Six Celestial Swords

by T. A. Miles

  Contents

  Six Celestial Swords

  Chase the Unicorn. Get a free Ebook.

  Map: Dryth

  Map: Sheng Fan

  Map: The North Western Nations

  Chaos: The Sleeping Dragon

  Prologue: Sun Goddess

  One: The Peacock Departs

  Two: The Barbarian Ship

  Three: Messengers of Fate

  Four: The Moon Blade

  Five: The Price of Sorcery

  Six: Stormbright

  Seven: Anatomy of a Myth

  Eight: Knight of Andaria

  Nine: Whispers of Chaos

  Ten: The Twilight Blade

  Eleven: The Limits of Sorcery

  Twelve: Cold Dawn

  Thirteen: A Place for Everyone

  Fourteen: The Dark Affliction

  Fifteen: Fury Unleashed

  Sixteen: Truth Revealed

  Seventeen: Firestorm

  Eighteen: The Dawn Blade

  Nineteen: The Ice Giant

  Twenty: The Road to Skytown

  Twenty-One: The Fire of Ahjenta

  Twenty-Two: Resurrection

  Twenty-Three: Separation

  Twenty-Four: The Deepwood

  Twenty-Five: Keeper of Shadows

  Twenty-Six: The Night Blade

  Twenty-Seven: Reunion

  Twenty-Eight: Confrontations

  Twenty-Nine: Leaving Skytown

  Epilogue: The Quest Ends...A Journey Begins

  Five Kingdoms Sneak Peak

  About the Author

  More from Raventide Books

  A Raventide Books Publication

  Ames, IA

  Copyright © T.A. Miles 2015

  Map © T.A. Miles 2016, map elements by Ignacio Portilla M.

  Cover Illustration by Charlie Creber: creberart@gmail.com

  Ebook design & formatting by Write Dream Repeat Book Design LLC

  Digital Edition: ISBN-10:0-9975034-1-6

  ISBN-13:978-0-9975034-1-8

  Six Celestial Swords is a work of fiction. All incidents and dialogue, along with all characters are products of the author’s imagination. Any similarities to any person, living or dead, is merely coincidental.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

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  IN THE TIME before man’s first breath the Celestial Dragons swam the heavens, the warmth of their souls glistening in the vast skies above the Throne of Heaven. The Spirit Dragons came into being soon afterward, as dark as the Celestial Dragons were radiant. Unlike their fair kin, who served a purpose simply by shining their light throughout the heavens, these creatures were given a duty. They were charged to become the guardians of the Infernal Regions, the curious oblivion where the Celestial Dragons could not cast their light. At once discontented with their role and resentful of the Celestial Dragons, the Spirit Dragons emerged from the depthless void beneath the Throne of Heaven, like shadows come to life. They warred with their cousins, seeking dominance, blackening the heavens with their presence as the terror and confusion of the dark pool from whence they’d risen followed them into the skies.

  The battle soon drew the attention of the Ancient Gods, creators and protectors of all things. However, the involvement of the gods did not bring resolution, as they were reluctant to destroy their own children. After a fruitless effort to restore order through reason, the gods withdrew and the dragons’ numbers diminished as the terrible struggle continued.

  Before long, victory seemed to be in the Spirit Dragons’ favor. Slowly, the remaining Celestial Dragons retreated from the Throne of Heaven, whereupon the largest of the Spirit Dragons, calling itself Chaos, killed all but two of its fellows and set itself upon the Throne. There it sprawled triumphantly, in open defiance of the gods, who seemed impotent against such transgression. Secure in its victory, the Spirit Dragon coiled its serpentine body upon the throne and gradually drifted to sleep, relying on its two companions to alert it to any intrusion.

  A timeless darkness passed while Chaos occupied the center of the heavens and eventually the other Spirit Dragons slept as well. It was then that the gods acted.

  The great warrior Cheng Yu, wielder of the Jade Emperor’s flaming blade and the Emperor’s personal guard, attacked one of the sleeping dragons with his great spear and set it afire where it lay, leaving it to burn forever in eternal flames. Another was embraced by the pearlescent arms of Mei Qiao and wrapped forever in the soft, iridescent splendor of her robes, never to wake again. Chaos, the third dragon, was simply touched by the Jade Emperor himself and as it slept, the world formed around its curled body.

  Sensing that something was happening to it, the dragon stirred, but it was too late. An imprisoning crust had already formed over its scales and along its spine, vast mountains had cropped up. At first the beast wept in its anguish, and thus were formed the oceans. Then, enraged, it tried to burn its way to freedom, causing the seas to boil and the mountains to erupt as the dragon’s flames turned much of its prison molten. It struggled in the overheated quagmire that suddenly surrounded it, but the surface quickly cooled and hardened, and the world continued to grow.

  Gradually, the dragon calmed and—lulled by the songs of the first birds—it slept once again. Those destroyed by Chaos were given to the Infernal Regions. Light returned to the heavens with the Celestial Dragons and the Jade Emperor was proud as balance came to be restored. However, in his great wisdom the Emperor foresaw a danger. As life continued to flourish in the throne become cradle and man was born, he feared what might happen if Chaos were to awaken yet again. The mortals would have no defense and not even the gods could watch over the sleeping dragon indefinitely. Moved by his emperor’s compassion, Cheng Yu immediately offered his spear. Mei Qiao, inspired by her lover, whom she could never hold again so long as she held the lesser Spirit Dragon, sacrificed her ceremonial sword, known as the most beautiful weapon ever to be forged. Two servants of each god followed suit, giving their awesome weapons to mortal warriors, who were charged to become the guardians of their own world, protectors against the rise of Chaos.

  SONG DA-XIAO, Empress of Sheng Fan, sat centered upon a rug of intricate weave lain over polished stone at the far end of the Palace of Imperial Peace. Her face was immaculately painted in the full ceremonial splendor befitting her divine station above her people while her form was draped in layers of yellow brocade robes. Her feet were tucked beneath the elegant silk garments as she maintained a straight posture, her head just bowed so that her forehead nearly touched the steeple of her fingers while she held her hands together in prayer. She held herself steady in spite of the weight of the elaborate headdress of iridescent beads and gold filigree interwoven with her long, black hair while she extended her concentration beyond the physical world.

  Enormous silk tapestries draped the walls of the chamber around her, depicting images of celestial spirits and symbols which granted power and bestowed luck upon the Empire and its sovereign. Song Da-Xiao needed the blessing of her ancestors now, more than ever. She wanted only to protect the land and its people. That she could not do so troubled her deeply, inspiring tears she determined she would never shed. It was not her place to display weakness or fear. It was her duty to shield Sheng Fan and its people from evil at any cost. She would die for them. If her sacrifice would preserve the land and the people, then it would be made so. Sadly, it would not be so simple.

  In light of a recent and une
xpected onslaught she had but one option, and that was to stay alive. She had retreated to the one place in the Imperial City where she could summon all of the strength inside of her and fortify it. Sequestered under armed and constant guard, she sat alone in the temple and prayed to the celestial spirits, that they and her people would grant her this strength.

  She did not eat, for fear of poisoning and did not sleep, for fear of treachery. She simply sat, meditating while the fasting purified her soul and otherwise emphatically projected her prayers beyond the temple, to the farthest reaches of Sheng Fan, to the one man she had always trusted and never doubted.

  Xu Liang...come back to me safely, my brother.

  AT THE EDGE of the civilized world, Xu Liang opened his eyes. For an instant, the orbs glistened an almost pearlescent shade of blue behind the sheen of unshed tears viewable in the reflective surface of a nearby box. As the afterglow of magic faded, his eyes returned to their natural brown color. The tears were yet held and, in the stillness of his surroundings, they gradually dissipated.

  Xu Liang lifted his head. He sat cross-legged at the center of a circular tent, his slim physique draped in elegantly cut layers of silk. Lush shades of indigo, lavender, and jade were enhanced with embroidered images of long-tailed birds, crescent moons, and delicate blossoms. The fashionable tapestry he wore was interrupted only by his sash and the straight flow of his night-black hair, the ends of which were folded on the floor along with the excess silk while he sat down in meditation.

  Once again, he was leaving Sheng Fan for the ‘barbarian’ outer realms. He might have smiled, if not for the dread weighing in his heart. As it was, his eyebrows drew gradually together across the plane of his brow and his mouth formed a frown.

  Her unhappiness was also his.

  The thought was not permitted to linger. He looked to the tent’s entrance a full second before a man dressed in the colorful, laminated armor of a guard came inside and knelt before him.

  “My lord, the arrangements have been made,” the man said. “We board the Swimming Dragon tonight.”

  Xu Liang nodded once and the guard left. In the resumed solitude, Xu Liang glanced to his right, at a black lacquer wooden box almost four feet in length resting beside his bedroll. He studied the intricate gold and silver filigree that decorated much of the box and then turned his face away, and closed his eyes again.

  Do not worry, my Empress. I will find the others.

  HA MING JIN all but leapt out of his seat, his fist curled triumphantly. There were times when his youth carried him away—he was no boy, but much younger than the previous leader of the Xun Kingdom—and this was such a time. News of his longtime rival’s absence from the battlefield—that at times seemed to exist privately between the two of them—was just about more than he could handle without savage laughter. He’d been waiting years for his opponent to make such a dire error.

  Xu Liang was frequently away from the Empress’ side, but never had he failed to stand by her during truly important occasions. Especially early into her young rule, when more than Xun had been unable to accept a mere girl child as their sovereign.

  Without Xu Liang, who had diligently served her father in the past, Song Da-Xiao would have been banished by now or assassinated, like her birth brother Song Lu. Somehow the scholar she had taken as a sibling by oath, who also served as Imperial Tactician, had been able to convince the Imperial Court of her charismatic virtue and her right to ascension through blood connection with the late Emperor Song Bao. Afterward she was a cautious ruler, following in her late father’s footsteps with exacting efforts and many of the people grew to love her.

  It went without saying that Xu Liang’s tutelage and guidance attributed largely to Song Da-Xiao’s success as a ruler. He had hand-selected the Empress’ bodyguards and personally seen to the banishment, imprisonment—or executions, if necessary—of any and all recalcitrant court officers. Some believed that he had done this for his own comfort, so that he could move on with his physical and magical research of Sheng Fan. Yet, for all of his effort, he seemed never to be too far away. He could be absent from the court for a year only to suddenly return if something threatened the Empress’ security.

  For almost six years Xu Liang’s presence alone had thwarted nearly every rebellion before it truly began. And now, with the threat against the Song Dynasty greater than ever, he had left his beloved Empress. Why? Had he gone to gather military reinforcement from another kingdom—from Ying perhaps, who could still be considered a firm Song loyalist? Or was this simply another of his useless expeditions?

  Ha Ming Jin had never faltered in his belief that Xu Liang would one day expose his true love, not of the Empire but of his magic, and in so doing he would expose the unworthy child he had vainly been protecting. It seemed that day had arrived. Still, it was almost too good to be true.

  Ha Ming Jin looked down at the messenger kneeling before him. “Xu Liang has left the Imperial City? You’re sure?”

  “Yes, Lord Ha. Scouts reported having sighted him in the Yatzen district of Ying just ten nights ago. Heading west, my lord.”

  Ha Ming Jin considered this information aloud. “He’s going to overshoot Dhong Castle if he hasn’t already turned north. Perhaps it is not the Empress’ intent to summon reinforcements from the Northern Kingdom, then.” His lips curled into an ambitious smile before he could truly begin to wonder about Xu Liang’s destination. “Ah, a foolish child. The time to seize control of Sheng Fan has never been better.” He focused again on the messenger. “Send word to the troops at Fa Leng to press the attack. We will continue our northern advance. Finally, the Imperial City will fall and Sheng Fan will unite under the banner of Xun.”

  The messenger pressed his fist loosely against his open hand, nodded obediently, then departed. Alone, Ha Ming Jin carefully allowed a chuckle to escape him.

  Xu Liang...always fanning your feathers for all to see, like the vain peacock you are. You’ll regret your arrogance this time. You will see that your confidence is misplaced in that child.

  LI TING WAS a small fishing community. It provided almost solely for itself. On occasion a few junks made the journey up or down the Tunghui river to barter with another village that specialized in something else, such as raising oxen or growing rice. These small places existed as siblings sharing responsibilities, with the head of their household naturally being the Empress. If there was discord among them, she would resolve it. When there was harmony, the villages prospered and the Empress was proud. Her pride showed now through Xu Liang’s quiet smile as he rode along the riverbank and looked out at the last boats on the water taking advantage of what light remained as the sun set.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Xu Liang said to the man riding beside him, one of eight bodyguards assigned to him by the Empress. Under Emperor Song Bao he had frequently traveled with half as many, but Song Da-Xiao was young yet and worried overmuch for those who fancied themselves her protectors.

  The addressed bodyguard looked briefly out at the water and the darkening sky. All too quickly his eyes were back on the open ground to the other side of their small caravan, which led to a thick stand of trees. “Perhaps we should have waited for full cover of darkness, Master Xu. This area feels too open with the tree line so near.”

  “Lord Xu Liang has asked you a question,” someone else said. The elder bodyguard had traveled with Xu Liang in the past.

  The reprehensive tone the senior guard used—if not the words themselves—brought an abrupt look of apology to the younger guard’s features.

  Before the youth could speak, Xu Liang said, “Perhaps you’re right.” He waited just long enough for his young guard to agonize over how he should respond to such a statement coming from his superior, then continued in quiet, nonabrasive tones. “Maybe there is some measure of carelessness to my actions. However, this journey is not of leisure, nor of stealth, but one of haste. We must accept some measure of risk in order to achieve our goal.”

&nbs
p; The young guard inclined his head a bit nervously, clearly wanting to look elsewhere—either at the nearby forest to watch for assassins or simply away from his master altogether, though he dared not before he’d been excused to do so.

  He was so young, Xu Liang thought; easily upset, in spite of his skill and training. True youth too often inspired recklessness.

  “We must all be on our guard,” Xu Liang concluded.

  The young man went back to scanning the open land preceding the village and the relative quiet of the caravan resumed.

  At that time, Xu Liang closed his eyes in concentration. Sensing nothing out of the ordinary, he opened them again and looked to the upcoming village. Small wooden buildings dotted the riverside. Lamplight glowed within many of them while torches lit the docks.

  Among the four fishing junks floating idle beside the village was the Swimming Dragon, whose captain had graciously agreed to charter the Empress’ envoy all the way to Ti Lao Bay for minor compensation, considering that he did not realize precisely who he’d agreed to charter. It may have been obvious that Xu Liang was no commoner, nor a typical lord for that matter, but this far from the Imperial City there were very few who recognized him by his face alone. No one, in fact, who didn’t belong to the immediate presiding family in Du—the territory Xu Liang’s company would shortly be entering once they began their journey along the Tunghui.

  Naturally, every part of Sheng Fan belonged to the Empire, but years ago a certain distribution of power became necessary in order to ensure that the people were properly governed and that the land was better defended. The decision had been made before Xu Liang’s services began in the Imperial Court. It had been made, in fact, before his birth. Had he been able to serve at the time he would have strongly advised against the Five Kingdoms Resolution. In his opinion it was no resolution, but a prelude to disaster. He blamed the Kingdoms for the Song family’s current struggle.

  Since the lords of the outer regions of Sheng Fan had been given a taste of the Dynasty’s power, it seemed they now wanted more of it. Or as if they’d like to spit it back and create something new that they would force all of Sheng Fan to swallow—under a new banner and a new emperor, of course.