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Legend of the Red Sun Village

Page 59

by Mark Swaine


  “He said he needed to study the Black Dragon for his latest invention. He is harmless, and a hard worker, but nevertheless his crime did not go unpunished. I sentenced him to one year servitude. Manual labour, maintenance, fixings, he was very useful,” says Seto.

  “Was he granted an audience with the dragon?” asks Yu-Huang.

  “This is where the matter becomes interesting Master Yu-Huang. The dragon had already given Mǎkè everything he needed before we discovered this imposter. The dragon told me if we took Mǎkè's designs away, he would incinerate the prison with a single breath,”

  “Designs?” asks Yu-Huang.

  “Yes designs, sketches, scale samples, notes, an entire codex of the dragon's anatomy,” replies the warden.

  “Very strange,” replies Yu-Huang.

  “The beast is your... whatever he is to you, you must speak with the dragon. I am the warden here, not the dragon. I cannot allow this beast to be seen to have more authority than I in my own prison, especially where my men and the inmates are concerned,” says Seto sternly.

  “I am here to speak with the dragon; I will address this issue immediately. But there is another, more serious matter I speak with you about,” says Yu-Huang sternly.

  “This sounds serious old friend,” says Warden Seto.

  “It is, I must say I was disturbed... and very disappointed to learn that you turned away the prisoners that were dispatched to you,” says Yu-Huang, frowning.

  “care to be more specific, I turned away many caravans,” says the Warden.

  ''a troll, and a Jade Soldier,'' replies Yu-Huang.

  “A troll? Where would I hold a troll? What cell would contain such a beast? Master Yu-Huang, after the attack my priority was roll call, to ensure that every single murderer, thief and Necromancer was accounted for, not looking for a safe place to house another of your pets. Need I remind you this is not a pen for fluffy little animals,” says Warden Seto firmly.

  “And the Jade soldier, why not at least admit him?” asks Yu-Huang,

  “Yu-Huang, my dear friend, our cells overflow with wretched scum every day. The prison is at full capacity. Were your visits here more frequent you would know this yourself,” replies warden Seto. “You retired me as your General, my Emperor, and replaced me with the false King Arachie. You gave me this detail, should you once again feel there is a man who can do the job better than I... bring him forth,” says Seto, formally.

  “Master Seto, I continue to be grateful for your past and present service and dedication to duty. But you took this detail, you are welcome to retire whenever you please, nobody is keeping you here. But while you are here, you must keep me informed, not keep your pride from asking me for aid, or counsel,” says Yu-Huang, sternly.

  “What aid can you possible provide in a place like this? Are you going to make everybody 'good' with your hands of light? Do it, cleanse this place, they will only be replaced by even more wretched filth and scum the following sunrise,” says Seto, patronisingly.

  “Thousands have died. Do not mock me my old friend, this is no laughing matter,” says Yu-Huang.

  “Thousands have died, twenty-one men, twenty-one of my soldiers! lost their lives defending these...sordid...pieces of shit who you probably beleive are worthy of redemption. Were I you I would save myself some valuable time and energy and toss each and every one of them into the Pits of Guàiwù,” says Warden Seto.

  “Like you would do with the Jade soldier and the troll?” asks the Emperor.

  “That was a mistake, but holding this prison whilst ensuring the convicts are kept behind its bars is my duty. I am not in charge of keeping track of your associates, and I am not fucking laughing at losing good men to the very same people they have been charged to protect. You have come to the wrong place to preach talk of goodwill your highness,” rants Warden Seto, forgetting his place.

  “I did not come here to preach talk of goodwill, I came here to understand why you turned away two of the people you refer to in such high regard. They were my allies, which means they were your allies. They were the same people who fought alongside you, only on a different battlefield. And you sent them to the Pits of Guàiwù, to their deaths,” says Yu-Huang.

  “I can only beg your forgiveness your highness. The executions won't begin until daybreak, there is ample time to dispatch a crane to the Pits,” says the Warden shamefacedly.

  “A crane has already been dispatched, but send another to be sure. Thank you for the Honey juice,” says Yu-Huang, finishing the debate civilly.

  “You are quite welcome my Emperor,” says warden Seto, humbly and disappointedly.

  “Shall we?” says the Emperor gesturing to leave. “How much for the Cold Box?” asks Yu-Huang, breaking the ice with the forlorn warden.

  “It's not for sale, not to you,” replies the sulky warden.

  “We will see,” replies Yu-Huang, pushing him on roughly and playfully.

  Warden Seto leads Yu-Huang along the swaying catwalks, and Yu-Huang looks up to rattling cages being shook by shouting prisoners. The cages rattle to the endless ascent of the fortress as they shout furiously for they could smell their freedom close when the attack had begun.

  “Do you now see?” says Seto observing Yu-Huang's perturbed face.

  “How long has it been this way?” asks Yu-Huang.

  Master Seto stops in his walk with a bemused expression, and Yu-Huang stops to observe his weird expression hiding behind that massive beard.

  “Master Yu-Huang, it has always been this way, and today you appear surprised. What has happened to you, you look different, you sound... different,” says Seto, worriedly.

  “Just take me to the dragon,” says Yu-Huang, confused by Seto's observations.

  Yu-Huang looks at the rows of circular voids in the platforms, and the thick singular vines travelling through each one. Guards access the hundreds of levels by beating the dangling vines with a stick in accordance to the desired floor. Yu-Huang watches soldiers being yanked away and upwards to their destination as they make roll call on the swinging platforms way above. But Yu-Huang did not want to go up; the presence he seeks resides in the belly of the prison where the beast resides. Where the air grows hot, so hot the air is unbearable to breath. Where the savages are kept, where the undesirables are held, inmates that are too dangerous to mingle with other, less hostile inmates. Violators of women, murderers, heretics, anything worse and they would meet an untimely death in a very unique or boring fashion, depending on how bored the guards are during their long shift. It makes sense from a dragon’s perspective to choose a hot habitat, but Yu-Huang knows there is more to his way of thinking than meets the eye. The dragon chose to remain in this inferno of metal and florae, hiding in shame, and in fear. The Emperor continues walking along the rows of barred cells until reaching the end of the bronze platform. Warden Seto gestures to a guard and he opens the doors to a tubular cage hanging above a circular void in the platform. Yu-Huang enters the bamboo and bronze cast cage supported in an enclosed grip at its base by three, large glossy coral tinted petals. Oyster coloured filaments play with their supportive grip around the bars as the petals adjust to the weight of the Emperor and his escort.

  The guard taps the stem of the flower on both sides, signifying the lowest level. The cage wobbles slightly in its slow descent and the gaps in the prison wall grow larger in size until stone is replaced by giant leaps of red and orange fire. Yu-Huang observes the strength of the vines holding together the lower levels of the dungeons where entire levels would cave onto the next were it not for the intervention of the hulking creepers. A puzzle of cage boxes are strung to bamboo platforms by the fantastic green climbers, almost as if they had a mind to know best how to construct a prison of their own. The stem holds the weight of the cage as it sways gently from side to side holding its balance and descends further into the depths of the dungeons. The cage finally slows to a stop and the muscled green stem coils up into a winding mound on a bronze plated platform
to form a circular flight of steps. The escort opens the cage and informs Yu-Huang that he will be waiting for him when he is ready to leave. Yu-Huang walks down the steps of vines that continue down a long and tall, wide arch shaped corridor. Arch shaped prison cells flank both sides of the wide, bronze cast corridor, but it’s the massive chamber entrance dead ahead that Yu-Huang cannot take his eyes off. The Black Dragon has no cell, only a bronze dome chamber that looks out onto the flames of the red hot abyss. As Yu-Huang continues down the wide long skywalk, convicts hang their arms over the bars of the cages whilst staring at the royal visitor, others are not so quiet. The Emperor ignores the many heckles and taunts from the brutal convicts as they make reference toward his good looks whilst branding him a “Piàoliang nánhái (pretty boy)” among other things. He indulges not in their boredom and wanting for conflict as they howl and whistle with laughter. All but one mocks the Emperor, a long haired and scraggly bearded inmate gripping the bars of his chamber. The convict stares intently at the passing stranger until he realises who he is. The inmate suddenly begins shouting and reaching out for him between the bars.

  “Emperor Yu-Huang, Emperor Yu-Huang please... stop!” shouts the desperate man.

  The Emperor stops to look at the unshaven face braced between two solid bars of bronze and bamboo.

  “What do you want, convict?” asks Yu-Huang, with disdain.

  “Please, I beg of you, use your divine sight. There is a girl, I- I have a daughter, she is out there somewhere, she needs me. I need to know she is safe,” says the inmate desperately.

  Yu-Huang's interest in the convict is piqued even further as he notices a green barb sheathed inside a tightly wrapped leaf laid by his hammock. A hammock formed from a thorn frilled leaf, a hammock that provides the tools to train in the art of Wushu.

  “Many were killed in the attack, I cannot seek out every living soul,” says Yu-Huang, civilly. “Not anymore,” he says quietly to himself in annoyance.

  “You fucking liar! At least try! She’s just a baby. If she was your child you would still be looking!” shouts the inmate.

  “If I had a child I would be sure not to fate myself to a future in a place such as this,” says Yu-Huang.

  “Fuck you! Fuck you and your self-righteous view from your Tower of Guang. You know not of what you speak with your riches and servants. I want not wealth, nor food, nor water. All I but ask if that you use your sight and tell me she is alive and well, do this and will I serve the rest of my sentence in Pits of Guàiwù,” begs the inmate.

  Yu-Huang steps closer to the cell and looks carefully at the familiar eyes of the prisoner, and once again his ears wander to Kamui Li's mind penetrating, spell of the tongue.

  “You train with that weapon?” Yu-Huang asks, inquisitively.

  ”We do,” replies the prisoner.

  “We?” replies the Emperor.

  Yu-Huang peers across to the other cells and sees that the inmates possess the very same makeshift Dao swords. The convicts realise their neighbour is sharing words with a visitor who is in fact their Emperor, yet they do not ask forgiveness to excuse their earlier crude behaviour. Some retreat to their makeshift hammocks, others pace in circles, occasionally shooting the odd scornful look to the way of their rich, wealthy and educated Master.

  “Does Warden Seto know about this?” asks Yu-Huang.

  “Who gives a fuck,” says the inmate in the adjacent cell

  “The warden knows nothing,” says the compliant prisoner.

  “These weapons are contraband, I will inform the warden and have them removed,” informs Yu-Huang.

  “What is he going to do, threaten us with his giant beard,” continues the prisoner in the adjacent cell.

  Yu-Huang clenches his fist and throws a punch in the laughing convict’s direction. The ball of air hits the large-chested man and knocks him against the wall unconscious.

  “Go ahead Kuángrén (Madman), tell him,” says another smirking prisoner.

  “We train to serve you Master Yu-Huang,” explains the convict.

  “I not require the services of scum like you, or scum like him,” says Yu-Huang, nodding disdainfully to the large downed man in the other cell. “There are those who scrub the sewers, those who toil from sunrise to sundown just to make a living. Some take joy in their daily chores, others do not, but they do it to lead a fulfilled life, a life of purpose,” says Yu-Huang.

  “Scrubbing the sewers?” asks a distant inmate mockingly,

  “You think you know everything, you think you know everybody, then why did you not see this attack happening before your very nose?” says the desperate prisoner, before realising the significance of his own words.

  The prisoner slowly pushes himself away from the bars as he now sees why the Black Dragon had been training them all this time.

  “He was telling the truth, you truly are blind to the world,” says the prisoner.

  “I need not your understanding! Need not your kind! Nor do I need your allegiance! You, all of you! You are beneath those that do what it takes to survive in this land... you are nothing! Stay here... and rot in your cages,” says Yu-Huang, addressing those around him.

  “You will need us Emperor Yu-Huang,” says the inmate calmly.

  “What is the meaning of this? Why train, why now, why do you strive so hard to serve me? What have you to gain in your empty lives stained with the blood of the innocent?” presses Yu-Huang.

  “Innocent?” scoffs an inmate from another cell, probably referring to his victim.

  “For many, to claim lives in your name, for others, redemption,” replies the inmate.

  “And what for you?” asks Yu-Huang.

  “A second chance to be a father again. My little girl is out there somewhere. She is alone,” replies the prisoner.

  Yu-Huang ponders on the lean prisoner's reason for wanting to serve him, a service that would require the prisoner’s freedom in order for his wish to be granted, and then he ponders on the reason why he is confined to this dark pit.

  “Listen to me carefully, and answer my question if you are able. Why would I seek the aid of thieves, rapists and murderers?” asks Yu-Huang slowly and scornfully.

  “The answer is simple...necessity,” growls the inmate.

  “I have my own army, one that is just and trained by Masters in the arts of Wushu. Why should I trust a bunch of self trained, depraved, corrupt convicts?” shouts Yu-Huang.

  “Because wars are not won by competition of character, they are won by those who would kill to the last man standing. At least allow us to present you with a demonstration,” asks the prisoner. Out of curiosity, the Emperor sighs whilst beckoning the man to arms.

  The convict unsheathes the leaf scabbard from the flat serrated thorn and marks his space with the tip of his green blade. Yu-Huang observes the green whirlwind of rapid fluid movements and hides his astonishment well; even General Arachie would agree the man's form is not far from perfect.

  “All of you!” bellows the Emperor, inspecting the ability of each inmate.

  Each one of the offenders displays near perfect ability to wield the unique swords in an incredible impressive display of Wushu. Yu-Huang realises this feat is impossible without the aid of a Sensei, and he marches strongly back to the mild mannered prisoner.

  “Who is your Sensei? Speak!” shouts Yu-Huang.

  “Hēi lóng (the Black Dragon),” says the prisoner with great pride in his reveal; the prisoner sheathes his Katana and lays it back beside his hammock.

  Yu-Huang appears baffled in motionless silence at how and why the Black Dragon has been teaching the inmates the sacred arts of Wushu.

  “Name yourself, prisoner. For a refuse to believe your linage were enough to name you Kuángrén” commands the Emperor.

  “My name is Gang Huojin,” replies the convict.

  “Why are you here? What crime did you commit?” asks Yu-Huang.

  “That is not of your fucking business,” says Gang Huojin, scornfully.r />
  “All matters of mortals that reside within my Empire... are my fucking business,” growls the Emperor.

  Gang Huojin is not only taken aback at the Emperor's foul return of language, but his flickering green eyes and top row of bright white teeth as his bottom lip folds furiously backwards. Yu-Huang's eyes return to his normal green and he shakes his head as he returns to his conscious state.

  “What just happened,” says Yu-Huang bemused at the loss of time.

  “You tell me,” replies Gang Huojin, questioning the Emperor's sanity.

  Yu-Huang turns to leave, perturbed to his sudden bout of weakness before Gang Houjin.

  “I saw them together,” says Gang Huojin, “my brother and my beloved. They dishonoured me with their betrayal, and I slayed them. I slayed them both,” says Gang, bringing the Emperor to a stop.

 

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