27

War!

It is ugly when immortals fight and plunge the heavens in endless war. Since they are incapable of dying, only the cycle of violence that removes wholeness and peace remains. Hence, it was crucial to remove war from the twenty-four realms the moment it reared its grotesque head.

The rebels thought they were launching a sneak attack. They were wrong. Their plots were all exposed to the light even before the battle began. The King and the Bride did not participate. While they took part in duels, intentional violence was not something they indulged in. The reason is simple. It would be unfair to any one opposing them. A drop of the power residing in even one of them is enough to destroy all the realms if violence was activated in them. Neither of them would fight an adversary who is not an equal. To fight fairly, they would have to be divested of all power.

Before the sun rose that fateful morning, the armies of the King were already deployed according to plan. In fact, only the twenty-four generals and the four brothers as well as their soul beasts took part in this battle. The power they had was enough to meet the resistance of the rebel forces of Jiàn Shēng. The latter fought with an army that included one-third of the Tiānshǐ and their soul beasts.

Jiàn Shēng was depending on an inner wager. He knew that the King and Bride would not personally battle him as it would go against their sense of justice and fairness. He took advantage of this and determined that he still stood a chance against the rest who were equals. A small error on their part was enough for him to get away with theft and ransom.

The Tiānshǐ on the side of the King and his armies were already in their designated realms to keep the living creatures calm. The star gates were activated and glowing blue.

Xióng Zhǎn sat astride Zǐ Xīn, ruggedly handsome and strong. There was a bull-like determination in his eyes but it was tinged with deep sadness as he watched into the distance. His deep, blue armor shone like a faceted jewel, and the lion emblazoned on the breastplate looked alive with fiery orange eyes. His indigo cape fluttered in the wind behind him. The dagger the Bride had given him in the past, sat securely in the cords of his wrist guard. He lay waiting closer to Huǒrè de bǎolěi and had sent some of the Tiānshǐ to help those on the northern front. In his right hand, he held the fractured, brass javelin he had fashioned. It could be infused with any elements to change its combat powers.

Zǐ Xīn’s feathers of pink and blue were flaming with ethereal fire of matching colors. He preened them so that they would become the best frost arrows when required.

Pèi Zhōng was dressed in green armor and brown cape. His hair was characteristically held high in a ponytail with the light, green jade crown. He held a sword in his hand that he had crafted for this battle. In the other hand, there was a battle-axe, the head was of yellow living stone and the haft was of fine, carved wood. In his waist belt, he hid the dove made of a single pastel, yellow pearl. He stood beside Jiā Háo who was licking his left paw indifferently. His white mane and blue braids were held back in a helmet. He proudly wore the armor the King had given him as they waited close to the eastern front.

Zhì Shēn stood beside Wáng Léi. Both were in white armor with pastel blue, carved edgings. He did not care to pin his hair up. It flew wildly in the wind. He held the yellow dizi the Bride had given him, along with his seven-stringed guqin. These were not ordinary musical instruments. Nothing in his possession was simple. They were weapons of strategy and were set to play in accordance with musical notes. Each note would deliver a shock of increasing intensity to the unfortunate recipient. The flute could open temporary portals akin to quicksand at the precise distances determined by the notes of an octave. Zhì Shēn positioned himself close to Méiguī shān. At its entrance, he had placed a very heady mix of perfumes that had the power to knock-out those who breathed it in. They would sleep till awakened by the antidote he had prepared. That way, he could rush to the western front if they needed him.

Wáng Léi was stomping his foot in anticipation of the battle while the smoke bellowed from his nose and his eyes blazed with fire. he was in his full-grown form with all three horns out in full glory.

Yīng Fēng had his golden-white hair pulled into a high bun so it would not bother him as he sped around. His slate grey tunic was held by a thick copper belt. His sandals were likewise held by copper strings but this time there was a difference. The soles were spiked and that was the only weapon he needed for his speed was matchless. He did carry the gilded ram’s horn which the Bride had gifted him and could be used to summon whatever he needed. Anyone fighting him was almost never as quick in their response. This day, he sat outside the southern front along with Ān Jìng. She wore a simple, silvery coronet on her head that matched the tips of her white feathers. This day, Bèi Yǎn was with her. Bèi Yǎn would help them with offense as she was a deadly combatant.

Bái Fēng moved freely among the different fronts. His luxurious mane was done up in braids held with diamond pins. He shone with a soft, shimmery, light gold as the first lights began to come up on the horizon.

Likewise, the twenty-four elders were all dressed for war along with their soul beasts.

Jiàn Shēng sat confidently astride Wěi Hóng. His golden armor shone in brilliance. There was none as beautiful as it in crafting, with its engraved vines, fitted stones and silken under-robes. His raven-black hair appeared glossy and was partly held in braids with little moonstones nestled in them. He held his crafted, crystal sword which was perfect for the water moves he had learnt from the Bride. In his other hand, he held the spear he usually used for dueling. In his belt he hid the mirror the Bride had given him. He hoped to enhance and use it to create mirages and illusions. Wěi Hóng appeared strong and muscular as he was ready for combat and his golden-feathered wings were ready for flight. His tri-colored scales were up such that the red-side was above to the right and the bronze to the left. The gold side which acted like a mirror was underneath and away from view lest it drew attention prematurely.

Jiàn Shēng’s armies were also arrayed for battle along with their respective soul beasts. Bái Láng had appointed chiefs to lead the charge against the different realms. He sat haughtily on his gigantic, grey wolf, Yāo mó who had emerald-green eyes.

The morning wind was fragrant and caressed everyone playfully. There was a deadly calm that had descended upon the realms. It was unusually quiet. There was not even the sound of a bird’s call. Jiàn Shēng had decided to attack the realms from the very center. His armies waited southwards close to the portal that opened into the mortal realm. This portal was theirs and unguarded by the heavenly forces. From there, they rushed upwards in a mighty whirlwind. Once they got to the center of the peaceful, unsuspecting kingdom, they planned to spread out and charge the gates of each realm.

Bái Láng was glad. There were no sentries or generals at their posts yet, or so he thought. At Jiàn Shēng’s signal, they rushed forward and tried to break through the star gates. The force of the attack looked like a powerful wave of energy surging uniformly outwards in all directions. It was like when stars explode when they die. The realms shook under the power of the attack and the living creatures felt the quaking.

The generals shouted out to their respective armies, ‘Hold your ground. Do not attack as yet! Keep the living beings calm!’

The Tiānshǐ appointed as guardians in each realm knew how to calm the specific kind of living beings they were in-charge of. Some groomed them, others played various musical instruments. Some whispered calm words to the beasts while others lulled creatures to sleep through the evil storm.

Much to Jiàn Shēng’s consternation, the star gates themselves did not budge nor did his armies gain entrance into the realms. To the contrary, there was an equal force to the one they applied that boomeranged towards them from each of the star gates. This caused his armies to be swept back towards the center. While they were still reeling with the force that hit them, a mist began rising quickly obstructing their view. Then the King’s signal went forth. The trumpets sounded in unison. It was eerie for there had never before been such a sound of war in the heavens. In appearance the trumpets were like horns the size of killer whales in the mortal realms. They curved like the tusks of elephants and filled the heavens with a battle-sound that caused the enemy armies to tremble with fear. The roar surrounded them through the mists which slowly started to lift.

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Then Jiàn Shēng and his allies saw how deeply they were in trouble. The twenty-four generals and their soul beasts were standing outside the star gates. The four battle fronts had one of Jiàn Shēng’s brothers leading the charge along with their soul beasts. Moreover, Bái Fēng was flying overhead mustering the courage of those on his King’s side.

Yīng Fēng attacked those closest to the southern front. He flew with such speed between them that they did not know what or who hit them. Together with Ān Jìng, he grabbed as many weapons away from the opposing force, casting them through the nearest star gates to prevent their retrieval. Those who tried to fight him momentarily thought they had either him or Ān Jìng in their hands. What they were left with were painful wounds from his spikes and her beak. Whenever the pile of confiscated weapons piled up, he blew on his ram’s horn summoning the guardian Tiānshǐ in the southern realms. They marked the weapons and took them to a depository so that they could be dealt with later. Bèi Yǎn had gone on the offensive to help Ān Jìng. She easily used her beak to pierce through enemy armors and hands, causing them to drop their weapons as they shrieked in pain.

The eastern front was not faring well for Jiàn Shēng’s forces. The unassuming Pèi Zhōng had wreaked havoc there along with the generals in those realms who charged at his command. He swung his sword and battle-axe simultaneously on either side with great power. Both his hands were equally strong and his smashes broke through helmets and armors with single swipes. The soul beasts and their masters who dared to get in his way were first met with the roar of Jiā Háo which froze them in their paths of attack. Some of the enemy forces cast dark smoke to blind Pèi Zhōng and Jiā Háo but underestimated the latter’s sense of smell. Even with limited vision, the two were a force to reckon with and always found their targets. Those who had greater powers were disadvantaged as the lion could absorb their powers and gifts so that they were momentarily left without either. However, Pèi Zhōng being Pèi Zhōng did what only he would do in such perilous times. He released the yellow, pearl dove he had hidden in his belt. It became animated and as it flew over those he injured, it dropped bottles of balm and medicine that he had prepared for them so their wounds could heal faster.

The war was very interesting on the western front. Zhì Shēn and Wáng Léi were charging with nothing short of the power of a wall that could not be broken down. Those hit by the force of that bull went flying in different directions as he chose to fling them with one of his three horns. The unlucky ones were struck by all three and he had to shake his head violently to get them off before trampling on them.

Someone tried to provoke Zhì Shēn who was holding musical instruments and looking most dignified like he would break out in a song while the heavens burnt. ‘You stupid musician!’ the poor fool yelled. Zhì Shēn gracefully flew off his mount and landed in the thick of the battle front. He threw his guqin into the air and simultaneously took out his dizi. As he played on the latter, the former’s strings twanged and broke out. They were turned into lashes of blue energy that whipped the ones who tried to provoke him, leaving red marks on them. When they grouped and tried to attack him all at once, he changed his tune and the temporary portals opened at distances he chose. The portals sucked those close to it and caused them to be stuck within it. If they moved, they would sink further. Wáng Léi pushed those further away from the portals into those large pits of heavenly quicksand. Those appointed by Jiàn Shēng to break into Méiguī shān were hit by the sleep mixtures Zhì Shēn had lit there in advance, rendering them useless.

The battle was fiercest in the northern front where Xióng Zhǎn and Zǐ Xīn were in direct combat against Jiàn Shēng and Wěi Hóng. The former kept changing the enhancements he used on his javelin so that the latter was kept engaged without rest due to the changing tactics and powers of the weapon. Further, Xióng Zhǎn had never revealed the full extent of his strength in any of his duels against his brother. This time, he employed his full power shocking Jiàn Shēng whose speed and light-footed tricks were insufficient against such sheer force.

Zǐ Xīn had taken the blue, fire phoenix form and sent his frost arrow feathers flying in different directions as he twirled around the forces attacking him. To overcome Wěi Hóng, the phoenix stirred up a storm of whirlwinds that caught combatants into the air and sent the dragon and his master into its upper currents. For those who remained on the ground, the phoenix sent choice, fiery moonstones from his claws hurtling upon their heads.

At some point, Xióng Zhǎn and Jiàn Shēng came face-to-face.

‘Why do you fight me brother? Join me! It is not too late!’ Jiàn Shēng pleaded like a young boy.

‘Why do you not give up this foolishness and come to your senses?’ Xióng Zhǎn retorted.

‘Never! I have too much to lose. I will not lose her!’ Jiàn Shēng said with a forlorn laugh and stubborn tone as their weapons clashed.

At a pivotal point, Wěi Hóng gathered a mist to cloak his master from his foe. It was at the exact time when Zǐ Xīn sent a volley of frost arrows in their direction. Wěi Hóng imitated his master’s voice and cried in deep agony as if he was struck. While the wound could never be a mortal wound, it was enough to cause Xióng Zhǎn distress for he had never heard such a cry of pain before. Not wanting to harm his brother in such a manner, he mounted Zǐ Xīn and they neared the thick mist. Suddenly, Zǐ Xīn perceived the dragon’s tail swish towards them in a fell swoop. There was something wrong. It was barbed for Wěi Hóng had mounted sharp thorn-like weapons onto it. As the phoenix halted mid-flight and tried to move to the side, the tail caught both mount and rider, lodging them into the air and wounding both severely.

Bái Fēng saw what happened and rushed forward. He stomped on the tail of the dragon causing the attached thorns to burn off under the fire of his impenetrable hooves. He got close enough to his injured comrades, allowing Zǐ Xīn and Xióng Zhǎn to mount him. The phoenix returned to his eagle form and size. The bold horse spread out his wings and flew directly over the dragon and Jiàn Shēng. He easily weaved away from the dragon’s attempts to catch him, flying and jumping over hurdles and even dislodging the spear in Jiàn Shēng’s hand much to the latter’s chagrin.

Bèi Yǎn sensed the trouble as she was bonded to Bái Fēng. She quickly flew over to the northern front and saw what had happened. As she flew beside the horse, she spoke to Zǐ Xīn.

‘I will try and provoke that wretched dragon! When I signal, use your arrow and dislodge a scale of his,’ the hummer said, adding, ‘Can you still muster the frost arrows?’ Zǐ Xīn nodded his head in the affirmative.

Bèi Yǎn made herself transparent and flew up against the dragon’s face. When she was right in front of him, she revealed herself and perched between his eyes on his snout. It was annoying and the dragon shook his head mindlessly for she was now flying in unpredictable directions before him. Jiàn Shēng peered over sensing the annoyance of his soul beast. He saw the hummer. However, he hesitated to attack for two reasons.

First, she belonged to the Bride and he could not bring himself to earn his beloved woman’s ire by hurting her soul beast. Second, he could not take a clean hit without hurting his own soul beast, such were the flying maneuvers of the little hummer. The dragon started to move his scales to reveal the golden, mirror-like side. There was a sound like that of many rattles as the scales shifted.

While they were thus engaged, Zǐ Xīn mustered his strength and transformed into his blue, fire phoenix form. With a piercing shriek, he released his feathers of frost arrows at the dragon. One of the arrows entered the point of weakness as the scales were moving, lodging itself in the dragon’s flesh. That scale could not move like the rest. The dragon hissed in pain and mindlessly began to blow blue fire towards Bèi Yǎn. Before his master could stop him, he went berserk for the frost was quickly spreading under his scales causing a deep, icy pain that was driving him mad.

The hummer flew straight towards the compromised scale and the dragon turned and attacked her forgetting his aim would also harm his own torso. His scorching fire entered through the space between his scale and flesh causing him to lose consciousness, and free-fall along with a very angry Jiàn Shēng.

As they fell past Bái Fēng, Jiàn Shēng grabbed the still wounded Xióng Zhǎn. This time, he used his hands to try and claw his brother’s face. The latter remembered the dagger in his wrist guard and pulled it out swiftly. With the remaining strength he had, he pierced the arrow into Jiàn Shēng’s heart causing him to pass out in pain. When they hit the ground, the dragon landed on top of Jiàn Shēng, immobilizing him momentarily.

A final trumpet sounded with a single, long blast calling the armies of the King to wrap up the battle and gather with the defeated foes. The King and Bride had witnessed the victory of the four brothers and twenty-four generals in all the fronts. The living creatures in the realms were startled by all the shaking and tremors as waves of energy pommelled their realms with every attack and defense. However, this was contained efficiently by their guardian Tiānshǐ and the battle itself was short though fierce.

The victorious armies pushed the one-third of the opposing forces forward to the center where they had made their initial stand. Now, it was the arena of the defeated and the wounded, soul beasts and masters alike.

Xióng Zhǎn had gathered enough strength to get Jiàn Shēng to the forefront of the gathering. Bái Fēng who could handle great weights had dragged the still comatose Wěi Hóng who was now in his snake-like miniature form.

There would be no dead in such heavenly battles. All the casualties would heal perfectly, some sooner than the others. War is never pleasant especially when the beings are immortal. It would be endless pain and violence without the reprieve of death. For now, the battle had ended. This was the first war in history, and it began in the heavens.