They were weaving. Threads of color and threads of darkness. It should have been impossible, but he remembered the constellation in their eyes. In them, he saw starlight. They wove starlight in their threads. It formed one wrap at a time—a simple band of cloth. The product of dozens guided by a single soul.
At the center of the circle stood a late-initiation-realm demon. Monstrous growth for one so young. Had the Star-Eye Ancestor predicted this would happen, or was it another anomaly? Clever Dusk put the finishing touches on the crown. It glowed with starlight like Cha Ming’s, but there was much darkness to this crown. Much of it resembled the night sky, leaving only runes of power glowing instead of the entire thing. She placed it on her head, and it shone even brighter. Not with the light of the Builder or the Warrior, but the multicolored light of the Weaver.
That same light filled the emptiness in Stargazer City, and all eyes turned to her. She was young. She wasn’t strong. She hadn’t fought for her crown. Instead, she’d built it herself. No trials were needed for one such as her. Those in the city recognized her leadership in an instant, including the past Stargazer Chieftain.
“I follow Clever Dusk as Queen,” the old chieftain said. Many elders kneeled beside him, and indeed, many of the spectators did as well. A new rhythm ran through the city, informing everyone in earshot of the miracle. The city was filled with staves beating a rhythm of acknowledgment.
But not all were pleased. Cha Ming took note of the few, and realized they bothered him. Call it intuition. A thought suddenly struck him as he inspected each of them, layer by layer, thread by thread. He didn’t have long to inspect them, for a message came through his communication jade. So that’s how it is, Cha Ming thought.
As he read, an elder jumped up the tree and another their platform. He looked to the old chieftain, then Cha Ming, then Sun Wukong in confusion. When he saw Clever Dusk, he kneeled. “The Phoenix Clan has noted our absence and marched on the city. They will be here momentarily.”
“Thank you for informing me, Elder,” Clever Dusk said. She looked to Cha Ming. “It seems the Iridescent Phoenix Clan gives us little choice. I do not crave war, but these are my people.”
“Then may I ask for the honor of resolving this problem, Clever Dusk?” Cha Ming asked.
“Anything for you, Clear Sky,” Clever Dusk said.
“Very well,” Cha Ming said. He turned to the leader of the elders, Empty Death. “Assemble the army.”
“What? We’re fighting?” Mi Fei said. Her hand was on her head, and she was nursing a headache. “After all that?”
“There are a few remaining pieces to this puzzle,” Cha Ming said. “Each of them must be resolved to Captain Xing’s satisfaction. Just know that I wouldn’t start a war if it wasn’t required.” He turned to Elder Empty Death again. “Well? Demons of the Monkey Clan do not run. They face their challenges head on.”
“Yes, sir!” the elder said. There was cold victory in his eyes.
“What are you planning, boy?” Sun Wukong asked. He was weak and fading. Appearing to all these people for so long had taxed him greatly.
“Rest for now, Teacher,” Cha Ming said. “You’ll see. But let me run a thought past you.”
He did so, and the Monkey King grinned. If he was right, it would explain everything.
Chapter 33: A Legacy of Ink and Pain
It was cool and dark where Silver Fish lurked, in a cave beneath the earth. A cloak of inky water hid his presence from unwanted eyes as he walked unseen. He was in a crowd of dark-cloaked men and women. Their faces were hidden, their features obscured. Something savage lingered on them like an unpleasant odor after several days without bathing.
Are you in? Dao God Killjoy asked through the device he was linked to.
Yes, I’m here, Silver Fish said. They don’t see me.
Find out what you can, and if you’re found, escape, Killjoy said. Or use your judgment to call a start to the operation.
This feels wrong, Silver Fish replied. I feel anger in the air.
There was an aura about the crowd, one of malevolence and destruction. It was a familiar feeling, one that he’d only felt in a few places, though it was difficult to remember where or when he’d experienced it.
We need to know what happens to them, Killjoy said. They were all sent here for a reason. Every last one of them. She was speaking of the inkborn. The ones the bandits had been searching for all this time. They’d discovered them by tracking those from the Li Clan who processed other prisoners. That had gotten them here, to this cave.
I’ll let you know if anything happens, Silver Fish said.
The room was dry despite the wetness outside. Odd, since the cave was hidden beneath a lake, where inky rain seemed to try its best to flood them out. Even nature wanted nothing more than to drown these people and wash away their sins. What were they planning? All he knew was that it was bad. It was something Silver Fish knew on an instinctual level. He was a Dao Lord, after all, and his domain was a fusion of understanding of physical laws and demonic presence. He gained great power, but with it came obligations. An obligation to destroy all those present.
“Bring up the prisoner,” one of the cloaked figures said. This one was assuredly male, and he made no effort to disguise his voice. A weak, black-haired demon girl was dragged up onto the upper stage where a runic circle glowed with white runes. He couldn’t read the runic script. He couldn’t understand it. It told a story, but it was not one he could make sense of. His intuition told him it was a dark tale, one that woke children in the night screaming.
They threw the captive into the circle, yanking away the chains as she stumbled inside. The demon was avian. A swallow of some kind, one of the weakest of creatures. Perhaps in time, she would have learned to fly. Her people were not fighters, but scavengers. They did not compete but coexisted.
Normally, her kind were an annoyance. They bickered with other demons in all their light-hearted thievery. They were the joyful cousins of demons that danced upon the winds and skies. But her? She was a shivering wreck. Prey surrounded by predators. She was frightened and encircled.
The room remained mostly quiet, but Silver Fish began to hear a sound. Softly, at first, but it grew louder. The phantom sounds of a thousand drums. They spoke of a fierce war that had raged for countless millennia. There was savagery in the music. He strained his ears, but at no point could he hear any melody.
A sickening power filled the air as those in the room poured something into the circle. That something was a nothingness, a pale energy that caused demonic energy to warp and flee. The plane rejected this energy. It hated it just like it hated them.
The white runes glowed brighter still, and soon, the inkborn girl began to scream. Silver Fish wanted to signal the attack, but he restrained himself. They had to know. It pained him, but he steeled himself against her screams.
Just a little longer, he thought.
His blood boiled as the tempo quickened. This was a prelude, he knew from context. Nothing more. A robed figure walked onto the stage. He shed his robes, exposing white skin and white hair. His eyes were the color of unblemished paper. He was naked, and not a single part of him was marred by color.
“No. No!” The girl tried to back away in fear. But it was useless—the circle blocked her retreat.
If he dares touch her, I’m going in, Silver Fish said. Plan be damned.
Understood, Killjoy said. We’re ready on your mark.
He readied himself to fight against unwinnable odds. Fortunately, the pale demon didn’t touch her. Instead, he breathed in. Slowly and deeply. That was when Silver Fish heard a second scream. It did not come from the girl but from the world itself. It came as the white formation tore something out of the girl—an inky blackness that was all too familiar.
They’re extracting something out of the inkborn, Silver Fish said. Their ink. As for what purpose, I’m not sure.
Ink? Killjoy said.
Yes. It’s… draining out of the g
irl. Her life doesn’t seem to be in danger. She isn’t hurting, but the plane is angry. Oh… so angry.
If she’s not in danger, let the process play out, Killjoy said. She might not be happy about this, but we need to know.
Confirmed, Silver Fish said. He watched in horrified fascination as the ink was ripped out of the girl. Her hair lost its color. The black feathers that adorned her skin also lost their shine. The specter of the black swallow that she was began to fade to a sickly white, and as it happened, the pale man, the White-Eyed Tiger, gained what he’d always wanted. Stripes, missing from birth.
The stripes filled the tiger demon with power. His muscles expanded. His claws lengthened. The color even bled into his eyes. They glowed black, then green, then yellow. Colors that had always been kept from him danced along his skin and fur. The demon was… changing? Yes, the large man was becoming slender. His fur was vanishing, and in its place appeared… feathers?
First red ones, then blue ones. Green ones and brown ones. Gold ones came last before finally, the colors merged and became iridescent. The tiger demon’s eyes lost their sharpness and viciousness. They became golden, piercing, and avian. His white hair turned reddish blue, and he grinned as his white skin gained a light bronzing.
“It is done,” said the cloaked man. “Hide yourself and fulfill your role.”
“I will do as you command,” the transformed man said. “The girl is useless now. Shall I take her out for a meal?”
“Stop wasting time,” the cloaked man said. “We’ll deal with her soon enough.”
Let’s start, Silver Fish said. Any longer, and she’ll be in danger. He heard screams before he heard her confirmation.
“We’re under attack,” a cloaked woman said from the entrance.
“It was only a matter of time before they found us,” the cloaked man replied. “I had hoped we could birth a few more before that time, but…” He stepped over to the circle and smudged it with his foot. The runes faded as though they had never been there. “Destroy the evidence. Painted ones—flee while you can. Unpainted ones, your sacrifices will not be in vain.” He stepped toward the crying albino girl—the evidence he’d just mentioned. “Let me end your suffering.” He drew his sword and thrust it.
The sword didn’t reach her. And neither did the sickening white power that flowed within it. Instead, it broke when it hit a sturdy anchor of inky water. Silver Fish’s demon weapon.
“He knows,” the cloaked man said.
“He knows.”
“He knows.”
They all repeated the message. “New plan. Destroy the intruder. Hide the evidence at all costs.” The two dozen men and women in the room drew their weapons and summoned manifestations. Some were even late-grade demons, ones that even Silver Fish would have trouble fighting.
Fortunately, Silver Fish wasn’t alone. Thanks to Special Night and Killjoy, they’d completely encircled and infiltrated the bandit camp. The lesser bandits were already dead, and his friends were closing in from all directions. Shneraz himself entered the room and dove amidst surprised cultivators like a wolf in a herd of sheep.
It was a slaughter. It was also no less than they deserved. Silver Fish waved his anchor and painted a story with ink and blood. A ship traveled the red seas in search of treasure. A cursed chest opened and damned those who’d opened it for all eternity. Six black birds flew into a setting sun. They burned as they neared it, though the last of them caught fire and became the first vermillion bird in all of history.
Each was a children’s tale. But with special ink, he gave them power. They manifested into techniques that were more vivid than any painting.
Teacher, you were right, Silver Fish thought as he painted yet another picture. This one of a turtle crashing through inky waves. It was roaring and angry. It demanded vengeance for its dead children. It was a particularly frightening story Daoist West Sea had told him when he’d first become his master. He was a painter, yes, but a storyteller. He brought life to myths and fantasies.
Though he’d become skilled in painting, his master had always told him there was something missing in his stories. The emotions he kept bottled up deep inside him. He numbed himself to them, but they were essential, for without them, stories were meaningless.
Silver Fish was still, in many ways, dead. His heart had died with his friends. He’d never been good with people, but the experience had jaded him. He no longer loved. He no longer laughed. He no longer cried. Sometimes, he had trouble feeling even anger. But not today.
Now, in this dark cave full of evil creatures, he’d found what he needed. The rage the angry turtle needed. The turtle was connected to the plane, and it was furious at what those creatures had done to its children. Life and death were one thing, but did they have to steal their color? Their joy? Their happiness? He felt only the tip of the iceberg, but it was enough. It made the story a reality.
The waves and the turtle crashed into what was now obviously a crowd of White-Eyed Tiger Demons and their ilk. A few members of the Origami Clan were there, tigers of the same missing stripe. Was it a coincidence that these clans were allies, or was this evidence of something deeper and more sinister? Silver Fish didn’t know. In fact, he didn’t care. He loathed them all equally.
A blow from his anchor crushed three demons. They did not rise. And when others tried to go for the white-feathered demon, he repelled them with wrathful black waves. A shark appeared and crushed their bones and gnawed upon their flesh. The Concept of Inky Sea manifested.
The room became an ocean of death. All targets of his wrath became characters in their own little horror story. Actually, they weren’t particularly terrible stories, but the type of story in which evil creatures did not have happy endings. The waves raged, and it was only when a Golden Dragon pounded the ground with the butt of his spear that Silver Fish came to. He dismissed his shield and appeared in a room filled with dead demons and cultivators, hugging the colorless girl.
“Holy hell,” Killjoy said as she entered the room. “Leave any pieces we could identify?”
“They deserved what they got,” Silver Fish said, still hugging the girl.
“I’m not arguing with you,” she said. Then she stared at the girl. “Is it just me, or is that girl’s hair changing?”
Silver Fish looked at the girl that he was hugging so tightly. He blinked and realized that black tears were staining her white hair. No. Her light blonde hair. His tears were giving her color.
“It’s a small mercy,” Silver Fish said. “She was inkborn. Now she’s not.”
“At least she’ll fit in,” Killjoy said.
“I’m going to kill every last tiger demon I find,” Silver Fish said.
“Hey, come look at this,” Crying Toad said. He pulled back one of the hoods on a mostly intact figure, revealing white skin and white hair. “That’s not a tiger demon. I see feathers.”
“And scales,” Shneraz said, inspecting another corpse. “This one was once a dragon.”
It was only then that Silver Fish realized what would truly have happened to her. They hadn’t been about to eat the girl. No, far worse than that. They would have made her one of them. Those without color. Those abandoned by the world.
“It’ll be all right,” Silver Fish said, stroking the girl’s hair. His tears continued, and as they did, her skin flushed pink. Her feathers turned slightly golden. Her eyes grew light yellow as well. “Feel any better?”
“Yes,” she said. She shuddered when she saw the corpses. “I want to go home.”
“We’ll take you there,” Silver Fish said. “We should let Clear Sky know about this.”
“Already on it,” Killjoy said. “He’s asking for details. Everything you saw.”
Chapter 34: Battle Lines
The air pulsed with savage excitement as the demons of Stargazer City assembled for war. Their stomping feet and pounding staves reverberated through every building and every clan. Enough was enough. They’d tried talking. Ther
e was nothing left to do but fight those cowards who accused them of wrongdoing.
The Phoenix Clan was despicable. Especially the Iridescent Phoenix Clan. Not only had they taken advantage of the Monkey Clan for so long, but they were shameless thieves who sided with humans. They alone were responsible for the aggression on their borders. They alone were in the wrong. On and on it went. Words accompanying their terrible song.
They filled the air. You didn’t need to hear them spoken. These communal thoughts ran through the city faster than any rumor. Even a human could catch the meaning of their rhythm. The thoughts of monkey clansmen marching under the banner of a king. No, under the banner of a king and queen. Two of them, newly born, just in time.
The burnout, the fear, and the despondence were gone. Cold fury replaced the dull rage of the warriors, and a fire lit up in the builders’ lethargic bones. All affiliated tribes could feel their intensity. Their resentment had built up for far too long. They need an outlet, and that outlet was war.
“Who are we?” Elder Empty Death shouted.
“The Monkey Clan!” they replied. Drums complemented foot and staff and the chanting of ten thousand voices.
“Where do we march?”
“War!”
“What do we want?”
“War!”
“Why do we want it?”
“Justice!”
Cha Ming watched as the forces rallied. This wasn’t something he could stop, for it was born partially out of anger, and partially out of his very presence. The chieftain had been a leader. That much was certain. But he had brought his people to ruin. Now? Now, they had a king. Now, they had a queen. They had true leaders, and these leaders would bring their resentment to bear.
You play a dangerous game, Sun Wukong said.
They can’t be stopped, Cha Ming replied. They must march. I can only hope to channel their aggression.
They marched out of Stargazer City in even ranks, toward the eastern forest that separated them from Stargazer City. It was a long stretch of land, difficult to travel unless you had an army. As they marched, the trees retreated. They didn’t fall, but rather uprooted themselves and moved of their own volition.
Crown of the Starry Sky: Book 11 of Painting the Mists Page 58