On rare occasion, artists may develop a technique, or set of techniques, we call Transformation Arts. That is, the art of changing their form, physical, spiritual, and mental to better suit their cultivation. The easiest example is, of course, spirit beasts who naturally gain the ability to take humanoid form. But there are others. From Yokai, to unique or artificial creatures, and even to cultivators of esoteric arts. And not all of them are voluntarily controlled. – Educator Yuen at the Jin Sen School for Young Cultivators

* * *

Tenri Lin poked at the meal before him. His wife’s cooking was fantastic, and he was extremely grateful for everything she did for him. Every terrible day putting up with his good-for-nothing cousin was all worth it when he came home to his loving wife and her excellent cooking.

Tonight, it was sea jelly dumplings in honor of the migration season. Summer was fast approaching, and the first sea jellies had been spotted in the reef as they came to their seasonal feeding grounds. It was a delicate dish, as the jellies were quite poisonous naturally. But if one properly prepared them, the tendrils could be stewed down and put in all sorts of dishes. Hanako had prepared the dumplings with his favorite sweet sauce. Everything about this meal was lovely, and yet…

Tenri couldn’t pin down why he was filled with such distress. There was a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, right where his core was, that gave him an unease that he couldn’t quite explain. That unease presented itself as a low-level nausea that he couldn’t ignore.

Was it the coming tax season? The officials from the Lunar Hunt were due any day now. It came and went every year, and most years there wasn’t any issue. Most years they only took the majority of the town’s wealth, shook down several merchants, conducted their inspections, and left. It was an incident, but one that the town was well used to dealing with.

Even thinking about it made the nausea worse. He wished dearly that there was something, anything that he could do to alleviate the situation. He was the Saikan Administrator for heaven’s sake! He was a Bronze Stage cultivator! He had a respectable position, a respectable path, and respectable techniques. But he was powerless against the tax collectors.

Tax collectors…if you could even call them that. What kind of state officials beat people in the streets? No, these were more like bandits, and everyone in the Moon-Soaked Shore knew it. They had the charter with the Governor, but that was the only thing that legitimized them. They cared nothing for the nation, nor the people they were sent to exploit, and the worst of the lot was their leader, Shen Tori.

He was a piece of work. Tenri had only seen the man once, and even that was too much for one lifetime. He was wicked to the core, possessed of an evil spirit who wanted nothing more than to hurt those beneath him. Shen Tori was the worst kind of cultivator, one who relished only in the suffering of others.

The last time Tenri had seen him, it had been in passing on a trip to the capital He’d been on his way to a meeting when he’d caught a glimpse of a man shrouded in void qi so thick he looked like a demon straight from hell. Tenri had felt his aura from the other side of a large courtyard, and it had scared him straight to his marrow.

He counted his good fortunes every day that Shen Tori did not visit Saikan personally. Instead, he sent his subordinates, which usually contained a handful of Bronze artists, and an Iron as their leader. It was that Iron that kept Tenri from doing what he sorely wished he could: put a fist through the face of every tax collector in the Lunar Hunt. He couldn’t fight an Iron.

The textbooks he’d inherited from his grandfather had said that the gulf between advancements was so vast that one advancement could easily be three or four times more powerful than the rank below it. As a Bronze, he couldn’t hope to defeat an Iron. He may as well be a member of the common folk for all the strength he could muster against them.

And those were the subordinates. Rumors put Shen Tori himself at least at Silver, maybe even Gold. Those heights were so dizzyingly high that Tenri would get a nosebleed just thinking about them.

He had plenty of reason to be upset over the coming tax season, and yet…that didn’t seem to fully encompass the depths of his discomfort. Something was wrong, and he couldn’t figure out what it was.

“Lin, darling, you really should eat something,” Hanako put a hand on his shoulder. “Even one or two of the dumplings would give you the strength to recover from your day.”

“Thank you, Hana, but I’m just not-”

A knock at the door sent a chill down Tenri’s spine. Who could possibly be knocking at their door so late in the evening? Something was wrong. He knew it.

“Lin, are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

The knock came again, and Tenri shook himself out of it. He reassured Hanako and stood from the table. Hanako followed him, determined to be available if he needed assistance with their late callers.

Tenri opened the door to find Lang Tailyn and his daughter on his doorstep. The fisherman bowed deeply, and his daughter followed his example.

“Master Tenri, please forgive this intrusion. You know I would not wish to bother your esteemed self this late in the evening if it were not of the utmost urgency,” said the fisherman.

“What is it, Lang?” Tenri asked.

“Master Tenri has been hosting Master Tsuyuki in his home, yes?” Lang began, never raising his head.

“Yes, but he’s not here at the moment.” Another pang of unease washed through Tenri. Wasn’t Tsuyuki supposed to be at Lang’s home this evening?

Lang finally raised his head. Even in the depths of the storm, surrounded by wicked monsters, Lang had kept a determined resolution to his expression that inspired a quiet confidence. Now, though, his concern was very clear in his frown and the furrow between his eyes. Behind him, his daughter stared up at Tenri with green eyes filled with alarm.

“Master Tsuyuki did a good deed for our family by relighting the lighthouse, and so, I wished to properly thank him with a meal this evening,” Lang explained. “The meal was…not to his tastes, but he weathered it well.” The girl looked away in shame. “However, half-way through, he suddenly leapt up and excused himself.”

That…didn’t sound like Tsuyuki at all. He might be one of the less mannered people Tenri had met in his life, but he wasn’t outright rude.

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Lang continued. “At first, I worried that we had done something to offend the Master, but he began to stumble towards the door as if he were suddenly ill. I asked if he was alright, and he just thanked us for our hospitality before fleeing as if chased by a foul spirit.”

That…was very bad. Tenri wasn’t sure if he should consider Tsuyuki to be a blessing upon Saikan or a curse that would ultimately bring them devastation. He was the Darkened Moon, one of the Five Demons of Devastation, and responsible for the total annihilation of several nations during his reign. He’d done good things for the town, but Tenri was worried. An ominous aura followed Tsuyuki, one which only Tenri seemed to notice. He was a menace wrapped up in a smile. A tiger can’t change its stripes, and he was sure that Tsuyuki would bring a whole host of trouble along with his good intentions. It was a presence worthy of his title as the Demon of Misfortune… For someone with that kind of background to be suddenly ill was…unlikely. Something else was going on here.

“Did you see where he went?” Tenri asked. Lang nodded and pointed to the north.

“He fled towards the forest. As soon as we knew something was wrong, we came to you, as the only one who has experience with such matters as demons and cultivators.” Lang bowed once more to show his respect. His daughter followed his example a moment later. Tenri noticed a small pearl hairpin tucked into her ponytail. It shimmered with moon qi, no doubt infused by Tsuyuki himself.

“You were right to tell me,” Tenri praised. “Tsuyuki is…on a very volatile Path. I will search for him at once. Please return to your home. I’ll send word when I’ve found him.”

Tenri ducked back inside to grab his hat and spare sword. Lang stepped aside and bowed to the cultivator as he passed, but his daughter lunged forward, grabbing onto Tenri’s sleeve.

“Please save him, Master Tenri!” she begged. “He’s very kind! He doesn’t deserve to be possessed by a demon!”

Tenri paused and knelt next to the young girl. He rested a comforting hand on her shoulder and smiled warmly.

“You have my word; I will do my best to bring him back to us.” Then he stood and sprinted away with the speed of a full-fledged cultivator.

* * *

Tenri’s mind filled with worry as he scoured the woods for any trace of the wayward cultivator. He couldn’t have gone far… If Lang’s description was correct, then he was hardly in any condition to run for any length of time, nor hide his tracks for any great distance. And yet, Tenri couldn’t find any sign of his passing.

Then again, it was so dark that Tenri wasn’t entirely sure he’d see any traces even if they were in front of his nose. His eyes had been terrible for as long as he could remember, and even infusing his body with the qi of a Bronze cultivator had only done so much. In the dark, he was practically blind again, glasses or not. Tonight was very dark.

The new moon was tomorrow. Tenri didn’t think for a single second that it was coincidence that Tsuyuki was being afflicted by this strange condition now. His life was irrevocably tied to the phases of the moon, and all the legends pointed to the dark phases of the moon as those where Tsuyuki was at his most vulnerable…or most dangerous, depending on how one chose to view it.

Would Tsuyuki be turned back into the Darkened Moon tonight? Was he becoming a monster? Or fighting to prevent that from happening? Tenri couldn’t be sure.

A strangled cry resounded through the forest. Tenri immediately picked up his pace, altering his course to the right. Tsuyuki was in danger. Tenri needed to help him.

Another cry rang clearly, and Tenri was now sure that it was Tsuyuki’s voice. Images of the moon artist being strangled by dark, shadowy forces filled Tenri’s mind, and he drew his sword, ready for whatever might await him.

He burst into a clearing, only to find…no monsters. In fact, there was only a single dark figure on the ground. It had to be Tsuyuki, but, in the dark, Tenri couldn’t tell for sure.

“Tsuyuki?” he called. “Where’s the monster?”

“Go…” moaned the figure on the ground. It was definitely Tsuyuki’s voice.

“Go? Why?” Tenri wondered, stepping closer. His steps were halted when a bright blue wisp darted before his eyes. Backing up a few steps, he realized that dozens of tiny ghost lights were in the clearing, drifting lazily around, and providing a little bit of light for them to see.

“Just…go away…”

“Tsuyuki, there’s a shade around,” he warned. “We need to leave! Are you injured?”

“I’m fine…just…please…leave me here…” Tenri had never heard Tsuyuki sound so…pitiful. He was such a proud cultivator, and yet, he seemed to be on the brink of tears. It must have been a terrible injury, indeed.

Tenri kept his sword in one hand, in case the shade showed itself as he rushed to the dark figure. As he approached, he saw the malevolent shadows rising from the cultivator. His breath caught in his throat as the wisps illuminated the image for him.

Tsuyuki was curled on the ground, his long hair draped over his side like a blanket. He was even paler than normal, and the dark shadows were rising directly from him.

“Tsuyuki, what’s going on?”

The figure on the ground curled tighter, raising a blackened hand to now pointed ears in an attempt to block out the words. Tenri’s breath caught in his throat. That hand was tipped with black claws instead of fingernails, and a shining white shackle wrapped around his forearm.

“What’s…” but he couldn’t finish the question. Instead, he stared at the cultivator in horror.

After several long moments of silence, the figure seemed to realize that Tenri wasn’t going away. It pushed itself first to its knees, then its feet. All the while, clinking chains heralded his every movement.

When it finally turned around to face Tenri, he fought to maintain something resembling composure.

While it was still very clearly Tsuyuki, the cultivator had truly turned into a monster. His skin was pale as the moon itself, save for a dark streak on his face, as well as his hands and wrists, which were all black as pitch. His eyes were black and his irises shone with an eerie blue light. From his hairline, two small horns grew. His hair had turned a shade darker and seeped with black smoke which then wrapped around him like a coiled snake.

However, the most notable features of his new appearance were the chains wrapped around three of his limbs. Both arms and his right foot were clasped in shining white shackles trailing long lengths of thick chain which wrapped up his arms, legs, and torso before hanging off his body. The bandages that normally wrapped Tsuyuki’s left foot, however, had been forcibly ripped off from the knee down, revealing a black tattoo wrapped around his ankle like a fourth shackle.

“I told you to leave,” Tsuyuki snarled, revealing sharpened teeth.

“You’re being possessed by something. How could I leave you like this?” Tenri stammered. The cultivator flinched at the word “possessed,” before shaking his head. With every motion, the black smoke surrounding him was displaced. It swirled lazily around before descending to his feet.

“I’m possessed by nothing.”

“But, this form…it’s the spitting image of the Chain-Bound Fury, one of the Four Spirits of the Shore! How could it be anything but possession?” Tenri had never heard of the Chain-Bound Fury possessing someone, but some shades did have that ability. The Fury, in particular, hadn’t been seen on the shore in over two decades. Maybe the stories weren’t complete anymore.

Tsuyuki shuddered and squeezed his eyes shut. “C-can’t you see!? I’m a monster. This is the true face of the Darkened Moon! I’m hideous!”

Hideous was not the first word Tenri would have used. Unnatural? Certainly. Unsettling? Absolutely. But, at the same time, there was an ethereal beauty to the being before him, a sublime power to strike fear into the hearts of men.

Suddenly, Tenri remembered all the stories. The Darkened Moon, Avatar of the Lunar Cycle, turned to the face of darkness in a moment of desperation and was twisted into a vile monster. That monster went on to destroy nations before being locked away.

That same monster now stood before him, but all Tenri could see was guilt and fear in those shining blue eyes.

In a split-second decision that not even he fully understood, Tenri sheathed his sword and knelt in the grass. He took off his glasses, wiped the dirt away, and replaced them on his nose. Then, he looked at Tsuyuki, who was staring back at him in shock.

“Why don’t you tell me what really happened back then, hmm? What’s the real story of the Darkened Moon?”