From The Ashes

by Alexander, Ian; Graham, Joshua

  // DO NOT BACK DOWN …//

  From all he read in the book, from all he’d learned from Aunt Pei’s teaching of the ancient Sojourners, he knew to trust this inner voice which he recognized from other pivotal moments in his life. It had spoken when the mountain lion attacked the flock and quickly turned on him. It had spoken when the wolf rushed at him in the open field. And it had said the very same words. Do not back down.

  The entire royal family was in danger. But by whom? He had not seen the faces of the conspiring trio. Nor did he recognize their voices because they spoke in low murmurs.

  But he knew he must tell Chi. He must warn Mei-Liang, her mother The Queen, and her uncle The Lord Protector, no matter the cost.

  The sun rose over Bai Kuo’s capital over a deep blue canvas. The stone walls had been washed for the royal contests and now white as marble, they shone brilliantly and cast a halo over the entire citadel.

  As the cart which carried Ying and the other contestants entered through the gates, the eagle remained on his shoulder drawing apprehensive glares.

  “It’s for the contest,” he explained.

  “You can’t bring your own, can you?” said the older man who had slept in the top bunk the night before.

  Ying smiled. “There’s no rule prohibiting it.”

  Guards with long spears stood at either side of the open gate. Ying could not help but wonder if perhaps they might be a part of the plot to overthrow Mei-Liang’s kingdom. If only he could warn her, or at least get word to her that they, indeed the entire capital, were all in grave danger. He knew better than to speak with any of the contest officials about this matter; any one of them could be involved.

  Chi was nowhere in sight. Who knew when or if they would meet again? Nevertheless, Ying had to win this next contest. It was the only way to get a chance to get close enough to speak with the princess—when she bestowed the victor’s wreath. But would she believe him? Would she even remember him? It didn’t matter. He had to try.

  After a trumpet fanfare announcing the arrival of all the noble contestants, the audience cheered their favorites. A few moments afterwards, Ying’s peasant cart arrived in the arena. The only fanfare came from the mocking crowds, whistling and making obscene gestures at the less than noble competitors.

  Cages of various beasts and fowls lined the perimeter of the arena. This was one event Ying felt confident he could win, especially because of his new friend, the eagle.

  That Ying had made it this far, despite his defeat by Moh-Gwei, added to his hope that he might prevail. Thus far, he had risen swiftly to the top of other contests that required tactics and strategy such as Leit. This was an exotic game ordinarily played with military pieces across a round board with manifold concentric circles, each band sectioned off into twelve columns radiating from the center.

  Instead of hand held pieces, however, for the purposes of this tournament and benefit of the audience, the matches had employed live characters on a giant board in the center of the arena, each enacting the commands of the contestants.

  Ying had never beheld such a spectacle and found it inspiring as he defeated opponent after opponent. Unfortunately, the battle of wits gave way to combat matches, and that was where his skills and training found their limitations.

  True, he had fought off and killed a mountain lion and a wolf to protect his flock, but a shepherd did not stand a chance against a trained warrior like Moh-Gwei.

  “All contestants!” The officiator’s voice pulled Ying from his thoughts. “You will all be allotted twenty-minutes to select and train your animal. In this, the penultimate of contests, you will display your mastery of the fourth ancient element. The fabled ‘spirit potential.’”

  The audience laughed with amusement at the term. The ancients were said to have possessed special abilities manifest in the characteristics of various animals. But no one in this enlightened age believed it. Now, it had been reduced to lore and superstition.

  But for Ying it held more than just a belief in the stories of the Ancients—The Sojourners—as Aunt Pei had secretly taught. He believed they did exist even ten centuries ago, “When the last Millennial Phoenix arose and brought about the redemption of Valhandra’s people.”

  Even now, as her didactic words echoed in his mind, they sounded superstitious and childish on the surface. And those who once believed were either dead, or too old to be taken seriously. But Ying still chose to believe. Even now, he pushed aside any dissenting thoughts.

  For the next twenty minutes, he acquainted himself with the eagle, which he named Xue. It seemed instantaneous; everything he commanded, Xue understood and knew how to execute. A mutual fondness grew between the master and bird with each exercise, even the command to kill the stuffed practice decoy of the wolf.

  “Shah!”Ying commanded in the ancient dialect, which presently very few knew. Xue flew at the decoy and tore its head off. White stuffing floated down to the dirt as it carried it into the air.

  A low sigh of wonder went up into the arena. Apparently many of them had been watching. But they were not watching Ying and his eagle, they were marveling at Moh-Gwei. He had just arrived with a mountain lion on a shiny silver chain. It was then that Ying remembered that this was not only a contest of skill, but a fight to the death.

  One inebriated audience member leaned over the rail and in slurred speech derided Ying. “Don’ you wisth you brought a panther or thomesing…not a little bird!”

  Ying ignored him and trained his eyes upon Xue’s. In that moment, he sensed a connection. He could almost see through the eagle’s eyes, and felt that the eagle could do likewise through his.

  // IT’S A MOUNTAIN LION, XUE //

  To his amazement, he sensed Xue’s reply:

  // I HAVE FOUGHT WORSE //

  Nodding, Ying offered his confidence. Xue did not even blink as he turned and stared at Moh-Gwei’s predator leaping through flaming hoops, attacking life-sized human decoys and tearing them to shreds.

  When the practice trials concluded, a trio of Summit Horns announced the beginning of the tournament. The first two rounds of elimination went by quickly. In fifteen minutes, Xue had garnered quick surrenders from the masters of a wolf, a bear, a leopard, and a hawk. None of them wished to see the creatures in their charge killed, especially after they had already lost by a great measure of points. Xue’s speed and agility earned him many times the points needed to defeat each of his opponents without having to actually kill them.

  There was, however, a great deal of blood and injury.

  Xue returned to Ying’s shoulder.

  Over on the other side of the arena, the crowds cheered as Moh-Gwei and his mountain lion stood before a mound of fallen animals. They too had risen to the top of their division, only their opponents did not fare as well as Xue’s. They were all dead.

  The tournament official stood on the level stone in the center of field. His ceremonial robe fluttered in the wind as he stood stiffly and called out, “Two finalists remain! Moh-Gwei, Prince of the Seventh District, and Ying, shepherd of Xingjia!”

  As the applause went up, the official motioned for them to come to the cage within which they were to battle. Ying strode over and passed the booth with the red curtains. The princess did not show herself, though her outline could be seen silhouetted by the sunlight. Perhaps if he ran over to warn her…

  The two armed guards with razor-tipped spears discouraged the thought.

  The tournament master gestured for the gates to be locked and announced the rules of the final round. “The winner of this match will proceed to the final contest. It is therefore, a fight to the death.”

  Ying glanced at Xue. “You will be victorious.”

  “You bird shall be dinner for Lohng!” Moh-Gwei patted his mountain lion’s neck and unfastened the chain from its collar. Lohng! What arrogance naming a large cat “Dragon.”

  Ying grinned. “Did you see the bear Xue fought? It was a bloody pulp, limping back to its cage without an
y eyes.”

  While Moh-Gwei got into position, Ying could not help wondering if this was that third and silent horseman who was to win the hand of the princess and then assassinate the royal family. But what could he do other than defeat him? The few seconds in which Mei-Liang bestowed the victor’s wreath would be the only opportunity he could get to even speak to her.

  “Begin!” shouted the tournament master.

  At once, Lohng sprung towards the center of the cage with ears flattened, eyes glaring, and fangs dripping.

  Ying sent Xue forth and retained his own perspective for tactical purposes.

  // KEEP ABOVE HIM! EARN STRIKE POINTS FROM BEHIND //

  Lohng reared up on his hind legs as Xue approached. The eagle swooped down and swiped its talon across the fur of Lohng’s tawny foreleg. Lohng hissed and growled, taking a swing at Xue. But he missed and returned to the ground on all four legs, one of which bled from the gash.

  “Strike point for Ying!”

  Moderate applause.

  Lohng spun around, just as Xue descended and struck the top of his head. This time, the mountain lion dropped to the ground and rolled. But not quickly enough to evade another laceration. The corner of its left ear had been ripped off.

  “Strike point for Ying!”

  Moh-Gwei unrolled the whip from his side and cracked it in the air behind Lohng. “Fight, you worthless kitten!”

  // HE’S DISTRACTED, APPROACH FROM THE WEST! //

  Even as Lohng leapt up with his massive paws swinging, Xue caught his neck between his talons. Then something truly remarkable happened. With each flap of his wings, Xue began to glow. His entire body grew to twice its size. And he lifted Lohng into the air by the scruff of his neck, as a mother cat would its young.

  Blood dripped from its wounds as Xue now, almost larger than the mountain lion flew to the top of the cage. Ying’s mouth hung agape. He had only read about such wonders in his father’s Ancient Sojourner book.

  “What is this!” Moh-Gwei demanded. “Surely this is a violation! How did—?”

  “Do not ask me,” Ying replied. “I didn’t know this could happen.”

  Now, every spectator rose to his feet. The entire arena bellowed in amazement as the mountain lion thrashed about, trying in vain to bite or claw the massive eagle.

  But Moh-Gwei threw his whip down, ran to the bars of the cage and shouted at the tournament master. “Ying must be disqualified immediately!”

  But the tournament master, his eyes wide and fixed on the enormous, glowing eagle, clutching the mountain lion in its talons, gave him a dismissive wave.

  // XUE, HOW ARE YOU DOING THIS? //

  Suddenly, Lohng swung himself around, grasped Xue with his paws, and shook him out of flight. They both fell and struck the ground, sending a cloud of dust into the air. It wasn’t more than fifteen feet, but the impact reached Ying’s ears.

  “Xue!”

  The cloud dissipated. Ying stepped forward. Xue, now his normal size stood on the ground and flapped his wings twice before folding them away. Next to him lay a very dazed Lohng, whose tongue hung out of his panting mouth.

  “Three strike points for Ying!”

  For the first time in the entire tournament, the audience cheered for Ying. This did not impress him much, as his thoughts remained on finding a way to end this so that he could win and reach the princess.

  “The use of magic is forbidden in the entire Empire!” Moh-Gwei shouted. “I demand proper adjudication!”

  The tournament master signaled to the guards by the red curtained booth. One of them spoke into the curtain. Shortly after, the Princess emerged.

  “What is the grievance?”

  “The use of magic, Your Highness!” Moh-Gwei pointed to Xue, who stood unblinking over the stunned body of Lohng. “My opponent must be disqualified for using…an enchanted bird!”

  From over the edge of her white and ornately stitched fan, Mei-Liang peered down at Xue. “I see nothing magical about that eagle.”

  “But did you not see what it did to my mountain lion?”

  “It appears to have defeated it.”

  The spectators laughed.

  “No, what I meant—”

  Just then, Lohng leapt up, struck the eagle with its paw and wrapped its jaws around it.

  Ying gasped and let out a shout. But it was too late. After one twitch, Lohng bore down. The sound of bones cracking reached Ying’s ears. He tried to cry out, but the words caught in his parched throat.

  Moh-Gwei looked back to see what had just happened. He turned back to the princess. “Forgive the disturbance, Princess. The matter is resolved.”

  A tear rolled down from Ying’s eye. He didn’t understand why the death of this bird should affect him so deeply, but it did. As Lohng released the body from his mouth, Moh-Gwei came over and rubbed the mountain lion’s head affectionately. “Well done, my friend. Well done.”

  “Seven strike points for Moh-Gwei!” the tournament master announced, without enthusiasm. “Contestants will await the final tally.”

  Ying went over to the Xue’s broken body. The eagle’s breast was punctured and wings snapped. His head bent back at an impossible angle. “I’m sorry, Xue.”

  “A valiant effort,” Moh-Gwei murmured as he passed by.

  As Ying bowed his head over his fallen friend, he shut his eyes and did not perceive the white light stretching out like tendrils from Xue’s body. It floated up and encircled Ying, who was unaware as it seeped into his body.

  A sudden rush of cognition filled his mind. Memories of many a lifetime flashed before his inner eyes, too fast to comprehend. And then in a moment, it was over. He saw nothing, felt nothing. But deep within, he became aware of something in his very being. Something that had not been there before.

  “We’ll be killed if they find us out here,” Chi hissed, blowing hot breath into his hands and rubbing them together. Pale moonlight blanketed the entire forest with sheets of white sliced into manifold ribbons by the shadows of branches which resembled the arms of a mythical sea monster. “What’s this all about?”

  Ying rubbed his arms and stamped his feet to keep them warm. “I can’t believe how cold it’s gotten tonight.”

  “Then let’s hurry up and get this over with, so we can return to the warmth of our beds.”

  Glancing around to make sure no one was listening, Ying began. “We’ve got to do something.”

  “I have been saying as much.”

  “No, I mean we’ve got to do something to prevent a terrible…” What was the term?

  “A terrible what?”

  “Something dreadful is about to happen.”

  “I agree.” Chi grunted. “We’re going to freeze our backsides off, unless you spit it out.”

  “We’ve got to warn the princess. Do you have any means of getting a message to the royal family?”

  The dead silence, the eyes squinting in barely restrained snort, the suppressed convulsion of his chest, all converged in a cough that sounded much like a laugh. “You would like me to help you send a love-letter to Her Highness for you, my young minstrel?” Chi slapped a heavy hand upon Ying’s back and it would have sent him face first into the dirt, had he not been holding onto a tree branch. “Come now, you’ve lost the tournament. We should both go home to Xingjia and lick our wounds.”

  “I’m not joking, Chi! Last night, I overheard a band of men plotting to kill the royal family and bring an army of thousands to overtake Bai Kuo.”

  At this, Chi’s demeanor hardened. The smile faded and the corners of his mouth pulled into a taut line beneath his dark brown mustache. “Tell me.”

  After Ying repeated everything, a dark cloud covered the moon and cast a shadow all around them.

  Chi’s voice lowered in pitch and deepened in severity. “I cannot be certain, but it fits the pattern of the strategies employed by the current ruler of Xieh Di.”

  “But isn’t that—?”

  “Yes. Which is precisely why it
makes no sense. And yet, perhaps it makes perfect sense. They are the closest by blood to the royal family. And such an action was foretold in the Sojourner prophecies.”

  Ying’s eyes grew wide. “So you do believe?”

  “Have I ever denied it?”

  “But you never told me.”

  “You never asked.”

  This was too much of a revelation for Ying to handle at once. But so much of it became clearer with each passing moment. All the scriptural references, all the combat terminology which Ying had thought Chi meant merely as mythological attributions to Sojourner tradition.

  Without thinking, Ying grasped the collar of Chi’s shirt and yanked it down to reveal that odd-shaped birthmark.

  “You bear the mark.”

  “You bear absurdity.” Chi pulled back. “Enough of this childhood jest.”

  “I am completely serious. That mark…” he pointed at that spot just below Chi’s collarbone. You know what it means.”

  If not for the uncharacteristic anxiety in Chi’s eyes, Ying might have thought his cousin found this as amusing as he did ridiculous. “It…It can’t possibly mean…there are limits to what one can believe, Ying.”

  “It says in the tomes, ‘He that beareth the mark—’”

  “—shall rule over My people for three generations. Yes, I know. And it is for precisely that reason it cannot be me. After all, I am just a man, like you, like my father and his father before him. No one lives that long. And the Sojourners? They’re…”

  Ying let out an impatient breath. Wisps of breath floated into the air. “They’re long dead, that’s what you mean to say, isn’t it?”

  Chi turned away and gazed into the night sky.

  With unveiled exasperation, Ying let out a huff. “Well, who is to say they won’t rise up again, and that Valhandra won’t reestablish his dominion among His people again? And weren’t you the one who always said, ‘Fight now or die later?’”

  Chi scoffed and shook his head and spoke with such disdain as Ying had never before heard. His voice increased in volume and sarcasm with every word. “Who will it start with, me? Shall I be the High King of the mighty Sojourner nation? Will you be my trusted advisor? And we as a nation of two men—shall we bring peace to the entire empire? Ha!”