Sundered Soul: A Wuxia/Xianxia Cultivation Novel

by Rick Scott

  “Kenji,” Waru said weakly from below him, lying against the crease of the bow. “Come close to me, lad…”

  Kenji glanced behind himself self-consciously at Waru’s hushed tone, checking to ensure Shinoto and Chet Fai were still at the aft of the sloop, working the stones. He kneeled down to the old man and grasped his hand. “I’m here, Waru.”

  The old man opened his eyes. They were more bloodshot than he’d ever seen them before. “Give us a swig, will you?”

  Kenji nodded and retrieved the old man’s bottle for him, bringing it to his lips.

  “Ah… that’s good…” he said, dribbling rice wine over his beard. “Couldn’t leave… without one last taste, you know?”

  “Nonsense, you’ll be drinking like a fish soon enough. We’re almost there…”

  “Please don’t mention fish.”

  Kenji laughed, despite it all.

  “Now look here, lad,” he said in a low whisper. “I have something to tell you. In case I don’t make it, I want yo—”

  “You’re going to make it, Waru, don’t wor—”

  “Listen to me, Kenji,” he said more forcefully, grabbing hold of his robe and Kenji kept silent. “You are more special than you realize, understand? Once people know about this…” Waru poked at his doma. “…they will try to use you for it. Perhaps even that Xjian woman over there has found you for the same thing. You’re still young, Kenji, but you need to grow up quickly and forge your own path now.”

  My own path? Kenji had never thought of things like that before. He had always simply been chasing after things that others already had: ascension, rebirth…even pursuing Shinoto was an act of chasing in a way. What did it mean to follow his own ambitions? What were they without the context of everything else?

  “Choose your destiny and become who you are meant to be. Not what people want you to be, okay?”

  “Yes, but…how do I do that?”

  “Become strong,” Waru said and poked at his doma again. “Find a way to unlock that thing as soon as possible, understand?”

  Kenji nodded.

  “To grow in strength…” Waru coughed, spitting up blood. “…is the only way…to maintain your self-determination…the weak… will forever be at the mercy of the strong.”

  He coughed once more and then his eyes rolled back into his head, falling unconscious again.

  “Waru?” Kenji shook him.

  “Is he alright?” Shinoto called from behind.

  Kenji looked over his shoulder at her. “Perhaps you should come tend to him.” Kenji then rested Waru back against the bow, digesting his words. My own destiny…

  “I’ll row to get us going faster.”

  * * *

  Chet Fai took over channeling the stones solo, while Kenji manned the oars, allowing Shinoto to attend to Waru. She channeled Qi into his wounds, a rudimentary technique and Kenji couldn’t tell if it was helping much, but he was still alive at least.

  Hang in there, Waru…

  The old man’s words haunted him and filled him with inspiration too. What was his true path now? Where did it lie?

  His shoulder ached as he rowed, burning where the demon’s fang had grazed him. And the more he rowed the more it became inflamed. With Waru in the state he was, Kenji hadn’t given much thought to his own injury, but now after travelling for nearly an hour with the pain not subsiding, he was starting to worry that he was being affected by the demon’s Dark Qi as well.

  Thinking back to when that demon was full grown, he was perhaps lucky to not have received even a scratch, mostly thanks to Olja. He looked down at the mystic warrior still unconscious at the bottom of the boat. She had the strength of a 15th-Dan body, but as skilled as he was, Waru was just an old man with a body far more frail than his.

  If Waru was going to live, they needed to hurry.

  With that thought he redoubled his efforts, rowing till his shoulder burned like fire and his stomach grew sick. After what seemed like eons, Shinoto finally stood up at the bow and yelled.

  “There!” Shinoto shouted and pointed ahead. “I see lights!”

  Shinoto then rejoined her brother at the Qi stones, speeding them towards what Kenji prayed was Amatsu. The sky was a deep indigo of twilight now and contrasted vividly with the glowing lights of the pier up ahead. As they approached, Kenji saw several other boats docked to its side.

  Shinoto immediately jumped out of the sloop even before Kenji had a chance to tie the boat to the side. “I’ll run and get help. You two bring Waru!”

  She disappeared down the pier towards further lights at the center of the village. Kenji lashed off the boat and together with Chet Fai carried Waru across the pier, following in the direction Shinoto had run. The old man felt heavy despite his size and Kenji’s shoulder ached with searing pain. His stomach felt sick and he tasted blood in his mouth.

  Glancing down at his shoulder, he saw the edges of the wound turning black.

  “Looks like that demon got a taste of what it was after,” Chet Fai said, looking at him with disdain as he carried Waru by the ankles.

  Kenji glared back at him. “What?”

  “I saw how it came after you,” Chet Fai said with malevolence in his eyes.

  Kenji’s chest tightened. The last thing he needed was Chet Fai thinking something like that. “It attacked all of us.”

  “No,” Chet Fai said. “It attacked you.”

  Kenji opened his mouth to retort but was cut off by Shinoto.

  “There they are…” she said to someone following behind her. “Here!”

  Kenji looked ahead to a large stone paifang marking the entrance to Amatsu Village, the words bold across its front, next to the protection glyphs. Hope filled him at the sight. They’d made it at last.

  Shinoto ran to them, followed by a group of men carrying two stretchers. A tall woman dressed in blue robes accompanied her, walking with long, swift strides. Her hair was long but rolled into a bun and held fast with a jeweled comb made of ivory. In her hand she held onto a thick set of prayer beads looped around her neck.

  “There should be one more in the boat,” the woman said authoritatively. “A large woman. Four of you will need to carry her.”

  The men with stretchers rushed past them with practiced efficiency. Kenji had never considered it before, but perhaps Amatsu, as a healing village, was used to such things as this—wounded strangers showing up at the fall of night, looking for aid.

  The tall woman glanced down at Waru. “Sanji, the stretcher. Quickly!”

  “Yes, Doctor,” one of the men carrying the last stretcher said and he rested it on the ground for Kenji and Chet Fai to lay Waru upon.

  The woman uncovered Waru’s wounds and examined him with a wave of her palm. Her face was elegant and fair, but creased with concern as she frowned. “Dark Qi…The wounds are already infected… Take this one to the healing chamber right away. Try to prevent any more blood loss.”

  The men acknowledged her before hefting Waru aloft and running back towards the paifang.

  The woman then looked to Kenji and immediately her deep brown eyes focused on his shoulder. “Were you bitten as well?”

  The moment she said it, the wound seemed to throb and get worse. He felt almost dizzy. “Yes, but just slightly.”

  “With a beast such as this, how badly you were bitten does not matter,” she said. “Come with me quickly if you want to live.”

  * * *

  Kenji wasn’t certain if it was from the woman telling him that or a trick of his own mind, but the sickness in his stomach grew worse and the pain in his arm near unbearable by the time they reached the village center.

  The place was alight with both lanterns and the soft white glow of Qi stones. Houses made of white stone with blue-tiled roofs set it apart from their village indeed. The village square was paved with large flagstones and was twice the size of that in Han. A crowd had gathered but they didn’t seem necessarily there for them. It was evening time and the streets were
full of food vendors and the smells of frying woks. Some people did turn their heads as the tall woman walked past them and others especially at the stretcher carrying Olja, but other than that they were going about their business of buying, selling, and eating.

  Perhaps it was just as he thought. The wounded coming here was commonplace.

  They approached a large open hall towards the center of the village.

  “This is the healing house,” the woman said. “We will see to your wounds within.”

  The interior of the building was well-lit with Qi stones and inside were several beds along with two large raised pedestals at the back. Olja was already laid on top of one, her feet hanging off the edge. From what Kenji could see, smooth stones of blue crystal lay beneath her and emitted a soft glow as more women clad in blue robes tended to her, infusing her with Qi.

  The men carrying Waru hurried him to the other pedestal.

  “Sarai, see to this one’s shoulder,” the tall woman said, pointing to Kenji and an elderly woman ushered him to one of the beds. As he lay down, the sickness in his stomach worsened and his head grew light.

  “I don’t feel well,” he said.

  “It is normal,” the woman, Sarai, said with a soothing voice. “This will get worse before it gets better. Channeling your Qi will help. Push the Dark Qi out with the pressure of your doma.”

  “I ca…” Kenji was about to say I can’t, but stopped as he looked around. This was perhaps not the best time to reveal his infirmity. That thought made him recall what Waru had warned him about Olja. About what secrets she could know about him. “Please, I need to speak with the Xjian woman as soon as she wakes. It’s very important.”

  “I doubt you’ll be in any condition for that,” the tall woman said, leaning over him. “Her wound is severe but mostly expunged of dark Qi. Yours is still fresh.”

  From his vantage Kenji saw that the woman was actually not so tall at all. Upon her feet she wore a pair of Tengu sandals that were nearly a foot high. How the woman managed to balance on the single, narrow block of wood was a testament to her skill and perhaps training in the mystic arts.

  She held her hands over him and when she reached the point on his doma, she frowned. Kenji’s stomach tightened. He feared she might already know his doma was sealed and he didn’t want to know where questions about that might lead.

  “I want to check on Waru,” Shinoto said, thankfully distracting her and the tall woman turned away from him to stop her.

  “Best to let the healers do their work, young one,” she said and knelt to Shinoto’s height, smoothing back her hair in a motherly fashion. “Stay here with your older brother, all right?”

  “He’s not her brother,” Chet Fai said. “I am.”

  “Oh, I see. Well stay here anyway, okay?” the woman said, smiling at Shinoto before looking back to Kenji. “I’m sorry. I should have perhaps introduced myself. I am Mei Ling, head doctor of the healing house. We’ll take care of you now. You can see to matters of payment in the morning.”

  Payment? That was the last thing on his mind. But he supposed healing like this came at a price. His eyes grew heavy as the old woman rubbed his shoulder with a humming blue crystal like the ones the pedestals were made of. What were they made of exactly? Ice? No that would be silly.

  Shinoto knelt next to him with a look of concern on her face. “Kenji? Are you all right?”

  He tried to answer her, but his mouth merely opened and closed—his breath too weak to muster words. What’s happening to me?

  The elderly woman, Sarai, must have seen the look of worry on his face and gave him a reassuring smile. “All will be fine now. The healing stones soothe you to rest. Let them do their work.”

  No… he tried to say, turning his head to glimpse at Olja and Waru. I can’t rest now.

  “Are you the chief?” Chet Fai said.

  The woman, Mei Ling, smiled at him. “No, young one, I am not the chief.”

  “I need to speak to him immediately. And the leader of the Mystic School Sect as well.”

  Mei Ling furrowed her brows at him, perplexed. “Those matters are unimportant now. I think we need to see to your grandfather first.”

  “The old man is not my grandfather,” Chet Fai said sharply. “And will you please stop calling me young one.”

  Mei Ling looked back at him aghast, but then after a moment her eyes went wide with comprehension. “Ah… you are from Han Village. Forgive me. Are you an adult?”

  “Yes,” Chet Fai said and then he gestured to Shinoto and Kenji. “But these two are the same age. Still children.”

  Kenji tried to open his mouth to retort, but again felt himself drifting more and more towards sleep. What are you doing, Chet Fai?

  Shinoto rose up and turned about. “I am not a child, Chet Fai!”

  “And yet your words prove otherwise, dear sister.” Chet Fai smiled at her patronizingly, before ignoring her to look back to Mei Ling. “I apologize for my sister’s petulance. I am Chet Fai, sadly now the oldest remaining member of the Han Clan.”

  “Your age means nothing,” Shinoto said and pointed to Kenji. “You’re barely older than us and he’s the son of—”

  “Our clan was attacked by Tsu bandits and nearly wiped out,” Chet Fai spoke over her. “We are all that’s left.”

  “By the heavens…” Mei Ling said, drawing a breath. “…all that’s left?”

  “I trust you can forgive my shortness earlier. As you can see, I have urgent need to speak with your chief.”

  What in the hells was this?

  “What are you doing, Chet Fai?” Shinoto tried to protest but Mei Ling spoke over her.

  “Yes, of course,” Mei Ling said. “We heard word of the demon attack but not this.”

  “The threat is still out there,” Chet Fai said. He then looked at Kenji with a knowing smirk. “Perhaps in here as well.”

  Chet Fai, you bastard…

  “What do you mean?”

  Kenji expected him to say something about the demon coming after him, but he didn’t. “That Xjian woman we brought may be some kind of spy, connected with the Tsu that attacked our village. It would be wise to have the mystic sect constrain her before she fully recovers.”

  What? No…!

  Mei Ling nodded. “Yes, of course.”

  “You don’t know that, Chet Fai,” Shinoto said. “And furthermore, you don’t know any—”

  “Please, be silent, sister!” Chet Fai barked at her and then he smiled apologetically to Mei Ling again. “I do apologize for her behavior. She’s close to both the old man and this one here. She’s clearly in some kind of shock. Could she stay in the care of your healers while we talk in private?”

  “I’ll take care of her,” the elderly woman, Sarai, said. “Come here, dear.”

  “Stop treating me as a child!” Shinoto shouted, but her actions merely reinforced the image her seven-year-old body portrayed. “Chet Fai!”

  He was already gone, walking hurriedly beside Mei Ling. Shinoto began to run after them, but the old woman took her by the wrist and placed one of the glowing stones against her palm. “Be calm now, dear. Everything will be fine.”

  Whatever the stone was, it had far more effect over her body, than his own. While it had made Kenji drowsy over time, with Shinoto’s small frame she collapsed into a slumber right away.

  No…

  Kenji stared with contempt as Chet Fai left the healing house with Mei Ling. Who knew what lies and half-truths he would now spread completely unchecked? The thought caused his stomach to sour and his heart to race, but it did nothing to stir his senses.

  He was fading quickly.

  As his vision darkened, he scanned about the room once more, looking for Olja and Waru. They were both still there, the healers infusing them with their Qi. He prayed they would remain there when he awoke, but even as he thought it, the old man’s words came back to him hauntingly: the weak will forever be at the mercy of the strong.

  As Kenj
i lay there helpless and fading, the words could not be more true.

  Chapter 23 - Amikazu

  General Amikazu glided over the treetops, sailing across the outskirts of Zai Pon. The capital city was already within his view, its boundaries protected by high walls made of white stone and topped with red tile, ringing the inner city. In the city center beyond, lay his destination at last—the imperial palace and the throne room of the Zhou dynasty’s great third emperor, Jin Yu Zhou.

  Wind pressed into his face as he soared over farmlands and the peasants working the fields below. They had stretched on for the last several miles—a patchwork of budding green shoots mixed with the dark brown of newly turned earth and the shimmer of flooded rice paddies reflecting the morning sun. The rains were good this year. The crops would be plentiful, and the interior ministry knew it.

  Even now he saw several groups of farmers mounting protests as they surrounded the grain wagons sent by the imperial levy branch. The gray robes, as they were called, went about their business of exacting the empire’s taxes, relieving the peasants of perhaps a third of what they had grown.

  His insides twisted as he watched the extortion play out field after field. It filled him with as much guilt as ire. His salary and those of his troops were paid for by the budget produced by the gray robes, but there was plenty that went to waste as well. Under Jin Yu’s rule they exacted far too much—all of it to fuel the extravagances of the emperor and his council.

  The sight of it made him speed towards his destination.

  The people could only take so much.

  And the empire could not afford to fight a war within its borders as well as without.

  Amikazu conserved his Qi as he vaulted from tree to tree, gliding in between. As he neared the city wall, a vast caravan of peasants entering the city came into view. Livestock and grain, people seeking work—the caravan went on for miles. Many, he knew, were from the far outskirts of the empire, where farms had already failed due to the heavy-handed policies of the imperial council.