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

[yrsillar]

My High Lady, you have no doubt been bombarded by theories, requests and entreaties to intervene in the south. In this, my most respected sibling, I must counsel you to ignore such hotheaded calls. The war against the usurper emperor drags on and there is no call to divert forces to the savages in the south, who had hardly involved themselves even before this matter became clear. The lands of Tsu are not worth your attention. There is some concern that this disappearance is a plot of some kind by the Weilu to achieve dominance while all the rest of the Empire lays embroiled in war. Speaking as the former ambassador to the courts of Xiangmen, I can say with confidence that this is absurd in three points.

Firstly, there is the matter of the Weilu character. More than any other people of the Empire, the Weilu and their descendants are a soft and indolent race. Ask a so called noble of their kind to wield a spear, and they would but whine that they preferred the brush. Whatever martial valour inherited from their ancestors they may have once claimed, it was far gone even two centuries ago during my term. As Ambassador to their lands, I was naturally compelled to join their rituals at times. Even more mundane rituals and festivities often involved the use of substances which opened the mind to Liminal spirits and acts of decadent gluttony which I shall not recount here. Hedonism ruled their courts, and it shames me to say that even some among my entourage were seduced by this decadent style. No, these are not people who would seek to rule the Empire, they could hardly be bothered to rule even their own land. This arrives at my second point.

The structure of the Emerald Seas governance is madness, and this cannot be wholly blamed upon later day rulership. They eschew sensible and durable hierarchy, and allow their subordinates to rise and fall without rhyme or reason, squabbling freely and without discipline. While I gather that this loose system was once something more akin to our own, wherein the true blood descendants of Tsu competed for various titles and lands in order to prevent any one family from becoming complacent, it is clear that their inferior methods have become corrupted. I have observed quite frequently, otherwise potent scions of the bloodline having to be coerced into taking up positions of responsibility! The highest aspiration among them seems to have been to simply rise higher in the competing mystery cults at the core of their practices.

More often than not, in my time among them I saw that the actual administration of their province had fallen to the generals of the Xi clan and the administrators of the Meng and the Hui, who all had the gall to act without even consulting their betters in many situations! When I first arrived in their lands, those lowborns had the sheer temerity to imply that they would handle my accommodations themselves! Why I would not be surprised if whole swathes of the Emerald Seas had not gone a generation without the guiding hand of a true ruler of good bloodline. Their hierarchies are fluid and change from generation to generation,leaving their longsuffering commonfolk without stability. Is it any wonder that word of the squabbling in the forests reached even the palaces of the Thousand Lakes?

The cults of the Weilu are the third point. While propitiation and respect of the great spirits is a natural thing, and rulers naturally need to intercede upon our lesser's behalf as the priestess' of the greater rituals, the Weilu had even then begun to take such matters too far. The role of the spiritual in our lives must be attended too, lest we become akin to the usurpers madmen, that role is best served as subordinate to temporal matters for we, who must rule. The Weilu show the other extreme, wherein one becomes dangerously detached from the material world. In some places in the Emerald Seas, cults have even come to wield more power than the nobility, even outside the Dream Cults of Xiangmen and the other Weilu holdings. Rather than simply mediating between human and spirit, they have developed doctrine and dogma which in some places even is treated as superior to imperial law. I trust that you understand the danger of this. Among the Weilu themselves, membership of the Dream Cults was nigh universal, and not in a merely perfunctory manner.

I have witnessed scions of the Weilu conflict over the proper manner of interacting with some particular part of the Hearth with the same vigor that Bai scions might compete over whose war tactics are superior in the field. As an outsider, even one of such high status I did not have access to the mysteries of these cults. I was only able to see their public expressions. However, what I was able to hear disturbed me. Words were spoken of a flawed world and the constructed nature of natural hierarchy. Of the falsity of the divide between individuals, and the impermanence of the material world. The greatest of the cults among them spoke of achieving some transcendent state, beyond even Great Spirits, who they had begun to regard as impure for their involvement in the World. It very much seemed to me that the Weilu, toward the end of my time may have been on the verge of rejecting their own responsibility as rulers totally and completely.

What precisely they have done to themselves, I cannot say, and do not like to consider. However, there is no risk that what they have done has been done with ambition toward the physical world. To send troops to that land of squabbling savages would do not naught but weaken other fronts. If the Usurper should do so, let him waste his time there and press in other locations. The Emerald Seas will remain when the war is done, and the lesser clans there may be pacified at will and reorganized into a proper hierarchy when we, and our emperor have the time to give them proper attention. The mess that the Horned Lords have left in their wake shall certainly require that much.

-An entreaty addressed to Duchess Bai Meifeng in the midst of Strife.

 

[Apocalyptic Loon]

The Fly

Nestled snugly in one of The Emerald Sea's many valleys was a small farming town. In this town lived a famous moneylender. This moneylender was very rich, very powerful, and very greedy. He was always wanting more.

One day, with the sun shining overhead and flower blossoms floating lazily on the wind, the moneylender found himself standing outside a hovel on the outskirts of town. The man and woman who lived in the house owed him money. And there was nothing the moneylender loved so much as an opportunity for more money

Without pause, the moneylender raised his fist and knocked on the door.

*Knock**Knock**Knock*

He knocked again when no answer came.

*Knock**Knock**Knock*

After a moment, the door opened to show was a boy, a young boy, and the money lender said—

xxxXXXxxx​

"Sissy!" Cried a young voice. The plea cutting through the story like the ringing note of a flute through the serenity of a mountain vale. Ling Qi, bemused, looked down at the child bundled tightly in blankets.

The child's pale face stared up at her, nose scrunched in innocent puzzlement from within a cocoon of plush fabric. "Why is it a boy?"

As the child asked the question, the bright, gibbous moon could be seen through the high window, illuminating an odd sight. At the foot of the child-sized bed, where the youngest member of the Ling household currently rested, lay a swirling eddy of mist.

Though this was no ordinary mist.

The consistency ebbed and waned, with some sections being so congealed the haze looked almost solid, while other sections bled color like someone had poked a hole into the liminal realm. Taken as a whole, the swirling cloud of mist formed an image of a thickset man bedecked in a garish robe looming over the form of a small, thin boy outside of a rickety home.

"There's no special reason," said Ling Qi, answering her sister's question with a minuscule shrug. "It's a boy because that is how the story goes."

"Hmph." Biyu sniffed, unsatisfied with the answer. "Sissy should change it."

"Oh, how so?"

"Should be a girl instead."

"What would that change?" Asked Ling Qi with an amused half-smile.

"It will make the story better Sissy." Biyu informed her sister in a tone dripping with precocious exasperation.

Never one to miss an opportunity, Ling Qi felt Sixiang stir in her mind. 'Really Ling Qi, how could you miss something so obvious.'

Ling Qi resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Barely. 'Hush you.' Externally, she smiled down at her sister. "Very well. It is your story after all."

And, with a wave of her hand, the mist churned.

The facsimile of the sun still shone overhead, the flower blossoms captured by the wind's currents remained frozen in midair, and the moneylender's pinched expression didn't so much as twitch. But the boy morphed. His features softened and his hair grew, he stretched upwards and his clothes shifted from a rough-spun tunic and pants to a modest gown of the same material.

A moment earlier, the three-dimensional portrait had shown a young boy peeking from around a mist-constructed door to peer at the moneylender. In his place was now a scrawny, sharp-featured girl.

Ling Qi raised a brow. "Better?"

Biyu simply snuggled deeper into her blankets, ready for the story to continue.

Content with the nonverbal answer, Ling Qi flexed her will. In response, the image suspended at the foot of the bed sprung back into motion.

xxxXXXxxx​

The door opened to show a girl, a young girl, and the moneylender said, "Where are your mother and father? I have come to collect the money that they own me."

And the girl said, "My mother is selling the wind to buy the moon and my father is cutting living trees to plant dead ones."

"What!" Exclaimed the moneylender in confusion as he pushed his way into the house. "Where are your mother and father for they must pay the debt they own me."

The girl looked at the moneylender and said again, "My mother is selling the wind to buy the moon and my father is cutting living trees to plant dead ones."

"I want to know where your mother and father are. Today they must pay their debt." The moneylender's face was flushed and his eyes bulged out like a bullfrog's. "Now tell me!"

And the girl looked at the moneylender and said, "Why should I tell you?"

"If you tell me where your mother and father are… the debt is cancelled, they do not have to pay. Now tell me where they are!"

And the girl said, "I will tell you, but how do I know you will be honest? There is no witness here."

"Bah!" Said the moneylender, slashing his hand through the air. "The walls of the house can be the witness."

"The walls?" Echoed the girl. "The walls aren't living. There must be a living witness."

"Very well." Said the moneylender. "See that fly on the wall." He pointed to the rickety wooden wall where a fly had landed. "That fly is a living thing. That fly will be the witness."

"Very well." Said the girl. "I will tell you—

xxxXXXxxx​

"Wait!" Cried Biyu, brows furrowed.

Ling Qi cut off her narration. The mist-formed caricatures of the girl and moneylender stilled as the Qi driven theatre paused.

Ling Qi thought about teasing Biyu about her interruption, but decided not to drive the conversation off-track. Instead, she waited patiently for Biyu to organize her thoughts.

Chewing on her lip, brows still bunched into a worried crease, Biyu wondered aloud. "Can a fly really be a witness, Sissy?"

"What do you think?" Ling Qi redirected.

"I…" The young girl thought about it seriously. "I think it can be."

"Oh?" Inquired Ling Qi, surprised at the answer.

"Umm, it could be a smart fly." The words were halted, like Biyu was thinking about the question even as she answered. "Like Big Turtle is a smart turtle."

"A spirit. True…" Ling Qi mused, ignoring Sixiang's mental giggle at her sister's description of Zhengui.

She was reminded of the difference in their environments growing up. When Ling Qi's mother had told her the same story, the fly was only ever a fly in her imagination. But Biyu, under Ling Qi's watchful gaze, had played with the little spirits of river-and-forest. The massive shell of Zhengui had acted as her own personal playground, and more than once her hair had been braided by a playful Sixiang as Ling Qi worked on composing a new song with Hanyi.

She had lived a different life. A better life.

"True," Ling Qi repeated. "The fly could have been a spirit... but this time I think it was really just a fly."

Biyu sat up in alarm at the news, her blankets falling to her shoulders. "Then can a normal fly be a witness, Sissy?!"

Ling Qi pretended to give it some thought. "Mhm, no, I don't think so."

"He's lying!" Came the scandalized accusation. "Sissy he's lying!"

Ling Qi nodded solemnly. "He is, isn't he."

"He's going to be sad." Biyu proclaimed with innocent finality

"You think so?"

"Mommy said lying is bad and it makes people sad."

Ling Qi sensed a tale, but decided not to bite. "How about we listen to the rest of the story to see what happens, then?"

"Hmm." Biyu agreed, eyes pinned to the mist as it swirled back to life, the story continuing.

xxxXXXxxx​

"Very well." Said the moneylender. "See that fly on the wall." He pointed to the rickety wooden wall where a fly had landed. "That fly is a living thing. That fly will be the witness."

"Very well." Said the girl. "I will tell you." The girl looked at the moneylender with wide, solemn eyes. "My mother is selling the wind to buy the moon; my mother is selling fans in the marketplace to buy oil for our lamp at night. And my father is cutting living trees to plant dead ones; my father is in the forest cutting bamboo so that he can build a fence."

"Fine." Said the moneylender. "I will return."

And as the moneylender turned to leave, the girl said. "The debt is cancelled, remember."

Later that night there was a knock on the door.

*Knock**Knock**Knock*

A man opened the door to see the moneylender standing outside. Striding into the home, the moneylender spoke. "I have come to collect the money that you owe me."

The man and the woman in the house looked at each other in despair. "We have no money to pay you. We are poor."

And now the girl spoke, and she said, "There is no debt. The debt is cancelled, remember?"

"Ha!" Scoffed the moneylender. "No one will believe a child."

The next day, he took the case to the town magistrate, and many people were gathered together in the courtroom. The magistrate listened to the story of the moneylender and was tempted to believe him, but the girl spoke up. "He cancelled the debt. He promised that my mother and father would not have to pay!"

"Is there a witness?" Said the magistrate.

"Yes!" Said the girl. "The witness was a fly!"

The magistrate laughed. "How can a fly be a witness?"

"I want the money that I am owed." The moneylender's ten gleaming golden rings contrasted nastily with his flushed cheeks and plum colored robe. "Give me the money."

But the girl was not scared.

"The fly was a witness." She glared fearlessly at the greedy man. "The fly was sitting on the end of his big, fat, ugly nose!"

The moneylender erupted from his seat, almost frothing at the mouth he was so enraged. "The fly was not on my nose," he shrieked, spittle spraying from his lips. "The fly was on the wall!"

There was a moment of silence, then everybody in the court began to laugh. The magistrate too laughed at the moneylender.

And, the laughter of the townsfolk echoing around him, the moneylender left the courtroom with nothing, ashamed and humiliated.

The magistrate stood from his seat in the front of the room and proclaimed to all. "There is no debt. The debt is cancelled."

xxxXXXxxx​

"...is no debt. The debt is cancelled." Finished Ling Qi.

Releasing control of her mist, the final image of a courtroom filled with laughing people, a girl being hugged by a man and woman, and a despondent moneylender lingered briefly before collapsing.

"I like that story Sissy."

Ling Qi brushed a loose strand of Biyu's hair out of her eyes. "I'm glad."

"She tricked the mean man."

"She did."

Ling Qi smiled at Biyu as the younger Ling fought a losing battle to keep her eyes open.

Making to get up from her perch on the side of the bed, Ling Qi was stopped by a small, pale hand latching onto her sleeve. "Not yet Sissy."

Reaching down, Ling Qi gently extracted her dress from Biyu's little fingers. "It's bedtime Biyu. Mother will come check on you soon."

Pleading eyes looked up at her. "One—" A sleepy yawn interrupted Biyu before she could finish."—On'more Sis?"

Ling Qi couldn't help the smile that crossed her lips as exhaustion caused her sister's words to lisp. Which, while cute, was not enough to change her answer. "No Biyu, it's time for bed."

"Sissy!" Whined the young girl in response.

Ling Qi knew Biyu could get stubborn when she was tired, so she preempted any further fussiness with a proposition. "If you promise to close your eyes and be good, I will stay until you fall asleep."

"Really?"

"Really." Ling Qi confirmed.

It took some gentle maneuvering, but Ling Qi managed to find a comfortable position on the small bed. The younger girl, still wrapped tightly in her blankets, shuffled closer to her sister's heat and buried her face in Ling Qi's side. Submerging herself in the peace of the moment, Ling Qi tenderly ran her fingers through Biyu's silky hair, humming the half-remembered tune of an old lullaby.

'Heh, softy.' Accused Sixiang, sounding fond.

Watching the gibbous moon through the high window as she waited for Biyu's breathing to even out, Ling Qi did not deny it.

xxxXXXxxx​

The story itself is not mine, it is based on the Vietnamese folktale, "The Fly". Specifically, I used a version told by David Heathfield on Youtube for this omake.

I think it could have been executed better, but I still think the idea of Ling Qi using her mist to play what are essentially short movies for Biyu is cool. Ending could use so work as usual, still I hope you enjoyed it!

@yrsillar

 

[yrsillar]

The people, the nobility, even the more foolish members of the ministry still whisper that we have lost something. They say that the Lords of the Peaks have become content, decadent, wedded to peace. Why there was hardly any resistance at all when the First Emperor of Mu took his throne. The Sage was not so passive they say. The Sage was a true emperor, who conquered and ruled and made of himself a legend!

It all comes back to the Sage, again and again, echoing down through history. It is troubling though, how little understanding there is of what they are clamoring for. Young one, the first thing you will need to learn from me as my apprentice to the Imperial Archive is that the Sage was a horrifying man. A beast bloated on blood, pride, and pleasures of the flesh. Yes, he was a peerless warrior and general, a canny statesman and a superlative speaker, at least in the beginning. Yes he founded the ministries and the other foundations which have kept the Empire together, though with more help and badgering from his court than the public histories would tell you, but that does not change what he was.

I see the horror on your face that I would speak so, but worry not. Behind the doors of the archive, we are not prone to censure. That is why we live wholly in these halls, except when attending to the Imperial person, yes? So that history might remain recorded without bias and censure from outside forces. When the reigning Emperor or Empress needs unvarnished truth in order to see the path forward, we provide it to them.

But yes, the ways of the Peaks do all come back to the Sage. We are a conservative and cautious people. And does that not bring us prosperity? Where else in the Empire can you find towns and cities so pristine and well ordered? Stability is the cardinal virtue. In a world as deadly as ours, the Lords of Heavens Peaks have carved out a bastion of peace and order. Here wild spirits do not test our defenses, bound instead by ritual and precedent dating back to the age of dragons.

Under the harmony of the ministries the nobility limits their plays for power to each other, and so long as the bureaucracy functions what matter is if some decadent fools cannot live up to the wisdom of their fathers? The temples once created strife, bending people's attention away from their duty and proper status, but they have long since been tamed. That is the true lesson to be learned of the Sage. Cultivation is dangerous. Spirits are dangerous. It is said that the highest cultivators are greater than a thousand wise men and sages, but so are they worse than a thousand madmen and murderers. Cultivation is an amplification of the self, far past human limits and even if we no longer articulate it, the people of the Peaks understand this. Spirits and spirit beasts are a hundredfold worse in their intractability to society's order.

The Sage Emperor, The Usurper Shang Tsung, the Three Jewel Emperors, the Twilight King. These were all men of the same cloth, Great Men, whose genius was fit to change the very bones of the world. And they were each and every one of them terrible in their way. They bring ruin and death, even when they build as well. Such is the way the Eighth realm. A titan crushes others under their feet, even when they walk with the best of intentions.

So, stability and order. The dangers of cultivation may be curbed when children are taught from a young age to respect ritual and precedent. This discipline must extend through all levels of society to be effective, down to fashions and interpersonal relations. When those with the greatest experience and wisdom are obeyed reflexively, and only questioned with great care and thought, harmony is achieved. From harmony arises prosperity and peace. When all actions have a well codified etiquette to them, even the most divergent of cultivators can avoid disrupting society overmuch. Many see us as stagnant, proud and even cruel in our ways, but is it not better for a few individuals to suffer, so that the people may live peaceful, stable lives?

It is true that things must change at times, the ascension of the Mu is proof of that, but such changes must be agreed upon by the wise, who stand above the petty nobility and masses, and so can see the correct course. The Mu are thus the obvious choice. They are among those whose decisions have guided the realm since the Cataclysm, through weak Emperors and strong. They understand what sort of person is best for the throne, stable, unambitious, even tempered.

This is true at every level. Those who push for change must always be scrutinized deeply, and their ambitions checked, no matter how well they speak of the problems they wish to solve. Long experience shows that allowing them their way brings only misery and disorder. Similarly, although they were instrumental to the Empire's rise, it has become increasingly clear that those who mix their blood with spirits are too unstable to be trusted. Their very nature makes them unable to fully integrate with natural hierarchy which must rule mankind if we are to have peace rather than constant war.

It may be difficult for you to understand now young one, but with my guidance, you will come to see that it is necessary. Let others call our laws and ways stifling, you need but look out over the Imperial City at night, with its sparkling lights, clean streets and happy people to know that they are wrong. As my apprentice, you will learn the precedent of each law and custom and limitation that might seem foolish to your young eyes.

And, when you begin to approach my age, you will understand that they are truly for everyone's benefit.

Second to last Head of the Imperial Archive to his apprentice.

***​

You want to know of our neighbors my boy, and how a man such as the Sage could have arisen from such stiff necked prudes? Fool! Don't come to me expecting a simple answer. But halt your feet and cool your temper a moment, and this old woman might be inclined to give you the pieces you need to work it out yourself. The First thing you need to understand is Dragons!

Yes, that's right, dragons. Don't you groan at me boy, it's not my fault the fat lizards get themselves into everything. You see the thing is where our great ancestor Zhi took one look at the senile old 'god' still trying to rule our mountains, she scoffed, broke his back and then his head! Then she took his slaves and made them her people, living in the halls of Shuilian and letting folk better suited to it figure out how to reproduce the old stonework. That's all the respect dragons deserve my boy, give 'em a good punch and they'll fold easy enough. They're strong but not invincible. Don't entertain their pretensions.

The thing is, the Celestial Peaks never had anyone so wise and strong of arm as Zhi. True, the dragons there were as broken as the others so they didn't truly rule most of the land, but those damn fool Peak's folk just kept worshipping them anyway. That's why they're such a prickly bunch. I bet half of 'em are so annoyed by the Bai because they're jealous they don't have scales. Not a bad thing to appreciate, I met a lad from the Thousand Lakes once with the smoothest…

What? Right, Peaks folks.

Point is when they were setting up they got it into their heads that the lizards were the ones to emulate. Everyone had to have their place and everyone had to be in their place. Like a dragon, they get real huffy with anyone who doesn't fit their view of the hierarchy. That's where all this duke and count and baron business comes from, neat little boxes that don't always quite fit as snug as they'd like. They jam everyone in 'em regardless though. Getting to the actual reason you're asking this boy, the reason that pretty girl the ambassador brought with him won't give you the time of day is related to.

You see dragons are as greedy as they are proud, and they don't accept equals, never. So you can guess everything involved in love and sex gets tied up in knots. The lizards want to practically own their partners and Peaks folks ain't much better. One person, forever? Pfah, romance like that's rare as Hen's teeth. Maybe for a mortal whose only got a few decades to spend that makes sense, but not for a cultivator. The other problem of course is all that inheritance business they do. It's nonsense it is even leaving out the part where you trace the bloodline through a man.

If you want so much as my extra wine gourd after I shuffle off, you'll have to earn it boy. Same as any of your brothers and sisters. If you don't deserve my treasures they'll go back to the clan as is proper. But Peaks folks don't think that way. They want all their things to stay theirs, and that means they have to go to their brats. An' because of that, they have to control real strict like who sticks their cock in who. So of course they invent a bunch of rituals around it, bind it with contract and tradition and hierarchy until all the joy of life has been squeezed out and you've got naught but fake smiles and cold feet in the bed.
Pfah, and they have the gall to say that their way shows truer love.

Even their festivals and parties are staid, lifeless things, where everything happens in good order and if there's a surprise everyone involved will be shamed and apologizing for a decade over it. Now, it's true that there are plenty of good friendly folks in the Peaks that just need a little nudge to drop their own chains. There are plenty though that like those chains and will be mortally offended by any effort to free them.

What, the Sage? I was getting there boy.

See the Sage came through the tribes of the Peaks like an avalanche. They'd been dancing their fossilized little dance ages at that point, maybe they'd have unified on their own at some point, assuming we or the Bai didn't decide to kick over their basket at some point. Oh but then this youngster comes through and breaks everything on his own! He ignores their traditions, slaps aside their big men and speaks to their people on his own, and oh did they listen. Y'see the Sage was the closest thing a man's ever come to being a dragon. A dragon will sit around in it's cloud or river or cave for ages, nursing grudges and sniping at his fellows, but the Sage was a man of passion. His words whipped up the pride and greed in men's hearts, and he burned down the other leaders of the Peaks t the cheers of their own soldiers.

That's the thing most legends leave out boy, that man had a voice. A voice fit to make men stab their own kin and seduce the coldest serpent.

Huh, why'd we join him? Cause it seemed like a good laugh. There was drinking with the old reveler and contests and whatnot. It wasn't like it was hard to find a Zheng girl who wanted on the wild ride if you get me boy. Course we weren't aware of just how much a dragon he was at that point. We'd seen him cast down the stuffy order of the peaks, and take up wild challenges… but in the end a dragon is a dragon. In the end the only thing he changed was building the whole rotten mess back up with himself at the center.

Nowadays we stick around because the rest don't stick their noses in our business much, and fighting wars is nasty business.

Mm? There's a difference between fighting and wars boy and don't you forget it. Fighting is a few wrecked buildings and broken bones and two new brothers or sisters going home to drink; it's an idiot villain trounced and getting hailed as a hero as you throw open his stores for common folk. Wars are a field of dust where there were cities; they're a thousand thousand wraiths and spirits wailing hate and vengeance under an ash choked sky. Don't talk to me about war boy, especially not using the words of those red turban fucks. Where'd you even go hearing nonsense like that boy? You tell your Sifu right this damned second.

--Partial recording of a Zheng Elder, dating from two centuries after the end of the strife.

 

[yrsillar]

The wind screamed past Gu Tai as he rocketed upward through the hollowed tower of the palace complex. It was an immense thing many hundreds of meters tall. The main structural elements had withstood the Cataclysm, but it could not resist sinking into the newly molten bedrock. Now it was far below ground, with only a weathered crown peaking above the sand. It was an ancient tomb, and Gu Tai was certain that here he would find secrets of his ancestors.

But, like all tombs, it had its worms.

He glanced over his shoulder, past the crackling flames that half transformed his arms into wings, just as the almighty crash shook the world, and an open circular maw rimmed with row upon row of serrated teeth opened below him and roared. The qi flowing through his arms flared, catching the rising wave of wind to spiral higher. For an instant, he alighted upon a shattered patch of floor, still clinging tenaciously to the tower wall. Below him the worm was shrouded in the dust and noise of shattering rock as it climbed the hollow tower.

Gu Tai grinned as the heet blooming under the soles of his boots flared, turning ancient stone red and orange with heat. A moment later, the coiled tension in his crouched legs released as he launched himself upward, bright white streamers of flame trailing from his shoes as he flew toward the pinprick of sunlight overhead, just a few bare meters above the rising cloud of dust and debris.

In a few short seconds he flew up from the top of the tower just as the flames under his boots began to gutter out, and the drag of the earth began to grasp at his limbs. As the great black worm erupted from the tower top below him, hide caked in compacted ashen armor and mouth gaping, Gu Tai looked up to the the clear blue sky and the blazing sun standing at its peak, and breathed.

Solar qi flooded his channels, and the flames licking at robes blazed, a pair of short sabers burning with the light of the sun appeared in his hands as a controlled burst of flames flipped him face down, and launched him straight back down.

The exhilaration of solar qi burning through his whole body, on the very edge of self-destruction brought a bark of laughter from his lips that was swiftly ripped away by the wind. The flames that bloomed from his sabers roared out, like wings of flame.

He fell, the worm rose.

And the beast's bulk fell to the sand in two halves with a thunderous boom.

Gu Tai stood with a grimace, as boiling streamers of blood and other fluids reached his nose. His grimace transformed into a smirk as he gave his blades a swift twirl and dismissed them back to storage. One blow, just as he suspected.

"Just who do you think you're showing off to, Gu Tai?" cackled a croaking voice from above.

Gu Tai glanced up, squinting against the noontime glare as a shadow passed over him, the wide wingspan of his raven companion Yuzhao, who alighted on his shoulder, talons digging into the leather pauldron he wore there.

"You never know who might be watching my friend," he said cheerfully. "One should always act with a bit of flair."

"Naturally," the old bird squawked sarcastically, spreading and closing his wings in the manner that a man might stretch his arms. Under the bright sunlight, the ravens black feathers shimmered with a shadow of the radiance that was their birthright. "Of course, now we have to dig through the steaming innards of an infant sandworm to get back down."

Gu Tai clicked his tongue as he began to walk back toward the tower, each step bringing with it risers of boiling fluid and the scent of cooking wormflesh. "It was either that, or damaging the ruins below further. I would not have been able to achieve such a smooth kill without the blessing of the Zenith."

"Ya Ya, I still say anything worth the finding wouldn't have been damaged by a little scuffle," Yuzhao dismissed. "You- Oh is that a shine mine eyes spot?"

Gu Tai blinked following Yuzhao's gaze toward a quivering fold of purplish flesh. There was indeed, something gleaming beneath it. Hurrying his steps, he crouched down, only grimacing a little as he pried open the edge of what seemed to be a scab or cyst. His expression quickly became a grin as he saw what lay within, a gleaming straight sword, undamaged down to the damp red tassel dangling from its hilt. There was a wet sucking sound as he pulled it free and gave it a flick, removing the last traces of worm blood.

"Well now, not my preference, but a fine piece anyway," Gu Tai said cheerfully, putting the blade through a few elementary motions to test its balance. A bit of power sparked within the metal, nothing awake but a good sign nonetheless.

"Hm, hm fine indeed. I'm sure some little sparrow will pay well to feather their nest with that," Yuzhao agreed, fluffing his feathers. "Mayhap a good omen for the day after all!"

"Perhaps," Gu Tai thought, sending the sword into his storage ring, where it came to rest slithering down a neat pile of ceramics and old coins.

As he began the business of carving his way back down into the tower, Gu Tai had to admit that he hoped Yuzhao was right. Things had not been going as well as he had hoped so far. The funds and contracts he had gathered and received at the outset were fairly generous, and had purchased him a fine enough sand runner to live out of while a home was being constructed, but he had to admit some dissatisfaction.

How many weeks had it been now, since he had spoken to anyone other than Yuzhao?
Burning with white flames, one of his sabers flashed out three times carving open a way through the already decaying wormflesh. Gu Tai stepped out of the gory passage with a sigh and let himself enter freefall, Yuzhao letting out an indignant caw as he took to the air. It was, he knew a bit foolish of him to feel that way. He had only been out here a short time, it was ridiculous to expect that he would discover any great treasures or secrets in a scant year or two.

The sleeves of his tunic flapped in the wind as he fell down into the dark, lit only by the glow of his saber. The floor of the worm tunnel that lay at the bottom came into view, and Gu Tai took hold of the wind, stilling it as his boots struck stone with a heavy crack whose echo bounced wildly in the sphere of stilled air. Stepping out of the small crater left in the stone, he shook the new made gravel off of his boots.

The worm tunnels had intersected with the sunken ruin here, shattering the worn stone and metalwork that had withstood the Catacylsm but had since rotted. He cast a brief glance down the eerily ribbed tunnel going off to his left.

"Only one infant and just after the hatching feast I'd judge, the adults won't back back for the better part of a decade," Yuzhao grumbled huffily, settling back on his shoulder. "Should mark the spot though, eggs sell well."

Gu Tai hummed his agreement. The Guo felt they were a delicacy if he remembered, their unique constitution rendered the lethal toxins in sandworm eggs a pleasant spice. But, that was something for later. He turned to the right, where the scattered colonnades of a palace hall lay. Several columns were tipped over and parts of the roof sagged. The floor too was covered by a layer of old stone showing the signs of having flowed between the columns as liquid once.

His footfalls were silent, muffled by the wind as he strode out across the striated rock. Passing through the ancient fallen halls, he considered his direction as he came to the first intersection. If he considered the locations of the other collapsed towers the central complex, should be-

"On the right,"Yuzhao said. He gave the bird a mock glare, earning a gravelly cackle.

They took the right hall, and descended the stair they found there. Sand packed most of the side chambers, long since collapsed by the weight above, but he made his way along, searing sand to glass and flash cooling it with the wind to seal gaps in the stonework where necessary, sweeping his path free where he could. Like that he descended into the silence of the ruin.

It was a little awe inspiring, he had to admit, to see what the people of old Golden Fields had accomplished. He certainly couldn't imagine the defenses of Pheonixhome remaining so intact under these conditions. It was also sobering, seeing the silhouettes of people on the walls, outlined in their last moments.

There were no bones.
Still, some trinkets remained, a strongbox in a small room, its formation mechanisms long decayed revealed a small trove of green stones and a few talismans. A miraculously preserved dining room had a marble topped table, it's legs and sides finished with exquisite scrollwork depicting the flights of the vanished phoenixes.

All the while, he descended down, until at last he reached a chamber with tall and wide doors of polished ivory, thick enough and once enhanced enough to withstand siegework. It took all of his strength to wedge one open enough to let him slip inside.

The threadbare remains of a crimson carpet fell to dust under his boots as he beheld the palaces throne hall. It seemed almost familiar, the style hardly different from his Uncle's hall, though the roaring flames were long cold and the tapestries rotted. However, none of that mattered, for the throne itself still sat at the end of the hall, encrusted in gemstones and burning with old, still active formations.

Excitement rising in his chest, he strode down the hall swiftly, his eyes darting around for the almost expected trap or ambush. But, it seemed there was nothing-

"Ware," croaked Yuzhao. "The throne's not as it seems."

Gu Tai frowned, looking up at the dais it rested on. Focusing his senses, he relaized Yuzhao was right, the heat map of it was off, rigid and unnatural. Raising his empty hand he let dispelling qi bloom, spreading through the room like a hot summer breeze.

The throne vanished, and in it's place was only a drifting scrap of parchment. He snatched it from the air before it hit the ground, and with growing agitation. He saw the simple illusion formation and turned it over to reveal the script on the other side.

'To slow, Sir or Miss! You'll need to be faster!'

A few hastily scribbled words, underscored by a childish drawing of a girl's face with a mocking expression. He stared down at it in incomprehension for a long moment and Yuzhao cackled in her ear.

"You knew you weren't the only one out here Tai," the crow chortled. "Looks like we have a rival."

He drew in a sharp breath, crumpling the note in his hand. It was infuriating to have a treasure snatched from under his nose, but… somehow a smile found its way onto his face.

He wasn't going to lose.

AN: Getting back on track with commission releases

 

[yrsillar]

The carved dome of crystal glass above was subtly and masterfully carved to refract the color of the light captured in it like frozen stars, projecting dreamlike patterns to stimulate the mind and imagination of cultivators in the midst of their contemplation. Below the dome was the arboretum, a study in the mastery of the Bao's craft, each tree sculpted from metals and stone, and each life carved from precious gemstone. Yet the leaves and branches swayed in the breeze as lightly as any natural growth, their tinkling chime a song that spread throughout the carefully arranged space. Pleasant paths of polished marble wove through artificial hillocks and troughs, and here and there among the green silk grass were flat stones and quaint little benches, perfect for resting upon in the midst of meditation.

For Bao Qian, though, it was still just his favorite place to relax. Few of the grown ups cultivated here, for reasons he didn't understand. Then again he had only been awakened a year ago, on his eleventh birthday, and he hadn't cultivated much yet. Still, as he laid back on the stone bench and listened to the song played by the breeze on the leaves, the memory of awakening brought a smile to his face. It was the only time he could ever remember Mother and Father being home the whole day.

He brought the fruits of today's lessons up in front of his face, studying the disc of soft grey stone and brushing his thumb over the clumsy chisel marks that etched out the lopsided face of a lion dog. They were such cool beasts, but Father said they weren't suitable companions for a Bao. His smile faded a little as he studied his work, and glanced out at the earth wrought trees.

...Even if it wasn't very good, he wished he had someone to show it too.

The sound of voices disrupted the music of the arboretum, and Bao Qian blinked, craning his neck to look behind him as shadows jumped about with the passing of figures through the north entrance. He saw someone dart off to the left, and then some thirty seconds later a harried looking servant came dashing through the doorway. She was an older woman, wearing the red and brown robes the serving families wore while on duty.

He thought he might recognize her, maybe she had been one of his caretakers awhile back? He couldn't be sure, they changed every other week. He'd heard Father mention something about untoward attachments to explain it, but he didn't really get it. It made it a pain to remember anything about the servants though. Curiously he watched the woman glance around and begin hurrying up the path.

She noticed him a few moments later as she approached the bench he was lying back on, and stopped to quickly duck her head in a bow. "I am sorry for disturbing your rest, Young Master Qian, but did you see Young Miss Qingling run this way?"

Bao Qian looked up at the old woman's expression, seeing the irritation in the lines of her expression. "What happened," he asked.

"The Young Miss had another one of her fits after her herbalism lesson and ran off. Instructor Shu ordered me to retrieve her, please Young Master," the servant said, bowing still lower.

Bao Qian sat up, thinking for a few moments. "She ran off toward the east exit."

He watched the woman bow and again, hurrying off as fast as dignity allowed. He watched her go, feeling just a little bad for her. Then, he looked off to his left, where he had seen the figure dart under the shadows of the trees. He rested his chin in one hand, idly flipping his carving between his fingers. One of her fits, huh.

He remembered the first time he'd seen her when they were both really little, like only eight or nine. The big presentation festival where all the Bao who were out journeying came back to try and impress the head and the elders with their projects had been in full swing. There'd been a big scandal when the clan head's youngest daughter had broken down in the middle of part of a crowded show hall screaming and crying. He still remembered how furious her mother had looked as she followed the servants carrying the girl out. It had made his head throb, even with his parents standing over him.

Bao Qian hopped down from the bench, feeling the soft springiness of the silk grass under his bare feet, and started to walk out under the crystal trees. He'd seen her since of course, it was hard not too, when only some of the lessons split the girls and the boys here in the lower halls. She didn't really get on with anyone. The other boys like himself mostly just avoided her, but the girls…

Well, there was a reason he was wary of them. Girls were so mean.

He'd rather get in a fistfight with Qiang, than get in an argument with Qiao. He might win the one.

You'd think, as the clan heads daughter, everyone would be nicer, but Bao Qian supposed if his Father was so busy, the clan head must never stop working, and he had so many older children besides. Maybe he just forgot about her?

That was kinda sad, and that was why he felt bad for her.

It was a little spooky under the canopy of the arboretum, the starlight reflected strangely through the branches, spinning misty webs of light and dancing images, but mostly, it was cool and dark. He found Qingling by the sound of her breathing. She was curled up among the roots of a carved marble tree. She'd grown into a thin and awkward girl, and her dark hair hung down over her face and the hands clutching at her temples.

"Go away," she hissed well before he reached her.

He stopped considering what he saw, her green dress was muddy and ill kempt, so she must have taken a tumble in the garden, his eyes traveled up to her whitened knuckles and the small smear of blood on them. More he took a look at the way her shoulders were shaking, and the ragged edge to her breathing that wasn't exhaustion.

Father always said that understanding the people you were selling too was just as important as the quality of your product. He'd taught him some stuff about people that they didn't cover in the group lessons. Bao Qian turned and seated himself at the base of the onyx trunk he had stopped by, looking away from her.

Silence stretched on, broken only by the sound of her breathing. Bao Qian wondered if he was going to be scolded for lying when word got back around to his parents. He flipped his carving between his hands.

"What do you want," Qingling said eventually, only a hint of a sniffle in her voice."

"Just want to know what happened," he said casually. He knew she would just get mad if he said that he felt sorry for her. The first couple times he had approached her had gone pretty poorly because he was too honest.

"I was trying to help," she hissed.

He didn't say anything, just hummed an acknowledgement.

"Qiao was cutting her plant wrong. The medicinal properties would only be half as effective the way she was doing it. I pointed it out and the instructor agreed with me!" her words came quick and furious. "But she just got mad at me."

Bao Qian considered that she could probably have pointed out the mistake more quietly and avoided the instructors attention, but didn't say anything. Maybe for someone else that could have worked.

"Then after, they were all around me and my head hurt and they just wouldn't shut up. I should have hit her harder," Qingling said darkly.

Bao Qian closed his eyes, picturing a gaggle of Qiao and her friends, gathering around another girl who had offended them in the way they liked to do, heckling and insulting. He then pictured an agitated Qingling in the middle. Yeah, that sounded about right. "You know you're going to be in trouble now though."

"Like it matters," the girl replied, her voice muffled. She'd probably pressed her knees up against her face. "I'm always in trouble. If you're here, you're going to be in trouble too, fool."

"Hm, Father always says boys should get in trouble from time to time. It'll be fine. Probably," Bao Qian said with false cheer.

"...Boys are lucky then," Qingling said darkly.

"Maybe," Bao Qian agreed. "Well, since we're both in trouble anyway, will you look at something for me?"

"Why," Qingling asked suspiciously.

Because you're less suspicious if you feel like there's a transaction, he thought. Out loud, he just chuckled. "It's just, the instructors are too nice, I know you'll tell me where I made mistakes."

With those words, he flipped the disc he had been playing with over his shoulder. He heard a shuffle and the sound of stone hitting a palm. "...It's supposed to be a lion dog?"

"Well at least it's recognizable," he chuckled, scratching the back of his head.

"The lines on the mane are jagged, and his right eye is bigger than his left one. Some of the teeth are crooked too," Qingling said, only sniffling once.

Bao Qian nodded along, leaning back against the tree. It stung his pride a little, but he knew she wasn't really being mean. Qingling just… didn't get lying is all. He listened to her go on and let his eyes drift shut, picturing how he would fix his next try.

Nothing to do but wait till they were found now.

AN: This ended up coming up at a convenient time.In any case, also locking the vote, can I get the final tally?

 

[yrsillar]

I am glad that the intrigues of court are treating you well Bond Sister! As to my own situation, I must apologize for the lateness of this letter, my situation did not allow me to write for some time. To pick up where my correspondence left off, my journey into the far north, following the great triangle current had been going well. There were no more than the usual number of attacks from the Sea Folk upon my ship, and the deal I bartered with one of their chiefs even allowed a stretch of some hundred leagues to pass in peace. There was a bit of trouble as we rounded the northern point near the shattered lands where the Bronze Men make their homes among the arcadian forests of those innumerable isles.

A leviathan of the deep of a sort which I had never seen apparently mistook my ship for a snack! It resembled in some ways those little tentacled creatures the Xuan like to fry up, but of supremely greater size. I'd estimate it capable of dragging under an adult Xuan Wu by size alone, let alone it's cultivation. Luckily, it was not quite ready for me! It's arms were mighty, and its powers potent, but after I had dragged it into the sky and crashed it back into the ocean floor, it fled, wounded by my glory. Unfortunately, our battle had sent my ship far off course and damaged the hull, and I myself was feeling a bit winded.

As my crew and I were drifting on the ocean, pondering our predicament, we sighted a strange ship on the starboard horizon. It was an odd thing, not like the Bronze Men's ships. Frankly it looked to be more suited as a river barge than an ocean ship, and it was carved from white stone. If it did not cut through the waves with such imperturbable stability I would think it's makers foolish indeed. It bore a sigil of gleaming gold upon its sail, depicting a strange insect bearing aloft a solar disc.

Naturally, I hailed them. I had heard from my time among the Bronze Men of a great kingdom of stone to their west, which only the bravest of their heroes dared to challenge to honorable war. I was intending to search for their lands anyway, so it seemed that Lady Fortune has favored me! I was able to communicate with their captain, a friendly chap, who went by the name Ahkom. I always keep some gifts and exotic provisions on board, and an offering of preserved meats from the southern empire were enough to get the rights to berthing and the chance to make repairs to the ship.

It was a bit of a trying experience I must admit, I accompanied Ahkom. His gregariousness helped once we had deciphered each other's tongues, but that ship of White Stone… it was unsettling. You see it's captain was the only person aboard. It's crew were composed of what in the Stone Men's tongue translates best to 'dregs'. They were shaped like men sure enough but it quickly became clear that they were not. Ahkom found it quite humorous when I tried to talk to some of their number.

Dreg's it seems are the result of failures in their early cultivation, their method is dangerous to new practitioners and risks destruction of the mind, reducing them to something akin to those jittering automata the Jin have begun to deploy in their mines. Of course, they still have the needs of men, watching several of them tear into a side of bloody meat like animals is not a sight I'll soon forget.
I learned more of the Stone Men, or the Kingdom of Kem as they call themselves. The reason the bronze men knew them so little is that their kingdom was closed to foreigners. Only by direct word of their highest priest-who is also their king- could a foreigner be allowed to set foot in the lands of Kem. My friend Ahkom here, was a member of a priesthood which served a god by the name of Pteru, who as their god of travels was swallowed to settle islands in the straights and have dealings on the seas.

A wonderful little work around if I do say so myself.

I found things more agreeable once we had landed on the shores of Akhom's island outpost, although there were still very many dregs, there were at last other people of Ahkom's type as well. I must tell you now, they are a striking people. I spotted not a single adult who was shorter than I, and you know that I am not a short man! Their manner of dress would likely make your precious courtiers faint and even the matriarchs raise an eyebrow. Their primary garb is composed of sheer white linens, wrapped close around the body; it conceals little, particularly in the spray of the shore. They seem very fond of jewelry as well, bangles, anklets and an odd thing worn about the neck being most common. Both men and women make extensive use of cosmetic paints and oils which enhance the features and make their skin gleam like burnished bronze.

It was strange though, that I saw no mortals at all, there were only dregs to do the mundane work. Ahkom explained this to me by the fact that his outpost was not great enough to host a temple of the gods upon it, and as such there was no need for 'sleepers' here. Inquiring on this I found more of the Kingdoms structure revealed. It is well and good to say that cultivators stand above mortals, this is objectively true after all. However, the people of Kem see the society of mortals and the society of the Awoken to be entirely separate. Mortals have their own governance and society within Kem, connected only by the priests of the gods. Only once a year when youth may present themselves to the temples to attempt cultivation do the mortals of Khem directly interact with cultivators.

This lead to further questions to my erstwhile companion of course, and I swiftly came to realize that there had been some misconceptions between us. When good Ahkom spoke of his gods, he was not referring to a great spirit dwelling beyond the material world, but instead something more akin to our own ancestor, the Reveler. I came to this realization after Ahkom had asked of my own people, and I spoke of Him. He even found the idea of our ancestors jaunts in avatar form to be unsurprising.

Except of course, that these ancestors were men and not beasts. A troubling assertion, but not one which I was able to politely interrogate. In any case, I stayed with them for some weeks making repairs and learning just how vigorous and friendly my new hosts could be. Delightfully, I found that for once I had found a people who share our views on the sharing of joy and love. Not a single angry husband or wife to be found! It seemed that only certain religious roles required such bindings.

My visit was extended though, as I found myself receiving an invitation to Pteru's temple, it lay only a short distance off the coast of Kem, and was the closest a foreigner could come to that land without their King's permission. The hierarch of Pteru, that being his active representative in the mortal world, was interested in hearing of the Empire.

Allow me an aside on Kemnian kingship, it is an odd triple thing. At the top is the King of the Gods, the mighty ancestor who founded their land, but below him is the 'Greater Pharaoh' who is his descendant and takes the part of actively ruling the realm. He also 'becomes the God' at some point, which I did not quite understand. A euphemism for the afterlife or ascension perhaps? Regardless beneath him is the 'Lesser Pharaoh' who rules the mortals, he is the exception to the rule excluding cultivators from mortal life, for he must also be descended from the King of Gods. There seems to be some limitations on his ability to cultivate though. Once again I could not properly interrogate.

But, leaving that conundrum aside, my visit to the Great Temple! It was visible from the horizon, a great complex of gleaming marble and gold, taking up over a third of the not small, island's surface. Below it was a beautiful terrace overlooking the harbor, containing a city of marble and painted in riotous color, flanked by a pair of statues some two hundred meters in height, depicting a young man with green skin and hands outstretched in welcome. Naturally I could sense the power in the guardian statues, those welcoming arms would become a barrier of truly mighty proportion if things were violent.

I glimpsed the mortal settlements lying on the far side during my stay as well. They had their own, much more modest harbor, but to my surprise, despite Ahkom's disregard for mortals, they did not seem any less prosperous than the mortal folk of the Empire. Perhaps more so than most places. I suppose there is something to be said of leaving them to their own devices, protected from the actions of cultivators.

The Hierarch was Pteru was a jovial man, which seemed common among his followers. There was some confusion at first when I thought he was a woman, but no, I was assured that the Hierarch was always a man, despite whatever he may have been born as. At least when acting in an official role. This was also true for the Pharaoh, I learned, although before they had always been a woman? Something about the rising of Aseti and the setting of Amuret. Theology confuses me, but apparently the mantle of King of the Gods sometimes shifted between the gods. That seemed quite unstable to me, but my hosts seemed to regard it as normal and natural.

I was feasted quite well, in the week that I stayed at the temple, receiving close attention from the Hierarch as I was questioned about the Empire. Naturally I made sure to give him a good impression of us. He seemed much disappointed by the distance which lay between us, but also resolved to see one of his sons pay a visit. I made sure to warn him of the Jin, it was easy enough, I just told him that our emperor had a similar arrangement to their Pharaoh, and that any ships should dock among the Xuan.

Wouldn't want those flat heads on the coast making a poor impression.

In any case, once I had taken my leave to sail south I was free to compose this letter to you, Bond Sister. By the time it arrives I should be only a few months from port. So, following up from your last letter. Tell me about this business with Crown Prince An?

-Excerpt from a letter by Zheng Lu, King of Explorers

AN: Just gonna sneak the public commission release in here, thank you for the feedback so far

 

[yrsillar]

Dong Fu gave the reins a tug, guiding his companion around the sharp turn in the road ahead. All around him, the dark forests of the Emerald Seas midlands blurred by in an indistinct mass of shadow, seen through the fluttering talisman strips which hung from the wide brim of his hat. It was, in his opinion, the perfect time of year for a journey through the central forests. With spring fading into summer, the shaded roads were far cooler than the hot scrublands in the east, and dryer than the damp swamp air to the west, and the lesser development of the land meant that the lights and fires of cities and industry so prevalent in the north were absent, leaving the starry sky clear and unobstructed.

He hummed a simple tune in time with the feeling of his companions hooves beating against the packed gravel of the winding forest road. It was a pleasure in itself to have experienced journeys that had taken him far and wide enough to have a preference though, he supposed. Most cultivators were sedentary sorts, not particularly inclined to travel. He'd always had the itch for travel though. Sitting still never did sit right with him, disagreed with his cultivation.

Some things just didn't change.

Other things though…

Dong Fu snapped the reins casually, knowing they were coming up on a straight stretch, letting the wind howl outside the shell of calmed air as the carriage rushed on. He glanced back at the sealed carriage, where two young women who felt like they'd been through hell were resting. He allowed himself a wry grin. Not a glimmer of recognition.

He wasn't particularly offended though. They'd only spoken once. Still, it was startling seeing the gawky young thing he'd given some encouraging words to a year and a half ago wrapped in regal garb and standing beside the heiress of the Cai. His companion shook his head, tossing his mane and letting out a laughing whinny. Dong Fu cracked a smile. She'd certainly taken his advice to heart, by what he had heard.

He wasn't one for gossip, the some of his peers in the Inner Sect were, but he hadn't missed the story of the mad commoner girl, getting herself right in the middle of a tussle between all the highborn scions that had been incoming last year. Most had been pitying, expecting her to be crushed for her trouble, others dismissive waiting for failure to take her. He'd made a couple stones out of the tournament betting pool on her.

She'd had good fortune, and that could outweigh many things. Still, he considered her haggard expression as she climbed into his carriage for the final stretch of the trip back to the sect. Was she happy with what success though, he wondered. Being important was a double edged sword. His great grandfather had been important once. It had gone poorly for him. He'd learned that at his mother's knee in the tent city that lay below the cliffs of the Wang capital. They, a second wife and son who had no inheritance, were better for their irrelevance.

He bore them no resentment to his half siblings. He didn't particularly want lands and fancy houses. He had his companion, and his carriage, friends in a dozen cities, and a job that took him all over the Emerald Seas, and someday, maybe even the Empire. For humble Dong Fu, that was enough.

In the shadows ahead, he glimpsed a shadow across the road, fallen tree, or something more sinister he couldn't say, and so he let out a whistle through his teeth, and his companion's thundering hoofbeats crackled with electricity, a boom of thunder broke in the night and horse and carriage both soared over the obstruction on the road, never so much as jostling their passengers as they landed on the other side. Behind them, the 'tree' writhed briefly, and slithered from the path. Dong Fu made a note on the map in his mind, he would have to report that so the road wardens could take care of it.

But, his thoughts strayed back to his passengers. He still felt some sympathy for the girl, though she'd likely grow beyond him in a few years. She wasn't the type to fit the mold, he thought, and that was a dangerous thing. You could allay it, be useful or strong enough, and you could be allowed some eccentricity.

He had named his companion Fu because he was just bad at naming things after all. No reason to give him the stink eye. His hat and robe helped, people could ignore a lot of things if it wasn't rubbed directly in their faces. Man and horse shared a chuckle, carried away on the evening wind that howled past the carriage.

For that girl though… She'd already discarded that option. Even in the stables he heard the grumbles. She offended certain people just by breathing at this point. Yet, he'd spied the heiress allowing her to lean a hand on her shoulder. There was protection in that. This too his mother had taught him. Whatever could be said, she was no longer alone, and that was always the first step to safety.

Well, Dong Fu thought, it was no longer really his business. He was no noble, even if he had earned a title, he would never leave the Sect, and so he was merely a humble, if skilled driver, and she was a baroness, who would no doubt grow into more than that. One day, the name Ling Qi would be heard across the province. The name of Dong Fu might come to stables all over the empire, but never beyond.

Dong Fu leaned back on the driver's bench, snapping the reins once more as they neared an intersection of the roads, guiding his companion down the road to the Sect. In the story of a flashy life such as hers, Dong Fu was barely a footnote, and he was pleased enough to leave it that way.

And so, once again the carriage and the driver brought the girl of Tonghou to the Sect, to resume her story.

AN: Good work @Thor's Twin sorry bout posting this back to back here.

 

[yrsillar]

The lithe figure in black darted to the side as a gigantic hoof crashed down on the ground where she had stood, cratering the ground. From the stirred up earth, roots erupted and grew in fast motion, coiling together into the rude shapes of thorn studded men, who reached and grasped for the retreating girl.

Xiao Fen abruptly stopped in her backward flight, heel digging a trench in the soft earth as she lashed out at the crowding root men. Wood crunched and bark shattered under the force of knee and elbow strikes as the girl carved a narrow channel through the living wave of energy, cold black flames leaving burning trails in the air where her limbs passed. She reached the hoof, even now lifting back off the ground trailing clods of earth as the gigantic boar it was attached too snorted and tossed it's moss covered head.

She leapt and her hands blurred striking a half dozen times at a single point in the beast of stone and wood's leg, leaving first a hairline crack, and then a crevice, and then at last a fissure, splintering up the offending limb. Not a single time during any of that did her expression change, nor did she indicate that she even felt the wound in her thigh that was staining her gown red.

Then Liu Xin had to duck under the swinging arm of a vine man, and he nearly stumbled as the ground under his feet tried to trip him up. No matter how you looked at it, Xiao Fen was a frightening girl, even when she was on your side. He eyed his own enemies, a mix of summoned root men and stone guardian animals carved from mossy stone. It looked like even if the Elder who set up this trial gave some weight to other things, they just hadn't been able to help themselves with a combat challenge.

He felt himself grinning as he ducked and wove through the dumb constructs, his every footstep kicking up a plume of fine dust as qi pulsed through his legs, at last, he found a moment a respite as he dove and rolled to his feet on the other side of the encircling foe, and brought his foot down with a hard stomp, even more fine, choking dust erupting outward in a ringer. In his clenched hands, fiery stars bloomed and he threw out his hands.

The world turned white as the dust detonated, and Liu Xin's eyes did not even water. He'd gotten better at scrapping as an immortal after all. As the force of the blast rippled out through his bones.

Xiao Fen landed beside him, expressionless and unruffled, and behind her the stone boar turned ponderous and unsteady, favoring its right leg. His eyes widened as it lowered its head to charge, and yet Xiao Fen met his alarmed gaze without concern.

The sound of stone cracking shook the clearing, and the boar wobbled on its feet as across its body, new vents hissed and released black smoke. It took a single step forward, fury burning its crystal eyes before parts of its body began to bulge outward. The whole clearing shook as the beast exploded violently into an explosion of black flame and chaotic qi scattering shrapnel and gravel.

"...That's a new one," Liu Xin said, wincing as he lowered his arms from in front of his face.

"The Twenty Six Ruinous Touches art is passed from the teachings of Yao himself," Xiao Fen replied blandly. "It is not for use on targets which you wish to live."

That'd explain why he'd not seen it before, but on the other hand…

"You just mastered it huh?" Liu Xin said.

Xiao Fen did not visibly react. "That is correct. Your eye for energies is improving."

Liu Xin merely grunted, peering around the now quiet clearing. "Is that wound gonna be okay. I've got medicine. 'S my fault you got hurt saving me earlier anyway."

"I have already disabled the pain receptors in my leg," Xiao Fen replied. "And this is your trial, it is only sensible to preserve your capacity for action over mine."

"Right, and it's only sensible to make sure you're not hindered in the rest of the trial too," Liu Xin replied. He was familiar with how you argued with her by now.

Xiao Fen pursed her lips, peering suspiciously at the shattered clearing. "Very well. Apply your tincture quickly. We will not be left alone long."

He glanced down at the amount of blood soaked into her gown, and back to her face. Not even a little bothered.

Scary.

***​

Liu Xin collapsed onto the flat stone outside of the trial entrance, grinning fiercely. In one sweaty hand, he held a jade slip containing an art that would finally give him some defenses, and in the other he held a temporary storage bead containing enough stones to fund his craftworks for a month.

"It appears you succeeded, very good," Xiao Fen said.

Tiredly, he turned his head to where she sat on another stone in the hilltop clearing around the stone circle that marked the trial site. "Didn't I tell you to go to the medicine hall after you left?"

"You did. I determined that my bodily regulation art was sufficient," Xiao Fen replied blandly.

He closed his eyes. Somehow, when they had reached the point where one of them needed to go back, part of him had still thought for sure she was going to kick him out. Frankly, he still didn't understand this crazy girl. She didn't make sense. But she'd done exactly what she said she would, and now she'd even sat out here and waited for him to finish.

"Hey Xiao Fen," he said, rolling onto his back to stare up at the stars.

"Yes?" she said.

"You really are serious about being my friend huh?"

"I will fulfill all missions my Mistress gives me," Xiao Fen replied.

He grimaced, that was what she usually said, and it usually creeped him out. Liu Xin found he didn't really buy it though. There was no need to go as far as she did if it was just obligatory. "Yeah, I get that," he said. "Still, thank you."

"You are welcome," she said after a moment. "I am genuinely pleased by your success."

He let out a huff of laughter under his breath. "What're your parents like, Xiao Fen?"

"What an odd question for this venue, Liu Xin," Xiao Fen said.

"Well you badgered me about my family when we were having tea," Liu Xin grunted. He'd been too afraid not to answer, and too nervous to ask any questions back. That had been a real awkward tea time. "Seems like I should catch up."

Xiao Fen was silent for a time. "I had assumed I had made errors in establishing rapport, but it seems that you were simply shy, Liu Xin."

Sure, he would go with that.

"Unfortunately I cannot answer your query. I do not have parents," Xiao Fen said casually.

He winced. Well fuckin it up from the word go. Maybe his old man was right about him. "Oh shit, sorry. I didn't mean-"

Xiao Fen shook her head. "No, your assumption is wrong. No Xiao clan Bai have parents. Filial relationships would interfere with our duties."

He sat up, looking at her strangely. "Wait, who took care of you then. How does that even work?"

"The clan arranges for caretakers, who are swiftly rotated between the current generation of children to avoid any unnecessary attachments from forming," she said, pausing after a moment. "This is not a secret topic, but it is somewhat complex and lengthy. I believe it would be better to discuss the matter in more comfortable conditions."

"Right," Liu Xin blew out an explosive breath. So much for understanding her better. This was going to be a project.

He'd make it work though.

 

[yrsillar]

AN: And here's another commission going public.

...And with that, I bid the fellow goodbye, letting him resume his swim across the ocean. I certainly wish him luck with that lion hunting business. Such a wrestler, who could pin even me, is a hero worthy of every respect!

In any case, after I'd watched him vanish over the horizon, I had my men resume our journey, which we continued for some days and nights without serious obstacles. Although it pained me, I avoided the large green isle to the east, which my guest had warned me of in dire terms. Had he been a lesser man I might have scoffed, but as it is, I saw the wisdom in avoiding the 'Emerald Isle' for now at least.

Leaving it behind we found a narrow sea splitting the land, and as we began to sail inward, my ship found its way blocked by an immense chain of gleaming gold which stretched from shore to shore and a small armada of ships docked at the sprawling settlements on either side. These ships were of quality make, and crafted in a more normal style than the stone barges of Khem. Each ship was plated in metal, from silver, copper, and iron to more exotic types that I did not recognize.

My men and I halted the ship and raised a flag of peace, standing in the open with no weapons, and eventually, a ship, clad in silver, with sigils of the moon upon its sail came forward to a hailing distance. The sight of the sailors shocked me, for they looked like no other humans which I had ever seen. The men of Khem were swarthy in their features, and some men of Khusan were darker still, but these fellows had flesh the color of dark umber.

Like the men of Khem, their garb was light, likely on account of the hot environment of their lands. Yet what clothing they had was finely crafted cloth and immaculately cut hides. Their jewelry though! I had thought the men of Khem brightly adorned with their dyes and their bangles. Even the meanest warrior practically dripped with precious metals, not only hanging from their bodies but embedded in their flesh.

The man who came forward to speak with me was garbed in a rich robe of silver and onyx, patterned with markings similar to some symbolic representations of the phases of the moon, and wore a headwrap of deep blue-black cloth. He spoke first in a tongue I did not recognize, and then in the language which I recognized as Pyrhosian from my time with my guest. I had not had an opportunity to learn it yet though, so I was made to wait until he cycled through to Khemish.

It was obvious of course, what they wanted. In the pause he left for my response, I explained my business as an explorer and trader, seeking exotic goods and sights. He explained to me that this was the kingdom of Banu, and all who sought to walk their lands must submit to inspection at one of the chain anchor towns before being allowed into the interior. I agreed without pause, which seemed to put the man and his warriors at ease.

Later I was given to understand that the shade of our hair somewhat resembles that of the Emerald Isle men, and that those of their kind who leave their land are near uniformly terrible criminals who have been exiled because they could not easily be slain. Fortunately, I am merely a miscreant and not a savage!

With the initial confrontation out of the way, I followed the fellow and the pair of smaller copper plated craft which escorted him toward the 'gate city' on the western coast. Docking, I found the people of Banu much more staid than the passionate folk of Khem. The mortals and low cultivators which worked the docks regarded my foreign ship and countenance only with brief interest before returning to their labors.

My guide, seeming much more at ease within the sea walls of his city, explained to me the methods by which I would be inspected. Although the exact terms were different, I found myself staring in horror upon the great beast bureaucracy, whose terrible heads it seemed sprouted across the world.

You may laugh at me now.

Jesting aside, it was not a complex matter, I was to dictate my crew and cargo, and allow an inspector on board to check the veracity of my claims. It was explained to me that I could occupy a tradeshouse for up to one week, after which I would be required to pay in goods or receive a sponsor among the city's landowners.

Naturally, a charismatic fellow such as myself had no difficulty.Leaving my first mate to conduct the duller side of business, I soon found a patron. The prince of the city in fact! He was most interested in my tales from the south where only a few brave merchants dared to sail.

In his palace I made an interesting discovery, upon a tiled mural in one of his halls I ran across a depiction of a great battle, occurring out in the bay. Two great ships carrying countless foes assailed the region which would hold these gate cities, which did not have their chain. A mighty warrior shrouded in lightning, and standing astride what I may only describe as a seven headed dragon, was shown casting down the foes leader into the sea. What drew my attention though, was the sigil upon the enemy's sails.

It was the sigil of the Jing, who sailed away in their city ships long ago. It seemed perhaps that I might have discovered some part of their fate. Asking my host about it, he indicated that the figure was the first King of Banu, the mighty Mwinde. The mural depicted his final major battle, driving off 'the sea people' who attempted to colonize their shores. Histories state that the two island ships were driven north into the lands of savages and frost demons and were not seen again.

I wonder though, the Jing left with three ships, did they not? I took some further notes on the matter, dear Bond Sister, I am sure you will find the mystery more interesting. I was more interested in my host and his people. Their method of rule is much simpler than the theocratic rule of Khem. Banu is composed of a number of provinces and cities, and ruled by a king. Each city and province is ruled by a lesser member of the line of Mwinde. Strangely only the line of Mwinde is recognized as important. All other positions in society are not given automatically based upon blood. Beneath the Princes lie the Smith priests and Celestial Shaman's and beneath them, the lesser craftsmen and warriors, with the common folk supporting it all.

Not so different from a typical province of the Empire, although all major posts belonging to one family was strange. I carefully inquired of this and my host laughed and gestured to his guard, who without hesitation, swung his warblade and beheaded the Prince!

I was aghast of course, yet a moment later, the prince's crumpled body, wholly lifeless to all of my senses, twitched and convulsed briefly before standing back up placing his head back on his shoulders as if it were only a misplaced vase. The line of Mwinde ruled because they were immune to all death save that which came with time.

It was said as a young man, Mwinde had descended to the underworld to chase after the shade of his cruel father, and there he had won three contests against the god of death, though the god cheated every time. With the final attempt at a cheat, Mwinde was so incensed that he slew the god, who was so impressed by him after that he offered Mwinde his daughter's hand in marriage. Such was the genesis of the line of Mwinde.

Later, having avenged himself on his Father's shade and married his new wife, the King came to face the beast Kirimu, the dragon shown in the mural, who was a child of the sun, their battle wrought ruin, but Mwinde was deathless and with a wave of his 'swatter' (I was confused by this, but his weapon of choice seemed to be some kind of feather fan) he could raise his own warriors and command the fires of earth. Yet Kirimu was wholly invincible and no weapon or force could pierce his hide, or even the softest of his internals. Eventually after a months fruitless battle, the two came to an accord, Mwinde would see Kirimu's appetite always fed, and in return Kirimu would teach him the secrets of the sky fire and grant his warriors leave to make use of his shed scales.

Quite a legend eh? Yet there must have at least some truth to it, as the source of their cultivation is thus. They divide cultivation into two exclusive paths, terrestrial and celestial. Both are done by 'forging' the body with appropriate metals depending on the individual's path. Only the line of Mwinde may reach the highest point where the two paths become one, and their bodies are forged wholly anew with the metal which I can only call adamant.

The prince invited me to strike an ancestral shield made of the stuff, which was harvested from the sleeping dragon and shaped through certain secret arts held by the royal family. I struck, and though every window in the hall shattered under the force of my blow, it absorbed the full force without damage, dampening even the tremors that should have emanated through the ground.

It was to my senses as if an absolute void sat upon an ornate stand. I can only compare it to certain artifacts woven from our great Ancestors hairs in its potency.

Unfortunately the damage from my punch soured my stay a tad, and I was back on my ship the next day, having exchanged some of my goods for the lesser, pale blue form of adamant which was allowed to leave the country. I shall sail a little further north I think and take a look at these 'ice demons' but then I think it will be time to head back. I will see you soon Bond Sister.

Excerpt from the letters of Zheng Lu, King of Explorers

 

[yrsillar]

AN: This was an interesting Commission, based off the brief namedrop by Meizhen of an ancestor who visited Khusan, so here's a little tale from history.

Thin white clouds crawled swiftly across the clear blue sky overhead, a mirror of the whitecapped waves below. The polished red hull of the ship cut swiftly through the waters of the northern sea, and in the South, the high cliffs of the Bay of Wrath faded behind the curve of the horizon. Xiao Wen turned their eyes from the horizon above at the sound of snapping canvas, scrutinizing the quick motions of the red caste sailors as they secured the sail to catch the wind and turn to the starboard side.

The weather was good, if that held, they would be able to catch the great north current within a week.

"Sir Wen," the sailor who had been approaching from his right stopped a few strides away and spoke his name, clapping his fists together as he lowered his eyes.

Xiao Wen glanced his way. The sailor was a typical specimen of a red, wide shouldered and thick bodied. Coarse scales covered the powerfully muscled arms which stood in for his ancestors choking coils. His clothing was loose clothing and snapped in the wind and he wore a simple cloth scarf over his bald head.

"Yes boatswain?" Xiao Wen asked.

"The captain requests your presence at the prow, Sir Wen," he replied, they struck a wave, the boat rocked, but the boatswain's feet remained steady and his eyes did not rise from the deck. His mistress had a good eye for discipline, it seemed.

"Thank you, return to your duties. I expect the crew's performance to continue in excellence," Xiao Wen acknowledged, turning away to stride across the rolling deck.

The hot sea wind tugged at the braid his hair had been tied into as he headed toward the prow. Xiao Wen frowned faintly at the odd tugging sensation of his garments that came with the motion. He brushed his hand against his thigh, feeling the ripple of the black silk. He was not yet used to trousers, but although it was odd, he did not dislike it.

At the prow of the ship, standing high atop the carved serpentine figurehead, his Mistress, or rather, his captain awaited.

Bai Guzhen was a woman small in stature, as most White Serpent's were. Yet, like her kin, her presence was enormous. Xiao Wen felt the immense pressure upon her as she approached, the primal terror of approaching a true apex predator, a queen of beasts. That same aura he knew wrapped their ship, driving away the beasts which would assail lesser ships.

Yet, that is where his Mistress' similarities ended. Her white hair was shorn short, with careless cut, covered by a silk headscarf that glittered with embedded jewels. Rather than an elegant gown, she wore a sailors trousers and a loose tunic that hung freely off one shoulder, leaving half of her back and chest bare save for the tight wrapping about her chest.
Rather than immaculate paleness, the whole of her upper body was inked with elaborate stylized tattoos of stormy waters and the leviathans of the deep, the tattoos rose as high as her neck, and ran down beneath her tunic and to her lower arms.

"Xiao Wen, enjoying yourself so far?" she barked down from her perch as he stopped by the rail.

"It has been a pleasant trip, my La-," Xiao Wen began only to fall silent at a sharp look from her golden eyes. "My Captain."

Bai Guzhen grinned, flashing the gleaming bronze caps on her fangs. "That's a good lad. Come join me up here, the sea spray is invigorating."

Xiao Wen nodded in acknowledgment and bent his knees, a gentle leap carried him up onto the polished figurehead and a small tug at the winds ensured that he landed an appropriate half step behind his Mistress. Out here beyond the envelope of formation barriers which shrouded the deck, the sea salt scent of the air was much stronger, and Xiao Wen felt the moisture of the spray clinging to his skin.

Yes, although he did not share his Mistress' particular fascinations, this was not unpleasant.

"How are you adjusting from your breakthrough?" His Captain asked idly. Her gaze remained on the far horizon.

Xiao Wen glanced down at himself. His narrow flat chest, exposed by the deep necked tunic he wore, and flexed his slim, long fingered hands. Could it truly be put to words, what it felt like to look at oneself and no longer feel revulsion. To feel that for the first time in one hundred and fifty odd years that he was not being choked by his own skin? Yet, all the same there were costs. "I am well. I am only sorry for the trouble this one's nature has brought upon you, my Captain. Are you well after the arguments with your mother?"

"It is nothing to me," she replied, the slight tightness in her voice audible only to him. "Our disagreements have been rising for some time. One way or another, I would have needed to leave if I was to keep growing. Your shedding of your old self merely provided me impetus."

Xiao Wen was not so sure of that. He had been the handmaiden of the clan head's daughter, even if that daughter was a maverick unlikely to inherit. The scandal of his change had been significant.

"I hope I do not need to remind you that you are forbidden from blaming yourself. That was a direct order," Bai Guzhen said vehemently. "I would rather my companion be well in mind and body than have the approval of those fossils."

Xiao Wen merely nodded, clenching his hands. It would be untoward to show the warmth he felt in his chest on his face. Lady Guzhen was a true White Serpent, implacable in word and deed. She inspired confidence and drive in all who served her, making them achieve their greatest selves. He was truly fortunate to serve her. This was why he was so uneasy with the changes creeping into the Xiao clan.

"I cannot thrive under Mother's policies, any more than you can," Bai Guzhen said quietly, tapping her booted foot against the figurehead. "The Bai clan is declining Wen, though few care to see it. What Mother proposes for the Xiao is only the most obvious proof of that."

Xiao Wen pursed his lips. He did not approve of the proposals moving through his own clan either. The Xiao were already unlike most. He remembered fondly his childhood in the clan creches, raised by those adults of the clan most inclined to education and childrearing. He did not feel that he was lesser for not knowing the individuals whose blood had made him. However, what was being said was too much.

"It does not well serve our masters to lose the need to earn loyalty individually. It will only make the future White Serpent's and Black Vipers together lesser in character, lesser in spirit," Xiao Wen replied. "My Captain is wise."

"We are stagnating, turning in on ourselves like an idiot hatchling swallowing its own tail," Bai Guzhen said. "I can't stand to watch it any longer. That is why this journey is not your fault Wen."

He lowered his head in acknowledgement. He was truly foolish to have still harboured doubts. For Lady Guzhen, this was a matter critical to cultivation and her future. He was too arrogant and small minded in making it about himself. "What is our destination then, my Captain? Do you intend to train in the Red Garden, seek out the sages and sorcerers of the north sea for inspiration?"

"We go beyond the lands of the Red Sun," Bai Guzhen replied confidently.

"...Beyond?" Xiao Wen asked dubiously.

"Beyond," she agreed, a wide and feral grin splitting her features.

***​

Reaching the great northern current had been the easy part of their journey, the tame coastal seas regularly fished by their Violet caste brethren and the hermit folk of the Savage seas, was too well hunted to present any threats to his captain. The trouble had come naturally when they had begun to sail westward.

The curse of the Red Garden did not stop at the shore.

The overgrown mobile forests of flesh eating kelp which choked the ocean closer to its shore did not extend all the way to the waters of the current, but the many vicious beasts which had adapted to life in their confines could certainly range so far, and in the north they had not been taught the fear of the White Serpents. Although the weather remained good, Xiao Wen had lost count of the beasts which had assailed them in the two weeks it had taken to cross those blood drenched waters. Five crewman had been lost in that time and their names recorded for future honor when they returned home.

It was commonly held that there was nothing of value to be had in making this journey, simply more jungle and barbarians. Indeed, Xiao Wen's watch upon the distant shore seemed to bear that out as days turned into weeks. Even as they passed an unnamed mountain range, they found that the deep tropical greenery clung to both sides of the slopes, extending out as far as their eyes and divinations could see. Their had been a narrow inlet beyond the mountains whose rocky shore had seemed relatively clear of bloodthirsty jungle life, but cautious sailing had only brought them into contact with a barbarian warparty from a collection of dirt and clay hovels that lay at its terminus.

Lady Guzhen had wisely retreated before the stride of the titanic warrior whose six golden spears churned windstorms, and whose crimson eyes boiled the sea. Though they might have prevailed, the ship would have been damaged for nothing. Her spear and his hands had wounded the beast enough to deter a following in any case.

Although, thinking back, that the demon had retreated at all should have been a clue that something was odd.

Beyond the bay the land curved away from them forcing their ship to leave behind the current. Their ship, the Redwine was no Jin construction nor Xuan island, the open ocean and its horrors was beyond it and them.

It was here that they encountered strangeness, and it had excited his Mistress greatly. Although thick jungle still covered the land, more and more often his clairvoyance arts found gaps in the foliage where the land had been cleared for habitation. There they had seen rural villages not so different than the dryer farmlands of the southern Empire, inhabited by peoples of many mostly darker complexions. Yet he saw no sign of the accursed jungle goddesses worship there.

Even without his clairvoyance, they soon began to encounter smaller vessels with some regularity. Although their construction was strange, they were obviously fishing vessels. However, those vessels always fled before them and the Captain deemed it unwise to pursue or capture else they might bring battle where there need be none.

He had thought her overcautious at the time, surprising for his bold Mistress, but as always her wisdom bore out. As the weeks passed, he found his eyes falling upon more than meagre villages. As they rounded the western horn of the continent, he found his eyes falling upon great cities and palaces which if less than the beauty of Zhengjian, were not so much so that he could wholly dismiss their builders.

Yet, they could still only observe from afar, at least until that day in which they had sailed unto a storm.

The waves lashed the sides of the ship, nearly cresting over the rails. For once Captain Guzhen stood with him at the rail rather than upon the ship's figurehead, and her golden eyes were narrow as she gazed out at the churning sea and heavy black clouds overhead, rumbling with the fires of heaven

Xioa Wen stood at her side as the crew rushed about caring for the needs of the ship, his lips pressed together thinly as he looked out upon the sight that had caught her attention.

There in the distance he saw a great ship rising on a titanic wave. It was easily thrice the size of the Redwine with many sails and a very wide deck. At its center was a great construction of gold, bronze and jewels, strewn with wreaths of flowers that hung still despite the wind and the rain.

Tiny shapes, difficult to distinguish individually swarmed about the decks, their metal armor gleaming in the rain as they fought back against shapes that rose from the water. The wind howled, drowning out his hearing as he observed the dark tendrils of some leviathan curled about the prow of the ship, and between the swells of the waves he caught sight of the shapeless mass beneath the water, and the three immense figures in armor of living coral who stood on its rubbery hide, and even now grasped at the ships rails.

Thunder crashed without lightning and the Sea Kings, or princes perhaps, halted in their advance upon the decks as something metallic cut through the air leaving bloody craters in rubbery hide. There upon the deck, standing before the jeweled container was a foreign man. A star burned upon his brow and the light of a thousand petalled lotus burned in an immense banner of light behind his back. His twelve arms were a blur wielding something like metal whips, weaving a cage of thunderous bursts in a wide circle as he fought against the leviathan and its riders all at once.

Yet as a tremendous wave swept across the deck, sweeping it nearly clean it was clear that he was being pushed back.

"My captain," Xiao Wen said dully. "I can perceive your thoughts."

"Hmhm, it is good to have a wise companion," Bai Guzhen replied, rolling her shoulders, her expression was cast in dark green light, the venom infusing the caps upon her fangs gleaming in the dark. "Battle is the universal tongue. To aid civilized folk against the barbarians beneath the waves. This will be understood, no matter their ways."

"This is truth, but not all act properly upon gratitude," Xiao Wen warned, but he was already rolling his shoulders, and around his feet his shadow bent into a wide spiral, the crimson eyes of his little cousin blooming in the dark.
"Then we might slay them too, and have our artifacts for study," the captain said with a sniff, across her back the tattooed waves began to heave and flow, the crash of a second sea reverberating with the noise of the first. "And it will be assumed that they were lost to their own barbarians."

"Of course Captain," Xiao Wen sighed. She was not wrong, yet still he misliked the risk. His gaze fixed upon one of the coral clad sea men, Nine meters tall. No dorsal growth. Limbs out of proportion with human norm. Octopod base? Troublesome, likelihood of nonstandard organ and channel placement was high. "Will you at least allow this one to strike ahead?"

"No, we will strike together," Bai Guzhen replied. Her eyes burned in the darkness as she extended a hand, and the first of her own leviathans swam from her tattoos into the water below. Her pressure grew, and she rose above him on coils of abyssal water, her petite frame towering higher as the mantle of their great ancestor overtook her.

"A true White Serpent is at the head of the spear."

Xiao Wen smiled to himself as the waves tore apart in her wake, and the shadows in the water multiplied. The Redwine rocked as he vanished from her deck in a rising cyclone of shadow.

And behind them a longsuffering crew worked most vigorously to keep the ship from capsizing in the intensifying storm.