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Demon of Dawn and Dusk
Chapter 2: Drowning One's Sorrows

Chapter 2: Drowning One's Sorrows

“I failed again, Father,” I said, as I stared up at the sky and drank cheap wine straight from the bottle.

It was evening now, several hours after my failed attempt to earn my uncle’s approval and earn a place within Clan Wind Dance. The sun had set some time ago, revealing the vast cosmos up above. The stars twinkled against the inky blackness of the night sky, like jewels adorning the cloak of a goddess. Perhaps they were. Immortals were beings of vast power, and rearranging the heavens to suit their needs was child’s play for them; at least, it was according to the legends and stories.

I sat within a grassy clearing surrounded on three sides by sheer cliff walls, leaning against the boulder that served as the entrance to my father’s immortal cave. A small glass and brass lantern hung from a nearby wooden pole, bathing me with its warm yellow light. A small copse of trees marked the entrance of the clearing. Silence filled the air, except for the sound of my breathing. I was the only living being in this place, aside from the plants of course, and powerful arrays prevented the outside world from intruding. The scent of grass filled my nose.

Now that the sun had set, it was cold up here. While Mt. Wind Dance wasn’t a tall mountain, it was still chilly this close to the peak. Unlike with the main building, the arrays up here didn’t keep out the cold. The clearing’s stone walls kept the worst of the wind from intruding, but not all of it. My brown robes, made from cheap cotton, did little to protect me. At least the wine, cheap as it was, warmed me up.

Right after I left Clan Wind Dance’s main building, I headed towards the one place on Mt. Wind Dance where I felt at peace: the clearing that served as the entrance to my father’s immortal cave. It was located near the top of the mountain, where the concentration and quality of qi was much higher. Mt. Wind Dance was a sacred mountain, a type of natural treasure. From what Lucius told me, the entire mountain was a natural qi gathering array. That was the main reason why our clan settled here in the first place. The higher up the mountain one went, the denser the qi.

Ironically, my lack of cultivation made it easier for me to walk up the mountain compared to the rest of my kin. Weaker cultivators, such as those in the Qi Condensation realm and the Foundation Establishment realm, could only go two-thirds of the way up the mountain before the concentration of qi became too much for them. As a mortal, even one with demon blood, I was less sensitive. It allowed me to go places that the rest of my kin couldn’t, such as this clearing.

I took advantage of this and came here whenever I wanted to be left alone, which happened with depressing frequency. Sometimes I came up here to practice the Dancing Wind Blade fighting style, while other times I came here to read in peace. Growing up, none of my peers wanted to play with me or be friends, so I found solace in books and scrolls. When I wasn’t practicing the Dancing Wind Blade fighting style, I was reading. Lucius was my friend, but the ten year age gap between us made him a poor playmate.

I spent the rest of my time up here leaning against the entrance to my father’s immortal cave and spoke to the empty air, pretending that I was speaking to him. It helped me feel less alone. I even had a little stash of snacks and drinks up here for when I grew hungry and thirsty. Since I was the only person who could come up to the clearing, leaving my things here felt safer than leaving them in my home.

Well, that wasn’t quite true. My uncle was powerful enough to come here, yet he never had as far as I knew. I think it was because coming here reminded him that he was merely the acting head of Clan Wind Dance and not the actual head. That honor belonged to my father, though he didn’t get much time to enjoy it before he went into seclusion.

Before my birth, my father traveled all over the world and experienced all that it had to offer. He spent long stretches of time away from Mt. Wind Dance. However, when my paternal grandfather and the previous head of Clan Wind Dance died, my father returned home to take up his place as the new head of Clan Wind Dance.

To everyone’s surprise, when he returned home, he brought a baby with him. That baby was me. Not only that, but Father had been attacked by a cultivator from a rival sect just before he reached Mt. Wind Dance. He won, but not before his attacker afflicted him with Spirit Devouring Poison. This rare poison ate away at a person’s body and soul, corrupting them from the inside out. It also had no known antidote. The only way to survive it was to purge the poison from one’s being little by little using one’s qi. Even then, the chances of survival were low.

My father barely had time to declare me as his son and appoint his brother as acting head of Clan Wind Dance before he went into seclusion in order to purge the Devouring Centipede Poison from his being. He hasn’t emerged since then.

Most everyone in Clan Wind Dance assumed my father was dead, since his chances of survival were so low, but no one dared to break into his immortal cave in order to check. Instead, they were content to leave things as they were.

I believed he was still alive, but perhaps that was wishful thinking on my part. If my father was still alive, and emerged from his seclusion, that would make me the son of Clan Wind Dance’s head rather than the outcast with demon blood in his veins. Instead of a pariah I would be a young master, with all the privileges that came with the position. Most importantly, I would have family other than Lucius that I could trust and rely on; family who would love me rather than hate me.

Or maybe not. I still had demon blood running through my veins. That would never change. What if Father also ended up hating me?

I shook my head to clear away those thoughts.

Regardless of whether my father was still alive or not, his absence left a vacuum within Clan Wind Dance’s hierarchy, and my uncle had taken advantage of that vacuum to secure his own power. If my father was still alive, and emerged from seclusion, he would face a lot of opposition in order to establish his authority over Clan Wind Dance.

Still, I didn’t think he would have much trouble with that. While Dominic was a Golden Core cultivator, my father was in the Nascent Soul realm, putting him one step above my uncle. In the end, strength was what mattered the most to cultivators. No amount of scheming or power jockeying on my uncle’s part would ever change that.

“Will I ever become a cultivator?” I mused out loud. “Or will I forever remain a mortal, struggling to prove my worth until the day I die?” I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the entrance to my father’s immortal cave. “Please, come out soon, Father. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

After years of enduring my clan’s hatred and disdain, I felt worn down. Stubbornness could only take one so far. I felt tired in spirit, if not in body. If this continued, I felt like I would break.

“Perhaps I should run away and join another sect after all,” I muttered. It was a thought that had crossed my mind before. “Staying here won’t do me any good. I’ve known that for a while now, but I’ve been too scared to go anywhere else. I’ve never left Mt. Wind Dance. It’s all I’ve ever known.” I scoffed and shook my head. “No. That would never work. Even if another sect accepted me, Clan Wind Dance would never allow it. I’m trapped here.”

The thought depressed me even further and I took another pull of the wine. Rather, I tried. To my surprise, I found that I had emptied the bottle without even realizing it.

“Damn it,” I muttered.

It was my last bottle too. I would either have to get more from the clan’s storehouses or go into town and buy some.

A town of mortals occupied the base of Mt. Wind Dance. They lived under the protection of our clan, and in exchange they paid us tribute and taxes. Otherwise, there was very little interaction between the town and my clan. I was the only one who ever traveled between the two on a regular basis. While it wasn’t a big town, as these things went, it had everything someone like me could ever need. The mortals there knew that I lived on the mountain, but they assumed that I was a servant rather than a member of the clan.

Go to the clan storehouses or go into town? Both had their downsides. Going to the storehouses meant dealing with the clerks and managers who oversaw them. Like with everyone else in Clan Wind Dance, dealing with them was an ordeal for me. However, going into town meant walking all the way down the mountain and dealing with mortals.

I snorted. What kind of attitude was that? It wasn’t like I was any better than them. While I came from a cultivator clan, I wasn’t a cultivator myself. I was a regular mortal, just like the townsfolk. Well, maybe not a regular mortal. I did have demon blood running through my veins.

After considering it for a few more seconds, I decided to go into town. I had to go down there anyway, since my house was located at the base of Mt. Wind Dance. After buying some more wine, I would head home and drink there.

My legs wobbled as I stood up and my head swam. The world around me spun. Huh. Maybe I should stop drinking and just head home. If I went into town in my current state, I was likely to get into trouble. While the town was a peaceful and law abiding place, why tempt fate?

With my course of action decided, I pressed my forehead against the entrance to my father’s immortal cave.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Goodbye, Father,” I whispered. “I love you.” Normally, I would have ended things there, but I felt the urge to say more. “Please be alive. Even if you end up hating me like everyone else, I would rather have you alive than not.”

After saying my goodbyes, I left the clearing on unsteady feet.

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After I left the clearing, I followed one of the trails leading back down Mt. Wind Dance. Due to large amounts of abundant qi, Mt. Wind Dance was full to bursting with plant life and a thick forest covered the entire mountain. Several trails and paths wove their way through the forest. I preferred to use the lesser known ones.

Despite my current inebriated state, I had no issue navigating my way back. Lanterns hanging from wooden poles illuminated the path. However, even if it were pitch black, I would have been fine. I had explored these trails ever since I could walk, so they were as familiar to me as the back of my hand. I had no issue making my way home, even though it was night and I was drunk.

Well, damn it. When it rains, it pours as they said. Of course I would have to run into the last person I wanted to see on my way back home.

On my way down, I passed by a few others, but they all ignored me and I ignored them. Most of them were servants, but a few were members of Clan Wind Dance. Most of the time, my kin gave me dirty looks whenever they saw me. Some even muttered insults under their breath. However, tonight they left me alone. Perhaps they pitied me, after what happened in the main building earlier. Regardless of the reason, I was grateful for their indifference.

Well, most of them left me alone.

When I neared the base of Mt. Wind Dance and the small wooden shack that served as my home, I ran into Zayne Wind Dance and his cronies.

While my kin hated me and treated me with contempt, they limited themselves to glares and harsh words. A few of the younger generation, however, went a step further beyond. They pushed me, tripped me, and overall made my life more difficult than it already was. They left me alone whenever I was with Lucius, but I was fair game when he wasn’t around.

The worst among them was Zayne Wind Dance. He was Lucille’s nephew, the son of her youngest brother, and she doted on him. This gave him an overinflated sense of his own importance. He strutted around like an arrogant peacock, acting as if he were the young master of Clan Wind Dance rather than either myself or Lucius. Whenever he went too far and crossed a line, Lucille smoothed things over for him. If I hadn’t been the chief victim of his torment, I would have found his attitude amusing. Instead, it sickened me.

For whatever reason, Zayne loved to bully me, despite being closer to Lucius’ age than my own. While my other bullies limited themselves to childish pranks, Zayne outright abused me. At first, it was minor things like a slap here and a punch there. However, over the years, he grew bolder and kept pushing the line. I tried to fight back whenever it happened, but he was a cultivator and I was a mortal. No matter how hard I fought, I could never win against him.

At first I tried telling others about Zayne’s abuse, but they either ignored me or accused me of lying. Not only was he Lucille’s nephew, which let him get away with a lot, but he made sure to hide his abuse. He never hurt me in front of others, and he made sure to never leave bruises where others could see them.

When Lucius started teaching me the basics of the Dancing Wind Blade fighting style, I told him about Zayne’s abuse. The next day, he gave Zayne an absolute thrashing in public. I derived a lot of satisfaction from that, petty as that made me. Unfortunately, Lucille intervened and forbade Lucius from laying a hand on Zayne ever again. With my uncle backing her, Lucius had no choice but to obey.

When Zayne recovered, he gave me a beating in retaliation. I couldn’t walk right for a week afterwards. It became clear to me then that asking for help just made things worse. So I learned to swallow my words and endure the pain in silence.

Sometimes it felt like that was all I could ever do. Endure.

When I saw Zayne, and his two cronies, a pit opened up in my stomach. They stood in the middle of the trail, blocking my path. My gut told me that something bad was about to happen, and there wasn’t anything I could do about it.

Like the rest of our kin, Zayne had long blonde hair, pale skin, and delicate features. He glared at me with contempt and disdain in his sky blue eyes.

The four of us were the only ones here. Few ever used this particular trail, and even fewer came this close to the base of Mt. Wind Dance if they could help it. Meaning that there was no one around to stop Zayne should he become violent, and he would. He always did.

“Well, look who it is,” Zayne said, sneering at me. “The demonspawn.”

His cronies snickered, but otherwise remained silent. I glared at him and didn’t respond. I thought about ignoring him altogether and going around him, but he would just move to block me again. That happened the one time I tried to flee from Zayne. He just chased me down and continued tormenting me. No matter what I tried, whether it was fighting back or fleeing, the best I could do was endure until Zayne grew bored and left me alone.

“What?” Zayne asked. “You have nothing to say? How rude. After I made the effort to come all the way down here to see you. Oh, you wound me, cousin.”

I wanted to sneer at his overly familiar words, but any reaction on my part would just encourage Zayne. Over the years, I learned that the best way to deal with him was to hide all emotion and pretend like nothing he said bothered me. It didn’t stop him from getting violent, but it kept it to a minimum.

“What do you want?” I asked him instead, speaking in a flat voice.

Zayne looked me up and down, a derisive sneer on his face.

“Nothing much,” he said. “I was in a bad mood, so I wanted to see the failure of Clan Wind Dance. That always lifts my spirits.” He snorted. “At least you’re good for something. No matter how poor my day goes, knowing that I’m far from the worst that our clan has to offer never fails to make me feel better.”

This wasn’t any different from Zayne’s usual doggerel, yet for some reason, it hit me harder than usual. Maybe it was my uncle’s words from earlier, maybe it was my repeated failure to change my fate, or maybe it was the wine from earlier clouding my mind. Perhaps it was a combination of all three, or perhaps it was none of them. Regardless of the reason, I felt something within me crack. It took me a moment to realize that it was my patience.

“How could that be?” I asked, speaking in a mocking tone of my own. “When our clan produced someone like you?”

Zayne’s expression darkened.

“Excuse me?” he asked in a low voice. “What did you just say?”

I knew this was a bad idea, and I would suffer for it, but I couldn’t stop. Rather, I refused to. I was tired of holding it in, of suffering in silence. I needed to let it out, to vent it, before it festered and ate me up from the inside.

“Let me rephrase,” I said. “How can I be the worst Clan Wind Dance has to offer when it has someone like you?” I gestured to the rest of Mt. Wind Dance. “My uncle forbade me from cultivating after the elders pressured him. What excuse do you have?”

Unlike Lucius, who was considered the genius of the younger generation, Zayne had mediocre talent for cultivation. Despite cultivating for more than ten years by this point, the length of time it took the average cultivator to reach the Foundation Establishment realm, Zayne was barely halfway through the Qi Condensation realm. According to the rumors I heard, the only reason why he even made it that far was because of the pills and other cultivation resources Lucille gave him. Otherwise, he would have been even further behind.

Zayne’s expression turned ugly. That was all I saw before my head snapped to the side and I stumbled back, my face exploding with pain. It took me a moment to realize that Zayne had slapped me. I hadn’t even seen him move. Most of the time he moved slow enough that I could still see him coming, even if I couldn’t do anything about it. I guess he decided not to hold back this time, at least when it came to speed. If he had used his full strength, he would have killed me outright.

A chill ran down my spine as I realized my mistake. Mediocre talent or not, Zayne was still a cultivator. That put him leagues above me. Taunting him ensured a beating from him, and a harsh one at that.

“How dare you insult me, you filthy mongrel?” Zayne shouted.

I didn’t respond since I was too busy trying to remain upright. My head swam, both from the pain and effects of the wine I drank earlier. Just when I managed to recover my balance, Zayne punched me in the gut and knocked the wind out of me. I fell to my knees, clutching my abdomen and gasping for air. My vision blurred. The pain was so intense that I ended up vomiting. Most of it ended up on the ground, though some of it covered my clothing. The acrid stench of it assaulted my nostrils.

Zayne punched me again, hitting me in the face this time and knocking me to the ground. The blow was strong enough to scramble my thoughts, though I somehow remained conscious.

“Who do you think you are, talking back to me like that?” he asked, still shouting. “I thought you learned your place a long time ago, demonspawn, but it looks like I was mistaken. Let me educate you, so you don’t forget again.”

Zayne proceeded to kick me over and over again, holding back just enough to avoid breaking my bones but that was it. Pain blossomed all over my body, until it became all I knew and all I felt. Without the strength to fight back against Zayne’s assault, all I could do was close my eyes, curl into a ball, and wait for it to end.

“Stop!” a voice called out in a panic. I think it was one of Zayne’s cronies, though I couldn’t tell for sure. “You’ll kill him!”

Zayne ignored the voice and continued to beat me.

“He might be a demonspawn, but he is still a member of the main family,” another voice said, sounding scared. “If you kill him, we’ll all get in trouble. Not even your aunt would be able to protect you.”

Zayne stopped when he heard that, though the pain remained. A few moments later, he pulled me up by my hair. It hurt, but it was a drop compared to the ocean of pain I swam in.

“Don’t think this is over,” Zayne whispered in my ear. “I’ll be back tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that. I want you to feel, deep in your bones, that you’re nothing more than an insect that I can crush anytime I feel like it.”

With that, he dropped me back to the ground. A small part of me noted something wet and sticky seeping into my clothes. It took that part of me a moment to realize that Zayne had dropped me in my own vomit. The rest of me was too preoccupied by the pain I felt.

I had ointments useful for treating wounds back in my house, but getting up and walking over there felt like too much effort at the moment. In fact, remaining conscious felt like too much effort. It seemed easier to just fall asleep and escape the pain that way.

Rather than fight it, I succumbed to the temptation. However, just before I fell unconscious, I heard a rustling come from nearby.

“Well now,” a woman said in a sultry voice. “The heavens must be smiling upon me tonight. What a fortuitous opportunity.”

Before I could ponder the woman or words further, darkness took me.