Fatherly Asura

Chapter One Hundred and Twenty Seven - [Summer] Sound

He saw the skies crack as porcelain, now engulfed in golden, spreading lines. The sight cut through dawn’s rise and the deep orange of both cloud and the vast sky beyond. Fragments loosed thereafter, for each crack birthed another, and another in sequence until Fu mused that it was no longer as a saucer might be. But a shell, splintered and ground from such breakage.

Particles of gold then fell like rain.

Udvah allowed them to filter through his extended palm, and was stilled by the sight of these very Heavens crumbling about them.

In similar awe, Anfang had moved to the Warship’s tallest point. Her [Spirit Spider] was adrift among them, ballooning to move as they did. Insight imminent, no doubt.

Thus Fu acted where they did not, drawing forth the [True Orchid Path] fragment. And on it- Pinxiu’s [Spirit Ant] swarm arrived, and compounded so a pillar of their mass erupted before him, holding the very same treasure.

“...fascinating,” rumbled a half-begun conversation as she swept to a knee in greeting. “Senior, the phoenix’s realm has collapsed. See here,” she said.

Hushi was mirthful, but held an arm to silence her. His thoughts well aligned with Fu.

“Peace, disciple,” he returned. “Do not deprive yourself of the forest by focusing upon but a single tree.”

The scholarly woman blinked, shook, and finally subdued her incessant energy.

[Summer] waxed then.

A pulse known to all, and yet to those far below, not.

As was natural, [Spring] gave its final bow for [Summer] to arrive. The land trembled in its wake, and the change seemed more profound- more violent than any these Wayward Winds had known.

First in heat, as the sun’s blaze grew to blind all that gazed upon it, and then in winds, in tides and leaves. In a cacophony that stirred ten thousand birds from ten thousand trees and myriad more souls in the city below, it came to pass.

[Imperial Realm 340] changed, and no fragment of map was needed for any to glean it.

[Ink] sprouted before all.

[Shores of Heavy Whisper]

[Summer]

[Core Formation] [Beast Realm] [Sound Abundance] [Water Abundance]

Anfang had sunk into [Epiphany].

The clack of Pinxiu’s swarm was silenced through reverence.

More than this, the Warships’ serpents had risen from shaded places to spectate this unfound, newborn sensation. This first [Summer] of millenia. Indeed the vessel seemed coated by scaled lengths as they basked in fresh warmth.

To look at the [True Orchid Path] fragment confirmed it. A solitary dot surrounded by blackened space, but untethered to those realms that still showed to connect outwards.

Could he show relief here? A sigh of weight lifted? Joy that all who might hunt them or harry their efforts, for now, shared the same [Mystic Realm]?

Shuidi shared an image of eggs and baskets.

Fu thanked her, and spoke firmly. “.” Save for Anfang, he received their undivided attention. “In a plan of growing parts, our first is concluded. The Wayward Winds have found where our strength might grow, a realm for tempering foundations. But a fool guesses. What security can be found is that which we enforce ourselves.”

Three blank scrolls emerged from Pinxiu’s swarm, and three fine, horse-hair brushes flew suspended in her [Force Qi] to write upon them.

“Our presence must be established below, and these Imperials must be blind to it. I would have your focus turn to intelligence gathering. We must know of threats. Imperial Repositories. Clans. Notable cultivators,” he said. “We must know of these now.”

Attention turned to the ranging city as he did.

“Senior, are the initiates to aid in this? The Imperial settlement below is vast,” asked Pinxiu.

Udvah spoke in turn. “Amituofo. A thought, yes, but not one of the Clouded Courts. The [Clouded Ghost Arts] are one trial. The inauguration is second. Sparrows fly further under a phoenix’s wings, but outwith…”

“As you say, brother,” agreed Fu. “To do a thing poorly is to not do it at all. Once our unseen hold is taken, your seniors will correct this. The initiates will remain aboard, disciple.”

A fresh scroll was drawn at Pinxiu’s nod. “Such clarity is a boon, senior. Sure to aid in their progression. Yet, matters of the external [True Orchid Path] stir my thoughts. A small thing, if I might be allowed the trouble to speak.”

All fishermen knew not to sail close to strong currents. Thus Fu raised his finger. “One thing, if it is of note. Other concerns I grant you leave to address by report.”

“The exterior [Paifang] is sure to fall under scrutiny. With the observed swiftness of Imperial reinforcements- the capabilities of their Warships, and the available forces beyond Yellow as was seen before the great phoenix reduced all to ash - it is my belief that Senior Udvah’s [Shaving of the First Gate] must set an alternative exit,” she said, and Qi then tapped the brush-end to her chin. “A similar state of scrutiny will fall upon the shattered [Paifang]. Sense would dictate that even shattered, they will fall under close watch.”

The edge of Fu’s nail failed to break skin as he dug it deeper. Some unwanted testament to his [Resilience]. “A blindness in need of correcting,” he said.

Wood rapped upon wood, signalling Udvah’s departure. “This lacking disciple will return before the rice is cooked, if his senior so wills it.”

Shuidi bowed, heedless of the Vajra’s humor.

The notion to accompany him rose, and subsequently fled at his companion’s departure. Perhaps in pursuit of kindness, for he held his own duties.

After a moment of thought, he spoke. “Pinxui, I leave these matters in your care.”

“The lesser Warship is readied, should senior wish to depart immediately.”

Fu shook, withdrawing a yellow douli from his ring. “Anfang will need it come dusk and such a sight would attract many eyes while the sun yet rises. No, merely see to these preparations that I might add my findings upon return.”

“It will be done, senior.”

A gale stole any further words as Fu leapt from the Warship, conjuring his [Dao of Wayward Breezes].

????

Nameless until voices changed such a fact, Fu stole through this unknown city. Yellow-clad and as others might- at a walk.

Alone.

Had this been the Four Corners Prefecture a thousand bodies would have lined the avenues, joining the thousand more that had laboured or yet remained from the previous night’s activities. Indeed, he expected at least the menial Reds to be present.

Shuidi’s expansion of [Senses] delivered more of this same

Was it fear, perhaps, at [Summer’s[ return? Would cultivators within these Castes even know of it?

He dismissed the notion, for Pinxiu’s reports on the lower Castes spoke otherwise.

Three leaps with his [Dao] revealed three queer districts.

The city ascended in tiers, surrounding the inner, higher coloured locales with those that Imperial Law determined to be below. So it was that he leapt from a tranquil dockside, for a calm sea touched upon the outer city, and on, to another that overlooked it. Again, he was brought to the peak, and this gave rise to further interest.

Chiefly, that great stone suspended these tiers.

Old sensations followed his step, for each held some facet of moving atop boat. As if water rushed below and this avenue’s integrity was not to be trusted.

To avoid the scrutiny of those with better [Senses], Fu settled amongst the district of Orange, and in time saw their appearance.

Some hours beyond arrival.

The way they crept from fabric-covered doorframes evoked a sense of the Wayward Winds’ initiates- of unpracticed attempts to remain silent. Measured steps that yet had their fabrics rub or had heavy feet placed where [Spirit Beasts] were concerned.

Hushi left him here, curious enough to steal along this avenue’s rooftops.

Fu set into casual pace, dipping the brim of his douli for all the good it might do. So said, for the presence of a Yellow was noted and responded to in a clearing tide of the lower Caste.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

But in place of harassing these Oranges, he held his slow gait, and did so until the dense flock had spread across an open plaza. A Yellow at its head, dour and expectant as she prepared for some manner of address.

The [Spirit Crab] upon him impressed a sudden caution.

“A student of keen eyes. Admirable.”

Only Shuidi’s impression warned of the [Array] below, inset in marble slabs. The Old One’s words pulled similar curiosity.

Her pincers clasped in affirmative reply.

Fu suppressed a smile as the presiding Yellow, some several hundred heads and paces distant, began to-

Gesture in silence.

“Not quite. It is of no harm.”

Impressions.

“Indeed. [Mental Qi]. A name of little significance.”

Shuidi urged Fu to meet the crowd, and he did, entering the boundary of [Array] flags that he supposed might be set into the plaza’s corners. At a toe’s passing, [Mental Qi] delivered a vocalized message. If unspoken by mouth.

“...

Few twitches came at this, and the Oranges were shown to indeed hold no concern.

she continued, statuesque in address. “

twitches came. Never voiced, but seen in the bemused gazes of each gathered citizen. Sidelong looks, glances and wary eyes.

here. ”

The dias beneath this cultivator then lifted, held by no ropes or pulley, and began an ascent to the tier above to mark the Yellow’s departure.

A second [Array] expanded from it.

“A mimicry of junior Linhua’s soundless [Art], Gao Fu. The monarchy of rules this place.”

Fu stroked his whisker, perhaps in gratitude. Perhaps not.

“Brother Yellow,” she half greeted, and this Vajra’s features wrinkled upon further inspection of the suddenly arriving cultivator. “No. An unenlightened. Speak, then. Doubtless there is some message I must hear.”

Aside her, Fu did not take a knee. “A message?” he said, tasting the word but speaking no more on it.

She waited, and a [Spirit Fox] unfurled from about her neck, twin tailed and amber-hued. I would have attention paid to my words.”

“Apologies,” he lied, showing no such remorse. “If a message is indeed carried, it is for another.”

The fox bristled with displeasure.

“Name yourself, cultivator. Any would know this face as an extension of my father’s. There are few where messages are concerned.”

“If this Yellow’s name was of importance, he would share it,” said Fu. “A humble vessel for [Sixth Under Heaven’s] use need not be known.”

Their platform met the highest tier, prompting both to cross from it. Here, the ghost parted, and set off in the opposite direction from this woman. An even, measured gait once more.

“To spurn me is to spurn Yellow Moon Hall! You dare to show so little face to one of the three great clans?”

Shuidi had searched the Vajra.

A [Core Formation] adolescent, perhaps of ages with Zhu. Her [Ink] of [Harmony] or [Spirit], for bare sleeves showed no stain upon brow nor arm as the remaining Paths would indicate.

To be so easily tempted spoke of youth, privilege or poor-rearing.

With a slight turn, the catfish’s words were spoken. “Imperial bylaw four hundred and six: Those that block the path of Imperial messengers in times of war are to be considered treasonous and become subject to the punishments associated therein.”

This woman paused to hear this from Fu’s mouth. “War? What foe rivals the Empire of Abundant [Spring] to such a degree that is named in place of clash or fray?”

Were he no ghost, the surprise may have claimed him too.

“Forgiveness, but time is short and there are words to be shared. This humble Yellow intends no disrespect,” he said, and cycled through Pinxui’s reports to pad his surely transparent lie. “This message must be delivered to the highest authority. Repository Heads and the offices of the City Magistrate.”

A glint of greed flashed in the woman’s eye. “My father is Asik, Patriarch of Yellow Moon Hall and second in authority only to our Magistrate. It is beneath me, but I will lend my aid in delivering this message. By grace, your burden is shared.”

“Yellow Moon Hall?”

“The most venerable of all clans within Five Silences City,” she snapped. “Of higher station than the Imperial Repositories, in truth. Perhaps you have your missives, messenger. It would be insult to name any but we as authority.”

Fu broke from her to set off in, truly, direction.

“” she snapped, marking this as some fresh insult. “Twice is this insult suffered. A third would be unwise.”

His walk continued. “Imperial bylaw four-”

Marrying such confidence and indifference resulted in a sharp cough and a shift in the woman’s demeanour. If the [Spirit Fox] did not. “Cousin, the path to Yellow Moon Hall lies elsewhere. To continue here would not see [SIxth Under Heaven’s] words delivered. The [Spring] Chime clan would delay you, and to move east the Three Intricacies clan would serve no better. Yes, to realize our great Emperor’s missive, we of Yellow Moon Hall will gather all you seek. That breath not be wasted.”

A reasonable man would slow at this.

“This humble Yellow is of no position to act outwith orders,” he said. “But even the blind recognize kindness. If the benevolent mistress could trouble herself to highlight the Imperial Repositories first, yes, it is a certainty that such a meeting of heads would be beneficial. Naturally, to be included in this humble cultivator’s report.”

Amber heat flared in the fox’s chest. Incensed at the address. So came a sneer from the woman. “Truly? Yellow Moon Hall will tend to them, on its honor. . Runners will be sent upon our arrival.”

“That is against Imperial protocol. Unless-” Fu stalled, severity in his look. “Unless the Young Mistress is of a station to speak for the Emperor?”

The fisherman had seen clams looser than what shift her face suddenly underwent. “The Imperial Repositories. There is- ah, there is honor in such diligence. Travel that road and you will see Five Silences City’s twin structures before long,” she said, grimacing as she was reduced to a common signpost. “On return, seek the avenue of Yellow Moons, that will see you to our great clan’s estate.”

Fu composed a half-bow. “Gratitude. The generosity of Yellow Moon Hall will be well remembered. This humble Yellow will make haste so that their appointment at dusk might be met punctually.”

“See that you do,” she sneered.

A corner was turned. A street followed. An octopus summoned. A [Dao] conjured to deliver Fu to the vexingly low rooftops of this Yellow district. From here he watched, and stalked.

The proud young mistress bore a look of… exuberance in her step, and Hushi impressed curiosity on why.

????

Dusk.

An oddity presented in the density of those about Five Silences City, for the bare avenues held a moving population to rival the Four Corners Prefecture’s. Indeed the vanishing of day was opposite to most locales Fu had known, as here the citizenry only grew.

Cowled in yellow, Anfang and Su Sai perched aside him, expectant.

“Three Intricacies clan. A low compound that fields middle [Core Formation] experts. The interior structures do not hold [Arrays], but the perimeter wall fields similarity to a [Air Repulsion Defensive Array]. Disciple Anfang, it is best navigated above.”

A nod returned, and her [Spirit Spider] looked to prepare with a knitting of web between its long spindles. “As you say, senior.”

“Su Sai, the [Spring] Chime clan is west and south. They bear the look of ascetics, and the daoists of our Clear Sky Empire. If any intelligence is to be gathered then it may be only in observation. Thus, watch their pagoda, and see what might be gleaned.”

His [Spirit Serpent] hissed, though Fu could not parse the inflection. “If I’ve notice of what to gather then I’d make swifter work of it,” Sai finally spoke.

Fu rubbed his whisker. “All that you would use to belittle them in comparison to the Cloudy Serpent Sect,” he said, musing that a cultivator striving for fame should know this much. “But moreso, relative strength. This I could not glean when Hushi and I followed Yellow Moon Hall’s runners. With fortune, we might find these places emptied for the never-to-arrive news of War.”

Something akin to humor crunkled Anfang’s lips, though Sai remained severe. They parted, putting the night-masked outline of Xiong’s smaller Warship to their rear as the city outskirts were reached.

Those that called it home would receive their messenger, this was as certain as the Heavens were vast.

Yet he would not walk among them.

No, his role was as the spectre that stole to their rooftop some time later.

One suffused with such [Spectral Qi] that he passed through eave and slate to arrive within the structure’s tallest point.

Fu’s [Divine Sense] expanded alongside Shuidi’s regular searching, unmarred as they strayed from descending eave to strut, and on, stall above a gathering of many figures.

Guesswork put Asik, the mentioned Patriarch of Yellow Moon Hall, at their fore. A man of immaculate posture that stood where others did not, regarding a distant entrance. Command radiated here, shown in how those eager, seated cultivators placed adjacent to his grand throne lent no voices to the for their storied messenger.

Those that foolish assumption might mark as the clan, this clan, core or branch members of Asik’s own. A sea of blades for his Wayward Winds. Fires to temper, perhaps, vexations or threats.

For the moment, he merely marked their [Spirit Beasts]. What height of [Cultivation Realm] these perceived experts stood at. Potential combat styles or [Affinites].

Temperament could not be judged without interference, for Asik’s steady look held the complaints of all at bay.

Then, a cry.

Not of divine intervention, for it came some hour into observation. But a cry all the same.

Yellow Moon Hall’s great entrance was darkened by a rushing figure, a true messenger if [Spirit Stork] and proffered scroll could be trusted. “Venerable Patriarch,” she began, and flurried through all of note until “esteemed guests,” was reached.

“Trickery?” called a seated cultivator, his voice snivelling and wretched. “The Three Intricacies clan have eyes no? Asik, this child is no Imperial messenger!”

The gathering grew discordant, and Fu tried best to match names to those below.

“A trite task. Lend your [Senses] elsewhere.”

“An affront. What machination is this? Yellow Moon Hall wishes to waste our time?”

“Amitabha. Time spent in good company is no time wasted.”

“The passing into late [Spring] exhausts enough without this addition, Asik!”

With a the Patriarch subjugated these protests. One rap upon his throne to settle all. “We will hear these words.”

“The [Far Whisper] arrives, venerable Patriarch.”

Uproar.

“At this hour?”

“The tide is yet high?”

Cries came in this variation until Asik rapped again. “How many, messenger?”

“Eight thousand dead, and rising. Five Silences City has surrendered two mines to the sea already,” replied the messenger.

Asik rapped a third time. “A regrettable day.”

Above, silent, Fu found that he did not agree.