Tales of Destiny

Ran Fen had found things getting easier as the night wore on. It had helped to be invited to the adults' table, where the Matriarch had demanded she share stories of her son while he was not here to protest. His glories… and his foibles. In this, Ran Fen ‘betrayed’ her friend with no regrets, much to the chuffing laughter of his mother.

But, as amusing as hearing his complaints about being interrogated over certain ‘incidents’ would be later, it still had not filled the night. She had found her conversation though, chatting away with a passing young doe, and a handful of rather lovely birds interested in the source and make of her hair ornaments.

It was well and late, though, the sun beginning to peak back over the horizon. She was beginning to worry a bit for Rixiong, who had been absent for so long. His mother had made the task sound like a simple retrieval from a clan vault, but…

Out of the corner of her eye she caught the Matriarch raising her huge head, taking a deep snuffling breath that rattled the ornaments woven into her shaggy fur. She followed the great bear's gaze. There at the edge of the clearing, she spotted a human silhouette. Rixiong, walking at a slow and thoughtful trudge.

He had an immense spear put over his shoulders; it looked more like a small log, for all the gleam of its bronze head, wavering through the early morning air with his stride.

Well, that was quite a treasure, by the looks of it, if awkward to wield if you weren’t some kind of near giant, but…

She saw Father’s expression go slightly slack as he stared at Rixiong. Ran Fen flicked her eyes back to her friend, focused her senses on the qi in the air, and…

The cup of watered wine in her hand fell to the flagstones, shattering.

What.

Rixiong grinned at the party and waved to his mother. “I have returned in success, Mother. Please, let me introduce you to Yongqi! He is very old.”

“Seasoned, brat! But what in all the hells has happened to the Noontide Palace?! There’s barely any of it left!”

***

Rixiong’s mouth was dry. He rarely spoke at such length! And even if he did not have the best understanding of the subject, it did fill the time on the journey back south.

“...It’s not good to lie, you know. It's unworthy of a Zenith disciple. D’you think you can get out of your exercises just by leading me on with silly stories?” Yongqi rattled, laid diagonally against the bench and wall on the other side of the carriage. He barely fit, but the spear had grudgingly shrunk and adjusted enough to fit in, refusing the ‘indignity’ of a storage ring.

Rixiong scowled at him, crossing his arms. Yongqi was very gruff, but questioning his honor was too much. “I tell no lie, nor would I shirk! The Weilu clan vanished, each and every one. They were succeeded by the Xi clan, and then the Hui, and finally, by the Cai.”

Yongqi had been put out to find that ‘Weilu’ was the common term. In the past it had been the way that the imperials referred to the clans of the forest, rather than their name for themselves. To Yongqi they were the Horned Folk, or the Forest People.

“Those meatheads got put in charge? Who decided that?!” Yongqi exclaimed incredulously. “I like a scrap as much as the next spear, but those brawlers…”

“It was the Emperor, I think. There was a great civil war among the clans when the Weilu disappeared; the Xi were backed to end the bloodletting,” Rixiong said. He did not know much history himself, knowing only the bare outlines of events, picked up from conversation. “Sir Yongqi, I must demand your apology though!”

“Huh, apology? You… feh, you’re not wrong, calling you a liar and a laggard was too much, my surprise doesn't excuse that, disciple.” The qi in the carriage churned, the spear’s rough voice briefly lapsing into something more formal.

“Feh, those imperials picking winners, it sticks in my craw! The conclave shoulda been deciding things like that, but then, most of ‘em pissed off apparently. That Dreaming Way business… I never liked it! But our Horned Lord musta known what he was up to… My last wielder was grumbly about the clan, stuck to hunting monsters and demons out on the edges, keeping the pacts with the Hillfolk. Never had a head for those chatty things myself.”

“I can seek out more histories for you?” Rixiong questioned.

“Maybe, maybe,” Yongqi grumbled. “I remember a couple of Hui’s, never seemed the sort to rule anything, heads in the clouds, painters and poets. Who are this Cai bunch then? Never heard of ‘em.”

Rixiong sucked in a breath through his teeth. That was more recent and something even he couldn’t fail to pick up. “...It started with the invasion of the Cloud Tribes, I think.”

“Eh, invasion? From those sheep rustling horse dung sniffers? My last wielder gave ‘em plenty of what for, driving ‘em off the Hill tribe herds, but an invasion?!”

Rixiong sighed. He really wasn't the one best equipped for this.

***

“... It's a solid feeling defense,” Yongqi said as Rixiong stepped off the carriage, out into the courtyard of the Argent Peak Sect.

Filling his lungs with the pure mountain air, so clear and sharp with just the hint of lightning qi felt good in his lungs. It wasn’t home, but it was not a distant second, if Rixiong was honest.

“S’pose one who got the Patriarch of the South on his side ain’t to be taken lightly,” Yongqi continued. “Boy, you got me off balance, not gonna lie, but I won’t be letting up from here on. I might not get everything that happened, but I do know a man of the blood still has his duties! I’ll be making sure you live up to it from here on out, got it, kid? Gonna make you the best damn warrior of the Forest People this era will know, I swear it on my source, Verdant Thunder Of the Spring Vales, great grandchild of our Horned Lord.”

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

“Understood, instructor!” Rixiong said. Already, he could see a handful of Inner disciples staring at the spear on his shoulder, and felt other attention as a ticklish tingle on the back of his neck. He had a feeling there was going to be some trouble!

But he’d face it head on, just like everything else.

***

He had been right. Yongqi had attracted a lot of attention. He had even been asked to attend to an Elder of the Sect, a man named Zhuge Ke, who had spoken to both him and Yongqi. His concerns were reasonable, but Yongqi had assured him with something about ‘training locks’ which would prevent a student from abusing powers they had not earned. Rixiong was fine with this, as who would want all of their strength to come from a crutch?

But Yongqi had also made clear he would not be leaving Rixiong’s hands. The spear had chosen to be wielded by him at the vault, and to break the binding inherent in that would break Yongqi himself. Rixiong was his student and wielder and that would last until he passed.

…Elder Zhuge had given Rixiong a concerned look at that, but surely the blood of their ancestors would never produce someone so dishonorable as that!

And that had been that, though he often felt eyes upon him. He did not have much time to think on it though, as with the Sect at war, Yongqi had plunged him immediately into harsh training, with body refining techniques far more effective than anything he had used before!

The Inner Sect was not a bad place at all he found, full of helpful seniors. Brother Wang Chao especially was a jolly fellow, and his parties were actual parties! Not the dull thing he had feared when he was first invited.

“Such tales you have. It is good to hear the old trails of the Central Valley are still so lively, Junior Brother,” the young woman speaking was very stately, with a strong bearing and fierce markings. She reminded him of the wolves he had run with as a child under Hujian’s tutelage.

“You should visit someday, Senior Sister Alingge. I am certain Mother would welcome you,” Rixiong said. Yongqi was holstered on his back, and he bounced the hefty weight of the spear restlessly, eyes darting over to the games and play battles underway at the center of the rolling field Brother Wang’s group had made their festival ground.

Yongqi had been taciturn lately, since he had agreed to meetings with Elder Zhuge to talk about history.

The hart Alingge leaned on, standing over them both snorted, leaning down to nuzzle her nose against his cheek. Rixiong blinked, reaching up to pat the beast's neck. Alingge smiled wanly.

“I appreciate the invitation, Brother Rixiong, but only our mortal caravans may enter the Central Valley, and even then, it is forbidden to leave the roads. I would not make such trouble for your mother.”

“N’why’d you be barred from walking the trails, young Miss?” Yongqi spoke up, to Rixiong’s surprise.

Alingge considered the artifact. Even she had stared at the spear unblinking for several moments when they had first met. Rixiong did not quite know what to make of her expression at that time, but she had soon shaken it off to ask him about his forest.

“The cultivation of the Hill tribes is disruptive to the order of settled lands,” she said slowly. “Our lords among the Luo kindly take on the cost of supporting this, but the Diao do not make these allowances.”

“Mother had spoken of the Hill tribes as brothers and sisters of the Forest People, that seems so strange to me,” Rixiong said. Yongqi rattled in his harness, but did not speak.

“Allies of old, but distant ones, the men of the Forest and the Hills were never meant to mingle too closely. Each had their own garden to tend.”

Rixiong turned to the source of the voice, eyes briefly lingering on a large ring scratched into the dirt, where two disciples, one of them brother Wang, shoved and wrestled at each other, seeking to push the other out of the ring with nothing but their simple strength and leverage. In another ring, Zhengyi raised her fists, grinning fiercely at a wary looking Inner disciple.

He hoped the games would still be ongoing for a while longer…

The speaker was tall and whip-thin, with a narrow face and long straight hair. He wracked his brain for Ran Fen’s lessons on important figures in the Inner Sect. “Oh? That is not my understanding. Sir… Meng? I don’t think that is quite right!”

“It is understandable that beasts, even exalted Matriarchs such as your mother, might not fully understand the nuances of human tribes,” Meng De replied. “The same way that men might not understand the details of where one spirit's domain ends and another begins.”

“You would call it a misunderstanding then? It is not just Mother though, many at the Sect say this, why the Mountain folk of old have even been rediscovered,” Rixiong questioned, furrowing his brow.

“Attempting to blur the lines between the ancestors is unfortunately in vogue right now,” Meng De said. “Smearing history to paint the image of an Emerald Seas and beyond where all may claim one legacy.”

“...I find the evidence convincing. As our Lord of Trails, and King of Tricks ranged far, spoke and laughed with all things, Great Tsu did as well, this is why he was welcome at our fires, and why our warriors joined his at Xiangmen’s foot,” Alingge said quietly.

Meng De gave her a sharp look. “It is not your place to say such, lady Alingge. Please do not confuse Brother Rixiong as to the nature of things. He has been chosen for a great legacy. The Hill folk were ever a subordinate people, left to your own devices, yes as long as the bounds of old pacts were respected. The legacy of Tsu was Unity, harmony, purity, the ordering and dividing of the world, not merely gamboling about playing pranks and bringing chaos like your ancestors. There is a reason the Xi were required to...”

“Boy.”

Rixiong nearly jumped out of his skin at the boom that sounded right beside his ear. Yongqi had been jittering for some time, but had slowly grown more and more still. Rixiong had almost forgotten he was there.

It was loud, the sound of the spear’s voice like a gust of wind, and silenced much of the sound of the party as heads turned to the source.

“Close your fool mouth before you pass any more wind through it. You want to speak for the Forest People, while dribbling shit from your face about our brothers in the hills? Go to the Bountiful Earth’s shrine and kowtow until you crack your skull, brat.”

Meng De blinked, his mouth open, looking like he’d just been slapped.

“I don’t know nothin bout the Mountain folk, they migrated south, outta contact before I was carved, but I know now the great shame ya’ll have inflicted on kin. Callin’ yourself ‘Weilu this’ ‘Weilu that’ while actin like a bunch of prissy imperials. Feh! How the hell’d all the wrong lessons of the Mason’s War get carried forward!”

Even Alingge was staring at that outburst. Rixiong shifted from foot to foot, the weight of the attention making him sweat despite his cultivation.

He didn’t need Ran Fen to tell him this was probably going to make trouble.