Within the Dao, time is as inconsequential as air.
XJ-V and Feng-Lung spent the remainder of their day in quiet contemplation, Feng reflexively petting his new robot-kitten as they dived in and out of the Dao, both wandering beside the other, trying to grasp at visions that swam before their eyes.
Yet, though their journeys were tranquil, the visions were elusive.
There were forms in the dark that crossed a barrier to tear at the light where they stood. There were shapes that seemed to extinguish the sun high above the wastes, and there was fire spreading on the horizon. Strangely, such sights did not conjure fear in either Disciple. For some reason they seemed strangely…serene.
Like the snuffing out of the last candle before one embarked on a long, deep sleep.
Neither Disciple knew how long they had spent in their dual-Cultivation, but both knew for certain that the hours must have turned to days outside by now. That was simply the effect Ai-Lee’s Grove had on the Cultivator. It was why the old Prophet – first among the Eternal Dragons – had constructed the Grove as he had ascended to the Dao in the first place: as a reminder of what peace truly meant, and how it felt.
XJ-V and Feng only woke from such Dao-Walks when they saw a particularly arresting shared image – that of filth spewing forth from the cracks in the earth in a geyser that swallowed the sun. An oozing mass that slowly, with deliberation, assumed the form of a man. A man that began to walk towards both Disciples, leading the shimmering wraiths of darkness behind him.
The eyes of the black shape opened, and then Arha roused both men awake.
“Hey!” she shouted. “Arha is tired. Arha needs pats! Arha is sick of watching you too!”
Anima Cores: 144
Better…but not by much. There was too much power behind those eyes…
XJ-V shook his head, looking down at the little Huli nuzzling into his side.
“How quaint,” he said. “After all this time spent with only your sisters, you finally have company in this Grove. And you aren’t satisfied?”
“If Arha wanted statues,” she pouted. “She could walk outside and stare at the stupid stone tigers and dragons. Actually, why are there no statues of Huli in your human lands? Arha thinks this is very unfair.”
As the little fox roused her sleeping sisters in the willow behind them, XJ-V turned to see the concerned face of his Brother beside him.
“Did you feel that?” Feng asked. “That man…when he looked at me.”
XJ-V nodded grimly. Those eyes bore a striking resemblance to eyes he had seen before.
The High Eagle’s.
“When he looked at me,” Feng continued. “It was as though an invisible hand were clenched round my throat, stopping all Qi from entering my body. It was like he pushed me from the Dao, and closed the door behind him.”
“There is only one army capable of such evil,” XJ-V said. “That of the Divine Order.”
Feng balked, rubbing his neck, checking it for marks. “You have met their kind, haven’t you, Brother?”
XJ-V nodded gravely. “Though the memory of the encounter still eludes me. I had hoped that by growing as a Cultivator I could eventually look back into my past with certainty. To see the entire beginnings of my life, and my Creator…” he trailed off, then shook his head of the thought. “But it does not matter. The future is what is important now.”
Feng-Lung scoffed beside him. “Of course it matters. XJ-V, after understanding my past and how it has shaped me, you would really say that the circumstances of your creation mean nothing to you?”
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XJ-V smiled back at his Brother. But it was a dry, distant gesture. The waters of the Grove were what his eyes focused on.
“Perhaps I do not truly wish to look back,” he admitted. “Because it confirms what I think. And what, I believe, Master Longhua already knows.”
“Which is what?” asked Feng.
XJ-V hunched his shoulders, staring out at the lake and remembering how it floated with the limbs of his dead brethren when first he set foot in this sacred place.
“Why the Order is burning the world to ashes,” he finally said – in a voice that was less than a hushed whisper. “And what they are looking for.”
Before Feng-Lung could say anything more, the hurried steps of a Disciple running through the forest behind roused them both.
“Ouch!” he yelped. “Come on, let me through! I swear this is why I never come here anymore!”
XJ-V and Feng-Lung turned to see Mah-Jung wiping his sleeve and hem of his robe free from Huli and other small animal spirits.
“Mah-Jung?” Feng asked, a chuckle permeating his tone. “What brings our beleaguered brother here?”
But Mah-Jung’s face, when his eyes finally met those of the Disciples, was far from jovial.
“There has been an attack, Brothers,” he said. “The flames of war engulf the borders of the ten villages of Mt Ramor. That which is closest to the border with Taila – the village of Tenak - is filled with smoke. The Masters are being petitioned, but it does not seem like there will be a mustering.”
XJ-V rose slowly, carefully, as he heard the ripples in the Qi-tinged water behind him begin to spread again.
“It is the Order,” he said. “They have crossed the Badlands.”
Mah-Jung shook his exasperated head. “We do not know. It is possible it could be a simple bandit raid. The childish Warlords who control Taila are under much pressure, I hear. It is unlikely they can police their borders. But I thought it necessary to bring this to your attention. You two were the closest to him round here, it seems.”
Feng gave a sudden start. “Closest to whom?”
“To the Planeswalker,” Mah-Jung explained. “He had gone to Tenak on an expedition of some kind. It seems that now…he shall be forced to fight.”
Feng gasped as the news hit him, but XJ-V did not react right away. He turned back to the waves of Qi that were, by this point, spreading like wildfire across the surface of Ai-Lee’s pond.
And within their depths, he saw that man again – the figure born of the ooze of the earth, clad in shadow, bearing night…
“…and he shall fall,” he whispered, drawing a look of bewildered concern from Feng. “He shall fall…if he fights alone.”
Ori’un…
The Cog had already begun running even as the thought entered his mind. He had no plan of action. He had not even thought through his intentions. Yet, still, he ran.
“XJ-V!”
He ignored the calls of his Brothers as he sprinted through the trees and crashed through the exit portal, stumbling and falling on the cragged stonework of the Dragonpyre hearth.
And before him stood Master Longhua, resplendent in his crimson dragon robe adorned with the long-tailed guardian of their Sect, its spiral form glowing in the darkness of the Hall.
He was sipping tea beside the portal to the Grove, as though he was waiting for something to emerge.
“Disciple XJ-V,” he said. “It is a good night for a walk, is it not?”
The Cog rose to one knee and bowed before his Master.
“Master Longhua,” he said. “I must go.”
He rose steadily, meeting Longhua’s wrinkled face as the old man placed his cup down beside him and fixed him with his old, determined eyes.
“To do what?”
“To fight,” the Cog replied without hesitation. “I know why they have come.”
“You know no such thing,” his Master told him sternly, dismissing his claims with a swift flick of his ancient, braided beard. “Ori’un made his choice. He knew the risks in leaving the monastery at this time. Now, he must accept the consequences.”
“Is that what you told Feng-Lung, too?” XJ-V asked as his two Brothers emerged from the portal behind him, both stunned into silence by the defiance they saw in the Cog’s flaring eyes.
“Careful, Disciple,” Master Longhua replied, ignoring the new arrivals. “You walk a fine line addressing me in such a way in this Hall.”
“We are walking a fine line every day we sit here and do nothing while our own people die,” XJ-V replied, turning away and making for the door. “I am done sitting. I have waited long enough. Now, I am choosing to take action.”
“If you walk out those gates,” Longhua told the Cog’s departing form. “You will not return.”
XJ-V stopped at the door. His hand wavered, and every piece of wiring in his matrix told him to look back at the faces of his Brothers and his Master. Every part of his soul yearned to return to the feet of Longhua and beg forgiveness under the watchful eyes of the Eternal Dragon.
But these were not the things he did. Instead, he threw open the door to the thundering cacophony of lightning and rain outside, dimly making out the coiling tower of smoke in the far distance.
He only said one more thing before he sprinted towards it:
“I am sorry, Master.”
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