The silence that washed over everything was almost palpable. The tension in the air disappeared, the table with drinks and foods was crooked and about to fall—and it would have, if it wasn't for the little boy gripping the edge of it with his foot. Well, he was the one who made it like this in the first place, after all. This was the least he could do.
The three beings sitting were confused, all with slightly wide open eyes, sweat dripping down their cheeks; even if one was a master, something so random would have made anyone go blank for a few seconds. The beautiful woman finally let out a sound, one closer to a masculine grunt than a soft voice you would assume should come out of her. Her voice was rough and mature.
— Now, who is this boy? — The question surely all three of them wanted to ask. She picked up the table with her petite hand and straightened it, finally letting Sen pull away his foot. The drinks have spilled already, but none of them really paid much attention to that part. — Is he one of your guests, Sword Collector?
The rough-looking man glared at the naked kid, held the stare for a couple of seconds and then stared at the woman. There was a wide, goofy grin on his face. — No clue! — And he laughed, gripping onto his stomach like it was the funniest thing on this planet. Sen's eyes darted from one side to the other, but in the end, they drifted back to the middle, to right where the old man was sitting. His eyes were like most beautifully lit night sky and now they were staring straight at him. It made Sen gulp softly, but no intent or anything of the sort came to face him. The man just... sat there, looking straight forward, ocassionally reaching out to grab a cup of tea that was now kicked onto the table.
As the lady giggled and the man kept on laughing, Sen darted forward and grabbed the cup, straightening it for the old man to grab. Then, he moved back a little while looking at the weird trio. As they kept on laughing and not paying much attention to him, Sen made fists from his small hands and started to speak, again barely managing to piece together words.
— Ple... please help... me. I... revenge... want — as he spoke up, the laughter subsided and the two now shifted their attention back to him. Sen was bowing with his eyes glued to the ground, not daring to look up. A minute passed... two minutes, five. Maybe ten? There was no sound from any of them. Curious, he looked up to see them blankly staring down at him.
This made his heart start pounding again. It was very similar to what the dragon's glare did before, making his stomach churn and his insides burn hot. Letting out a grunt, he stretched out his fingers and dig them into the wooden boards underneath him. With gritted teeth and saliva dripping from the corner of his mouth, he fought against the pressure and barely looked up, words following right after. — I... my... revenge... Do... anything... — And that was when his eyelids felt simply too heavy, his eyes closing. He passed out.
I was falling. Deep, deep into darkness. Did I fail? Was it the end, just like that? I skipped the steps and got into the audience with these beings, only to die? No. Not happening. I refuse to give up just like this. Even if I'm going to have to claw myself out of Hell, I'll come back and... and...
...And what? I'm powerless. Even asking for help didn't work. I can try again, but what if the next time will be more painful? What if I ask for help someone evil, someone with intent so vile it will devour me whole? Ugh, even left and tossed aside ever since birth... I'm sure others have had it worse. I had a roof over my head, at the very least.
But is my revenge less important than the revenge of someone who possibly could have had it worse? They gave up on me just because I was born the way I was. Everyone in that household is complicit. No one helped, not even one person.
If I could... If I could just—
And the thick darkness became alit with stars, little shining diamonds in the night. Sen's working eye, usually dark in color, shone with the countless of the little stars reflecting off of his iris. In the middle of his vision and no matter where he looked, a man was standing. He wore the starry night as his cloak. His long hair and deep features screamed power. A scar going across his forehead. A man of such stature could not be just anyone.
Hell—
— Don't worry, you can speak. You are currently asleep, but I'm using my energy to manifest myself directly in your head. We have met before, haven't we? Thank you for getting me my tea — the voice echoed throughout the darkness. It was low, commandeering, powerful. Sen didn't know what to do at first, if he needed to bow or answer, or maybe just keep quiet and let the man continue speaking. He kept his eyes on the man, however, in fear of perhaps angering him. Then, just as his eyes wavered slightly, the man disappeared and appeared in front of Sen. This didn't seem like just any dash, the man was there... and now he is here. — Woah!
The little boy lost his balance and started leaning back, quickly moving his hands in an effort to not fall. It felt like certain death and abyss awaited him if he let himself go down. In a last ditch effort, he grabbed the man's robe and pulled himself forward to him. Well, now that wasn't good. He probably shouldn't have done that, huh?
— Haha! That is one way to keep yourself on your feet, little boy. Is that your way to show how much you want your revenge? — The man didn't seem angry. He spoke calmly, even smiling softly at the frightened Sen. After a second, the kid pulled his hands away and bowed his head. Somehow, his words seemed to come more easily to him here. — I... am sorry. I thought it was the only way to not fall. It felt like if I just let go, I would have started falling between the stars. But... this... does this mean you can help me with my revenge!?
The boy's exctatic voice echoed not unlike the man's before. There was no immediate answer, instead he waved his hand and the scenery changed. They were now standing in front of the gazebo structure with the three beings still sitting in the same position, a dragon wrapped around the top of it... and Sen, sleeping on the lap of the woman's. He didn't say anything while looking at it, just slowly stared at the man next to him. — Am... am I dead?
It was the only way for him to wrap his head around the situation, seeing himself out of his body like this. The man chuckled, shaking his head. He answered. — No, boy. You are just out cold. These two... they like to play. You must understand, we haven't had guests in a long while. Well, actually, for you to understand, I suppose greetings are in order. — His hand pointed to the man sitting in the middle, the one with the scar across his forehead. He, then, pointed to his own forehead where the same scar was, but with black ichor dripping from it. — That is me.
— We four were cursed by our enemies, for many a different reason, but the consesus would be... we were too strong. They couldn't kill us, so they changed us. Me, a master stuck in the old man's body. Her, once the singstress with abilities to destroy cities with her voice now unable to sing. Him, a man with knowledge and mastery of all weapons, dumbed down into more of a monkey than human. ...And the dragon, you could say it sore too close to the sun. — The man explained, no sorrow in his voice. Was it acceptance or just inability to feel things? He changed the scenery once more with a wave of his hand, back to the starry expanse.
— My name is Xu Boqin. I was once known as the Galaxy's Thrice—Crowned. Us four are legendary martial artists now stuck here for the rest of eternity. We saw how cities were built, we saw them fall, we saw billions of people dying. We killed many. Maybe we were too arrogant, maybe vainglorious, maybe we thought we could do anything. Our power could not be rivaled, but those dear to us have betrayed us. We had feelings — the man continued speaking, his body moving forward, walking across the dark abyss. Shaken slightly, Sen followed and... he felt his feet touch something, something he could walk on.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
He followed hurriedly after the man. Where they were walking, Sen had no idea. He only followed, listening to the man. The man continued speaking — We have all decided to take you under our wing. Now, we are four different masters. Our specialities vary. Yue, the woman you saw, knows of sound techniques, personal interactions, acting, instruments, history and human relations. She was born from a courtesan in a house of love, her abilities blossomed from a very young age. Even younger than you. She was taken advantage of, often beaten and abused, but she perservered. They say a woman scorned is what should frighten you the most. It's true.
As the man spoke, he waved his hand as if painting. The woman's much younger portrait erected itself from the darkness. She was beautiful, curvy and with pinkish, long hair that was wrapped at the back of her head, allowing strands of it descend upon her naked shoulders. She wore a blue robe, accenting her rosy cheeks and lips, as well as the deep, light white eyes. — She killed every person in the country that dared to rape or murder without a reason. She would use sound techniques to ensare men and women alike and wound them so deeply they couldn't cling to life no more. I suppose there is a lesson in it. Do not do what you wouldn't want to wish upon yourself. She was known as the Mistress of the Cherry Bosom. Cherry Bosom was the name of the whorehouse where she lived all her life, from birth. Quite a name, isn't it? When she killed a woman a known assassin loved after an accident at the love house, the assassins did what they knew best. They slit her throat.
Next, he took a turn and delved deeper into the starry night. He rose his hand and a massive picture slid itself from beyond the horizon. It depicted war, a battlefield of bodies with numerous wounds and only one man standing on the pile of bodies. Many of them were missing arms, legs, some heads, some looked as if still alive, writhing inside of the painting. The man sighed out deeply and just looked at it, his arms behind his back. He held one hand with the other. — Wu Ping. He was just a farmer when he was forced to take his first kill after someone tried to burn his land out of jealousy. He used a sickle to cut the man, burying him deep in the ground. After that, each night, he had nightmares of the man coming back to life and digging his way out of the afterlife. His idea was to train himself. He learned every weapon, thought of every plan, never went anywhere without at least a knife. When the Great War came, he was sent to the frontlines. No one knew of his abilities. When he saw another man's blood, he went into frenzy and murdered every single person that stood before him that day. Friend or foe.
His arm slowly touched the painting and it changed, now showing the man who was once covered in blood sitting in a serene garden with animals around him. A woman sat beside him, her head in his lap. — This was what he dreamed of before comitting murder. He loved animals. He wanted a family. What bloodshed took from him, he couldn't get it back. As his legend grew, people once more became jealous. Betrayed by his lover and poisoned with a drug, he was kept on it for years until his brain forgot most what he knew. When he was imprisoned here with us, he barely knew how to put words together. The lesson here... I suppose, you must be at peace with your actions. If you decide to kill, make sure to remember their faces. Wu Ping was known as the Rakshasa on the battlefield, a monster that only knew death.
There was a certain pain in his voice now. He sighed, shaking his head, then continued. — He will be able to teach you how to handle weapons. Swords, knives, bows, staffs, and so on. In his hands, anything can be a weapon. Even a simple stone or his own hands. He has come a long way now. He might be a little childish at times, but he remembers all of his memories. He will teach you strategy, battle forms and how to survive in a wilderness. Legends say he even knew how to talk to animals and ask for their help. — A chuckle escaped his lips as he made the painting disappear with his hand once more. He looked at Sen, gave a soft smile and erected one more canvas. This time, it showed the dragon that had colorful scales, his body elongated and wrapped around an orb, his body coiled in on itself.
— This dragon was my brother. When I was known by my title, he was called the Divine Soaring Dragon. Our sect... hm, how to call it. Our sect had a motto. By humans, for humans, against humans. As I trained to become more than just human, my little brother took his lessons seriously. Our clan's techniques allowed us to create. He had natural talent in it. He knew how to made the storm come, he turned stone into metal and shaped it into swords, he... was too much for the clan head, our father. What our father achieved in his lifetime, my little brother did in maybe a couple of years. His abilites came easy — he stopped, longingly looking at the painting. He was silent like this for a few moments, before continuing abruptly. — And it was just too much. They made en example of him, using the power of all elders and the clan head to transform him into this monstrosity. Dragons are meant to represent nature, they are made by earth and they serve it. He, who was forcibly turned into it, maybe was given a blessing by whatever powers govern our world. They kept him stuck behind metal which dampened our powers for centuries, and only when I was moved into this prison of ours, he was too.
The silence that followed was not normal quiet. It felt like any sound could not exist. As the man's otherwise stoic face fell into a grimace, the painting suddenly dispersed into the stars. They were thrown across the galaxy and disappeared into nothing. A deep, long sigh came out of Boqin. He looked at Sen and just smiled once more, the black substance dripping from his wound. It wasn't just blood. It seemed like something else. — It will teach you our clan's technique. I will teach you my own. Both of us will help you with your breathing, as well as Qi gathering. But hmm, this lesson must be easy to understand. Can you tell me what you think, Sen?
The boy looked at the man and didn't say anything at first. He slightly reached up to touch the scarred eye, shuddering. His other eye looked up directly at the man. — ...do not trust your family. Even your closest can betray you. — And that was that. The handsome man spoke no another word, instead keeping his smile and waving a hand. The world shattered and cracked, leaving the boy alone across the broken night before his conciousness came back to him. He heaved, quickly getting up into a sitting position. He had clothes on now, a black material of sorts that hugged his body tightly. It felt too tight, his chest moving and up down, and the material relaxed, giving his body more space to breathe.
A deep, gravely voice suddenly spoke up, scaring the boy into standing right up. He remembered at that point, seeing himself on the woman's lap from the different perspective. — My, my, seems like you are awake at last. Did you two have a great talk? — She asked, covering her mouth with her hand as she looked at the old man that was stuck doing the same action, just sipping tea from his cup. Albeit her voice was that of a sick man, her beauty was still present. She was mostly naked, her body wrapped in her own hair and bits of flowy material. Sen gulped and nodded, afraid to say something in case his voice wasn't going to be the same like in his head. However, as his lips opened and moved, he found himself talking normally.
— Yes... ma'am. I, uh, spoke with Galaxy's Thrice Crowned. He told me about all of you, or at least bits and pieces — it felt weird to be able to talk, but it quickly became a feeling he couldn't want to let go of. He couldn't help but crack a small smile. The woman chuckled, her mouth still covered. A woman this pretty didn't seem like a fighter, at least to Sen. She seemed so delicate and the way she carried herself... it felt as if she needed protecting. Sen gulped as she spoke.
— Ho, ho, ho. It's quite alright. That old man loves to move his lips. Since we all agreed and you already know us, it will be much easier to explain things. Your days will be cut in four. Six hours with each of us. From midnight to six, you will sleep and rest your body. Boqin will teach you what he has to offer. After you wake up, from six to twelve, you will learn from me. A young boy's brain soaks in information the best early. From twelve to eighteen, Wu Ping will have you. This is where you will rest your mind and train your body. And from sixteen to twenty four, the Divine Soaring Dragon's lessons will take place. It should help you relax after the body training. Do you have any questions? — She smiled, her eyes closing as she did. Sen stood there and made a fist, finally feeling like his life was going to turn for the better. He yelled out. — No, ma'am! No questions at all!
She stood up and walked closer to Sen, leaning down. Her hand moved and she patted the little kid's hair, still smiling. Without anything else to say, she walked down the few steps and took a turn towards the cherry blossom tree. Now looking closer and with a clearer mind, Sen could see a small hut in the distance behind it. It seemed like all of them, or some of them, have their own housing. He looked back and saw the old man still continuing the same action. The man who murdered so many people rivers would turn blood was now sleeping on the wooden floor, snoring happily without a worry in life. Sen sighed out and sat down, pouring the man tea from a glass teapot. The green tea that was poured quickly reappeared inside of the dish. This place was truly insane, wasn't it?
