An Eerie wind blew through the town square of Forest depths village as the remains of the once mighty Fan clan legion stood, hollow eyes observing flickering flames. Set across the square many individual pyres burned while a giant mound smoldered. Every individual blaze was carefully placed and constructed to honor the dead while the large pile consisted of the haphazardly arranged fallen Wei clan warriors.
Bitterness hung heavy in the air as the surviving battle squads sent silent prayers forth for their fallen comrades. No words were spoken, for none could encompass what had happened here. Instead, a deafening silence weighed down as the wind blew ash slowly from the burning pyres. Fan Shun sat alongside Fan Zhong, Zi Bao, Fan Yong, and Su Dai, each of them holding a silent vigil over the pyre of Su Fen. Occasionally Fan Shun would get up and sit under the pyre of Fan Ping along with Su Luixiang. The commander had been given the largest constructed pyre where she was laid to rest with Kang song, their ashes intermingled as they slowly danced in the wind.
It felt like days for the legion as they stayed vigilant, watching and honoring their dead. Hours stretched on and it was only come nightfall, with only the embers to light their faces, that Fan Shun stood and walked to the center of the town square. Walking slowly backward he went until his back was level with the furthest pyre from the center. In a single swift motion, he turned to face them and clasped his hands together in a martial salute, and shouted.
“Thank you!” Qi infused this shout caused a shockwave so powerful that many were almost knocked over.
In these words, the deep found sadness that everyone felt was conveyed, alongside it was gratitude and respect. Without saying another word Fan Shun stamped his feet and called for the legion to stand at attention, golden light burned inside his eyes and the aura of a general poured from him.
“Brothers and sisters, today we have won a battle at a great cost. To attempt to put into words that which we all feel is beyond this humble warrior's abilities, in this I will beg for your forgiveness for being an incompetent commander” Saying so he bowed low to all the legion members, grim determination in his eyes.
Each remaining Fan clan member stood with their backs straight with stoic expressions, fighting hard to hold back their feelings. This was the life of a warrior, to show weakness in the face of battle would damage the memories of those who had fallen. Still, inwardly, each of their hearts bled a river of hatred and sadness.
To the survivors of the siege of Forest Depths Village, the very existence of those named Wei was unacceptable, each and every one of them would harbor this hatred in their hearts for the rest of their lives. Fan Shun stood and faced them, resolution settling into his expression.
“We will count supplies and martial a perimeter defense, each battle squad will rotate with a single observer keeping watch at each gate. Sister Su Luixiang, you and one of the remaining observers will make for the Village of the Sky Splitting Spear and report to the alliance. With the Wei dogs sent running, we have time to call for reinforcements before they regroup.” Fan Shun’s ever-present stoic tone was like a balm to the shaken warriors, the presence of a stable commander acting like a sturdy foundation for their minds. “Think not that today is forgotten, brothers and sisters, there will come a day of reckoning. On that day, a price will be paid for the blood spilt here. Now, get some rest, tomorrow we resume our posts.”
Sleep came restlessly to everyone that night however, strangely, Fan Zhong found that he slept peacefully. No nightmares came that night nor harrowing dreams of demons, it seemed that whatever thoughts had been plaguing him had also been wilted away by the grief from the battle. Morning soon came and the legion resumed their vigil as Su Luixiang and the new observer for Fan Zhong’s squad departed.
The world seemed odd to him now as days passed with no action or surprise, just the dragging existence of silent wind that whispered through the valley. Weeks began to drag on and not a single sight of the enemy was seen, it was as if the village was just a peaceful part of the valley like no other. Little was said during these weeks as every time Fan Zhong would sit around the fire with his companions he would feel the missing presence of Su Fen and Mo Hui.
Fan Yong took the shock even worse, going so far as to forget to eat for almost two days before Fan Zhong noticed and made him eat something. Zi Bao’s expression was hard, just like it used to be. Gone was the jovialness that had been injected into the young man by his days working side by side with his fellows. Replacing that was a scowl that seemed even angrier than he had been as a child.
Fan Zhong knew that Zi Bao loved practicing his martial arts and surprisingly he found that sparring with the young warrior painted a different picture of his emotions. When they sparred, in their infrequent downtime, Zi Bao’s blows felt rushed and hard. He put too much power into attacks as if he was trying to club Fan Zhong to death instead of practicing martial techniques.
During weapon contact, he would seem to grow melancholic for a moment before beginning another aggressive assault. In this Fan Zhong felt a small spark of enlightenment, Zi Bao’s heavy blows were his anger manifested in his fighting. Anger at the enemy surely but also anger at himself.
Each small pause of melancholy was the young warrior reflecting on his inability before he attacked again more furiously. It was like an avalanche where at first a small movement happens leading to a larger one which in turn leads to even more movement. The experience felt surreal to Fan Zhong, it was like he was observing the sparring from far away.
Many things had felt like this for him since the moment he had felt that Su Fen was dead, as if the very idea of such a thing had built a wall of dullness between him and the world. This continued for two weeks before Fan Zhong found himself crying uncontrollably while on guard duty. Suddenly the world seemed to careen and he was on the floor, curled into a ball while gagging on tears and vomit.
Not much was clear to him after that other than a blaring pain and sadness in his mind that seemed to drown out everything else. When he awoke it was night time and Fan Shun was sitting on a small chair next to him. Looking around he recognized the medical tent that the legion had used, now devoid of the observers who normally staffed it.
Inside, only he and the older warrior remained, illuminated by a single torch. Firelight flickered casting dancing shadows over the golden martial arts robes each of them wore. On a small table at the center of the tent, each of their azure cloaks had been neatly folded and set down side by side. Fan Zhong remembered when they had left home, how these robes and cloaks had seemed so resplendent. He remembered how the legion seemed invincible, a force of martial might to rival heaven and earth.
He had been wrong, oh so wrong. Looking at the once proud robes and cloaks they carried hundreds of small tears and defects, smears of dirt and blood covered each of them as patch jobs seemed to form a pattern across the fabric. Coughing a bit Fan Zhong managed to sit up and take a sip of the water that had been placed on a small table at his bedside.
“Are you feeling better Nephew Zhong?” Fan Shun asked him, eyes holding the same understanding they had during the siege that had burnt the food warehouse.
Once again, he was amazed that looks could convey so much emotion, no words could describe what Fan Shun felt about the death of his closest friend nor the concern he felt for Fan Zhong.
“Yes senior, many thanks for the care.” Fan Zhong said, bowing as low as he could from a sitting position.
“Bah! What thanks. Should a family member need to thank another for aid given? You shouldn’t have even been here, none of you should have been here… If only…” Fan Shun seemed to slip into melancholy, a rare sight for the ever stoic commander.
Fan Zhong felt a small fire inside of him at those words. It was true that Fan Shun was far more skilled and powerful than he or Su Fen however, he fought for the clan because of loyalty and respect. No one had forced any of them to be here, their honor as warriors had demanded it.
“Senior, no offense, however, we are here because duty demands it. Everyone fought with courage and bravery and had a right to defend their family. There was no one here who shouldn’t have been” Fan Zhong built his courage as he spoke, images of Su Fen’s last stand to save his squad flashed through his mind.
To him, saying that those who had fallen had no right to fight was akin to saying they had no business being on a field of battle. This trampled on the memories left of them, the lives they had given with courage and bravery being insulted. Fan Zhong respected Fan Shun deeply however, fundamentally this was something he believed down to his core.
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“What right to defend, WHAT DUTY? DEATH IS DEATH JUNIOR! IT IS A JOURNEY TO THE ANCESTORS THAT FOREVER REMOVES YOU FROM THE WORLD! Duty, honor, memory? IT ISN’T WORTH A SINGLE MOMENT SHARED WITH THOSE THAT PASSED!” Fan Shun was yelling, his face twisted in rage and sorrow as he bore down on Fan Zhong.
The young warrior backed away, horror filling his eyes with each passing moment. Suddenly Fan Shun seemed to deflate, breathing deeply for a few breaths before composing himself and looking up at Fan Zhong.
“Apologies, nephew Zhong I have had… A difficult time these past few weeks… it's just tha-'' Fan Shun didn’t get to finish his sentence as Fan Zhong stumbled over to him and wrap him in a hug.
Face awash with surprise, the older warrior froze in astonishment for a moment before returning the gesture. After a few seconds, the two pulled away from one another and sat back down. Understanding filled Fan Zhong’s eyes and their gazes met, once more a conversation of expressions happened.
This time, it was Fan Shun who was looking at the emotions in the young warrior's eyes. In them lay an understanding, if only partially, of what he was feeling. A bond between generations strengthened at that moment and each of them nodded to each other before Fan Shun left to retire for the night. Time passed quickly in the coming weeks and the month came to a close with no enemy activity. Su Luixiang returned with a contingent of Wang clan soldiers, around a dozen, along with new provisions and supplies.
Once again time seemed to slip by as the combined Wang and Fan legion forces held vigil over the village and the remaining two months slowly passed by. During this time Fan Zhong had trained tirelessly with Zi Bao and Fan Yong, waking each morning to start. Around one month after the Wang clan forces arrived something seemed to slide into place in Fan Zhong’s mind.
He realized that battles were much like battles of will, where one party's emotions and fighting spirit clashed with others. Fan Zhong often thought of how music conveyed emotions, rapid aggressive beats conveyed anger or excitement, while slow drawing notes hid anticipation. Slowly, as if a fog was being pushed aside in his mind, this distinction became clear.
When in battle one needed to read the melody of an opponent just as much as their own, to hide their own rhythm within an ever-changing melody. Music could be subtle, with those same slow drawing beats giving way to the rapid aggressive ones. Much like this, he found that he could hide feints and tempo switches in combat within rhythms that misguided the opponent.
Small details appeared in Fan Zhong’s mind like never before, noticing the way that Zi Bao would start fights aggressively to bait him into counterattacking before instantly switching into receiving style attacks with a slow anticipatory style. Fan Yong on the other hand fought with well-measured defense, wide striking shifting palms to keep the opponent at a distance to keep measure. He would poke and prod until the opponent became frustrated and tried to break through, then the rapid onslaught would ensue with his tempo rising and strikes falling like rain.
Finally, he understood, much like how the world spoke to him in tones of music, martial arts also could speak to him in this way. This might sound like an obvious observation from the outside; however, it was a total perspective change for Fan Zhong. Previously because of his aversion to martial arts he had always grouped his interests and martial arts in separate camps inside his mind.
Martial arts were what the family wished for him to do and his hobbies were passions! How could such a thing as duty and passion ever coexist? With this, a wall had formed between the two for him, one that was as sturdy as his understanding of the world. As that understanding grew it started to outpace that wall, such as when he wrote music about the various palm techniques while training with Fan Cheng. This was like the wall only being able to partially obscure the connection but still mostly blocking it.
Now Fan Zhong’s worldview had expanded by leaps and bounds. If one was to compare the two it was as if the wall was now an ant, far too small to stop him from seeing the path connecting the two. On that day he exploded with power, handily defeating Fan Yong and Zi Bao. After that, he could only sigh in sadness as he remembered Su Fen was no longer here to give some lazy retort about his skill nor was the other veteran of their squad present to do so either.
Su Dai had been very quiet since the climactic battle and had mostly retreated in on herself. As such, although Fan Zhong wanted to console her and match his new techniques against hers, the veteran observer was in no mood or condition to do so. It pained Fan Zhong to admit it but he hadn’t truly spoken to the woman much at all and so even though he would give his life for her on a battlefield they weren’t close on a personal basis.
Sure, he could drink and exchange tales with her but something as crushing as losing a close family member was too intimate an experience for him to console her on. Trying to put on a show of good cheer Fan Zhong had reported his improvement to Fan Shun who had been surprised at the advancement. After some testing, he deemed that Fan Zhong had crossed the threshold into expert realm attainment for all nine palm techniques within the Fan clan style.
Other than this not much else happened during these last two months and the duty mostly started resembling a more structured peacetime mission than a military operation. Even so, the legion members never let down their guards and kept a resolute watch until the very last day. On that day a dazzling column of martial might descended on the village.
Row upon row of martial artists with flying flags with different crests and wearing the livery of the various valley clans streamed over the horizon that approached the southern gate of Forest Depths Village. At the head of all of them was the most shocking sight Fan Zhong had ever seen. A Fan clan palm strode toward the gate with each legion within it standing side by side, mighty golden robes flowed from countless Fan clan warriors as the silvery cloaks of observers seemed to shimmer in between them. Leading the entire force was a figure with the presence of a mountain, Fan Cheng had come to pick up his little brother.
Swiftly, the allied forces were guided into the village and two of the legions set out to secure a defensive perimeter with an equal number of alliance forces. Fan Cheng wasted no time arriving within the square and meeting Fan Shun. Shortly the surviving members of Fan Shun’s legion assembled and Fan Cheng visibly shuddered when he saw the state of them.
“Proud Fan clan warriors, you have undertaken a task no clan should have asked of you. It is this arrogant one's fault that this mission was conducted without further investigation. I beg for your forgiveness” Fan Cheng humbly spoke, his words laced with anger at himself.
Silently, the young master of the Fan clan, heir to the clan leader and genius of the heavens, bowed his head to the dirt. Every last one of them revealed aghast expressions with a few starting to move to make him rise. Fan Shun stopped them all with a single look, one that spoke of hardness and understanding.
Slowly Fan Cheng rose and nodded at the group before continuing.
“All of you are to return to Little Green Bamboo Village effective immediately. Defenses here will be seen to by the alliance of the northern shore valley clans from now on. Prepare yourselves, for we make towards home come tomorrow. Junior warrior Fan Zhong please come see me, the rest of you are dismissed from duty for the remainder of today.” The stoic young master’s gaze seemed to instill stability into them and each left after nodding in acknowledgment.
Once everyone had left Fan Shun nodded as well and moved away to give the two brothers privacy. For the first time in six months, Fan Zhong met the gaze of his older brother. At that moment the solid demeanor of a mountain still rested on the man however it shortly gave way to a smile of relief so profound it could barely be contained on his face.
“Elder brother, this one greets you. Ho-” Fan Zhong’s words never finished as his brother wrapped him in a silent hug
“Thank gods, you're alive… Oh, thank the four ancestors, gods, demons, and the devil himself that you’re alive.” Fan Cheng said softly while tightening his embrace as if he was afraid his fragile younger brother would blow away with the breeze if he was let go.
After a few moments, the two pulled away from one another, a small smile still on the lips of Fan Cheng. Fan Zhong was holding back tears, a warmth was growing in his heart that felt so welcoming, so familiar. It felt like a part of him that had been chipped away in these last few months was made whole again, as if these were the first few breaths he had truly taken in a long time.
Slowly the young warrior’s breathing calmed.
“It's good to see you elder brother,” Fan Zhong said, it was all that needed to be said.
Jovial laughing erupted from Fan Cheng and he smiled slightly wider, patting his little brother on the back.
“Indeed it is good to see you as well. Very good indeed. I have orders for you junior brother Zhong, orders that will mean we see much more of each other.” Fan Cheng said a bit of apprehension could be heard in his tone under the happiness
“Oh? As always, elder brother, this one hears and obeys” Fan Zhong intoned with deep respect while bowing overdramatically
“Hmph, disrespectful eh? Time enough to sort that out. In any case, junior warrior Fan Zhong under the order of the clan leader, I hereby issue you an order of redeployment. Your new assignment will be as a member of the core legion, under elder Fan Cheng” Fan Cheng smiled bitterly as he said the last part.
Confusion flashed in Fan Zhong’s eyes before realization hit him.
“Elder brother… You can’t! Thi-” Fan Zhong started before he was cut off
“Indeed, it's understandable though. I get why you're upset but that doesn’t make father or mother any less worried.” Fan Cheng’s expression was conflicted.
Fan Zhong felt confused, his father, brother, and mother were all upstanding members of the martial artist path. How could they do something like this? Bitterly he sighed in defeat, memories of the pain he had seen in Fan Shun’s eyes flashed before him. At that moment he could understand how even the most stalwart of men and women could have weaknesses when it came to those close to them.
“When will this begin?” Fan Zhong said in a low, defeated voice.
“As soon as we return home” Fan Cheng intoned, equally at a loss on how to reconcile his feelings on the matter.