Prologue: Lost Lights In The Dark
King Kadra
Death
King Kadra, the ruler of the northern wall within the great Jade Empire, conqueror of the dark realm, and banisher of shadows kneeled before the funeral shrine to his wife, and wept silent tears of rage and grief. Her likeness would be etched with the other two, never to be lost to time, memory, or war. Forever kept in likeness here on the keystone of his family's shrine.
This place of remembrance was a library of the words and deeds of those of Kadra’s family who had died. Their journals, chronologies, and histories recorded by scholars filled the shelves around the room he now kneeled in.
Far too many of the most recent entries in this place had been during Kadra’s reign. And none of them had seen a peaceful end. Almost all of them were his children. Hundreds of names, and their deeds recorded in the books and on the plaques that festooned the walls, and his heart ached for all of them. They represented nearly all his progeny over the long years of life a near immortal cultivator like him endured. In his case, nearly all of which were spent fighting, and defending his people.
But there was love there too. Kadra knew that to find true love, a companion who could match you in every way, was a rare and precious thing that few people ever experienced. And he had found it. Three times.
And three times it had been stolen from him.
The monarch lifted his head from the floor and touched the relief of his long departed wives. They had all been his companions, his friends, confidantes, and equals. They had been meant to walk with him upon his ascension out of this world and into the greater cosmos itself. But they had died. All of them had passed on, beyond his reach and touch. Even the Gods who occasionally whispered to him, could not touch that place, where mortal souls went.
Kadra had desperately hoped this latest one, a genius cultivator, magician, and warrior who had nearly caught up to him along the great path of cultivation, would step with him outside the world and ascend alongside him. She had been on her way here to their capital city fortress for just such a purpose. To prepare herself for the final push to the Queen stage, so that together they might attempt to ascent beyond.
But as she had traveled, bandits struck. One of them, somehow, was a dragon blooded warrior. That monster's power had allowed the bastard to steal his wife's life from him, along with every member of their family who had been accompanying her. Nearly half their still living progeny, along with the last of his children that had survived from his first and second wives.
Sha’ra had killed the bastard. But had herself taken a mortal blow. With the rest of the caravan dead to a man, the baby hadn’t lasted much longer. The cold had stolen the air from her crying lungs mere moments after Kadra had arrived at the scene.
At least I got to hold the baby before the end. The thought filled him with a bitter sorrow, and rage tainted its edges. But he had to maintain control. Someone with his power, and authority, could damage everything around him with only a momentary slip of his will.
Kadra lit another incense stick, this one made from the ground horn of a strange horse-like spirit-beast on the far western side of the continent. One with vaunted healing properties. The magic soothed his embittered soul and tempered his rage.
“Bandits. What a lie,” he whispered quietly in the shrine. The ghosts that haunted the place did not respond. “You will pay for this betrayal, my dear emperor.”
The words spoken, the truth acknowledged, his rage became an unbridled river. It spilled out of him, suffusing his mana and chie in equal measure, as his aura ran wild around him. For the first time in centuries the full force of his wrath was unleashed.
Winter wind howled around him, the ancient stone spirits under foot yawned awake as they answered his wrathful call.
They all heard him.
The winds he had used to lay entire armies to ruin whispered thoughts of cold vengeance. The stone under foot that ran along the ancient wall rumbled its wrath, promising him justice and demanding to know who would dare test him. The Truth, or Dao in them was heavy, granting the elemental spirit's weight in the mortal world and it resonated with his Authority.
He shared with them his rage. His thoughts, and his memories. What he had felt holding his gasping and frostbitten baby daughter as she fought for her last desperate breaths. What it was like to lose his last love, seeing her body burned. What little was left of her skin covered in purple boils and blisters.
And finally, the betrayal upon finding the dead body of the Dragon-blooded. Whose bloodline clearly showed he had been a member of the imperial family.
The Winter Tiger yowled in rage, his spirit-animal companion joining Kadra’s bonded spirits in their outcry for justice. And then, as if something deep in the world had shifted, all went quiet. A sense of calm came over the links he had with all of his allies and companions.
Then, as if the Truth of the world, The Dao itself in its purest form had shown itself to him, he Understood.
He threw himself into a cultivation stance, and the world around him shivered and warped, a mere side effect of what he had begun. His companions fed mana and chie into him, rivers of the densest magic and life energy he had ever seen were at his disposal now.
He was ready. But this was going to take a while.
Barghast! He shouted mind to mind with his companion. He felt the presence of the Winter Tiger in his mind. Waiting for his orders. Tell my children, those that still live, to begin. My Ascension is at hand, and the Empire will soon have two Emperors.
***
The Goddess of Death thought of herself as a counter of things. A tallier, a mathematician, or accountant. Judgment was not her domain, that was left to her companions in the Hall of Justice and Mercy. Of course, it was her purview to ensure that there was a balance in all things related to death. Still, she felt herself above much of the drama of mortal existence, and focused her attention almost exclusively on ensuring their souls did and went, when and where they were supposed to.
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So, when she felt a largely unused aspect of her domain, that part of the Dao that she was responsible for shivering and quivering, she found herself caught up in the drama of a mortal's life. Something Death was largely unaccustomed to.
Her aspect of Mortality was being plucked, as a mortal was attempting to remove himself from it. To ascend to immortality. That was not unheard of. Plenty of mortals used the nearly endless paths the universe offered them to make the attempt. But this one was different. He was attempting to ascend on a wave of pure rage at lost love, and injustice. He had glimpsed the Truth in its fullness, his vision clouded by these things.
And he was going to succeed.
That won’t be good, she thought. A mortal's ascension fueled by such single-minded and all-consuming emotions would create a dramatic and negative imbalance in their soul. In a mortal, such an imbalance would be stripped from them as they passed into the next life. Either for reincarnation if the soul had yet to experience self actualization, or as they passed on to their final destination far beyond Death’s sight.
But in an immortal soul? Correcting such a problem was extremely difficult. Until it was accomplished, a task that would take the Gods themselves decades to do, the soul would be . . . well, self-destructive would put it mildly. Add to that the fact that they were only one step below a God, with the power and Authority to shift reality itself to their whims with little to no laws to stop them? And it made for a very dangerous situation.
Death could tell that there was another signature here. A faint wisp of another divine entity. She smelled the trace, and in an instant she realized who had been here just before her and had fled in terror at what they had accidentally brought into reality.
“Love!” Death shouted into the void around her table, where she had just finished counting the dead from a recent storm along the northern coast of the southern continent, where the Toad Princes had been fighting again.
“Love where the hell are you!”
The universe shivered, and a beautiful woman whose visage changed with every heartbeat, from sensual, to elderly, caring yet stern the next, then back to another youthful form from another of the hundreds of ethnicities on the planet appeared sitting in the seat opposite Death.
“Hey sis. What's up?”
“Don’t give me that. You were meddling with a mortal, and then they became that!” she pointed towards where Kadra was cultivating on the mortal plane. Less a physical gesture, and more a mental highlighting of that piece of the mortal realm. “What did you do?!”
“I didn't do anything!” Love protested, but Death had known her sister for a very, very long time. She could read her as easily as she could use basic math. Death simply stared, and her sister squirmed uncomfortably. Even immortals didn’t like it when the incarnation of mortality stared into their soul, judging them.
“Okay fine! But I didn’t do that, he did it all on his own. I was trying to help him calm down. Helping him relive memories of his wives, to help him past the anger stage of grief and into acceptance. How was I supposed to know he’d be so enraged, he'd glimpse the Truth in its fullness?”
Death took a deep breath to calm herself, metaphorically of course. Gods didn’t need to breathe after all. Love had always been a fickle thing. Even in that aspect of her nature she was fickle, as at times she could be as stubborn as stone on issues that Death felt were nearly pointless.
Love sighed sadly. “Their story was meant to be my greatest achievement you know? My magnum opus? Two cultivators, touched by tragedy, madly in love with one another, after living a life of service and honor ascend into the heavens arm in arm to strike a mighty blow against the forces that threaten The Path. And I was so close too.”
Love pouted, then sulked, and then Death could tell, felt deep sorrow at her failure. So close to success after centuries of work, only for it to be taken away at the last minute by the fickleness of fate.
“Did you consult with Wisdom before you started meddling with humans? You know what happened last time.” Her sister flinched at the memory. What had happened last time was a war spurred on by unrequited love, that Love had inspired in a young prince, that had eventually reached every nation, people, and continent.
A World War they had called it. Lots of people had died, and it had been the only time that Death had felt her ability to maintain the system had been—stretched.
“Nn—no.” Love winced as Death glared even harder. “What? He takes forever to make up his mind. Why would I work with him?”
Death considered. “Fair enough. He is slow. But Justice, Knowledge, even Mercy and War were all available. I know, I checked.”
She hadn’t, but Love didn’t know that.
“Fine. I screwed up. I don’t know HOW I screwed up, but somehow I did. Help?”
Death sighed. “Fine. I’ll help. But you’re going to have to do a lot of the work on this one Love.” Her sister nodded enthusiastically. “Under the supervision of Wisdom.” Her sister nodded, but this time less enthusiastically.
“Wisdom!” The call made the small black void, where Death kept her worktable and chairs, ripple. Suddenly she and her sister were in her Throne Room at the heart of her domain. Wisdom would likely be less inclined to prattle here. No one but her liked her throne room. Too creepy, or something. She personally didn’t see it.
A walking skeleton retrieved a high back seat made from the black-painted bones of sinners for Love, as bats fluttered around the two of them, greeting them cheerfully. “Wisdom! We need your help!”
An old man appeared at the far end of her throne room. He was hunched, not from age, but fear as he shuffled in. Bats greeted him happily as well, but for some reason he seemed disinclined to Death’s friendly pets.
Death waved them off, and the bats disappeared into the rafters far above. There they would wait for her call.
“Hello dear sisters. How may I assist you today?” Wisdom stood straight now, as he stroked his long wispy beard and walked into the center of the chamber. His book that contained every philosophical work, and rambling of madmen too ever be penned was chained to the belt at his hip. It hung there loosely waiting to be of use.
“That.” Death pointed to the mortal far below. “Help her with it. Help her guide the mortal through his ascension and mitigate the imbalance to his soul.”
“Has Fate been able to weigh in on this issue yet dear sister Death?” Wisdom asked, as he examined the mortal more closely.
“No. But I can read his fate written as clearly as you can. Without intervention, he will become a force of pure destruction. Then, our enemy will once again have a path into the mortal realm, as no one with the right Authority will rise in time to stop their next invasion attempt.”
“Yes, I can see it too. Clear as daylight. We will mitigate this damage dear sister Love, then? We will go speak to Fate.”
Death suppressed a shiver of her own.
Fate, the eldest of the Gods though far from their leader, was difficult for Death. They shared many of the same aspects, many of the same interests and abilities. After all Death was the ultimate and final fate of most souls in the universe. Even so, fate unnerved her. That woman always seemed to know too much about things she should never have known.
As soon as Wisdom was finished speaking, Love disappeared and reappeared next to him. She took his arm in hers, and with a smile led him out of the throne room. They were already making plans and discussing exactly how she could fix her blunder.
Love was like that. One moment an air headed child, the next a grown woman eager to be about her duties. Death knew her other siblings found it tiresome, but she knew it was just her sister's nature. Fickle, even in the fact of being fickle, as some loves transcended time, space, and even death.
As her brother and sister left, Death considered. She had power over many things, and she did not entirely trust the success of her siblings. Especially if Fate would be involved soon.
“Yes, a contingency. It has been sometime since I have ventured elsewhere. Perhaps it is time for me to take a brief vacation. If I remember right, Earth is nice this time of year.”