Fates Parallel Chapter 329 - Projection (Patreon)

Within her domain, it was possible for Yoshika to focus her awareness into her new avatar while quietly meditating with her other bodies. She found it difficult to put the experience into words. It was as though she had a third body that was subtly different from Jia and Eui.

Jia and Eui each contributed their own thoughts, feelings, and experiences towards the greater whole that was Yoshika, but the avatar was just...an appendage. She sensed everything it sensed, but it provided no emotional context to those sensations—that had to come from her. It would move on reflex, but they were her reflexes. When it acted ‘on its own’ it was using her subconscious to do it.

It was going to take some getting used to.

Still, she was enjoying having a physical manifestation of her spirit form to walk around in. The temple guardian had been quite shocked when he saw her, but accepted her explanation with grace and led her to Yan Yue’s rooms.

It was convenient that Yan Yue resided in the temple at the peak of the mountain—Yoshika didn’t have to stretch her domain too far to meet with her.

She knocked on the door, but it was mostly a formality since Yue would have sensed her domain.

“Come in, Yoshika. You certainly didn’t waste any time—this may be a new record for the shortest closed door session in—”

Yue cut herself off and did a double take as she noticed Yoshika’s appearance.

“Oh, I see. Well this is new. Okay, I’ll bite—how did you end up fusing your bodies?”

Yoshika chuckled.

“Let me inside first, and I’ll explain everything.”

The two retreated into Yue’s private quarters, where Yue served them tea as Yoshika explained what she’d been up to.

As predicted, Yue was unbearably smug.

“Oho! Now you’re interested in my astral projections? What happened to exposing my soul to the elements? Hmm? What about fates worse than death? I suppose none of that matters if it’s Yoshika doing it.”

Her words were harsh, but she was smirking the entire way through. Yoshika sighed and bowed her head.

“I know, I know. For what it’s worth, I still think the way you use it is too brazen—especially with what we’ve been learning about soul magic. I’m planning to minimize the risks as much as possible by being very selective about how I use it.”

Yue giggled.

“Oh, you know I’m just teasing! I’m delighted that you’re interested in learning more of my magic. I was beginning to feel inadequate when you stopped trying to pry my cultivation secrets out of me.”

Yoshika winced. Even when she was trying to be nice, Yue had a way of cutting with her words.

“Am I really that bad? I thought it was normal to try to learn as much as possible.”

“Oh, it is. Most of us are just more subtle about it. Don’t worry, it’s part of your charm! Here, let’s not waste any time—follow along with me.”

As always, Yue was an expert tutor. The cultivator women of Qin had centuries of experience handing down techniques from mother to daughter through oral tradition, and Yue was a noble lady trained from birth to do just that.

“You see? The core components of your soul stay right where they are, while the aura and some necessary support elements from your body and soul form your astral body. Perfectly safe!”

Yoshika frowned.

“Until someone powerful enough captures, seals, or destroys it, leaving you permanently crippled and catatonic.”

“Ahem, yes, well—try not to let that happen. The astral form is quite hard to detect, even by xiantian experts. At first, you’ll simply be mistaken for a spirit, or the domain of another cultivator. And you’d be surprised how quickly you can get around when you’re not impeded by physicality.”

Yue was far too fond of her technique. She’d even privately admitted to using it recreationally, just to go on little walks as an invisible intangible observer to the world. Yoshika’s best friend had the strangest hobbies.

“I’m not going to be using it for that—and for the last time, neither should you. Thank you, though—I think I understand.”

“Mhm. No doubt you’ll have mastered it by the end of the day, you monster. I take it then we’ll be seeing you around like this more often during your so-called ‘isolation’?”

Yoshika nodded.

“That’s the plan. Once we get permission from the grandmasters I’ll be using our avatar to visit people on the mountain or make trips into town, and leaving it with Eunae while we train so that she can practice her soul magic.”

“I see. Yoshika, may I ask a personal question?”

“Um, yes? Of course.”

She felt a bit nervous as Yue composed her thoughts—what could be so dire that she felt the need to preface her question like that?

“You are still two people, right? I ask because you’ve changed how you refer to yourself, which you normally only do within your soulscape.”

Yoshika blinked—she had? Ancestors, Yue was observant.

“I—I mean, we are. I guess it’s this body, since it’s based on our spirit form.”

“I see. Well, if you say so—I was just curious. Good luck with your training, Yoshika! I’ll be sure to come up and visit when I get the chance, and I’ll try to arrange for others to as well. It might be difficult, since it’s such a restricted area.”

Yoshika bowed.

“Thank you, Yue.”

Yue smiled brightly and returned the bow.

“Anytime!”

—-

Despite Yue’s prediction, it took a few days of experimentation and practice before Yoshika had her own workable version of the technique—which Yue assured her was still absurd. In the meantime, she obtained permission from the grandmasters to use her new avatar to maintain a presence within the sect.

It was a little bit awkward trying to explain what she wanted without going into details about the nature of her new technique, but given how vulnerable it left her, Yoshika was taking extra precautions. It turned out to be unnecessary, since Qin cultivators were already very used to keeping secrets, and Lin Xiulan was quick to remind Yoshika that her isolation was strictly voluntary.

She did at least confirm that they didn’t need to worry about calling a tribulation down on the avatar.

“A valid concern—but no. You would have to completely separate your living souls from your physical bodies, which I am certain you are not doing because successfully completing such a ritual would invoke tribulation, while failure would mean death. As you are both alive and still houtian, you have nothing to worry about.”

That actually sounded like Yoshika had a great deal to worry about, but she accepted Xiulan’s wisdom gratefully and went forward with her plans.

In order to keep herself from exposing her raw soul to the world, Yoshika followed some strict rules. She would not allow herself to project her spirit directly—only through vessels like her new avatar. She would not travel too far away from her real bodies while doing so—while the entire point was to travel beyond the range of her domain, going too far would dramatically increase the risk.

Last, and most importantly—she could not tell anybody the details of her new technique unless she had total trust in them. Yoshika knew that she was terrible at keeping secrets, so she gave herself a strict criteria for establishing trust.

If Eui alone didn’t trust someone enough to perform joint meditation with them, independently of Jia’s input, then Yoshika would not tell them how her new avatar worked.

Eui was not as trusting as Jia, and while she loved her family, that love wasn’t nearly as all-encompassing for her as it was for Jia. Eui’s concern was for Jia first, herself second, her family third, and everyone else at a distant fourth.

After only a minute of meditation, Eui came to her conclusion.

“Two.”

Jia winced. She knew it wasn’t going to be a high number, but two?

“Who?”

“Li Meili and Rika.”

“What? What about Yue? And Meili is cheating!”

Eui shrugged—Jia had promised not to argue, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t ask for an explanation.

“Yue’s our best friend—somehow—but she’s still ultimately self-serving, no matter how much she tries to bend over backwards to make up for her past. She already knows, so it’s a moot point, but if she didn’t then I wouldn’t tell her. Rika is the most trustworthy person we know—period.”

“And Meili?”

“Honestly, I’m already reconsidering her. We need to stop thinking of her as another us. I think we can probably trust her not to betray us, but she’s still got your blabbermouth and her priorities aren’t the same as ours.”

Jia lashed her tail back and forth, pouting. She’d known what she was getting into, leaving the decision entirely up to Eui, but it still hurt.

“What about our family?”

Eui snorted.

“My parents wouldn’t know what to do with cultivation knowledge, and while Jung’s been picking things up from being around us all the time, I think telling her would just put her in danger. And do you really want Narae trying to copy the technique for herself? You know she would.”

Jia grimaced.

“Ancestors, no. Okay, you win. I hate keeping secrets.”

Eui rolled her eyes.

“Could have fooled me.”

“Oh, you—come here!”

Jia pounced on her partner, determined to tickle the sarcasm right out of her.

“Wait—Jia, you're just going to make us both suffer!”

“That’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make!”

“Oh, ancestors—sto—not the claws! Ahahaha!”

It had been a long time, and Eui had gotten arrogant. Once she’d paid proper penance for her hubris, the girls got to work preparing to properly introduce their new avatar to friends and family.

The reactions were mixed. Jung was just happy to see them again in any form, while Narae was excited about Yoshika having a horn—complaining that her own little nubs had hardly grown in the last year.

Rika and Ja Yun were mostly interested in the mechanics of fusing simulacra with homunculi, muttering between themselves about the unfairness of talent. Eunae happily accepted the offer to use the avatar as a practice dummy while Yoshika wasn’t occupying it—though she confessed that seeing her idea in practice made her a bit uncomfortable.

The strangest reaction came from Li Meili. In the privacy of their mansion, the two avatars sat across from each other in a room that had been conspicuously arranged to resemble the layout of their academy dorm—and by extension, the core of their soulscape.

Meili regarded Yoshika’s new form uncomfortably, furrowing her brows.

“Is this...some attempt to replace me?”

Yoshika blinked.

“What?”

“I mean, I guess it makes sense. I’m just a failed experiment that’s caused you endless amounts of trouble—but I thought I at least had some value as your representative.”

“Wait, Meili, slow down. What are you talking about? I thought you wanted to live your own life, independently of me.”

Meili drew her knees up to her chest and hugged herself.

“I don’t really know what I want. That’s definitely what Jiaying wants for me, and I’m trying, but...I don’t know how to explain it. I’m me—Meili—that’s who I am now, and who I will grow to become. But I’m also Yoshika—that’s who I was, and it will never stop being a core part of who and what I am. I don’t want to be me if it means giving up who I am.”

Yoshika squinted.

“That is extremely confusing.”

“You think?! How do you suppose I feel about it? I thought I was fine with putting ‘Yoshika’ behind me, but then you show up with a newly perfected avatar and all I feel is jealousy! Why does being me have to mean I can’t be you? Why does that matter so much to me?!”

Meili wiped the tears from her eyes with a sleeve and shook her head.

“I’m sorry. I’m not making any sense. I don’t think this is working, whatever it is. I keep breaking down like this, and even though Jiaying is super patient with me...I don’t know if I can keep doing this.”

Yoshika pursed her lips and sighed through her nose. It was a complicated problem, and she wasn’t sure what to do. It was clear that her understanding of Li Meili had been flawed, but she didn’t know how to answer those paradoxes.

“I’m not trying to replace or get rid of you, Meili. If being part of me is such an important part of your identity, then I will do whatever I can to support that. I just don’t know how to do that, yet. Can you give me some more time?”

Li Meili nodded meekly.

“Okay. I don’t want to disappear anyway. Jiaying would be heartbroken, and as much as I want to be you...I still kind of like being me. I know that sounds stupid, but...”

Yoshika shook her head as she trailed off.

“Not at all. It’s just...complicated. I think I got in over my head when I made you, but we’ll find a way to make it work, okay? I promise.”

“Okay. Thanks, Yoshika.”

Yoshika tried to give Meili her most comforting smile, but had to suppress her own anxiety. Finding a solution to Li Meili’s crisis had grown much more complicated, and she hoped that she hadn’t just made a promise she couldn’t keep.