by Jeremy Bai
Her master’s sword flashed through the air in front of her as he utilized a profound master’s version of the art.
The world seemed to slow down in Hui’s eyes.
A storm of needles spread out through the room, a tempest, more needles than she had ever seen in her life. Bao Yang, the closest to Hidden Arrow, deflected some of the needles but was hit by at least two and dropped down to his knees.
At some point, shadows had stretched out from the walls and attached themselves to the monks, nuns, and other disciples, making their arms and legs leaden and immobile. One of the monks took a needle to the eye and started to flip backward into the air. Another was hit in the shoulder, and it spun him to the left.
Hui watched in horror as one ally after another was hit with needles. Only her master, with his brightly spinning sword, seemed capable of deflecting all the needles. Hui was positioned directly behind him and was thus able to benefit from his shield. That, coupled with her own Deflecting Canopy, ensured that she was not hit by a single needle.
The entire fight was over in a matter of seconds. Bao Yang was on his hands and knees, vomiting blood. Most of the monks and nuns had been killed in the initial volley, and those who had not were vomiting blood or twitching in seizures.
Her master stood in front of the cauldron, only an arm’s length from the sword, which was now thrumming with magical power.
“You’re too late, Hidden Arrow,” he said. “The ritual is complete. The time has come.”
Hidden Arrow sauntered forward, chuckling. “I think not. You’re getting slow in your old age.”
To her shock, Hui’s master staggered slightly. He reached his hand up to his neck, and when he pulled it away, a needle could be seen held between his thumb and index finger. A tiny drop of blood rolled off the end.
Hui’s heart lurched.
Her master’s voice spoke in her mind again.
Hui, prepare yourself. I will throw you the sword in the moment before it is activated. You must take my place to accomplish this mission.
Hui’s mind spun, her heart pounding. Master, I can’t! I was supposed to stay here!
Hidden Arrow walked up to Bao Yang and grabbed him by the hair. “Your martial arts fell behind mine decades ago. When we first met, you might have been able to defeat me with a bull rush, but now? Don’t make me laugh.” He lifted his foot up to Bao Yang’s shoulder, then kicked, sending him toppling to the ground in a pool of vomit and blood. “Cutting your head off would be too quick. I think watching you die this way will be much more enjoyable.” He turned toward Hui’s master.
You must accomplish the mission, Hui. I’ve been hit with Hidden Arrow’s enhanced hellebore poison. Even if I use the sword, I’ll still die after reaching the destination. When I throw it your way, all you have to do is grab on and hold tight.
Hui resisted the urge to cry. Master, I’ve memorized the Song of Bao, but I haven’t mastered the Trance Touch incantation!
“I don’t think that sword does what you want it to,” Hidden Arrow said, folding his hands behind his back. “But I don’t really care. Even if you somehow manage to force it to fail, you’ll still die within minutes, no matter where you end up.”
“Fine, then,” her master said.
Hui, you have the foundation, you just need practice and more power. Once you reach your destination, you will have plenty of time. Now, prepare yourself.
Her master’s hand snaked out, grabbed the sword, and sent it shooting toward Hui with a burst of qi. Hui leapt forward, hand outstretched toward the hilt.
Her heart trembled as Hidden Arrow’s hand also shot out from behind his back. He made a flicking motion, and a needle began to speed toward her.
It moved faster than the sword, much faster. Backed by Hidden Arrow’s profound master qi, the impact itself would likely kill her, and if it didn’t, the poison surely would. She watched the needle get closer and closer, but before it arrived, her hand clamped down on the hilt of the sword.
Time seemed to slow, and then it stopped altogether. Brilliant colors burst out from the blade, surrounding her. They filled her eyes until all she could see was painful whiteness.
Then she vanished.
The needle smacked into the stone wall. Cracks spread out for at least a meter in all directions from the point of impact.
Hui’s master chuckled. “It’s done.”
Hidden Arrow gritted his teeth. “I still don’t believe that you can manipulate the Sword of Time in that way.”
“It doesn’t really matter what you believe, does it? One thing is for certain, Hidden Arrow: I might be about to die, but I’ll be taking you with me!”
Chapter 1: A Brush
Year 50
Reign of the Demon Emperor
Somewhere in the distant northeast of Qi Xien lay a quaint village. It was the kind of village that at one time could have been found almost anywhere, and according to the stories passed down by the village elders, it had existed in the legendary Era of the Thundering March, which was before Qi Xien even truly existed.
The village was neither large nor small. Few famous people had been born there. For the most part, the villagers were happy to live their lives, as they had for the past thousand years. Dynasties had risen and fallen, but this village remained the same.
The adults of the village were mostly fishermen, farmers, and craftsmen. Although stories had been passed down about men from the village being recruited as soldiers, it had mostly been to fight against marauding tribesmen of the Yangu Plains or the Chai Yun, not to participate in grand military campaigns.
Stories of epic warfare were viewed by the village folk as something of legend, and they often questioned whether they were real. None of the men from the village had ever risen to prominence as heroes or generals.
Couple that with the hundreds of years of peace and prosperity that the village had experienced, and one could say that the villagers were complacent. Happy and complacent.
Except for one.
There was one person in the village who was anything but complacent, and his name was Fan Sunan, though he hated being called by his full name and insisted on being called Sunan. He was ten years old, and he bristled with energy and curiosity. Of course, energy and curiosity are things most young boys possess, but they seemed to thrive without limit in young Sunan.
He was interested in anything and everything. He asked questions of everyone and wanted to learn all there was to learn. He liked to fight and wrestle, loved to climb trees, and adored horseback riding. Or perhaps it would be best to say donkeyback riding, as horses weren’t exactly common in the village.
He got bored easily when talking to people. However, that was not because he was easily distracted, though it seemed that way to some. Rather, his brain was in a constant state of motion. It never stopped. He never stopped. He thought and pondered and considered and mulled over everything constantly. He read the village records, something that few other people his age would ever think to do.
He did this because he wanted to know about the ancient legends. He wanted to hear the old stories.
Some young people yawned when the village elders spoke of how humans came from the tears shed by the Enlightened Goddess Xian Nu Shen, but when Sunan heard such things, his eyes glittered. He also devoured the scraps of stories about Hen-Shi and Gushan and legends such as that of Mount Zhizhu, the enormous mountain that held up the entire world.
Sunan was born into unique and momentous times. Roughly fifty years before his birth, the world had changed. A spectral palace had appeared in the depths of the Banyan Mountains. No one knew when exactly it appeared, because it was originally in a location few people ever traveled to. Eventually, armies poured out of that palace and began to conquer whatever cities lay in their path. The dynasty of that time, the Hen-Shi Dynasty, fought back, but years of complacency had made them weak.
That dynasty fell, and a new government took its place. The leader of this new government was
called the Demon Emperor, although few people had ever seen him. According to the stories which began to spread throughout Qi Xien, he was a twisted monster who had risen from the depths of Emo-Cheng, the underworld, and that all he wanted was to enslave the lands.
Sure enough, after wiping out the Hen-Shi Dynasty, the Demon Emperor’s armies began to spread out and inflict terror upon the populace.
Something else happened around the same time as the appearance of the Demon Emperor, although few people connected the two events. A new energy rose up in the land, which gave new power to plants, animals, and other living things. It even seemed to interfere with the previous barriers that existed with the spirit world.
Little of that chaos affected Sunan. In fact, the energy spread through the lands so slowly that it hadn’t even reached his village. It was a place of little consequence, nestled in a cove off of the Bay of Yu, a day’s travel from the great city of Qi Fao.
For years and years, the effects of the violence and terror did not affect the villagers. For decades, the armies of the Demon Emperor were mostly focused on the resistance in the south and west, and they had little time to pay attention to the insignificant northeastern frontier regions.
Because of that, Sunan was born into peaceful conditions and grew up only hearing about the horrific things that were happening farther south. Passing travelers told bloodcurdling tales that parents used to threaten their children into doing chores. Despite these stories, the villagers’ lives were not affected in any meaningful way.
However, when Sunan was a teenager, things began to change.
The Demon Emperor had subjugated the majority of the realm, and now he was turning his attention to those small places which he had ignored for so long. As his forces marched farther and farther north, more and more refugees began to seek shelter in the village.
Life changed.
The villagers finally began to feel their hearts thumping with fear.
The Demon Emperor had already defeated all the major forces that existed, and now he was headed their way.
There were rebels, of course, some of whom passed through the village and attempted to drum up support for their causes. Few villagers were impressed. Despite the lingering fear they felt, the Demon Emperor was still just a vague concept, a story, something frightening but amorphous.
The villagers were complacent.
Except for Sunan.
Whereas the village elders tended to look to the past and think about how stable things had been, Sunan was filled with a sensation of imminent change. All the stories of the fighting and wars filled his mind with thoughts of adventure. Although he never considered running away from home, he thirsted for action.
As chance would have it, one of the refugees who stayed in the village for a few months happened to be a retired soldier. It took some urging, but the soldier agreed to teach Sunan a few things about fighting.
When his parents found out, it caused a bit of a scene. It was dinnertime when one of Sunan’s young sisters piped up and said, “Sunan, did you learn anything from your master today?”
“Master?” his mother asked.
“Sunan is learning to fight people!” another sister declared.
“Is that so?” his father said, taking a sip of yellow wine.
Sunan’s jaw jutted out. “Shut up, sis, I don’t want to fight people. I just want to be able to defend myself.”
His mother smiled. “Sunan, you remember how your grandmother always quoted that saying of Kong Zhi? ‘Boys fight with fists, men fight with words.’”
Sunan rolled his eyes. “Mom, you just made that up, didn’t you? I was just reading a history scroll the other day that said Kong Zhi was a noble who knew how to fight. He could even ride a chariot! Why would he say something like that?”
“He became a philosopher long after that,” his mother replied primly, and then went on to change the subject.
Later that night, he and his father were outside looking at the stars.
“Son, I agree with your mother and your grandmother. But if you want to learn to fight, to be a soldier or a warrior, then… I support you.”
Sunan smiled. “Thanks, Dad.”
“Figure out what it is that you want to do in life, and do it. I’ll always be here to help you, no matter what.”
The next day, Sunan decided that his sister was right: He should call his teacher Master. They trained mornings and evenings, and Sunan absorbed his lessons like a dried-out sponge.
“Put your foot there, and there,” his master would say. “Remember, you’re young and small, but that can be an advantage. Use your opponent’s weight against him.”
They sparred and practiced to the point where Sunan could defeat him three times out of ten.
One summer night when Sunan was seventeen years of age, he woke up because of the heat. It was a strange thing, because he was used to the intense summer temperature, having lived with it his entire life.
His eyes were blurred by sweat, and it took a moment for him to realize that the heat was not from summer, but from fire. His bedroom was aflame!
He tumbled out of bed, bleary eyed, to face a wall of fire. Covering his face with his arm, he leapt out of the paper window into the night outside.
What met him was a scene from a nightmare.
The Demon Emperor’s armies had finally arrived. Soldiers were everywhere, laughing and slashing about with swords. Villagers who Sunan had known since birth were cut down in front of his very eyes.
He saw Third Uncle Fan kneeling on the ground, his intestines spilling out of his belly.
He saw Granny Chu’s head lopped off, causing blood to spray out like a fountain.
He saw the village chief’s throat being cut with a wickedly curved serrated blade.
He stood there in shock as a burly man began to stride toward him. He wore odd-looking leather armor emblazoned with a mark that looked like the face of a monster.
Sunan immediately cleared his mind. His master’s words echoed in his mind, and he quickly struggled up and placed his feet and hips in the correct position.
He’s bigger than me, thought Sunan, but if I’m careful, I can toss him to the ground like a sack of flour.
As the burly man neared, Sunan prepared. However, instead of lurching forward to attack, the man stopped about a meter away.
“What do you think you’re doing, kid?” he growled. “You’re gonna try to fight me?”
Sunan didn’t respond. Instead he extended his left hand in front of him and placed his right hand near his waist.
The burly soldier laughed and strode forward.
At the last moment, Sunan’s hand shot out toward the soldier’s hip. Then he twisted his waist and knee, only to find that it did nothing.
The soldier sneered, then reached out toward Sunan’s shoulder. He brushed his hand in a dismissive motion, and Sunan felt as if a tree had hit him. He flew backward through the air, flipping head over heels numerous times until he slammed into a wall, which collapsed over him.
Hours passed.
When Sunan awoke, what he first took to be the smell of roasted pork turned out to be the reek of burning flesh. Nothing remained of the village but ashes and blood. He found his parents decapitated. His master had been ripped limb from limb. He found one sister, and the realization of what had happened to her caused him to immediately vomit. As for his other two sisters, they were nowhere to be seen.
Eventually his mind went blank. He collapsed, weeping until there were no more tears left within him.
Finally, he fled, heading north toward the Huang Mountains, his heart filled with sorrow and terror. Time blurred, and eventually he took up residence in a cave.
The horrific memories that played over and over in his mind haunted him for weeks and months. In order to escape them, he began to travel, carefully making his way west through the mountains. Time had no meaning to him.
One day, he happened to be crossing a ravine via a fallen log when
the log snapped, and he fell, landing in a small pool of water below.
As soon as he splashed down into the water, he noticed that the water was different. It seemed to glow and sparkle in a way that was different from the water he was used to seeing in the well back in the village.
Sunan didn’t know it at the time, but because of the natural landscape of the area, this pool had become infused with the special energy that the Demon Emperor brought with him. When he took a sip of the water, the energy began to flow through his body, causing him to gasp.
The sensation was strange at first but also pleasant. Sunan quickly took another drink of water and felt more of the energy seep into him. Gradually, the weariness and aching in his bones and muscles began to fade away.
Sunan took up residence near the pond. Every day he would drink from the pond water and gather food from the surrounding forest.
One day, while sitting cross-legged on a stone outcropping, looking up at the stars in the sky, Sunan closed his eyes and focused inwardly. The pain and horror from the slaughter of his friends and family in the village was something that still haunted him, and he remembered reading about a way to deal with such feelings.
Back in the village, he had learned a bit about something called meditation. It was something the village elders usually practiced, something laughed at by the children, of course, who said it was just sleeping while sitting up.
According to what Sunan had been told, it was a way to calm the mind and heart, which was something he desperately needed to do.
Therefore, he closed his eyes and began to breathe in a set, rhythmic fashion. Slowly his mind emptied, and his heart grew calm. In that state of peace and quiet, Sunan became aware of something that seemed almost like a spark, burning deep inside his body. Curious, he focused his attention on the spark, prodding it with his mind. The spark responded, twitching, moving, almost as if it were alive, and yet not.
Fascinated, Sunan spent the rest of the night experimenting with the spark. He pushed it, pulled it, stretched it, and finally began to send it circulating into other parts of his body.