It was in the 90th year of the Sun Dynasty that the stranger came to the Opal Hills. This very fact was the cause for apprehension, a good amount of concern, and just a bit of fear. The Opal Hills were not a place of great renown within the empire. It was a mountainous region, with roads that were made more by habit than by imperial order, dirt paths that snaked around ravines and were connected by rickety old bridges that the local governor refused to see repaired. A handful of lonely farms fed, like dying streams, to a village which shared the Opal Hills' name.

In truth, the Opal Hills were a mundane curiosity, and not the sort that any scholar looked to with any passing interest. The inhabitants hardly knew of winter. The farms provided rice well enough. The water from the rivers was cool and clean. The spirits that lived in the forests that marked the mountains were benign and polite, provided one knew the most basic rituals of respect.

It was, as it had been for many years, a peaceful place.

Which was why it was hardly looked upon. The Opal Hills were low on Anri, the Myriad Energies, and thus, while a peaceful region of the world, it was not a place of violent ambition. Not many figures of note visited the tucked away mountain valleys. Emperor Sun Rao, Slayer of a Thousand Techniques, Grandmaster of the Solar Dance Sect, had not even needed to send an army to bring the Opal Hills under his control. Old Lifeng, one of those few elders still alive to have seen the Emperor in his zenith, described him walking up the snaking roads to speak to the town's mayor. The conversation was behind closed doors, took all of an hour, and the Emperor left the mayor with the Opal Hills newly under the imperial flag.

No, the Opal Hills were left well and alone. And the locals preferred this. They paid their taxes. They did not break imperial law. What excess they grew they would bring down to Old Gate City, the capital of the province, to sell for a few meager coins to save for new tools, or perhaps to fix the hole in the roof of Guo Kenan's inn. Children were taught to respect the spirits. To respect their elders. To teach the next generation the lessons passed down from their parents, who had learned it from their parents, all in an interlocking chain that was first forged thousands of years before.

So it caused some stirring when the stranger in blue arrived from beyond the mountains and plains.

The first two to see him were Wang Ro the Younger and Pan Bao. Two of the children from the town proper, Wang Ro the Younger was around ten, Pan Bao nearing eleven (a fact that she held over Wang Ro's head at all times.)

Both of them had, as children of around this age are wont to do, been pushing their luck. The limits of their freedom. They had decided to explore outside the town today, into the calm wilds. They had been picking at wild flowers near the road near Li Bai's farm when they spotted him. The stranger. Wang Ro was the first of them to take note, tugging at Pan Bao and pointing the traveler out. The two of them ran over to a bush that overlooked the path, watching as the stranger passed them by, without any apparent notice.

He was dressed in loose traveler's robes with a blue cloak, a walking stick in hand. His hair was balled up in a bun, as was the style of the time, tied together with a simple cloth with a bronze symbol lapelled on its front.

But what set Wang Ro the Younger off were his eyes. A brilliant, burning blue. Wang Ro the Elder, Wang Ro the Younger's father, had told him of a type of Anri technique in Old Gate City. Spheres of glass, in which Anri was poured, from fire to ice to lightning, to be lobbed at one's enemies in times of conflict. The man's eyes were like those spheres, the way he looked out at the path. A storm held in silica.

The man also carried no weapon. This meant that he was a warrior who used his fists and legs, elbows and feet, in combat. No doubt a practitioner from one sect or another.

“We should go, Wang Ro,” Pan Bao whispered in his ear. Her voice was tight with an apprehension Wang Ro had only heard once from her before, when they had heard a bear stalking through the woods one night, “We should get my father.”

“I don't think the man's seen us,” Wang Ro said, “Do you think he's dangerous?”

“He could be a bandit,” Pan Bao said, “Or maybe a rival to the White Flame Sect. You know how Grandmaster Zhou talks about the past.”

A rival sect could mean trouble. Could mean conflict. When two sects met, their battles often devastated the region, so great was their power. Even a place low in Anri like the Opal Hills could be destroyed by their techniques and arts.

“He doesn't look like a bandit,” Wang Ro said, and he struggled to form an image of one in his head, all knives and yellow-toothed grins and smelly. No, this stranger did not have the bearing of a brigand.

“Let's just go,” Pan Bao said, “Come on!”

The man was already past their hiding spot now, continuing on the mountain path towards the town. At one point, he stopped, taking a rest and leaning on his walking stick to survey the landscape before him. The two children took this chance to skip off. They knew the land around the town, and were able to take small shortcuts to cut down on time. They ran into the town, beelining for the mayor's manor.

***

Pan Bao's father was Pan Baihu, a middle-aged man whose ancestors had founded the small town back when the Opal Hills were rich with precious minerals. He lived out of his run-down manor with his wife and daughter, always dressed in his luxurious silk robes that his forebears had bought when the Pan family was far richer and had direct ties to the trade in Old Gate City. He was a bit plump, pleasantly so, for his family enjoyed far richer foods than the rest of the Opal Hills due to their status, and it gave him a complexion that he claimed made him look like Qin Da the Conqueror, the First Unifier. He smiled his too-wide smile at the arrival of Pan Bao and Wang Ro the Younger...

And his smile immediately disappeared as soon as the word 'stranger' left his daughter's lips.

“A stranger?” he said, “Well, they come occasionally. Is he a bandit? Are you alright?”

“I am fine, father,” Pan Bao said, “But-”

“But he looks like he comes from a sect,” Wang Ro the Younger interceded, “He might be a rival to Grandmaster Zhou.”

“I... see,” Pan Baihu said, and he bit his lower lip, thinking, “And you said he's coming here?”

Wang Ro the Younger nodded. Pan Baihu thought for a moment, bringing up a hand to stroke his long, thin beard.

“Very well,” he said, “Pan Bao, go get Grandmaster Zhou. Wang Ro, go get your father. The three of us will go together to meet his stranger, to see if his intentions are good.”

The two children nodded. Bowed. Scampered off. Pan Baihu's heart was beginning to thunder, and he found himself drifting over to his room, where sat on a stand his family's ceremonial armor and sword. He took the sword in hand, feeling it. He had never used it before, had only occasionally sent it out to Old Gate City to have it polished and sharpened.

But this stranger in blue was having an effect on him. His mind was catastrophizing, and going to the worst case scenario. Perhaps he should have told his daughter to have Grandmaster Zhou bring Tai Haoran, his protege, as well. Extra muscle never hurt anyone.

No. He was the mayor of the Opal Hills. He would command the stranger by voice alone.

But, nonetheless, he tied the blade to his side. It felt unnatural at his hip.

***

Grandmaster Zhou Winyan was the head of the White Flame sect, an order of Anri users who had sequestered themselves to the Opal Hills after the War of the Sovereign Horse. A war where almost every single user of the White Flame Technique had been wiped out by Emperor Sun Rao. To say that the old man was bitter was an understatement. He and his two students lived up the hill from the town, in an old monastery, the last bastion of the White Flame. He was a small man, bent over with age, and he walked with a pronounced limp across the stone courtyard of the monastery. His two pupils, Tai Haoran and Xiao Rai, were sparring with each other as Pan Bao arrived. She had been running up the staircase that led up to the monastery, and she was out of breath as Grandmaster Zhou wobbled over to her. She bowed to him quickly.

“What is it, pup?” Grandmaster Zhou asked.

“My father requests for you,” Pan Bao said, “A stranger has come to town.”

“A stranger?” Grandmaster Zhou said, “Peh! And why would that involve me?”

“The stranger, he has no weapon,” Pan Bao said, “I-I think he's an Anri user.”

“You think?” Grandmaster Zhou said, “Or your father?”

Pan Bao froze up at that. Grandmaster Zhou was glaring at her, his face taut with a frown. The old man was not one to involve himself with the town. Only the occasional conversation with Wang Ro the Elder, on advice for the physician's projects. But the fact that the mayor was calling for him...

And this was a potential Anri user. A potential member of a rival sect.

“Very well,” Grandmaster Zhou said, “Tai Haoran! Xiao Rai!”

His students, at once, stopped their sparring. Ran to their master's side, bowed.

“Yes, teacher?” Xiao Rai said.

“I'm going down to the village. Keep watch over the monastery. Watch for trouble.”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“Do you need me to accompany you, teacher?” Xiao Rai, ever eager, asked.

“Peh!” Grandmaster Zhou said, “I don't need some bumbling girl to watch over me, like I'm two days from death. Tend to your chores, Xiao Rai, and make sure the monastery is safe.”

And he left the monastery, going down the long stone staircase to the town, and though he walked with a limp and a wobble, he did not let that stop him. Pan Bao walked behind him, careful to not get in his way.

Tai Haoran looked over to Xiao Rai, a sneer on his face.

“Accompany him?” he said, “He is right, Xiao Rai. He's not some sick dog. You try to impress yourself upon him too much.”

Xiao Rai glared at him.

“Look to your own training, Tai Haoran,” she said, “Leave me be.”

He snorted, turned and walked off. As the junior member of the White Flames sect, most of the chores of the day fell to Xiao Rai, and so he was free to relax and train as he saw fit.

Xiao Rai glanced back to the staircase. Already Grandmaster Zhou was a small, ugly dot below. He talked about protecting the monastery, but no danger ever came to the Opal Hills.

He had given his students a worthless order.

***

Wang Ro the Elder was the town's physician. A man fifty years in age, but with the appearance of someone far younger, he was practically revered as a spirit for his skill in medicines and maladies. Tall and thin, he always wore the white robes of a healer as he went about his day, his hair tied back in a long tail, procuring medicines and seeing his various patients for their various ills, some of them traveling from the other side of the mountains to see him.

He was working at his desk on some paperwork to send out to one of his contacts when his son, Wang Ro the Younger, came inside. Wang Ro the Elder adjusted his glasses, quickly flipped the paper over so his studious son would not see what he had been writing, and rose. Younger bowed to Elder.

“What is it, my son?” he asked.

“A stranger, father,” Wang Ro the Younger said.

“A stranger?” Wang Ro the Elder said, “Is he hurt?”

“No, but the mayor wants you to accompany him,” Wang Ro the Younger said, “They think the stranger is an Anri user.”

“I'm afraid I won't be of much help, there,” Wang Ro the Elder said. But he was already gathering his things, making a note to take his paper and fold it away into his desk, “Has Grandmaster Zhou been notified?”

“Yes, father,” Wang Ro the Younger said.

“Hmm,” Wang Ro the Elder turned, looked at his son, “Did you get a good look at him?”

“I did.”

“And what are your impressions?”

“He doesn't look like a bandit,” Wang Ro the Younger said, “He looks like an Anri user?”

“Just an Anri user?” Wang Ro the Elder said, “Or, perhaps, more?”

His son went silent. Wang Ro the Elder smiled, and placed a hand on his child's head.

“The world is far more vast than bandits and Anri,” he said, “There are more possibilities than there are stars in the sky. How do you know who a man is, without asking him?”

Wang Ro the Younger fell silent. Nodded.

“Come,” Wang Ro the Elder said, “Let us go see who this stranger is. No doubt Pan Baihu is in a way about it.”

He winked to Wang Ro the Younger, and the two of them walked out of his small home and towards the town square.

***

Guo Kenan tended to the town's only inn. It was a lonely place, supported more by the drink he provided than by the beds he offered. Farmers from across the Opal Hills congregated here at least once a week to drink a hard day's work away, and a few elders came in every night to sip at rice wine and regale each other with stories they had told a thousand times. Guo Kenan was preparing some lunch for himself when he heard the door open.

“You're early, Lo Qiu,” he said, “Easy day today?”

He peeked into the main room of the inn.

To see the stranger in blue.

“Oh!” Guo Kenan said, “A visitor. Welcome.”

He stepped over to the bar, where the stranger had set himself down. A young man, maybe around twenty, with electric blue eyes and an angry sort of smile that set Guo Kenan on edge.

“Welcome, sir,” Guo Kenan said, “May I interest you in anything?”

“Something strong,” the stranger said, “Been traveling all day.”

“Ah, I see, I see,” Guo Kenan said. He poured out some rice wine into a small cup, passed it to the stranger, who flipped him a coin in response. Guo Kenan looked at it. It was an imperial silver. Usually most travelers paid in bronze.

But, it was money. Guo Kenan shrugged.

“May I ask where you're coming from?” he asked the stranger.

To this, the stranger shrugged.

“Just Old Gate City,” he said, “Here on business.”

“Business,” Guo Kenan said, and the answer sounded strange. No stranger came here on 'business.'

The man sipped the rice wine. Gave Guo Kenan a polite smile, though there was a look in his eye, a harsh warning to stop asking him questions.

“I'll need a room for the time being,” he said, “I have money to pay in advance, or I can pay by the day. Up to you.”

“Better by the day,” Guo Kenan said, “I'll see to-”

And the door opened again. The mayor, Pan Baihu, entered with Grandmaster Zhou Winyan and the town's physician, Wang Ro the Elder. The three men filed into the room, arrayed themselves in such a way that they blocked the stranger from the door.

At once the stranger in blue was on guard. His frown dropped.

“Hey,” he said, “'Sup.”

The three men shifted uncomfortably, looking at one another. They had all come to confront this mysterious traveler, each of them building a different image in their minds – a demon, a rival, a drifter. Now confronted with this... person, they were unsure of how to start.

Finally, Pan Baihu spoke up.

“Welcome to the Opal Hills, traveler,” he said, enriching his voice with an attempt at authority, “I am this town's mayor, Pan Baihu.”

The stranger gave a quick, almost reluctant bow. Pan Baihu smiled, though it was forced.

“With me are Grandmaster Zhou of the White Flame sect, and our town's physician, Wang Ro the Elder.”

“Nice to meet you both,” the stranger said, “I'm not of any sect, and I'm feeling fine.”

“Ah,” Wang Ro the Elder said, “That is good. No need for a checkup, then?”

“Nah,” the stranger said, shrugging again, “I'm good. Thanks, though.”

Wang Ro nodded politely at that. Grandmaster Zhou's eyes narrowed, attempting to detect if the stranger was emanating any ambient Anri.

He was, but it was strange. He could not explain it.

“We were wondering why you were here, in our little town,” Pan Baihu continued, “For you see, we see very few travelers in these parts. One must always watch for danger.”

The stranger's smile became more guarded. His eyes narrowed.

“My business is my own,” he said.

“I'm afraid I must insist, sir,” Pan Baihu said. There was an edge to his voice.

Guo Kenan looked to the stranger, then to the mayor, then to Grandmaster Zhou. The old man was leaning back, breathing in and out in a rapid way. To summon up Anri. To prepare in its use, if action was required.

Perhaps the stranger picked up on that. Perhaps he picked up on the veiled threat in Pan Baihu's voice. For he shrugged.

“Alright,” he said, “If you're looking for anything juicy, I'm afraid you've got the wrong guy. I'm a researcher from the Three Sons Trading Company. I've been sent out here to do some research on the local flora and fauna. Nothing major.”

“I... see,” Pan Baihu said, and he deflated a bit. Wang Ro the Elder spoke up now.

“What sort of flora and fauna?” he asked, “Anything interesting?”

“Oh, a couple species of wildflower, the habits of the bears around here, nothing major,” the stranger said, “You're a physician, right? You got anything on the plants out here?”

“I've a few books, and I believe the library will have something to assist you,” Wang Ro the Elder said, and this time his smile was genuine. He believed the stranger.

“Look,” the stranger said, “I don't want to cause any trouble. I'm aware that it's not every day that someone comes out here, right? I'll mostly be doing research, or surveying the landscape. I'll keep out of your hair.”

“Out of... my hair,” Pan Baihu said.

“It's... an expression,” the stranger said, “Figure of speech.”

“I see,” Pan Baihu said. Wang Ro the Elder's eyebrows were raised. Grandmaster Zhou snorted.

“Just a damned researcher,” he muttered, “I take my leave.”

And he walked out of the inn.

“Come to me, sir, if you need anything,” Wang Ro the Elder said, “I am more than happy to assist a fellow student of the world.”

He gave the stranger a bow. Gave a nod to Pan Baihu, and made his leave as well. Pan Baihu was giving the stranger a hard look. He was not one to be so defeated by such things as simple explanation. He needed to show this stranger where authority lay.

“I am warning you, young man,” he said, “Cause no trouble.”

“I told you, I'm not going to,” the stranger said, his brow furrowing.

“G-Good,” Pan Baihu said, “Good. I'll be watching you. For the sake of people knowing who is in town, so they don't get too riled up, may I have your name?”

And the stranger nodded.

“Zheng Jo,” he said.

****

And Pan Baihu made his leave. Guo Kenan, who was nervous of this new visitor to the Opal Hills, showed him to his room. It would be paid for by the day, at the beginning of the day, three copper pieces in the morning. Joseph made sure to count out his coin. Yes, he would have enough, but he would probably need to get back to Old Gate City at some point to exchange some of the silver. A day's journey, but it was an uneventful trip.

Joseph was glad for that. Uneventful meant peaceful. Meant safe. Safety, as of late, had been a stranger to him.

Guo Kenan showed him his room, a sparse little place with a shelf bed and a desk. Despite the fact that so few travelers made it out to the Opal Hills, the innkeeper was evidently a meticulous man, as there wasn't even the barest hint of dust as Joseph inspected his living space. This room would be his home for the time being. For perhaps the next few weeks.

“Dinner's on the house,” Guo Kenan said, “Come on down in the evening, we'll get something for you.”

“Thanks,” Joseph said, and he smiled at him. Guo Kenan was curious, but most innkeepers were. He had seemed satisfied enough by Joseph's cover story, and despite his nervousness was calming down. Joseph hadn't burnt down the inn yet, had he?

The innkeeper bowed, and closed the door as he left, leaving Joseph alone.

Joseph put down his pack, unclasped his cloak, stretched and winced for a moment, before walking over and opening the window. Cool mountain air crisped into the room. Joseph sat down on the shelf bed, letting out a relieved sigh as he did so. His legs ached from the full day's worth of travel, for he had set out early in the morning, before the sun had even risen. Never mind the fact that he had only arrived on this plane a few days before, and had trekked all the way from the Traveling Point down south. Old Gate City had been a welcome reprieve. A chance to unwind. To have a few drinks, to get his cover story straight.

Joseph undid his bun. He had been letting his hair grow long, in preparation for this job, and it felt odd as it fell to his shoulders. The use of his last name before his first, like how his Nai Nai had presented herself, felt strange in his head. He would get used to it, but it would take time.

For he was not, truly, Zheng Jo.

He was Joseph Zheng. A metahuman. A member of the Amber Foundation, a guild in the multiverse. The plane he was on was unknown. It did not exist in official High Federation archives, and did not know about the greater multiverse outside of its walls.

And he was here to find a Son of Darwin.