Iron Lung writes
patreon
CC: Chapter 44
🕑 Added 2024-05-02 14:31:01 +0000 UTC'Strange Happenings'
The next few days went by with XJ-V looking more troubled than he usually did. His Kata spars were sluggish, and Fai-Deng repeatedly showed him no mercy in the Hall of Symmachus for every time his misstepped or sent an attack flying that went wide. Mah-Jung and some of the other Disciples of the Eternal Dragon had also noticed his world-weary attitude, but saw no reason to bother the metal man with their questions.
For rumors were abound in the walls of Ramor-Tai. Rumors that spoke of a secret meeting between the Cog and Ori’un, in which the Planeswalker had revealed unknown secrets to the machine-man.
“It’s not fair!” Disciple Carres in the Dragon commune canteen was saying as they chewed on their Congee porridge during one particularly long winter morning. “He’s still only a Rank 4 Temperer!”
“I’ve heard he’s got a secret trick up his sleeve,” another – Disciple Kor’tarosh - breathed, often lowering their voices to hushes whispers when they made such dubious claims. “He’s got a secret weapon hidden in his chest. That is why old Longhua wished to train him!”
“But he didn’t wish to train him, idiot! He made him wait for eight long months out there.”
“As a test – as a test of faith!” interjected Disciple Tarmen’am. “What, you think a Master of the Sects would simply keep rejecting a promising recruit out of spite or prejudice? Come, Brother, you know the Masters – we are fortunate enough to stand in the presence of two of them within this monastery. You know they are beyond human comprehension!”
“They are more human than most,” a bassy voice suddenly interjected. “Believe me.”
The three Disicples swallowed their porridge and looked up with awe at the swaying form of Ori’un standing before them, face flushed with crimson but still focused, his Waning Moon tattoo glinting staring down at them.
“Planeswalker Ori’un!” Disciple Kor’tarosh managed to say. “Please, please forgive us. We only meant-“
“Peace, boys,” the Planeswalker laughed. “The last thing I’m here to do is discipline you for doing what young men like you will always do.”
“All the same, it does not become a Cultivator of the Dragon to gossip like a washerwoman!”
“I’ve met plenty of washer-men in the wastes who are just as irritating,” Ori’un said with a wink.
He pulled up a pew beside the boys and poured himself a shot of something dark and viscous that he produced from his coat pocket.
“With only ten days to go before the Gauntlet of Aun’El,” he said as he took a liberal sip from his cup. “I would think you boys would be more focused on honing your skills.”
The three Disciples shared awkward glances with eachother.
“We…” Carres began. “That is…we do not believe we stand a chance against men such as Mah-Jung or Fai-Deng or…or XJ-V.”
“Har!” Ori’un practically spat – as he usually did whenever he laughed. “I smell the whiff of Rank 6 upon each of you boys! Surely you do not fear the skills of a Cultivator below your skill level?”
“He has a secret skill, Planeswalker!” the excitable Tarmen’am burst. “Have you seen it? With it, he subdued Brother Fai-Deng’s Qi as though the Tiger was nothing but a mere bag of flesh! He sapped the energy from his very spirit! You should have seen it, grand Ori’un. It was a sight to behold. Yes, it was indeed a-“
The Disciple suddenly stopped speaking, noting his companions stern faces and shaking heads that told him he’d said too much.
But the Planeswalker – he wore a very different expression upon his face. His eyes seemed to darken, and his bulky hand flew to his right arm, rubbing a spot there as though he felt a sudden tinge of pain.
“…I have not only seen it,” he said in all but a whisper. “I have felt it.”
The three Disciples grew alarmed. Perhaps they had said something that offended the heroic Planeswalker.
“Ori’un?”
“HAR!” the giant laughed again, throwing back the last of his black swill and licking his grizzled lips. “We all have our secret weapons, boys. Mine is my stomach – for, and I tell you this is the Dao-honest fact – it can handle the most powerful liquors in all the Wastes. And I must say,” he added with a surrepticious wink. “The Baijiu of Ramor-Tai leaves my spirit…wanting.”
The boys exchanged knowing glances with each other, slowly realizing the intent in the grand warrior’s words, and swelling with pride that he had just made them his confidantes.
“So tell me,” Ori’un said. “Where does a man have to go to get a good strong drink around these parts?”
...
XJ-V limped out of another training session with his Tiger-Brother with a few new scratches to his name. He’d have to get his repair protocol working overtime if he wanted to sleep softly tonight.
For once, Arha was not here to bother him. She’d decided to spend the day with her Sisters in Ai-Lee's Grove, no doubt regaling them with tales of her metal man and how his brave deeds owed everything to her sublime wisdom.
He smiled at the thought. That little bundle of fur and attitude brought him more delight than he would ever let her know.
When he got to his bunk in the Eternal Dragon Commune, he scanned the corridors outside his room for signs of encroaching life.
For he had been working on a project recently.
It was a project that was of utmost importance and a project that, unbeknownst to Feng-Lung and the other Disciples, was the source of his general appearance of malaise.
But all the suffering it caused him – all the toils and troublesome pains – it was all worth it. For it was a project that would do something no other Cultivator within Ramor-Tai’s walls would ever be able to do: banish the demons from a Cultivator’s mind.
Since his vision of Feng-Lung’s past, seen through the eyes of Ori’un, he had deliberately avoided the boy. They had trained together – going through the motions of new techniques – but they had not sat and talked as they usually would during this time. Winter brought coldness for Feng-Lung that XJ-V now understood. But in that understanding there was also a solution, and he had found it. He knew how to bring light back to his friend even as darkness seemed to surround him.
He worked diligently, too, because he knew that very soon a destiny awaited him that he could not ignore. But all the same, taking his mind off the shackles of his Grey Potential once in a while was necessary. Working on something like this was exactly what he needed right now.
And so he worked in secret, long into the night after his training sessions. Those Disciples on guard duty who walked near his doorway during the early hours of morning would often hear unnatural sounds emanating from his chamber – sounds of vicious razors whirring, saws cutting, and metal scraping. They were sounds that chilled even experienced Cultivators of the Eternal Dragon Commune to their bones.
But such men did nothing more than pass the Cog by without a second thought. By this point, they had learned that they could never truly understand him. Only Feng-Lung and Fai-Deng seemed to see something in the machine that they could relate to. For the others, there was a sense of respect mixed with fear – fear of the unknown. The oldest fear known to mankind.
…
Feng-Lung sat in Ai-Lee's Grove on a particularly cloudy winter’s day, sequestering himself in the artificial warmth of the pond and the willows, swaying in the winds of the past.
The fleeting peace he felt, however, was about to be interrupted
The Huli that stalked XJ-V everywhere was lazily floating on her back in the ancient Qi pool of the Dragon Prophet when he came here to meditate. He had bowed to her respectfully, and she had merely pouted at him. Blushing, he had sat down to begin his meditations for the day, but couldn’t help but feel the eyes of the Huli on him whenever he closed his own.
After about an hour of failed attempts to Walk the Dao, he’d finally had enough.
“What is it that troubles you, Huli?” he asked the lazing spirit.
The creature didn’t even acknowledge him at first. She was like a schoolgirl toying with an object of her affection.
“Arha has no human cares, little boy. We spirits are the only truly free creatures in this ugly world.”
Feng-Lung looked away, trying to resume his meditations.
“…I’m not that young,” he murmured.
“Arha thinks you act like it! You don’t even want to go and make up with your friend!”
Feng’s eyes opened now.
“What?”
“You heard Arha!” the little Huli screeched, her abrupt splashing causing ripples to gyrate on the water’s surface. “You are angry with him for no reason other than your own bad thoughts making you feel angry. You act like a little girl, wanting him to just understand you and how you feel. But he is not a reader of minds!”
“What in the name of the Dao are you talking about, spirit?” Feng-Lung shouted, rising and clenching his fists inadvertently.
“Arha thinks you are not the real Feng-Lung,” the Huli said, sticking out her tongue mockingly. “The Feng Lung XJ-V knows would not be sulking around moping because a man he does not like is here.”
“I! You!” Feng began teeth gritting in consternation. “You are speaking about things you do not understand. I will not hear this from you.”
“Little boy Feng-Lung, little boy Feng,” Arha jeered. “Running away from his problems just like a little boy will!”
“Enough!” Feng roared, finally relenting, and turning away from the grove. “I will not hear any more from you. If your wish only is to insult me, then I will find another place to meditate.”
When he made to storm away through the willows, however, the little fox stopped before him, shaking off her soaking skin and drenching his feet in water in the process.
“You must stop running!” the creature yelled up at him. “You mortal boys may not know how to talk to each other. So Arha will! Arha knows how XJ-V hurts because his friend Feng-Lung hurts. He knows why you hurt, and he works so, so hard – too hard – to try to fix a cure for you. He is wearing himself out, and it is all your fa-“
The Huli stopped abruptly as she saw the look that overcame Feng-Lung’s face and realized, far too late, that she had let slip too much.
“Er,” she stammered. “Ignore Arha. Arha is just silly spirit. Arha just says whatever pops into her head, Arha – wait!”
Feng had begun running off down the path back to the exit portal with a tenacity he had not exhibited in some time. And he was about to give his friend the scolding of a lifetime.
If you’ve been neglecting your training because of me, XJ-V…I swear I’ll give you a thrashing in this tournament just to remind you of what’s really important! There’s just too much at stake for you to be moping around because of me. When will you understand that I’m nothing? I’m a failure. And you…you are…
He barreled through the portal and sprinted for the commune.
