The Moon-Soaked Shore is rarely considered of value in any political or strategic circle. But do you know who values them? Fishermen. The moon stones that come from the region make for the best lighthouses and foglights. Many are confused when they hear that, thinking that sun stones or lightning stones may be better, but they forget a simple fact: moonlight doesn’t hurt to look at. – Fisherman Gris from the Moon-Soaked Shores

* * *

The rest of the afternoon was spent with Xinya hanging off my sleeves. I tried to continue my investigation, but everywhere we went, she had something to say that distracted me from my goal.

“Hey, Mister! Come look at the coral jewelry over here! Do you think that it would hold qi like your hairpin does?”

“Mister Cultivator! You said you like fish, you should try some of this soup!”

“Hey Mister! Mister Xian sells swords! Do you like them?”

Every time she led me astray, I let myself be led to whatever attraction she brought me to. It was fascinating to see the town through her eyes.

“And, over there, the other kids like to have snow fights during the winter. But, I’m personally more of a fan of climbing the back of Miss Zhao’s house. They dared me once that I couldn’t do it. Boy, did I show them!”

At the end of the day, as the sun set and the fishermen returned to shore, Xinya dragged me to the docks once more. There, she picked out a single fisherman tying his boat to a post.

“Dad!” she shouted. Immediately, the fisherman turned. A grin spread wide across his face, and he opened his arms wide. She threw herself into his arms. He lifted her off the ground, spinning her in a wide circle and planting a kiss on her cheek.

“How’s my Xinhua?” he asked. Excited words bubbled out of her mouth.

“I made a new friend today!” she pointed to where I was standing quietly to the side. “He’s a cultivator, and he promised that once I’m old enough he’s going to teach me! I can be just like Mom!”

Carrying his daughter, the fisherman approached me. He bowed as deeply as he could while holding her. The awkward position gave me an appreciation for his strength, for a mortal, anyway.

“Honored Cultivator, I thank you for entertaining my daughter while I was away today. I apologize for any hinderance she gave.” Xinya scowled but did not object. I was a cultivator, after all. Though I was the good kind, there were those who would have little patience for a nine-year-old filled with questions.

I bowed my head and smiled. “In truth, it was no trouble at all. I found your daughter to be delightful and brilliant.”

“You honor me with your praise,” he answered, a smile growing on his face. “I am called Lang Tailyn.” I returned the introduction. “Master Tsuyuki is kind to offer knowledge of cultivation to my daughter.”

“It’s really nothing.”

“It’s hardly nothing. Cultivation is a jealously guarded secret to most sects. I’ve only met one other even willing to discuss it with mortals.”

“Xinya’s mother?” I asked, worried I was crossing the line into prying. He nodded.

“She perished fighting the Tide Serpent,” he explained. “My family has lived in Saikan for a few generations, but we met in the imperial capital while I was helping a friend sell his wares. She came here with me, but, in our second year here, I was caught in a storm summoned by the Serpent. She came to get me.”

Xinya interrupted. “She fought the monster for three whole days! And, though she didn’t come back, the serpent was so badly hurt that it’s never come back to the reef again!” She scowled at her father. “You have to tell the story right, Dad.”

He laughed. “Of course, of course. I simply didn’t want to bore Master Tsuyuki with the details!”

“I think she sounds very heroic,” I answered honestly. “That’s the kind of person cultivators should be. Willing to risk their own lives to defend those who cannot defend themselves against the spiritual threats of our world.”

“That’s the kind of cultivator I wanna be!” Xinya proclaimed. “When I’m old enough, you can teach me!”

“Xinya!” her father scolded, but he could barely contain his smile. “Don’t be so presumptuous to the good Master Cultivator.”

I laughed. “One day. One day. But, for now, I should be getting back before Tenri sends a search party out to find me.”

It was only half a joke. I’d not seen Tenri himself since the encounter with the Flower Maiden the night before, and he was probably starting to worry. Not for my safety, of course. More likely worried that I was going to erase reality or something.

I waved farewell to Xinya and her father before making my way back into the busy streets. The lanterns were out by the time I reached Tenri’s household. I spent a few minutes examining the lanterns outside his home, the ones Xinya said were lit with moon tears, then I made my way inside.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

“Welcome back, Master Tsuyuki!” Hanako greeted. Tenri and his father were sitting at the table, playing a game of go. When I entered, he looked up.

“I didn’t think you were coming back after last night,” he said. I looked away, trying not to catch his gaze.

“Am I no longer welcome in your home?” I kept my voice even and cool, careful not to imply any blame or frustration. I was still only a guest in Tenri’s home. I might be spiritually bound to him, but it was still his right to ask me to leave.

Tenri sighed. “I’m only concerned. If you die, what will happen to me?”

“Nothing, so far as I know.” I shrugged. “The binding will break, and that will be that. I’m bound to you, not the other way around.”

“Are you sure of that?”

I didn’t answer. It hadn’t been a carefully built ritual. Many mistakes had been made, and so I couldn’t be certain of anything.

“Your silence speaks for you,” he answered. “Just, be careful. Please? You’re not immortal.”

I nodded, conceding that part of the argument. I didn’t regret my actions, and even if the shade had actually tried to hurt me, I’d have done the same for Chiho.

Tenri turned back to his game. “Wait, this board has changed! You cheating old geezer!” he shouted at his father, who snickered to himself.

“All is fair in war, son.”

* * *

I hiked up the ridge to the lighthouse in the late evening sun. Shades hate light, making night the best time to lure them out, but the best time to start a hunt for spirits was in the evening. The last rays of sun would ward off the spirit while I searched the stone spire for any indication of what I might be up against.

Several talismans were stuck to the door, no doubt placed there by Tenri during his first investigation. Talismans were simple qi infusions and were often one of the first things a cultivator learned to create. By drawing characters on sheet of paper and infusing it with the qi of one’s core, a young cultivator could practice controlling their qi output. Some cultivators then went on to create more advanced versions, ultimately becoming soul smiths or array weavers.

Personally, though? I was terrible with arrays, infusions, and the creation of talismans. It had always been a weakness of mine, one for which my masters often punished.

Leaving the talismans on the door, I slowly pushed it open. It creaked on its hinges and a spray of dust cascaded down from the frame above. I frowned, thinking it odd that the door be so dusty, even after months of abandonment. Then I stepped inside.

The entire place was in ruins. In fact, if I hadn’t known better, I’d have assumed the lighthouse had been abandoned for decades instead of mere months. Dust covered every surface, and the windows were caked in dirt and sea salt. Broken furniture lay scattered across the ground, and there was something black growing up one of the walls. I quickly covered my nose and mouth with my sleeve. A malevolent aura lingered here, tainting the air with hatred and death.

I closed the door behind me, blocking the spirit from escaping, and began to search the building. The windows let in very little light, but what light did filter through would hopefully keep the spirit at bay until the sun set below the horizon. Floor by floor, I crept up the decaying stairs.

It was clear that a family used to live here. Several floors held a living space, a kitchen, a few bedrooms, and a nursery. Another was devoted to a small shrine to some kind of deity or spirit, but it was desecrated. Even the idol had been defaced beyond any recognition…not that I was familiar enough with the local spiritual powers to know who it was anyway.

The floor just below the highest point in the lighthouse was clearly storage for something. Chips of silver stones littered the floor near a large empty crate. I recognized them as moon tears. They must have used the natural light from the stones to light the beacon at the top.

I pushed open the trap door leading to the light room. The walls were open, leaving room for the breeze to pass through and limiting the obstructions to the light itself. Broken railings once prevented anyone from falling off, but now they were little more than stumps of rotting wood attached to the floor. Far below, the ocean lapped at the cliffside.

Though I knew very little about mechanics or engineering, I studied the light mechanisms themselves. The goal of this mission was ultimately to relight the lighthouse so that passing ships would be warned of the reef surrounding Saikan. It also acted as a landmark for any fishing boats at night or in a storm.

Ten blackened stones sat in a basin surrounded by mirrors and lenses. If they used large chunks of the same rock moon tears were made of, then the mirrors and lenses would direct and amplify the light out to sea. Any moon artist, lightning artist, or fire artist would be able to recreate a similar effect, but the contraption here would allow even mortals to shine the light. Frankly, I thought it was an ingenious device. However, many of the mirrors were shattered, and the moon tears were completely dark. Without repairs, the lighthouse would not shine.

The sun began to dip below the horizon, and I felt the gentle light of the moon shine on my back. I turned. It was really a spectacular view, so far above the ground. From here, I could see the entire horizon. The reef sparkling with its little lights beneath the waves, the sea spread before me, reflecting the moon’s light back up from the earth. In a lot of ways, it reminded me of the towers of my palace.

“Leave…”

Right on time. Ghost wisps began to drift. However, where the Flower Maiden’s lights were as big as flower petals, these were barely specs drifting on the sea breeze.

I turned to find a man behind me, and a shiver went down my spine. His hair was ratty and tangled, and his skin was wrinkled as if his whole body had been left too long in a bath. Pieces of his flesh had been eaten away by something, leaving exposed bones at his shoulders, arms, and wrists. Water dripped from soaked, tattered clothes, and his eyes burned red with malice and hatred.

This man did not die under peaceful circumstances.

If I’d had eyes to see qi, I wagered I’d see a cloud of death energy surrounding him. That was no doubt what caused the decay and destruction of the floors below. Breathing that in wasn’t healthy, but leaving this shade in the tower would be far worse. I’d recover, the town would not.

“Leave this place…” he growled. His words had a gurgling tone to them, like he was speaking while half submerged.

“I can’t do that,” I answered. “I’m here to lay you to rest. I’d prefer to do so without violence, but I am prepared to defend myself.”

It was as if he didn’t even hear me. Anger held too great a sway over his spirit. If that anger was what kept him anchored to this realm, then only one thing would resolve this situation.

“Leave this place…” he raised a boney hand and pointed at me. I calmed my heart and mind, then readied myself to fight. Seeing my prepared state, he opened his mouth, and an unholy screech echoed loud over the ridge. “Then DIE!”