Five Kingdoms

by T. A. Miles

  “Very near to your age, boy,” Tarfan continued. “A child prodigy. He’d already accomplished what some men require a lifetime to achieve.”

  Tristus was not surprised by that, not nearly so much as he had been upon learning how young Alere was, and how much responsibility the elf had taken upon himself. Considering the amount of years Shirisae had to her—and that she had had to grow into her family duty—it was nearly shocking. The lifespans and the lifestyles of elves did not seem to require of them to accomplish tremendous feats of living before even their first century. But Alere was just twenty, and, according to him, he might not have a full century to his youth, as other elves did. The Verressi elves were fewer since being slaughtered wholesale by the keirveshen, and their lives were not granted to be as long as many of their kin. Tristus supposed, for that reason, that he should refrain from holding Alere to his apparent youth. He was the acting lord of his house, and a years-experienced soldier and hunter. In actuality, it was Tristus who had accomplished the least with his time in the relative order of things.

  Well, that was not entirely accurate. He’d accomplished a good deal, but much of it had been nothing that he preferred to dwell on.

  “What do you think it will be like in Sheng Fan?” Tristus decided to ask his companions, largely in order to avoid allowing his thoughts to take him down a darker route than he wanted to travel before sleeping.

  “Like anyplace else,” came the voice of the occupant above Tristus’ bunk. “But with different people living there.”

  Tristus could only smile at Alere when he spoke in such a manner. “That was not very romantic.”

  “It wasn’t meant to be,” the elf replied, as if there had been no humor at all in Tristus’ comment.

  It was an endearing quality of Alere’s, and Tristus couldn’t help that he laughed.

  Whether or not he could help it, Tarfan seemed to have no interest in withholding his own laughter. It was to the sound of the old dwarf’s chortling that Tristus eventually drifted to sleep.

  Xu Liang entered the corridor of jade fire that had rimmed his consciousness since Vilciel. It was the passage to which all doors seemed to lead and within which he feared becoming eternally lost.

  “Do not fear the memories that haunt you now,” the voice of Ahjenta said, the memory of her words trailing him across the threshold of dreams. “For they are things you have already seen and events you have already overcome.”

  In the process of recalling her advice, the familiar form of Xiadao Lu charged toward him through the corridor. The rogue’s phantom raised his pole-axe to strike, and Xu Liang stepped to the side of his assault.

  He felt the brush of lingering trauma that was the ghost’s substance in his mind. It raked hot across his shoulder, reminding him of the wound that had been the first of many assaults that would test the defenses of his spirit. It had struggled for many years to preserve the walls of its physical vessel. They would crumble, and he would pass to the Realm of the Sky, to be guided by the lights of the Celestial Dragons into the shelter and wisdom of the Jade Emperor’s sphere…or he would be pulled down into the Infernal Regions by shadow.

  His hand went to his shoulder, as if he might hold the damage intact and prevent the escape of his spirit from his body. Except, his spirit was in motion now, while his body lay beneath the pinning hands of slumber. Since Vilciel, he had been overly aware of this, and by now he had willed himself to turn back…to return to his body and wake to his earthly existence for at least another day. He could not die before returning to Sheng Fan. He would not allow it.

  The thought was defiance against the Master. But was it not the Jade Emperor who had bestowed knowledge upon him, even above others? To be guided in astralmancy was to be given access to aspects of heaven. Only the Jade Emperor could pass such awareness to a man.

  “But you turned from the path,” someone said to Xu Liang. “You denied teaching, and carved a path of your own. You must wonder now whether it was a path to ruin.”

  Xu Liang looked ahead, to a pair of red doors set in a stone frame, flanked at either side by statues of lions. The beasts had their clawed hands resting protectively on large spheres that represented the endless consciousness of the Jade Emperor, with no beginning and no end. The lions themselves were protectors of His wisdom.

  Xu Liang stepped toward them, observing the manner in which the flame of his nightmare corridor danced over the amber globes, creating swirling clouds of color. His gaze was then drawn to the stone relief above the door, where images of clouds and spirits were carved, all of them flowing toward the calmly seated depiction of the Jade Emperor at its center.

  The Temple of Divine Tranquility…the Jade Hall. Its presence here seemed almost a mockery, but he knew that it was a form of portents.

  “You are not easily led astray, even by your own logic.”

  A man appeared on the wide steps fronting the door. His robes were predominantly green with embroidery of eagles and peonies, the beast spirit who perched upon the arm of the Jade Emperor, a messenger between Him and His servant Cheng Yu…and the flower created for His beloved daughter Mei Qiao. The pattern was a familiar one among scholars of Sheng Fan, and particularly favored by the mystic Che Wen Tai.

  Xu Liang recognized him. His own command over the spirit had once drawn the attention of the Seven Mystics, particularly the most ancient and revered among them. The Supreme Astralmancer had once suggested that Xu Liang might study under him, but Xu Liang had declined, favoring the winds. To become an astralmancer was to begin a labor that would have taken him from the court more frequently than his studies of the outer realms. Instead, he had taken up a private study of only the aspects that came readily to him. He knew that he would never know his true potential in astralmancy, but in aeromancy, he had excelled. It seemed to be the favored choice of his ancestors, one which challenged his mind, body, and spirit, but that served his heart in allowing him to serve the Empire as Imperial Tactician.

  It is a selfish journey, that of the heart, lacking sense and reason.

  He did wonder at times if he had chosen wrongly.

  The ancient mystic, whose silver-white hair flowed both down his back in a braided tail and from his chin in the form of a beard of impressive length, nodded in response to Xu Liang’s thoughts. “A humble child questions,” Che Wen Tai said. “A defiant child boasts assurance.”

  Xu Liang bowed respectfully to the elder and his words. He proceeded to wonder whether or not this meeting was entirely memory, or if the astralmancer had projected his spirit upon this plane.

  Che Wen Tai gave no indication with his following words. “You have walked the path of a prodigy. The Jade Emperor Himself took the hand of a child of Du and led him to the great palaces of the Empire.”

  That was not right. “It is not I who have been guided directly by the Heavens.”

  “Could you not have been?” the ancient continued. “Would your ascent be anymore blasphemous than that of the Song? Were they not the opportunists, who seized power from the blood spilled by betrayers of the Mandate?”

  While the Supreme Astralmancer spoke, the steps of the Temple of Divine Tranquility ran with blood. Thick streams of red channeled around the edges of the elder’s robes, falling between the path the lions protected and toward Xu Liang.

  “Who are the wolves, Xu Liang?” Che Wen Tai asked him. “And who are the vultures?”

  Xu Liang was not able to answer before the Flame of the Phoenix rained down upon the temple door, engulfing the steps and the lions, and the mystic standing with them.

  Returning to consciousness brought him back to his bed aboard the Pride of Celestia. His fingers gripped the bedding, looking thin and pale. Cold perspiration made the sheet feel thick in his palm. As he relaxed his hold, his gaze followed the swaths of light slanting into the cabin through the small window. At the edge of the moon’s light rested Pea
rl Moon, a soft arc of blue radiating above where it lay in its scabbard on a low bench.

  Once again, the words of Ahjenta drifted to the front of his consciousness. “In the war against the shadows, most are taken by darkness, one way or another. Those who shine above it act as beacons to those still fighting, a guide and a source of hope in these chaotic times.”

  Landfall

  Scrimm’s Harbor was a town of moderate spread and little density. The abodes of a small population peppered the dramatically sloped landscape. They were comprised of short stone houses with thatch roofs, elongated workshops or stables built to the side of snow-blanketed courtyards, and an abundance of domesticated herd animals flocked within low walls. They were accommodated by food left out in bundles or within troughs, though some still attempted to graze over patches of what may have been a sudden and brief spring cropping up through the winter’s leavings. Many of the docile creatures that had been brought to the waterside marketplace were sheep and goats. Some wooly yaks were also present. All of the beasts contributed their share of bleating to the collection of sounds in the air, which also included the creaks of mooring ships, the hollers of deckhands competing with the pitches of sellers of various wares, and local bells communicating whatever it may have been relevant to communicate on a partly clouded morning along the coast of Aer.

  Xu Liang once again thanked Yvain for her assistance and her skill at delivering him and his company across the sea. He again conveyed appreciation on behalf of the Empress for the recovery and return of the Cai Shi-meng scrolls. And, once more, he said goodbye to one who had been an ally to Sheng Fan without stipulation beyond the reasonable compensation owed for the use of her time and her vessel. Where time was concerned, he believed she had granted them more than what had been paid for. Xu Liang offered her a larger sum from the remains of the coins he had brought for expenses, but Yvain refused, stating that she would be satisfied to have Fu Ran once again returned. That was not entirely within Xu Liang’s power to deliver, but he promised that he would do his best to see that Fu Ran’s path back to the Pride of Celestia was secured.

  Innocent of the exchange between his captain and his former master, Fu Ran took up the role as their guide, through a land that Xu Liang was not a stranger to, but that he would not consider himself familiar with. As in the west, he would have had to take time to consult his maps. Fortunately, they had been stored in packs that had not been lost to the harrowing events of the Southern Flatlands. It was regrettable to have left Sheng Fan with imperial horses and equipment and to have lost the majority of it. As well, the hazards of the western continents had claimed the lives of Fanese men—three guards and one officer, if Xu Liang included himself. In some ways, he did.

  All of the losses the group suffered had been for the sake of the Empire, save for one. The death of Bastien Crowe had been for the gypsy’s commitment to what Alere had described as a sect of men dedicated to the study of magical artifacts. The elf admitted that he did not know enough about the group to detail its purpose beyond that essential idea. He had only been relaying what he’d learned from Fu Ran’s former shipmate; that the group existed, claimed interest in magical items capable of having what they believed to be significant impact on the world, and that it was through their interest that Vorhaven had come to be in possession of the Night Blade. Regardless of their or of Bastien Crowe’s interests, the Night Blade was in the hands of westerners no longer. Xu Liang believed that events had proved that it was not intended to be and that the best hope of mastering the weapon lay with the young guard who had retrieved it, who had immediately used it to defend the bearers of its sibling Blades.

  It was Guang Ci, along with Taya and Alere who accompanied Xu Liang on a search for supplies to be purchased for at least the start of their journey inland. Xu Liang hoped that they would find adequate offerings to carry them through Aer and some distance into Sheng Fan. Their funds were dramatically depleted. Much had been spent at the start of the quest, months ago. Some had been lost to circumstances such as the scattering that the ice giant had inspired. The loss of the supplies marked an expenditure wasted, since now they had to recoup some of what was lost. Fortunately, the Phoenix Elves had provided beyond what Xu Liang would have been able to pay for outside of Sheng Fan. The cost of so many horses, along with the mending that had been done to weapons and clothing, plus the carry-able food and shelter they had left Vilciel with exceeded the value of a small coffer’s worth of Fanese coins. The coffer itself had been lost in the Flatlands besides. Xu Liang’s purse had less currency and only a few tokens of value otherwise.

  Two small dragon carvings, of a soft and precious blue stone had been brought as barter tokens on the chance that Fanese coins would be unwelcome—though not many balked at either gold or silver, regardless of its origins. One of the dragons had gone to Yvain, an unspoken exchange for the Cai Shi-meng scrolls. The other Xu Liang had intended to give to the Fairwinds. That was before they had decided to journey this far. He would send them home with some other artifact as payment for their services and devotion when the time presented itself.

  For now, Xu Liang felt that he had enough to pay for what they would find at the harbor. He would have preferred a Fanese-style tent, as the Phoenix Elves had ceased to be travelers of any great distance for some time, and had no such provisions to offer. The shelter they left Vilciel with was sufficient against mild weather. It had been a struggle in the extreme wind and cold of Upper Yvaria with no room for sufficient warmth beyond what body heat offered within each of the smaller tents. Among Xu Liang’s supplies from home had been not only a larger tent with room for several individuals, but there had also been a small burner and lanterns, a sack of grain, and bows for hunting. They had inherited Alere’s bow and his hunting skills, but there were nearly a dozen bodies to feed, for several days more.

  “What about this?”

  The question came from Taya, who reached up to pat a sack resting on top of a pile of others that were identical to it in texture and in the mount of contents packed within. One lay open beside the pile, displaying the large, sharp-appearing grains that were presumably within all of them. Xu Liang scooped a small amount into his fingers to examine them.

  “They look like oats,” Taya determined, peering into Xu Liang’s hand, which he held down at dwarf eye level for her benefit.

  “Yes,” he agreed. “We’ve nearly run out of the grains supplied to us by the Phoenix Elves.”

  “I hope these taste sweeter than elvish grains,” Taya said, making a face of minor complaint. “The food tasted much better cooked at Vilciel than it does over a campfire.”

  “I suspect that is because we’re ignorant of the preferred methods and recipes,” Xu Liang replied.

  “And spices,” the young dwarf added.

  Xu Liang smiled at her. “You will find many spices to sample in Sheng Fan,” he assured her. “Perhaps you will enjoy my herb garden.”

  Taya’s face lit. “Fanese medicine! I can barely wait.”

  Alere arrived beside them just at that moment. “I’ve found a pack beast available for sale,” the elf announced. He said next, “I’ve not enough in my purse to pay for it.”

  Xu Liang had not expected Alere to offer any payment, but of course, the elf would not have gone into the wilds without some means of compensation for any goods or services travel tended to insist upon. He suspected now that others may also have had some funds available. In his intent to pay for his own expedition, he’d overlooked that it was no longer his alone.

  “How much is it for a simple pony?” Taya wanted to know.

  “It isn’t a pony, small one,” Alere said to her.

  Before she could do more than protest in expression at the title Alere had bestowed upon her, Xu Liang asked, “What is it?”

  “It’s a yak,” the elf replied. “The owner assures that the animal is bred for both the weather and for travel over mou
ntain terrain. It would hold all of our supplies and alleviate some of the burden on our mounts, for those of us carrying an excess of items.”

  Alere’s mare was not among them, since it was preferable to keep their scout free of such restriction. Xu Liang appreciated the elf’s interest in what benefited the company as a whole, and he would trust Alere’s answer to his ensuing question.

  “Does it seem a viable purchase?”

  Alere nodded. “It does.”

  Xu Liang dropped the grain in his hand and reached into his robes, bringing forward the small embroidered pouch tied to his belt. Discreetly, he turned toward Alere and took the dragon statuette from the purse, setting it into the elf’s pale hand. “See if the owner will bargain. If not, perhaps we can collect from the others to satisfy the price.”

  Alere frowned at the item in his hand. In its way, that frown seemed to indicate that the elf was somewhat taken with the piece. So much so, that he appeared to want to return it to Xu Liang, as if something personal were being surrendered.

  Xu Liang assured him that it was not. “I brought it for such an occasion as this, Alere.”

  Once more, the elf nodded. His slim white fingers folded over the statuette, and he disappeared into the market crowd.

  Xu Liang turned to Taya next. “We’ll purchase some of this grain. Afterward, we’ll seek some herbs and vegetables.”

  Taya agreed with that plan, and the grain was purchased. The sack was taken by Guang Ci, who carried it over his shoulder while Xu Liang proceeded through the marketplace with Taya.

  “I long for home,” Guang Ci said when Taya stopped to barter with coins Xu Liang had passed to her for an assortment of vegetables that would travel reasonably.

  “As do I,” Xu Liang assured the younger man. “We are nearly there, Guang Ci.”

  The words were accepted in silence.

  Xu Liang allowed only a space of that silence before asking, “Do you regret having partaken of this journey?”