by Ryan Kirk
Curious, she walked over to the front edge of the brothel’s roof and crouched down. She allowed most of the energy to drain from her body. If the monks sensed her, she would have a considerable problem.
Her eyes ran over the crowd below, but she didn’t see any monks. Their white robes stuck out even in a crowd. But she still felt them, and they were getting closer.
There.
Her sight and sense agreed. A group of three young men approached the brothel. None of them wore the white robes of their station, but their gait gave them away. They were men who spent their entire lives training to fight. They could wear loose-fitting traveling clothes, but she wouldn’t miss a monk in any disguise.
Once she picked them out, she knew they only had one destination in mind, their eyes fixed on a point straight ahead.
And she was squatting on top of it.
She hurried out of sight. Once she was as far away from them as possible, she summoned the power to leap across the rooftops and return to Hien.
Hien had seen the entire episode, but without being gifted, could only guess at what had happened. “Who are they?”
“Monks.”
“In a brothel, without their robes?”
Bai nodded. There weren’t any prohibitions about monks visiting brothels, even within the monasteries. So why hide who they were? It was true that public opinion had turned against the monks in the past several years, but that rarely put a damper on their activities. They were the strongest warriors in the empire, and why would the strong worry about the opinion of the masses?
Bai considered the problem. The appearance of the monks probably meant little. If they visited the brothel again tomorrow, it might be a problem. If she used her powers, any nearby monks would likely notice them.
But they still had plenty of options. Breaking the woman out of the brothel shouldn’t prove too challenging.
As she and Hien worked their way back to the streets, Bai hoped she wasn’t wrong.
2
Delun crested the small rise that hid Two Bridges from view. The mere sight of the town took a weight off his shoulders. How long had it been since he had last been back here? Two months? The days and weeks blurred in his memory.
Too long.
Delun stopped, taking a moment to inspect the landscape. He noticed the differences first. New houses were being built on the outskirts of town, and the streets looked more crowded than ever before.
Two Bridges, like most of the empire, was growing. For most, the last decade had been one of peace and prosperity. Despite the tensions that simmered underneath the surface there had been no major conflicts. Even the Kulat Rebellion had only destroyed the lives of a few hundred people, and most of those had been from the failed military response. People didn’t care much about wars that didn’t affect them personally.
He let his eyes travel to the mountain ridge high above. Snow already settled on some peaks, and before long travel to the monastery would be difficult. But for now, the path looked open.
He wanted to shed the weight that burdened his heart. But he couldn’t outrun memories as easily as enemies.
He’d just come from a small village, so small it wasn’t even named. There had been rumors that the village intended to begin an armed rebellion against the monasteries.
The rumor had to have been someone’s poor idea of a joke.
They had hated the monasteries well enough. Delun walked into the village wearing his white robes and immediately been attacked. But the village possessed less than a dozen able-bodied men. Now there were less than half that many. The fight was quick, but bloodier than Delun preferred.
He’d left, disgusted with the situation. They’d attacked so fast he’d had no choice in his response. He’d offered coin in recompense, but had been harshly turned down. Now the village would hate monks even more than they had before.
And that was how it went, one day at a time. Delun created a story that would travel from mouth to ear across the empire. Another story about the evil monks who sought only power and money.
People would never learn about the lives he saved, the criminals he imprisoned or killed. Those stories remained as secrets. But every time a monk erred, the whole empire knew.
Seeing the outline of the monastery high above gave him an unreasonable amount of hope. He had grown up here, and perhaps this was the one place where he still found peace. Thirty years ago, the monastery at Two Bridges had burned. Since then it had kept itself relatively aloof from the affairs of the empire, becoming a haven for some of the strongest and most talented monks the empire had ever known. He had trained there for years as a child before becoming a full-fledged monk. Its rooms would always provide him shelter.
But not if he didn’t get moving. He startled with the sudden realization he’d been standing in place for several minutes. He strode forward, eagerly looking forward to a meal in town before completing the intense hike up the mountain.
Delun received more than his fair share of glares as he came into Two Bridges. He did his best to ignore them and put forward the monastery’s best face. He returned the glares with smiles, but halfway through the growing town he lost his appetite. There was no joy in eating a meal where one’s company wasn’t desired. Some dried meat still rested in his pack, enough to sustain him to the ridge the monastery rested on.
Soon he was on the other side of the town, the anger at his back. His attitude improved slightly outside of town, but regret and sorrow weighed down his heart. He had dedicated almost his entire life to the monasteries. They weren’t perfect. He understood that, better than most. Some of his work targeted other monks.
But the monasteries were the empire’s best hope. The empire needed strong and wise leaders who had the ability to change the world. The monks could be those leaders if the empire gave them the chance.
To this day, Delun remembered having his own young life saved by a monk. That was the day he discovered exactly what he wanted from life.
He lived his dream day after day, but it wasn’t what he had imagined. For all the good he performed, the world turned further away from the monasteries.
Delun questioned whether he should even continue.
Some small part of him hoped that Taio, the abbot he had grown up with inside the walls of the monastery, would have some answers for him, some guidance that would show him the way. With every step he climbed up the mountain, he kept his eyes on the summit.
The path to the monastery was wide and well-traveled. For the first half of the ascent the trail wound its way up the mountain while surrounded by tall pine trees. Delun breathed in the fresh scent deeply, the smell reminding him he was close to home. After about a mile, he broke out of the trees and came to a small intersection. From here he looked out on the valley below. Two Bridges was just beneath him, the cleared ground around the edges of the town a sign of its expansion.
Delun rested for a moment, snacking on the last of his meat while he watched the valley below. From up here the world seemed quieter and more peaceful, a bit of distance making all the difference. Eventually he turned and continued his journey.
The trail remained wide and easy to navigate. The monastery above was over a hundred years old. While people didn’t travel the path every day, enough made the journey to keep the trail wide and unbroken. Tall granite slabs rose to Delun’s side.
It didn’t take him too long to reach a small marker in the road. Monks had placed the marker about twenty-five years ago to commemorate a duel, a duel that changed the world. Delun stopped to examine the slab of rock, cut smoothly by a powerful attack. Another hole in the rock a few paces on was about as wide as Delun’s thumb.
The Dragon’s Fang attack.
This was the place where a rebel had ambushed a monk named Jian. Two masters of their age had fought here, but Jian had lost. The duel on this road led to the Battle of Jihan, which had led to the Rebellion of Kulat.
Delun’s mind wandered as he traced the ripples of his
tory. The same events probably would have come to pass anyway, but this fight had been the seed that started it all. Being as Delun had been discovered and saved during the Battle of Jihan, he supposed he could trace the path of his life back to this place as well.
All times were times of change, but this age was different. These changes would echo down the halls of history. Delun didn’t know which direction the empire would take. He only hoped it was one that gave the monks the respect and authority they deserved.
With the sun racing toward the mountaintops, Delun figured he had better pick up his pace. He pushed hard to the end of the trail, resting only when he crested the last switchback that brought the monastery into view. A thick rock wall surrounded the monastery, a wall that had stood unbroken for over a hundred years. From the trail, a few of the taller buildings could be seen peeking over the wall. Delun’s spirits lifted as he saw the only place that he considered home.
Monks let him through the gate with little fanfare. They sensed his power just as he sensed theirs. Beyond that, they all knew him.
As soon as he stepped into the courtyard, a thin smile broke out on his face. Taio, the abbot of this monastery, stood in the courtyard providing a few students with additional instruction. Taio saw him enter, gave him a welcoming nod, then returned to his students.
Delun stayed for a bit and watched. He’d been on the road for months, and although he knew Taio’s teachings well, perhaps there was something for him to learn.
He was quickly disappointed. The students were younger, in ways beyond their age. Delun saw the problem as soon as they began. Taio was attempting to demonstrate the third single-handed attack, but the teachings flew over the students’ heads. The third attack, both the one-handed and two-handed versions, was the first that required true focus of one’s will. A natural gift and training made the first two signs relatively straightforward. But the third often separated competent monks from those still stuck on the basics. These boys didn’t have the patience. They ran through the moves too quickly. They never achieved focus.
Taio ordered them to try a dozen times while Delun watched, but no one succeeded. The abbot, more patient than Delun remembered, tried again and again to slow them down, but the lesson never held. Finally, Taio ended the session, giving gentle words of encouragement to the young men as they returned to their daily tasks.
Taio came and sat on the stone next to Delun. He sighed.
Delun offered the rest of his water skin. Taio accepted it with a nod of thanks. “You’re gentler than you used to be.”
Taio grunted, his attitude clear. “They can’t handle strict training. They complain and sulk the following day, stealing their own valuable practice time.”
Delun frowned. He’d heard similar statements at other monasteries. Still, he was surprised to hear it here. Years ago, they had admitted only fully trained monks into this monastery. Delun knew they had relaxed the rule, but he hadn’t expected to see such untrained recruits. “How are you?”
Taio handed back the water skin. “I’ve been better.” The abbot studied Delun. “But I feel better than you look.”
The two men sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the daily routine of the monastery as evening approached. Just being back here made him feel better. He felt comfortable surrounded by the sights, the smells, and the routines.
Taio finally stood up. “You should stay for a while.”
Delun shook his head, wishing he could accept. “There are rumors of a plot in Jihan.”
Taio took a step and stood directly in front of Delun. “There’s always a plot in Jihan. And you look more ragged than I’ve ever seen you. You can’t solve all the empire’s problems on your own, and I doubt a week will matter.”
“A week?”
“Until the Harvest Festival.”
Delun blinked. Somewhere in the back of his mind he had known that the festival was approaching, but he’d never thought of it.
He stood up and stretched. A week wouldn’t be too bad, and staying here had a tremendous appeal. His temptation was strong.
He rubbed at his temples. His duty was to the people of the empire, and that meant no rest for him. “I appreciate the offer.”
Taio shook his head. “Fine, then. It’s an order. You need sleep and rest.”
Delun still could have left, but his will was weak. A rest sounded fantastic. He nodded.
Taio smiled. “I thought you would eventually see things my way. And maybe while you’re here, you can train some of these young men how to fight.”
Delun groaned inwardly. He’d only been here a few minutes, but he already knew that if he was forced to teach, he would be looking for a way out.
3
Lei looked up sharply from his teacup. Daiyu, his wife, raised an eyebrow at the motion, posing a silent question.
“There are two gifted coming up the mountain.”
Daiyu grimaced. Lei knew she had been looking forward to some quiet time alone with him. The last few weeks had been busy, and they had intentionally set aside time to simply be with one another. The visitors, whoever they were, couldn’t have chosen a worse time. Still, Daiyu knew well how duty interfered with pleasure. “I’ll see you when you return. Don’t be long.”
Lei reached out and held her hand for a moment. The temptation to shun his responsibilities pulled at his heart. All he wanted to do was spend his afternoon here, alone with Daiyu.
The world had other plans.
He stood and grabbed his sword from the corner of the room. Neither of the powers hiking up the path were strong, but one of them felt unique. When he’d first noticed the second power, he’d thought it might be Bai. The similarity was striking, but it wasn’t his old student.
Lei opened the door to his house just in time to see the young man who had been watching the pass today run up the stairs to his porch. The man stopped short. “There are two people coming up the path.”
A range of replies occurred to Lei. The man had shirked his duties. Lei should have received warning far before he could sense them. He’d lecture the outlook later, but he didn’t have the energy to do so now. He gave a short nod and stepped down the stairs.
Lei didn’t hurry. Though the two visitors were close enough for him to sense, the last few switchbacks up to his village were steep. He had several minutes before they crested the ridge.
The outlook followed Lei as he walked through his village. It had grown in the past few years. Despite their attempts at secrecy, word of the village had slowly spread. Those who lived below, in Kulat and Galan, had softened their attitudes, making the decision easier for many.
People came here for varied reasons. Some sought a simpler life, others fled from enemies, still others ran from the empire. He and Daiyu welcomed anyone they judged would contribute to their small enclave.
Several people wandered about this afternoon. The air was brisk, but those who lived here tended towards hardy. Lei greeted friends and neighbors and accepted condolences as he could. One or two wanted to speak with him at length. He promised that he would, but that visitors were coming.
He reached the edge of the village before his guests appeared. When he saw the man leading the pair, he immediately relaxed. He hadn’t seen the monk for years, but it was definitely Yang.
Yang was the abbot of the closest monastery, a full day’s journey away in the city of Kulat. At one time, Yang had almost rebelled against the whole monastic system, but after the Massacre of Kulat, he had ended up as abbot.
Lei kept a close eye on events in the surrounding area. At least, he tried as much as a man who lived in self-imposed exile could. He’d heard little but good news since Yang had taken over, and the abbot had earned his trust several times over.
A young woman walked behind Yang. Her eyes were wary and her body tense. She was the one who felt almost like Bai.
The powers might have been similar, but the personalities were anything but. A single glance told Lei that the young woman in fr
ont of him was closed off, private, and ready for a fight. Although they’d just met, he saw a woman who’d had a turbulent life.
Lei gave Yang a short bow, which was returned slightly deeper. A small acknowledgment that although Yang was an abbot, Lei’s strength was far greater.
They exchanged pleasantries and Lei led them back into the village. He trusted Yang, but the woman’s silent presence left him on edge. Lei planned to lead them to the common room, but Yang asked if they could take the path to the clearing above. Lei, more curious than worried, agreed.
They climbed the path without a word, and Lei’s memories of training Bai surfaced from the depths of his past. She probably hadn’t known then, but he’d felt the importance of those grueling days.
Yang seemed to peer directly into his thoughts. “You feel it, too?”
Lei struggled to express the changes he had sensed for the past couple of months. Feelings, instincts, and rumors had gradually coalesced into something more, something he struggled to understand. “A circle is closing.”
Yang nodded. “Well said. My father was a tailor, and I would say that the strands of fate are finally coming together. But we feel the same, I think.”
They crested the steep path that led to the clearing. A small mountain lake rested ahead of them, crystal blue waters inviting and cold. Tall pines surrounded the clearing, in clumps that grew year after year as the small forest spread.
Yang breathed in deeply. “You still train here, don’t you?”
It was half a comment, half an inquiry. Lei confessed that he did.
“I figured as much. You’ve created a new legend, you know, or perhaps your first. There are ever fewer people who know your past.”
“For the best, I’d imagine.”
“Who knows? But the past is unchangeable, even for you. Any monk within three miles of this place can feel you when you train, though.”
Lei hadn’t heard. Yang and Bai were the only gifted who visited his village, and neither had visited for over a year. For as interested in news as he was, though, his patience still wore thin. This had been time for him and Daiyu. “Why are you here, Yang?”
