EY 3138:

  18 years later…

  It is unfortunate, Flowing Silk Ribbon thought, as he felt what had theoretically been a solid patch of mountain road give way under his foot, that I live in Interesting Times.

  Flowing Silk Ribbon kicked off the collapsing road as the sinkhole became a landslide. He needed to use all his skill in the Golden Phoenix to jump between different sliding bits of rock, spotting the next safe landing spot before kicking off again.

  In the meantime the bit of his mind that was not desperately occupied with staying alive was furiously trying to work out how this was even possible.

  True, this was not one of the Great Roads, but it led directly to it, enough that the geomancy should have preserved it even if regular maintenance fell behind. Given this road was a vital connection to this part of the northern mountains that shouldn't have fallen behind either!

  With a colossal crash the landslide hit the bottom of the valley, Flowing Silk managing to escape the deadly cloud of rock and dust just in time. He stumbled slightly when he landed, but thankfully he was in the shallows of the river where the bend had created a beach on the far side from where he'd started.

  He looked up and his heart sank. For all the heart stopping, frantic leaping struggle only lasted 30 seconds the road was far higher above him than he'd thought. The mountain dropped away in a slope so steep it was practically a cliff. No matter how good he was at jumping, that would need him to climb, and he wasn't very good at the Emerald Dragon.

  Thankfully he counted four bright figures up there, which meant it was only him from his party who had fallen, and he'd been at the back of the group. Flowing Silk looked at the steep slope. In a way it was a good thing it had been him. It would need a priest or someone else who had dedicated their life to the correct immortal to survive what he'd just done.

  Flowing Silk brushed the dust off his bone white robes and waved his arm, trusting the wide priest sleeve to act as a flag and show his travelling companions that he was alright. He looked around for where he could go from here and realised that the tumble of rocks combined with the river was cutting off his path forward. "I'm fine!" he called, hoping they would hear, "But there's no way back up! We'll have to part ways here."

  He indicated himself, then back along the river, planning on backtracking to the previous town. He then pointed to the group and indicated they should go forward. They had their own quests to fulfil, he couldn't delay them.

  The group on the road above talked for a moment, then lined up along the edge to give him a deep bow of farewell. Flowing Sik returned it and held the pose so that they could recognise the gesture as the heartfelt farewell it was.

  His (former) travelling companions lifted from their bow and continued onward as Flowing Silk sighed. Of course it was expected that a travelling Xia's life would contain more excitement than a normal citizen's, but he couldn't help but feel most Xia didn't get separated from their travelling companions quite this often.

  He could privately admit to himself that it would be nice not to have to deal with the Drunken Hedonist though. There had rarely been a day without an argument between them - expected of Rival Schools whose values clashed so much - but the man had been reliable in a fight (if not in the mornings) and he'd taken the sniping criticisms with good humour.

  Movement caught his eye from the trees to his right and he turned in time to catch a glimpse of a silvery figure vanishing into the undergrowth. A ghost with enough presence to be visible in the Middle Kingdom? That was most unusual, even if they were still sticking to the shade of the trees.

  Flowing Silk looked up at the landslide and noted how neatly it collapsed from under his feet despite the others walking over the same spot. The ghost was almost certainly known to the other spirits of this valley then, and they in turn had deliberately guided him down here to help.

  Wonderful. "Wise spirits, I thank you for ensuring I did not get crushed by the landslide, but you could have simply asked for my aid." He sighed as he bowed respectfully to the landslide, just in case.

  It was still a bad omen though. Even with intervention from gods and spirits, the geomancy of the roads shouldn't have been weak enough that it was possible to collapse it beneath his feet.

  Flowing Silk shook his head and followed the ghost. When he parted the bushes he was unsurprised to find a thin set of steps barely a person wide and polished smooth with use. Not a main route certainly, maybe where people had gone to wash clothes or get water?

  Flowing Silk looked at the overgrown path snaking through the forest. Wherever he was headed it had been long abandoned, and it wouldn't be at all surprising for a place like that to need an exorcist or a funerary priest to clear out the tangled chi.

  Luckily he was both.

  He still had to make his way up the path though, and the branches caught on his tall priest's hat and bone white robes so often that Flowing Silk was forced to pause more than once to resettle them properly, checking that the embroidered golden flames around the hems hadn't had too many threads pulled free.

  The ghost in front of him had no trouble with the vegetation, but the fact that they waited for Flowing Silk to catch up confirmed they were asking for the priest to follow them as the trail climbed the side of the valley.

  Suddenly his guide disappeared, but Flowing Silk could hear the crackling of a fire from up ahead. When he approached he could see a campfire in a small clearing and next to the fire he could just make out a man dressed in furs. More importantly the man had built the fire on the site of an abandoned shrine, whose doors into the mountain remained locked shut despite the fresh gouges visible even from here.

  They didn't look Imperial, but the ghost had led him here, was this a person Flowing Silk was supposed to aid? Flowing Silk carefully made himself a little more presentable after the run through the forest.

  He stepped quietly out of the forest, making sure that he was visible. The man in furs looked up, and seeing Flowing Silk’s clothes, drew a wickedly curved sword, levelling it at him in challenge.

  Not friendly then. At least a challenge can be translated in every language. Flowing Silk bowed politely, taking the Pure Flame Stance and drawing one of his metal flame fans.

  The man shouted something at him in a foreign tongue and Flowing Silk gave him an apologetic shake of the head, “My apologies, I'm afraid I do not understand you.”

  The man said something else, apparently amused, and started moving towards him with a wide, brutally powerful swing. Flowing Silk leapt out the way towards the fire, landing neatly out of reach of the stranger, who in hindsight was probably a Hun, no matter how strange it seemed for there to be one this far behind the Wall.

  Neither of them had expected the fire to roar up higher as Flowing Silk approached, turning a ghostly blue. A blink later the priest smiled, putting the strange blue fire between him and the attacker then reaching out to the heat, welcoming the flame and using its strength to bolster his courage.

  “Please excuse me, I would like to borrow you for a moment.” Flowing Silk said to the fire, pulling his hand away from it. Whip-like tendrils of the blue flame trailed behind his fingers and became a full scarf of living flame. With that Flowing Silk leapt through the fire to surprise the Hun, becoming the centre of a burning spiral of flame.

  The Hun swore and batted the flames aside with his blade, rolling underneath Flowing Silk to come up behind him. He lifted his sword with a shout and reversed the blade, striking downward with the hilt toward Flowing Silk's head.

  The priest snapped the reinforced fan open above his head. The blow still hit, and still hurt, but it was at least softened a little by the metal tines in the way. The Hun pushed Flowing Silk away from him, disengaging his blade then returning to a normal grip to go for a fatal blow.

  This time Flowing Silk was ready for him, the sturdy metal fan folded to give it the force to knock the sword aside and whirl in close with the hand still holding the flame.

  There was a sizzle as the flame made contact and the Hun screamed, staggering back away from his attacker. Flowing Silk followed up the attack with his other hand, aiming to slam the still folded fan into his belly.

  The move had been too obvious, the Hun easily stepped to the side and brought his sword round in a wide arc to slam into Flowing Silk. The hand with the flame flashed out to catch it and Flowing Silk winced as his palm started to bleed, but his goal became obvious as the flame whipped around and held it there, leaving the young priest to kick, punch and slash freely.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  With a rough yank the blade was pulled downwards as the priest snapped his leg upwards with a final kick to the underside of the man's jaw, grey eyes firm at the crunch of heel against bone. The Hun’s hand loosened and he finally dropped the blade, silently toppling backward into the fire.

  The blue flames surged upward triumphantly to claim him and Flowing Silk watched for a moment, getting his breath back while checking that the Hun wouldn’t resume the fight while his back was turned. After a moment Flowing Silk set the blade on the Hun's chest and bowed, "May your spirit travel safely to your gods. You fought an honourable duel."

  With that done the funerary priest returned the flame that he had borrowed with a bow. “Thank you for your assistance.”

  The body burned away quickly, but even this high heat felt friendly to Flowing Silk. He witnessed the final part of the impromptu funeral in silence as was his duty.

  When the fire returned to normal the ghost he had followed was waiting on the other side of the fire. From the hat and robes he wore the old man had been a priest, but since they were undecorated and without colour he couldn’t tell which deity they had followed at a glance. Even if the lack of colour hadn't given away that they were a ghost the robes folded left over right would tell anyone who looked.

  Flowing Silk sheathed his fans and bowed again, “Is this your shrine?”

  The spirit nodded mutely and gestured to his mouth. It was covered by a strip of paper with characters for 'Alone' and 'Forgotten' on it.

  Flowing Silk’s eyes went to it, then to the shrine, “I am afraid I cannot repair the slashes to the doors, but I can help you to speak, if you would let me? I was thinking of consecrating your shrine so that you would no longer be forgotten.”

  The spirit’s eyes widened, then he nodded emphatically, indicating a thicket of bushes to one side. Inside there was a stone box, unbroken yet by wind or weather, inside which there were a few cones of incense and the character for Summer in brass - the symbol of the Ruby Dragon.

  Well that explained who this shrine belonged to, along with why the path to the water was so damn long. Exerting yourself indeed. Flowing Silk Ribbon smiled gently and lifted the items out of the box with care, making sure to wrap one sleeve round his injured palm to prevent any blood getting on them.

  It only took a small pinch of borrowed flame from the fire to light the incense, one cone on either side of the doors. Once they were lit he lifted the brass flame to let the fire shine against it before gently setting it into the slot on the doors. “I call upon the power of the Jade Emperor, of Xià Lóng the Ruby Dragon of Summer and of the Gods that form the Heavenly Bureaucracy, to consecrate this shrine in their name and to bring peace to the spirit that guards this place so faithfully.” He bowed deeply, “May the blessings of the Lord of Summer be upon us.”

  As he finished the first ray of sunlight struck it, reflecting off to strike the ghost. The strip of paper across his mouth burnt away in the light and he smiled, his voice like whispering embers, “Thank you for your help, Master.”

  Flowing Silk Ribbon bowed in return, “It is no problem, your shrine is beautiful. Seeing it scarred so... It is not something any good citizen could let go.”

  “A pity that I could do nothing to stop the barbarian - other than to come and find somebody who could.”

  The young priest smiled, “It was enough.”

  The ghost smiled in reply but his voice was sad, “I am - was - Grandmaster Fa Liang of the Pure Flame, and this shrine used to be one of the stops on the pilgrimage to Xià Lóng, but the years have not been kind, and it seems the world has forgotten us.” He looked to Flowing Silk, “Yet you have proven you still carry the fire I knew in life, though the form was unusual. Who was your Sifu?”

  On hearing his rank Flowing Silk Ribbon immediately bowed deeply, “Master Yinghao Keishin, Grandmaster.”

  The spirit turned and walked through the doors, a moment later they swung open with a click and a rumble. “Hm. A most unusual member of the Yinghao, then. They're usually fairly staunchly Ruby Dragon traditionalists due to all the smithing. Come in.”

  On opening the doors Flowing Silk jumped at the sight of an enormous dragon ready to lunge at him. A split second later he realised that it was actually a giant statue dominating the grand hall of the shrine.

  It really was impressive, Flowing Silk thought to himself as he tried to calm his pulse. Xià Lóng taught their followers of how to exert themselves on the world through physical exertion, forging and - unfortunately for anxious priests - intimidation.

  The ghost laughed, "It has been so long since I have seen someone startle at that. It is good to see that it still works, even as neglected as this place is."

  "It is magnificent." Flowing Silk replied, thoroughly humbled by the sheer majesty of the place despite the fact that the perishable trappings had long since crumbled to dust.

  "I am surprised a Xia would spook so easily though." The ghost continued as they walked through the temple, "What is your quest, Wise One?"

  Ah, standard small talk, he could do this, "I seek to find the missing Imperial Princess Joyful Summer Breeze."

  "A noble endeavour. Why?"

  "To prove my worth. A temple orphan such as myself has little to recommend them, especially when they're not yet 20." Flowing Silk replied, hoping that the half truth would be enough to satisfy them.

  Given the bark of laughter from the ghost he wasn't fooling anyone, "Trying to impress someone then? Or is it their family? More fool them if they don't realise how much skill it takes to become a full fledged funerary priest that young, especially with being a Master on top of that. I approve of your ambition though, you've aimed high."

  "Thank you, Grandmaster." Flowing Silk hid his wince and prayed that the old ghost would drop the topic as the pair walked past the chambers where priests would sleep and down into the tunnels under the temple.

  Thankfully it appeared that someone had heard his wish. "Still, if the Imperial Heir is missing then that explains why the road crumbled so easily, and how there are Barbarian scouts so far behind the Wall. Is the Empire's strength waning so much that the geomancy supporting the roads is starting to fail?"

  Flowing Silk breathed out, more confident now they had returned to a less personal topic, "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but yes. Between the cultists of the Black Magistrate and the strain on our farmers to support the war effort against the Huns the outer reaches of the Empire are faring badly."

  The spirit guided him downwards through the mountain, "And the nobles do nothing?"

  "I didn't hear a word of it while being raised at the Temple of the Golden Phoenix in the Imperial City," Flowing Silk explained. "I found out only once I started travelling."

  "Ah, I suppose that's what you get when- Ah, we're here."

  They reached a door that was still intact, a strange thing to see in the rough hewn tunnels. Once more the door swung open at the spirit’s touch and revealed a skeleton lying on a raised dais, hands clasping two circles of steel.

  Flowing Silk followed him in quietly, "You were saying, Grandmaster?"

  The ghost shook his head, “Oh, nothing important. Take the wheels - they should be with someone worthy of wielding them.”

  Something in the ghost's attitude told Flowing Silk that he was deliberately avoiding the question in the same way as someone who had accidentally said too much in an interrogation.

  Curiosity and instinctive wariness warred with propriety and the respect a Grandmaster was owed. With a release of breath Flowing Silk Ribbon let it go and bowed his head, then inspected the wheels. They were incredibly ornate, with carved patterns of wind and 'flames' created from tiny shards of jade. Flowing Silk couldn’t even calculate how much the jade was worth, let alone the craftsmanship or the time that must have gone into producing them.

  “You honour me, Grandmaster.” Flowing Silk managed to say hesitantly. He should say - do - something, refuse or accept, but while part of him insisted that he was not worthy of such a gift, the other formed through years of training insisted that he should do as the Grandmaster said.

  “No - you have done an old man a great service.” the ghost said firmly, “I don't think I could have rested happily, but knowing that my School is producing warriors like you…”

  Flowing Silk lowered his head in embarrassment, “I just did what was right.”

  “As the Ruby Dragon says:- if you are not worthy, then become worthy. It is through striving we achieve worth.” he fixed Flowing Silk with a look that reminded Flowing Silk of his own tutors, “Continue to do what is right, and it will lead you to greatness.”

  The young priest hesitated, then nodded. The ghost looked at him calculatingly, “It will not be an easy path.”

  Flowing Silk smiled, “I have been travelling the Empire for two years on my quest. From what I have seen already? It was never going to be easy.”

  The ghost grinned in approval, “Then you'd better get going, hadn't you?”

  Now Flowing Silk smiled properly, “Yes Grandmaster, thank you. I will look after them well and hand them on when it is my turn.”

  “Oh, and don't get them wet. They really don't like that.”

  The young priest carefully stepped forward to pick up the wheels and nodded in acknowledgement, tucking them inside his robes, “Do they have names?”

  The ghost climbed the dais and laid back, overlapping the skeleton with a tired smile, “Oh, of course they do. Maybe they'll even tell you, one day.” His chuckle faded with his ghost until Flowing Silk was left alone with his skeleton. He carefully wrote the Grandmaster’s full name and title on a slip of paper and placed it next to the skeleton before bowing deeply.

  “Goodbye, Grandmaster Fa Liang.”

  Flowing Silk made sure to hold back the unexpected tears as he turned and made his way out of the shrine. He gave a final bow to the statue of the Ruby Dragon before making sure that the doors were closed properly behind him.

  Once the brass symbol and two of his own incense cones were hidden safely in the box he took out the wheels to look at them. They were beautiful, even someone with as little knowledge of forging as him could see they were spectacular, but they were definitely active weapons. The handles soft from use fit perfectly into his hands, yet for all they'd been abandoned and unused for so long they seemed to be in perfect condition.

  Suddenly the sunlight caught the jade and flared, leaving sunspots on his vision. By the time the brightness faded the flame-blades of the wheels were literally aflame with burning energy. Flowing Silk stared in surprise, then glanced around to see if anyone was watching before going into a taolu to get used to how they handled.

  On finishing the taolu a feeling of grudging acceptance came from the wheels, Flowing Silk moving back to a normal standing position and staring at them in his hands, speechless.

  After a moment he managed to find his voice, awed, “Oh my goodness. You are the most beautiful weapons I have ever seen, and I can feel you, how…” he trailed off and regained some control, closing his eyes and calming his breathing. A moment later grey eyes opened again, looking at the Wheels consideringly, “I shall have to find a more suitable way to carry you.”

  A few minutes later he had improvised a simple sling to hold them, shifting them so they could sit under his pack and hoping that they were aware enough to go back to their Jade forms rather than burning. He needn’t have worried, as soon as he let go of the handles the flames died out. Flowing Silk hefted pack and blades onto his back with a smile, turning his head slightly to address the Wheels.

  “Let's go, we have a long journey if we are going to catch up with Joyful Summer Breeze.”