Lian’s eyes grew wide. “I remember this! Holy Mother Jia taught us the Seven Virtues of the Dragon!” Lian crawled off my lap and stood in front me with her hands behind her back. She bit her lower lip, screwed her face up in concentration, and began to recite, “The Seven Virtues of the Dragon are...For their armor, the Emperor of Heaven dipped their scales in the Lake of Righteousness. In their eyes, He kindled the Light of Wisdom. He sharpened their claws on the Rock of Justice and honed their teeth on the Anvil of Fortitude. He fashioned their wings from the Silk of Faith and Gossamer of Hope. The greatest gift of all, He bestowed the Gift of Truth, a flaming sword with which to smite the enemies of Heaven.”
“Very good! Very good!” I clapped, genuinely pleased.
She beamed and crawled back on my lap.
“Holy Mother Jia taught you well. Did she also teach you about the Two Dragons?”
Lian looked up at me, confused. “No, Lord Fu Xi.”
The Chronicle of Fu Xi
***
They never talked of the Ice Men after he returned from the icelands. She never asked and he never offered. The pain still burned so he buried it, seeking diversion in other journeys, other quests.
Fu Xi gazed into his tea cup and fiddled with a chopstick. “I thought I could teach them as I had done with the Tall Men.”
“Do you recall how I counseled against it?”
“Yes, Mother. And I went anyway.”
“Before that illfated journey and since, have you ever undertaken a quest that I had not sent you on?”
“No, Mother. I have submitted myself to your wisdom and guidance. I am your humble servant.”
She suddenly threw her head back and laughed. Fu Xi’s eyes grew wide in surprise.
“Dear Fu Xi, there is nothing humble about you.” Large teardrops formed and rolled down her cheeks. “However, you are humble enough to gain Heaven’s favor, and for that I am eternally thankful.”
The tears turned to sobs as she buried her head in her hands and leaned over the table. Lightning flashed outside, followed by peals of thunder.
Since the day he emerged from her womb, he never witnessed his mother cry, let alone laugh. Astonished, he walked on his knees around the table and held her in his arms. He had never had to console her, even after the passing of her husbands. Now, he didn’t know what else to do. She surrendered to her son’s embrace.
The thunder became sharper and closer. Rain began to pound on the roof.
“I heard their screams!” she moaned into his shoulder. “I could not save them.”
The wind began to howl. Fu Xi looked around at the shuddering hut. He didn’t know what he feared most, the hut flying apart or the sight of the once proud goddess in tears. He pulled away and stroked her wet cheek.
“Shhh...shhh...Mother, it’s all right. It’s all right. Please.” He lifted the tea cup to her lips. She took a sip and calmed down. The rain and the wind ceased.
“Why couldn’t you save them?” he pressed.
She looked upon him with such sweet sadness Fu Xi thought his heart would break. “By the command of the Celestial Emperor himself.”
Fu Xi felt as if his heart stopped. He couldn’t speak as his mother continued.
“You went to the northlands because of your pride, didn’t you? No good can come from pride, especially the pride of a god.
“I allowed the Ice Men into my valley. I had no choice.”
Fu Xi recoiled and shook his head.
Nuwa’s face darkened. “They paid the price for my sin.”
Fu Xi found his voice. “What sin? You are Nuwa, Celestial Goddess of the West. You are perfect!”
She shook her head, tears threatening to break through again “You, my son, are my sin. The price of forgiveness is always blood.”
***
“I will have a talk with Holy Mother Jia if she isn’t teaching you children about the Two Dragons.” I stroked my chin with a very serious expression.
“Oh, she did! She did, Lord Fu Xi! Please, do not scold her. She is a very good teacher. But, please, tell me again.”
I knew Lian was stalling, but I wanted to put her at ease.
“Yes, I know Mother Jia is a good teacher, but I will tell you again. The Celestial Emperor bestowed his earthly children, both dragons and Tall Men, with the Spirit and the Flesh. These are the Two Dragons. The Flesh is our earthly shell and the Spirit is our soul...”
“Man is the Flesh and Spirit is the woman,” Lian blurted out.
“I thought you didn’t know about this,” I chided.
Lian looked up at the Threshold Dragon and then at Mother resting on the bench. “I’m sorry. Please, go on, Lord Fu Xi.”
“When we abide in the Seven Virtues, the Two Dragons are in balance,” I continued. “That is when we are happiest and at peace; with ourselves, with one another, and with the Emperor of Heaven. Balance is harmony. When they are out of balance, there is only strife and conflict. There is not only the balance within each of us, but the balance in the world around us.
“Mother calls dragons the First Race. Before Tall Men walked the earth, dragons were the beloved children of the Emperor of Heaven. ‘Bring the world into balance. Tame it that I might plant a garden and bring forth other children into the world,’ he told the dragons. Armed with the powers of Spirit and Flesh and the Seven Virtues, they subdued the giants of Chaos and Creation and their powerful spirits sank into the earth and became fire, rock and ice. Throughout the world, the Two Dragons were brought into balance.”
“Where did the dragons go?” Lian asked.
“I don’t know,” I said with a hint of sadness. “I have not seen one in many years.”
“Are the Two Dragons still in balance, Lord Fu Xi?” she asked.
Before I could answer, the wind suddenly rose behind us, cold and strong. I turned and saw Mother standing behind us, the setting sun blazing around her. Her robes fluttered in the wind like beating wings and her gray hair caught the sunlight like a golden mane.
In times like this, the gulf between us became clear. I am an earthly creature bestowed with eternal life. Mother was a goddess cloaked in borrowed flesh. She pressed through the thin membrane separating this world from the next, occasionally giving me a glimpse of what lay beyond.
Lian wrapped her arms around my neck and buried herself against my chest. Nuwa’s voice rose above the wind, deep and resounding against the mountainside.
“After the dragons defeated the giants, the Emperor of Heaven did as he promised. He planted his garden, the Place of Perfect Happiness, at the center of the four rivers. In it, he created a new race. He didn’t bestow upon them any of the virtues he granted the First Race. He gave them only one gift, a piece of his living spirit — the gift of Love. The dragons understood this was the most precious gift of all and mourned for what they could not have. Without love, all of their gifts were hollow. The dragons retreated to the remote places of the world and wept.
“Then, Lu Xi Fu, the Corruptor, made a bargain with the dragons. ‘Lend me your form, that I might go to the Place of Perfect Happiness and bring back the gift of Love and once again you will be the most favored of Heaven.’ The dragons agreed and granted the Deceiver the shape of the Black Spirit Dragon. He entered The Place of Perfect Happiness and deceived the new race into eating from the Tree of Knowledge. In doing so, Lu Xi Fu brought both races bitter anguish. Lu Xi Fu laughed and kept the form of the Black Dragon as his own.”
The wind died and Mother’s robes settled. She seemed to hunch and shrink as the sun disappeared behind a wisp of cloud.
“Since that dark day,” she continued with her old voice, “the world has been out of balance. Men possess Love without Virtue, and the dragon Virtue without Love. The Two Dragons, the Spirit and the Flesh, are in conflict and the world is at war with itself.”
Lian relaxed and looked at me as if she needed me to confirm what the goddess had just spoken.
“The goddess and I must bring the wor
ld into balance,” I said and gently put her off my lap. “This time, however, we do so through the race of men. We must lead them on the road to redemption, and in turn, bring the Two Dragons into balance. Only then may we hope to gain our Heavenly Emperor’s favor. You, child, have an honored role to play.”
Lian looked up at the Threshold Dragon and then to me. She whispered, hoping Mother wouldn’t hear her. “Lord Fu Xi, I am afraid.”
“Come, child,” Nuwa said without her usual coldness. “I am rested. Let us finish our journey. The only way home is forward and we have but only a little way to go.”
Under the dragon’s gaze, we held Lian’s hands and slowly climbed the last stretch of Silver Stairs.
The Chronicle of Fu Xi
***
“I don’t understand. How can I be a ‘sin’? I am your faithful and obedient son.” Fu Xi searched his mother’s eyes for understanding.
“You are an obedient son.” Nuwa’s soft voice accompanied a resigned expression. “The sin was mine, but its costs will be paid for by mortal generations to come...and by you. The nature of this sin has been laid before you; you only need to open your eyes.”
“The lateness of the hour and the stench of blood in my nostrils have made me weary of your riddles, Mother!”
“No riddles. You carry many questions for me from distant lands. Tell me of your journey, and in the telling, you will find your answers.” She paused for a moment. “This quest was unlike any other, wasn’t it?”
Fu Xi stood and turned his back to her.
“In the past, you always sent me into the world to enlighten the Tall Men. This time, you sent me to find dragons. That alone made this journey different.”
“And in this you were unsuccessful?”
“The mountains and glaciers are empty, the roar of the mighty bulls are gone. The glitter of gossamer wings no longer graces the sunset. The First Race is extinct.”
Nuwa raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.
He turned and narrowed his eyes on his mother. “You knew that before you sent me east, didn’t you?”
“If you found no dragons, then what kept you away all these years?” She looked out the dark oil-skin window. “Dawn is still far away. Tell me of your journey, Fu Xi, and I will give you the answers you seek.”
As he spoke Fu Xi paced restlessly, occasionally ducking his head under the low rafters. His words started slowly and then burst forth like a confession.
“I discovered a changing world. Things I once thought as timeless and enduring as the mountains and...and...” he frowned and then pointed to Nuwa,”...as you, are transforming at such a pace even mortals can mark the differences.”
***
Mother stood in front of the Altar Rock and held her hand out to Lian. Lian pressed against me and gripped my forefinger with her tiny hand.
“Come,” Mother’s voice echoed flatly off the mirrored granite. “It is time.”
Lian was on the verge of tears. No amount of practice or repetitive lessons from the Holy Mothers could prepare one so young for this moment.
I did what I always did during the Offering. I tried to give the young acolyte courage. I knelt next to her and placed one hand on her chest.
“You were chosen,” I spoke tenderly. “The courage has always been within you. Nuwa looked into your soul and saw it. Through your sacrifice, the Two Dragons will find balance and the world shall be new again.”
Lian wiped away her tears and turned toward Mother and the Altar Rock. She stopped when she saw the crimson gleam of the Offering Blade in mother’s hand. Its handle was shaped like a golden spirit dragon, which twisted a third of the way down the blood red blade.
Lian gasped, turned around and threw her arms around my neck. It was all real now, substantial and horrifying. She squeezed me with the desperation of one bound by duty to grim fate. My heart ached for her, like all the chosen acolytes stretching back to the beginning of time.
She pulled away and looked intently at me, fully aware these were her last few moments. “Fu Xi, I have a secret,” she whispered. “Had I not been chosen, I wanted to grow up and marry you.”
I embraced her and held her tight. Moved by the innocent confession, I fought back the tears.
She released me and turned away. Mother pointed the dagger at the top step on the Altar Rock and motioned for Lian to come forward and take her place.
My role completed, I was relegated to mere spectator. I wanted to close my eyes and turn away. Thousands of years and a thousand Offerings didn’t make this moment any easier. I took my place next to the sacred fountain. The Eternal Tree wilted and the last of its leaves fell into the water. It was time.
The acolyte and the Offering dutifully took their places upon the rock.
Lian squeezed her eyes tightly. I held my breath, afraid she would lose her courage and flee the chamber.
She didn’t. Like all the acolytes before, she opened her eyes and nodded to Mother.
“I am ready,” Lian said.
Mother nodded and calmly looked up at the tree, then to me and spoke the final words, “Let the spirit and the flesh be parted.”
I flinched as the knife plunged into the heart of the Offering. I heard the tip of the red blade strike the granite underneath and prayed it didn’t get lodged in the rock.
Lian gasped, released the blade, and stepped back off the step. A stream of blood from the Offering boldly splattered her face and robe.
“Remove the blade and remain on the step,” I whispered sternly. The cut was properly delivered, but the blade could not remain in Mother’s shell. Shaking, Lian pulled the knife out of Mother’s shell with both hands. It slid out effortlessly.
That was the last time I ever saw Lian’s eyes.
Mother arched back on the slab and exhaled. She didn’t cry out, but then, she never cried out. She turned her head and looked at me with a final glimmer of lucidity. The divine spark intensified and then faded. The presence of the goddess fled the mortal body.
For only a moment I saw the eyes of the little girl I escorted up the Silver Stairs decades earlier. Her name was Mei, and now she looked back at me with her own eyes. I stepped forward, leaned down and kissed her forehead.
“Blessed be she who gives her life in love,” I whispered.
The old woman, who as a child had given her body to be Nuwa’s shell, tenderly smiled up at me as a thin stream of blood tricked out of her mouth. Her eyes unfocused and then glazed over as a death rattle sounded in her chest.
Mei’s blood streamed down the slab and dripped into the eastern canal under the Altar Rock. It ran against the current and quickly spread to the three other canals. The water welling up from the fountain turned red. Before my eyes, the small tree stretched and filled with life. Brittle brown boughs lighted and lifted with vigor. Peach blossoms exploded against a deep green curtain of shoots and sprouts.
A light mist formed over and drifted towards the fountain. It danced and wandered just above the surface, the blood vanishing in its wake. At the fountain, it began to swirl and take a human form. The gentle vortex silently drifted toward Lian and enveloped her. Within the mist, I heard the Offering Blade clatter to the floor. The mist seeped into Lian’s body and vanished.
She stood on the first step and leaned against the slab with her eyes closed. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked about, slightly disoriented, until her gaze rested on me.
“The spirit and the flesh are one.” The childlike voice carried the ancient tone of the goddess. Lian was gone, replaced by the Goddess Nuwa.
She stepped down, still moving like an old woman. It would be many days before Mother remembered how to be young again.
“Carry Mei’s body outside, that we might honor her.”
I gently picked up Mei’s body and carried it to a tranquil meadow in the crater forest. On a granite outcropping similar to the Altar Rock, we cremated her. It was where I cremated my father and all of mother’s mortal husbands. In the twilight, we pra
yed to the Emperor of Heaven to accept Mei’s soul into Paradise.
The white smoke glowed in the starry darkness and carried high above Tortoise Mountain. It told all in Nushen the Offering Ceremony was complete and the Goddess of Tortoise Mountain had taken a new shell.
Across the land of Cin, she was known by many names: Xi Wangmu, the Queen of the West, and Yaochi Jinmu, among others. She preferred the name Nuwa, but I simply called her Mother. Today, she sacrificed herself that the world may be forgiven and renewed for another lifetime.
The Chronicle of Fu Xi
16. Heart Of The Dragon
“A father’s duty is to sternly forge his sons into men, but with daughters he may dote and give unselfish love. This is the way the goddess intended.” – Lo Proverb.
The Chronicle of Fu Xi
They still hadn’t reached the end of the trampled ground when they established camp on the leeward slope of the northern ridge.
Setenay sat on the slope with her blanket wrapped around her thin shoulders. She could see the difference in the landscape. Though trampled, the grass was shorter and tougher than the long, slender stalks on the other side of the Black River. Dusty gray sand littered with stones and pebbles replaced the soft, black soil whence they came. Small trees, forever bent by the wind, held vigil atop the ridges like twisted, tortured spirits.
Here, even the trees bend in pain. The farther we journey from Sethagasi’s womb, the more inhospitable the world becomes.
Setenay didn’t want to show it in front of the men, but the journey was taking its toll. Each step sent flashes of jagged pain up her shins and back. She couldn’t seem to shake the Black River’s icy grip. Her thin blood begged for warm sunshine and a blazing fire.
At her age, Setenay had reached accommodation with her body. Being old meant always being in some degree of pain. She knew most of these aches would subside after a few days of rest, but the new twinges and tugging pressures in her chest concerned her.
Black Sea Gods: Chronicles of Fu Xi Page 19