Sezha paced back and forth in his suite, rubbing his freshly shaven chin. He would pause to toss a conflicted look over at the letter on his desk. Then he would sigh and start pacing all over again.
“Will you go?” Kan asked, wiping her mouth with her sleeve. She had just finished a plate of fowl and boiled eggs in record time. Sezha’s plate was only half-finished, and occasionally he would catch Kan sneaking glances at it.
“I’m not on the best of terms with my family,” Sezha muttered. “This isn’t something I can lightly consider.”
Kan nodded, then returned to her little world up in the clouds. She stared up at the ceiling, humming and bobbing her head to a melody that was familiar to Sezha. But where had he heard it from before? He shook his head. It was a non-issue. Sezha could always grill her later on where she had heard it.
What should I do? He wanted to find out just what in the fiery layers of hell was going on in Cheng-Kai, but was it worth facing his family again?
“How valuable is information?” Nara asked, leaning against the door. Although she seemed so real, so vivid, his master was only a projection. Her physical body was locked away in the sword. He wasn’t sure exactly how that worked, but there were likely many other things beyond his understanding.
“It’s worth its weight in gold,” Sezha answered under his breath, conscious of Kan’s unwavering gaze on him. She must’ve thought him a madman with all his muttering to Nara.
Nara seemed satisfied with his answer. “Indeed. Information is a form of power. If there is even the slightest chance to acquire information, why would you scorn it? Heavens above, boy, you’re a divine artist now. Face adversity with courage and an open mind.”
Sezha closed his eyes and sighed.
. . .
A servant dressed in the black and gold livery of the Kyu welcomed Sezha at the gate of the Kyu Estate. “Young lord,” he said, bowing so deep his head nearly touched his knees. “Right this way. The young mistress is expecting you.”
The outer hall was the same as he had last seen it. Decorated lavishly with the intent to utterly shock and impress visitors. Did the estate even qualify as a home? He wondered what Moji thought about it. But by now, she must’ve grown to be as cold as their father.
Their destination turned out to be the practice grounds behind the Kyu Estate. It was similar to the regular sparring grounds of the city guardsmen; a raised wooden walkway surrounding a ring filled with sand. A wicked variety of weapons were laid out on a table near an opening in the walkway.
“Do be careful, young master,” the servant said, gesturing for Sezha to continue alone. “The young mistress has been in a particularly dark mood today.”
“Noted,” Sezha said tersely.
At the center of the ring, a beautiful young woman was working through sword forms alone. She was dressed in all white, a silver belt separating a form-fitting tunic from loose trousers. Her inky-dark hair bound in a high ponytail and her sharp, upturned eyes were proof of her bloodline.
“The rumors were true then,” Moji said, sheathing her blade, but not before performing a flashy twirl with it. “You’ve changed, brother. Impressive, really. I suppose the blood of the Kyu really does run through you. But still, who would’ve figured you for a late bloomer?”
Sezha groaned inwardly. If there was one thing that hadn’t changed all these years, it was that his sister didn’t know when to shut her mouth. “Is there a reason you wanted to see me?” he asked, delving straight to the point. “Imagine my surprise when my beloved sister sent me a letter from the blue.”
“My brother leaves the city overnight, then when he returns in the morning, he’s got the makings of a divine artist.” Moji took a step closer to Sezha, her eyes shining with an indescribable emotion. Her hand wandered over to the hilt of her sword. Unlike Sezha’s, the blade was single-edged and had a slight curve to the spine. “You’ve got every elite in the city curious about your. . . transformation.”
Sezha cursed how fast information flew around Cheng-Kai. It hadn’t even been a full day since he returned.
“Can’t we ever talk normally,” he said, wearily massaging his temples with one hand and gripping the hilt of his sword with the other. “There’s enough bad blood in the family without all this posturing.”
Moji’s sword made a rasping sound as she drew it from its sheath. Sezha pulled free his own sword.
They circled each other warily.
“No practice swords?” Sezha asked, assuming a solid stance designed to parry quick blows. Judging from the composition of his sister’s blade, it seemed the wisest response. “I wouldn’t want one of us to get hurt.”
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“We’re both grown adults here.” She lunged forward, her blade a silver blur in the air. Sezha met her steel with his own. Upon each impact, shockwaves after shockwaves ran down the length of his arm, stopping at his elbows. Compared to the Hunter, her attacks were unpredictable. The blade came at him from odd angles, forcing him to stay on his toes. He found himself being pushed back to the edge of the ring.
Use the senses you’ve built up in the pocket realm.
Just like when Sezha could see the way out in the pocket realm, he could see it as plain as day now. Her qi moved in swift, thin streams, flowing with each slash. When her blade collided with his, it would intensify, ensuring her arms held out. Aside from that, there was nothing special about her technique.
Before her sword could strike against his, he pulled his away. The most minuscule pause in her qi circulation allowed him to close the distance. She swung wildly, a break from the tight, composed strikes of before. He spun around her, just narrowly avoiding her blade.
When Moji spun to face him, the point of his sword came to a stop just short of piercing her throat.
“Forgive me if I was a little abrupt.” Despite the sword to her throat, Moji grinned deviously. “But I had to see for myself just how much you changed. I’m pleased to say you passed.”
Sezha frowned, sheathing his sword. His sister did the same. “Pass? I didn’t realize I was being tested.”
“I’ve wasted enough of our time,” Moji said, gesturing for the servant standing behind Sezha to come forward. He offered her a waterskin. “As you can tell, the city’s been in a rather excited state of late. I’m sure you saw the ostentatious display by the Ironblood brutes. Not a single soul in the city didn’t.”
“And how does this affect me?”
Moji took a deep swig of the waterskin, then continued on, ignoring his question. “Over the next few days, more dignitaries and factions will arrive. The most notable of them are the Bone Breakers and House Sol of the Highlands. I’m sure these names are at the very least familiar to you.”
“The Bone Breakers aren’t even based on our continent. What business could they have here?” Sezha found it hard to believe a reclusive sect of divine artists would cross the treacherous sea for a festival hosted by the Kyu. As powerful as they were in the Lowlands, they were considered lowly upstarts outside their little corner of the world.
“For some strange, inexplicable reason, they’ve been trying to expand to all four corners of the world. An alliance with our family would be favorable to consolidate their position here. Father’s even been trying to sell them some of our lands for cheap, no doubt trying to get into their good graces.” She offered Sezha the waterskin. “He wants me to host a gathering of young talents in a few days. I want you to attend.”
Sezha brought his hand up to his chin. “Would Father approve?” he asked. “If you hadn’t noticed, we’re not on the best of terms.”
“His opinion can take a leap off a steep cliff.” Moji stared intently into his eyes. “I’m tired of living for others, brother. From now on, we need to look out for each other. Whether you like it or not, we’re blood.” Her voice softened. “The gathering will be three days from now. Enjoy yourself with the festivities, but don’t overindulge. And if you won’t do it for the Kyu, do it for me, your younger sister.”
. . .
Kaizen glanced down at his two children from the large circular window of his study. To think he could still be surprised by the one he deemed a failure. He turned away from the window and walked back to his desk.
It appeared Kaizen didn’t know his son as well as he thought. No one’s fault but his own, he was willing to admit. But just how long had the boy hidden his true prowess? And for what reason would he do such a thing? Did he not want praise from his family? To be recognized for his true talent? He had been too lax in his management of him. As he settled into his chair, he made a mental note to plant more spies around Sezha. And perhaps run a background check on the young girl he had ridden into Cheng-Kai with.
“What’s our next move, Kaizen?” A tall man with long, silver hair stepped out from the shadows of his study. Unlike the natives of the Lowlands, his complexion was a healthy bronze. A barbed whip hung off the leather belt at his waist. “I’m sure you have a thousand plans brewing in that genius head of yours.”
Kaizen picked up an earmarked report from his desk. The Emperor’s court movements. He smirked, then tossed it back down. The representatives of the Empire were slated to arrive in the morning. While he hadn’t been able to invite the current ruling clan, House Salei, he was able to snag House Sol. Their heritage was equally glorious, if not a little more so.
“We proceed as planned, Miasa,” Kaizen finally said, leaning back in his chair. “Increase the dosage on my wife, but not to the point she’s delirious. We can’t have her causing a scene. Not when things are so close.”
“Your compassion for family astounds me to this day,” Miasa said, running his slender fingers through his hair.
And you should know the only reason I tolerate your disrespect is because you still have some worth left to me. Kaizen didn’t voice his thoughts. It would be a foolish move to make enemies out of a capable ally. Not to mention a talented pharmacist.
“But you know that’s not what I’m asking about. Have the. . .” Miasa hesitated. “Have you heard anything new from them?”
Kaizen smiled. The sacrifices he made would be worth it. They had promised it so.
. . .
“What do you think?” Sezha whispered to Nara as they walked down a broad street back to their inn. He could barely hear himself think, but his master seemed to have no problem with picking out sounds.
Despite the setting sun, the number of pedestrians on the streets hadn’t decreased in the slightest. The fearful glances down at the sword on his belt made it clear what the citizens of Cheng-Kai thought of him. Just his luck, to be mistaken for a mercenary.
“I’ve met a variety of colorful people in my life,” Nara said, weaving deftly between pedestrians. She seemed to have made a game out of it. “Your sister, Moji, was it? She’s a crafty one. Especially for a girl so young. Does scheming run in your blood? The resemblace between you two is uncanny.”
“So I take it you disapprove of me attending the gathering?”
Nara shrugged. “It’s a chance to see just where you stand among your peers. I wouldn’t want to rob you of the opportunity. Naturally, we’ll have to pick up from where we left off. It’s time we start going over the more advanced concepts.”
Sezha grinned, and his worries seemed to melt away.