by Brian Thomas
The ceiling of light which had been above them was now a bright pool below them. Rising out of the pool was a spiralling column made from thick cords of gleaming light, twisting around each other as they stretched up into the void. The colossal column towered upwards, appearing to fray and branch as it did so. These branches in turn also frayed and branched again and again. The column was like the trunk of a great tree casting a huge canopy of glowing branches, stretching beyond the point where Li Chin could distinguish them from a glowing haze.
The awesome scale of the tree of light and the height it extended was disorientating, making Li Chin acutely aware of his own vulnerability and insignificance in the universe, utterly humbling in its awesome scale. Still unable to see any sign of his body or feel any of his surroundings, it was as if Li Chin’s consciousness were floating weightlessly in the void and he was almost overwhelmed by the sheer scale of his surroundings. His thoughts were interrupted as he felt a message being conveyed from his guide. “Have courage Warrior Priest!”
Li Chin barely had time to take comfort from the command or register surprise, having momentarily forgotten his guide, when they were off again. Speeding towards the tree of light, which he could now see was slowly spiralling as it drew light within itself from the pool and into which it was slowly sinking downwards.
The guide unerringly aimed for a particular strand as it hurtled them towards the twisting, colossal structure in front of them. The glowing strand which appeared slim from a distance rapidly became an enormous structure in its own right and almost blinding as they plunged directly into it. There was an immediate sense of descending, the dark void and the tree of light left far behind.
As they drew closer to the ground Li Chin recognised the same tableau they had just left; only busy with activity and meaning now. He could see his own sword poised to make the swing at Zu Wah’s confirmation and then the guardian, he took to be himself, asked a question of Zu Wah, who gave the command to strike. There was a brief pause and his sword swung, catching the sun in a brief gleam before it completed a near circle. Xiou’s head seemed to leap from his shoulders, pushed away by a brief jet of crimson before his body dropped spasming to the bloodied ground.
The old man’s children covered their eyes in horror unable to entirely look away, while his wife threw herself with a desperate cry at the crumpled heap that had been Xiou, trying to bring it and the dismembered head together again. The villagers surrounding the spectacle softly moaned in shared misery and fear, as Zu Wah turned towards his canopied dining area. He was reverently offered a porcelain cup of tea by one of his servants. Li Chin watched fascinated as he saw himself turn to follow Zu Wah, his double’s features rigid and all emotion suppressed whilst studiously ignoring his immediate surroundings and made for the place set beside Zu Wah.
The chamberlain signalled to his staff to collect the earthenware containing the seed stocks and the chickens still in their wicker cage, momentarily undecided what to do with them before sending them off to be used by the soldiers camped out in the fields beyond the village. The villagers slowly dragged themselves up and went to comfort the distraught wife and children of the executed Xiou, relieved to have survived any further repercussions from Zu Wah but desperate at the loss of Xiou and their seed stocks. As the Li Chin below turned to follow Zu Wah, the spell was broken and the others began to move and return to their interrupted tasks. Li Chin felt a lurch as his guide resumed their journey.
The spectacle below them shrank with distance as the guide pulled Li Chin forwards and up. Gradually, the indistinguishable features cleared as they descended again, individual figures and objects could be discerned as they hovered over another scene being played out below them. Li Chin could see a walled city he did not recognise, in its centre a fortress, presumably the city’s palace for the ruling family, the city’s Great House.
Drawing closer to the city and viewed from above, the private gardens within the inner fortress, with their meandering streams and pathways bordered by manicured blooms and bushes, were a stark contrast to the overcrowded streets of the main city. The palace, a fortress within a fortress, had stone two and three storey buildings. Elegant towers pointing skyward surrounded by high crenulated walls. In the gardens wooden houses, no less elaborate for being made of wood, nestled up against the walls of their taller masonry neighbours.
A procession of gloriously dressed nobles emerged through the twenty foot inner gates from the palace to the city. The gates opened on to a plaza, massive in proportions and covered in bright mosaic images constructed from thousands of small tiles and stones of different hues. The plaza was crowded with the kneeling citizens of the city, who faced the gates and entrance to the inner fortress. As the nobles emerged the entire population kneeling in the plaza had bowed their heads to the floor, until the chamberlain brought his staff of office down with a sharp double rap, though Li Chin could hear nothing from the silent tableau below.
In almost perfect time the thousands of heads rose as one, though their owners remained kneeling before their elaborately attired lords but now able to look up to them seated on a raised dais. A second group was emerging from the same gates, comprising of ten men with their hands tied behind their backs and with a rope around their neck, each being led by a house servant. Escorting them on either side was a column of guards immaculately turned out in their House livery, their bronze and lacquer armour gleaming in the bright sunshine. Leading the group from the centre was a plainly dressed figure with the same slightly curved sword at his hip as Li Chin himself carried.
Mentally leaning forward, Li Chin peered closely and was surprised when he recognised himself leading the group into the plaza. “Yes, it is you.” his guide confirmed in a silent thought. Columns of guards formed up in lines facing the kneeling populace with their backs to the platform which came up almost to their heads, no doubt so the Masters seated on it had an unrestricted view. The escort arranged the bound men in a thin line in front of the guards, forcing them to their knees and facing the dais. The Li Chin below stood to one side of the line of bound men also facing the dais, uncompromising and expressionless with legs slightly apart. The chamberlain stepped forward and made a short statement to the packed ranks of citizens in the plaza, before stepping back and turning to look at the Li Chin standing to one side of the bound men. The kneeling ranks of citizens also turned to watch the taut figure of Li Chin, who took two steps forward and made a brief statement to the central figure on the dais, which the suspended consciousness of Li Chin interpreted as a question to, his master? Li Chin was observing himself as a guardian again, to a master in this unfamiliar city?
“Yes”, the guide confirmed in its wordless response.
The Li Chin in the plaza turned to stand behind the first bound man, drawing his sword in a single fluid motion. The bright blade reflected the sun as it was unsheathed and held poised above his head. The image of himself looked up to his master on the dais, who gave a brief nod in response. At the confirmation the sword swung down in a quick flash severing the head of the man before him, whose now decapitated body slumped forward pumping bright gouts of blood as it fell. Stepping towards the next man in the line, the figure of Li Chin again raised his sword and looked to the dais, asking a brief question before receiving a shake of the head from his master. The sword swept down in a flash and again a head was separated from a body, which slumped forward gushing blood in bright wells as it fell to the ground. Without pause the Li Chin below stepped behind the next bound man, who began to struggle and had to be held in place by the guard who had escorted him out. All of the remaining men were struggling, some calling out to the men on the dais but to no effect. The relentless figure of Li Chin strode up behind them one after the other, seeking a final confirmation from his master who was looking increasingly irritated at being questioned, before the sword fell and did its deadly work. In less than a minute the figure of Li Chin had beheaded all ten of the bound men, their bodies lying in a slowly sp
reading pool of blood. Methodically wiping his blade clean on a cloth he threw beside the last body, the figure of Li Chin sheathed his sword before climbing the steps of the dais to stand beside his master.
The chamberlain stepped forward, again rapping his staff on the floor and delivering a brief announcement. When he finished the kneeling populace placed their heads to the ground. The nobles on the dais rose and, accompanied by the Li Chin below, returned through the gates to the splendour of the palace gardens. They were followed by the guards and servants who had accompanied the executed men, passing through the imposing gates which closed resolutely behind them. Only then did the kneeling citizens start to rise.
The consciousness of Li Chin suspended above the plaza was wondering at the significance of what he had seen, while simultaneously struggling with the doubts and thoughts generated by the event. He had appeared to be fulfilling the role of a guardian, though the city and the people were unfamiliar. There had also been the sensation of having been pulled forward by his guide – was this his future? But he had just completed his bonded servitude to the House of Wah on behalf of the Temple’s covenant and while a priest might volunteer to complete consecutive indentures there were usually long intervening periods at the Temple. The Li Chin he had seen below was still young. He knew he would not willingly volunteer for another period of servitude, whilst the role of executioner he had just witnessed his future self perform made a mockery of the skills and the knowledge he had to offer.
Li Chin had fought both in battle and in single combat against the champions of other Great Houses. He had come to know the truth of the Temple’s teachings, that each time you took another’s life the act gave something to you and took something in return. The prospect of acting as executioner filled him with abhorrence. Nevertheless, he knew that as a guardian he would fulfil all of the orders given to him by his sworn master, the oath of indenture which fulfilled the covenant left no room for anything else. Failure to do so would compromise the Temple’s obligations under the pact between the Sun Palace and the Temple.
He began to feel an icy dread for the rest of the future before him at the command of men such as Zu Wah and the unknown master he had just witnessed. He gave a mental shudder at the thought, instantly feeling his guide pulling him forward again. The scene below disappeared into an indistinct blur and he was relieved to be away from an event which left him feeling sullied by his association with it and the part he had seen himself sworn to fulfil.
The blurred images below began to form into distinct shapes, coalescing into solid objects, until Li Chin was again hovering over a drama being played out below. They were above a single storey building in a large village. Rain was driving down, the skies leaden with the promise of more to come and casting a gloomy light, in what looked to be early afternoon.
Citizens were gathered in the pouring rain before a building, the whole scene again remaining eerily silent to Li Chin as he hovered above unseen. A group of servants scurried to the door of the building, holding up a canopy on poles to act as a shield against the downpour for the dignitaries who started to emerge. Attired in richly embroidered silk gowns which marked them as of the ruling elite, they gathered beneath the protection of the canopy and were followed by guards escorting a group of six forlorn looking men with their hands tied behind their back.
The guards quickly arranged the men in a rough line before the dignitaries so they faced the gathered citizens. The citizens, drab and soaked by the down pour, had all dropped to their knees in the mud of the street. The bound men were also forced roughly to their knees by the guards. An official emerged from the building accompanied by another Li Chin; causing the consciousness of Li Chin hovering above the scene to inwardly flinch in disquiet at what was to come.
The official made a short statement to the kneeling citizens who watched on impassively, squinting against the rain as it beat against their stoic faces. The official finished his rhetoric, turning to the Li Chin below who stood beside the last of the bound men.
At the back of the crowd a number of men were doing their best to surreptitiously restrain a youth who was protesting at what was about to happen. Li Chin watched the image of his future self draw a sword, holding it poised above his head as he looked to the dignitaries under the canopy. He could see himself ask a brief question of one of the officials, presumably to seek a merciful countermand of his orders. The dignitary gave a slight frown of irritation before making an impatient gesture to continue. Li Chin could clearly see the rain water running down the raised blade, individual drops splashing on his own impassive face as he waited for the official’s response. The condemned men were shivering as they knelt, their hands twisting helplessly in their wet bindings as they awaited their fate. The sword fell and the first man’s head was separated from his shoulders, sent spinning to the ground, the body falling helplessly over it. The corpse’s life blood discoloured the muddied water in front of the remaining bound men, the pounding rain quickly spreading it from one puddle to the next.
Though it was not audible to Li Chin he could sense the collective but suppressed anguish from the gathered crowd as the first man fell. It was obvious their sympathies rested with the condemned, which they were helpless to assist.
The remaining prisoners made token struggles against their bonds but they projected an air of hopeless resignation as Li Chin quickly went down the line, mechanically despatching one after the other. At the end, without looking at the crumpled lifeless bodies on the ground, he used a small cloth to wipe the bloodied blade clean before returning it to its sheath.
The dignitaries rose, anxious to be back inside and out of the rain, while the official who had spoken prior to the execution again addressed the crowd. Without a second look at the headless corpses lying in the mud, the Li Chin below turned and followed the dignitaries into the building.
The consciousness of Li Chin hovering above the gory scene was surprised at how removed his double appeared from the events taking place. He knew that in preparing himself for such a task he would suppress all of his feelings, driving them deep down his internal well. With his emotions controlled, the endless training subjected to his body would take over and to think an action was all that was needed to make it happen in a perfect form. As a spectator watching while he performed the executions he appeared completely indifferent and unmoved by his grizzly task, even to his own eyes. He knew the truth to be different but would never have believed so as an observer to the scene. He appeared to be performing a routine task, before tidying up and moving on. He watched as his double entered the building and disappeared from view, quickly followed by the guards in the square.
The kneeling citizens began to rise and gather around the slumped bodies on the ground. The young man who had earlier been restrained by his companions dropped to the ground, wrapping his arms around two of the bloodied corpses in the mud. The youth’s tears mixed freely with the rain running over his face while some of the crowd gently placed comforting hands on his shoulder as they shared his grief. The silent anguish of the young man and others in the crowd was palpable as the guide again pulled Li Chin forward. The images below blurred to indistinct forms, lost in the rain as they sped on their way.
The guide remorselessly pulled Li Chin from one such scene to the next. Li Chin watched his future self silently slaughter hundreds upon hundreds of defenceless captives over the course of a long life with a mechanical routine, until the Li Chin on the ground had become a mature man beyond his prime. There had been occasions where Li Chin had seen his other self in genuine battles and contests against skilled warriors, but these appeared few and far between. The spectre of what he would do over the course of his life was far removed from the self image and ideals he held so dear. It was made all the more bleak by his whole life being compressed in the series of short tableaux, seemingly filled with nothing but the tyrannical slaughter of the defenceless.
The plethora of executions made Li Chin shrink from what he could s
ee of his future self. There was no honour if the majority of his battles were won against helpless bound men, and what of the ideals which had originally motivated the founding priests of the Temple. The Temple’s elders had only agreed to support the Wang dynasty to reduce the slaughter of the wars raging at the time. Once the House of Wang became the ruling family of the Hansee Empire the Temple had continued to support them, in the belief their support would minimise the deaths of the Hansee people, his people, who would otherwise be ravaged by internal strife. The deaths and deprivations of the unfortunate few, the Temple taught, would be for the greater good of the whole. Watching himself live out his own future as he now had, he saw himself as no more than a slave to codes and oaths of fealty, propping up a privileged despotic. Meanwhile, the majority were held in place by the iron control exerted by the warrior castes bound to their masters, self absorbed with codes of honour and status within their own elite group. A life time of oppression as he had just observed over a truncated period demonstrated no long term good for the many that he could discern. They had merely become trapped in a pit of desperate existence.
Li Chin became aware of a change in the current scene being played out before him, interrupting his train of thought. He mentally leant forward again as he recognised the Temple, realising for the first time he could hear again as they rapidly approached. The air rushed by as they descended to the Temple grounds and he could hear the call of birds and insects as their ascent slowed above the Temple roofs. To Li Chin’s surprise, they did not stop and hover outside the buildings but passed through the outer and inner walls until they were inside a chamber, of what he recognised as the east tower. The chamber had belonged to his old mentor at the Temple, Si Li. Li Chin had spent countless hours practising the formal exercises that formed the basis of the Temple’s martial arts and studying texts from the Temple’s libraries in this room with his old teacher, who he loved like a father. He knew this modest stone room with its simple furnishings well indeed. Little seemed to have changed since he had apprenticed here, which from the events he had witnessed must have been long ago, his lifetime ago.