Legend of the Red Sun Village

by Mark Swaine

  Yu-Huang drops a few cowrie shells into the bowl and his ears pique to the sound of strings not too far away. It’s a sound he has cherished ever since he was a child, for his father was a master musician. Yu-Huang smiles as he recognises Ling Long Song's unique melodies. For hours on end, he'd focus on her music from atop the Tower of Guang. Yu-Huang approaches the porch of a small hut in a grassy and cobbled square and finds Ling Long Song exactly where he had left her the last time they had played together. The long haired teen sporting a tatty red bandana across her forehead picks casually at the strings of her Guqin and smiles casually as she sees the Emperor approaching. Much time had passed since his last visit, and like always, she makes no obvious note of his regal and divine status. She glances at Yu-Huang's hardly used Guqin, ready and waiting for its owner's note perfect fingers. Yu-Huang stands before Ling Long and listens to the rapid twangs of string played to pitch perfect excellency by the young store keeper. Upon finishing her piece, Yu-Huang bows and places thirty cowrie shells into her collection pot, more than enough to keep her belly warm and full for at least a two weeks. Having lived on the street when she was an infant, there is no fool in Ling, and despite her laidback demeanour, she is not to be taken lightly.

  Ling Long is renowned for her sense of conviction, and even better known for claiming the limbs of any raiders who make attempt to rob her small shop of instruments. Yu-Huang takes a seat beside her on the weathered wicker and bamboo porch as she begins to play a tune and picks up his Guqin to follow her lead. A Guqin is a seven stringed flat piece of wood laid horizontally, but Yu-Huang's is slightly different. The fretboard of his Guqin is crafted from interconnecting black and white dragon scales and the strings are twines of dragon whiskers. Due to the strength of dragon whiskers, the sound when plucked can only be described as electric, and is somehow amplified by perforated slits atop the fretboard. Only Yu-Huang is able to harness the power of dragon string, were a mortal man to attempt to pluck its razor's edge, severed fingers and screams would surely follow. Yu-Huang and Ling Long Song begin their electric duet and close their ears to the loud chatter of shopping crowds. As they listen only to their instruments and the darting sparrows and swifts flying above the square, Ling's spirit elevates into a realm of undiscovered music. Yu-Huang on the other hand, has only ever seen lightning before his eyes whenever he plays. Yu-Huang's father, Yuang-Shi, had always told him it was Raijin watching him from the clouds, but Yu-Huang doubted this tall tale very much. By midday, the village is filled with rich traders who had flocked to the source of enlightening music and Ling Long’s collection pot was over-spilling with cowrie shells. Not only does she possess enough wealth to renovate her store, but to also contribute to the community.

  During their practice, in favour of Ling Long Song's dedication, appreciation and generosity, Yu-Huang plays her a song that will inspire a lifetime of original notes and melodies. As dark approaches, Yu-Huang sees Ling Long resisting an overdue yawn. Leaving his Guqin in Ling Long Song's care once again. The two buskers bow to one another and Yu-Huang continues his journey through the Míngjiào villages. As Ling Long watches the divine Emperor walk on like a regular man, she vows to pass on her new knowledge to every struggling musician. Ling Long Song makes good on her vow and her contributions of aid are identified as a mark of leadership amongst the elders of the community. Many lesser minded youngsters found talents they didn't even know they had, and Ling Long Song was adamant in rooting out hidden talent. The Míngjiào village would go on to become the birthplace of many successful entertainers, paving the way to the Huanghua city for countless performers and artists. In the midst of a freezing winter, Yu-Huang arrives at the Shinnen palace and relieves High Priest Dingbang of his duty as keeper of the throne. High Priest Dingbang updates the Emperor on matters that require his attention. The humble Priest informs Yu-Huang that many messenger storks dispatched to every corner of the Empire had returned bearing bad tidings. All the warnings and pleads for aid revealed the same horrible news...the dead have risen. Even though the people of the Huanghua capital are safe behind the fortified walls, Yu-Huang ponders upon why there hasn't been one case reported within the city or outer territories.

  Could it be his divine influence keeping the darkness afar, or is this evil self aware and saving them for an even worse fate. Had the vessel of the Darkness cast a spell upon the small population of the depraved ones, allowing them to hide their wicked selves in plain sight. Yu-Huang dismisses the unlikely possibilities, for he believes his powers of good are greater than this menacing Darkness, but a niggling doubt needs him to know for sure. At the top of the Tower of Guang, Yu-Huang meditates on the condition of the general population. As the people of the Huanghua realm go about their business, little do they know that their Emperor is peering into their souls. Souls of the kind and just, but also of the damned. What disturbs Yu-Huang the most regarding those destined for Diyu, are their friendly faces. They are common people that many wouldn’t believe capable of such acts of violence, cruelty and hatred. Though few there are, there are far too many than he cared to admit. Yu-Huang finds it strange that he feels no compassion or thoughts of remorse for their ultimate fate. It takes time and focus for Yu-Huang to infiltrate damned essence and finds some of the darker souls practically impenetrable. Some of them have deadly, disgusting and disturbing secrets that have damned their souls to Diyu, and they walk freely amongst the innocent. But even though he senses no presence of demons or the Darkness, he senses a strong evil growing within the damned ones,

  “Or, has it always been this way,” muses Yu-Huang, troubled.

  The Emperor focuses harder as he kneels atop the Tower of Guang, and his forehead sweats heavily as his face turns pale. Delving into the many souls of the cruel and wicked is tiresome and disheartening for the Emperor. After five sunsets of being exposed to their evil thoughts and deeds, he becomes sick and feverish. A bad feeling grows within Yu-Huang’s gut, and he now knows it’s only a matter of time before the undead plague appears behind the city walls. The only course of action he can think of, also poses a great dilemma. A spell of immortality on the wicked would surely stop the wicked from rising upon their deaths. But by preventing their mortal deaths he would be creating eternal monsters.

  Yu-Huang realises he knows less about the trickery of mortals than he previously thought, regardless of the many good people he has befriended upon his travels. In order to understand the complexities of mortal man, Yu-Huang knows he needs a complex test subject to study. Yu-Huang seeks out a particular aura, a mortal that is unable to hide its true nature. This particular aura shrouds the bodies in black, but is contained with a bright gold lining. After delving into one such soul to study, he concentrates on the gold lining that represents their good spirit containing their dark nature. Yu-Huang takes his eyes off the hatred ridden Kamui Li and recognises many more who possess the same aura. What would become of them he does not know, but he decides to leave them be and allow fate take its course. Yu-Huang finds that studying the souls of those burdened with guilt is equally as painful as exploring the souls of the wicked. Suddenly he feels a shortness of breath as he senses a weighted pain on his chest that he’s unable to move. Yu-Huang is accustomed to sensing and peering into the damned souls of mortals, yet this was the first time he'd ever felt the effects of their foul doings. On his shaking hands and weak knees, saliva drops from his mouth as he dry heaves, as if to rid his body of the evil he has tasted. Yu-Huang's hands clench as he concentrates on controlling his breathing, and as a bright light bursts from his eyes he feels strength from within pulling him back to his feet. Able to think more clearly, he dismisses the idea of cursing the cursed with the Spell of Immortality and allows himself more time to create a plausible solution. With his eyes of light focussing on his people, he concentrates on improving the territories and dispatching aid where most needed. Believing his cause of fatigue to be the extent of evil he is exposed to, he underplays his previous weakened state and sets about his du
ties. Yu-Huang does much over the course of the winter and ensures aid is dispatched to the outskirts, with more soldiers being shipped to the less secure areas of the cities. With his orders being carried out swiftly and his feelings of tiredness no more, Yu-Huang sleeps a little better. On his throne, Yu-Huang finds himself pondering over his latest travels whilst smiling in thought. Other times his thoughts stray to the less than fortunate people he met, and hopes they are better off now.

  CHAPTER NINE

  With the gruelling winter frosting the nights and days, life continues, peacefully and joyously just as it did before. The people of the territories are no longer fearful of the impending doom taking place elsewhere in the realm of China, not even the extreme cold could lower their moods. The Darkness is still a reoccurring subject around the city walls though, but discussed without fear and more as a topic of interest. They believe themselves safe, and why shouldn't they? A full year has passed since the Samurai arrived bearing bad tidings and the Darkness is nowhere to be seen, muses Yu-Huang. They believe themselves safe, under his rule they believe nothing can harm them, but the silence of this force only causes Yu-Huang concern, he foresees nothing regarding its plan of attack. Why is this force of evil taking so long to reveal itself to him wonders Yu-Huang. On a cold night during his slumber, Yu-Huang's peaceful dreams transpire into insane nightmares, visions of various warriors seeking blood by the gallons. He wakes up in the middle of the night sweating heavily and gasping for breath, frowning in dismay at the return of his troubled state. In the early hours of the morning, he strolls down to the courtyard. Noticing how untidy the ground is, he picks up a nearby brush and begins sweeping the smooth slabbed ground. The hypnotising sound of stiff bristles brushing upon the paved courtyard carries on for hours on end. Sweeping up dust and pink cherry blossom petals Yu-Huang desires nothing more than to quiet his mind. But to Yu-Huang, there is something significant in every action and deed, even in something as sweeping the floor. Besides, Yu-Huang doesn't like dust, to him it represented nothing; nothing but death and decay. Death and decay, much like this curse of eternal life; like this Darkness that lingers outside his Empire and has yet to announce its presence, like the Shikyo blade that he’s yet to locate. No matter how much he swept, the dust returned, carried by gusts of wind and collecting in places the thistles had difficulty reaching. Yu-Huang gently edges the bristles into the corner of the steps as he delves into the far corners of his mind. There are so many questions that need answers, yet he doesn't even know which question to ask first, but the sweeping was bringing him closer to a solution. Whenever Yu-Huang assumed he'd reached a conclusion to his thoughts, he would simply return the broom to where he found it and retread his steps in the Shinnen temple. In the maze of narrow shelves Yu-Huang studies the ancient scrolls obsessively, from the oldest parchments of codex, to the crazy scribbles of the Ministers before his time. He searches high and low, from the bowels of the darkest abandoned stores, to the ascent of the cylindrical tower. But still, he finds nothing, legends and lore describing various demons and monsters. The closest he can find to any scripture making mention of the Undead, is a creature called a ‘Jiangshi’ (Vampire).

  Yu-Huang had heard tales of the Jiangshi as a child, Elder-Priest Yama, one of his five guardians often educated him in the knowledge of beasts that dare to be. Yu-Huang has seen much during the centuries, but has never actually seen a Jiangshi, but he does recall the lore and the tatty faded codex is consistent with his knowledge. Sunlight, silver and the will of good man harms the Jiangshi, but their strength and natural ability to harness and manipulate various energies grants them great power. But their greatest weakness derives from their need to feed off the living, another trait of the undead recalls Yu-Huang. But that is all Yu-Huang finds, and despite his mad scrambles to dusty and cobweb laden shelves, he finds no records of any Darkness, or cases of the dead rising from their graves. Five sunsets later, Yu-Huang returns to the courtyard, hoping an epiphany will free him of this mental torment. Leaning on the edge of his brush, he observes the minute, pink petals escaping the branches of cherry blossom trees in giant gentle hurricanes. In his lost moments, he shakes his head in dismay as he becomes aware he’s going round in circles. Yu-Huang also becomes aware that he’s failing to know his enemy better. He even begins to wonder if he’s right about the twin blades and their prophecy to destroy a source born of Darkness and evil. Yu-Huang tosses the broom to one side and storms off and stops suddenly as strange voice address him in one of those weird dialects.

  “Easy lad, that’s a good brush that is,” says the old and gruff gentle voice.

  Yu-Huang turns suddenly, to find no one, not one soul lurking in the courtyard. The Emperor's eyes dart from side to side as he turns in all directions until looking at the broom resting neatly against a statue. Yu-Huang finally begins to laugh off the weird moment and passes it off as a side effect of the Spell of the Tongue. On that crisp dark night, Yu-Huang retires to his throne room and drifts asleep. Perched out of sight, a nearby dragonfly flutters its veiny wings and buzzes through an open window. Waking suddenly, Yu-Huang exasperates and retires to his bed chamber to concentrate his dreams on the riddle of the Weaver girl, the needle and the cat. Before long and with little effort, he finds himself flying through the darkness of night with endless grey clouds rushing toward him. Yu-Huang finally breaks through the clouds into the clear of blackness behind a sparkling sea of stars. Flying over his great rule he sees no lights illuminating the vast greatness of the Huanghua territories, except for one weak sparkle of amber. Yu-Huang positions his body into a dive and his robe flaps savagely as he descends upon the source.

  Landing much harder than he intends to, the hard impact from his landing sends a rippling wave of wind toward the Weaver shacks. The blast of air blows the doors open and rattles the shuttered windows of the nearby huts. Yu-Huang finds himself in familiar surroundings and curiously walks through the walls of the Weaver shack. Yu-Huang appears confused as he sees his past self. He turns to look at what he is watching so intently. Standing behind the shoulder of his past self, both watch as the Weaver girl begins sucking her finger after pricking it the first time. Yu-Huang ponders in concern at the time paradox, realising that it is in fact he who is the cause of Weaver's misfortune. Yu-Huang walks through his past self and alerts a playful cat to his presence. Angered and startled by the approaching spectre, the cat reveals its rows of sharp teeth as it hisses wildly before screeching. Startling the Weaver once again, she pricks her finger for the second time. Yu-Huang, realising he is yet again to blame for her second injury, begins having difficulty differentiating dream from reality. Yu-Huang closes his eyes tiredly and when he opens them again; he finds the events playing over again, starting with the blast of wind caused by his own landing impact. This time, only the Weaver girl remains, with the rows of workstations void of production. She pricks her finger once again, only this time the bleeding doesn't stop and she simply stares at the blood leaving her finger until her chair and table are surrounded by a pool of dark red blood. As her still, white face lies flat on her worktop, a bolt of white lightning breaks through the roof and strikes her entire body and blinds Yu-Huang with light. As the scene begins to replay over again, the look of frustration upon Yu-Huang's face becomes evident as he is unable to find resolve in the dream playing out before him yet again. Yu-Huang's past self is suddenly distracted by his ghostly self and briefly acknowledges his presence before addressing him.

  “Look at what we have done; we do not belong here. We are too dangerous to exist among the mortals,” says Yu-Huang's past self.

  “But where should I go?” asks Yu-Huang.

  “You know, and you must take the Darkness with you,” he replies, vaguely.

  “I do not understand,” says Yu-Huang urgently.

  “Upon embracing the twin blades, Shikyo and Yasu, you will understand... everything,” replies Yu-Huang's former self.

  Yu-Huang watches his old self fade into darkness, b
ut not before he can offer one last warning.

  “You must wake... she is here,” warns Yu-Huang's past self.

  Yu-Huang, still very much asleep on his throne, heeds his former self's warning but is unable to wake. The Weaver girl is a centimetre away from pricking her finger before stopping; she smiles a wide mouth of black dyed teeth and slowly turns to look at Yu-Huang. The Emperor is unresponsive and more curious to the Weaver girl's sudden interaction, but his curiosity soon changes to despair as he listens to a terrified voice coming from her motionless mouth.

  “Father, help me,” says the frightened voice of a young girl.

  Yu-Huang suddenly senses the paternal need to help the scared girl, but is instantly silenced as the Weaver girl holds her index finger to her mouth, “sshhhhh”.