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The Last Ship in Suzhou
Interlude - Pray for the Death of a Dynasty

Interlude - Pray for the Death of a Dynasty

Zhu Feiyan

This Princess was the eleventh daughter of her line, but when she was born, she was the fifth of five survivors.

Father still has no sons. Don’t you think your mother deserves a little punishment for disappointing the Emperor a fourth time? He must move on from her.

As they stood before the Skyforge in the dead of night - with its many burning pools that hissed and spat like a funeral pyre, Feiyan missed her mother.

In one hand she held a bar of bronze, and with her other Feiyan clutched the talisman in her pocket. The oblong slip of paper had been inked in the heartblood of her ancestor - of her mother’s ancestor.

The family of Zhu Who Taught the People may have flattened the mountains and forded the seas, but they had never produced an Immortal.

These same words echoed in every sect - orthodox or demonic - as surely as they did in every commoner's home. They haunted the cave of every sleeping hermit and passed through every boudoir parlor. In a world where power was prestige and respect was only given to those who earned it, the largest pods caught in that millstone of expectation and result were by far the most miserable beans.

No, this talisman had come from her mother's side of the family. To Feiyan, it represented a fate that was more clear, more beautiful, and more bright than that of the Eleventh Princess in the House of Zhu.

Feiyan was shaken from her thoughts by the soft melody of the Sword's voice.

"Observe with your eyes."

In her fingers was the compass she had shown them earlier. A modern compass was well contained and compact, with an iron needle that pointed north behind a face of glass. This one, however, came in two pieces - a round plate of scratched bronze that could fit neatly into Feiyan's palm and a worn down bronze cup the size of her thumb. The cup had a pointed, discolored spout - this alone a rusted iron.

"Reach out with your qi."

Feiyan obliged, letting her qi seep through her open apertures to mingle with that of the world, trying to coat everything around her like a soft blanket. She felt that whispering scratching chewing of Senior Sister Chow's qi press against her like a palm on the back of her neck. The Sword, she moved between Chow Mulan and them her prey. The feeling abated.

The Fourth Princess? She may be the greatest of us, but in the Great Sects are gifts from Heaven that you cannot imagine, Feiyan. Talents so tyrannical that even our virtuous Father would quake if he stood beside them. This is not heresy. This is reality.

Fairy Guan's fingers gave the cup a deft twirl on the center of the square plate and it began to spin like a child's toy. Soon, its momentum ran out and it spun to a stop. Feiyan looked around to get her bearings, identifying the misty Sword Peak as north and west.

The lip of the cup, then, was pointed away from Sword Peak.

“How was the Cord tied to the Hub? How was the Heavenly Pole added to them? What did the Eight Pillars hold up?”

The voice of Chow Mulan pierced the night. “And why is there a gap to the southeast?”

“Clever girl. Do you know the origin of that question?”

If only Feiyan could receive a sliver of the fondness that the Sword Fairy had for her Senior Sister.

Mulan shook her head, with an infuriating little smile on her lips that made it impossible to tell if she was pretending.

The Sword nodded lightly. “It would be a shocking thing if you had known. The Heavenly Questions are asked of cultivators by the sky during the most trying moments of their lives. It is known, even in a lower realm like our own, that these are the questions Venerates in the fields above search ceaselessly for the answers to.”

“Why are they searching?” The question had tumbled past Feiyan’s lips before she could stop herself.

To her surprise, Fairy Guan didn’t seem angered by this lack of respect. “I have no idea,” said the Sword, giving her a smile so indulgent it made Feiyan’s heart skip. Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “All of you remember entering the Sect on the night of the lantern lighting, don’t you?”

Feiyan and her three friends, if they would allow her to call them that, nodded frantically.

“This Peak Master must confess, the question that she asked you might have sounded meaningful and intense in the moment, but it was indeed made up on the spot. Compared to the questions Heaven might pose, what this lowly Fairy can ask is a scam - a ruse, a sham, a trick of the tale.”

Feiyan didn’t want to believe that. This was surely some kind of test. Otherwise, why had she made that promise to the Fairy when she entered the sect?

“But you are cultivators. Meaning in most cases is what you make of it. The idea of cultivation is not a system of cause and effect, of action and reaction - nothing so easy to predict. Cultivation is worship.”

The Sword gave a dainty shrug that Feiyan knew she would be trying in front of a mirror to emulate - the sooner the better.

“At least that’s what my dearly departed Master said. She had the horrible habit of sounding wise - the downfall of many a cultivator,” said Fairy Guan. A smile, shaded with the slightest tinge of loss, bloomed on her face, balanced by a playful wink.

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This was the woman that the world at large considered its loveliest. Feiyan hoped that the title would fall to her, one day.

“Disciple Tai, Disciple Leng. The pair of you have been as quiet as the mice in my tower. For what purpose has this old woman asked such strange questions and given such impertinent advice?”

Feiyan felt a flash of relief. She hated being put on the spot.

Leng Qitai, who was the far more polite of the pair, tilted his head downwards. “This disciple would never be as crass as to believe that the advice of-”

Kanhu cut him off, with that swashbuckling drawl that came out when he thought too much. “Because stories are important. Worship and belief are important. We were brought here to see if we could inherit the line of the Bells. Amongst those of us who are still Outer Disciples, there are rising stars, brighter than the rest.” He jerked a thumb at Mulan. “And undoubtedly there are disciples higher up in the Sect who are more talented and more diligent than someone like me.”

The Sword nodded, allowing him to continue.

“That tells me plainly that you aren’t testing us for just talent. Far and wide, from Three Blades Bay to the Coral Palace, from the frozen north to the shifting sands of the west, everyone has heard of the Bells of Tianbei and for whom they toll. The Line of the Bells has outlasted two Dynasties and will likely outlast many more.”

Kanhu threw a sudden, wary glance at Feiyan. “I meant no disrespect, Princess,” he said quickly. “I talk too much.”

No dynasty lasts forever, little sister. I fear there isn’t much time left for ours. Ten Generations without an Immortal is a disturbing record of note.

Feiyan found it difficult to be offended on behalf of her family.

“Finish your thoughts,” said Fairy Guan. “We are amongst more than friends here. These are your brothers and sisters.” Her voice was always so soothing, so encouraging. Feiyan wished for all the world that she could be more like the Sword.

“I don’t have any more,” said Kanhu. “I’ve never been known for being too bright.” He gave a little tap to the side of his head.

That simply wasn’t true. Tai Kanhu had the manners of a pig and the mannerisms of a rat, but he was sharper than any of the attendants at the Palace. And probably most of Feiyan’s sisters, too.

“If there isn’t anything more, then I will tell you what will happen,” said the Sword. “You, all four of you, will attempt to forge a compass like mine. Have any of you done any tasks for the Skyforge?”

Only Leng Qitai nodded.

Fairy Guan looked surprised. “What have you done?”

There was a sudden flash of embarrassment on his face. “I delivered drinks to the Core Disciples here from Earth Peak,” he said, his voice trailing off smaller and smaller.

“There is such a thing as being too truthful,” said the Sword, giving him a pat on the head. “What this old woman meant was whether or not any of you have worked on a forging.”

A chorus of no’s.

Fairy Guan pointed at a warm bed of lava, one of the many that made up the Skyforge. “You may drop your bronze bars into the forge.”

Kanhu pitched his bar into the lava and before she knew it was happening, Feiyan’s ears were ringing with the boom of a cultivator flying faster than sound itself. Suddenly, all five of them were ten paces from where they had stood before.

The bar hit the surface of the molten earth, and fire splashed back at where they had been standing.

“Be careful,” said Fairy Guan, shaking her head. “The Skyforge sustains itself on qi and it burns qi as fuel. Did you think the scars on my Senior Brother were for show?”

She led them back to where they stood before. “Put the rest of the bronze into the Forge. Lightly.” The Sword stared directly at Daoist Chow, who had pulled her arm with the bar all the way back and had stuck her tongue out at Kanhu.

Mulan pouted, then bent forward and pushed the bar in. Qitai followed her lead. Feiyan slipped her own bronze bar into the Skyforge as gingerly as she could and immediately whipped herself back, but the bar barely disturbed the surface.

“Are the four of you familiar with pushing your qi out through specific apertures?”

“We are!” Qitai proclaimed. He had shown his roommates how to do so, after all.

“Good,” said Fairy Guan softly. She took out a pouch from within her robes and emptied it into the same pool of lava they’d all deposited their bronze into. A dark grey powder fell into the Forge, which greedily accepted it. “Iron,” she said, waving the pouch, which she then returned to a hidden pocket. “Come closer.”

The disciples inched forward.

“I will guide the Forging. You will hold your hand over the Skyforge, push your qi towards the Forge and let it consume your qi. You will repeat these names - to commit them to memory, because this is the Line of the Bells. There will be two hundred and fifty eight names.”

The disciples held their hands over the Skyforge and for just a moment, Feiyan wanted to jump back. Her other hand reached for her talisman but she stopped herself. She had seen the Fairy’s qi, the way it cut, the way it sliced, the way it severed, and it scared her so much-

The Sword, she stared up at the sky and began to speak. “Raiser Xu.”

The Sword, she waited for her disciples to repeat her words and then continued. “Water Bearer. The Viper from Qiaoxin. Han Zilong.”

Feiyan repeated each after the Fairy. This was a line that exceeded the age of her Dynasty.

“The Forgotten Prince. Weeping Wisteria. Shao Tianhe. Old Hammer Cha,” Feiyan echoed, determined to remember.

Bronze began to rise from the lava, drop by drop.

“Cun Lao Chi. Dongfang Kai. Winged Dancer.”

As name after name poured from Feiyan’s lips, as the qi she’d gathered since arriving at the Ascending Sky poured from her fingers, the compass began to take shape. Feiyan had lost count of the names long ago, but the Bells of Tianbei had begun ringing.

“Fourteenth Son. Vale Hunter. Shoreside Mother.”

The dawn was approaching, turning the sky clear, blue and bright. Feiyan felt a slight pressure between her eyes and then - a song that she’d never heard before. For a moment, she thought it had been the voice of Senior Sister Chow.

“Castaway, dive - caverns deep, bind the skies beneath the shores. Iron blood and loyal hearts, let the Link open the door.”

No, this was the prayer of a Celestial Venerate.

“Iron Tiger,” said the Fairy.

“Iron Tiger.”

The compass was fully formed and its needle began to spin.

“The Widow of the Valley.”

“The Widow of the Valley.”

The qi leaving Feiyan’s fingertips was more dense than anything she could have imagined, but she did not care. The song - it was getting fainter and fainter.

“The Sword,” intoned the Sword.

“The Sword,” repeated her disciples.

“The Sword of Hearts,” spoke Feiyan.

Feiyan felt the curious eyes on her but she was straining her ears to hear the song of the skies.

Cultivation is an aspiration for more important daughters, Yanyan. Do you know why Louli has allowed this old woman to wander for a century as a princess?

Did she dare?

She did.

“Zhu Feiyan.”

The needle halted, pointing South and East.