call me Lingsha, if you’d like.”
“Oh! Sure!” March said with slight surprise. She had worked with Lingsha a few times since she joined the Lufou, but the drop of honorifics seemed sudden to her, especially considering the large canyon in status that separated them. March returned her attention to a flower bed near the gate.
“What’s this one!”
“That’s yingshu , though you might know them as poppies.”
March let out a little sound of admiration as she stared deeply into the vibrant swatch of red. The shade seemed to remarkably match the color of Lingsha’s hands as the fragile little flowers swayed hypnotically in the gentle breeze. The deep and vivid red contrasted with soft white flowers that peeked out into the street between the bars of the gate.
“Ooo! What are these!”
“ Choson asagao . Its flowers are beautiful, but its fruit is remarkably poisonous.”
“Huh??? Why would you grow poison???”
“Poisonous plants can make remarkable medicine at just the right dosage. Look at these ones over there, they’re an excellent example.” Lingsha stated calmly.
In an unassuming flower bed beyond the gate, modest white buds were beginning to bloom. March approached the flowers apprehensively, but after a thorough inspection, found little that indicated that these quite ordinary plants were dangerous.
“That’s mandarage . It is bitter and contains powerful neurotoxins, and at just the right dose, you can mix it with the even more potent uzu to create long lasting anesthetics.”
“Really…” March muttered hesitantly, simultaneously impressed and worried by Lingsha’s depth of medical knowledge.
Lingsha gingerly plucked an errant weed out of the flower bed, seemingly too familiar with the poisonous plants to be particularly cautious around them. She then sweetly took March’s hand and started towards her front door.
March had a severe case of gay panic once Lingsha tenderly grasped her hand, so she may be excused for failing to take note of the charming entryway to Lingsha’s residence, with its rustic wooden furnishings and handwoven rug. Photographs lined the right wall, the majority of which either depicted Lingsha smiling beside a wizened old man or sitting alongside Feixiao at an important ceremony. A small side table flush to the left wall housed two exceptionally colorful rocks dredged out from the sea in Lingsha’s youth, diligently kept as mementos during her long journey aboard the Yaoqing. Beside them, fresh poppies were held in a small vase made out of sea glass along with a miniature starskiff in a bottle.
Lingsha delicately slipped her shoes off and left them neatly at the step before entering the practice proper. Outside of the foyer, Lingsha’s practice was a highly traditional building with significant history; tatami mats comprised the floor and paper screens were used to divide the room into a waiting room and examination room, though currently the dividers were neatly put away. An inviting door near the examination table led to Lingsha’s galaxy renowned aromatherapy room. Medical cabinets lined the walls and were filled with neatly organized vials, tonics, salves, ointments, spices, dried herbs, balms, salts, creams, bone meal, glittering scales, gallstones, ox horns, dried seahorse, and shark teeth. Stunning paintings of the underwater landscape dotted the waiting room; an ancient incense burner was displayed on a birch coffee table; a bar on the west wall housed electric kettles, several varieties of tea leaves, and homely mugs sculpted of clay.
To her immediate right after entering the room was a flight of stairs that presumptively led to Lingsha’s personal living space. March looked around the room with a sense of awe. The rafters that buttressed the ceiling had flowers left to dry upon them, giving the impression that one had walked into a tranquil garden rather than a dreary and dreaded hospital. The practice had a residual fragrance of incense and spices that further distanced the practice from the unnervingly sterile clinics that typically came to March’s mind.
Two traditional screen windows allowed patients to peer into the herb garden while they waited to see the Head Alchemist. The countless times children and the elderly alike stood to observe flocks of cycrane flying by was beginning to manifest into a memory bubble in the windowsill. The welcoming atmosphere hastened March’s recovery from her errant thoughts and reorientated her to the ostensible purpose of her visit to the doctor. After taking off her shoes, she bowed and entered the practice.
Lingsha directed March to take a seat on the examination table as she prepared diagnostic tools typically employed for a routine checkup. March began to feel a bit nervous as she idly waited for Lingsha to begin her examination; she began to fidget slightly, her heart rate increased, and her face was becoming noticeably flushed. Thoughts about how close Lingsha would be while examining her only added fuel to the nervous anticipation.
Lingsha began by taking March’s pulse, her hand resting on March’s exposed wrist, and was taken aback by the rapidity.
"One hundred ten beats per minute… significantly above resting average."
March’s face was beginning to glow a vibrant red as Lingsha prepared to take her blood pressure. The tight squeeze of the sleeve produced another unsatisfying result.
“Systolic pressure is above the typical rate. Do you consume inordinate amounts of salt during your day?”
March could only really stammer as Lingsha gingerly removed the sleeve, lightly brushing against her skin.
“I’m going to check to see if your lymph nodes are agitated. Just to make sure these aren’t symptoms from being sick.”
Lingsha’s experienced hands softly ran up and down March’s throat, occasionally working her fingers to feel for swelling. Gradually, March’s beautiful, porcelain skin began to take on the shade of Lingsha’s steady fingers.
“No swelling. That’s good in a way, but it also means that this stress is causing significant strain on your body. If it’s alright, I’d like to give you some aromatherapy.”
Lingsha’s expression was genuine as she looked intently into March’s blue eyes. Her comforting expression pulled at March’s flustered heart, yet it also produced a faint aching feeling rising up from inside her. She was not able to identify it yet, but the amnesiac was experiencing attraction, infatuation, and the burgeoning sprout of adoration. Her destiny as a Nameless, a trailblazer who always marches toward the future, would ensure that those feelings would haunt her. But in these fleeting moments of bliss, those concerns remained hidden.
Lingsha politely extended a hand to assist March off of the table, and continued to intertwine her fingers with March's as she opened the door to the aromatherapy chamber. The chamber was dimly lit, and olfactory delights seemingly clung to the very essence of the room, infused into the very wood of the polished bench leaning against the western wall. The room was designed for relaxation: freshly washed pillows adorned the calming chamber, white lilies hung down from the ceiling, luxurious silk canvassed the wall, casting shadows of crimson, vermilion, onyx, and cinnabar o'er the ornate burner that was situated in the center of the room. In the corners were slim and tall shelves that held various incenses, burners, dried herbs, and an awkward looking glass pipe with a bulbous base.
“Lingsha, what is this weird little guy for?” March inquired, innocently holding the glass object to her eye so she could peer down one of the tubes.
“That’s…” Lingsha giggled before picking her words carefully, “That’s a therapeutic device I’ve been doing experiments with. It burns dama to produce a variety of desirable effects. It was the subject of Walter Benjamin’s research as Genius #46 before his untimely death, and I wish to further his work.”
“Whoa, you’re doing research for the Genius Society?!” March exclaimed.
“Not quite,” Lingsha uttered while stifling a laugh, “my research is independent of the Genius Society. I simply wish to continue his research.”
“What was his research about?” March inquired with excitement.
“Benjamin’s research aimed to better understand the human consciousness through consumption of dama , which can induce a meditative or “enlightened” mental state in certain subjects.”
“Meditative…” March trailed off, the gears of her brain spinning to justify participation in this research. I mean, really, it was mutually beneficial since she wanted to de-stress and Lingsha likely wanted data. Besides, the idea of being useful to Lingsha had a certain draw; the fact that her body could produce something that potentially pleased Lingsha stirred selfishly at the fringe of her consciousness.
“I would caution against your participation in my research, if that’s what you are pondering so intensely.” Lingsha stated seriously.
“Huh?” March exclaimed. “Why not?”
“ Dama can be tricky to dose correctly, and some subjects have unpleasant experiences under its influence. Besides, I imagine that you do not fully understand exactly what you’d be volunteering for.”
March’s wheels began to turn once more; damn biomedical ethics for getting in the way of praise from a beautiful woman! Maybe a white lie would change her mind…
“Well, in my travels I’ve actually had dama before and it was great! I think it’s exactly what I need right now!” March exclaimed with a smile. She had gotten the tone-nemes on the Chinese convincingly incorrect, but was nevertheless confident that this proclamation would soften Lingsha’s stern expression.
“Really?” Lingsha questioned with a reasonable degree of distrust.
“Uh, yeah! More than once in Penacony actually.” March fibbed. To her credit, she had encountered some suspicious substances in the dreamworld, but consumption there lacks physical repercussions back in reality. Still, if she was expecting this mysterious dama to be comparable to a sip of SoulGlad, she would be remarkably mistaken.
“I see…” Lingsha whispered. Her face wore a heavy mask of doubt. The testimony was unfalsifiable in nature and the experiment had real risk of incurring undesirable side-effects, but the opportunity to measure a young human’s response to the drug was tempting. Unprofessional thoughts were also intermixed with her calculus: being able to take care of such a pretty girl while she’s stoned would really be more of an honor than completing Walter Benjamin’s life-work, right? Besides, she was more than qualified to trip sit, being a doctor and all.
The therapy chamber was silent for a moment, and March saw an opportunity to land the finishing blow.
“I’d be honored to participate in your research, hakase ! Please!” she pleaded with all her youthful charm.
“I accept. However, tonight will only be a preliminary test to ascertain your reaction to the drug.” Lingsha spoke with deceptive confidence.