The world sometimes feels like a grand, cosmic game. Pieces moved by the Ascendents and those rare few who gather other forms of power to shake the world. But nothing could be further from the truth. They’re just a bunch of idiots pushing people and papers around in the dark, trying to impose order where none can exist. – The Sword Saint in the infamous “Words of the Wind” pamphlet many suspect he spread himself.
* * *
Mister Tsuyuki lifted Xinya as if she were no heavier than a feather in his arms. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she was cold. In fact, she was freezing. If she got any colder, she might just rattle right out of her skin.
Tsuyuki pulled his sleeve over Xinya’s head, which she was immensely grateful for. Even though he was just as soaked through as she was, the sleeve was a nice umbrella to keep off the colder drops coming down from the heavens. She curled her head against his warm body, just as she’d done to her father when he’d still been alive, as they walked back down the streets of Saikan.
Maybe I should have listened to Auntie Hanako, she thought. The older woman had suggested that the little girl should apologize to her master but had been entirely unprepared for said little girl to run straight out into the rain to see it done.
Xinya didn’t know what was going on, and that bothered her. She knew that Mister Tsuyuki was a strange fellow, but all cultivators had their quirks according to her father. What bothered her more was the strange things he chose to lie about. Why lie about being all the way to the Indomitable Mountain without doing the barest research required to at least know it was on another continent. Tsuyuki was a smart man. In fact, he might have been the smartest man Xinya had ever met. No way would he fabricate a lie so feeble that even a child could see through it.
She wanted to know why he knew so little of geography when such legendary locations were common knowledge, even for such a backwater town as Saikan. She wanted to know why he didn’t know about the Sun Queen’s Prophecy, or why he always looked sad when she brought up her favorite stories. None of it made any sense, and she wanted to know why.
So, she’d run out into the rain. She had not expected it to be quite so cold. By the time she found her master sulking at the end of the docks, staring longingly out over the wind-whipped waves, she was soaked straight to the bone and could already feel her nose getting stuffed up with the cold she’d get for being out so long.
Mister Tsuyuki was kind, though. He let her burrow against his warm body while he walked through the wet streets until he stopped at the familiar red door of her home. From the outside, it still looked like a normal house, complete with a doused lantern with a swimming fish painted on the side and a name plate that read “Lang.”
“Are you going to be okay going in?” he asked gently, setting her down on her own two feet.
Part of her wasn’t sure. She hadn’t been back since her father had died. That was so long ago, at this point, it felt like an entire age had passed in the few months since she’d been left alone. Warm summer rains had given way to cold autumn storms, and soon snow would cover the streets of the little fishing village. Time marched onward, and yet, this home was trapped in a frozen moment of time.
However, the part of her that didn’t want to see that moment, the last one in the happy life she’d shared with her beloved father, was not the part that was standing out in the cold rain. She put on a brave face. Auntie Hanako’s home and the clinic were both too far away. She’d definitely catch cold before reaching either of those.
I’m gonna have to become a cultivator soon. Being a weak mortal is the worst.
She nodded and Mister Tsuyuki pushed open the door. They stepped inside, took off their shoes, and stepped into the combined kitchen and living room. Xinya knew the home was small. Her father had not been a wildly successful fisherman, and he put a lot of money aside to help with Xinya’s future. He made sure she was well-fed and had a warm home, and that was all she had ever needed. The small, two-room house was more than enough, with the back room as a shared bedroom for the two of them, and the front room for guests.
Xinya took one look at the scene in the front room and turned to bury her face in Mister Tsuyuki’s robes. Images of that night raced through her mind. Memories of her own screams and the sound of crunching bones made her tremble.
That night, the wicked cultivators had broken into her house with their horrible black hound. They demanded that she come with them, and, when her father refused, they beat him up and broke his arm.
Signs of the struggle were all around, from the broken stool where her father had fallen to the bowls of rice that were now scattered across the ground where they’d fallen. The Heaven’s Lily that had sat in the window for only a couple days was wilted on the ground, its pot shattered. Mister Tsuyuki had given them that flower. She loved it…
Mister Tsuyuki held her hand as they picked through the small room to the oven. It didn’t take much for the cultivator to light it, and Xinya was glad for it. She curled up next to the fire and stared into the light while he moved around behind her.
“Put these on,” he instructed. She turned to find him holding a set of dry clothes. He must have found them in the back room where she’d left them. She quickly changed and handed her wet things to the cultivator who set about arranging them to dry by the fire along with his outer robes and armor.
Xinya watched him as he worked. His inner robes were surely still wet, but knowing his powers, he could probably dry them the same way he kept dirt off himself. Still, she couldn’t help but notice that he looked more natural in the white underclothes. When they’d met, he’d worn light blue and white. Somehow, she felt like he was more suited to the lighter colors.
Chiho flitted around his head, fixing his hair while he resolved to fix hers. He pulled out the pin keeping her soaked and tangled hair in place and began combing through it. Yet, as he did, she couldn’t help but feel the weight of his silence ever so keenly.
What was so bad about the secrets he kept that he couldn’t tell her? She already knew so many of his biggest secrets, or at least, she thought she did. After all, being a moon artist in the Moon-Soaked Shore was one hell of a secret, and she knew that one. What else could he be hiding? And why was he so opposed to sharing it?
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Without warning, he began to hum. Xinya wasn’t even sure if he noticed it through all his own thoughts, but she did. It was the Flower Maiden’s favorite song. Did they know each other? Did that have something to do with his secrets?
“I can feel you thinking,” the little girl whispered. “Is the truth so bad that you have to think so hard about saying it?”
Mister Tsuyuki sighed. With deft fingers, he wrapped her hair into a simple bun and pinned it with the pearl hair pin. She turned around and faced him, trying to read the cultivator.
He looked…so unsure. Never in the time she’d known him could she remember him looking so lost. Even faced with a hundred monstrous spiders or a murderous cultivator he always looked completely in control. Now, she imagined his world was crumbling down around his head, and he knew there was little he could do to stop it.
“Xinya, I…you…” He bit his lip, frustration creeping onto his face.
Xinya reached out with a hand and rested it on his uninjured shoulder. “It’s okay. I play with Shades and Spirit Beasts in my free time. I can take whatever you throw at me.”
“You play with a Shade called the Flower Maiden,” he answered dryly.
“Who is known to slaughter innocent merchants and cultivators on the roads, if rumors are to be believed,” she countered. Then she shrugged. “But, honestly, Chouko is really nice and has never done anything bad to me.”
It was as if lightning had struck the moon artist. He sat up completely straight and his eyes widened in shock. Xinya frowned and cocked her head in confusion while he tried to catch up with something she’d said…not that anything she’d said was that revolutionary.
“You don’t…don’t happen to know her family name, by chance?” he asked. Xinya frowned, bit her knuckle, then shook her head.
“I think she told me once, but I don’t remember. Why?”
“Because,” he paused to muster his courage, “because my sister’s name is Chouko.”
What?
“There’s no way she’s your sister. You’re way too young. She lived ages and ages ago.”
Then again…
Xinya chewed some more on her knuckle while Mister Tsuyuki sat quietly. The cultivator before her did share some physical traits with the Flower Maiden, if she thought really hard about it, and the Flower Maiden did mention once that she had an older brother and sister. Xinya had always assumed that they were long gone, but now, she was literally talking to the Chain-Bound Fury…sort of. If Mister Tsuyuki was related to that shade, then maybe he really was old enough to be her brother.
“Xinya, you…you know the Legend of the Darkened Moon, yes?” he began. Dread was in his silver eyes. Xinya’s heart leapt with excitement, but she kept it under control, remembering why Auntie Hanako had scolded her in the first place.
“It’s my favorite story, yes,” she answered calmly.
He visibly winced at the word “favorite” before continuing. “Well, the version you know isn’t very accurate.” Excitement coursed through Xinya like a bolt of lightning. “The Lunar Prince did go crazy, and he did kill a lot of people, but the other Ascendents couldn’t beat him. They imprisoned him instead. His prison was under the Moon-Soaked Shore all this time.”
“Under the Shore?” But how could someone as powerful as the Sword Saint fail to kill the villain? And how did Mister Tsuyuki know all this?
“It’s where I spent a thousand thousand moons,” Tsuyuki continued. “So long, I kind of lost track of the time that passed.”
But that means… Her eyes went wide. No wonder he didn’t know about the Akumai Straight! It formed after that point!
“Oh, wow… YOUREALLYAREAGOD!!!” she shouted, leaping to her feet. Mister Yoru, no Prince Yoru, blinked several times, trying to catch up with her line of thought.
“What?”
“The day we first met, I asked you if you were a god because your clothes never got dirty! You said no, but that was a lie!” She looked away. “That’s why you got so upset about the bloodlines! You actually do know what the Darkened Moon’s powers were! Cuz they’re yours!”
This might have been the most exciting day of Xinya’s life. The only thing that would have topped this was if the Sword Saint himself walked through the door. Sure, Prince Yoru was a villain, but he’d still stepped straight out of the pages of her favorite story! How many people could claim that they were being taught cultivation by an ACTUAL LIVING LEGEND!!!! So cool!!!
“What’s your secret? Can you show me your bloodline techniques? How do you alter people’s luck? Are you really the Avatar of the Moon? What does it even mean to be Avatar? Can you control the moon? Make it change phases and stuff? Did you have a palace? Can I see it!?”
There were just so many questions! She had to get them all out before she forgot them! There wasn’t even time to breathe! The words tumbled from her mouth like an overfull water pitcher.
In the end, Prince Yoru burst out laughing. Tears leaked from his eyes, and it looked as if an enormous weight had lifted from his shoulders.
“You’re not afraid of me?” he asked when he finally could breathe again.
“Why would I be afraid of you?”
“I mean, I’m the monster under the bed.”
She shook her head. “Nah, that’s the Tide Serpent.”
An idea came to her, and she jumped up. She padded quietly to the back room and looked around. In the chest filled with her stuff, she pulled out the little bag of stones and coral bits for Moon Tear’s Match. It was a game of her own creation, one that only the Flower Maiden and Prince Yoru ever wanted to play with her. They’d played it on the day they met.
Before she left, though, the chest with her father’s things loomed in the corner of her eye. She crossed to it, remembering his instructions clearly. If he were ever gone, then she was to take some things from his chest.
Carefully, she opened it and pushed aside the clothes that smelled like fish and pulled out the box at the bottom. Inside was a bag with a handful of gold coins, her father’s life savings, and a black onyx pendant on a gold chain. That pendent was the only thing she had left from her mother, since her swords and jewelry all went down to the bottom of the sea with her. Xinya took the pendant and gingerly put it around her neck before tucking it beneath her shirt.
Then, she scooped up the bag once more and raced back to the warm fire where Prince Yoru was waiting.
“Well, your highness, play a game with me?”
He laughed again. “You don’t need to call me that.”
“But why not? You’re a prince, right?”
“My kingdom is nothing but ash, now.”
“But you were a prince before,” Xinya insisted. Then another idea came to her. “Wait, as your disciple, does that make me a princess?!”
He smiled sheepishly. “Not quite. You’d need to be my family for that.”
“Okay! You’re now my Uncle Yoru, then!” she declared. For a moment, it looked as if he was going to object, but then he just shook his head and smiled.
“Alright, Princess Xinya.”
A knock at the door heralded Auntie Hanako and Master…no, Uncle Lin. After all, Xinya figured that if the rumors were true, then her Aunt Hanako and her Uncle Yoru were close with the wood artist. That made her family with him, too.
The ruling couple of Saikan entered and sat on the floor with them, bringing with them an assortment of dumplings, some of which had chicken in them. Xinya liked them a lot.
As they all sat on the floor, she continued to ask Yoru dozens of questions, and he answered those he could. The wind howled outside and the rain poured, but no thunder rumbled to interrupt the merriment in the tiny house.
Before she went to bed, Xinya thought about her father. If he was looking over her from beyond, she hoped he was content. She was with good people, and with Yoru’s teachings, she was certain she would become the best cultivator of their age. She’d make him proud, for sure.