Chapter 7

> Marriage is a matter of vital importance to all, though the practice differs across cultures and social strata. Regarding marriages among the elites of the Emerald Empire, contracts were of utmost importance – the most important marriages were signed under the witness of the Patriarch of Crimson Bonds. Such contracts had two main points of discussion. First is the spousal limit. Most marriages with powerful females strictly forbid concubines, a hallmark of Han upper society. Second, and arguably more important, is the family name of the offspring. There is much diversity in these terms: the children could solely have one parent’s clan name, or the firstborn could inherit the father’s family name while the secondborn inherits the mother’s. All in all, marriages were almost always an issue of negotiation, leverage, and lengthy terms.

Family Structure of the Midlands,

Added to the Archives in 1654 SY

----------------------------------------

Elzorath was sitting on a small boat. Small it might be, but it still had more than enough space for a table and a few chairs. Sitting on the ornately carved furniture, he sipped his cup of tea – a simple brew of mint – and gazed at the tranquil river.

The Mother River was almost always gentle and tranquil. Whether that was the result of its immense size - being more than two kilometres wide at its thinnest point - or of some hidden magical property, he did not know. That did not stop him from enjoying its calming, barely discernible waves. It did not stop him from feeling the river’s breeze, grazing his skin like the gentle touch of a loving mother.

Not that he would know.

He preferred the name “Tranquil River” over its more popular alternative. Although, its sacred tranquillity was slightly disturbed by the sounds of merchant vessels from all over gathering to the capital or any other noteworthy location along this continent-spanning river. Here, its size came to the rescue, making the voices and shouts barely noticeable.

Noisier were the beasts who saw this river as their home. The squawking, flapping sky ducks. The jumping fish. The croaking frogs.

He began throwing stones, having prepared them beforehand. The beasts indeed irritated him, prompting him to begin, but he would have started doing so even without them. He had come here in part for this exact ‘game’, as the peaceful, mirror-like surface of the water was perfect for his purposes.

Stone-throwing was a child’s game, but that was kind of the point. Simplicity was there, of course. And he indeed found finding ways to achieve the greatest number of bounces mildly amusing. However, he would be lying if nostalgia was not the primary factor. He and his two brothers had spent quite a few of their childhood days running around the shores of this river, throwing rocks, practising swimming, or play-fighting. “Childhood” here mainly referred to Elzorath and Erondik, since their older brother was ten years their senior. In many ways, he was their parent and guardian, their teacher in all manner of things.

Busy as he ever was, he still left time for his two icky younger brothers. He had brought them to all kinds of places, in the capital or across the Empire. Elzorath most fondly remembered their short summer trips, where they would go hunting or fishing around the Mokarross mountain ranges, their ancestral homeland.

When their father passed, he was the one who took charge of their education: choosing their teachers, deciding on their curriculum, and preventing their grandfather from placing them within those death camps. It was, of course, the latter that he would always be eternally grateful for. And he wondered what it cost his elder sibling. Or did their grandfather simply listen due to his excellence?

He would not be surprised if that was indeed the case.

Seven bounces. Eight. Then six. Just as the latest piece of rock sunk through the water, a loud splash rang out. He turned to his left, where a woman had just plunged her arm into the water. A woman floating in the air. She pulled out her limb and in her grasp was a squirming fish.

With one simple gesture, she guided the winds and landed on the deck. Soon after, he saw a metal spear fly through the sky, with a figure standing atop. Just before it flew past the boat, it stopped, sending the man and his weapon crashing into the water. Two hands gripped the boat’s side before the person hauled himself aboard. He was fully soaked and the water dripped onto the deck.

“You two could’ve just shouted and I’d have rowed to shore… you know that, right?”

“Yes, so what,” the woman said with a slight northern accent. She hugged him tightly, he could almost hear his ribs creaking. “No time to sit around when I get to meet you.”

“And we wouldn’t get to see you throw those rocks too. Quite cute, if I do say so myself. And that look of melancholy – it’s times like this when you look best.”

“Should I feel happy about that? Really?”

“Ignore him.” She began stretching his cheeks and checking his limbs. He felt like a pig being appraised for slaughter. “Hm, you are a bit thinner. I suppose this is preferable to becoming fat. Though, a bit more meat might make you a better pillow. Worth considering, eh?”

She just laughed at his glare. He wrestled out of her grip. His success obviously was because she did not try.

Elzorath then looked at the couple. They looked almost exactly as he remembered. The embodiment of excellence.

His brother, Elzopolk, was a tall man. Some would call him lanky – easily blown off his feet like a willow tree in the wind. However, his muscles, while not bulky, were lean and toned, tougher than all mortal alloys. That was not an exaggeration. His limbs had become a metallic grey, a result of his cultivation. The rest of his body thankfully had dodged such a fate. The transition between metal and skin was gradual, which helped with the look.

Elzopolk possessed the signature Ironwood eyes, but with one metal ring swirling around the molten gold. A mark of an Ironwood who had Ascended.

His wife, Bai Xiuying, was a princess of the Grand Duchy of Silversoul. She was an elf of the noblest lineage, thus her ears were long and pointed, while her teeth were all white fangs, each sharper than a steel knife. Her skin was snow white and her hair was silver; the latter was the symbol of her blood. Her irises too were pure white.

After deciding to change their surnames, her ancestors picked ‘Bai’ - White. It was not difficult to see why.

His sister-in-law did not wear white. It was the colour of death, yes. But that did not stop her relatives from wearing such, whether to fit their clan or to play ghost; or the fact their people did not attribute white with death. He despised it all the same. It was simply too blinding, too much white. Her colourful outfit - purple garments and a head full of jewellery – stood in stark contrast to her actual appearance. It made her all the more stunning.

Though he sometimes questioned how her head could stay upright, with all that added weight.

With grace, Xiuying plopped the 20-centimetre-long fish into her mouth. He could hear her mouth crushing bones, after which some blood trickled down her chin. With a quick swipe of the hand, her skin was once again spotless. Elzorath could not help but comment, “I understand that it’s… palatable, but at least remove the scales and bones.”

“They crunchy.” She shrugged, before dipping her hands in the water. A fish was soon in her hands. She took out a long, thin knife. In seconds, only the juicy meat was left, cut into small pieces and floating in the air. There was not even that much blood. After all, most of it had been drunk.

She offered the neatly cut fish to him. He just stared. Chuckling, Xiuying said, “With what you said, I thought you’d want it.”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“Shouldn’t you have asked first?”

“I would’ve done so regardless. You,” she pointed at Elzopolk, who had been nonchalantly staring at the sky, “eat it.”

“Lovely…” His brother finished everything in one swift bite. It was likely better to be over with it quickly than to let it drag out. Elzopolk bore a smile on his face, though it was quite strained.

He was sure Xiuying also noticed that. She simply smiled sweetly, sipping on tea.

Elzopolk then went to the side of the boat. Elzorath went to his side, briefly wondering if he was about to puke. His questioning gaze was only met with a resentful glare from his brother, a look that said ‘why did you have to bring it up.’ Elzopolk took a rock and casually threw it. By the time it bounced the twentieth time, it had hit the shore, landing deep into the sand.

Was that supposed to be payback?

Regardless, his brother had been able to do this ten years ago. He had always been able to exceed others, with a lazy smile and a drawn-out yawn. It was quite endearing just as it was infuriating.

“Anyway, today’s your Day of the First Step, so I let you off. We’ll have all the time in the world to train you in the proper ways,” Xiuying cheerfully said. “We’ve prepared a gift for you. Only one between us two, but I think this alone is worth two gifts. I promise.”

The day of the First Step was the anniversary of a person’s first step into cultivation, or rather, their Sixth Step on the First Floor. It was the moment they could be considered a cultivator. In most clans of note, only then would one be considered a fully-fledged person.

As for those who could not even reach this milestone, as did most commoners, they would have to suffice with a normal date of birth.

Certain places would change the day once an individual reaches the next major Floor, though that was not the case in the Midlands. What rarely differed across regions was the practice of gift-giving and well-wishing. It was partly why Erys came to the Capital on this date, to give him a small gift; at least that was what he had said. Still, he very much appreciated the gift, which was a painting of the two of them when they were still back at the Tower of All Knowledge. A simpler time, when they were but students. At a time when his self-confidence could overcome the heavens all on its own; he was certain of that, if only due to how pathetic it all was.

He came back to reality as Xiuying gave him a tightly woven bundle. She said, “It’s armour. Scales and leather from an adult dragon. Those little sea dogs up north hired a dragon rider, or the latter came on his own accord. Doesn’t matter which was the case. What matters is that we shot it down. Its body got absolutely destroyed, though, so we could only gather so much.”

Elzorath glanced at his brother. “Did you have to bargain much?”

“Heh, who do you think your brother is? I was the one who brought it down. It’s only natural- “

“You should be mentioning how you were the main culprit for the extensive damage in the first place.”

Elzopolk clicked his tongue before saying, “If I hadn’t done that, half my men would’ve been made fresh meat. Maybe you’d like to eat them.”

“Maybe. But I’d rather have tenderer meat. You know, from younger things. Like, children, mayhap.” Seeing their stares, she added, “That was a joke, by the way.”

Ah. “I would not be surprised, to be quite honest.”

She clutched her chest. “Such cruelty. And just after receiving my heartfelt gift, no less.”

“You asked for it. However, on a serious note, thank you both. For everything.”

They smiled. “It’s our pleasure.”

It was a bit creepy how in sync they were.

“Also, I’d like to congratulate you on taking the pass. It’s only a matter of time before we remove them from the continent.”

Xiuying said teasingly, “Your brother here redoubled his efforts just to make it in time for you. Right, honey?”

“Hm? Oh yes, certainly.”

“Not very convincing there,” Elzorath said, before smiling self-deprecatingly. “But it’s good to know I had an important role for a change.”

“Oh, that might actually be the case in the near future,” Elzopolk said. “Well, ‘important’ might be far-fetched, but I’ll let Yingying brief you.”

“Just have fun for today. We’ll discuss stuff tomorrow. But I promise it’d be more interesting than… whatever you’re doing right now.”

Elzorath could practically feel her disappointment radiating through each word. He could not blame her. He felt the same way, after all.

His brother added, “I also have something to say. But as she said, not today. No need to… taint things.”

Despite his nods, Elzorath could not but feel that it already had been tainted.

However, it was his problem, not theirs.

----------------------------------------

Elzorath was at his estate, in a small, comfy room. Across the small table sat his younger brother. Erondik said, “Today I prepared some wine from the Far West. The highest grade; made by the most renowned artisans there. The best for the best, obviously.”

Elzorath could only smile wryly. “Well, you got enough then?”

“Naturally. Four bottles total,” he said. One servant placed in front of his brother a full crystal glass, made in that eccentric style of the West. Another placed three whole bottles in front of Elzorath.

“Great uncle sent these?”

“After some pestering. And one from my personal collection.”

“Which you took from him. Only earlier.”

“Irrelevant details.” His brother said, as he elegantly drank his wine.

Elzorath took a swig of the bottle. A third was gone in an instant. As he spoke, his breath was coloured purple. “You do realize this is kind of wasteful. You could’ve prepared the most generic stuff and I couldn’t have told the difference. Or just some plain old water. That would probably have the same result.”

“Maybe not the taste, but at least you could feel the punch. And it’s, as I said, nothing.”

He shrugged. “Whatever. This morning I met our brother and sister-in-law. You should’ve been there. Maybe bring over their son.”

“They came over and took the little guy around. As for meeting… well, she absolutely despises me. Don’t even try to say anything. There’s not much hope for changing that. Maybe if I attempt to break through, but that is not going to happen any time soon.”

“She still entrusted her son to you. It’s not too much of a stretch.”

“Just because I’m decent with children does not mean I’m good with their parents. Also, it’s more so the fact that she dislikes her family even more than me that the boy even ended up here.”

“And not because our brother requested such?”

“For the hopeless dream of family unity. At least, not a family that includes me. But I digress. Actually, there is one thing here related to the topic I intend to discuss. Children.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you referring to your pregnant concubines? Congratulations once again.”

“No need. And no need to meet them, either. I seriously doubt any of them will survive.”

Elzorath could only sigh at that. His brother continued, “Maybe they will, but better stave your hopes beforehand. If my wife ever bears a child, that one would definitely survive. You can meet it should the day come.”

Erondik had an arranged marriage. It was something that was set in stone once they realized his potential for cultivation, or rather the lack thereof. The man himself knew that very clearly, even from an early age. Thus, he deliberately tried to raise his own value by securing a good marriage. Something he eventually succeeded in. He searched for good candidates, someone that would be fine with many concubines for the clan’s needs. After all, the three brothers carried in them strong blood. Since the first two did not bother with spreading their lineage, it was Erondik who carried the burden.

He would marry the young lady of the Pei clan. Their children would belong there, with the prerequisite of allowing concubines. They were a decent match. He had a good face, and his aesthetics fit her tastes. More importantly, for all its might, her house was newly established and lacked traditional prestige. Therefore, marrying a member of an Embedded Clan was a good deal. Getting the brightest general of their generation as a brother-in-law was also the cherry on top.

Loveless it may be, but it was still a pretty good partnership.

After all, few had the fortune of Elzopolk and Xiuying. Strength, beauty, lineage, and more.

Knowing all that, Elzorath still failed to stop himself. “But it won’t be of our family. A different surname. More importantly, a different upbringing.”

“Is that not for the better? I could even indulge it more. But I digress. I prepared a woman for you. Hear me out first, then curse me later. She is very fit: toned but not bulky. Light tan skin – I do fear for your taste. Sky blue eyes and dark long hair. She’s your age, twenty-two. Here, a painting.”

“That… does pique my interest. So, is she supposed to be a courtesan? I’m trying hard not to immediately discard the idea, you know.”

“No. She’s a warrior but captured and brought here. She’s pure if you were wondering. And yes, a slave. The price was quite steep. You look like you’ve eaten shit. Just release her if you want. But, she’s to be your concubine.”

“Is this grandfather’s intention?”

“No. It’s mine. To put it bluntly, I do not think you are going to survive.”

He felt his stomach drop. “You… know?”

“Yes. You’ll be joining Bai Xiuying in Vinshirai. Meddling in their affairs and all that.” Elzorath only stared blankly, but his brother ignored his reaction. “It would’ve been dangerous even with no handicap. With your current state, you’ll likely just die. I don’t know why she thinks it’s a good idea to bring you with her, but I have no control over that. So, before you die, I’d rather you leave something behind.”

He felt his throat run dry. He started on his second bottle. With some difficulty, he said, “I… think I can survive.”

It felt unconvincing even in his ears.

They looked at each other for a full minute. Erondik broke eye contact, before slowly saying. “Just consider it.”

“Yes. I’ll see what Xiuying says.”

“Know there’s not much time. And while I know you’d rather not bring children into this world I think it’s something worth rethinking. Once you’ve made up your mind, just send me a notice.”

He numbly nodded, making his way out. He washed his throat with the second bottle.

It did little.

The dryness did not go away. Nor did the bitterness.

A moonlit night and a good drink. A perfect fit for an esteemed poet. He was no poet, writer, or singer. He could not taste good wine, let alone make good rhymes. Thus, he could only stare blankly at the silver moon, wondering if one day it too would come crashing down like this life of his.