Cog Cultivator (Xianxia)

[torac]

The more I think about it, the more I see your point. I think if it becomes really distracting, I'll change it to 'Yay' or omit it altogether.

What do you think would be a fair alternative?

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The book is talking about humankind, and the intended audience is probably humans. You could theoretically just use the biblical "Ye" to address them.

"And so did Man reign in the Kingdom of Heaven, with the Mandate of the Divine allowing him to commune with the Tian (Gods) of the earth and of the skies, who crafted Man in their own image."

He turned to images of a hierarchical, pyramid-like structure, with mortal men standing at the top and all other beasts of the earth beneath him, ending with base stone and precious minerals at the foundation.

"Ye he shall rule over all living things as the avatar of the Gods, and champion their worship throughout the earth. He shall walk with them in their golden halls, and man shall know that he art chosen."

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"Ye shall rule over all living things […] Ye shall walk with them in their golden halls, and man shall know that he art chosen."

Directly addressing the reader, then switching back to third person. Slightly clunky, but suitably bombastic.

 

[IronLung]

The Disciples of the Eternal Dragon met the eyes of the Tiger-warrior.

"Brother Fai-Deng," Feng-Lung began, tentatively. "This is an intrusion on ground sacred to the Eternal Dragon Sect."

"Brother Feng-Lung," the Tiger replied. "You might tell that to your little toy."

XJ-V stiffened. He had expected the boy to come after him. He had expected retribution for the embarrassment Fai had suffered at his hands. But he had not expected it to come so soon.

"Brother," he said, stepping forward and digging his heels into the hard stone floor of Dragonpyre Hearth. "We do not need to –"

A bolt of lightning shot from the Tiger's flaring hand in an instant. So fast – too fast – that XJ-V was thrown back against the Dragon fresco and fell to the ground in a smoking heap. He stiffened, tried to stand, but felt his systems fail him. His limbs would not respond.

"How does it feel, Cog?" Fai-Deng whispered. "How does the sting of a true warrior feel?"

XJ-V begged his sensors to respond to no avail. His eyes blurred. The electric charge burning through his metallic veins had shot every receptor in his body.

"Since our last meeting," Fai said. "I have thought only of your corpse. It is a beautiful dream, seeing you crumpled and debased before me. It was that dream I held on to as I redoubled my training. Now, my Lightning Claw-Spear has been perfected. And it will finish you.

He began walking forward like a predator stalking his wounded prey and would likely have slung another lightning bolt at the inanimate Cog if Feng-Lung had not stepped forward and launched a gout of fire at his feet.

Fai-Deng dropped into a roll and rose, looking with animal fury at Feng-Lung's Bow Stance.

"Walk away, Brother Fai," the young Disciple said.

The boy rose from the ground slowly, and both he and the Dragon Disciple began pacing around the other like two ancient duelists before an earth-shattering battle.

Fai-Deng spat on the sacred grounds of the hearth.

"You dishonor the name of your Sect, and all of Ramor-Tai," he snarled at Feng.

"Does the Sect of the Tiger permit attacks upon fellow Disciples, now?" Feng replied, unfazed. "Perhaps we should ask Master Yoma-Dur."

"If you call that thing Brother," Fai replied with barely controlled scorn. "You will not leave this room alive."

The silence that then descended upon the Hearth was so still that XJ-V thought he may have completely blanked out. If Arha had not suddenly interrupted with a shrill shriek of fright, he would have assumed his systems had finally shut down.

"This boy is mad!" the Huli screamed. "Mad, mad and uuuuugly!"

"Arha," XJ-V said in all but a whisper. "Find…Master…Longhua…"

The fox-spirit nodded with uncharacteristic determination and sped towards the door.

"Stay where you are, demon!"

Fai-Deng's foot crackled with the coiling energy of another lightning strike aimed right at the fleeing creature and would have blasted the tiny fox to ash if Feng-Lung had not performed a masterfully timed Flaming Dervish kick that singed the Tiger's head and knocked him against the far wall, giving the spirit leave to pass.

"Your battle is with me, Tiger!" he shouted.

Fai-Deng rose with slow, quiet fury, blue veins of lightning surrounding his smoking body as he Arha phased through the great doors of the hall. He cracked his knuckles, clenched his bandaged fists, and snarled at the boy standing before him.

And though Feng didn't move a single muscle in the face of his fellow Cultivator, XJ-V could tell that, in this moment, he was afraid.

"Have it your way, Brother."

The Tiger's form blinked out of existence and appeared directly behind young Feng, who spun just in time to block a vicious flurry of jabs aimed at his chest and neck both. Fai-Deng struck with speed that could not have belonged to a mortal man. XJ-V could barely keep up with his strikes, never mind Feng's timed counters that were managing to block them.

As Feng's arm came up to block perhaps the twentieth punch, the soft flesh of his fingers met nothing but air, and the foot of the Tiger Disciple came up from his left side to deliver a kick that knocked against his ribcage and winded him.

Feng staggered back, readying a Dragon's Tooth that would blow the Tiger away. But Fai was quicker. He pounced on the young Feng without giving the boy a chance to recover, clawing at his face and spinning to launch several arcs of lightning at his body through his feet. The form of the Tiger seemed nothing but a blur of snapping sapphire light, singing through the air and delivering a payload of electrified energy directly at Feng-Lung's chest with both his open palms. The boy flew back against the fresco of the Eternal Dragon and slipped with a groan of pain to the ground.

XJ-V watched the battle with eyes that blared with fear. His chest felt heavy, and his whole chassis ached as he tried to move. If even just the simple touch of the Tiger's lightning could lay him so low, the effect of a full-frontal, unblocked attack on Feng-Lung would be unthinkable.

"Stay down!" Fai screamed at the cloud of smoke that covered Feng-Lung's inert body. "Only one must die tonight."

He walked away from the body after his command, hand still sending sparks flying uncontrollably across the wall frescos, scarring the stone body and limbs of the Eternal Dragon.

XJ-V looked into his burning eyes, seeing the fury that had been locked in the boy since their first meeting in the courtyard before Longhua's chambers. He saw no compassion beneath those pupils. He saw no quiet reservations about his striking down his Brother Disciple. There was nothing but hatred – a white-hot flame, burning eternally and only for him.

And yet it was a far hotter flame that struck the boy's back and sent him collapsing to his knees, screaming with animal agony.

Both he and XJ-V looked towards the column of smoke that was now worn by Feng-Lung like a shield, obscuring all but his two burning hands wrapped in threads of flaring carmine.

"You are not the only one who's training has improved, Fai-Deng." Feng-Lung stated as he walked like a living pillar of ash and ruin towards him.

Fai roared as he brought both his arms forward, directing the lightning flowing through his body to fly towards Feng-Lung's body, only to see it merely coil around his smoke-plume and then dissipate entirely into thin air.

Fai-Deng stood back, grunting with grim satisfaction.

"The Charred Pillar," he said. "A Third-Grade Earth technique. I would be impressed, Feng-Lung. But this display only makes your ignorance all that more disappointing."

"You are a fool to persist in this course, Fai!" Feng-Lung shouted back through the protective black haze that surrounded him. "The Master will be here soon! You will have no choice but to back down, then."

Fai-Deng nodded with a nonchalant grunt.

"True," he said, licking his scarred lips. "I suppose I must simply kill you faster, then."

Without warning Fai surged forwards with unnatural speed, bridging the gap between both men in an instant and effortlessly dodging Feng's firebolts.

Feng…XJ-V thought, becoming struck at the idea took hold of him. You are holding back…

He watched as the maddened Tiger threw himself through Feng's protective cloud and aimed a punch straight at his face that had him on the defensive again.

He can't use his lightning strikes….so he is relying on raw strength…

Feng countered with a series of fiery blocks that should have seared the flesh from the Tiger's bones. Even at the other side of the hallway, XJ-V could feel the heat. But there was something…limited in their power. Every time they met the sheer, brutal strength of the Tiger's strikes, XJ-V could feel that Feng Lung was not allowing himself to throw a punch.

You don't want to kill him…

So when Fai took Feng's head in both his claws and brought his knee up to crack the boy's jaw, XJ-V snarled with slowly building fury.

That's your weakness…

He saw the black smoke plume vanish as Feng struck back against Fai. But it was a strike that swept the boy's legs, attempting to make him lose his footing. Attempting to do nothing but buy time, and knock the boy back to the ground as though this were simply another practice Kata.

But this was no practice. And when Fai's body did hit the ground, his arms reached out to grab Feng's leg and send an electric shock up the boy's body that lit up the entire Hearth with its strength.

XJ-V watched as Feng-Lung fell, his body twitching with stray electricity.

"Pfft," Fai spat, standing over him with both his fists still clenched, licking the blood from his grazed chin. "You could never best me, Feng. You know the techniques, but you lack the spirit of your Sect. You aren't strong enough to stand among us, even if you are a human."

Feng looked up to see the fist of his Brother raise to deliver its final strike at his exposed neck.

But, once again, the Tiger's strike did not come.

Instead, his hand felt the sting of the Dragon's Tooth's full power, and he looked down in shock to see the burning threads of his bandages fall to the ground.

And the sound of two metal feet planting themselves behind him.

He turned to see XJ – the object of all his unbridled scorn.

The Cog stood locked in a perfect Fuhubu – a Crouching Tiger stance – smoke-trails sailing from his steel-plated fist.

"You insult me using that stance, machine," Fai said as his lips folded up into a smirk of vengeance. "Is your wish for death really so great?"

XJ-V's vision became that of a tunnel locked on a single target. A red mist had overtaken him the second he had seen Feng-Lung fall. The flame beneath his breast was now in full bloom – the same flame that he had finally been able to channel into pure, living fire.

For that was his purpose: he was a war machine, was he not?

He looked upon Fai-Deng and tightened his fists, watching as the boy laughed in his face.

It was time to do what he was built for.

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[The Stormbringer]

Another epic duel! This one far less in our hero's favor! Thanks once again for sharing.

 

[IronLung]

Another epic duel! This one far less in our hero's favor! Thanks once again for sharing.

Click to shrink...

And thank you for being an awesome reader.

 

[IronLung]

Fai-Deng struck first, his fists flaring with energy as he launched two steaks of lightning at his face.

In an instant his body reacted, both his hands surging with the power of his internal engine, and he deflected both strikes with two counter Dragon Tooth strikes. Still, the impact of the light against his flames sent him flying back, and though his stance remained unbroken, the Tiger's eyes were the next thing he saw.

His fists' impact were like two gongs slamming against his skull. He felt his body buckle as the electrified jabs smashed against his chest, and only after three attacks found their mark was he able to counter with a flaming roundhouse kick that sent the Tiger Disciple to the ground.

The Dragon's Tooth…he could feel the power of the flame flow through all his body, energizing his limbs. He channeled it almost without thinking. Thought, right now, was secondary to the pure rage that sang through him unhindered with every sting of the Tiger's strikes.

Fai-Deng struck low, attempting to sweep his legs with a spin kick that caught XJ-V's left foot as he jumped to avoid the blow. He saw Fai's downward strike as soon as he hit the floor, looking up to see the Disciple bathed in sapphire threads of his paralyzing lightning – lightning that would travel directly through his chassis and crush his internal systems like a vice.

He saw his death. He saw it, and his limbs reacted.

As the fist of the Tiger came down his rose to clench his wrist, and the light of the Disciple's hand fizzled out into the charged air.

But Fai had anticipated the trick. He pushed through with a side kick that slammed into XJ-V's skeletal ribs and sent him tumbling to the far-left wall of the hearth.

Though he felt his legs buckle beneath him, XJ-V stood ready. His eyes were focused. Present. Any pain he felt was absorbed by the fire burning within him.

As Fai lunged again with a scream of rage spilling from his lips, XJ-V felt the power of the Qi flow through him. This time he watched, he waited. He looked into the eyes of the Tiger and anticipated. The hatred that burned in there was giving away more than the boy could know.

XJ-V met his flurry of blow with a series of high blocks that dimmed his Lightning Claw strikes with every impact. Slowly the power of the Tiger began to fade away, even as the intensity of his punches never faded once. XJ-V kept his hands high, shielding his face, taking in the power of the Tiger's strikes like a living shock-absorber, and when the Tiger spun to deliver a series of wild, frenzied kicks, XJ-V felt the hard stone of Dragonpyre's wall on his back.

His body was failing him. But so was Fai's. The threads of power arcing through his veins was visibly thinning – like a series of shrinking barbed wire that was slowly dissolving with every block the Cog made.

He took it all. All the punishment the Tiger sent flying at him. And when the boy stopped to reel back and shoot a final beam of light at his chest, he caught the sight of Feng-Lung still lying on the ground, his body twitching as the lightning of the Tiger still surged through him.

And, without a single word, XJ-V lowered his guard.

The Tiger's claw found his chest. It found it and broke apart the front of his metal chassis completely, throwing charred pieces of his steel plating aside and singing every piece of wiring that covered the engine at the center of his being.

The smile that stretched across Fai-Deng's face was that of a child who had been given some long sought-after gift.

"You – see – your death!"

XJ-V felt the fist of the Tiger bury itself deep within his chest until it found the fiery core of his being.

Fai clenched his teeth and focused his Qi – channeling everything he had into a final, decisive discharge of energy that would short circuit XJ-V completely.

"Vengeance!" he roared, his face filled with the otherworldly light of his channeled power.

But the satisfaction of the Tiger was short-lived. In the moment of his victory, his fingers tensed. The lightning that had served him well thus far now shrank to nothing, and a very different power now traveled up his arm from the points of his fingertips.

XJ-V closed his eyes and re-directed his Qi. He felt it pool beneath his heart, and from within his broken chest and the sea of wiring that hung from his innards, an infernal light seethed.

Fai-Deng's eyes went wide as he watched the fire from the Cog's chest creep up his arm and sear the skin from his bones. He felt muscle crisp and melt away. He felt his fingers coil and turn to ash within the Cog, and as he moved to retract his fist, he felt the Cog's firm hands fly to clamp down on his arm and hold it in place.

"L-let me go!"

The shriek was that of a slowly dying creature. XJ-V's eyes glowed with red-hot intensity. In the eyes of the wriggling, flopping Tiger, he was a demon bathed in an infernal light.

The feet of the Tiger struck out at the Cog's waist. His free fist beat against him, tearing at his shoulder and arms, flailing out and striking at anything – anything that could release him from the grip of this beast of steel and fire.

But all his strikes were in vain. He had used up his Qi. The Universal Dao had forsaken him.

"Ah-ah-AHHHHH!"

He fell to his knees before the Cog and screamed with rabid intensity. His scream echoed through the halls before the sight of the Eternal Dragon. His legs began to spasm uncontrollably. His eyes pleaded up at the Cog, now. The hatred that had once filled them was gone. The Cog saw only a desperate child now – not a tiger, but a cub. A cub wailing for its life.

XJ-V's hands shook as he felt the boy's skin strip away within his chest. He looked into the boy's eyes through the red-haze of fury that dominated his mind and knew, as only his kind could, that he could let his fire blaze and flare through the boy's body. He could take his head in his hands and watch his flesh crisp and peel away, until there was nothing but those pleading, pitiful eyes.

Those eyes…

Eyes that now showed him a different person. Someone without any hatred at all. Someone who looked at something beyond them, standing tall, a barrier they could not pass through.

XJ-V's hands began to shake as he watched the boy's pupils dilate. He felt the life of Fai-Deng fade away beneath him.

But more than that, he felt the boy's fear. And then he saw something all so clearly:

Symmetry.

He unclenched his hands and let the boy slip from grasp. Fai freed his charred arm from the Cog's chest as the flame that burned at its center now calmed to a soft, benign glow.

The boy stumbled back and fell to his knees, looking with strange, unbelieving wonder at the blackened twig that was his arm.

It was at that moment that the doors of the hearth were thrown open with power, revealing two figures in pristine robes – one of crimson, one of tan.

"M-Master…" Feng-Lung groaned from the ground.

Both men stepped slowly into the hearth, saying nothing. Their eyes equally trained on the two Disciples in the center of the room, one kneeling before the other, though both their faces were transfixed with fear.

"Finish it," Fai-Deng whispered from the floor, completely ignoring the entrance of the two Masters.

XJ-V's feet wavered.

"I said finish me!" the boy screamed again, letting his lifeless arm fall. "I will not live as an invalid! I will not live bearing the mark of your curse, demon!"

The Cog could barely move. The red-haze of his anger had long ago abated. It was as though XJ-V had only just entered the room along with the Masters.

Through a very new agony he looked at his hands. He could not control their shaking. He could not look passed them to the eyes of the boy again. He knew those eyes would remain in his mind for a very long time.

"DO IT, COG!"

"…no."

XJ-V turned away from the boy.

"Dragons do not kill Tigers."

Amidst Fai-Deng's subsequent cries from the ground, XJ-V simply walked away. He did not look at Feng-Lung's astonished face as he rose from the ground and tried to reach him. He did not look at Longhua and Yoma-Dur's strict faces as they followed him.

"Master," he said as he passed Longhua. "I go to the dark."

He did not stay to see his Master's response, nor did he hear anything more. He simply walked back out into the rain.

He did not stop until he was back inside his room, and he felt his systems finally shut down.

###

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[The Stormbringer]

I can't say Fai-Deng didn't want that fate, but I'm still very curious as to what drove him there. Surely it was more than the knowledge of Cogs and their past betrayal. Who did he lose to a Cog?

 

[IronLung]

"Come on."

He approached the peak of the mountain, pushing through all stray twigs and thorns in his path, throwing off the ghostly visages of burning villagers, broken Cogs, and the banner of the golden eagle.

"Come on…"

He saw the shadow at the peak. It turned, eyes ignited with fury.

"Come on!"

His feet wavered on the path when he saw what the shadow-fiend was holding in its hand – the ashen remains of Fai-Deng's arm.

Then he fell, surrounded by the cacophonous laughter of the Cultivators who had gone before him.

Again.

And again.

And again…

"NO!"

He opened his eyes to his stone bedchamber, his reflection staring back at him with unbridled frustration – both fists clenched and shaking on the ground.

XJ-V looked down to see the two small craters beneath his hands.

He slumped back against the wall, refusing to look at his fingers any further. They were tools of torture. Painbringers.

And so was he.

His head hung low, listening to the unmoving world outside his chamber, hearing nothing, seeing darkness. It had been almost an entire day since he had locked himself away, only appearing once to find out how Feng-Lung was doing. The boy had recovered, and so as far as XJ-V was concerned that was all he needed to know.

Mah-Jung had knocked on his door to request entrance and had been met with a curt refusal. The Cog was alone. Finally alone – just like the world wanted.

He could not blame the world for its belief. In the face of The Sundering, in the face of the danger he represented, in the face of seeing his own two hands debase a fellow Cultivator before him as though they acted independently from his mind – he understood. He was dangerous, and for the first time in his life he cursed his Creator for making him and imprinting these heretical desires within his breast. He wished he could look within himself and tear the inferno billowing within his chassis. That thought alone was what was keeping him here in Ramor-Tai. To leave this body as a Cultivator was his only hope…

A knock came at his door that was followed by footsteps creaking on the broken floorboards of his room.

"Feng-Lung," XJ-V said without looking up. "I do not wish to see anyone."

But the voice that answered him could not be further from Feng-Lung's jovial tone.

"Well," the voice said. "It seems you have become bolder still, XJ-V. You would turn the Master you begged to teach you away?"

The Cog's eyes flew to the doorway where, resplendent in his crimson robes bearing the spiraling symbol of the Eternal Dragon, Master Longhua stood.

"Master," he began tentatively. "The hour is late."

Longhua scoffed at his student. "A Master of a Sect goes where he must, when he must," he replied. "Right now, I must be here."

"Then you have come to do what you must, as you will," XJ-V replied, bowing gracefully. "If I am to leave Ramor-Tai, I will do so tonight."

He did not see the face of his Master above him. In truth, he couldn't meet the gaze of those old eyes, wiser beyond even the logic matrix that comprised his consciousness. He feared the disappointment that must be radiating from those eyes.

So, when he felt his Master do nothing but walk past him towards his window, his face twisted in confusion.

"Such a bold Disciple you are, XJ-V," he said with a little hoarse chuckle. "You, a mere Cultivator of the first Body Temperer rank, believe you can know the mind of a Master of the Internalized Ego. In time, you will realize just how frustrated your brashness makes me."

XJ-V looked towards his Master, watching his shoulders sag as he sighed at the full moon glowering down at them both.

"Rise, Disciple," he said. "I take no pleasure in your prostration."

Slowly, XJ-V did as he was bid, watching his Master breathe with slow, calm deliberation like a sleeping dragon taking in the night air above its lair.

"What I have done to Fai-Deng is inexcusable," he said. "I deserve punishment."

"Life," Longhua said. "Is punishment enough."

Before XJ-V could surge forwards and command his Master cease speaking in riddles (for all the good that would do) Longhua continued without moving a single muscle.

"I shall tell you a tale," he said. "Some Disciples say that listening to the stories of their old Masters is a kind of punishment. If you too feel this is so, then accept this as your penance if you still have ears to hear me."

The long sleeve of Longhua's arm rose to draw a series of smoky etchings in the air before the window, summoning trails of wispy, emerald-green flames along with them as though he were a child simply drawing chalk figures on a foggy pane of window glass.

The shapes began to take form before XJ-V's eyes, and as he marveled at his Master's effortless control of his Qi, he saw the figure of a boy waving at him, and several larger shapes that moved like flaming marionettes with the Master's story:

"Once," he said. "There was a boy who knew only suffering in this world. The boy was beaten by his parents, abused and ridiculed by friends, and shunned by girls he took idle fancies to. He suffered indignities the likes of which children should never see. Then, one night, as he lay on the cold stone floor of his home, he prayed to the Gods for deliverance.

The child's voice was quiet as he did this. But this voice that answered him was not.

Zhuro, God of Fire, appeared before the boy, his muscles and veins pulsing with living, breathing torrents of flame.

'I shall place a seed of my power within you, weak thing,' he said. 'You shall grow powerful – powerful enough to slay your enemies.'

The boy stopped praying suddenly and looked down at his hands. Where once he had fingers, now there were nothing but two burning gouts of flame that blazed above his wrists.

At first, the boy was frightened. Then, he remembered the word of Zhuro – that he had been given these powers to slay his foes. And slay them he did.

He killed his mother and father first, then burned down his home and with it all his terrible memories and neglect. He found the boys who mocked him for his sickly appearance, and set them ablaze. He found the girls who rejected his advances and torched their hair till their scalps were barren. These things he did without remorse, but as his evil village burned around him, he was still not satisfied.

The boy walked the Wasteland then, burning villages and farms alive. He went from town to town and slaughtered every person who did not give him the things he wanted. He kept burning until his legs were tired from carrying him so long without food, and so he entered a local inn and demanded to be fed.

The innkeeper brought him lavish feasts of mantou, fried rice, and roasted duck. Suckling pig and sour pork were thrown at him that these treats might appease the boy. Baijui and Huangjiu were poured down his throat by all the villagers so that he might take pity and leave them alone.

But much to the child's dismay, he found that all food merely turned to ash within his mouth. All liquids merely fizzled away before they reached his tongue. He flew into a fit of rage and killed every villager to the man. Then, he walked away to a corner of the world to die.

'I am cursed!' he wailed. 'I am cursed by an evil God!'

He walked for a long time against dire winds and storms, his body becoming cripple and weak from starvation and dehydration. Only his hands remained powerful. But with all the power in the world, still he suffered unbearably.

Eventually he collapsed beside a small pool of water and looked upon his horrid reflection. He closed his eyes, hating his appearance, and tried uttering another desperate prayer.

This time, another, far different God heard his plea.

The water of the pool rose up before him and began to take on the features of an angelic woman's face – lips full and beautiful, liquid hair tumbling down her shoulders. Chest buxom and decorated with beads of frozen rain. The child gasped as he recognized who this person was – tranquil Gonli, the Goddess of water.

'Poor child,' she said with the whisper of a loving mother. 'I shall free you of the burden of power my horrid brother has forced on you, if thou wishest?'

The child nodded desperately, and came forward to embrace Gonli, his savior. His hands seeped into her liquid body, and when he awoke the next morning, his human hands were returned to him.

He rose steadily, excitement overcoming his frail physical state, and he ran as quick as he could to the nearest village to eat his first meal in ages.

And when he passed the town gate, a single arrow found the back of his neck.

He was buried in an unmarked grave by the villagers, who each took turns to spit on his corpse. To this day, the boy's name is not remembered. But it is said that the Gods are still laughing at his grave."

Longhua let the spectral images he'd summoned to pantomime the story disappear abruptly. He turned back to XJ-V's bemused eyes.

"This story, like most told to children of the Wasteland, has more than a single meaning. Can you grasp it?"

XJ-V blinked absent-mindedly.

"Power did not help the boy," he said eventually. "He was still weak."

"Wrong," Longhua said. He seemed to enjoy XJ-V's reaction to this, for he said it again. "Wrong. You who would know the mind of a Master cannot even comprehend children's tales. Now do you know my frustration?"

"Master," XJ-V began. "I do not –"

"Bah," Longhua said, stepping forward massively and fixing the Cog with his blazing eyes. "I shall take pity on you this time. The moral of the story is this: power can affect this world, but means nothing to a mind wrapped up in thoughts of vengeance. The answer is not to get rid of one's power, but to understand how it might be used."

XJ-V did not even blink. His Master had never seemed this focused before. It was as though, even through all his confidence, the old man within was begging the robot to hear his words. To feel the emotion he was attempting to communicate. To listen. To learn. To understand.

And in that instant, XJ-V did understand something: he had seen eyes screaming a similar desire at him only a few hours ago…

"We are shaped by this world," Longhua continued. "We were once nothing but the pawns of thirsting Gods that cared not a jot for our lot in life. They grew jealous of our autonomy and butchered our world as punishment for our insolence. But we prevailed. We endured. We did so because those of us with power chose to use it for the right means. We chose not to work against the tides of our world, but with them. We chose to build, not to destroy."

He stepped forward and placed his hand, old, but firm, on XJ-V's shoulder.

"Disciple," he said. "You have power within you. You fear it. You fear it because you know what it can bring upon this world. But the Gods do not master you. Your spirit is not shackled to anything but your self. Your self, as you stand before me now, or the self you see standing on the peak of the dark mountain as you fail to walk the Dao. Now, just as we mortals did during the time of The Sundering, you must decide: what will you choose?"

XJ-V took in his Master's words with a strange mix of pride and embarrassment. Pride, because he swelled with joy to see his Master speak to him in this way. It was as though he were telling him to stay, in his own way. More than that – he wanted him to stay.

XJ-V's embarrassment was born of the fact that he finally realized what his Master's eyes had reminded him of.

"Master," he said. "There is something I must do."

Longhua nodded as though this statement referred to something entirely too obvious. "Of course there is."

"Where is –"

"He is with Master Yomar-Dur in the Hall of Symmetry," Longhua responded hastily. "The Master of the Tiger means to exile him for his impudence."

XJ-V nodded. "Then I must be on my way."

Without another single word, the Cog sped out of his chamber and sprinted across Ramor-Tai's courtyard with such speed that the other Disciples of the Dragon assumed he may have finally succumbed to insanity. Whilst they deliberated on how such an affliction might affect the mind of a Cog, however, Master Longhua simply sighed again at the window.

"Leaving his Master without so much of a bow," he said.

Unbeknownst to anyone, perhaps even to himself, the old Master of the Dragon then smiled.

"Such a bold, brash machine."

###

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[The Stormbringer]

Thanks for another chapter! I really am growing to like Master Longhua and his interactions with XJ-V, they have a fun dynamic. And, I think that Longhua enjoys having a bold and brash disciple to shake things up a bit.

 

[IronLung]

XJ-V strode purposefully across the great courtyard of Ramor-Tai, intent on reaching the Tiger Sect's commune.

Those Disciples who saw the machine dared not approach him, knowing that a raging dragon should not be impeded unless one wished to be burned.

Only one being dared to approach the determined form of the metal man.

Her name was Arha.

"XJ-V!" the little fox-spirit called. "Thank goodness you are well!"

The Cog spared her a fleeting smile before continuing on his war path.

"Yes, Arha. Thank you for finding the Masters. You saved both me and Feng-Lung, in more ways than you think."

Arha ran to catch up with his relentless pace, and managed, with some exertion, to hop onto his shoulder and nuzzle his steel cheek.

"You sure did a number on that angry little man!" she cried. "Arha has not seen such hatred from a Cultivator of the mortal realm before! He meant to kill you."

"Yes, Arha. He meant to kill me."

The Huli nodded sat back, making herself as comfortable as she could on her chosen machine-man.

Then she started to notice how the buildings changed around her. Where once there were the great stone frescos, stout mounds, and glittering chrysanthemums marking the territory of the Eternal Dragon Sect, now the buildings were barren. Windowless. Devoid of the light the early morning sun was casting.

And the Disciples that observed the coming of the Cog did so out of the corner of their eyes as they continued their bouts of martial combat, each man and boy striking the other with quick jabs that bit at the air and stung their opponents' bodies.

They did not have to acknowledge the Cog or his spirit for long. For upon their slim-fitting Gis, the cold eyes of a predatory tiger did their staring for them.

"XJ-V," she said. "I think we are in the Tiger Sect compound! You must have taken a wrong turn."

XJ-V shook his head as he pushed past all the warriors who sought to question him.

"No, Arha," he said. "I am precisely where I need to be."

The little spirit blinked up at him with its bulbous, onyx eyes.

"Why would you come to the place where the man who tried to kill you lives? The man who (as Arha hears it) is about to be sent away to the bad wasteland?"

"Because, Arha," XJ-V said. "I want him to stay here."

As they approached the ironclad doors of Master Yoma-Dur's personal chamber, and XJ-V ascended the steps that lay between two regal statues of his Sect's patron spirit, Arha sighed.

He must be human after all, she thought. She had heard of the strange affliction humans dubbed 'insanity' before, but thought that it was a disease that afflicted only beings of weak, supple flesh and bone…

I must not lose my metal-man! She monologued like a damsel in distress. Perhaps he can still be reasoned with…

"Hail, XJ-V," a voice called out from above the great steps leading to Master Yoma-Dur's abode.

XJ-V looked up to see Kai-Thai standing above him. A little less jovial than usual.

"Hail, Kai-Thai," he responded. "Is Brother Fai-Deng still with Master Yoma-Dur?"

The normally jolly Cultivator scratched his grizzled chops and nodded his head sadly. "Yes," he said. "For now."

XJ-V nodded at that, and continued on his way. He then felt Kai-Thai's hand upon his shoulder, but not, he sensed, in threat.

"Brother," he said. "I know what you are trying to do. But Master Yoma-Dur's mind is not easily changed. Brother Fai has gone on a dark path, and I have already accepted blame in prodding him on his way."

XJ-V looked at the serious face of the joking Tiger and paused next to him on the grand steps.

"You do not have to do this," Kai told him. "If anything, it should be me prostrating myself before you, asking for forgiveness. Though I strike with the strength of a tiger, the heart of a bumbling child still beats within me."

XJ-V stepped forward and replicated the movement of his Brother – placing his own hand on the Tiger Cultivator's shoulder. Though he shook at his touch, he did not recoil.

"May it continue to beat," XJ-V said. "This world needs more joy."

He walked away after seeing Kai's impish smile return and allowed himself a small smile of his own while Arha looked around, completely in the dark.

At the peak of the steps XJ-V stood before the iron doors of Master Yoma's sanctum, hearing the sounds of fury echo from inside. He steeled himself, gave Arha a pet, and then threw open the doors.

The sanctum was in many ways similar to the Dragonpyre Hearth, with the greatest distinction being the carpeted floors that felt soft and crisp under XJ-V's feet. As he walked, it felt like he was traversing a desert savannah.

A desert path that led toward his goal: the bowed form of Fai-Deng, his arm a ruined, blackened thing, and his Master standing over him, braided hair frayed and standing on end. It was a vision of repudiation and XJ-V felt the waves of power radiating from the Master. His eyes were bright, yet focused. They were boring into the kneeling Disciple with more intensity than XJ-V had ever beheld. The Master's face seemed perfectly calm. Controlled. Yet, there was no mistaking the sheer waves of energy coursing through his veins in this moment – pure, raw Qi being channeled into a booming voice that was about to deliver its final proclamation upon this sad thing that knelt before it.

Until that same, perfectly symmetrical face discerned the identity of the new arrival.

XJ-V stood in the center of the carpeted floor, seeing Fai-Deng tense up as he felt his presence.

"Turn, pup. Turn, and look upon the deliverer of your destiny."

Fai-Deng did not move an inch at his Master's command. He bowed his head again in shame, rejecting the reality of the Cog's presence. The latter, meanwhile, was struck by the sheer force in Yoma-Dur's voice. He had only heard that voice once as the Master of the Tiger Sect had dispersed their last fight. Then, it had been something of a groan – an echo that spoke of weariness at disciplining children.

Now, however, it was the dull roar of a beast that struck at one's heart with fear. The fear it evoked was that primal fear that came from knowing the creature one faced was capable of so much more than it was displaying. It had such restrained strength within it that even XJ-V's feet faltered when it spoke again:

"Even as you prostrate yourself before me, begging to remain among your Brothers, you are still a disobedient dog. Nothing more."

XJ-V's memory banks flashed at those words even as he saw Fai-Deng bow his head lower to kiss the ground his Master walked on:

An engine made for destruction…Nothing more.

Words that his Master had hurled at him. Words that, ironically, gave the Cog strength to walk forward and stand before the Master of the untamable himself. Words that reminded him why he had come here.

Master Longhua, he thought. Perhaps you had begun training me long before you took me on as your Disciple.

Yoma-Dur raised an eyebrow as the Cog approached.

"You need not fear, XJ-V," he said. "Nor should you feel compelled to explain the situation to me or the wound you gave this welp. I have already decided on the punishment Fai-Deng will face. In the eyes of we, who walk always as a Pride, it is an appropriate disgrace. One which he has brought upon himself."

XJ-V looked to the downtrodden Fai-Deng and was struck by the boy avoiding his gaze entirely. Fury still burned within his heart. The charred remains of his left arm hung limply at his side – a dull, dead thing.

"The boy has even refused the healing of our Core Regulators who offered to mend his arm," Yoma-Dur went on. "He has taken a vow of silence, as is his right. Were another one of our number in his position, they would know not to sully the air of our training grounds with their vile speech."

XJ-V tore his gaze from the work his engine had worked – the soul within him that still burned as it saw the man that hated him so. But turn away he did. Because he was listening to something else, now.

"I have not come here to explain myself, Master Yoma-Dur."

"To gloat in the aftermath of your victory, then?" the Master replied. "This dung heap deserves as much. Perhaps you are a true dragon after all."

XJ-V shook his head. Then, without elaboration, he knelt in the meditative stance of the Eternal Dragon Disciples, placed both his palms on the carpeted ground of the Tigers, and bowed his head.

"I have come to plead for Brother Fai-Deng," he said. "I have come to ask you to allow him to remain in your Sect."

Both men looked upon him then with incredulous, dumbstruck faces. Fai-Deng practically foamed at the mouth to see the Cog intercede on his behalf. He surged, caught sight of his Master's face, and for once in his life thought better of saying anything.

XJ-V did not look up until he heard Master Yoma-Dur's voice address him after some time.

"You come to my Sanctum without invitation, Disciple of the Dragon. You question my judgement. You make imperious demands. My hands have torn the throats from men who have done less."

XJ-V tried to stem the innate desire to quake as the force of Master Yoma's Qi now focused entirely on him.

"And yet," he said after a time. "You do these things to save the uncultured dog that tried to take your life."

He heard a small, gruff growl emit from the Master's throat, then. Something which he only later realized was laughter.

"Longhua did say you were an impertinent Cog," he said. "If only to satiate my own amusement, I will hear your plea for this filth. But I warn you," he added sternly. "You had best not waste my time."

XJ-V finally looked up at the awe-inspiring form of the Master – a creature with teeth ready to seek his throat if he disobeyed. Beside him, Fai-Deng did the exact same – though he shook with fear. He knew his master. He knew what he could do to Disciples that provoked his anger.

But XJ-V did not relent.

"Your time shall not be wasted, Master," he said. "For I have but one reason you should allow Brother Fai to remain."

Far from provoking Yoma-Dur's ire, the ridiculous notion that XJ-V had come with but one single reason in his arsenal of argumentation did nothing but make the Master laugh again.

"Very well," he said, teeth flaring in the savannah of his lair. "Tell me."

###

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[IronLung]

"Symmetry."

The word echoed through the walls of the Tiger sanctum as it left XJ-V's mouth.

He received nothing but silence in return. Then, an almost imperceptible upturn of the old Master's lip.

"Expand," he said.

"Prophet Genli-Roth talks of the symmetry of the tiger," XJ-V continued, putting together the final pieces in his mind to construct the words he needed to express his idea – the slippery notion that so far had only confused him but which, when he saw the eyes of Fai-Deng as he burned, became suddenly all so clear. "He writes of not only the perfect alignment of the stripes on its face, but of the symmetry of its spirit. The Tiger is a beast born of duality – of beauty and violence, thesis and antithesis, which come together in a unified whole. This vital symmetry makes a warrior that can survive in the desert wastes."

Yoma-Dur looked down at the Cog, his face a blank stone utterly unchanging. But his voice seemed to XJ-V the voice of an entirely different person, now.

"Thesis, antithesis, and synthesis," he said.

XJ-V nodded. "According to the Prophet, a warrior needs antithesis. Without a shadow to contend with, he cannot walk in the light."

Yoma-Dur cast his eyes over the bemused Fai-Deng who was watching this entire conversation with eyes like a wild beast, ready to fly at the Cog at any second. Yet, as the robot made his statement, the Master of the Tiger Sect saw something flare up in the young boy's eyes. It was something only the eyes of a Sect Master could see.

Interesting.

He turned his attention back to the Cog and chuckled drily.

"You need not quote the words of our Prophet to me, man of stone," he said. "I was there when he penned them."

XJ-V nodded low, showing the proper respect.
"And yet," the Master continued. "You speak them not out of ignorance, but out of compassion. You have indeed demonstrated the symmetry of the tiger today."

He chuckled again, seemingly overcome by the ludicrous nature of the situation.

"A Dragon of stone and steel that wears the skin of a Tiger," he said through laughter. "You mean of tell me, of course, that Fai-Deng is your antithesis."

"As I am his," XJ-V agreed. "I believe Fai-Deng hates me because he sees himself within me. I believe we both have power locked within us that only the other can coax. I struggled to learn even the most basic of my Sect's Earth Grade techniques until Fai-Deng attacked myself and Feng-Lung. As I understand it, Fai-Deng has also devoted himself to his own training whilst I have been here, redoubling his efforts to perfect your Sect's Lightning Claw strike. This he has done so that he may strike back at me."

Yoma-Dur breathed deeply as he considered the Cog's words.

"You mean to tell me that you can learn from each other," he said.

XJ-V bristled as he pushed further than he knew he should: "I mean to tell you that we must learn from each other, Master."

The old Sect Master once again let silence overtake the room and for a while all XJ-V could hear were the slow, methodical, uninterrupted flares of his nostrils.

"Disciple XJ-V," he finally said. "You are indeed an impertinent Cog."

He strode over to Fai-Deng's practically shaking body, and the latter kissed the floor of the Sect hall again.

"Well, dog?" he asked. "What do you think? Do you wish to remain in this place of learning and enlightenment, or do you wish to drag your paws upon the Wastes like a doomed Planeswalker?"

Out of the corner of his eye, XJ-V saw Fai-Deng's teeth shred his lips apart. The boy was conflicted. He was torn between hate and love – hate for his enemy and love for his Sect.

Now, the choice is yours, Fai-Deng, XJ-V thought. I made mine. What shall yours be?

"Well?" Yoma-Dur asked again. "The pup does not make the father of his pride wait."

"…Yes, Master."

The words left the boy's lips like an inadvertent spasm. He stared up at his Master as if he didn't even know if the words he said were his at all.

"Then you will learn of humility this day," Yoma-Dur told him. "For I am not one vain enough to turn away a promising young Cultivator now that he has acquired the perfect training partner who vouches for him."

Fai-Deng's eyes flared up like those of a wounded, cornered beast. Those eyes flew to XJ-V and found that the Cog was looking right back at them.

"You will spar with XJ-V from now on," his Master told him. "Under the strict supervision of our Core Regulators. Both of you shall mould the body of the other. Steel and flesh. Tiger and Dragon – as it has been since the beginning of time itself. In time, I am confident you shall become Body Temperers worthy of this place."

XJ-V bowed low at the Master's thinly veiled praise, while Fai-Deng simply sat, his broken arm quivering with phantom fury.

"Do you accept these terms?" the Master asked both men.

"I do," came XJ-V's answer.

Yoma-Dur nodded nonchalantly, and then cast his predatory eyes over Fai-Deng's incredulous features.

Their eyes met. Time seemed at a standstill.

Then: a ghostly whisper hovered out the boy's lips.

"…I do."

"Hm?" Yoma-Dur asked, his voice booming, reverberating off the four walls of the Sanctum. "Speak with the conviction of your soul, pup!"

"I do!"

The Master turned from them both then, saying not another word until he settled into the straight backed, clenched-knuckle meditation pose of the Tiger Sect and closed his eyes to them both.

"Good. You may rise, Disciples. Leave this place as one."

Both men bowed low, XJ-V feeling now nothing but numbness from the Disciple beside him, and becoming overcome with exhaustion himself – facing the tiger in his own lair had been more mentally taxing than any time he had attempted the Dao-Walk. But when the rose, they did so together. And when they left, they each opened one half of the great iron doors.

"Fai-Deng," came Yoma-Dur's voice before they left.

The Disciple let the Cog pass first and leaned back to hear his Master's final words. They were words delivered with the cold intensity of a trained killer:

"Never embarrass my Sect again."

…

Outside, the heavens opened with a crack of thunder, and their tears fell upon Ramor-Tai once again. XJ-V felt each splash on his shoulders keenly, but more than anything he felt a degree of satisfaction which he had not felt since first he heard Master Longhua would take him in.

He then shook his head pensively. Perhaps satisfaction was the wrong word. Perhaps there was another he needed.

"You did not say much during that meeting, Arha," he said.

The little fox spirit curled up round his forehead, her fluffy tail falling down to tickly his steel nose.

"I'm not the insane one here!" she shrieked. "That old man looked like he ate foxes for breakfast!"

"Well, he is Master of the Tiger Sect," XJ-V replied. "Perhaps there is some truth to that."

Hearing the quickened splashes of the Disciple running behind him, XJ-V put that particular thought aside for a moment and turned, seeing Fai-Deng panting before him.

For a moment the two Disciples merely stood and watched the other.

Those of the Tiger Sect that saw them would say this later: they were not unlike two animals so tired from fighting that they simply waited to see who would make the next move.

As it turned out, it was XJ-V who turned away first.

"…why."

The Cog did not feel that this was a question Fai posed to his back. It was more like a statement he was mulling over in his own mind.

But, when that word came again, XJ-V turned back to the Disciple.

"Why?" was all he said. "Why did – why did you do that?"

XJ-V must have been in a reflective mood, because he was reminded yet again of when Master Longhua had asked him that very same question on the cold morning when he had saved the butterfly from the spider.

Arha shuffled under his chin to whisper in his ear: "Arha would also like to know this thing!" she said.

"You mean to mock me, is that it?" the Disciple said with quiet rage. "You mean to parade me in front of your friends and show them what you have done to me?"

"All you have done, Fai-Deng, you have done to yourself."

The youth started forwards, hair sodden and sticky with rainwater.

"I should kill you where you stand."

"You would lose yourself in return."

Fai stopped before he considered throwing a punch, perhaps remembering his Master's warning. Perhaps hearing the ring of truth in the Cog's words.

"You think I lied to your Master?" XJ-V asked him. "You think he would not be able to sense my deception? Like you say, I am but a thing of steel and function. I do not have the power to manipulate a Master of Ramor-Tai."

"Maybe so," Fai whispered begrudgingly. "But – why then?"

"Because we are two halves of Ramor-Tai's spirit," XJ-V said. "A Tiger and a Dragon. It is as I told Master Yoma-Dur: we both harbor hate within us. It has kept us alive, but it is not what will sustain us. Hate cannot sustain a thing. Together we can be more than we are."

Fai-Deng looked away with an indignant scoff.

"…I will not disobey my Master," he said through gritted teeth. "But I will not call you a Dragon."

When the boy looked back to see the Cog, it was his outstretched hand that hovered before him.

"How about 'Brother'?" XJ-V asked.

Fai-Deng looked down at the Cog's steel-plated fingers, sucked up the ire rising in his gut, and simply walked away back to the Tiger commune.

"Friday morning, machine," he said. "We shall meet in the Amberclad Ring and begin our training. Do not make me wait."

XJ-V watched the boy go, swinging his dead arm limply at his side.

"Meanie!" Arha spat as he went, conveniently after he was well out of earshot. "Not even a thank you!"

But when she looked back at XJ-V, she saw he was smiling.

"Well, Arha," he said. "When it comes to humans, we can't ask for the impossible."

###

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[The Stormbringer]

Ahh, I see now. It was all building towards getting him the ideal rival. Well played!

 

[IronLung]

The next morning, a general alarm flared up in the Eternal Dragon Commune. It seemed, from what the Disciples within could gather, that their Sect was under assault.

Within XJ-V's chamber, it was Little Arha rose first, uncurling herself from the foot of his bed and stretching her lithe body.

"So much commotion does not fit the rise of the sun!" she whined. "Arha wants more sleepy time!"

XJ-V ticked the fluff of her chin and told her to stay put. There was no need, after all, for a spirit to rise and fight.

She pouted up at him but relented eventually, returning to the warm pillows that were pointless to the Cog but bliss to her furry behind.

"Arha is quite capable of deciding these things for herself. Arha will rise when Arha wants," she told him with an indignant hmpf!

And with that, he left the Huli and entered the courtyard, joining the assembly of bewildered Disciples that crowded together as the raucous swept through their domain.

"Good Morning Brother XJ-V," the yawning Mah-Jung said as he approached the throng, hearing doors being thrown open and their hinges breaking.

"Good morning. Brother – what is the source of this noise?"

Mah-Jung smiled, placed a thin finger to his lips, and pointed ahead of the crowd.

"Excitement, XJ-V," he said with a wink. "It is the sound of early morning excitement. The frenetic rush before battle! And I think we should be getting ourselves front row seats."

He grabbed XJ-V's wrist while the latter nodded swiftly, and the pair took into the air. Mah-Jung's feet vibrated against the ground and his robe sleeves billowed behind him like a pair of membranous wings. Both he and XJ-V glided above the crowd while their sea of bemused faces watched them from below.

"The Wyrm-walk," XJ-V said. "To walk upon the air as the dragons of old did. Mah-Jung, you have mastered the technique?"

Mah-Jung smiled back at XJ-V as he brought them down for a landing. "'Mastered' may be a stretch, Brother. But your eyes do not deceive you. I am almost ready for the next stage of Cultivation. Soon this Sect shall welcome a new Mental Master!"

XJ-V considered his Brother's progress. If he had mastered a fourth-level Earth-Grade technique, then that meant his Cultivation level must be approaching the Eighth rank of Corporeal Tempering. Cultivation levels and mastery of martial techniques generally went hand-in-hand. Considering XJ-V had not yet attained Second rank as a Corporeal Temperer, he had to admit he was a little astounded by Mah-Jung's progress. Perhaps even a little envious.

He put such thoughts aside for a second as both he and his companion saw the source of the morning woes – a Disciple from the Tiger Sect had come to visit them.

"Fai-Deng…" XJ-V murmured.

Mah-Jung readied his Prancing Crane.

"If you have come for combat," he said. "You will receive more than you bargained for this time, beast."

Fai-Deng, much to the dismay of both men, completely ignored the taunt and the Wushu stance of Mah-Jung. Instead, he continued to storm through the crowd, his eyes fixated on something in the distance. Something evidently within the Disciple dorms on the east side of the commune, for this is where he was marching.

The crowd followed, no one acting, some chuckling, and some wondering if they should fetch the Master.

"That ungrateful dog!" Mah-Jung snorted. "I will teach him manners. Come, XJ-V, watch a Brother Dragon make this rabid puppy heel."

But XJ-V grabbed the sleeve of his friend as his arm flicked out in anger, and, shaking his head gently, he urged Mah-Jung and the crowd to follow.

"This Tiger has already been burned enough," he said. "I do not think he comes here to make war."

"Well, what then?" Mah-Jung asked, bemused.

Again, XJ-V merely shook his head and led the crowd after the marching warrior. It did not take long for them to catch up with him and, through the shouting of recently risen Disciples in the east block, see that the Tiger had come to pay someone a visit.

He was standing right in front of Feng-Lung's chamber, knocking on the door like a child desperate for attention.

"What is he…"

Mah-Jung was shushed when the door was finally thrown open, and all the gathered Disciples' voices rippled away to silence.

A drowsy Feng-Lung looked out at the crowd, at the stiff Fai-Deng, and then blinked.

The whole assembly – probably every Disciple of the Eternal Dragon across all Cultivation ranks – stood waiting. Watching patiently.

"Arha has decided to join you, good XJ-V! I bet you missed Ar-"

"SHHHHHH!" the entire crowd hissed, including, Arha noticed, her metal-man.

"Well!" she said with a shrug. "Arha has never seen such rudeness! Do the Masters no longer teach proper etiquette to you boys? How is that any way to treat a beautiful spirit like – hey!"

The Disciples had turned away as Fai-Deng finally made a move, and the Huli's voice was well and truly drowned out.

Fai-Deng had bowed before Feng-Lung and assumed the meditative pose of the Tiger, legs crossed, knuckles embedded on his knees, head trained on the feet of the Dragon.

"I have come to repent, Brother Feng-Lung," he said, trying, XJ-V assumed, to ignore the murmurings of the crowd. "By my honor as a Cultivator of Ramor-Tai, I ask for your forgiveness, and for your retribution."

XJ-V's neon eyes double blinked.

He was…apologizing.

The Cog could only imagine the rage bellowing in the young man's heart at prostrating himself so. If he had to guess, XJ-V assumed this was another condition set by his Master. No doubt Yoma-Dur was probably somewhere around, stalking like the spirit of his Sect, laughing at this display.

The crowd seemed quite entertained by the whole affair.

"Grant his what he desires, Brother Feng-Lung!" Mah-Jung called beside XJ-V. "Let him feel the flames of two dragons!"

The crowd cheered at this, exhorting Feng-Lung to leap into a battle stance and strike at the boy's weakest joints, crippling his body and his spirit, both. Only XJ-V remained quiet. His eyes sought out Feng-Lung amidst the chaos of the baying Disciples.

And when he found them, and the youth looked right back at him, XJ-V smiled. They said that mortal men could be possessed by spirits of vengeance. As with many assumptions XJ-V had about humankind, however, Feng-Lung continued to be the exception.

"Rise, Brother," he finally said when the crowd quieted. "I will not strike you."

"Honor demands it," the Tiger said. "I must repent. It is the way of the Tiger. It is the only way."

Feng-Lung sighed, rolling his eyes and watching the crowd once again take up arms, demanding blood.

"Oh, just – just quiet down, please?" he asked, his eyes pleading for XJ-V to help him.

But the Cog's smiling face displayed no intention of stepping in. He felt that Feng-Lung got the point his eyes were making – Brother, this is your burden to bear. You watched me suffer in the rain. This should be an easy enough task for you!

Feng-Lung sighed again, and looked down at the disgraced Tiger who bore his neck beneath him.

"Must I really do this thing?" he asked.

"Retribution must come," Fai-Deng replied. "If you shall not strike me, then I shall flog myself before you!"

"Can a Tiger bite itself?" Mah-Jung laughed, nudging XJ-V. "Have you ever seen such a thing, Brother? You came here from the Wasteland, after all."

XJ-V did not reply. Now, he was totally focused on what would happen next.

Finally, Feng-Lung craned his neck and cracked his knuckles.

"Alright," he said. "Stand up."

The crowd held its breath. Fai-Deng faced Feng-Lung and sucked in the air of Ramor-Tai, preparing for another burn. His charred arm twitched at the memory of his pain.

Feng-Lung's arm rose.

"Here it comes," Mah-Jung whispered. "I always knew the boy had it in him."

XJ-V had to admit that his mouth went wide. If he had breath, he would be holding it.

Feng-Lung's arm came swooping down, aimed right at Fai-Deng's face.

Feng-Lung…

CLAP.

The audibility of the sound was so low that the Disciples began to question if they had heard it at all. Then, they thought perhaps Feng-Lung had used a delayed strike technique such as the Hidden Talon – a real crowd pleaser during the Sect Tournaments.

But XJ-V's smile returned, and beamed into the bemused face of Mah-Jung. He had seen what happened, alright.

Fai-Deng looked at his Brother Dragon with disbelieving eyes. Slowly, his hand reached for his cheek where Feng-Lung had tapped him like a mother does when remarking how nice her eldest boy looks.

"What…" he asked. "What have you –"

"I have maimed you," Feng-Lung replied with an impish laugh. "As you requested. Now, go back to your Sect and attempt to heal from my vicious strike. I'm going back to bed."

With that Feng-Lung closed the door to his chamber and retired until morning meditations would begin, but not before casting a wry smile of his own right back at XJ-V.

See, Brother? his boyish smirk was saying. Some of us mortals know what mercy means.

The crowd moaned its sadness to all the walls of the commune as Fai-Deng briskly turned and walked away, saying nothing to anyone else until he passed by XJ-V's shoulder.

"Tomorrow, Cog," he said. "Remember our agreement."

He walked away without even waiting for XJ-V's reply.

"By the Dao!" Arha gasped. "All that excitement over nothing!"

"I quite agree with the Huli," Mah-Jung grumbled. "I skipped breakfast for this! Perhaps that means nothing to you, XJ-V, but you do not understand the depths of my suffering! How am I supposed to train on an empty stomach?

XJ-V merely laughed off his companion's worries and told him they would go together to see if any Mantou was left in the kitchens. He decided he would let Feng-Lung have some well-deserved rest. Arha, meanwhile, hopped back on his shoulder.

Once again, the boy had surprised him. Once again, he'd shown how much of an oddity he was in this place – full of the ambitious, the eccentric, and the downright insane in some cases.

Against them all only he – an ordinary boy from an unremarkable village of the Wastelands – stood out.

Feng-Lung, XJ-V thought as he hung from his companion's shoulder. Is it luck, or the thing you humans call 'fate' that we met?

He caught himself smiling as the thought entered his head and promptly disappeared again.

After all, did it really matter?

###

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[IronLung]

"Concentrate."

He didn't have to hear the word. But all the same, he was thankful. He was thankful to have his Master sitting before him, to have his voice as his guide.

"Arha is rooting for you, XJ-V!"

That voice was another story. It was the squeaking of the little fox rolling around behind him. It was curious. In attempting a Dao-Walk, a Disciple was supposed to enter a state of sensory deprivation so complete that his mind opened to the realm beyond all mortals. The Huli's voice should have distracted him, but, perhaps because of her nature as a spirit birthed by the Dao itself, the voice became a light in the shadows behind his eyes that he was following.

Until, once again, he came to the peak of the mountain.

He felt rain on his shoulders. He felt rust cake his body. Then, the Cog-Shadow turned and looked into his eyes as he made his climb. He stopped, stood before the creature wreathed in darkness, and stared right back at it.

"This is where I must leave you, My Disciple," he heard the faint voice of Longhua echo within him. This is your battle. Victory, or loss - it must be yours."

"You can do it, metal-man!"

XJ-V smiled and walked towards the shadow-fiend. Every step was labored, weighted down as though the pinnacles that shackled his metal body to this earth were pulling him down, keeping him from his goal. But this time, he pushed forward. This time, he did not avert his gaze. He looked at the dark-self that assumed a battle-stance before him, and he saw its form begin to shift.

First, the eyes of the High-Eagle morphed into being on its face.

Next, the broken arm of Fai-Deng sprouted at its side.

More shadows fell away from the being's skin, and the smile of Mah-Jung smeared itself across the creature's face.

Fear. Hate. Jealousy – the being was a distorted amalgamation of all these things. XJ-V knew that now. He knew that this dangerous triad was what was keeping him from his destiny as a Cultivator. They were keeping him bound to the scorched earth of the Wasteland.

The creature adopted the Crouching Tiger and stamped its feet at his approach.

But this time, XJ-V did not waver.

The High Eagle is not here, XJ-V told himself. Fai-Deng is my Brother, now. And Mah-Jung – he is so far beyond me that it is pointless to feel envy. There is no logic to any of these emotions.

He saw the face of the creature waver, its metal limbs starting to melt away as though it shook with fright at XJ-V's approach.

"You," the true Cog said. "You are not a thing born of logic. You are a thing born of ignorance. My ignorance. Such ignorance blinded me once. But now, it does not exist."

The dark reflection wavered again, its stance failing as the earth began to shake beneath its ghostly feet. The mouth of Mah-Jung opened to bellow a roar at the interloper in its limbo-realm and XJ-V looked into the black, bubbling tar at the heart of its being.

"You," XJ-V said. "You do not exist."

The punch of the creature came flying at his face, and XJ-V watched it melt away before it could do him any harm. Within his chest he could feel the searing light that powered him reaching out and piercing the torso of the beast of darkness. He watched the eyes, the arm, and the smile fade away until it crumbled to ash at his feet, and he took a single breath of still air as he saw the white light that lay behind its ashen corpse.

A mountain range, their peaks touching the skies, whisks of clouds intertwining themselves between them like questing snakes.

Beyond them – a wall of radiant white light.

The Cog spread his arms wide, closed his eyes within the dream-realm between this world and that of the Dao, and took a step forward.

He fell.

He felt the winds of the ethereal air whip against his face, the side of the mountains grow larger above him as he plummeted towards whatever awaited him below. His eyes were open now, watching a white-gold ocean undulate beneath him and knowing it was instant death to all his vital systems. Yet he fought the urge of self-preservation. He fought the desire to close his eyes off and return to his room beside his Master. He fought the impulse – the simple desire deep within the raging flame that was his heart – to fail. To reject anything beyond his metal frame. To simply be a Cog – to be a being of form and function. There was simplicity in that. There was certainty.

And here, beyond the waves of white, there was danger. There was death. There was constant trial and endless suffering.

But there was something else beyond it all. Something that he saw clear as the light of day as he crashed through the waves and let the ocean beyond take him:

Life.

He saw it all.

From the tiniest centipede to the largest Rozarkh stampeding down the wastes of Ishkara. From the single ameba of a human embryo to the triggering of synapses within the minds of the men who had created his kind. He saw blades of grass growing beneath his feet, and waterfalls spilling from the heavens and shrouding his body in crystalline liquid – every component of their molecular structure, every atom, every subatomic particle – all of this washed over him and passed through him like a waking dream. In the world of white light where his body was both there and not there, he saw the fires that had burned the world stain the blue, cloudless sky above him red, and even within the destruction there was beauty. From the flames he saw the birth of new organisms, mutations grown from imagination and magic crawling from the cracks in the earth. He saw villages and towns sprout up like saplings from the seeds of chaos, budding, flowering, and growing, and he saw the truth at the heart of the earth: all life goes on. All life finds a way.

He basked in the light of this formless realm until he started to feel his limbs burn and sear away. He was being taken by the force that whispered in his mind like a mother rocking its child to slumber and the most incredible thing of all was that he did not mind at all as he watched his metal hands melt away to become part of the earth itself.

He had breathed in the depths of the Dao. Now, The Dao was taking him.

The light within his chest reacted – it surged and pulled him back. And XJ-V felt something then that he had never felt before: rage.

Not his own. It was not an emotion that emanated from the logic matrix of his mind. It was something else…it was the mind of someone – something – else entirely…

"XJV!" he heard. "Disciple! Do you hear my words?"

He felt his body react even as his mind begged him to resist. He wanted nothing more than the touch of the infinite. The embrace of the cosmos was his. Peace was his - all his. If he just accepted it.

"You must open your eyes."

Eyes. Those were earthly things. What need did he have for eyes here?

"Resist the pull, Disciple. Awaken."

Resist…that word – it meant he had a choice.

He looked into the infinite expanse before him and breathed. Actually breathed as though he bore a pair of human lungs. And he felt it then: air. Pure. Untainted by the polluted airs that swam above the wastes. Free energy formless and intoxicating as it ran through his wires and turned them into veins, then bones, and then purest starlight.

He was joining with the infinite.

"XJ-V! You must listen!"

Something shook him then – his earthly form.

Someone was pulling him back. Someone was heeding the desire that burned within his chest. The thing that sat beneath its heart roared in rejection of the pearly radiance that stretched out before him.

Then a voice burned through his barely conscious mind:

"XJ, XJ, hurry back! Arha wants a metal snack!"

That…that voice…

So…annoying…

He felt his matrix switch back on, and his body reeled back like a fish on a lure.

With a strange mix of sad nostalgia, the white world of pace drained away, and he awoke to find himself on the floor of his chamber with the worried face of his Master over him.

"You have awoken," he said simply, as if XJ-V had merely been having a particularly lucid dream.

"Master," he said. "Master, I – I saw –"

His words stopped before he could complete the sentence. For his heart burned with power. He felt his limbs constrict, go numb, and then gyrate as something flooded through them.

"Hold it, XJ-V!" Longhua roared, channeling his Qi to enhance his voice. "Hold the energy. Hold it within, let it pass through you and over you. Let it be like –"

"…Like a river, unhindered," XJ-V finished as his arms flopped down at his sides and his sensors burned with warning sirens. His vision clouded with the red haze of his internal alarm systems, but his mind showed him something beyond them:


Anima Cores: 110


He saw the words blaze across his eyes and settle there, blurring in and out of existence until the fact they signified seeped into his soul.

And he sat up with a strained breath to look into Longhua's incredulous eyes.

For a moment, neither man spoke at all. There was nothing but the sound of Arha teething on her Cog's right leg, biting at the exposed wires on his calf.

"I – hey!" he shouted down at her. "Cease your nibbling, spirit! I am not your snack!"

The little Huli giggled and rolled over on her back, exposing her fluffy belly.

"Is that any way to speak to your savior, my good metal can?"

"The spirit speaks true," Longhua said, sitting back and wiping perspiration from his forehead. "It was her voice that brought you back. Perhaps your bond with her is stronger than you think."

Either that, or my desire to make her stop those silly rhymes is greater than my desire for peace and tranquility, XJ-V thought.

He reached towards the waiting Huli and scratched her belly, feeling, somehow, that the sensation was more vivid, more real, than it ever had been for him before.

It was almost like he had skin covering the tips of his fingers. He felt her softness keenly, and his Master chuckled drily at his confusion.

"Most Disciples first Dao-Walk ends in failure," he said. "But those that push through have passed the first hurdle on the long road of the Cultivator. In time, it shall become easier."

XJ-V looked at him in disbelief.

"I saw it, Master," he said. "The Dao. It – it called to me."

Longhua looked deep into his Cog pupil's eyes, trying to discern what the metal man was truly feeling in this most significant of moments.

But he did not have to ask any questions. It was the Cog himself who revealed his own peril:
"I wanted to remain," he said as Arha wriggled under his touch. It felt tranquil. It felt like a million years of harmony."

Longhua nodded sagely. "Thus is the way of the Dao, XJ-V," he said. "You saw what it wished you to say – for the Dao is the energy of all souls who have ever walked this earth, combined with the souls of the spirits and the Gods who have long since departed our realm. Together it forms a consciousness with a will of its own. We take but a fraction of its Qi. But in turn," Longhua said with sorrow. "It can take us."

XJ-V remembered the feeling of oblivion he experienced when totally immersed in that white realm of pure nothing. It felt like the lightest, sweetest dream. Yet only now could he understand that such a dream had, for the briefest instant, convinced him to let his soul fly from his body and meet its end.

"You have luck on your side, XJ-V," Longhua told him. "Once again, your soul's insistence on not adhering to proper technique is a source of both frustration and satisfaction for me. But, no matter. The aches of my old bones are not yours to know."

He gave XJ-V a stout pat on the shoulder as though the Cog had merely returned from an afternoon hike.

"Welcome, my Disciple, to the path of the Cultivator. You will now be known as XJ-V, Rank 2 Corporeal Temperer."

Little Arha yipped for joy and ran up his arm to snuggle into his head, expecting to see joy reflected in her metal man's face. Yet when he glanced up at him, his face showed her only pain.

"Oh, will you ever just be happy?" she asked him. "Arha must find an 'off-switch' for your brain!"

While the Huli ran around his body trying to find such a device, XJ-V bowed to his Master and asked him the question that burned in his breast:

"Master," he said carefully. "What happens to those Disciples who fail their first walk?"

When he looked back up, he saw that Longhua had already risen to leave. His answer was murmured back over his shoulder. For some reason, he did not wish his pupil to see his face:

"My Disciple," he said. "Make an educated guess."

###

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[IronLung]

If XJ-V had thought his life in the monastery had been challenging before he had officially joined the ranks of the Cultivators, he now regretted his ignorance.

"SHAH-HAH!"

Fai-Deng's lightning fist came flying at his abdomen. With a swift sweep of his right arm he repelled the blow. Then another. Then another. When the next fist jabbed at his body he managed a counterattack, striking the Tiger just beneath the side of his ribcage and knocking him back.

"You are holding back on me, Tiger Disciple."

Fai-Deng straightened up and cracked his knuckles.

"The Tiger probes his opponent for weaknesses before it makes its final strike," he replied with a low, menacing growl. "Yours are all too clear to me, now."

XJ-V crouched into his Fuhubu stance and kept his palms upright, ready to catch the claws of his opponent.

"Then come and show them to me."

For the past week, the Cog and the Tiger had trained under the dome of the Tiger Sect Chamber of Symmachus – their glass training hall that served the same purpose as the Eternal Dragon's Dragonpyre Hearth. Yet the environment could not be more different – Symmachus was a hallway adorned with mirrors along its walls which created the illusion of six men training when there was one, or a dozen men sparring when there were two. It was supposed to mimic the symmetry espoused by the Tiger Prophet - every Disciple of the Tiger's greatest foe was his own reflection. Life was a constant struggle for balance against the shadow impulses of one's being.

And no two Disciples in Ramor-Tai reflected this fact than the pair that were currently sparring within the hollow chamber's glassy innards.

The aim of this particular session was twofold – one, XJ-V wished to perfect his second Earth-Grade technique native to his Sect – the Dragontail Swipe – so called for the mesmerizing moves of one's hands this technique would conjure. XJ-V had watched in wonder as Mah-Jung had first shown him the move in a practice Kata – his hands seeming to multiply and swish through the air to intercept and counter any strike XJ-V could throw at him.

When he had ended up on the floor again, Mah-Jung had chuckled in the good-sporting way he often did, and extended his hand to his Cog Brother.

"Perhaps this is a move you should test on your new Tiger comrade," Mah-Jung winked. "After all, a Tiger's claws are slower than a dragon's tail."

Standing in front of the focused, ever-present form of Fai-Deng now, XJ-V was more than willing to dispute that claim.

When he had approached the Tiger and suggested he wished to try out the defensive technique today, the Tiger had smirked as though the robot had just bestowed him with a birthday gift.

For that was the second purpose of this Kata exercise – for the Cog to become Fai-Deng's personal punching bag.

XJ-V wiped such regrets from his mind and braced to meet Fai-Deng's furious hands, only slightly distracted by the fact that his left arm, though repaired physically by the skilled Core Regulators of his Sect, was still the shade of deepest charcoal.

"Ready, Cog?" the Tiger grunted.

XJ-V focused his breathing, letting the Qi enter his Chakras and wrap around his Anima Cores. Slowly he fixed his mind's eye on the flow of energy as it traveled up to his palms and wrapped around his fingers…

"Defend!"

Fai-Deng's form became nothing but a blur of sapphire light. In the next second XJ-V put up his hands and managed only to fend off the first two blows that came sailing for his neck before Fai-Deng's flurry of fists came crashing down upon both his knees and forced his whole body to buckle.

When he hit the ground, he almost expected Fai-Deng to deliver a stout heel to his face to finish him off, but the Tiger Disciple merely spit on the ground and turned away.

"The fact I lost to you is a miracle."

"Twice," XJ-V said, rising with a schoolboy-like smile.

"Both times a fluke," Fai-Deng replied, administering three swift kicks to XJ-V's torso that he only just managed to parry – catching the Tiger on his heel and attempting to counter by flipping him on his side and delivering a low kick of his own to the boy's ribcage. In the moment that he felt his victory was at hand, however, his foot met nothing but the unbreakable glass of the Sanctum's wall.

"What…"

Once again XJ-V felt the sting of the Tiger's claws as the flat edge of his hand slammed into the back of his neck and sent him stumbling against the wall, causing cracks to ripple up its surface which instantly evaporated like tears in an ocean.

The Cog spun round, looking with frustration on his opponent's snarky smile.

"Had enough?" he asked.

XJ-V looked from him to his own irritated reflection all around the hall and dropped into a pained meditation pose.

"You are still holding back on me," XJ-V observed.

The boy snarled back at him as he usually did, seating himself down in the rigid pose of the Tiger meditation style.

"I am not the only one," he said. "As much as your suffering amuses me, it means nothing if you do not fight with all your strength."

XJ-V knew what he was hinting at – he had not employed the greatest trick he had up his sleeve.

"I still remember the feeling," Fai-Deng told him through eyes lined with wrinkles of hate. "The feeling of your cold touch tearing my Lightning Claw away from me. Nullifying the light of the Qi."

The Tiger fixed him with his hard stare. "How do you do it?" he asked.

XJ-V simply sighed in response. "I do not know."

"Then why do you resist the urge to employ this cheater's tactic now?"

"For the same reason your Lightning Claws remain retracted," he replied. "Because I will never learn anything new if I simply rely on one, as you call it, 'cheater's tactic'."

But neither am I able to understand how to counter your speed, XJ-V thought within the darkness of his mind's eye. Is it possible that the Dragontail Swipe is simply not quick enough? Or could it be that I am using it incorrectly? Perhaps a visit to the library shall –

A distinct feeling of pain radiating up the side of his head knocked XJ-V awake.

Fai-Deng stood above him with crossed arms, his muscles bulging as though they themselves were furious with him.

"Is it the policy of the Tiger Sect to attack an opponent in meditation?" XJ-V began, taking a step towards Fai-Deng before he felt his leg buckle under him.

When his back hit the glass floor of the Sanctum, he looked up once again to see the balled fist of the Tiger inches away from his face.

"Dead," the Tiger told him. "I have killed you three times over in the space of this duel. And do you know what the most irritating thing is? Your weakness is so painfully obvious. Even when you fail, you mock me in the simplicity of your defeat."

XJ-V was about to send a Dragon's Tooth strike flying towards the brash boy's face when his eyes beheld a sight far stranger than anything he had expected to see today.

Fai-Deng grabbed his torso with his blackened hand and hauled him up.

"If you are going to be my training opponent, you should at least fight like a real Cultivator."

And before XJ-V could even protest, Fai-Deng straightened his body and bent his arms, palms upright, right leg firmly planted before him while his left swept behind.

"Siliubu," he said. "The ultimate defensive stance. You can try and watch my movements all you like, but your machine-eyes will always lie to you unless your body is properly poised to defend. You focus too much on counterattacking. Your mind is thinking forwards, not in the moment. This, machine, is why you fail."

XJ-V desperately wanted in the moment to sling a clever comeback at the brash Disciple, but found himself reflecting instead. He had not considered that some stances might well synergize well with some techniques more than others.

How had he not seen it before?

"Tsk," Fai-Deng spat. "Even when you do not speak you fail. You read your opponent like a book, Cog. You spend too much time within your metal skull. How can you temper your body when you are so caught up in your own head."

Fai-Deng kicked at the Cog's feet to knock them into position and then sliced his arms through the air. It took XJ-V a second to realize that he was showing him, in his own strange, angry way, how to actually employ the stance.

So, concealing the smirk that smeared across his face, XJ-V followed suit.

"Like this?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Fai-Deng grunted. "Sloppy. Perhaps I should speak in Cog language: place 40% of your weight on your leading foot and 60% on your rear."

XJ-V did so.

"You copy the form like a child," Fai-Deng remarked. "But even a suckling calf can defend itself, if it knows how to counter its hunter."

In the next instant, XJ-V felt the rapid swish of air beside him and turned to meet Fai-Deng's strikes. His arms flew out to catch each blow, while his legs slowly moved back, aided by the pressure on his main foot and the light touch of his left heel behind him. Fai-Deng pushed forward, aiming each body blow at a different part of the Cog's torso, and the robot sent his punches flying wide while he stepped back, recovered his stamina, and braced himself to counter again.

The arms of both Disciples became simple bursts of stuttered air, one attacking, one defending, and both of them fully immersed in the moment. So much so that XJ-V thought, for a second, that the fury-driven Tiger let a smile slip through the intense rage that normally dominated his countenance.

When finally they moved apart, both men heaved with exertion. XJ-V looked at his shaking hands and realized that the key to the technique had been within him all along – all he'd needed was the right stance. All he'd needed was the proper motivation to succeed. This – this changed much about the way he had trained up until this point. Why had Feng-Lung or Mah-Jung not told him of these stance synergies?

His thoughts were interrupted by the gruff shout of Fai-Deng.

"You are in your head again, XJ-V!" he roared. "If you have so much time to think, then you have time to fight. Defend!"

And the young warrior threw himself at the machine again, forcing him back into his defensive posture and application of the Dragontail Swipe. XJ-V in the meantime let a sly smile play across his face again. Because, even as he acknowledged the advice of the warrior was sound, he couldn't help but latch on to the significance of what he'd just heard him say.

My name, he thought as he repelled each raging fist that came at him for the rest of the day. You just called me by my name.

Perhaps the Tiger was learning something here, after all.

###

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[IronLung]

The cold touch of winter ran its chilly tendrils across the roofs of the Ramor-Tai communes.

In the Wasteland, winter brought more than just simple cold. It was a time when darkness reached across the land, and malevolent spirits had greater sway over all mortal minds. With the onset of year's end, many villagers from below the mountain came to Ramor-Tai seeking blessings of protection from its mighty Cultivator Masters. Both Longhua and Yoma-Dur could often be seen meeting with such villagers during these trying times, listening to their woes and accepting their gifts for the monastery, offering them simple prayers in return.

It was not unusual to see mothers bring their babies to the monastery in this time, pleading with the Masters and the Core Regulators to heal a malaise that plagued their child. The coldest season was particularly brutal on the young, and a newborn babe was a prime target for the evil spirits that stalked the land, waiting upon biting winds for their chance to devour a human soul.

Rumors began to abound about one particularly nasty group of spirits operating during this time – the Aoyin, or 'Flesh-Eaters'. XJ-V would listen to Mah-Jung's tales of the hoof-footed beasts during breakfasts or dinner sessions, trying to parse fact from fiction. According to the ascending young Disciple the beasts devoured the brain matter of mortals for sustenance. Often, they gained the memories of their victims in the process, and some became intelligent enough to mimic the exact mannerisms and movements of those whom they had feasted on. They were malevolent deceivers – one of the most loathsome beasts that stalked the lands that had once been the Qingua Dynasty.

"But," Mah-Jung said as he chewed on his second helping of rice noodles one morning. "They are not powerful beasts. They are skinny like malnourished dogs and their skin is elastic like an ailing old man's. Individually, they pose no threat to even a novice versed in the Earth Grade techniques."

That's good to know, XJ-V thought to himself as he passed another bowl of rice noodles to the boy. By this time, he had observed that providing Mah-Jung with a constant supply of food in turn provided him with a steady stream of useful information. Like Fai-Deng said – every warrior had a weakness. It turned out Mah-Jung's was his stomach.

"Tell me, Brother," XJ-V asked as the youth attacked his bowl. "Have you ever fought one?"

Through mouthfuls of noodles, Mah-Jung slurped out his answer:

"I have tasted their fangs but once, XJ-V. Once, upon a moonlit eve beneath the banks of the Tru'Matra ruins, I encountered a brood of five feasting on the corpse of a slain washerwoman, her head split open and being supped on by each vile demon like she were a bowl of red bean paste."

Mah-Jung suddenly laid his food aside, his eyes becoming overtaken by the memory.

"They spoke with her voice," he said. "They asked if I would join them, there, by the river, as the blood of their victim seeped into the water."

XJ-V tried looking into his Brother's eyes as he simply stared at his firm hands. He had never seen the boy so shaken.

"I slaughtered them," he said. "But I am not ashamed to admit that I hesitated. To hear the voice of a kindly old woman emanate from the gnarled lips of those monsters…well, the mind plays tricks. That is the Aoyin's greatest defense mechanism. Had I submitted to their will, it would be my brain they licked their forked tongues around. It would be my techniques they would employ against their prey, and it would be my voice they used to deceive my brothers who came to slay them…"

The boy shuddered at the memory. The cold air of winter that waited outside the canteen was not helping.

"Forgive me, Brother," he said. "I seem to have lost my appetite."

"Why did you track down the beasts?" XJ-V asked, leaning forward and allowing pure curiosity to take hold of him. This was the first time he had heard any of the Disciples speak so openly of the outside world.

"Do not get the wrong idea," he said. "I am no Planeswalker of the Wasteland. The sacred mission to slay the beasts was granted to me by Master Longhua when I was on the cusp of entering my fourth rank of Corporeal Tempering. A test of might, and of resilience against the horrors of the world. You too shall be given a suitable test someday."

The Cog pondered that. A test of might. Of strength – it was indeed a necessary component of advancing as a Corporeal Temperer. But he had never imagined such tests would take place outside the bounds of Ramor-Tai. Back in the dreaded winds of the Wasteland…

What horrors would Master Longhua have him confront?

Mah-Jung seemed to sense his metal Brother's tension, for he slapped XJ-V on the back and broke into riotous laughter like he usually did.

"I wouldn't look so worried, Brother!" he laughed. "After all, I doubt Aoyin enjoy the taste of metal and steel. Your brain, I'm afraid, would not be of interest to them."

XJ-V smiled back at his jovial brother and took his leave. He had an appointment with Feng-Lung for some guided meditation in the courtyard. Yet, as he rose and bowed to quit the canteen, he found that he couldn't quite forget the visage of horror and disgust Mah-Jung had displayed. It had been like a momentary chink in his armor of humor.

But, hearing Mah-Jung turn and nudge a sickly looking Disciple beside him as he left, XJ-V knew Mah-Jung probably never dwelled on such things as much as he did.

"Brother Casa-Dur," he heard Mah-Jung say. "Are you going to be finishing your noodles…?"

…

"I thought you would be training with your new pet dog?"

Arha fought free of Feng-Lung's stroking hand and ran at the meditating form of XJ-V.

"Arha's machine-man has gotten a new pet!?" she wailed. "Oh, devious, two-timing XJ! It seems that men are men, even if they are made of steel!"

XJ-V opened his eyes and gave a steely chuckle as he reassured the teary-eyed Huli.

"I much prefer your company to Fai-Deng's, Arha. This is mostly because you do not try to kill me."

"Hmpf!" the spirit pouted. "Is that the standards Cogs set for their loyal companions?"

"I agree with the Huli," Feng-Lung said. "I still cannot believe you convinced Master Yoma-Dur to bring that hound to heel."

The moon rose like a ball of frozen sapphire over the clouded winter skies. Evening drew in with a brisk chill that ate at the bones of man and machine alike, but Feng-Lung had insisted that they stick out their meditation session in the monastery courtyard. The boy had said that the cool air of the outside would produce an effect on the flow of Qi, and that a winter Dao-Walk could only be safely conducted in the open. Malicious spirits waited upon those who dwelled in the dark.

"I am more surprised by you, Feng-Lung," XJ-V said, eyeing his friend who seemed to only have eyes for the walls of Ramor-Tai's gates in this moment. Really, during their entire session of deep breathing and Qi channeling, preparing to walk the Dao as a pair, the Cog had noticed his friend was possessed by a far more somber mood than usual.

"Why?" the boy asked. "Because I showed mercy to the man that tried to kill me? We both did that, XJ-V. I am not about to sully my reputation as a Cultivator over some brash Tiger who now trips under his own tail."

XJ-V smiled, trying to catch his friend's eyes while Arha snuggled into his lap. "There are a great many things about you which confuse me."

Feng simply laid his head in his hands and ran his fingers over his bald, tattooed skull.

"Go on, then."

"Why you first sat with me out here," XJ-V continued. "Why you continue to train me even though you have your own path to follow. You have already reached Rank 3 of Corporeal Tempering. Right now, you should be focused on honing your own skills."

"Really?" Feng-Lung said, yawning and lying down on the icy ground of the courtyard, watching the last petals of the chrysanthemums trickle down to the ground. "Is that what you would do in my situation?"

"It is what a Cultivator would do."

"That wasn't my question."

Feng-Lung looked at XJ-V with an intensity that did not become him. The Cog was once again surprised. He expected nothing but good humor from the youth.

"I – am sorry, Brother," he said, turning over and wiping his nose. "This season puts me in a poor mood."

XJ-V shuffled forwards, still maintaining his meditative stance. He allowed time to pass. He gave his Brother space. He knew that words were only useful when a human did not wish to speak. And, judging by the flow of Qi he could sense building up around Feng-Lung's head and pallid mouth, his Brother certainly wished to say something. So, the Cog simply listened.

"Master Longhua has told me I must speak of my demons in order to dispel them," the boy finally said, rolling over on his side. "But the old man does not know…he does not know the burden of the thoughts I have."

XJ-V's eyes flared. "You are possessed by demons, Feng-Lung?"

"Not in the way you think," the boy replied with a laugh, pointing at his forehead. "These demons are those of the mind."

The Cog looked at him like a confused kitten.
"Can we fight them?" he asked.

At this, Feng-Lung rose to banish any silly notion of fighting his sorrows away when, suddenly, he was seized by an idea.

"…In a manner of speaking…yes, but."

"Then we should do so," XJ-V said with feeling. "I will not allow these demons to take you, no matter how evil they may be."

"Ah!" Feng-Lung said. "There it is – the Cog paladin of justice…"

The boy's fists tightened, deepening XJ-V's confusion.

"XJ-V," he said. "This is the one thing I do not think I can share with you."

"Why not?"

"Because – because I can't. My words are not good enough to give these thoughts voice."

"Brother –"

"I just can't!"

A flurry of snow dripped from the rooftop of Dragonpyre hearth. Somewhere beyond the monastery, the call of a Wasteland creature echoed through the night.

"I – forgive me," Feng-Lung said. "Forgive me, Brother…the Feng-Lung you see before you is not the same Feng-Lung. Like a hungry Aoyin, this thing I am right now has eaten me whole."

XJ-V met his apology with silence, waiting to see if the boy could even look him in his eyes.

"And I fear it will continue to eat me," Feng-Lung whispered. "Every year."

He turned away and barely even looked back as Arha nuzzled into the back of his leg.

"You are lucky to have this creature," Feng-Lung said as he walked on back to his chamber in the commune. "Good night."

XJ-V did nothing else except stare at his departing Brother's back. His fingers twitched. His toes itched to move, and yet his head told him there was nothing he could say to alleviate whatever pain was currently traveling through Feng-Lung's troubled mind.

"You know what Arha thinks?" Arha whispered in his ear. "Arha thinks all Cultivators are stuck in their own heads."

Stuck in their heads…

That was exactly what Fai-Deng said was my weakness. But can demons of the mind truly be beaten out of a human?

If they could, he'd find a way. He'd found a way to do much in the short time he'd been here. He'd had his own demons to banish, and he had pushed through just fine. It was time to help another do the same.

As he stroked Arha's fuzzy forehead, XJ-V made up his mind then and there that he had a new objective: he would cheer up his Brother before winter was through or die trying.

###

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[SkyMan437]

Thanks for the chapter and great work so far.

 

[IronLung]

The next few days were a blur of activity.

XJ-V spent his days engaged in silent meditation with Arha curled up round his neck like a shawl or training with Fai-Deng. Within the week he had mastered the Dragontail Swipe and perfected his Dragon Tooth. With these two techniques under his steely belt he had the bread and butter of the Eternal Dragon combat style. He could already feel his body adjusting to the increasing flow of Qi that awakened each Chakra at the root of the soul that lay beneath his metal heart.

His meditations, ironically, were causing him far more trouble than Fai-Deng's furious Katas. Whenever he entered the Dao he felt the same pull towards the spectral array of flashing, brilliant light that he knew, deep down, would bring him nothing but oblivion. He resisted, listening to Arha's voice, feeling her claws tug at his face to pull him back to reality, but never forgot the sights he saw wrapped within the fog-drenched realm that was once the Heavens themselves: he saw the great gilded palaces of Qing, beautiful and resplendent, that were now lost to time. He saw the moving images of his flight from burning Hensha, and his eventual trek to Ramor-Tai. His eyes beheld the Wasteland from on high, covered by greying clouds, and he grimaced at the ugliness of its craggy mountains, corrupted shores, and jagged settlements. But by far the most vivid vision he beheld was that of a man clad in an onyx cloak walking through the dead winds of the wastes – a snake wriggling its way towards Ramor-Tai.

He returned to the waking world before he could float down to see the face of the man, and often had to remind himself through application of physical pain that he was back in the real world, in his chamber, watching the fading light of the outside through his oval window.

"Finally!" Arha snapped from the top of his head. "Arha was starting to think you would sleep all day!"

He placed an arm on his chest and concentrated on the fire within him.

Anima Cores: 115

115…he thought. His Qi gathering potential was growing, alright. 120 would see him rise to Rank 3 of Corporeal Temperer. All he needed was more time…

"Oh, now what are you thinking about?" the Huli snapped at his face. "Honestly, Arha can just go away and leave you here, y'know. Her sisters would welcome her back. Arha's sisters love her and appreciate her! You know Arha can just…c…can just…"

XJ-V had begun scratching the fox behind its ears. It's weakest spot.

"This Cog would not allow that," he told her. "He needs his spirit guide."

The Huli buckled instantly, her eyes consumed by the ecstasy of an animal in its element.

"T-this is a dirty trick, d-devious machine!" Arha mewled. "Arha will resist. Arha will…will…"

The fox-spirit flopped on its back and wriggled in pleasure.

"I wish my mind could be as simple as yours, Arha," he said. "For there are things I see that I still cannot believe. Perhaps it is because I am a machine and not a man. Perhaps the Dao shows me things a machine cannot, or should not, comprehend."

That face he saw…there was a connection he was missing between it and the problem of his friend's recent malaise. Feng-Lung had barely left his chambers in the last week. He had not even responded to Mah-Jung or XJ-V's knocking at his door. He had taken his meals there and closed himself off from the rest of the world, sunken in his misery.

That face that haunts me…there is a connection…

He was brought out of his reverie by the little creature nibbling at his static fingertips.

"Did Arha tell you to stop?" she asked through her drooling mouth.

XJ-V smiled as he resumed his petting, trying to forget about the new face that had haunted his Dao-Walks of late.

Because that face – the face of the warrior caked with dirt and grime, moving serpent-like through the uncaring wastes – it bore a striking resemblance to Feng-Lung's.

…


That evening, there was a great uproar in the Eternal Dragon commune.

XJ-V had emerged from his chamber leaving the sleeping Arha to rest in her bliss, and had wished to try and entice his friend out of his isolation again. He was instead hit by a wave of excited Disciples running the length of the commune halls, shouting about something incredible that was about to happen at the gates of Ramor-Tai.

One of the new young initiates bumped against XJ-V's shoulder and immediately bust into a string of embarrassed apologies:

"I – I am sorry, Cog-Brother!" he screeched like a mouse that had stepped on a lion's tail.

XJ-V waved away young Disciple's worries. The monastery didn't always take in new initiates, but the few that had come and were found worthy in the past few months had taken to viewing XJ-V as a kind of God-like figure among the other Cultivators. They feared his metal skin, yes, but they also acknowledged how much progress he had made in such a short time, how he had demonstrated skills in persuading both Masters to reverse their decisions, and how he even trained with the fiery Fai-Deng of the Tiger Sect.

If he was being honest, he would much prefer they simply looked upon him as another Brother of the Sects like them.

"Peace, Brother Manus'na," he said. "Do you know what has the entire monastery in such an uproar?"

The Disciple perked up, jumping at the chance to deliver unheard news to the Cog: "We have heard news on the winds that a Planeswalker of Ramor-Tai is returning tonight!"

Planeswalker…a word I have heard before. Yet it is a word not even the library of Gira holds information on…

XJ-V let the initiate go and began following the crowd, becoming absorbed in the flow of their excitement. As the congregation of Brothers swelled and spilled out into the monastery courtyard, XJ-V saw that the entire night sky was ablaze with amaranthine light – something that could not have been natural. Around the monastery Disciples from both Sects were climbing up the rooftops, running along the length of the great halls, and floating high above the tips of the great chambers of the Masters to get a look at whoever this new visitor was that was apparently going to arrive.

He then felt a powerful hand grab his shoulder from behind.

"Brother Cog!" Mah-Jung shouted over the din of the crowd. "A fine night to witness a legend, is it not?"

XJ-V's mind raced towards his question: "Who is this 'Planeswalker', Mah-Jung? Why is his arrival drawing such a crowd?"

Mah-Jung drew his robot companion close and whispered as though he were imparting a grave secret. "Rarely are they talked about, Brother, but all Cultivators of the Sects know and revere them almost as much as they do the wise Masters."

Mah-Jung ascended in his Dragon-Leap and took XJ-V with him, stopping to float amidst the other experienced Cultivators of the monastery.

"Ho-ho! Behold who it is, Brother Fai! Your lover has taken a new partner!"

The voice had come from the Eastern portion of the crowd, and through the swells of laughter from the Tiger Sect Disciples, XJ-V saw Kai-Thai waving to him and Mah-Jung below, prodding the irritated looking Fai-Deng beside him.

"Brother Kai!" Mah-Jung replied. "One of these days, we shall do battle with jokes and wit, and see who is the true funny-man of Ramor-Tai!"

"On that day shall you fall, Mah-Jung!" Kai-Thai shouted back.

The Cog smiled and waved to his Brothers of the Tiger, being unsurprised entirely that Fai-Deng did not return the gesture. But what did surprise him was the glint of excitement that the young warrior could not fully suppress – the tapping of his feet and the grating of his nails on his arms suggested an almost childlike expectation.

And if this Planeswalker was someone that impressed Fai-Deng, he must be a powerful man indeed.

"The Planeswalkers," Mah-Jung continued as they both picked out the silhouette of a man appearing from the lip of the ten-thousand steps. "Those born to a single Sect who, after achieving the rank of Core Regulator, deign to walk the earth of the wastes – battling through the evils of the physical and spirit world to reach the four corners of the earth where the other monasteries lie. There, they train with each different Sect until they have mastered all known techniques beneath the sun."

XJ-V heard the words with the kind of blank reverence a child does when they are told the earth is round – the information was simply such a stark contradiction to everything he knew about Cultivation that it simply defied belief.

But as the figure of the cloaked man appeared at the gates, XJ-V forgot about all logic he knew.

"You know something, Brother?" Mah-Jung said with a sly smile. "I think we both deserve front-row seats for this. Don't you?"

Without warning the brash Disciple launched them both through the air and let XJ-V go just above the thin beam of Ramor-Tai's gateway. The Cog laughed in the face of his friend's bravado and summoned two Dragon-Tooth punches to ease his fall on the gate beam. Mah-Jung enacted his own little flourish – spinning through the air with ten threads of ruby-red flames spilling out from his fingertips and twirling round his body as he landed perfectly on his tiptoe beside XJ-V.

The crowd of Cultivators cheered for them below, their forms silhouetted by the dazzling lightshow of the sky. But more than anything, XJ-V wished Feng-Lung could be here to see this. In this moment, he finally felt accepted by his Brothers.

"A Cog."

The gruff, cold voice came from beneath the gate and instantly silenced every Disciple in the courtyard. The world seemed to stop on its axis as every Cultivator there sensed the sheer volume of Qi that was emanating from the man who had just spoken those words up at XJ-V. His stocky, broad-shouldered form shifted a little as he removed his onyx hood to reveal a dark face lined with the tattoo of a pale crescent moon – one that trailed down his nose and cheeks like it formed the varicose veins of his face itself.

And XJ-V's eyes widened as he realized he'd seen this face before – it was him. The snake. The wanderer. The man who saw him as he walked the Dao…

For a moment, no one said anything at all, and the collective eyes of the entire Ramor-Tai monastery were focused on the face of the Planeswalker as he stared up at the Cog, his thin, slitted lips slowly forming into a smile.

"A Cog Cultivator," he said. "I bet old Longhua just loves you."

###

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[IronLung]

The hulking bear of a man looked up at XJ-V and smiled through his luminescent moon tattoo.

"A Cog Cultivator," he said. "I bet you've been giving old Longhua a headache, eh?"

Amidst a sea of awestruck silence, XJ-V simply smiled back at the Planeswalker.

"I think most people do."

"Har!" the Planeswalker yelped. "A Cog after my own heart! Looks like there might just be hope for the old man yet. What's your name, Brother?"

"XJ-V. I'm happy to mee-"

With a single, fluid twist of his torso the Planeswalker suddenly ascended to the heavens and rocketed back down to stand, with the grace of a practiced dancer, beside XJ-V and Mah-Jung.

"Glad to meet you, XJ-V," he said. "I'm sure we'll get along famously."

The cloaked Planeswalker then turned his attention to the rest of the Cultivators below and bellowed down at them – voice augmented, XJ-V was sure, with tremendous quantities of Qi to allow it to travel.

"Brothers of Ramor-Tai!" he yelled. "It is good to be home!"

The sea of trepidation instantly became a tsunami of good cheer, Disciples throwing their fists into the air and cheering the name of the Planeswalker who towered over them all.

"Ori'un! Ori'un!"

Ori'un…XJ-V pondered, looking up at the broad-shouldered man who waved like a boisterous schoolboy to his old Brothers. It was like a long lost family member returning home.

The wrinkled upon his face had faded away with his smile, almost like a snake shedding his skin.

And just like that creature writhing in the dark corners of the earth, XJ-V could sense a grim necessity that hid behind Ori'un's eyes.

"Brother Ori'un!" Mah-Jung cried. "Come, you must taste of our Baijiu. Ours is the sweetest nectar of all the Sects – as I'm sure you remember. Or have you grown too fond of the dry wines of Nocturnus?"

Ori'un grinned at his Brother's request, but shook his hand firmly.

"In time, my good Dragon, in time!" he said. "Right now, I have business with you-know-who."

Mah-Jung cocked his eyebrow.

"Trouble in the wastes?" he asked.

XJ-V looked to the gradually darkening face of the Planeswalker before he re-equipped his candid, toothy smile.

"Always such an overstepper," he said to Mah-Jung. "I remember when you were ye-high," he said, indicating his shinbone. "Even then you asked me what sights I saw out there. But there are things hidden in the ruins of Qing's empire that are best kept hidden."

Unbeknownst to the wailing crowd, Mah-Jung's smile dropped completely.

"Har!" Ori'un shouted. "Watch this one, Cog," he nudged XJ-V. "He loves to poke his big nose where it doesn't belong!"

Without waiting for either man to answer, the Planeswalker rocketed from the gate beam to the center of the crowd, his balled fist carving a crater into the courtyard and then, without even thinking about it, repairing the blasted tiles as though he hadn't just torn them apart.

"After my meeting with Longhua," he said. "I shall drink with all you boys - the Cultivators of the greatest Sects! Tigers and Dragons, side by side in arms, let us make this a night that shall live on in the annals of the wasteland!"

"Tell us of your adventures, Brother!" Kai-Thai shouted to the postulating traveler. "What do they say of us in the Limra oasis? Or in the stuffy castles of Raz'Han's Ring? Do the nomads of the Everdark Tundra sing our praises? Or does the process of thawing their tongues from stones keep them too occupied?"

To all these questions Ori'un simply held up a swarthy hand and batted them away like invisible ghosts, glittering shades of emerald and ruby following his fingers like cobras slithering around totem-poles.

Before he could make another bombastic response, however, there was a lull in the excitement.

The eyes of the Planeswalker flew to meet those of the old man who had just emerged from his chamber, fixing him with a stern stare that, even for him, seemed cold.

"Longhua," Ori'un said with a curt bow.

The Master turned away and began walking right back the way he came.

"You have an hour," he called back from the doorway of his private chambers. "Make it count."

The crowd's silence was just as overwhelming as the roar of ther celebrations, but, as usual, the Planeswalker alleviated all their concerns.

"See you in an hour's time, my Brothers!" he yelled. "Break out the good glasses for me, won't you?"

XJ-V watched him wave and shake the hands of all the Disicples, Tiger and Dragon, that greeted him as he waded through the crowd towards Longhua's chamber.

"Mah-Jung," the Cog asked his rather stunned companion. "Is it possible to see glimpses of the future through the Dao?"

Mah-Jung seemed transfixed by the sight of the Planeswalker's departing back. "Hm? Oh, it has been known. But the Dao is an elusive mistress. Sometimes it shows us the past, sometimes the present and future, and sometimes a distorted mix of all three. Why do you ask, Brother?"

"Because," XJ-V said. "I saw that man coming."

The Cog had expected only laughter to spill from the throat of his normally jovial Brother. But, curiously, Mah-Jung scratched his chin and considered his statement.

"Interesting…" he said. "Did you happen to see what he was coming here for?"

XJ-V shook his head. It was true – he didn't know a thing about this man or his purpose. But from the look Longhua gave him, and the chilling stare he had fixed XJ-V with in the dream realm of the Dao, the Cog suspected the news he had of the outside probably didn't bode well for any of them.


…


He retired to his room with Arha as the other Disciples rummaged around to prepare dinner and drinks for their long-lost hero.

XJ-V would've aided them in their exploits – he certainly had a vested interest in hearing the stories the Planeswalker of the wastes might have. But his mind was wracked with a more pressing question that he knew he wouldn't get a straight answer to.

"What is he here for?" he asked the lithe form of Arha stretching by the window. "And what is the connection to Feng-Lung? Why wouldn't he emerge to see the Ori'un come home? These questions are haunting my Dao-Walks. Perhaps it is a sign that I must discover what secrets this man holds."

He glanced up at Arha as she yawned in his face.

"Perhaps a being native to the Dao could help me?" he asked

"Don't look at Arha - Arha doesn't know," the Huli replied. "The Dao is never obvious enough for you mortals. You all never can just go with the flow, can you?"

"You sound like Master Longhua," XJ-V smiled.

The Huli straightened up. "I sure hope not!"

"It is a compliment, Arha. It means you are becoming wiser. Maybe you will be an old, wise fox soon."

The eyes of the little spirit bulged.

"…old?"

XJ-V was suddenly possessed by a sense of mischief.

"Ah, yes," he said, concealing his smile from the spirit. "After all, Longhua would not give his Disciples any help. He would have them figure out their own solutions to problems. He would also leave them to be miserable even though he could help them if he wished. Yes. It seems harshness and aloofness are the markers of the old."

"Harshness! Not Arha! Never Arha. Say these things are not true, XJ-V!"

She was pawing at his leg like a kitten scared its owner was about to leave.

He went in for the kill.

"And you know what they say about people when the get old," he said. "They never like their heads being patted. I suppose my fingers will just have to find a nice, smooth dragon statue to pet instead."

"NO!" Arha erupted. "Ok. Okokokokok – maybe there is something Arha can do to help you."

She shuffled in XJ-V's lap, lifted a spectral paw, and then laid it on his hand. He felt a surge of energy wash through him, like an electric charge running up to short circuit his systems. Immediately he gasped in pain and then – then the sensation was nullified.

And he was looking up at himself, staring down at Arha with dulled eyes.

"Arha?"

He saw his own metallic lips move. He heard his own voice speak right back at him.

What…

"Qi transferal, my good machine!" Arha's voice thundered in his mind. "We Hulis are known to have many tricks up our…paws. For a little while, you can see through Arha's eyes. You can see what she sees and hear what she hears!"

A snap of raw energy buzzed in his brain and he was back in his own body, looking down at the proud little fox.

"I…I see…" he said. "But how does that..?"

"Oh. XJ-V!" Arha moaned. "Must Arha explain everything to her Cog? The big snake man goes to meet with old stinky Longhua, right? So, Arha can sneak in, hide, and let you see what is being said!"

XJ-V merely stared down at his spirit guide for a few moments as he processed the magnitude of what she had just said.

Then, all at once, he flew into an excited craze.

"Arha!" he cried, grabbing her and planting a steel kiss on her spectral face. "You have done it! This is how we shall learn the Planeswalker's mysteries!"

The fox creature blushed. "Praise me more then! Arha needs head-scratchie – hey!"

XJ-V had already thrown open the door to his chamber, taking up the Huli in his arms.

"Wh-what are-"

"You are a genius spirit, Arha," he told her as he marched towards Feng-Lung's chamber. "You have just shown me how to solve two problems at once."

###

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[IronLung]

Chaps up earlier today than usual! Enjoy your weekend, everyone


XJ-V snuck stealthily through the Eternal Dragon commune. This was made difficult by the fact he stuck out like a sore thumb, but to the Disciples who were currently engaged in making preparations for their Planeswalker hero, he walked without leaving a trace.

"XJ-V," Arha twittered under his arm. "Where are we –"

The excitement of her metal man throwing open the door to Feng-Lung's chamber completely cut through the fox's question.

"I – XJ-V!" Feng-Lung gasped. He had been dozily meditating on his bed for what must have been the whole day, his discarded meal trays tossed aside like he was a petulant little boy. "What-"

"Feng-Lung," the Cog stated as he moved forward and closed the door behind him. "I have come to save you."

The youthful Disciple blinked, first at him, and then at Arha who shrugged helplessly.

"Have you gone insane!?" the boy shouted. "Has that sly Mah-Jung finally distilled a Baijiu that can affect the stomach of a Cog? Explain yourself!"

XJ-V stepped forward again with the determination of an ironclad beast of the wastes. Feng-Lung had to stop himself from falling away from the Cog.

"I have come to tell you that I have found out the answer to the mystery of your heart," he said.

Feng-Lung blushed a shade of rouge the Cog had never seen before.

"Wh-that is – XJ-V you have the wrong ide-"

The Cog pushed Arha in front of the youth's face and brimmed with joy.

"This spirit is more powerful than we thought," he said. "It turns out she can give us a glimpse through her eyes as though we were inhabiting her tiny body."

While Arha complained about the reference to her tiny form, informing XJ-V that she was, in fact, perfectly well-grown for her age, Feng-Lung looked through the creature to the smiling Cog behind.

"And?" he asked.

"You are a man possessed by curiosity, Feng-Lung," XJ-V said. "You have imagination. The fact that the Planeswalker is here right now must be filling you with such yearning to ask him questions that he will not answer. It must be driving you crazy! I have heard that humans are infected by insanity when they do not get things they wish. I finally understand why you have locked yourself away."

The Cog nodded fervently at his own analysis, while Feng-Lung just stared blankly at him for a few moments.

Then, for the first time in the past week, he started to laugh. He laughed so much that he doubled over and fell to the floor.

He is struck by my insight, XJ-V thought as he watched the youth roll around in tears. Perhaps my entrance was too abrupt…

Meanwhile, Feng-Lung wiped the water from his eyes and couldn't help but look endearingly at his Brother.

Oh, how someone can be so wrong and right at once! he thought. I have been a fool, XJ-V. I have made trouble for you all this time over both more, and less, than you think.

"My Brother Cog," he finally said. "Why would this Huli's ability change anything about tha…"

The boy stopped as the realization slowly crept up on him.

"No. You mean to…"

"Yes," XJ-V whispered. "We shall use Arha here to spy on Longhua and Ori'un. We shall learn such secrets that no one else shall be privy to. Not even Mah-Jung."

Feng-Lung had to admit, that did sound appealing. But the Cultivator in him displayed shock at this notion – the very idea! Betraying the trust of the Master of the Eternal Dragon? Who would dare?

"You think to lift my spirits by breaking the sacred rules of Ramor-Tai?" he asked, coming to resume his meditative state. "You think I will perk up if I know the things Ori'un says to our Master? You think my curiosity is so great that I cannot contain myself – that I cannot sleep at night without knowing things I ought not to know?"

It was now XJ-V's turn to stare blankly at his human friend.

"Yes," he said. "Of course."

After a brief period of pouting and wriggling in place, Feng-Lung then took little Arha in his hands and smiled.

"Well…you would be right."

…

The pitter-patter of spectral paws on the stone floors of Master Longhua's chamber went unheard by the only two men sitting across from each other in the room.

Well, the only two men physically present.

Arha found herself a small nook beside the ceiling beams of the chamber, giving her a bird's eye view of both the venerable Cultivators currently enjoying some piping hot Longjing tea below.

"Arha is in position," the spirit whispered.

Within the creature's brain, two excited voices barked back at her.

Good job, Arha!

Back in Feng-Lung's room XJ-V and his Brother sat in meditative poses, eyes closed to the world but moving behind their lids to prospect Arha's vision of the Planeswalker and Master Longhua.

Honestly, the Huli sighed. You are like two boys peeping in a mistress' brothel!

"Shhh!" both men whispered in her mind, forcing her to return to the sight of Longhua and Ori'un placing their empty cups down before them.

"Well?" the Planeswalker asked.

Longhua breathed in deep, craning his head to look up at the spiral-dragon fresco behind him.

"Awful," he said. "As usual."

Ori'un shrugged hopelessly. "It can't be helped! No Disciple has ever made tea that can satisfy Master Longhua's taste. Not even tea imbued with the flavor of the outside world."

"Such flavor," Longhua said. "Leaves a particularly bitter taste in one's mouth."

XJ-V registered a hint of anger burning beneath Longhua's words. More than usual.

"Indeed," Ori'un replied with a dry smile. "Well, some things never change."

The men allowed a moment of silence to pass between them, before Ori'un finally threw his arms wide to take in the whole chamber.

"I remember the first time I walked through these halls," he said. "The beating you gave me. I think I still bare the burns of your tutelage, Master Longhua. The only other strict Master that compares would be Master Amygdalis. You know that, up there in Nocturnus, he requires his newest Disciples to face eachother in mortal combat blindfolded? Such are the ways of the Waning Moon, I suppose – always walking through darkness. Isn't it ironic, then, that they seem to see further than the rest of us?"

Longhua seemed too bored to entertain this question.

"Why have you come back?" he asked. "The year is not yet done. You were not expected."

Ori'un was not offended by his former Master's tone. "Master, you truly haven't changed."

"Do not call me 'Master'. You forsook the right to my training when you took up the mantle of adventurer."

"Har!" Ori'un laughed. "And such adventures I have had, my old Master! The world of the Wastes is a harsher teacher even than you. Shall I tell you of the shadows lurking in the Iron Forest? Or the three-headed Chimei that roam the mountains of Shamis? No, I see you do not care to know these things. But as I have seen – and learned – these many, many years, I hoped to return and find that you had developed in kind. Here I was thinking that you might have come to understand the need for innovation after all this time. At your gateway I met a Cog – a Cog! – who calls himself one of us. Is it true, Longhua? Have you really allowed such a being to enter our ranks?"

"He is more deserving of a place among us than you are," Longhua replied.

XJ-V was confused by the Master's anger, but even so, he felt his chest swell with pride.

"I'm not here to win a popularity contest," Ori'un continued. "I'm here because, in spite of what you might think, your teachings still mean something to me."

He pointed a pudgy finger up at the spiral of the Eternal Dragon above them, looking upon it, both XJ-V and Feng-Lung could tell, with nostalgic adoration.

"The Eternal Dragon," he said. "You remember what you told us all? The first novices to walk through these doors? You said the dragon's spiral form is no coincidence. The dragon's body traces the earth and catches its tail on the other side. It does this to tell us that every journey only ends with a return."

XJ-V was surprised to hear this. He had never heard Longhua tell this thing to any of them.

Neither have I, for that matter, Feng-Lung whispered in their shared space of Arha's mind.

"If you have come here looking for a warm hearth to lay down your head," Longhua said. "You have quite a way of showing it. You come before us with the symbol of another Sect, and now you wish to renounce your title which you took up against my advice and that of Master Yoma-Dur. Is it any wonder I am reticent to listen to you quote my own words back at me?"

Longhua straightened up, ready to initiate combat if need be.

"Now tell me plainly," he said. "What do you want?"

In the encroaching darkness of Longhua's chamber, Ori'un's face then suddenly grew grave. Even looking at him through another pair of spectral eyes, XJ-V felt his limbs tense up to see that joyful face take on such a sudden change.

"Yes," he said. "I bear the markings of the Waning Moon, for they were to be the second-last stop on my journey. But as I bid them a fond farewell, and went to seek out the Bending Reed, Master Amigdalis had words to impart on me."

Here it comes, Feng-Lung muttered.

"They were words of prophecy," Ori'un continued. "Of foretelling – for as you well know the gift of prescience is a specialty of the Waning Moon Cultivators. Master Amigdalis believed the words the Dao had gifted to him were words I was destined to hear. He did not instruct me in what to do with the information he bestowed, and so I was guided by nothing more than your words, Longhua – words that I still believe to this day. It is those words that have brought me back here, to tell you of what the Waning Moon has seen coming for us all."

Longhua's white brows rose, but his eyes remained narrowed.

"Well?" he asked. "You have my fleeting interest. Tell me what those of the Northern Sect speak of."

And the words that left the Planeswalker's lips chilled both XJ-V and Feng-Lung even from within their dream-realm:

"War, Longhua," he said. "War."

###

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[torac]

Huli is truly a good spirit.

Not sure why "war is coming" is supposed to be a prophecy only a few people should hear. Seems like it would be easier to prepare for if more people knew about it. I guess that is why I'm not a prophet, though. Probably some bad consequences or something…

 

[IronLung]

The Master of the Eternal Dragon locked eyes with the Planeswalker as he delivered the message from the Waning Moon Sect.

"War is coming, Longhua," he said. "Of that, there can be no mistake."

XJ-V felt Feng-Lung's physical form tense up beside him even in the dream-space they both occupied in Arha's head.

Longhua considered the wobbling surface of his green tea.

"The portents of Amigdalis are often as susceptible to change as the water that flows in the valleys below our mountain. They are also as unwieldy. Uncertain. Time is not a linear path, but a forked one."

"The Master of the Waning Moon is knowing these things far more than we are, Longhua."

"Cease your arrogance," the Master suddenly spat. "Not even the Master of the Moons can know the path of fate to a certainty."

"Unless," Ori'un said gravely. "All paths converge on a single point in time."

Both men met the steely-eyed gaze of the other. Though no punches were thrown, XJ-V felt that they were locked in a battle just as fearsome as his own with Fai-Deng.

"That point is now, Longhua," the Planeswalker said. "Surely you have seen the signs – the fluctuations in Qi. The mists that cloud the Dao."

"Such things should always be unknown to us," the Master said with pursed lips.

"Har!" the Planeswalker croaked. "Then you have felt it. But you have done nothing."

"I have done my duty as Master of the Eternal Dragon."

"Which is what, Longhua?" Ori'un suddenly shouted. "Corral young men up here and have them stare into the blank void while the world burns outside? The Waning Moon told me of the cause, even as I dared to dispute them. Even as I dared to dispute what these eyes have seen. Only as I shared in the vision of the Master did I realize my hubris in believing I, alone, could stop what was coming: golden wings in the East, storming through ash and laying waste to the sands, turning brother against brother and salting the earth where their blood ebbs and flows, until nothing but a red sea remains, drowning all who do not look to the Eagle's golden skies."

XJ-V felt his chest lurch.

The Eagle…

"These things has the Master seen," Ori'un said, leaning forward, almost begging the Master to believe his words. "These things will transpire –"

"A paranoid dream," Longhua replied, turning his head from his dumbstruck former-student. "One possible future among many. One meant to stir the hearts of impressionable, easily influenced men like you. Even as a boy you were climbing the walls of the Sect to escape us. You wish to be a hero? Be my guest, Ori'un. But leave me out of your delusions."

The Planeswalker's fists clenched – varicose veins popping on his knuckles that shone with otherworldly, purple light. He threw off his cowl and let the Master see the extent of his frustration, now – frustration that must have been boiling beneath his cool surface since first he walked through the monastery gates.

"Uh, oh," Arha whispered.

"Is this what you have come here to tell me?" Longhua scoffed in the face of his anger. "Dreams and superstitions? Tales of Armageddon from the frigid North? You can return to my Brother up there if you wish. Tell him we of Ramor-Tai are –

"I have seen it!" the Planeswalker roared. Then, realizing he had forgotten himself, bowed low and closed his eyes, as though about to recite some macabre prayer.

"I…I have seen it, Longhua," he whispered. "The sultan of Dunerakk has fallen. The deserts around Mongiatsu are in the pocket of the Divine Order. Limra's oasis-towns are nothing but a string of smoking ruins, and the eyes of the High Eagle move ever Southward – pillaging, burning, raping and slaughtering with impunity. They kill with a light that sears the flesh. Their every strike is a strike against the flow of Qi itself."

Ori'un drew back the dark sleeve of his left arm and showed where his flesh had met the skin of a Divine Order warrior's blade.

By the Dao… Feng-Lung murmured.

XJ-V recognized the mark. He understood now why the Planeswalker had garbed himself in his shadowed armor.

Ori'un's arm was a smoking heap of ash, barely still clinging to his bones.

Even Master Longhua inclined his head an inch to prospect the annihilated appendage. It was the closest XJ-V had ever seen the Master's face approach shock.

"The pain is immense," Ori'un continued. "But worse is the effect on the soul. One slice is akin to the extinguishing of the greatest bonfire that burns in all our chests. One single swipe, and even my Earth-Grade techniques were rendered useless."

Feng-Lung twitched beside XJ-V. And, though the latter knew that his Brother had just made a connection that the Cog may soon have to explain, he dared not interrupt the flow of the conversation.

"Longhua," Ori'un said. "This High Eagle has an army. He has the power to strip what defines us from our hearts. And he will not stop, ever, until we are wiped off what remains of this earth. Us, and all that remains of Qing's legacy."

The Master said nothing. His eyes did not drop from Ori'un's desperate face. His silence seemed to only further galvanize the Planeswalker's conviction.

"Two years ago, the Order crossed into the Taiala Badlands," he explained. "The Warlords who reign there saw their transgression as provocation and began hostilities. Even now, the ground of the Badlands bleeds with the blood of Qing's children, Longhua, and the High Eagle will not stop with them. Two years ago, he razed the border town of Hensha to the ground – killing its residents to the man."

"This does not make sense," the Master finally said. "The Order bleeds itself dry. It commits vital resources and manpower to wholesale slaughter without purpose."

"There was purpose," Ori'un replied gravely. "He is searching for something."

Both men locked eyes again, and it seemed to XJ-V that there was a silent understanding that seemed to pass between them. Even so, Ori'un went on, determined to hammer home the grim point he had to come to.

"You know the power that can leave these marks," the Planeswalker said, indicating his ruined arm. "There can be no mistake."

"A lie," Longhua said. "A lie born of superstition."

"Can you still not face reality?" Ori'un countered. "It takes a strong man, indeed, to deny that which is plainly in front of him."

"I told you to cease your disrespect in my chambers or-"

"Yuwa," the Planeswalker said, cutting off the Master with force the likes of which XJ-V had never seen. "The High Eagle is the champion of the slain God of Light. Through our destruction does he seek resurrection."

"The High Eagle is a mortal born of unchecked ambition," Longhua replied after composing himself. "He is a child tearing the legs from insects, crying for his dead God to come home. If he makes war upon the blasted ruins that remain of Qing's realm, then so be it. His Order will fall as all the Warlords of the Wastes have fallen – by stretching itself too thin. Conquerors have come before, Ori'un – you know this better than most. They have burned themselves out like the weakest of stars in the night sky. We have always endured."

"I wonder," the Planeswalker said. "Could you tell a child of Tiala to simply 'endure' as his mother is violated before his eyes? As his father's heart is speared by a blade composed of starlight? Could you ask him to simply 'wait out' the hell this world has become?"

Ori'un sighed deeply, seeming to retreat into himself as Longhua simply stared back at him, unmoved.

"I expected to come home and see that you had moved on with this world," he said wearily. "I expected age to help you see what must be done. But not even pressure and time can move your stubborn soul. Your wisdom has blinded you, Master."

"And the sun of the wasteland has blinded you, my former student," Longhua replied tetchily, the flames of his candles that lined the hallways beginning to flare and stutter with fiery life. "Have you forgotten the oaths of our Cultivators? When we walk the Dao, we leave this world and all its earthly attachments behind. We take a path – the one true path – towards enlightenment. We are not an army. We do not exist to 'correct' this world, no matter how much you wish us to follow in your footsteps. Our eyes are fixed on Heaven – not on guarding the gates of Hell."

"But what will you do," Ori'un said quietly. "When Hell comes to you?"

Silence fell upon the chamber then, broken only by the minute flickering of the candles that lined the hall. Longhua let the fires abate. He let his rage simmer and settle. And, XJ-V noticed that he did not dismiss Ori'un. Instead, he waited. It was almost like he knew something more had to come.

"If you will not allow your men to fight beside me," he said. "Then I must take what I need by force. I invoke the Mandate of Aun'el. By right of mortal combat, one of your Cultivators belongs to me."

XJ-V saw Longhua close his eyes, as though he literally closed off his vision of the world that had so rudely intruded on the peace of his sanctuary.

"So, there it is," he said. "The true purpose of your visit."

"I take one," Ori'un said. "Or you commit all your people to my cause. The latter option would gain us victory faster. But you leave me no alternative."

"You would have all our Cultivators participate? Our Anima Banishers still dwell in the heart of the mountain."

Ori'un shook his head. "You know I cannot take any above the rank of Corporeal Temperer. Their attunement to the Qi cannot be so fixed on that which swirls around Ramor-Tai alone. Their spirit must still be pliable. An immutable soul is not what the world needs."

Longhua leaned back, inclining his head to look up at the fresco of the coiling Eternal Dragon that loomed above him.

And XJ-V could almost swear that he saw not only Arha hidden in the roof beams of his chamber, but him and Feng-Lung within her head.

Because he smiled right at them.

"One month," he said. "That is how long you shall remain. I will see to it that the proper preparations are made, the proper rituals observed. On the last day of Aun'el's Gauntlet shall you leave with a Cultivator of Ramor-Tai beside you. And this time," Longhua added. "You shall not return."

Despite everything – including the complete annihilation of his trust in his former Master – Ori'un the Planeswalker forced out a wry smile.

"I know it," he said. "I know that all too well, Master."

With that, the meeting came to an abrupt halt, and Arha flew from the ceiling, phased through the roof, and tumbled all the way back to Feng-Lung's chambers to meet her two boys staring at each other with dumbfounded eyes.

"Is Arha good or what?" the Huli asked.

"Feng-Lung," XJ-V asked, completely ignoring Arha's teething on his toes. "What is the Mandate of Aun'el?"

The boy seemed totally rapt, pacing up and down his tiny chamber as his mind raced with new possibilities, new worlds, new whole realities.

Meanwhile, XJ-V was simply trying to make sense of the information overload they'd just experienced.

"Feng!" he shouted.

"This is big, XJ-V," he said. "This…this is bigger than I could have even guessed. And we have the advantage now, you know. They won't announce it till tomorrow morning at the latest. That gives us time to at least make a plan. A strict training regimen. Re-double our efforts. Maybe it would work if –"

"FENG!" The Cog shouted, jumping up and grabbing his friend with both arms. "What is this? It sounds like you are preparing for battle?"

For the first time in almost a month, XJ-V then saw Feng-Lung's mouth twist into his genuine, boyish smile.

"Not a battle, XJ-V," he said. "A tournament."

###

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[IronLung]

XJ-V stared dumbfounded at his companion.

"A tournament…" he parroted. "A contest to decide who the Planeswalker's apprentice shall be."

Feng-Lung nodded, and the Cog thought he witnessed a spark twinkle in his friend's blue eyes.

"Is it truly worth entering?' XJ-V asked. "Perhaps Master Longhua speaks true. Perhaps it is best to remain in Ramor-Tai."

His companion was not to be dissuaded. It was as though XJ-V was looking at the reborn Feng-Lung before him, full of all his boyish excitement and infectious enthusiasm.

"I…am not fond of Ori'un," he admitted. "But if war is coming then we must be ready. Even if we are not chosen as the Planeswalker's charge, the tournament will be the opportunity to prove ourselves to the Master. With luck, he may even accelerate our training. He may decide we are worthy enough to learn the advanced techniques beyond those of the Earth Grade. And then," he added with battle-fervor. "If the High Eagle does come, we shall be ready to send his precious Divine Order packing!"

XJ-V pondered his friend's words. He thought of Ori'un's dark face hidden beneath his cloak. He thought of the stain embedded in his arm.

XJ-V had felt the pain he spoke of before…

If there was a chance, even a fleeting one, that he could prevent the same pain being inflicted on others, then he would stand beside his friend – as he would with all the Brothers of Ramor-Tai.

He would not see his new home burn as Hensha did.

So it was that during the night, while the rest of the Disciples of both Eternal Dragon and Waiting Tiger celebrated with the Planeswalker, XJ-V and Feng-Lung spent their time in solemn meditation. They talked between their Dao-Walks of their plans for the tournament – XJ-V offering Feng-Lung the chance to train with Fai-Deng, and Feng-Lung explaining to his Cog Brother what weaknesses he could exploit in the other Disciples.

XJ-V smiled as he listened to his Brother. He could tell, above all else, that the youth was excited about the prospect of the battle to come.

"The greatest opponent will be Mah-Jung," Feng-Lung said covertly, as though the Disciple was listening at his doorway and was not presently outside in the commune getting drunk until all salient thoughts were erased from his mind.

"He has entered the final ring of Corporeal Cultivation," XJ-V countered. "Is it really true that he will delay his meditations so that he can enter the tournament?"

Feng-Lung nodded. "Mah-Jung more than most of us wishes to leave these walls. He would love nothing more than to be seen as a hero of the ruined world outside, de-feathering the High Eagle and bringing his head before us. Mark me, XJ-V, he will be a fearsome opponent for you to overcome."

"Me?" XJ-V asked. "Surely you mean 'we', Feng-Lung? After all, it could be you that ends up facing him."

XJ-V watched Feng's face stiffen for a moment before he responded.

"Ah, yes," he said. "Yes, of course. Let us resume our meditations. You are almost to Corporeal Temperer Rank 3. You must at least pass to Rank 4 to learn the more advanced of the Earth Grade techniques. I think one more draw from the Dao should do it. Are you ready?"

Though confused by Feng's focus on his own quick development, XJ-V merely put such concerns down to Feng being an altruistic young man. He had been ever since he had met him. The boy's preoccupation with the Cog's skills and his interest in his nature was nothing new.

"Okay," he said. "Concentrate. Breathe deep, and feel the light of the Dao grace your steel skin."

XJ-V closed his eyes and listened to Feng-Lung's voice, making sure Arha was beside him just before he began his delve back into the world of limitless, and dangerous, power.

"Honestly," the little fox-spirit groaned. "Haven't I done enough tonight? Arha should be out there swimming in Baijiu, not here with a stuffy Cog and his friend."

"If you help us," XJ-V said with a sly grin. "There will be limitless scratchies for your belly tomorrow morning."

The Huli needed no further persuasion. Almost instantly after he said the words, the Cog felt his soul pulled towards the limitless realm of mountains capped with starlight, and a sky streaked with all the colors of the spectrum.

The beauty, however, was short lived. XJ-V fell from the clouds into the blasted lands of the Wastes, seeing city after city engulfed in flames that had once swept through the entire world and were now on the verge of returning to decimate all that remained. He could feel Feng-Lung flying beside him, similarly looking upon the golden-razor wings of the Eagle that stretched out from the Western hemisphere leaving a trail of orphans and widows on its wake. Its pilliaries pointed towards Ramor-Tai – a bastion shining atop the mountain on the Southernmost edge of Qingua's once proud Dynasty – and saw its light begin to dim.

Then, they plummeted down to bathe in the flames themselves – feeling their flesh – organic and metallic - crisp and crumble away to ash that coated the ruins of the world. Yet their eyes remained to see two figures standing tall amongst the flames that licked at the carcass of the land – two cloaked figures who pulled down their hoods as they looked upon the descending armies of the Eagle without fear, without mercy.

And XJ-V saw, as clear as the reality of Feng-Lung's chamber that was beginning to come back into view, that one figure wore the face of Ori'un.

And the other – the other looked back at him with his own eyes. It was the shadow-self that he had passed through to walk the Dao. It was the beast that dwelled beneath his heart that would come to walk the earth, in time, once again.

When he woke, he did so seeing two things before his eyes.

One: his Anima Cores numbered 132. He had made it to the Third Rank of Corporeal Temperer.

The other sight he beheld was that of Feng-Lung's knowing eyes, as the Cog came to realize the truth in his face.

You don't want to win, he thought, unable to voice that which did not, truly, have to be given voice at all. You…you want it to be me.

…

The next morning, Master Longhua wasted no time in announcing the news to every drunken soul that emerged scratching their heads and wishing the old Master would stay silent for once.

"Cultivators of Ramor-Tai!" he roared to the sun-streaked heavens, amplifying his voice with the strengthened lungs of the ancient dragons. "The Mandate of Aun'El has been invoked! A tournament has been called. Mortal combat – open to all those of Corporeal Tempering rank alone!"

A collective sigh went up from the more experienced members of both Sects. The Mental Masters scoffed and waxed philosophical about the unfair treatment of those more attuned to the earth and the passions of the spirit, while the few Core Regulators merely tutted and went about their days in the Healing Chambers that were their homes.

And the Anima Banishers? They heard nothing at all – for they were still sequestered in the dark depths of the mountain, with two more summers before any would ever emerge.

But the novices of the monastery paid attention alright. A murmur of unchecked anticipation ran through them, and almost instantly XJ-V noticed each Brother sizing up the other, inspecting their muscle mass with almost scientific precision.

"And what shall be our prize, good Master of the Dragons!" Kai-Thai of the Waiting Tiger called out from the bustling crowd in the courtyard.

Master Longhua simply flourished the long wrists of his robe in response, casting a spiteful eye towards the roof of the Eternal Dragon where Ori'un was smiling at him.

"I am sure you can figure it out, good Tiger," the Master said as he took his leave, ignoring the almost mass hysteria he had caused amongst the Disciples.

XJ-V felt something firm knock against his ribs, and, turning to fend off what he perceived to be an attack, noticed Fai-Deng standing behind him.

"Your rank, XJ-V."

The Cog blinked, seeing the determination burn in the Tiger's face.

"I made it to rank three last nigh-"

"Good," he said. "That is enough. We will spar in ten minutes. Do not be late!"

Fai-Deng marched off without even waiting for his sparring partner's consent, leaving XJ-V blinking amidst the excited crowd.

"You are lucky, Brother," the calm, smooth voice of Mah-Jung said beside him. "Not all of us have a sparring partner that pushes us to fight for our lives."

The youth wore the purple, drake-embroidered-robes of the Ninth Rank Corporeal Temperers – of which there were perhaps only a handful in the entire monastery and who, XJ-V noticed, were the least concerned of all those assembled this morning.

Well, of course they are, XJ-V found himself thinking. It is one of them that shall take the title. For it is they that deserve it.

The Cog cupped his hands and bowed low to his friend, showing his superior the proper respect. He knew just how much Qi Mah-Jung could control. It was almost futile to think he could stand a chance against him.

"I will be honored to watch your performance in the bouts to come, Brother," XJ-V said with a smile.

It was a smile, however, that Mah-Jung did not return.

"You speak as though you will not participate, my Cog Brother," Mah-Jung replied, almost sounding hurt by the very notion. "You shall see my performance firsthand. I already know that we shall face each other in this trial."

XJ-V expected to feel his Brother jokingly pat his back or smile his jovial grin. Instead, he saw him look towards the sunbathing image of Ori'un sitting atop the Dragon commune, still sipping on Citra wine left over from the night before.

"It is the only way out," he said – and his voice was barely a whisper. "The invocation of Aun'El means that Planeswalker Ori'un wishes to take the strongest of the monastery's Cultivators away, to join him in his duty to correct the world out there. This is good. It is proper. It is the only way to make what we do have any meaning at all. You agree, do you not, Brother Cog? You have seen what waits outside for us all."

Slightly alarmed by his Brother's candor, XJ-V simply smirked and sighed, trying his best to forget the memories that had haunted him before he first set foot in Ai-Lee's Grove and watched them melt away.

"I have given up on that world," he said. "I think my place is here, among Brothers. I think it is what my Creator wanted of me."

Without missing a single beat, Mah-Jung came back with an answer that hit the Cog like a slap in the face.

"But is it what you want?"

The Cog, even though he could have probably thought of something, was surprised to find that he had nothing to say in response.

"The world out there keeps turning," Mah-Jung went on. "People of the Wastes continue to make the wrong choices. They continue to stray down the path old Qing did, and they continue to obstruct the growth of this world. We can't turn a blind eye to it forever. I suspect even Master Longhua knows this."

XJ-V watched the youth's face warp and change to one of frustration for only a few moments – wrinkles forming round his pouting mouth that XJ-V never even realized were there before.

"I hope you will not think this improper of me, Brother," Mah-Jung finally said. "But if you chose to enter the tournament – I implore you to take it seriously. If you are to fight, fight to win. I would hate to gain victory over someone who did not wish to take the prize I long to hold."

With that, the Master Temperer bowed and took his leave, heading for the training Hall of Dragonpyre hearth to hone his already impressive skills.

And XJ-V was left wondering how much of a scolding Fai-Deng was going to give him for being late to their Kata session, and equally how the always cheerful Mah-Jung had seemingly changed overnight with the promise of freedom now being dangled before him.

It was said by the Prophet Ming'Bao that if one wanted to see the true nature of a man, one must stroke the flames of his ambition and watch his response.

And XJ-V had seen now exactly what his Brother longed for.

He wanted to fly free of these walls – to correct the decadent world that his Master said was just not worth it.

In truth, XJ-V understood. The boy had good intentions. He simply doubted that such intentions, even good ones, could ever change things for the better.

After all, there were plenty of young men who thought they knew what was best for the world

And one of them was out there, right now, burning it to the ground.

###

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[IronLung]

"Focus!" Fai-Deng roared as he sent another arc of lightning flying at XJ-V's right shoulder-joint.

My dominant arm, the Cog thought as he brought his hands up in the swirling motion of the Dragontail swipe. The Tiger is thinking more strategically nowadays.

As he sliced through the strike, feeling the energy from Fai's lightning dance on his fingertips before flying away, XJ-V readied a Dragon Tooth strike that sent his own fireball cascading towards the Fai as he leaped to get within striking range of his opponent.

The Tiger met the blow head on, bringing up both his arms and cutting through the mote of flame, barreling towards XJ-V with speed that would impress even his Sect's Guardian Spirit.

The Cog shifted his weight to the right, swept wide with his left foot and managed to catch Fai's ankle as the latter turned in the air to deliver an electrified roundhouse that could have knocked the Cog's head clean off.

The boy hit the ground, spun, and then was back on his feet in a matter of seconds.

"Hm," he grunted, beads of sweat trailing down his bulging biceps. "Your Siulubu is strong. See how reactive it makes you? With a stance like this, not even your Sect's most precious, purple-clad warrior could break through your defense."

"I would not sell him so short," XJ-V replied.

Fai brought up both his hands, sending a series of cross jabs at XJ-V's torso till the Cog was forced back into a series of Dragontail Strikes, becoming a veritable windmill of blurred motion.

"You think him my better?" Fai asked through his relentless assault.

"I know he could subdue both of us," XJ-V replied, before attempting to sweep Fai's left leg again and forcing the Tiger to leap back the full length of the Symmachus Hall. His Leaping Cat was a move that XJ-V had been particularly interested in observing these last few lessons. What the Fai lacked in defensive power, he more than made up for in speed. His maneverability in an open arena would have probably, at this point, ment certain doom for XJ-V.

However, they were not in an open arena, and the Cog was not beyond using his environment to his advantage.

As soon as he saw the boy twist and somersault back down the length of the hall, surely getting ready for a Static Charge that could render XJ-V utterly paralyzed, the Cog unleashed his newest Earth-technique: the Pyrophoric Whip.

Five thin threads of sizzling flame shot forth from his fingers and glided effortlessly through the air towards Fai-Deng's exposed foot. XJ-V moved his hands swiftly with the dexterity of a practiced dancer to bring the threads round his opponent's right leg like an infernal snake coiling round its prey. By the time Fai-Deng had realized his opponent's trick, XJ-V forced his captured prey down to the ground, smashing him into the reflective glass of the Hall's floor.

The Cog watched the boy stay rooted to the broken crater in the ground for a moment before he rose, cracked his back, and dusted himself off. The glass flooring, as usual, made no mark on his skin, and simply began knitting together the new cracks upon its surface.

"So," Fai huffed. "You have learned some new tricks. Of course, you know that I shall now find an appropriate counter to your technique. That little move shall soon become your weakness."

XJ-V smiled. "I would expect nothing less from you, Brother."

"Hmpf," Fai snorted, heading to the waiting bench beside the far wall and dousing himself with a jug of freshly collected water. "That will be all for today."

XJ-V bowed to his Tiger Brother, but not before becoming transfixed, once again, by the long black scar of his left arm. He found himself wondering, as he often did during their training sessions recently, why the Tiger had never elected to have the thing fully healed.

Fai noticed his staring and cocked his bushy eyebrows at him.

"You will be participating in the tourney of Aun'el, will you not?" XJ-V quickly asked to deflect.

"Of course," Fai replied with characteristic offense. "And I expect an opponent of sufficient caliber. So do not disappoint me. No matter what, I shall be a victor in this tourney. Either I win, and cede the glory of walking the Wastes to another, or I lose and watch you finally leave this place forever. Even if you think Mah-Jung is more potent than either of us, the bout will come down to us, XJ-V. Of that, I have not a doubt in my mind."

XJ-V found himself momentarily lost for words. The way Fai had said these things was in a tone so terse that any observer would think he was rebuking the Cog. But the robot saw through the words to the intention behind them – the fact that Fai, in his own way, had just acknowledged that the Cog he once wished to see broken and destroyed was now one of the finest Corporeal Temperers in the whole monastery.

He was mistaken, of course, but XJ-V would accept the compliment with grace. It was the best sign of respect he was going to get from the Tiger. So, he hid his smirk as Fai inspected his foot in the mirrors of the Hall's wall, seeing the marks left by XJ-V's new 'trick' fade away.

And most Disciples said that the Cog was his punching bag…

"I would be honored to face you, Brother Fai," he said with a respectful bow. "But you are wrong in your assessment. I am not seeking to win the tournament. My place is here, in Ramor-Tai. And it is here that I must remain."

He made to take his leave after that, but wall of sapphire blocked his path – sparking into brilliant life before him and blocking his way out of the Hall.

XJ-V turned to see Fai-Deng looking at him with furious eyes, fingers crackling with electricity.

"Do not insult me or the other Cultivators of this place," he said. "It is you that Longhua favors. It is you that Feng-Lung trains. It is you that I train. You think we do this out of the goodness of our hearts?"

Well, XJ-V thought. I certainly know that you don't…

Fai stepped closer to him, till the only sight that filled the Cog's vision was that of the Tiger's crimson face.

"You think it is coincidence that Planeswalker Ori'un comes back now?" he said. "You think it is mere chance that he comes when a Cog walks among us? There are signs – fluctuations – hidden in the Dao, XJ-V. Even a novice like you must have felt them."

The Cog first stepped away, suddenly more fearful of Fai than he ever had been when the boy came at him with his fists. He stepped back, too, because the words of the boy wrang true.

The face in his dreams…the one that stood beside Ori'un as a horde of evil came seeking to snuff out the light in their hearts…

"Master Yoma-Dur has spoken of this," Fai continued. "He tells us little, but we of the Tiger have learned to read the tight-lips of our Master. He tells us of visions that swim before his mind. Visions he cannot interpret. Already our Core Regulators are whispering that such a vision may be a shared one. In their Dao-Walks they are seeing one of us stand beside the Planeswalker. And the skin he wears is not of flesh."

"No," XJ-V said.

"They speak of worse things to come if this future does not come to pass."

Visions…worse things to come…Ori'un had spoken of what the Master of Nocturnus had said. He had spoken of a cataclysm soon to befall the wasteland.

He had spoken of the High Eagle moving south…

Fai-Deng suddenly gripped the Cog's arms and forced him to face his raging eyes.

"Understand this," he said. "I don't believe you are some savior sent here to aid us. I don't believe in prophesy or the sights that swim behind old men's eyes. I am a Cultivator of the Tiger Sect, and I believe in power."

He held up his grisly arm, forcing XJ-V to see the black-ash that lay thick on the cracked skin.

"You know why I never had the Regulators remove this mark?" Fai asked. "Because it reminds me of what I must endure to grow strong. It reminds me of my failings – failings I have had to learn from. I failed when I faced you before because I rejected the will of the Dao, XJ-V. It is the will of the Dao that you came here. And it is the will of the Dao that you use the power within you to win."

The Cog felt the soul within him flare with potential. Something – something buried deep in his breast – it liked the words the Tiger was spouting. It grew excited, filled with childlike glee, at the prospect of nullifying the Qi that swirled in the Tiger's spirit, and engulfing him in an inferno that would leave him as nothing but cold ash.

"No…" XJ-V murmured, breaking free of Fai's iron grip.

"No," he said again. "That power is unnatural. It is not of the Dao. It is of something else – and I wish you would not insult me by showing me, every time we train, what evil I am capable of."

He said these things before he even realized they came tumbling out of his mouth. When he looked back up at his Brother, he was caught by the look he saw resting on that once furious face. For there was sorrow, there. Sorrow, and pity.

"I…I must go," he told Fai-Deng. "Train well, Brother."

Fai watched his rival depart the Hall of Symmachus and allowed his shoulders to sag, dropping the act he kept up whenever the Cog came by nowadays. It was an act that he had almost broken a moment ago, and one that, overall, even he didn't know how to totally release himself from.

He watched XJ-V's departing back and patted the head of one of the Hall's Tiger statues before he resumed his martial exercises for the day.

"To deny the Dao is to bring only despair," he said. "I know this more than most, Brother Cog."

###

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[IronLung]

The clouds of the Dao parted today to show XJ-V a spring running open and free.

Beneath the waters there was a city.

The skeletal frames of buildings climbed up to the inviting amber of a morning sky. Each steel giant watched its Brothers with thousands of glass eyes, peering at the tiny people walking around inside their bowels. A whispering wind blew through the forest of steel and glass, and XJ-V closed his eyes as he felt it wash over him, like the spring he'd just fallen through into this realm – into this world where the sun's golden rays swooned to touch the tips of each great skeletal tower.

Then came a storm.

The watery heavens above opened, and pockets of the spring's water fell upon the giants, drowning those that inhabited them one by one until XJ-V was forced to see them open their mouths and cry out as the waters of the Dao filled their lungs. They flailed like fish as the deluge increased, and the skies formed clouds that were beginning to break apart.

"Help…us…"

"Please…"

They called out – to him. To the metal man floating harmlessly as the waters gushed over their once prosperous realm. They called out with the voices of their departing spirits. They called out for a hero to take their hands.

XJ-V looked at them as the glassy eyes of their great giants smashed apart and sent their shards flying at his face. He tried blocking the onslaught, and yet felt the shards tear at his arms, his hands, and at his eyes, each piece drawing a thin layer of black blood from his body that bubbled in the light of the dying sun.

"Help…us…Help…us."

XJ-V felt their hands claw at him and refused to open his eyes. He cursed under his breath, feeling the entity – the engine – that lay within his metal breast urge him on – to fly up to the heavens and block the Dao as only he could. With his hands he could silence it forever. He could stop the tears of a dead world.

"No," he told the thing that begged him to use its strength. "No…"

Another pair of hands grabbed his face.

"NO!"

"XJ-V!"

He was back in reality. He was on his back, looking into the concerned eyes of Feng-Lung as the latter gripped his hands beside the Qi-pond of Ai-Lee's Grove.

Yes – yes, he remembered now. They had come here to meditate. To walk the Dao…

XJ-V thanked his friend and allowed Feng to help him up, clawing at his neck where a distinct sting of pain was radiating. As his sensors came back online, and the world of Ai-Lee's unreality spread once more across his vision, he saw words buzz into life before his eyes:

Anima Cores: 135

"Not as much…as last time," he said aloud. "Not quite Rank 4…yet."

Feng-Lung grabbed his shoulders and practically shook him like he was addressing a madman. "Not enough?!" he shouted. "I thought you shut down! You were flopping like a fish on a line, XJ-V! Not even the Huli could get through to you."

The Cog spared a glance towards Arha who cocked her head worryingly at his side. She panted as she lay her head on his steel palm, signaling her sisters who watched them from above.

"You see what Arha has to deal with?" she shouted up at them. "Arha is a big girl now with big responsibilities. Her metal-man needs her!"

"Fat load of good it seems you do him, dear sister," one of the mischievous foxes swinging on the branches of the willow above them replied. "If you asked me, this one is a lost cause."

"Oh, don't be so mean, Mimi," the other fox replied. "You know Arha has always had such fondness for broken things."

"Broken?" XJ-V said aloud, silencing little Arha before she could reply. "I…I suppose I am," he said, rising to watch the strange ripples playing across Ai-Lee's pond. "I cannot even spend five minutes in the Dao, for all the time it still takes me to reach its realm."

"You still draw its power," Feng-Lung told him as he laid a reassuring hand on his quivering shoulder. "Even though it frightens you."

"Frightens me? How can you be sure of this, Brother. What do you know of machine fears?"

Feng-Lung met his metal Brother's derision with a hearty laugh. "I can imagine they are the same things most men fear – whether they are made of metal or composed of flesh."

"And what would those things be?" XJ-V asked.

"Impotence," Feng replied with a cheeky wink. "Mocking. Death. Isolation. Prejudice. In a word," he added. "Failure."

The Cog looked at his Brother for a moment, noting how the youth met his eyes with trembling, without hesitation.

"Uh, XJ," Arha murmured. "You – you don't look so good right now."

"It is nothing," he told his Huli guardian. "…Nothing."

He returned his gaze to the pond, seeing the distinctive shadows of the other Disciples who were here today, basking in the warmth of the Grove, other strange animal spirits twirling around her necks or nibbling at the soles of their feet. Not many Disciples were coming by these days – and few XJ-V knew personally. Through the mists he could see them preoccupied more with their desire to win the coming tournament more than communing with the Dao – and many of them tended to wave away the spirits that came upon them at this time.

No doubt it was fear that brought them here more than anything else. Master Longhua had come to the commune only yesterday and rebuked the men for missing their Qi-building exercises and observing their Cultivation practices.

"Ai-Lee twists and turns in his eternal sleep to look upon you children!" he said, scolding them with such derision that everyone, including noble Mah-Jung, had bent their heads and knees as he passed them by. "Is a warrior made by his hands alone? No – his greatest weapon is his mind, and a strong mind must be in perfect harmony with one's body if one wishes to become a Cultivator of legend. You all seek the quick path to victory. You all see Ori'un and wish to bask in his shadow. But I warn you all, my Disciples, should you stray from the path of wisdom, you shall fall before you take a single step on the stairway to the heavens!"

So now, here they were, obeying their Master and coming to the most sacred place of all in Ramor-Tai. But most of them, XJ-V knew, were purely here to pay lip-service to the Master's demands. These days most just wanted to stay out of Longhua's way.

This, the Cog could understand – the Master had been jumpier than ever these past few weeks. In their private sessions XJ-V could sense the Master's ire every time the Cog took a wrong step, or became frustrated with his inability to enter the Dao for long.

"You are still a machine without patience!" Longhua told him, whacking him with the tip of his beard like a great hairy whip. "Just like a boy!"

XJ-V had been glad to have Feng-Lung beside him on these days, when it seemed like everyone else was expecting more of him…

He wished he could communicate just how right Feng was to the boy, but XJ-V found that he did not quite have the words. How does one say that they fear not what they are, but what they might be? For that, in itself, is failure.

Is it not?

The question was put to the side as he watched the ripples on the pond suddenly rise. Feng had noticed, too, for the Cog heard the sound of him sucking in the pure air of the grove as though he were about to see something miraculous.

"Oh, here we go," Arha's sisters above sighed. "Such showoffs these ones are…"

Across the pond, small fountains were now climbing like thick, turquoise totem poles to pierce the dense fog that lay thick across the Qi pond. Then, much to the dismay of the Cog, a pair of indigo eyes blinked into existence at the tips of the totems.

"By the Dao…" Feng-Lung whispered.

Both men watched as the thin water creatures then spouted six pairs of sinuous, lithe arms – totally transparent against the mist that clouded the air – and two legs that remained connected to the rippling waves below them.

The thin creatures bowed low, exhibiting the courtesy of a troupe of proud performers, and then began to dance.

"Oh, here we go," Arha moaned beside XJ-V. "Arha is not a jealous woman – but how can a fox compete with curves like theirs? It is not fair, is it?"

"I would not bother trying to reach these boys," Minhua shouted down to her sister. "Like all men, they are lost in the dance.

The Huli were not lying - both Cultivators watched the lithe, ghost-pale water-spirits spin and twirl on the surface of the Qi pond with dexterity and grace the likes of which neither had every seen. They watched them link their transparent tendrils together and throw eachother into the air, letting droplets fly and splash across the faces of the men who knelt in silent meditation – provoking them to watch, too. One by one, every Cultivator in the Grove became spellbound by the dancing spirits.

And yet, each man was not so much drawn by the sight of the acrobatic beings themselves, or the impossible movements of their limbless limbs, but by the strange sadness that lay within their hollow eyes.

"What are they?" XJ-V finally asked.

"Shuigui," Feng-Lung replied, clapping for a particularly well-timed somersault. "'Water-ghosts.'"

XJ-V's eyes flared as he recalled the term – he had come across a sketch of these liquid specters in one of Gira's books. And now he understood the sadness that could be read even upon their almost featureless faces.

"They are the souls of those who drowned," he said. "They appear in the body of water that killed them."

"In other words," Feng-Lung said. "They are failures."

XJ-V was struck by the youth's dark tone, but he saw no change in Feng-Lung's smile as his eyes darted back to him.

"They are those that tried to pass the trials of Ai-Lee," Feng explained. "But they could not overcome their fear. So, here they dance, appearing only when they see doubt, or sorrow, or another soul lacking in belief. They come to dance to show that, even in their failure, they are still a part of the Dao. They still have a part to play in our world."

"So you mean to lecture me now, too," XJ-V huffed as Arha tried (and failed) to imitate the dancing spirits. "I have heard enough about my doubt to last a thousand lifetimes. Both Fai-Deng and Mah-Jung tell me nothing but how I am destined to enter this tournament and rise to the top. But what if I don't want to, Feng-Lung? Did I not tell you in Master Longhua's courtyard that I have left the world behind?"

"None can leave the world behind forever," Feng-Lung told him with a stern, yet still smiling face. "You can try, but you will always be pulled back, the more you resist."

"Tell that to your own Master!" XJ-V railed. "You saw it with your own – well, Arha's – eyes: Master Longhua does not even want to give us the chance to leave. He only accepted the Planeswalker's tournament because he was compelled to."

"Indeed, Brother," Feng-Lung replied. "Because the world came to him, and he even he could not resist it. You have proven my point adequately."

"Enough," the Cog said, turning to go. "I do not want to hear this."

Once again, however, Feng's firm hand caught his metal wrist.

"You know why we all push you to win, Brother?" he asked. "Because we know you have the chance to change the world out there. Because each of us know that rejecting the Wastes will only lead to more destruction."

XJ-V grit his steel teeth, trying to stop himself from looking at the final movements of the Shuigui dance, and not paying attention to the reeds rustling behind them both.

"If you want to change the world, be my guest," he said. "It sounds to me as though it is you who does not believe in yourself, Feng-Lung! Why do you pin your hopes to me? Why not seek to win yourself?"

"Because I have been tested before, Brother, and I failed."

Both Cultivators looked at each other with very different eyes, then, as each one recognized that they had just given the other a piece of themselves on this day, before the spirits of the dead.

And it was at this moment that the man rustling the reeds behind them deigned to enter into their private sanctum.

"Is that what you think, Feng-Lung?" he said. "Even after all this time?"

XJ-V turned to see Ori'un emerge from the reeds of the Grove, while his Brother merely turned away, hiding his face as though from a great, dazzling fire.

"Planeswalker," he said. "I suppose I knew you would come here eventually."

###

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[IronLung]

The silence that stretched between the three men in the Grove seemed to go on for an eternity.

It was only XJ-V that finally spoke, addressing the mountainous form of the Planeswalker with a curt bow.

"Forgive us, Planeswalker Ori'un," he said. "We spoke words in seclusion, words meant only for each other."

He looked to Feng-Lung for support and found the boy to be focused not on the new arrival, but on the Shuigui as they traced the surface of the pond and finished their dance with a boastful flourish.

"Peace, XJ-V," Ori'un said, waving away his apology. "You have nothing to be sorry for. In truth, it is I who have disturbed the serenity of this place."

"That is certainly a theme," Feng-Lung muttered under his breath, and XJ-V was struck by the uncharacteristic hatred in his words.

Ori'un merely laughed with his booming, brassy laugh in response, jumping on top of a willows tree and standing upon its drooping branches with his tiptoes.

"They say that the world is forever changing," he said, more to the pond of departing spirits than to anyone else. "But Ai-Lee's Grove remains fixed in its state of tranquility. They say it is an image of Qing's forests as they once were. Did you know that, XJ-V?"

The Cog shook his head as the giant man leaped and came crashing down before them, battering a crater into the sandy plane before the pond and watching the earth simply repair itself in the aftermath of his strike.

"Now, here's a man we could get used to," the Huli sisters in the trees murmured. "Little Arha, why did you not choose this one to form an attachment with?"

Arha looked from the massive bulk of the Planeswalker to XJ-V and answered mmediately.

"Who wants a smelly human when you can have something new – something exciting! Arha chooses XJ-V because XJ-V is special."

The Huli came to rub herself on the Cog's calf and provoked laughter from everyone who could see her antics.

Everyone, that is, except Feng-Lung. He sat in silence, not meditating, but simply ignoring. It was as though the entire spirit of joy had been sapped from his soul as soon as Ori'un entered through the reeds.

"Har!" the giant roared. "I almost forgot about these wily Huli. I tell you, I met more than my fair share of you out there in the Wastes. Why, in verdant Xishanbana, there is a Huli spirit at the foot of every tree. Most of them are harmless, but some," he winked at little Arha hiding behind XJ-V's foot. "Some of them will make pursue you to the ends of the earth if they take a liking to you. You should count yourself lucky, Cog."

"Did you come here to regail us with your stories of the outside?" Feng-Lung asked. "Or is there something you wished of us, Planeswalker?"

Ori'un bowed his head, flashing a sad smile at the boy who would not look at him. Once again, XJ-V was forced to see a side of his Brother that he had never seen before – a side that betrayed genuine animosity towards another.

And it struck him, then and there, as Ori'un scratched the back of his head like a child.

The reason for your malaise these past weeks…your seclusion…it was because of him, wasn't it?

"Feng-Lung," the hulking Planeswalker said. "You can have my sympathies, but you cannot have my apology. You know this."

Feng-Lung said nothing, and his Cog companion simply blinked at the mystery that was unfolding before him.

"Arha smells juicy gossip!" his Huli whispered in his ear.

"It has been five years, Brother," Ori'un continued, kneeling before Feng and burying one closed fist in the sand. "If your heart is closed to forgiveness, it does you more a disservice than it does me."

Feng simply continued to stare ahead, unwilling to even look the Planeswalker in the eye.

"You have not come here for me, Ori'un," he said. "You gave up on me a long time ago."

"That is a lie and you know it, Feng," Ori'un replied. "I would not have come here if I had."

When Feng-Lung did not reply, the giant rose after heaving a heavy, and weary, sigh of resignation.

"XJ-V," he said. "It seems I must speak with you alone, since this one will not hear me."

The Cog nodded, knowing not to push an issue that must be personal between the two of these men. He knew enough of human relationships to understand when something had to be, as mortals so eloquently put it, 'let go.'

"We shall speak on the roof of the library," he said. "I'm sure dear old Gira would not mind. She always was my biggest fan."

XJ-V followed the Planeswalker from the Grove, bidding farewell to Feng-Lung who flashed him a reticent smile.

"Be careful," he warned his incredulous friend. "This one is not all that he seems."

…

The sunset over Ramor-Tai bathed the monastery in the peach-pure colors of dying day – throwing shadows across the communes, the still-practicing Disciples, and the statues of both the Eternal Dragon and Waiting Tiger that lines the monastery walls. Any bandits who dared approached would doubtless be scared off by the sights of these guardian statues themselves, brought to viscous life by the world's fading light.

XJ-V watched the sights from atop the great tiled roof of Gira's grand library, Planeswalker Ori'un sitting beside him and finishing off another bowl of Baijiu.

"No better sight in all of the Badlands than this," he said, wiping the clear alcohol from his bushy lips. "This place really hasn't changed at all in the ten years I've been gone."

He offered his almost empty bowl to the Cog who rejected it politely.

"It would do nothing for me," he said.

"Har! True enough, I suppose. Forgive me, XJ-V, but I wonder how it is to be a man without the impulses of flesh to guide you. No booze. No sex. No eye for artistry. Can a man really appreciate the beauty of the world without these things?"

"I too had such doubts," XJ-V replied. "I have only ever known a world that hates me for what I am. But that was before I came here and undertook Master Longhua's training. Now, I know there is a soul within me. Now I know what it is to look upon the sunset and feel the pangs of its beauty touch my heart."

"Har!" the Planeswalker roared in reply. "He's even got you talking like them! Here was me thinking that someone like you, coming here out of the storms of the Wastes, would be more than happy to get the power he needed here and head back out to vanquish his enemies. But there's no desire like that in you, is there? You're a Cultivator, through and through."

XJ-V hesitated at these words, knowing too that Ori'un saw his hesitation.

"Or, am I wrong?"

XJ-V looked out at the dying orange light dipping over the horizon.

"I know what waits out there," he said. "I know they bring only destruction. I know my steel Brothers suffer under their yolk."

"And you know you have the power to do something about it. So, why don't you want to?"

XJ-V's eyes flew to meet the narrowed slits of the Planeswalker, seeing his crescent moon tattoo shine as the pale light of that celestial body began to creep towards the world.

"I feel," he said. "I see what I will become. I have looked upon that image of myself before, and I fear it. I fear it more than I have feared anything, even the eyes of the High Eagle himself."

The Planeswalker eyed him warily, taking in his words and absorbing them with care, treading lightly should he reveal too much.

"Jin'ra," he said. "Yeah. I've met him too."

He showed his deep, black scar to XJ-V.

"It is a meeting few men survive. I reckon we might be the only two men in the entire Wasteland to defy him and die."

XJ-V felt his body shudder at the thought.

Jin'ra…

The name of his enemy. No, the name of the enemy of all mankind.

"And yet you fear this vision of yourself you see in the Dao more, don't you?" Ori'un continued. "But, and I'll tell you this for certain, the ghosts which we see in the Dao are sometimes just that – ghosts. Flickers in time. What those of the Waning Moon call 'Grey Potentials'. They are possibilities, XJ-V, not certainties."

"If that ghost of my self has even a chance of coming to fruition," the Cog replied with determination. "Then I will stop it before it ever draws breath."

Ori'un leaned back against the light of the moon, chuckling to himself in the odd way he did.

"Longhua told me you would be a surprise, but what he didn't say was just how human you would seem."

The Planeswalker seemed suddenly entranced by the moon, his eyes sinking into it like it represented, for him, home.

"The Prophet of the Waning Moon, Chu'Akra, often spoke of the great war between the free will of a soul and the will of destiny that guides us in the Dao. I am not saying I disrespect the words of a Prophet, but lately I often find myself thinking there is a third, more elusive force that affects every little step we take in our lives: chance.

"Or maybe," he added drily as he slurped the rest of his bowl clean. "That is just wishful thinking."

The Planeswalker stood and offered a pale hand to XJ-V – a hand that sang with power.

"Your Brother, Feng-Lung, despises me," he said. "He despises me because I rejected that which the Dao showed me, as you wish to now. And yet Longhua despises me because I abide by what the Dao now shows me with such clarity that I would have to be blind to simply turn away. So you see, XJ-V, no matter what path we walk – no matter what ghosts we see in the Dao – we are shaped by our choices. Us, and the world around us."

XJ-V looked at the Planeswalker's earnest face and then down to his waiting hand.

"Why are you telling me these things?" he asked.

"Because," the dark-cloaked mountain replied. "I think we are alike in more ways than one, my Cog Brother. And so I am offering you the chance to take the hand of an Anima Banisher and look through his eyes. I am giving you the chance to see for yourself why your Brother hates me, to look at a moment in time when I rejected my Gray-Potential and made another suffer because of it. Because of my own fear, and cowardice. I am giving you the chance to see the day when Feng-Lung's mother died."

The Cog stood up abruptly, shock running through his systems.

"I…I did not know she had perished," he said. "What does that have to do with you?"

Through cold, death-pale lips, the Planeswalker replied.

"Because," he said. "I'm the one who killed her."

###

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[torac]

Some of them will make pursue you to the ends of the earth

Click to shrink...

remove "make"

"It is a meeting few men survive. I reckon we might be the only two men in the entire Wasteland to defy him and die."

Click to shrink...

"die" → "live"

"Because," he said. "I'm the one who killed her."

Click to shrink...

Truly the juiciest of gossip…

 

[IronLung]

XJ-V stared into the pale face of Ori'un, struck by the light of the low-hanging moon that threw its shadow across him.

"I am the one who killed Feng-Lung's mother", he said.

XJ-V searched his memory banks, recalling how Feng had always spoken of his mother in past tense, avoiding when the Cog had probed him further. He could remember, plain as the pale light of the moon tonight, that the boy's features had often turned from fond nostalgia to an expression of pain when his life before Ramor-Tai was brought up.

"I did not think Master Longhua would train a murderer," the Cog said.

The Planewalker's dry smile did not drop. He kept his powerful hand outstretched to the Cog, offering him his gift of 'sight' – whatever that meant.

Was it similar, perhaps, to Arha's power?

"You think highly of the old man," Ori'un said. "Every Cultivator that walks these grounds could dispatch whole squads of Wasteland bandits – perhaps even more – without much thought."

"But we do not," XJ-V pointed out. "The Path of the Cultivator is one of balance – one of peace."

"And therein lies the problem," the Planeswalker replied.

He leaned close to the Cog and whispered his next words as the moon rose high above the monastery.

"'There can be no tranquility without destruction. There can be no peace without the death of the ignorant. Only from the ashes of a ruined world can a beauty grow anew.'"

XJ-V cocked his eyes at the Planeswalker, wondering at the quote.

"Think, XJ-V," Ori'un said. "Does you Cog mind know who said these words?"

XJ-V pondered the words, felt the ring of familiarity about them, and then shook his head.

"The Prophet Ai-Lee," Ori'un then told him. "The first Master of the Eternal Dragon."

XJ-V stood now, looking at the darkness overcoming the pale Planewalker's crescent moon tattoo. He knew each and every sermon and scripture attributed to the Prophet – his Creator had drilled them into his mind. He did not remember much of his old home – what a human might describe as his 'childhood' - but he knew that his Creator had drilled the sacred words of the Eternal Dragon into his memory banks even if he didn't understand them. He had done this, XJ-V was sure, to give the Cog an edge when he came before Master Longhua.

But the words that the Planeswalker had quoted to him were nowhere in his banks, search as he might.

"I can see the confusion even in your metal features," Ori'un said. "You wonder why such words have been kept from you, as have a great many things."

He dropped his hand and walked towards the edge of the library roof, letting the chill winds flutter the frayed edges of his overcoat.

"Every Disciple here is stuck in a routine that they know not how to break from," he said, staring at the dim lights flickering within the communes, and the Brothers bidding eachother good night, or patrolling the streets with the blazing crimson lanterns of the nights watchmen.

"They follow one path they believe is set for them – the path of the Cultivator belonging to only a single Sect. Dragon or Tiger here, Bending Reed in the West, Twintailed Snake in the East, Waning Moon of the North…all men wearing the label of Cultivator believe they have the right of it – that their Sect is the best 'fit' due to the predisposition of their Animus.

But have you never pondered the truth of this, XJ-V?" the Planeswalker continued, still staring out at the bundle of dwindling souls meandering around the courtyard below. "I suppose not – for all the Masters say the job is the Cultivator is never to dispute. They are to walk the Dao, to train, to grow in strength. But why? Why take the untold power of the infinite and simply hold it within you? It is like taking the power of fire and keeping it from those who shiver themselves to death outside the walls of your home."

He heaved another sigh that forced XJ-V to stand beside him and look down on the colored Gis of the Disciples as they moved around, being struck by how Ori'un really saw them: as aimless. And as blind.

"The truth of a Cultivator is this," he said. "We know only as much, or as little, as our Masters wish us to know. Then, in time, we become as they are – attached to the stones beneath their waiting feet, shackled to the Earth to guide other, fresh novices to do the same. Fonts for power that shall never be employed. Candles burning, burning, but providing no warmth for anyone."

"You are saying it would be better if we were all like you," XJ-V said. "Walkers of this earth. Wanderers who go from Sect to Sect, taking what they can and using it for their own desires."

"Is destroying evil a selfish desire, XJ-V?" Ori'un asked. "Is banishing the wicked to spare the lives of the many the will of a despot, or a tyrant?"

"It will keep you from ever finding your way to the final Rank of Soul Actualization," the Cog said, remembering that the end result of all Cultivation was to join oneself with the infinite cosmos of the Dao. To give freely ones knowledge to those who would come after, and to live forever in the peaceful realm that was once the heavens.

And so the Planeswalker's answer, delivered with absolute seriousness, was that much more difficult for the Cog to understand.

"I do not want immortality," he said. "My world is here. It is the place where I live and breathe. It is the space I share with all men and women of flesh, blood, and steel like you. In seeing it, I have come to love it. Even with all its faults. Even seeing the worst that waits for us out there, still…I love it, XJ-V. I really do."

The Planeswalker gave a stretch, as though trying to reach out to grasp at the moon itself, like a young dreamer seeking the heavens and yet knowing, in truth, that he could never truly get there.

"But I shall not force you to understand my words," he said. "I am not like Master Longhua. The old man may be a slave to his precious Dao, but he has made his peace with his lot in life. He will live here, and he will die here. The same need not be said for you."

XJ-V felt a chill run through his systems that had nothing at all to do with the winds sailing through the night sky.

"I make my offer to you," he said. "As an Anima Banisher, I have the ability to let you see into the depths of my own Ego – to allow you to peer into my past and gaze deep at sights I once saw and actions I once committed – so you can judge for yourself which path you would like to follow: The path of your Masters here, one of certainty, one where you might manage to taste of immortality after eons of meditation in the dying sun of the Wastes, or the path that awaits you at the end of the tournament that is to come in two weeks. My path."

He waited for the Cog to answer without turning once. When no answer was forthcoming, he decided to hedge his bets on a final gambit:

"I know you are afraid," he said gravely. "Of yourself, of what you believe you must become, and of what I wish to show you. I cannot promise what you will see will be a pretty sight. But it will show you a Cultivator committing an act of murder. This, you must see, before you can judge if you would do the same. Maybe your answer will give you the guidance you want right now. Then again, maybe it-"

Ori'un stopped as he felt a hand colder than any he had ever touched before fly to grab his arm – exactly at the place where a blade of the Order had cleaved him.

He looked down to see the Cog's hand practically shaking as it lay upon his skin.

"Show me," XJ-V said.

The Planeswalker smiled as casually as a youth might who is about to welcome his mate into a secret treehouse far from the prying eyes of adults.

"Hold on," he told XJ-V. "This may cause a slight stinging sensation…"

…

A cold winter tundra stretched before XJ-V. He looked around him, seeing Mount Ramor in the distance high above him, and feeling his body surge with such powerful reserves of Qi that for a moment his mind went completely blank.

He wiped his eyes and then felt his body move without his input, turning back to shout at a young boy – couldn't be more than fifteen years old – trudging behind him in the snow-capped mountain pass that led to the monastery.

"Don't tarry, Feng!" he heard himself say. "Or there won't be any good meat left for us!"

"That – that is not a funny joke, Ori'un!" the boy squeaked back, slipping and skidding across the thin sheet of ice that lined the base of the mountain.

XJ-V felt his soul lurch as he recognized the boy – his shaven head, mousy face, and freckled cheeks betraying him to be his old friend true enough.

And then he remembered where he was, and what he was doing here.

Comfy, XJ-V? he heard a voice inside his mind chuckle. How's my old body feel? I swear I've lost weight since.

He felt his hands move with the grace of a dancer and direct a flow of Qi towards Feng-Lung's slipping body, breaking apart the ice and sending small wave of water to catch the Disciple and bring him to a stop just before his feet.

"That's your one freebie, kid!" his voice – the voice of what he now knew to be Ori'un's past self – laughed.

"I do not need any help!" Feng-Lung replied brashly. "I even told Longhua that I could do this by myself!"

The boy walked off, trudging through the snow, looking like he was about ready to die of frostbite already.

What is this? XJ-V asked the future Ori'un within his mind. Where are we?

What's it look like? He responded. We're at the base of Mt Ramor, ready to administer Feng-Lung's combat trial so he can enter the 4th stage of Corporeal Tempering.

XJ-V's souls stiffened as the body he was attached to in the past began to move, keeping a watchful eye on young Feng as they made their way towards the snowcapped roofs of a village in the distance.

Combat trial…He recalled Mah-Jung's previous points about how each Disciple had to be taken outside the monastery to face some challenge to prove their worth – to prove that they could both control their earthly desires and act appropriately in the face of grave peril.

So, what is he hunting? XJ-V asked

He felt pity on the boy as he watched him trudge through the snow, and knew this pity was shared by the body of Ori'un he was now inhabiting as the Planeswalker of the future gave him his answer:

What most of the newbloods fight to test their mettle, he said gravely. Aoyin. The Flesh-Eaters.

###

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[The Stormbringer]

Ah, I'm behind, been busy. Chapter 25. Hopefully I can get caught up soon. Good to see you still posting updates!

 

[IronLung]

Ah, I'm behind, been busy. Chapter 25. Hopefully I can get caught up soon. Good to see you still posting updates!

Click to shrink...

All good. We in this for the long haul

 

[IronLung]

XJ-V could feel the biting cold of Ramor-Tai's base even through the thick skin of Ori'un.

It felt strange to wear the form of a human – a creature of flesh and blood unlike Arha – as he trudged through the snow. Once again, he was struck by the strength he could feel bursting within the Planeswalker's every muscle – Qi energy begging for release.

Don't get too used to it, the Ori'un of the present-day warned him. You might end up liking the feeling a little too much.

XJ-V instead shifted his focus to young Feng-Lung scrabbling in the snow, trundling a heavy backpack towards the village in the distance.

"What did I tell you?" Ori'un shouted to the boy. "Only pack the essentials!"

"I have packed all essentials!" Feng replied. "Food, compass, extra clothes, appropriate bedding, and –"

Ori'un picked the boy up and shook him with telekinetic power. XJ-V watched through his eyes as several balls of twine fell out of the boy's pack and bounced gently off the snow-capped plains.

"Essentials, eh?"

"It…it's for the cats!" The young Disciple shouted back at his tutor, picking up the spools and hiding them sheepishly away. "I'm sure they are cold this winter, and have no one to play with. I thought after our business is concluded, you might allow me some meagre leisure time."

"Har!" came Ori'un's earth-shattering laugh. "You will be lucky if you keep your head after this mission, nevermind having time for leisurely play with kittens!"

Feng ignored the taunting of the hulking brute and continued on his way, Ori'un smiling faintly to himself as he wrapped his shawl closer around his neck and trudged on.

I had elected to administer Feng's trial as a Third Level Corporeal Temperer, Ori'un of the present explained to XJ-V. It was a simple enough process – as is often the case in the winter season, we'd received reports of Aoyin activity down south, in the border villages. Taking a Disciple down to face the Flesh-Eaters is a test as old as Qing himself. Ordinarily, there wouldn't have been any problems.

So, what happened? XJ-V asked.

Ori'un sighed within his mind.

There were…complications.

The Cog saw now that they had approached the village they were heading towards – a dismal settlement so wracked by the ongoing blizzard that XJ-V could barely make out the tops of the thatched roofs or the materials lining the ramshackle assortment of huts that looked like they could give way at any moment. He could, however, make out the name of the village emblazoned on a small rectangular sign just on its perimeter: Narsis.

XJ-V's memory banks buzzed in recognition. This was the very first village one came to as they descended from Ramor-Tai. It stood at the very foot of the great mountains' steps, and was often used, in the present day, as a vital supply chain for the Cultivators of the monastery.

Right now, however, the place was a shadow of its future self.

The village was a simple collection of sandstone huts – perhaps thirty in total – that was surrounded by a stout wall manned by armored men with spears and longbows. These men halted Ori'un and his charge at the village gate before the Planeswalker simply fixed them with his steel gaze. They gate was opened to them moments later.

These people, Ori'un of the present explained. They aren't used to seeing Cultivators like us. The day when a Disciple or Master walks among them is the day when a God has come knocking at their doors to bring good fortune. Rarely is the call of a village Elder heeded, unless circumstances are most dire. Right now, you're looking at one such circumstance.

XJ-V could see what the Planeswalker meant. As he spoke, he saw the ghostly visages of the villagers hiding behind their windows or in the hallways of their open doors – most of them on their knees, clutching prayer-beads in their hands, begging that the two protective spirits that had come to save them would succeed in their mission.

"Ironic, isn't it, young Feng?" Ori'un of the past said aloud to his youthful charge as the boy looked around like a deer caught in a hunter's dazzling lights. "These fine folk look upon you as a hero already. And yet, you're really here for your own selfish reasons, aren't you?"

"Had I the chance, Planeswalker Ori'un, I would gladly remain here to safeguard these people from evil."

The hulking Planeswalker said nothing to this, but XJ-V heard the thought that boomed within his skull then. It was a thought that made even the giant's chest swell with pride, the gargantuan flow of Qi within him flow directly to his heart.

Yes, he thought. I bet you would, at that.

I bet he still would, despite it all, Ori'un of the present told the Cog within the dream-space of his past selves' mind. Don't you think so?

The Cog stared at the boy's shaken yet determined form, but said nothing.

XJ-V then watched as Ori'un and Feng-Lung approached a stout building framed with an assortment of charms and silver relics – items the villagers generally believed had the power to ward off evil.

"Remember," Ori'un told the stiffening form of the boy. "It's you who asks the questions. I'm here only to observe, and to administer the test. Your first order of business is to assess the threat level posed by the malevolent spirits and ascertain –"

"Their location," young Feng-Lung finished, giving the Planeswalker a cheeky side-eye. "Then I pay the Elder for his troubles and go on my way, offering no assurances on behalf of Ramor-Tai."

The Planeswalker stood on the lip of the doorway impressed. "You've been speaking to that little imp Mah-Jung, haven't you?"

"A Dragon never reveals the secrets of his flight path," Feng-Lung replied. "All that matters is that he arrives at his destination."

"And doesn't burn himself on the way," Ori'un said, patting the boy's bald head, freshly shaven to receive his dragon tattoos in the wake of his successful inauguration as a Third Rank Corporeal Temperer.

"Let's go."

As both men passed through the curtain-flap of the building's door, they entered into a room filled with more base charms and warding symbols – images of noble Qing lined the walls, smeared with the blood of freshly slain chickens. Above, garlic reefs dangled down and filled the room with a stench that young Feng had to try and waft away. Ori'un, however, was focused entirely on the form of the old man that sat at the far end of the room, surrounded by a ring of candles like a mummified corpse.

The Planeswalker nodded to Feng-Lung who sat cross-legged beside him, and Ori'un coughed politely to awaken the apparently slumbering creature that sat before them.

The village Elder, Ori'un explained to the Cog.

XJ-V watched Feng's face as the youth saw the old, withered form of the corpse-like figure raise its bony head and look into at the Cultivators with nothing more than a pair of soulless voids for eyes.

"They came in the night," the Elder said. "They were seen digging in the graveyards at the southern edge of the village. They had come for us…for…for us…"

Feng-Lung was visibly shaking, but the youth, to his credit, kept his composure.

"Where are they now?" the boy asked with as much confidence as he could muster, and XJ-V once again felt Ori'un's chest swell with no small degree of pride.

"They…they went West, young Lord," the aching Elder said. "They found prey on the road – a caravan bound for…for another village…"

Ori'un suddenly stiffened.

Aoyin don't just give up a feasting ground like a graveyard for nothing, he explained to the Cog within his head.

"What cargo was this supply train carrying and where was it bound?" Feng-Lung asked.

The old man's eyes seemed to catch the light of his candles for a moment, and XJ-V knew that, buried deep within the old bones of that raggedy-looking human, there was fear.

"The cargo was a heap of corpses," he said. "They…they were soldiers…soldiers being…taken back…to home."

"War casualties," Feng-Lung murmured. "A prize the Aoyin could not overlook."

The young boy then leaned forward, possessed, XJ-V could swear, by a sense of excitement.

And he felt the Ori'un of the present heave a deep, sad sigh.

"Good Elder," the boy said. "Do you know where this caravan was bound?"

The old man drew deep the biting chill of the outside world, and even in the dream-vision XJ-V could feel the long breath of winter pour from the depths of the corpse's black throat as he answered:

"Marsul," he said. "They go to…healer…in Marsul…"

Ori'un's shoulders stiffened, and young Feng's eyes went wide – blazing with sudden, uncontrolled fire. The boy had heard the word and was instantly possessed by a very new spirit. Or, perhaps, it was a spirit that had been buried within his chest that he had never known, or never wanted to know, existed.

Because his face went chalk white when he heard that name, and he could barely keep seated, or composed. He wanted to fly from the room right then and there.

Because Marsul – the name of the village that had come under threat from the Aoyin…

It was Feng-Lung's home, Ori'un finished.

###

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