XJ-V stared blankly at his Master Longhua’s grinning face.
“Master?”
“Do your metal ears deceive you?” Longhua asked. “I said you shall be making me tea.”
The Cog didn’t move an appendage. His mind searched for any way in which the Master’s strange request made sense. Everything he knew about the Qi ran through his synthetic brain and came up short. He simply couldn’t see any connection between the force of power that ran through all living things and the warm beverage popular with men of the Sects.
So he fumbled, as was becoming regular for him.
“But…how does that..?”
“You have asked enough questions,” Longhua interrupted him massively with a swish of his long-sleeved arm. “Now it is time for you to learn.”
XJ-V nodded slowly, waiting for the next instruction from his Master. When none was forthcoming, both men simply sat in the chamber in silence for a time as the great mosaic of the coiling Eternal Dragon watched them.
“Master,” XJ-V finally said.
“Yes?”
“To make tea, I require tea leaves and a pot to boil them in.”
Longhua laughed like a chipper child. “Oh! How silly of me,” he said. “I seem to have forgotten the ingredients. Perhaps you could fetch them for me?”
As XJ-V blinked his strobe-eyes at the Master, he suddenly felt movement to his left. He gave a start before realizing that it was the wall of the chamber that was moving – a section twisting and carving itself away like a craftsman whittling down a piece of wood. Where once the stone wall stood bearing the symbol of their Sect, now a realm of pitch darkness stretched out – seemingly endless. A realm of silence.
“You will find what you seek within,” Longhua explained. “I await your brew.”
XJ-V looked quizzically at the Master, who’s emotions would always be hidden from the Cog. He stood, craned his neck, and looked towards the realm of inky nothing that he was being harried towards.
“What lies within?” he asked, knowing it was foolish to even ponder.
Longhua simply shrugged. “That is for you to know, if you truly do have eyes to see.”
All at once XJ-V felt a significant sense of motion – like he was being pulled towards the colorless realm. His legs began moving of their own accord even as his whole body lurched, telling him to twist and turn away.
When he stood on the threshold between this world and what lay beyond, he took a deep breath of air that he knew would not serve him and stepped forward.
…
His sensors buzzed, his brain strained.
For a while all vision was nothing but a haze of colorless static.
Then: something. A sound. A song?
Yes…a melody assailed him as he walked in a blanket on dark, a formless void where light could not shine. The melody…of birdsong.
With the melody came a sense of direction. He knew it even as he bumbled about in the dark: he was moving towards something – something that flashed brilliantly, dazzlingly in the distance. Behind his eyes he saw colors burst into exuberant life – passionate reds, blooming violets, tranquil sapphires – so that it took all the strength within his frame not to drop to his knees and allow himself to be overwhelmed by the explosion of pure sensation. He felt his sensors overload with the raw power of registering all the stimuli.
Then, at the apex of his pain, he opened his eyes.
It took his mechanized brain some time to catch up with the sight that stretched before him, and it took an even longer stretch of time for him to actually commit himself to movement. Gone was Ramor-Tai. Gone was the mountain he had braved to find his Master. Gone was the world of the Wasteland, and, perhaps more distressing, gone was the doorway he had just emerged through.
Around him stretched an image of paradise. He was standing at the edge of a garden grove surrounded by willows and blooming shrubs. Flowers he could not identify gleamed within the bushes at the foots of the trees and a calm, serene wind blew air in his face that felt otherworldly. His nasal sensors breathed it in, and he suddenly realized what it was: pure air. Untainted by the normal CO2 emissions that clouded the skies of the Wasteland, and lacking the distinct taste of sulphur that one had to get used to when walking the ashen lands. It slowly dawned on XJ-V that he was breathing the air of the Old World for the first time – something most people of the Wastes could only dream of.
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He saw no landmarks in front of him except a simple path lined in glistening white marble that led deeper into the forest. Having no alternative route, he decided to begin following the path, watching for any signs of movement within the willows and the brush.
The skies above were crystal clear, wisps of white clouds streaked across only small patches of the deep blue heaven like puffs from a tired dragon’s snout. XJ-V was so distracted by all these new sights and sensations that he almost forgot the mission his Master had given him: he was here to collect ingredients for tea, was he not?
His feet stopped on the marble brickwork abruptly.
But where exactly is here?
So consumed had he suddenly become by this intruding thought that he did not hear the rustling of leaves behind his back.
And why does it feel so famil-
He stopped to spin and catch the projectile that had just been launched at him from within one of the willows above. He crushed the rock within his fingers and let nothing but sand fall from his hand.
“Show yourself,” he commanded, scanning the tops of the lush, green trees all around him.
A flurry of childish giggles answered him.
“Tee-hee! Metal-man! Metal-man!”
The voice sounded like that of a child – or at least some kind of overgrown monkey – for as XJ-V tried to follow the speaker’s voice he heard giggles and great whoops of excitement issue from all around him, as though the entity could project its voice and make the trees themselves talk.
“Is the metal-man confused?” it said with another mischievous giggle. “We have never had a metal man come here before, have we, sisters?”
“Nooooooooo,” came at least three more voices from the low-hanging eaves. “He is new. He is interesting.”
XJ-V lowered his guard. He had heard that certain places in the Wasteland were filled with devious creatures. Yaoguai- entities that sought to trick and to deceive travelers. For what purpose they did this, XJ-V could only wonder. How can the mind of a machine understand the will of a ghost?
“Metal-Man, Metal-man,” one of the trickster voices called again. “Why come you to our fair lan’?”
XJ-V spoke only to the small, slight rustling of the leaves above. “Can you tell me where I am?” he asked.
More giggles assailed him from every direction.
“By the twitching of my toe!” the voices answered in unison. “Can it be he does not know? Comes he to mortal treasure trove, and he’s never heard of Ai-Lee’s grove?”
Ai-Lee…XJ-V recalled. The prophet of the Eternal Dragon…the wisest of the Sect’s Cultivators. A legend of the old Dynasty.
Then that must mean this place is…
“Look you sister! Do not blink! Have you seen a talking stone think?”
Amidst their giggles, XJ-V merely turned and started walking away.
“I do not have time for this,” he said. “I must complete the Master’s mission.”
An abrupt impact against the side of his head brought his attention right back to the hidden entities giggling away in the bush. He looked down to see an acorn lying on the ground.
“Our gift to you, man of sto’. Without our knowledge you can’t grow!”
“Your words do not rhyme,” XJ-V told the air.
“Neither do yours!”
The Cog huffed and touched his fingers to his tired temple. “Perhaps the Master wishes to drive me insane. Meditation was easier than talking with airy things like these.”
“These, these!” the bushes shouted back. “That which you seek comes in threes!”
He lifted his head, seeing the branches of the willow start to ruffle playfully around him.
“You know what it is I seek?”
Something brushed against XJ-V’s leg. He looked down and saw nothing but slowly descending leaves – as though something had taken form there and then flitted away, invisible to even his trained eyes.
“Seek not with eyes, man so blue. It’s with your mind you’ll get your brew!”
He tried to stop himself grimacing at their little limericks. But, he had to admit that they had the better of him. Sure, he could stamp his feet and beat the trees, demanding that they speak plainly. But if these spirits were connected to the Sect of the Eternal Dragon in some way as he suspected, then he would have to exercise restraint tinged with patience.
So he nodded his head and did what he was bid: he closed his eyes and focused on what he needed.
“Tea-leaves,” he said aloud. “Tea-leaves for Master Longhua.”
No giggles came from the brush now, and he felt his hand shake as power came upon it. He waited. He listened. He felt something graze his palm.
Could this be the QI? Was this the power Longhua had spoken of?
He opened his eyes when he felt his palm begin to waver.
And saw nothing but dry grass.
In consternation he grit his teeth and sat down, ready to pummel his fist into the ground and shake up the spirits that had deceived him.
And just as he moved to do so, a flurry of crisp, charcoal leaves fell from the top of his head.
“Tee-hee, tee-hee!” the spirits croaked. “See the man of stone’s bright eyes! The metal can has found his prize!”
He plucked up the leaves with shaking fingers, looking up at the vacant clouds that had gathered in the skies above.
I wonder if you are watching me, Master, he asked them silently. Is this entertaining for you?
Sudden thoughts rushed through his mind of Feng-Lung, who must have undertaken this ridiculous trial too and who, XJ-V was sure, must have had the time of his life in this place. It was exactly the kind of place his wandering soul would get lost in.
“Crack the branches, pitter-potter – the metal man is needing water!”
XJ-V once again felt the distinct sensation of something nuzzling against his feet. Only this time, he was certain, it had the sensation of at least three fluffy tails caressing his metal skin.
“Follow-follow, man of stone! Chase our tails and get back home!”
“W-wait!” XJ-V called out as the wisps of wind left him and cut a swathe through the forest of willows to the East. He followed with as much speed as he could, thinking as he ran that asking questions was probably going to be useless here. If Master Longhua was anything to go by, the last thing the spirits cared about was giving mortal intruders in their realm answers.