Mi Fei sighed. “It’s not your fault. Not really.” Their surroundings changed again, and they found themselves in a jungle surrounded by wolves. They felt so real to Wei Longshen.
“Why don’t we think happier thoughts?” Wei Longshen asked.
“Sure. Let’s stick to childhood memories,” Mi Fei said. The jungle faded to empty woodlands. They were in familiar lands now, with only a few demons in sight. As children, they ran around here all the time.
Still, not everything was the same. For one, there was a heaviness that hung about. A light mist and a gloomy sensation you couldn’t quite shake. And behind Mi Fei, Wei Longshen saw something that made his hair rise on end. Something dark and dreadful he couldn’t quite make out.
“Think happy thoughts,” Wei Longshen reminded Mi Fei. They weren’t here to get scared.
He hoped their surroundings would shift before she noticed the horror, but her eyes followed his, and she looked around. Before she could take it in, however, it vanished, appearing not far away from her but out of her sight all the same. She looked again, but this time, their surroundings went dark, and Wei Longshen realized they’d been separated.
“Mi Fei?” he called out, looking around. He was back in the woods again. “Mi Fei?”
No one answered him. The creature and Mi Fei had vanished to heavens knew where.
A shadow flickered out of the corner of Mi Fei’s eye. She looked around, but it wasn’t there. Still, she knew something was about, if only through that fuzzy, fearful feeling. It was the shadow—the creature from her nightmares. That was the only thing it could be. She couldn’t escape it no matter how hard she tried, even outside of her dreams.
This is an illusion, she told herself, but the lie wasn’t convincing enough. She could only accept that, even if the illusion was fake, the shadow as real. The first step, then, was to find the thing. If I can’t see it with soul or thought, I’ll try something else. She filled her surroundings with Grandmist, completely encasing the nearest hundred meters in a soft foam. The creature vanished before she struck, however, retreating deeper into the forest.
Oh, no, you don’t, Mi Fei thought. She was tired of running. Tired of being chased. She could catch this shadow and expose it for what it really was—a fraud. Whether a spirit or a ghost, or a parasitic demon, it was there. It was real. It was something.
She ran through the woods, and the figure flickered from tree to tree, shadow to shadow. No matter what she did, no matter how fast she traveled, it was always just out of her sight. I can control this place, she remembered. I can be faster here than in the real world. The trees blurred as she approached. The creature dove away in response. You think you’re so good at running? Fine. Let’s see you run somewhere even you won’t like.
Suddenly, they were in a world of crystals and ice and glass. A large light shone from above, filling the entire room in rainbow-colored patterns. The shadowy thing was exposed, though she couldn’t make out its features. It howled and thrashed, breaking crystals and mirrors before finally finding an exit and entering a dark cave.
You want darkness? Fine, I’ll show you darkness. She dug into one of the many memories she’d compartmentalized. Black sin flames erupted in the tunnel, filling it. The creature fled. She chased it, gleeful at their reversal in fortunes. But her laughter died on her lips when she saw the second shadow, not quite like the first.
No. It can’t be. But it was here. In this place only the person these memories belonged to knew. Was she chased by a shadow as well?
So she ran like her life depended on it. She ran like she had so long ago. The hell-born creature chased her through the tunnels, never quite catching up, lingering at the edge of her vision. The other shadow was forgotten, and all that preoccupied her was this one, the shadow that hunted her across lifetimes. I can control this place, she reminded herself, and the vision flickered. She found herself in a different kind of darkness.
She was now in the depths of the inky sea. She couldn’t see the shadow, but then again, she couldn’t see anything. But she did become distinctly aware of darker things beneath the depths. A globe of light appeared, illuminating their surroundings. There, in the darkness, she saw a sea of monsters. So terrible. So surreal. And the worst part was that she’d seen them before. In another life. Another place.
Fear invaded her mind. Memories invaded her soul. Mi Fei? What’s happening? Hold on! It was Xiao Bai, but she was so far away. So distant.
I can’t win. I can’t escape. Mi Fei moaned. Exhausted, overwhelmed, she curled up into a ball, helpless as a dark figure approached her and reached for her shoulder. Was it all over? Had it finally caught up to her? This time, she wasn’t dreaming. Death was no longer an option.
“Where is she?” Wei Longshen yelled. “Where has she gone?” He ran and looked around but couldn’t see her anywhere. He ran and ran, and the landscape changed. It flickered to a setting of eery woodlands, and he saw her running in the distance. “Mi Fei!” he yelled.
But she didn’t hear him. She kept running farther and farther away. A shadow chased her, and she couldn’t outrun it no matter what she did.
She disappeared instead, and the landscape shifted. They were suddenly in a bright place. Somewhere his mind couldn’t comprehend. Everywhere he looked were people with jade wings. Hers were gray, however. She wore eight pairs. She looked strong, but she didn’t hesitate to flee when suddenly, the party they were attending erupted in bloodshed, and treachery struck even these angelic beings.
Suddenly, they were down in the deepest of abysses. Seven dark doorways led progressively deeper into a land of sin. They weren’t traditional arches but gaping holes in the ground that separated entire worlds.
These are the Seven Hellish Doorways, Wei Longshen realized, and from within each one appeared a dark monarch. Mi Fei was in the center of this terrible place, surrounded by dark specters.
She wept. She trembled. She shifted, and he could do nothing for her. Then he remembered where they were. “Light show end!” he yelled and braced himself for their exit. Yet no light came to fill the darkness and chase away the devils that nipped at Mi Fei’s torn and tattered robes. “Light show end, damn you! Light show end!” The illusion didn’t change, and Wei Longshen, not knowing what else to do, brought his flute to his mouth.
He played a high-pitched note that caused his surroundings to tremble. A mirror shattered, then another. He adjusted the sound, matching the resonant frequency in the transparent sheets of metal-coated glass. Several hundred mirrors shattered then, abruptly ending the illusion, revealing a cut and bruised Mi Fei surrounded by mirror shards.
Lady Iridescent Weave exited a small room, coughing and gagging. Smoke was rising from inside the intricate runic arrays inside. She didn’t seem overly concerned that all her expensive mirrors were shattered but more concerned about something else. She pressed a rune, and a small child appeared, comatose and transparent. “Sparky?” she said.
“What happened?” the childlike custodian groaned.
Wei Longshen trudged through the broken glass toward the figure on the floor. He placed his hand on her trembling shoulder. She flinched when he did but relaxed soon after. “There, there, now,” he said. “Everything will be all right.” He hugged her as she sniffled on the ground, ignoring the broken glass that bit into his knees as he consoled and reassured her.
“I thought I specifically said nothing scary,” Wei Longshen said to Lady Iridescent Weave, not bothering to hide his fury. The woman, finally noticing him, walked over and bowed in apology.
“I’m extremely sorry, my lord,” she said. “There was a malfunction. I don’t know what happened, but suddenly the custodian was overwhelmed. One minute, I was channeling my dominion and iridescent flames into the console, trying to give you both a happy adventure, and suddenly I couldn’t see anything. Then I heard screams, and I heard you wanting to leave, and I tried to end it, but couldn’t.
“I came down as soon as I could and tried
to shut it down manually, but the artifice controlling all the mirrors was melting. It was overheating. I’ve… I’m sorry, I’ve never seen anything like it. In fact, the custodian controlling the entire House of Mirrors was not functioning. I…” She gulped. “I’m not sure how I’ll be able to reopen. It took me years to build it in the first place.”
“We’re leaving,” Wei Longshen said. He picked Mi Fei up off the ground and led her away. There were bloody scratches on her hands and arms. To his dismay, they weren’t glass cuts, but clawlike scratches. How had she gotten them? He fished through his storage ring and found a healing potion, then dribbled it onto her wounds. It soaked into her skin, healing the cuts over in an instant.
“Sir, the mirrors…” Lady Iridescent Weave said.
Wei Longshen turned around and gave her the most intimidating glare he’d likely ever given anyone. “Say another word, and I will ruin you. I will make sure you can never step foot inside this city ever again. We will settle this, but for now, we are leaving.”
Then he turned around and left, paying no heed to the cursing, the breaking glass, or the burst of multicolored flames that followed. He simply didn’t care. This place had hurt her, and they should pay.
He ushered Mi Fei through the hallway and into the stairwell, where people were filing out of every floor, confused. The House of Mirrors wasn’t functioning, and more than one person was complaining and wondering how to go about getting a refund.
Was it her nightmares that did it? Wei Longshen wondered as he led her out onto the street. His personal driver picked them up. He wasn’t the sort to ask questions. He did, however, stop somewhere to fetch them something warm and sweet.
Wei Longshen thanked the sensible man and started feeding hot chocolate cake to Mi Fei, who was still a bit despondent. Her cheeks regained a bit of color, and soon she was able to compose herself.
“Well, then,” Mi Fei finally said. “That’s one adventure I could do without reliving a second time.”
“I don’t think we’d be able to,” Wei Longshen said. “It seems that whatever happened will put that place out of business.” He wondered what it could have been. Artifices that could support custodians were usually exceedingly stable and even capable of repairing themselves.
“Sir, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but…” their driver said.
Wei Longshen frowned. “Can it wait?”
“I’m afraid not,” the driver said. “Please check your communicator.”
Wei Longshen did so and saw he’d missed many transmission requests. He sighed, activated the device, and the figure of a man appeared. It was his great uncle, Elder Wei Yimu.
“Longshen, my boy,” he said. “Some bad news.”
“Can it wait?” Wei Longshen asked. Wei Yimu’s eyes flickered to the pale-looking Mi Fei, and he shook his head regretfully.
“The sect leader of the Sisters of Solemn Flame was found dead just a few minutes ago,” Wei Yimu said. “We’ve managed to contain the news thus far, but it’s difficult.”
Wei Longshen frowned. “They just joined us this morning.”
“Yes,” Wei Yimu said, “which is what makes this look so bad.”
“How did it happen?” Wei Longshen asked.
“We found a knife in her chest and a nice little note,” Wei Yimu said. “The message was pretty clear. I’m sure you can guess it.”
Wei Longshen sighed. “I was hoping they wouldn’t be so direct.”
“Your instructions?” Wei Yimu said.
Wei Longshen thought for a long minute before replying. Too little compensation, and it would seem a superficial apology. Too much, and it would look like they were covering something up. “Offer to adopt whoever wishes into our clan,” he finally said. “I’ll speak to their revenant and express my condolences. Hopefully there won’t be any misunderstandings.”
“Do you need some time?” Wei Yimu asked.
Wei Longshen looked to Mi Fei. Her eyes were still blotchy. “I’ll be fine,” she said. “You’ve been busy these days.”
“Give me a couple of hours,” Wei Longshen said to Wei Yimu, then ended the call. He sat back in his seat and laid his head back and sighed. “The day started off so nicely.”
“It happens,” Mi Fei said. “The good days don’t always last.”
Wei Longshen opened his eyes and looked over. She was turned away from him. He leaned over and hugged her from behind.
“Sorry,” Wei Longshen said.
“About what?” Mi Fei asked.
“Well, this was all my idea,” Wei Longshen said. “Rotten luck or not, I bear some level of responsibility.” Then he simply held her, and though she said nothing, he felt her relax and her breathing even out. Even after an hour and a bit of food, she was still shaking. Still afraid. This lasted until they got back to the Mi Clan estate.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can to check up on you,” Wei Longshen said. “But I really need to go.”
“Like I said, don’t worry about me,” Mi Fei replied.
“How can I not?” Wei Longshen said. Then his driver sped off, no longer burdened with a sensitive passenger and now able to flout some rules to get them back quicker.
Now let’s see what pile of dung I’ve stepped into now, Wei Longshen thought as they headed back to the Wei Clan estate. Had they overstepped themselves? Was this retaliation for their quick growth, or was it a personal vendetta? Regardless of the reason, people would be talking.
Chapter 6: Plans
Huxian hated war. Not just because of the smells, the fire, the metal, and the blood. Those things were terrible, yes, and there was something about sloshing about in slick warm blood that caused his stomach to churn. Yes, he was a demon, and yes, he was an initiate. But that didn’t mean things like this didn’t get to him.
Unfortunately, initiation was a heavy burden. He was a champion of nature, and more often than not, defending it involved violence. He’d known what he was signing up for, but after two months of constant warfare, it was taking its toll on him. Not physically, but mentally.
It manifested in his appearance. He’d long abandoned the look of a thirteen-year-old boy. Now, he resembled more a sixteen- to eighteen-year-old man. By human standards, that meant he was barely old enough to make his own decisions and more than old enough to go to war.
“Stupid change,” Huxian muttered. “Stupid human forms.” Unlike his fox form, which he could change at will, they were difficult to manipulate.
And then there was all the suffering. Not far away, a man looking just as young as he did fell to one of Silverwing’s blades. Another, older man fell from Huxian’s own large shuriken before he could stab Silverwing in the back. And in that time, many more died, not because they were threats, but because they were merely in the way. He cringed as one of his shuriken blades pierced into the chest of an armored demigod, leaving a gaping hole of warped spatial energy where there should have been a heart. He collapsed to the ground just as easily as the youngster had. And just like the young man’s prior death, it added to the thousands that ravaged Huxian’s fused body and soul. It changed him. Warped him. Aged him.
“Humans,” Silverwing said, wiping the slick off his silver sword by flicking it in the air. It left a short trail of blood that immediately mixed into the redness of the battlefield. “They always send the weak ones first. Do they like dying or something?”
“They know nothing of honor,” Huxian said, and when did, he remembered. He remembered another war just like this one. A wave of humans charging into demon territory as they always did. Then another. Then another. Thousands of wars flashed in his mind.
Yet before he could curse the humans and their tendencies, he saw other flashes. Other memories. He saw tides of demons bringing down tall walls, eventually overwhelming them. He saw cities fall, and the inevitable encroachment of demon lands into human ones. In many ways, they were different, but in this way, they were the same.
“Don’t forget, Silverwing—we
often do the same. We unleash hordes from our forests when our numbers become unsustainable, and sometimes they manage to overtake and overwhelm human territories. Then our forests grow.”
“But where’s the fairness?” Lei Jiang asked, appearing beside his brothers. He still resembled a youth, and Huxian wondered if war would ever have any effect on him. Huxian hoped it wouldn’t. “They’re just throwing bodies at us to slow us down. Why not just send their champions up and duke it out?”
More memories surfaced in Huxian’s mind. This wasn’t the first time someone had asked this question. Millions of demons had asked the same. “Resources, obviously,” Huxian said. “Usually not for the old, but for the young. They want the demon lands for the same reason we want to encroach on their farmlands.” Then he gazed out at the battlefield. His eyes saw not only the present, but things as they soon would be. They weren’t alone on this battlefield, and the situation was fluid. He spotted an inflection point in the pattern and pointed. “If you want a fight with champions, that’s where we’ll find it.”
“Let’s do it!” Lei Jiang yelled. He charged, forcing Huxian and Silverwing to chase after him. Their charge surprised the humans. Five late-grade cultivators had just arrived in this position with an escort of fifty other lesser cultivators. They barely had time to react as Huxian, cloaked in space, flickered through the front lines and into the back ones. He ignored the demigods and went straight for the squishy Daoists. It was exactly the wrong decision to make. Or it would have been for a lesser demon.
As Huxian arrived, the Daoist sprung his trap. His domain coiled around him like a serpent. Yet with a single stab from one of Huxian’s four blades, the man’s domain broke and fizzled. The power of time torched it away, enabling Huxian to slash his throat, only to slip away as a mace came crashing down.
He then teleported to the other side of the mace wielder and stuck two daggers into his back. The man, a Dao God, let out an angry yell as he turned around, smashing his weapon into Huxian’s chest with surprising speed. He smelled of fire and brimstone, and the air around Huxian began to burn. It ate away at his skin and singed his hair.
Claddings of Light : Book 12 of Painting the Mists Page 9