> The most used vessel in all the Utter Islands is the dugout canoe, or bangka in Selorong languages. Only takes a few days to make, and can go through both river and shallow sea. Recently, however, with the mounting volume of trade and travel, the outrigger ship has become the go-to vessel for all kinds of travel. Kings, chiefs, lords all compete with each other in showcasing who has the better barge.

>

> From Movement of the Winds Volume 2

The river barge to Imos Town was a double-decker outrigger ship, showing off giant sails that could be easily folded should the river move through an arboreal canopy. It was at least 20 tails long, caulked, and had spirit rowers on either side, who were enjoyably munching on euphoria pills as payment for their rowing, for they never tired in the same way human slaves would.

The captain of that ship was a half-spirit woman with heavyset dark circles around her eyes, skin the color of the dark brown of her ship. Her torso was clad in baluti, her lower half was covered in a two layered sarong, and she walked upon paruka. Her representative, some would say her atubang, was a smaller, louder woman. Plump and kind, but when she needed to call people to get boarding...

"WE STILL HAVE TEN MORE FREE SLOTS FOR IMOS! COME ON IMOS! WE NEED TO GET THIS PACKED BEFORE WE CAN GO! BARGE FOR IMOS IMOS IMOS!" Her voice boomed over the rest of the callers.

Akazha walked straight past her, up the gangplank, and into the barge. Raxri and Sintra followed. Akazha did not wait for them, and so Raxri and Sintra Kennin had to chase her just to keep up. Eventually she found a seat by the edge of the upper deck, overlooking the river (though this part had a roof overhead to combat the sun).

She sat and puffed. Raxri and Sintra, both breathing heavily, caught up after her.

"Hey," began Raxri. "Pray, tell me, if anything bothers you."

Akazha stayed silent, looking out at the river.

Sintra Kennin said: "I believe she is upset."

Raxri thought about it. Was it because of them trying to stop her from killing the spider? "Be this about the spider?"

Akazha did not look. On the other hand, they seemed to be enjoying fully their pipe.

Raxri sighed. "Forgive me. But it is the Liberation Law. Compassion, loving-kindness... What kind of rival would I be if I couldn't help you control yourself?"

Akazha mopped her face. Looking like a hamster. "Shut up."

Raxri would have began scratching at their own face out of frustration, but they decided to let it be, for now. "Very well," said Raxri, sighing. They pulled out their own pipe and walked over to the other side of the barge.

Sintra Kennin looked around awkwardly. "Uh," he began. "Would you--"

"Keep Raxri company for me, will you?" Akazha forced a smile, and then she looked away and her smile flickered away.

"As you wish," said Sintra Kennin, blinking all the while. He turned and walked over to Raxri.

Raxri leaned against the railing, watching the rest of the people upon the port. It bustled to the brim. It was just about moonrise, after all. Perhaps these are all people going home to Imos Town as well? Raxri heard at least 2 other callers and barkers saying they were headed for Imos Town.

All barges were heading for Imos Town.

Sintra Kennin leaned with them. They stayed like that, silent for a while.

They watched as the workers pulled the gangplank back. The servant spirits walked over to the outriggers and began paddling with oars taller than they were, around 2 tails long. Slowly but surely, the giant barge began moving out of their moorings. It wasn't long before they cruised down the Wetan River's flow. When they did, the servant spirits slowed their paddling. Some of them only needed to paddle to correct the direction of the barge.

They cruised down the river. Raxri asked, without looking at Sintra Kennin: "How long be the travel again, Sintra?"

"I've heard it will take a daypart. I'd suggest resting for a moment, recline. Ease your mind."

"Right." Now would be a great time to meditate, Raxri thought. The barge was filled with people, however. They could not find a good enough spot to sit and absorb. They were still not in that state of samadhi.

Raxri sighed.

"I'm glad they let our weapons on board," said Sintra. "I was certain that they would confiscate it."

"Hm? Oh, that is full true. A sign of the times, eh?"

"Should the barge be attacked by monsters, there will always be someone to protect it as long as the passengers have weapons," said Sintra Kennin. "If I knew it was anything than a cost-cutting measure, I would have applauded it!" He laughed. Raxri cracked a smile as well.

Sintra Kennin was too afraid to talk about the tension between them and Akazha. Raxri appreciated it, nevertheless. There was nothing that had to be said, for now. Time must pass, as the river flows.

Raxri turned and their heart almost dropped when they did. Off in the distance, a tall man--though not as tall as Sintra Kennin--clad in that armor. Lamellars and brigandines and tassets of interlocking, interweaving dragon scales. Pheasant feathers long and flowing form the top of their peaked helmet.

They took that helmet off when they approached Akazha.

Akazha meditated while leaning against the railings of the barge. She did not need to be thinking about anything right now. She had to forgive Raxri--she knew that was the better thing to do. Or worst, ignore whatever they tried to do. But things done in her fits of fury are more easily justified.

She knew that was delusion too. The Mind, however, is a wild, leaping thing.

She mopped her face. Took out a pipe. Lit it, puffed out smoke. It wafted from the dragon.

"Does the smoke help alleviate your troubles?" A voice. Deep, inflection of a gentleman.

Akazha scowled. She did not want to be troubled as of the current moment. She looked sideways without turning her body and saw that it was that Shennin man. The warlord looking motherfucker. The general-turned-adventurer looking motherfucker.

Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

"I would know," he said, smiling. "It helps me."

"Grand," said Akazha. "However, I seek no companionship as of this moment. Please, space."

They both spoke in Putunghwa.

"A-ah, yes. Of course. Forgive me." He put on his helmet again, as if defeated. He had a full lock of hair beneath them, matted and straightened so that it didn't interfere with his war-vision. "I would stay here and rest. If it is all right with the lady."

"It is not," barked Akazha back. "Leave me. There are plenty of other women you can try and fuck."

"M-milady! I...! I meant no such thing!" He genuinely did sound so offended. It made Akazha smile. "I was... I was simply meaning to ask something."

"Then ask? Why did you not ask it beforehand?"

"What would the pearlescent milady's name be?"

"Wrong question." Akazha subdued the urge to kick the man in his balls.

The warrior coughed. "I am Lieutenant Jin Sat Lang of Southeastern Shen, deployed in Fort Arajizo of the Southwest Wadzaran Desert."

Akazha rolled her eyes and said: "I don't quite remember me asking what your name was?" She still did not turn to look at him.

At this point, Akazha knew that he was trying to get something out of her. What she wanted did not matter. Her hands were ready to go into the two-handed animal hand seals. If this man wanted a commotion, then he will get it.

"I was hopeful that with such a name I would be able to wring out a modicum of cooperation."

"You have failed. Leave and try again next time." She puffed out smoke. Her Will blazed, controlled by her samadhi. Ready to unleash into magick or violence, the two sides of a single coin.

"I am simply come to ask again... have you seen the Heaven Dancer, Raxri Uttara?"

Akazha sighed. Smoke coiled from her lips. She turned.

Lieutenant Jin Sat Lang grinned smugly.

"What are you grinning for? This is the second time you have disturbed my peace to look for that Raxri Uttara. I do not know who that is. I have never seen a cloud-headed 'heaven dancer' in my life. Now if you do not leave me be, things will get horribly loud."

Jin Sat Lang's curved blade was partly unsheathed. It looked huge, a Shennin scimitar. "I would advise against any rash action, witch Akazha." His voice was low, now. Both demeaning and threatning. Akazha's scowl only grew. "Everyone on this barge knows who I am and what I am. None of these sheep will move for you."

He was right. Everyone moved around the decks without a care for Jin Sat Lang, despite him bearing the most flamboyant of armors upon a river barge. There will be no help from them. Aside, of course, from Raxri Uttara and Sintra Kennin.

Akazha sighed. Using her samadhi, she felt out to feel the strength of Jin Sat Lang's Cultivation. It burgeoned like a flower and crashed against her, wave to the shore. He was a stage or two above her, to be sure.

Her thoughts lingered again to Raxri Uttara of the Past. Who were they, really? Were they truly an enemy of heaven?

Thankfully, Akazha wore clothing lined with yantra and mantra. Her tattoos also protected her. Should she bruise from what she was about to do, she will be able to fend off most of the harm from her vitals.

Was she really going to do this? In her samadhi, her swords pointed invisibly at Jin Sat Lang.

"The captain of this ship saw you enter this very barge with two other people. A tall black human and a... cloud haired swordmaiden. What does this reveal, Akazha Han Narakdag?"

Her scowl became even greater. "Tell me what you wish to do."

"Oh, I wish to take Raxri Uttara and bring them straight to heaven. Then I will be awarded with immortality, and I can stop being an intern at a warlord's broken home, and enjoy the pleasures of power and heaven. I would not think that to be such a worthless endeavor. I believe that to be quite reasonable."

"Reasonable for a lesser man, yes," said Akazha. "To crave such power is a sign of an idiot, and not of the holy kind."

Jin Sat Lang's giant scimitar was against Akazha's neck. Nicked it. Drew blood. "Tell me where Raxri Uttara is or your head falls off of this barge and becomes feed for the dragons of the river--"

Raxri was there, suddenly, Devastating Red Hand slamming against Jin Sat Lang's face.

When Raxri saw all of this go down, they and Sintra Kennin watched with curious horror. They knew that this was the Shennin general that searched for them. Sintra Kennin said: "We should go."

"Calm. Akazha knows what she does."

They watched for a few more moments.

Jin Sat Lang pulled out his scimitar and pressed it against Akazha.

"Does this statement hold even now--" Sintra Kennin began, but Raxri was already sailing through the air, fist burning bright scarlet. They did not even unsheathe Puksa.

Their Devastating Red Hand crashed against Jin Sat Lang's face.

The trees behind them shuddered. The boat rocked to the right. Everyone on board cried out, clinging for dear life.

The Lieutenant's face only slightly budged from the impact.

Raxri scowled. Akazha breathed, then felt the razor sharp of Jin's scimitar prick her skin.

"So this is the cloud-headed fiend. THIS is Raxri Uttara?" Jin Sat Lang grabbed Raxri by the wrist--quicker than they could take it back--and pulled the Heaven Dancer down, down, down. Until their corpus cracked against the railing of the ship.

Both wind and spit left Raxri. They were reeling. Inner Winds scrambled. Inner Lightnings shooting out in every direction. Their core meridians caved in.

They could not even speak.

Jin Sat Lang turned around. Brought Raxri with him. He forced Raxri to their feet, and then brandished his scimitar. "Put on a good show, Raxri Uttara!"

Raxri shook their head, clapped their hands against their face. They recentered. Lieutenant Jin Sat Lang allowed them to regain their concentration. Their battle samadhi.

"Who are you?"

He raised his scimitar. It gleamed crimson against the setting sun. "I am Lieutenant Jin Sat Lang, of the Shennin Colony of Fort Arajizo of Southwest Wadzara. My deeds are yet unknown to you lot, but that shall not be the case overlong! The world will know my name!"

Raxri Uttara unsheathed Puksa, and then readied their live hand, imbuing it with Whorl Guard so that it was steel against the scimitar's blows.

"No great proclamation from They Who Danced Against The Heavens? From the Thundering Swordmaiden Raxri Uttara?"

Murmurs rippled across the crowd. They've moved to opposite ends of the barge.

Raxri's eyes flitted from side to side, unsettled. They had no space for words. When their Will's flame flickered back to life, they engaged it immediately, manipulating it through their Internal Winds. Subtle Body burst through. They dashed forward.

So did Lieutenant Jin Sat Lang.

Despite his heavy looking armor--which looked not too different from the heavy lamellars that Sintra Kennin wore--he moved with storm quickness. He was taller than Raxri by a full claw and that gave him the advantage no doubt. But the Adamantine Sword relished in the disparity of space when it came to shorter versus taller warriors.

Jin Sat Lang lunged forward with both hands on his scimitar. His first move was a diagonal scimitar slash. This Raxri moved into, moving diagonally to his left, to both avoid the slash and to also cut at his gauntleted hand. Raxri felt Puksa slice against the gauntlet, but it no doubt dealt some blunt force trauma.

Raxri, now in a position where Jin Sat Lang's back was turned to them, unleashed Adamant Lightning Strikes.

Twelve strikes in the span of two breaths.

Puksa's gleaming blade clanged and carved against the scale armor.

Jin Sat Lang kicked backwards. A move known by the many martial artists onboard as Horse Defies The Rider. Raxri caught the blow fully on the chest. The force sent them flying backwards. They had to steady themself with their Light Body Technique.

Gasping for air, Jin Sat Lang spun around and unleashed a slash of razor wind from his scimitar. Ready for it, Raxri took on the wide stance of Heavenly Lightning Deflection. They timed it nigh perfectly, the attack shattering against their deflection.

But that move was nothing but a distraction.

Jin Sat Lang was already upon Raxri. Their hulking figure blotted out the sun. Their scimitar, giant, in an arc of mortal karma. It swung down. Raxri blocked against it too late. Their Whorl Hand shattered. Their Will faltered. Their tattoos strained against the sheer damage inflicted by Lieutenant Jin Sat Lang.

Raxri used Whorl Guard to redirect the attack to their left, as they dove to their right. It was the right choise. The blade crashed into the deck's bamboo slat floor. Raxri spun and hit the ground, steadied themself.

Their entire left hand blossomed purple. The interweaving of all of Raxri's defensive talismans forced the slashing energies to be turned into blunt force. Of course, despite that, despite that. Raxri felt like their hand had been broken all the same.

Lieutenant Jin Sat Lang turned, and he seemed as regal as ever, even after unleashing such monstrous strength. "No. What a fucking disappointment you are!"

Raxri reached for their breath. It took all of them not to fall onto their knees. Their entire left arm felt like it was out of commission. "This is not the Raxri Uttara I was promised. There is no glory in this!"

Raxri still could not speak. Lieutenant Jin Sat Lang walked forward. He raised his scimitar. An executioner. "Nevertheless, a bounty is a bounty. Immortality awaits!" All this time he spoke in that accented Bazaar Kyarpan. When he brought his scimitar down, he snarled something in Putunghwa; in his native tongue.

The arc of his scimitar was a brush stroke across the sky. It flurried. The strength and speed and weight at which it moved seemed to attract all focus upon his blade. It was an arc of deliverance.

It slashed the sky first before its burning arc cleaved downward.

Down.

Down.

Down.

Straight toward the fully blown wide open Raxri Uttara.