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Eternal Pavilion
20th: Twentieth Chapter: Besieged

20th: Twentieth Chapter: Besieged

He walked in his personal garden all the way to the abandoned room of the house. A dusty, spider filled wooden room with an overgrown, half rotten garden on one side and Zen pool with Koi fish on the other. A single bed at its center with silky pink mosquito nets draped from a rail at the ceiling. Holes marred the once pristine silks.

Grey dust dulled the shine of the moon in the room as it caked over the floorboards. A chair of red-wood rocked back and forth in the wind. A lantern empty of a candle and light hung at the center of the ceiling. Atlas wondered through the room with his eyes closed. He walked up to the edge of the wooden room. His feet only half touching the floor as they hovered above the stagnant pool of water.

Every part of his mother’s little complex had been left unattended. Father had ordered it so, and Atlas could do nothing about that. He breathed in, trying to see if he could conjure up a nostalgic smell. {GUGHU!} He only got a lung full of dust in return.

“Bi-Ran… Why are you back? Hadn’t you left?” He said as he looked at the young teen at the side of his vision.

“I… Don’t know what to do… You do understand that for my clan to come here and find a Qi spring to call our own… We need that seal Broken.” The teen clenched his fists as he spoke.

“I know th….” Atlas laid his back on the wooden door frame, One foot skipping over the water, a massive sigh escaped his lips. “What I know is that it’s not your job to fuss over it. Your job is to get them the information. The rest will be dealt with by people like Al-Sen. I’m sure she’ll make the best decision for you!”

“But not you!” Bi-Ran shouted.. He stepped through the house, he knelt before Atlas, fell to his eyes level. His brows were furrowed, nose wrinkled.

Atlas simply smiled weakly in response. “I think I’ve finally found out some of the truth behind my mother’s existence, her life and her death here on earth.” His eyes hazy, Atlas spoke.

“What are you talking about!?” Bi-ran questioned.

“She was not from this world. My mother. I don’t even know if she was from your world.” Bi-Ran raised his hands in exasperation as Atlas ignored him.

“She had Qi, when there was no Qi to have. She appeared one day, we never saw her family, she never had a home where she grew up. She was simply always Luna. Soon she became Luna Laertis and we forgot her last name. She never uttered it to anyone other than father. They truly had a special connection those two.” Atlas monologued, eyes misting over.

Bi-Ran cocked his head as he thought. “It’s weird, but them maybe she is from my world after all? It should be impossible, but Luna is a very common name for anyone worth their mettle. They take is a name, to honor themselves and their strength with the might of the Legendary figures that had existed so much more before current times.”

“That’s very interesting…. Well. I think we should this little talk.”

“Just like that?” Bi-Ran raised his brows. “We didn’t even talk about what I wanted.”

“Yes. Like this. You need to return to your family and your people. Those are the only ones that will always be by your side. So do what is best for them and forget about us. I need to sleep, I have a lot to do tomorrow.” Atlas ushered Bi-Ran out of his mother’s old home. “Go on then.” He nudged, ruffled his dark magenta hair. Bi-Ran dove in for a hug. His arms tightened around Atlas’ waist.

“Thank you, for the hospitality.” He said in a hushed breath before he let go. Bi-Ran was off the clan grounds in a few silent breaths. None would know.

Atlas stepped out of the house and closed the paper doors, barely rolling in their rusty railings. He looked once more above the pond. This had brought him here tonight. Where it was as if a second moon was floating right above the calm waters.

A dense ball of silver Qi shining with as if it was a floodlight, with a pearl-like sheen to its edges. As dense as the Qi of the Dragon, so Dense it looked as if moon dust would crumble off its crust and float along with the wind. Almost like the craters of the moon were carved into its surface, though in truth it was a Character in a language and form not of Earth. A character he could not understand boldly stared back.

A real parting gift per say. Nothing like the baby steps she had carved into the underground gymnasium. Something that Atlas could not yet use. But something clearly meant only for him. Half a dubious smile stretched on his face as he departed to his quarters and crashed onto his bed. Fuzzy warmth spread in clumps inside of him. Unsure whether to stick around, or if it was truly the correct emotion for the situation.

The next day came and the sun was rising above the tree tops. The Clans awoke and got ready to continue their preparations. A strike force agreed upon the other night had gathered up at the tatami room of the Main building and were waiting for the Patriarch to debrief their mission.

It would have been a simple meeting, more formality, for morale. Yet the warning bells all around the clan from every gate and watchtower rung with searing intensity, it wasn’t meant to be.

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From right beyond the tree line all around the Clan a tall fence of logs and planks had been created overnight. A flimsy wall yet taller than the Laertis wall surrounded the compound just at the edge of their clearing. It’s foundations were shallow, its defenses weak, yet it existed and it served its purpose.

Left unattended by the Clans the refugees, hungry and dirty, slaved away the whole night just to prove that they were not to be underestimated.

“I refuse to believe this idea came from the mind of the Spring Sage. And even If it did, he can’t have put 250 people on each direction? Most of those would be civilians, incapable of fighting!” Patriarch Archeseus doubted, hands flailing about as he speed walked to the walls, Patriarch Ru Wai, Atlas and the rest following behind him at a brisk pace.

The truth was revealed the moment they reached the Eastern wall once more. There, the two leaders were having a peaceful talk, standing on the battlements. Smiles and treats, and niceties abound, as they waited for the besieged to make their appearance.

“So Glad you decided to show! Did you like our surprise? I made sure to not do any half measures.” A tea cup was raised in the hand of Xerxes who spoke with a hearty smile on his lips, a laugh in his voice.

“Oh! To explain, of course. May I?” He threw his tea cup to the ground as the Spring Sage nodded jovially. He stood up from his chair and strutted to the edge of the fence of logs.

“Upon the end of my little declaration I decided to scout the perimeter. It was my luck that I found a few tracks leading due east and decided to follow them. The fact that my Numbered knights begged me with their eyes to stop, yet followed my orders wordlessly may have had to do with my desire to follow these trails.”

“Anyway, I came upon this grand marching army, this machine the Spring Sage has built, and decided to strike up a deal. I get the South wall. You get the rest. We lock them in and let them starve. You get the Holy Grounds, I get their heads. It was incredibly convenient, a godsend. Thanks to the incredible work ethic of his people we worked through the night to chop down a hundred and a thousand trees and dug them to the ground, And viola, caught you in a trap. Wherever you go you will meet resistance, you will meet reinforcements, your non fighters will die. I’d suggest the few rats that begun this trouble in the first place, escape on their own.” Xerxes spread his arms wide, enjoying the spot light.

Atlas brows were furrowed so deeply they came into one. A monster clawed at the back of his head. He looked over to his father. The man’s expression was stern, cold. Not unfamiliar.

“We had been preparing for a siege. And A siege we’ll go through. We need information. Atlas, you wreck havoc. Test them, find their weak spot. That is were we will attack.” Archeseus patted Atlas’ shoulder. Atlas nodded in return. The turmoil in him twisting and shouting, calming and raging.

“Tighten the Patrols! Test their Walls! Short skirmishes will be our only form of attack, we won’t sacrifice anyone, and we won’t run away from our home!” Archeseus turned around and bellow to his waiting family members. Things were getting into gear. Atlas had a job to do.

He went over to his usual spot and saw little Argea waiting for him. “Hey. I don’t think we can go today.” He winced as he saw her tapping her fingers, arms crossed.

“You can. You’re a Cultivator, you can, now more than ever.” She pouted.

“No, I really can’t. I don’t have time, I need to… Test them, It won’t be a simple water resupply. I’ll be playing a game too dangerous to take you. I’ll have to call Aunt Xanthip to get you.”

“I can go back on my own. Stinking Idiot!” Argea pushed her wheels forward with her little hands. Skirting past Atlas expertly and riding off. Atlas sighed once more. A mix of emotions thickening in his stomach.

In short order after that Atlas grabbed his pole. He hopped over the Laertis wall and with a push of Qi through his feet he lunged over the wooden logs. He landed on the other side and smiled as he saw the stunned silence of the men and women nearby. Spoons, bowls, cups, and all manner of things clattered to the ground as Atlas blasted off, leaving the eating, resting soldiers in his dust. He would do this many times in the next hour, so much so that at least a hundred more men had gathered to try and stop him.

Sadly for them, he could just use tree branches tens of meters above the ground to move about. Something impossible for them even, even if they had cultivation. It was through training for his whole life that Atlas was able to move in such a way. Qi simply amplified his every capability.

Yet this was all preliminary work, scouting camouflaged as the routine. The hard part came now. Atlas zipped by the Central building to grab the supplies he would need. There Aunt Xanthip was waiting for him. Along with Patriarch Archeseus.

The Patriarch held the belts of powders and other items he would need to disrupt the enemies, with a few new things created by the Ru Clan, added to the arsenal. Xanthip snapped them from him with a harrumph and walked to Atlas with poise.

She stopped and begun strapping him in, not even letting himself do it. She reached around his back and whispered in his ear. “Listen to your heart. Please. Do not fear for us, we’ve seen our fair share, the Compound has seen wars and wars. The land itself knows how to defend itself.

Atlas nodded yet his mind wondered, his guts churned and bile rose up his throat. He saw his father’s clouded expression and gulped. He bowed deeply before exiting the building.

“You coddle him.” Archeseus spoke. He looked outside, to the lawns, and the air, and the dirt.

“You treat him like a tool.” Xanthip bit back, her face scrunched up, her eyes burned into her brother’s figure.

“He is the only weapon we have, Sister. He should just kill them all and be done with this. All our Techniques are in his head, The Clan has made sure of that. Yet have you seen the color of his Qi?” He turned to her and said with utmost seriousness.

Xanthip bit back a scathing retort, she acquiesced. “It’s silver. He took more from his mother than we thought.” She shrugged, questioning where this was going.

“We haven’t questioned it because we dare not think it. But I know it’s true. Luna has gone and taught our son a Cultivation Method different to our own. And the foolish boy used it. He has already put himself on a path different to our own. He can’t use our techniques the way he should. He will need to modify them if he doesn’t want to die while using them. And Atlas knows that. At the same time… He is being naïve. He has only one advantage left from what we passed down to him, yet he is not willing to use it. This will come back to bite us all. And the Blame will be put on him. The Heir, The prodigy, The Fledgling Hero.” Archeseus turned with a flap of his long sleeves and left.

His coal dark clothes blending with the shadows of the unlit halls. He retreated to his office once more. Leaving Xanthip to stare at the sky. It aged a deep gray, wind picked up, it closed in on her, reached down and brewed its turbulence.