Threads Of Destiny(Eastern Fantasy, Sequel to Forge of Destiny)

"Sir and Lady Ran, this Rixiong is honored to greet you!" Bent parallel to the ground his back and shoulders were straight, his fists clasped together in respect.

Ran Fen's Father did not look at him with the blank faced confusion that the younger nobles did, he was too poised for that, but his forehead was a little crinkled. Then again the older man was a little off from his own expectations too. Ran Fan's father had shoulders like an oxen and was a head taller than even Rixiong, and had a very fine and well groomed beard. He definitely had the look of a reliable man!

He had just wondered at Ran Fen's own appearance, until he had spied her Mother, who looked rather more like her slightly older sister.

"This Lord is pleased to meet one who has been a reliable ally and friend," the big man said slowly. Rixiong did feel sweat spring up on his neck, under that scrutiny. "I am very proud of my daughter's accomplishments in this last year."

Ran Fen squirmed a little behind, it was imperceptible to one who did not know her well, but she was quite embarrassed. He did not know why! Achieving the third realm, even if only just in a single year at the Sect was quite an accomplishment. The tutoring from the old elder in the trial he had helped her find had been very valuable.

"Miss Ran has been of exceptional help, this son of the Empire arrived in ignorance, and it was only her kind tutelage which taught me many vital skills, the aid I have given is only fair recompense."

He could feel her mother scrutinizing him too, standing back, behind her daughter, the fan in her hand as much a weapon as the sword at her fathers belt. Ran Fen's mother had painfully sharp eyes!

He just barely caught the static of qi in the air that passed between them, and saw the crease of her father's brow lighten.

"Well, let it be said that the Ran do not refuse goodwill, fairly given. Come let this lord treat you to a feast, afore the two of you go off to compete."

"They were concerned I was interested in what?" Rixiong asked, horrified in the empty hall leading to the arena hours later.

"I know," Ran Fen agreed, nose scrunched up in consternation.

"...No offense, Ran Fen, but you are much too short."

"And you are not half pretty enough," she sniffed, waving her fan before her face. "But let us forget that foolishness."

CRASH!

"Ghhh!"

His spear shook, the vibration nearly tearing it from his hands as the sword held up between his opponent's hand visibly bowed, metal screeching with strain.

He met Cao Yun's eyes, and lowered his head in acknowledgement. "You have grown very strong," he acknowledged.

"Hmph, d-do not patronize me… Rixiong. I will not yield while I can stand, this time."

"I will see you in the Inner Sect. Next year," Rixiong replied, solemnly.

His foot lashed out and he felt the other boy's ribs crack with the impact.

The opening melee and the first and second round had gone quickly. Rixiong understood how far a step up the third realm of cultivation was, or thought he had, but he had still not quite been prepared for how easily he could now sweep aside lessers in cultivation.

Now, in the semifinals he again stood in the arena across from a familiar face. This time though, he was not expecting anything so easy.

"Of course I would end up matched with you here," Ran Fen sighed, resting her cheek in her hand. "Well a fifty-fifty chance, given that there are four of us in the third realm here."

"Just the way chance lands," Rixiong said as the arena shimmered, replacing clean white tile with rolling, scrub choked stony hills. No advantage for either of them then, he supposed. "I will not go easy, just between the two of us."

One on one. Zhengyi could await the finals, he would not make Ran Fen fight the two of us alone."

"Confident, but you always are," Ran Fen laughed, a second fan slid from her sleeve, as she took a wide stance, unfurling the both of them with a snap. "Let us see if I can make you regret it for once."

"Hah, please do!" Rixiong laughed, foot sliding out in front, spear raised, the tip gleaming. He would use the trump cards he had cultivated if she pushed him enough, even if she would call him a fool for doing so.

The match began in a flash. His spearhead blazed with the molten light of the noonday sun, thrust forward with a crack of thunder from parting air, blazing rays trailing in its wake.

And met the force of a screaming windfunnel, spun into existence by the dance of twin fans. Deflected, the ripping wind seeking to seize his weapon, he let himself be pulled, flung from the other side of the tunnel, feet digging plumes of dust in the earth coming and going as he accelerated back towards Ran Fen, who was carried backward from him upon a rapidly growing root erupting from the ground, fans twisted, snapped fluttered, summoning winds in every direction, to trap him in a maze he had had seen hurl opponents helplessly too and fro like a child's kite in a storm.

His chest rose as he filled his lungs and roared.

The ursine bellow shattered the wind, shattered the earth, shattered the root she was growing to escape upon, ruffling her gown and forcing her to raise her fans in whirling defense to disrupt the waves of qi enhanced sound before it could fully reach her.

And it was long enough for him to be upon her. The white hot speartip erupted in light as it darted past her guard, cutting a thin line across her cheek as she twitched her head to the side, but still leaving his friend dazzled, he whirled with the motion as the root under his feet exploded into aromatic pink petals, already dragging purifying qi up through his lungs against the toxic cloud and whirled his spear for a finishing blow…

Only to jerk backwards as he spotted her domain weapon. Innocuous, almost invisible, a pale needle of lavender wood, exuding a toxic qi, and shrouded in armor cleaving winds. He inhaled sharply as it shimmered and looked to split and split and split again, one becoming a dozen, even his eyes could not read the real position…

And on his forehead, the yellow jewel woven into his headband flared, and a burning sun disc erupted behind his head, casting his face in shadow and searing the impure toxins and illusions from the very air. His domain weapon, a shard, won dearly from the Tower where he had met Zhengyi, a blazing star upon his shadowed brow.

His spear whirled, ran fen danced on the winds and between flower petals, but in the end, she fell.

He had come to the finals in his best, the Sect had been understanding to a degree. He had been allowed a dedication and a prayer to the Zenith before all the worthies of the empire to cap off this grand ceremony for his own self. His finest armor, his cloak billowing in the breeze, bracers of gold, beads carven with righteous prayers and dedications woven into his hair, just as Mother did.

Most of it was now scattered across the scouring sands of the final arena, his chest bare and slick with sweat, his hair ragged and wild, even the haft of his spear cracked.

Zhengyi stood at his side, shield and fist raised, her brass skin scored and scratched, rents in the bronze freeing flickering wisps of flame

Fan Yu was strong.

"You are resilient," the older boy said. Fan Yu was battered too, a whole chunk of his breastplate and one sleeve torn off, the hair seared off half of his scalp, cuts and bruises littered across his skin, a trickle of blood ran down from one ear where Rixiong's roar had caught him. "But you're on last legs."

Around his legs, his spirit beast curled, the malevolent looking lizard's horned frill rattling as it half curled its sinuous body around his legs, red brown scales scorched and broken in places. Its stubby spadelike claws dug into the sand ready to resume swimming through earth like water. Rixiong winced as it hissed at him, feeling the burn across his chest where its caustic blood had eaten through his flesh remained.

What kind of animal fired lances of its own blood from its eyes?

"Ah, I might be on my own. By the Sun you were not so strong when we first met."

Fan Yu pondered this, his own spear on his shoulder. "Sometimes, you need to stop making things complicated, and just…. Stop losing."

Rixiong snorted, his own half concussed words from that mission coming back to him. "I do not think you should live by advice like that."

"It's not complete, no. We lose. Everyone loses. That's life," Fan Yu shrugged. "It's only final when you stop struggling."

Rixiong inclined his head, a glance sent to Zhengyi…

"And you're not done, you've got another card. Come on then. Show it you ridiculous bastard," Fan Yu snorted. "I know better than to think you common talents can be underestimated."

Rixiong paused, and bowed his head. "I do. I meant no insult, but…. This hurts. Quite a lot! But neither… do I want to lose!"

He dropped his spear. Zhengyi material form evaporated into a cloud of hyperhot, gaseous metal and burning sunfire….and slammed into him

This time Rixiong's roar held a metallic screech and a crackle of flames. He felt every vein under his skin bulge, his muscles bulging with the surge of qi erupting, his skin aflame.

He erupted from the cloud, skin clad in bronze and brass, twice as broad and half again as tall, he felt the flame in his stomach in his lungs, it boiled from his mouth and nostrils both along with his bellow as he launched himself at Fan Yu and his beast. His arms, all four of them, rippling with metallic muscle were outstretched hands, open fingers curled like claws as he brought down one for a swipe…

And detonated the sand dune Fan Yu had been standing on, splitting the earth beneath for ten meters in either direction.

"Hells! What is this damned nonsense! Father needs to give me access to the proper archives after this!" Fan Yu bellowed, bounding back down like a meteor, the wide blade of his spear swinging down, carving into the palm raised to block it, releasing a trickle of boiling blood.

Rixiong laughed, swept his hand out, palm meeting Fan Yu… and holding at bay the strength of a cultivator a full stage above him as their locked grips trembled. "I wish you fortune with that!"

Fan Yu's response was a headbutt that flattened his nose with a skull rattling crack even through the sheath of Zhengyi's bronze. His own fist battered into the boy's ribs, and it was like striking the hide of a mountain. Fan Yu's knee rose, and beat into his stomach with enough force to crater the ground beneath them from the impact.

Rixiong laughed. This was the most fun he had gotten to have all year!

In the end, it was his victory. Staggering on the very edge of consciousness, Fan Yu fell, he fell.

But Rixiong staggered back to his feet, molten bronze melting from his painfully scored skin, and raised a fist in victory