From The Ashes

by Alexander, Ian; Graham, Joshua

  “Chi, don’t—!”

  “No! I have had enough of your foolishness. When we were children it was well enough a joke between boys, but now it is time for you to grow up! Get your head out of the clouds and stop believing the fairy tales you’ve been reading from your father’s stupid book!” With an angry grunt, Chi turned and trudged off to the east, away from the Citadel wall. As he left, he let out a grunt. “I wonder if this whole conspiracy story is just another one of your fairy tale imaginations!”

  “It’s not, Chi! Please, listen to me. You can win tomorrow’s final contest. If you do—”

  “I only came to sponsor you, and you’re finished.”

  “Chi.”

  “I’m going back to Xingjia.” He turned around and glared at Ying, “You should do the same.”

  “Wait!”

  Chi threw the back of his hand up and walked off into the gloom.

  Ying shivered as a frigid breeze washed over him and blew through the trees, causing leaves to rustle like waves rushing up onto the rocky shores of Xi Hai. He sat upon a fallen tree trunk and buried his face into his hands. Why had Chi gotten so upset? And what could he possibly do now to get word to Mei-Liang and the royal family?

  Maybe Chi is right. Maybe I should just go home.

  Through the tiny crevices between his arms and fingers, strings of bright golden light seeped in. When he lifted his head, he found himself surrounded in warmth and brilliance. And then, before he could utter a word it was gone. A sepulchral quietude fell over the woods. Save for the cooing of a dove, all was silent.

  When he lifted his head, such brilliance enveloped him in warmth and the sweet aroma of honeysuckle and incense that he could see nothing but light.

  All-encompassing light.

  At that moment, he thought he heard the shrill call of an eagle.

  // XUE? //

  Like fire, something arose from his belly up into his chest. Cold or hot, he couldn’t quite say, but it radiated from his heart to his very extremities. It felt like…power. And with it came courage. All the anxiety over Chi, Mei-Liang, the threats against the royal family dissipated in the aura of the light which now seemed to enter him as though through a funnel into his heart.

  As the last ray entered him, Ying felt more alive than he’d ever felt in his entire life. He envisioned an army of ten thousand coming in force against the citadel and though he ought to have feared, though he had no idea how to defend against them, Ying felt nothing of the sort.

  //FEAR NOT, YING…//

  It was not Xue.

  That voice.

  Though at once it had sounded like Xue’s, it was something older, deeper, eternal. And then, as though he’d known the voice all his life, Ying fell to his knees. “Is it You, Sire? Are you…?”

  // I AM //

  A mixture of joy and terror fell over him. Ying buried his face in the ground which instead of feeling like cold dirt, felt like the fresh grass of Spring, its sweet fragrance bearing witness to new life. All the strength and courage that had just infused his entire being faded in the light of His presence.

  “Valhandra?”

  // IT IS I, MY SON…//

  “I am utterly doomed!” For in His presence, all that Ying thought was good about himself seemed as filthy rags, all that he had thought worthy in himself seemed worthless in the glory of Valhandra’s majesty, the beautiful terror of His purity.

  // ARISE, MY SON. I HAVE GIVEN YOU MY SPIRIT. NOW GO, THEREFORE, TO THE GREAT ENTERPRISE UPON WHICH I SET THY FEET AND HANDS. //

  He lifted his face from his palms. “Where…you send me I shall go, My Lord.”

  // THOU SHALT RECEIVE THY HEART’S DESIRE. BUT IT SHALL COST THEE THAT WHICH THOU TREASURETH MOST. ART THOU WILLING TO DRINK THIS CUP? //

  Now on his feet, Ying tried to keep his legs from trembling. “I am willing, My Lord.” Perhaps he ought to have considered what exactly his heart’s desire was and what it was that he treasured most, before committing to losing it. But something deep down trusted Valhandra’s words, His voice.

  // REMEMBER THEN, MY SON. WHEN THOU FINDETH THYSELF AT THE UTTER END OF THINE ABILITIES, WHEN THOU ART COMPLETELY ALONE…EVEN THEN, THOU ARE NOT. FOR LO, I AM WITH THEE ALWAYS //

  “Sire, I am but a young man. I don’t know what to do.”

  // BUT THEY THAT WAIT UPON ME SHALL RENEW THEIR STRENGTH; THEY SHALL MOUNT UP WITH WINGS AS EAGLES; THEY SHALL RUN, AND NOT BE WEARY; AND THEY SHALL WALK, AND NOT FAINT. CALL UPON ME, AND I SHALL SCATTER THINE ENEMIES //

  “But what should I do about—?” Before he could ask about the assassination plot, the surprise attack on the royal family and the conquest of their realm, a mighty wind rushed up into the heavens, a trail of leaves spiraling up with it.

  “No, wait. My Lord, please! I’m afraid…”

  // FEAR NOT. ONLY BELIEVE //

  While the tournament ran, Ying had never known where to find Chi and considered himself fortunate if he happened to see him in passing, much less arrange a secret meeting in the woods. But this morning, in the hours before the final contest, his entire encounter the night before had fallen into the back of his memories as though it had been a dream. Now, he could think of one thing only: Find a way into the royal palace and warn Mei-Liang.

  With his back pressed up against the stone walls of the royal kitchen’s alleyway, Ying’s heart pounded relentlessly. Straw from the wagon in which he’d stowed away and stolen into the citadel pricked at his back, despite his best efforts to brush it off.

  The morning rays had not yet filled the alleyway and all he could see in the shadows was the outlines of two rather large rats skittering around the putrid refuse mounds. The stench nearly brought water to his eyes and bile to his mouth.

  A grey striped cat sat atop a barrel and watched as the disease-ridden rodents scampered under its view. With one swift swing, the cat batted one of the rats with alarming force. The rat went flying and tumbled right over Ying’s foot.

  “Ai—!”

  But Ying covered his mouth just as the sound of approaching footfalls interrupted. He ducked behind the barrel and prayed the cat would stay there, licking its paw.

  It did.

  “You’d better hurry up with that fish!” said a rough sounding man to another. “The Lord Protector will have your head if his breakfast is late.”

  “Ah, you’re just trying to get in early enough to catch a glimpse of the princess.”

  “Be quiet!”

  “Tell me I am wrong, then.”

  “Stop speaking through your rear, you flatulent old fool!”

  “Hahah! Come on, young buck. Let’s get this fish into the kitchen. Maybe the princess will see you and bat her eyelashes at you!”

  A slap on the head.

  The door before the crates and barrels creaked open. The two men wheeled in loads of fresh fish which lay upon blocks of ice. As soon as the door smacked shut, Ying got up, noticed a silver strip on the floor glinting in the singular beam of light entering the alley. It was a fish, dropped from the containers as the two men entered the kitchen. Ying bent down, picked it up and put it on the barrel in front of the cat.

  “Hungry?”

  The cat yowled appreciatively, grabbed the fish in its mouth and leapt away.

  A moment later, Ying found himself in the cleanest, largest kitchen he had ever seen in his life. The wooden floor boards were polished not splintered. The walls were paneled with pine and spruce and sealed in an elegant dark stain. Instead of the reek of rotting food improperly disposed of, the entire kitchen smelled of lemons and fresh cut lilies. He shut his eyes to take in the olfactory splendor and lost himself in the moment.

  Until something bounced off his head.

  “You! What are you doing just standing there?”

  Ying opened his eyes and a rather large woman with manifold chins—some of which were adorned with a few thin strands of hairs—stood with her arms crossed over her considerable chest. On her head she wore the white hat of
a cook. By her demeanor, Ying could tell that he’d trespassed upon her dominion and was about to pay for it. “I—well…that is…”

  “Are you an idiot, or are you going to get to work?” She tossed him a basket, which he barely caught, and turned her back on him to open an oven. “Get over here now!”

  “Yes, Sir—I mean, Ma’am!”

  Back still turned, she let out a guttural growl. Then she turned around holding with towels, a pan full of freshly baked biscuits that instantly made Ying’s mouth water. A drop escaped his lip but he dared not set the basket down to wipe it. Instead he wiped his mouth against his shoulder.

  “Stop gawking and get over here!”

  “Yes, Ma’am.” He stepped over and held out the basket as she dumped at least a dozen sweet rolls into it. Now, the growl came from Ying’s stomach.

  “Hungry?” The cook said with an incongruous smile.

  “Yes.”

  “Too bad!” She slapped him across the head with her towel. “The Lord Protector does not care if a mere kitchen hand has or has not eaten breakfast!” She looked over her shoulder. “Where’s that FISH!”

  A clattering ruckus broke out in the adjacent room and the two men who had brought in the wheelbarrows of fish emerged, each with handfuls of shiny fish in their hands. “Right here, Ma’am.”

  “How do you think the Lord Protector will take it if his biscuits arrive without steamed fish?”

  The younger one only stared.

  The older answered, “Uh…uh….well…we’ve just finished scaling the first batch, Ma’am.”

  She scowled and threw an apple at him, which he just barely evaded. “So why are you just standing there?”

  “You just—”

  “STEAM THOSE ACCURSED FISH, OR I’LL GUT YOU!”

  The two bowed awkwardly and backed out of the kitchen, dropping fish as they did.

  “Now,” said the royal cook. “While I wait for them, you will take this to Her Highness, the Princess. The Lord Protector will not abide biscuits without fish, so….” She turned, picked something up, turned back and placed an ornate golden goblet with a single hard-boiled egg resting in the center on his tray, while removing all but one of the biscuits. “There, a fresh ‘Millennial Phoenix’ egg, hard boiled as she likes it. You will take these to Her Highness. The princess prefers to take breakfast in solitude, in her chamber. Do you think you can take it to her successfully?”

  “I’m sure of it.”

  “Good. Now go.”

  “It’s just…” He didn’t know how to tell her he had no idea where the princess’s chamber was. “I mean…”

  “Oh when will they ever send me some intelligent help? I wait two months only to get…” she pointed at Ying, her finger quivering with rage, “…you?”

  Ying bowed humbly. “I know where to go,” he lied.

  “Then don’t just stand there like a complete imbecile! Go!”

  Carefully as he could, he stepped out of the kitchen and into the massive halls of the palace. Colorful light infused the halls as it flowed through the stained glass windows and spread out like a rainbow over the expansive white marble floor which echoed with every step.

  With at least half a dozen staircases in sight, Ying’s head spun as different thoughts floated within. Somehow, he’d managed to sneak into the palace and not get killed. Now he was about to see Mei-Liang in person. Shouldn’t he be happy? And yet, his apprehension which manifested in sweating palms and racing heart made him wonder if he was not quite as glad to see her after all.

  Just then, he saw a chamber maid at the foot of the ever-winding staircase. Ying rushed over and whispered, “Can you please help me?” He almost dropped his tray.

  “I am late. The princess—”

  “Yes! The princess. I am new and must bring her breakfast or…” he glanced back at the kitchen then back to the chambermaid. Giving him a knowing look, she shook her head.

  “Oh, I see.” The chamber maid smirked. “You’ve met the Tiger Lilly.”

  “The what?”

  “Never mind. Quickly, come with me.” She started up the stairs. “If that beast of a cook decides you are not worthy, she’ll have your head. Literally.”

  With his free hand, Ying touched this throat and for a brief moment wondered how much pain he’d suffer if he were to be decapitated by an executioner’s axe.

  Three flights later, they finally arrived. Ying was about to follow the chambermaid inside when she slapped his hand, nearly toppling the biscuits again. “You mustn’t! Her highness will be dressing.”

  “Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.”

  “Country bumpkins!” She sniffed, turned her nose up and opened the door and entered.

  From high above the vestibule, Ying could see outside the castle and over the citadel walls. Rolling hills with sharp zeniths crowned by verdant trees stood in the way of his eastern view, where Xieh Di ruled Chungzhou with a fist of iron. If his troops were coming now, he could not see them. He could only hope the forward sentries could relay a signal back in time to warn the royal guard. But if the Chungans were going to strike, he must find a way to prevent it. For all Ying knew, the sentries were already dead, and the Chungan army lay in wait, obscured in the thick of the forest and hills.

  “You! Country-boy. Come here!”

  How long he had been staring out the windows, Ying could not recall. The chambermaid’s harsh tone jolted him back to his present situation. “Oh, right! Is the princess ready?”

  “Her highness is dressed.” She rolled her eyes. “But it’s not as though she’s waiting for the likes of you. Just go inside, set the tray down and back out of the room. Tarry a second longer and she’ll have you—”

  “Executed, I know.”

  “Perhaps you are smarter than you look.”

  Both hands on the tray, Ying smiled nervously and shrugged his shoulders.

  Again, the chambermaid rolled her eyes. “Or perhaps not.” She grabbed his arm, digging her claws into his skin and pulled him to the open door. “Go!”

  Ying stumbled into the door, which stood almost twice as large as any door he’d ever seen. It took all his control not to stare slack-jawed at the ornate carvings in the polished ebony door. There were lion’s heads, dragons and phoenixes, and so many other objects in the woodworking he thought he could spend the entire day just looking at each one of them and admiring the craftsmanship.

  As he turned his head back into the cavernous chamber, bright red flooded his eyes. Scarlet satin sheets covered the princess’s bed, upon which five grown adults could have easily slept. Wine colored curtains towered over the entire room. It took Ying several attempts to locate the princess, or at least a table upon which he could rest his tray.

  Finding neither, he decided to place the tray on the bed. As he did, the sweetest aroma of perfume tickled his nose. Intoxicating. He had only encountered this heavenly scent once before—like jasmines and honey—when he had first met Mei Liang in the woods.

  As the tray touched the bed sheets, the goblet with the ‘Millennial Phoenix’ egg tipped over. He caught it before it made a sound and righted it. Slowly backing away, for fear he might disturb the quietude of this vast room, Ying let out a somber breath.

  The chambermaid hissed through the doorway. “Get back here at once!”

  With the weight of a millstone on his chest, he turned around and started walking back to the door.

  To have come this close, only to…

  “Wait,” came the gentle command from within the chamber.

  Ying stopped. Dared not move a muscle.

  Clear as the ringing of a crystal wine glass, her voice penetrated the air. “Jing Li, pray shut the door.”

  “Your Highness.” The chambermaid inclined her head and shut the door right before Ying’s face.

  “Sir, would you please turn around and face me?” Her voice was clear as the red Kao birds that sang during the spring harvest in Xingjia. With trepidation and anticipation, Ying obe
yed. Was he smiling? Should he appear severe? Repentant? Courageous?

  “Yes, your highness.”

  “Permit me to look upon your countenance.”

  He turned slowly. And to his surprise—because he had not perceived her walking towards him—there she stood. “Your Highness!” Ying dropped to one knee, his face bowed to the ground. Even though the moment in which he had beheld her face had been shorter than a breath, his heart raced.

  A gentle hand rested upon his shoulder. Though he knew he must not, Ying lifted his eyes to meet hers. Soft as silk, her hand touched his face. “I have long awaited this moment, Ying.”

  Slowly he raised his eyes. Standing before him, Mei Liang was even more beautiful than he remembered. “As have I, my princess.”

  She reached out her hand. “I pray you, arise, Sir.”

  Ying stood, never taking his eyes off of hers for they were shining as ink in the well of a calligraphy pen, and matched her flowing raven mane. Neither smiled. Instantly, they each felt what the other did—a painful yearning that had persevered against all hope. A yearning that one day they would meet again.

  Mei Liang’s eyes shimmered, reflecting the golden light of the morning. “Time and again have I foreseen this moment. Since the day we met.”

  Before he knew it, their lips were touching. Rather than speak, he pulled her close, and she him. And as they kissed, a thousand images flashed through their minds, sharing thoughts, sharing memories, desires, fears and premonitions.

  Breathless, he pulled back to speak.

  But Mei Liang would not let go. Tears in her eyes, she kissed him again and held on until the tiniest sobs forced her to turn away.

  “Your Highness, if I have offended you in any way…” Confusion and compassion riddled Ying’s heart.

  “It is not because of you.”