Low columns of mist rose over the flatland marshes beyond Mogu Forest. There, the heat of dawn met with crystalline dewdrops. The air was cool and earthy, each breath rushed into the lungs like soothing waves. It was a welcome change to Mogu’s spore clouds that left a lingering sensation, as though the airways were slick with grime. Nausea tugged at Lin’s stomach long after the cathaya trees had ended and the sporadic stretches of clear freshwater had begun. She wasn’t entirely sure if the feeling had come from the night’s slog through the infested forest or her clash with the grotesque denizens of the Mitsuki Teahouse, though she figured that both were responsible for the tiredness that slowed her every step. Her eyes drifted shut.
Her drowsiness was lifted by the sound of a soft song from the front of the group. The sudden notes disturbed a lone heron that had been silently scanning the water’s surface; she caught a glimpse of the bird taking flight as it fled further afield. Sio paused briefly from time to time to check on Lin whenever she trailed behind, even if only by a little. What a sight they must have made: four wore mud in place of shoes and filthy, ragged clothing that was likely more blood and dirt than material, the fifth was a shining jewel, not a stray hair out of place from the day before. The remaining linen around Lin’s wounds fluttered flimsily as she walked, and the broken flesh stung terribly in the still air. As far as she was concerned, however, it was Ravi that walked the most arduous path. Forced to bear the weight of Fuu on his shoulder and Ai at the end of a thorny lead, it was a miracle that he was still standing. His hands were raw and peppered with small puncture wounds, yet his grip did not give even slightly. Sio had been quick to disapprove of any help Lin offered to the boy, adamantly going on about something that he had to prove. It was clear that the gesture hadn’t been out of her mother’s good will. She hadn’t once commented on the open bite marks that still oozed with congealing blood, nor had she lifted a finger to assist with the danger in the teahouse.
‘You’ll always be my responsibility,’ she had said, but where had she been when Lin fell into the clutches of the living meigui?
By noon, the destination was in sight. They gathered at the marshy foot of Mount Hema. It was a gently sloped mountain with a summit obscured by bamboo. A rocky path stretched out ahead, eventually becoming an ascent of flat, mossy stairs carved into the stone of the mountain. Yellowed leaves littered the ground around them, dead and dry. Odd paper tags had been applied to various stalks of bamboo throughout the climb, each displaying ancient characters of Han in thick, black ink. The symbols were archaic throughout the continent, most of them no longer used by many except scholars. Their meanings had either been lost or were simply too complicated for the people of the Thirty Kingdoms period hundreds of years before, and so a new system of writing began to spread across the continent. Just as the spoken languages of Sakao had merged before the Dark Age of Stagnation, as each kingdom adopted the writing system, they made changes to accommodate the missing sounds of their own written languages. As the decades and centuries passed, that amalgamation of cultures and languages became a shared system of eighty characters known to all as nayakana.
Lin could pick out only a few of the Han readings on the tags. There were numbers counting to ten, as well as what appeared to be words of prayer and protective invocations of gods or higher spirits. A torii gate stood upon its rough stone pillars over the stairs. Hema Shrine lay just beyond. From the ridge up ahead, Sio made a small pirouette and threw her arms open in a welcoming gesture. The shrine had been built into a round basin beside a large pond filled from the mountain’s summit. Sunlight reflected from the pebbles within its bed whilst carp circled one another in a graceful cycle. The area was open and spacious, home to two grand structures and a bare sakura standing at the centre of the courtyard. Chimes met gently in the soft wind, and water trickled quietly along a small stream leading through a low lip in the basin. Shrine attendants were dotted about the grounds, some meditated near the edge of the pond whilst others dutifully tended to the shrine by passing over the wooden verandas with damp rags and gathering clumps of fallen leaves.
Ravi reached the ridge with Lin and Sio minutes later, the burden of his sister and prisoner nearly driving him to the edge of unconsciousness. His breath had become drawn out into a deep wheeze, and his face so flush it looked to be burnt. Ai’s tears and struggles hadn’t lasted, though her seething glower had never left Ravi’s back. The last of the group, Fuu, still hadn’t woken from her sleep, and her condition had only grown worse since the teahouse. Warm and red like her brother, her skin was coated in a sheen of sweat.
Following the steps down to the shrine grounds, the group were met by a pair of eerily realistic statues. With ravenous eyes and lengthy canines, the beasts’ semblance was enough to raise the hairs on Lin’s bandaged neck. The path ahead was laid with gravel, stone tiles at each side, and led through the open courtyard toward the main building. Up on the veranda, a shrine maiden wearing a red dress over a white robe took notice of their approach and quickly dropped to one knee, tapping on the wooden planks beneath her and frantically saying something inaudible. Another woman promptly emerged from the many stout posts that suspended the building a metre or so above the ground, this one with the same face as the last. Masks of matching colours hung from their obi with patterns that imitated the definition of their faces. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes before shooting a dirty look at her twin that quickly escalated into a full-blown squabble by the time the travellers had reached them. Sio only had to open her mouth for the two sisters to fall immediately silent.
“If it isn’t Tsuya and Ashi. You’re looking well, and both a few feet taller than when I saw you last. Would you run along and tell your mother she has a guest?”
The change in the maidens’ faces was instantaneous.
“Mother is no longer with us,” stated the twin on the veranda. “She passed away less than a year ago.”
“She must have been no older than forty,” Sio frowned slightly, but continued on, “I’m sorry for your loss, truly.”
The maiden cast a gaze over the group, briefly pausing at the bound woman at Ravi’s back. Though she gave no remark, her judgement was clear enough to be seen.
“Thank you. She now resides peacefully with the Ten. But enough talk of the dead, your group looks as though they have been through the trial of their lives. A guest of my mother is a guest of the shrine, and it is my duty to serve the will of Heaven. I can offer nourishment and a place to sleep for all that require them, and my sister shall prepare the baths, won’t you, Ashi?” Tsuya pointed, motioning for them to follow. They were led to two adjacent rooms of modest size occupied by futons and small embroidered cushions. “This will be where you may sleep for the duration of your stay. Though mixing of the sexes in residence is usually forbidden here, there will not be enough space for segregation of your group. I trust you can decide upon the rooms among yourselves.”
Ravi was the first to open his mouth, “Fuu and I can take the room on the right. Ai should stay with you.”
“Handing off your prisoner already, Jishun Jie? The girl is your responsibility. Bear the consequences of your decision,” Sio replied. She glanced down at the bloodied vines still tied around Ai’s wrists. A tap from her finger disintegrated the plant into fine dust and the punctures in their swelling skin began to bleed anew. “Tend to her wounds after you’ve both bathed. You can afford her that much.”
“After everything is settled here-” Ravi started, laying his sister carefully upon the ground in his room. Fatigue caught up with him and he lost his balance, collapsing beside her. He shakily climbed to his feet. “I shall have you answer a few questions. The name Sio is not enough. It’s obvious from a glance you’re no ordinary person. I want to know exactly who you are, and how you knew about me.”
The woman flashed Ravi a grin in reply, and disappeared with Lin into her room. Her smile was gone by the time the door closed behind them.
“When you’re ready for the answers, I shall give them to you. Just as promised.”
“We cut through a night of hell for those answers. I’m ready now,” Lin demanded.
“No, you aren’t. I want you to rest for today. This place is safe and you shall face no danger while you are here, that’s a rare privilege. Come now, let’s get you cleaned. Your wounds are nasty but shallow, a little soap will do you a world of good.”
Quarter of an hour had passed before Lin could enter the baths. When ready, she undressed in a small anteroom, leaving the mud-soaked clothes and bloodstained bandages folded on the floor beside the entrance. Steam rushed through the door as soon as she entered, the warm, cleansing air filled her lungs and steadied her nerves. A slow breath left her as she climbed into the hot water, and she felt the rigid tension in her muscles gradually relax while she made herself comfortable on the wide tub’s seating shelf. Ducking her head underwater, she wiped the dried blood from her nose and mouth. The dirt in her hair was stripped by the heat of the soapy water, and when she could finally feel clean again, Lin tilted her head back and allowed her eyes to rest.
She hadn’t intended to fall asleep when she did. Her mind drifted between peaceful memories of home and surreal nightmares. Claws and teeth bit into her from the dark, stripping away her flesh and revealing the pulsing heart beneath. The heat upon her skin and sweat of her forehead only served to intensify her imagination, blending the hallucinations with reality into a sickening fever dream.
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When Lin opened her eyes she was no longer alone. Sio leaned back with her elbows against the rim of the tub. Unsurprisingly, the water around her contained no trace of dirt.
“Is something the matter?” she asked without a hint of her usual drawl. Lin didn’t answer immediately. The visions were still fresh in her mind, and the emotions painfully raw. Dazedly, she lifted her hand from the water and recalled vividly how it had felt to put a knife into another’s chest. Her fingers curled as if still holding its hilt. She hadn’t given it much thought at the time, too caught up in her survival instinct to even try, but in the moment she allowed her unoccupied mind to wander, she soon began to feel quite sick. The nausea would pass, but that feeling of disgust would not be so easy to shake.
“Too many things are the matter and I don’t know how to handle any of them,” Lin said at last. “It’s a strange question. You were the one that started all of this.”
“I won’t try to deny that I’ve hurt you, Lin Ko, nor will I try to excuse the things I’ve done.”
“So tell me why. There’s nothing I have left except for a false mother whose words are as empty as her care. Make me understand the point of it all.”
“I gave you the chance for a childhood. And to grow up,” Sio turned away, biting her lip uncomfortably. “You need food and rest. We can talk however much you like tomorrow.” She rose from the water, her body red from the heat.
Lin seized Sio’s arm and forced the woman to face her, “You said you were going to give me answers, so where are they? I guess it was too much to expect the truth from you after all. You were behind me the entire time in that forest and didn’t lift a finger to help when those things attacked me in the dark, and you knew what we were against in the teahouse yet still stood idly by as they tore into my limbs like bloody slabs of meat.”
“You are meat, and the world around us is swarming with predators. I’ve kept you safe from harm for twelve long years, Lin Ko, and you’re only just beginning to learn exactly what lurks outside of your little bubble. I can’t protect you forever. You unleashed a demon upon Yangwa and saw the horror it was capable of. That same demon has begun to pursue us.”
Lin’s eyes widened, “But that’s- I thought you trapped it.”
“I did. It escaped. For the last few days, it’s been heading this way.”
“How can you tell?”
“Every splinter of Xia’an gives off a distinct signal. The stronger the creature, the stronger the broadcast, though with a little concentration it can be dulled or amplified at will.”
“Is this… another one of your schemes?”
Sio frowned. “No.”
“Then why didn’t you kill it when you had the chance back in Yangwa?” Lin pressed.
“Why? I’d hoped that… no, that’s wrong. After everything, I just couldn’t bring myself to put him down,” Sio admitted. “I created that demon, but more can be born into this world under the right conditions. The wars raging across this continent are creating breeding grounds by the hundred; it’s impossible to tell just how many have already invaded Sakao. Regardless of the hopes and heartaches of the greater nations, it isn’t possible for them all to be victorious. If we want to save anyone, we must first drive those countries to ruin. This shrine will become a staging point for the most heinous political summit in written history.”
“I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
“No, it’s very clear that you don’t. You’re a naïve child with no wider perspective than your own selfish desires. That’s why you tried to leave Solace, and it’s why you nearly put a sword through my back. Learn to see beyond yourself.”
“Sio-” Lin began.
“Stop it. Whining won’t solve your troubles.” Pulling her arm back from Lin’s grip, Sio slipped over the rim of the bathtub and left the girl to her thoughts. “I left some fresh clothes and bandages for you in the next room,” she called behind her, “Get some rest after you’ve finished here.”
Is this really the time for parental impulses? Lin’s annoyance did not settle in her mother’s absence. She waited a while longer in the water, examining her sore bite wounds and tentatively probing her broken nose before eventually following after Sio. The change of clothes turned out to be a spare miko dress identical to that of the maiden twins, complete with a blank white mask resting on top. They fit near perfectly, it was clear Sio had gone to some effort to find them for her. After her obi had been tied a little less expertly than she had intended, Lin combed her hair neatly so that it reached just past her shoulders and headed out into the fresh air of Hema. The afternoon sun had begun to pass over the mountain’s summit, leaving the shrine awash with burned shades of orange. She took a seat upon the stairs leading from the veranda and sat for a while, trying to take peace in the serenity of her surroundings. By the time she had finally decided to make a move, the sun had already fallen out of view. An ochre haze washed over the sky like a canvas of fleeting warmth. Flocks of birds danced elegantly amongst the backdrop, murmurations moving as living shadows.
“Do you know what they are?” Ravi’s voice came from behind.
“Birds,” she answered without turning.
“I see.”
Lin sighed, “They’re some kind of starling. That’s as much as I know.” As she rose to head indoors, Ravi presented a bowl of rice porridge topped with pickled plums. He was already bathed and clean, dressed in the same maroon kasaya robe as the Hema monks.
“For you,” he offered, “By the good grace of Tsuya.”
“Thanks,” Lin tried to say, though her mouth was already full. The bowl was empty within seconds.
“It’s the maidens that deserve your thanks, they’re the ones heeding our every beck and call. None of it makes sense.”
“Why not? We’re guests here, it’s fine to expect a little hospitality.”
“A little, but not this much. These people are only helping us because they recognised that woman with you. Who is she, Lin? Why did she bring us here?” Ravi asked fiercely.
There was a long pause before Lin answered. “I don’t know.”
“If you don’t, then who does?”
“I don’t know,” Lin repeated, “But tomorrow I might. She made a promise to explain everything to me. I plan to make her keep it. If you come along, you might just find the answers you’re looking for.”
Her words seemed to calm the boy somewhat, and his expression began to mellow.
“Alright. I’ll hold you to that.”
“If that’s all, I’m going to go and catch up on a couple days’ worth of sleep. Thanks again for the food.” She placed the empty bowl back into his hands.
“Before you go, I want you to know that I’m grateful for your help in the teahouse.”
Lin smiled, “There’s no need. I’ve a feeling we’d all be dead if not for you.”
“It wasn’t just my life you helped to protect. Because of you, I was able to get my sister back out of that pit I led her into.”
“It wasn’t just her. You saved that Mitsuki girl too. It’s just a shame about what you had to do to get her to safety. She must be distraught, her entire family...”
“Oh, you mean Ai?” he paused. “Her family sought to take our lives. They were too weak, and so paid with their own. There’s nothing more to it than that.”
Lin stepped through the open doorway and glanced back at Ravi, “Really? Then why did you help her?”
“Leaving even one living meigui to prowl that forest would have made my actions there redundant. Maybe I did help her in the process, but she’s in captivity now. She’ll never run free again.”
“If that’s true, you could’ve just killed her. You wouldn’t have had to drag her all the way here.”
“Ai went against her mother’s wishes and stopped me from drinking that poisoned tea. Killing her in cold blood immediately afterward would be a little harsh.”
“And since you’re here, who’s supervising her now?”
“Her own judgement. She won’t try to escape, and if she does, I’ll put her down myself. It’ll save me taking care of her.”
“That’s… cruel,” she said hesitantly.
“Do you think so?” Ravi replied. “I disagree. She’s alive, isn’t she?”
Lin didn’t stay to grace those words with a response. It was clear she had misjudged his character. What did it take, I wonder, for this boy to close his heart to the world around him?
After a week of travel through the mountains and a long night in Mogu Forest, Lin’s body felt heavy as stone. She threw herself onto her futon in a less than dignified manner and fell asleep before she could feel the material on her face.
There was no respite in her dreams. The girl remembered seeing an endless sea of brightly burning stars at the moment the world erupted around her. Darkness enveloped her as living needles burrowed into her flesh and her body was riddled with a thousand sharp pains.
That had been the night of the Earthen Cataclysm- the night that the twin planets were joined together, and the night that the girl named Lin Ko had emerged under the glare of a foreign world.
Voices had sounded in the dark. The pressure upon the girl’s body loosened with their arrival. Moonlight poured into the crevice, illuminating the coagulated strings of blood that stretched and snapped as the thorns curled away from her wounds. She wore dirt-laden puncture marks like freckles. A hand reached down and lifted her into the air by her ankle. To one side was a man that hid his face with a scarf; to the other was a woman whose emerald eyes seemed so painfully lost.
Lin had seen the end as it had come. From the ground a tide of thorny vines had erupted and spread throughout her village of Izuka, tearing through clay walls and straw roofs like paper. The world had seemed to tremble, opening wide gorges with even larger vines the size of trees coming forth from the darkness- yet not even close to the size of those rising over the north-western horizon. With the moon out of sight, the landscape was lit not by lunar light, but by the sunlit surface of another celestial body. Inconceivably long roots spanned the space between the planets, keeping the two from converging in a mutual fiery demise. That night under Zetian’s gaze had been her last in the company of those she loved.
When she awoke, she did so in tears.