The Way of Heaven Part 2

Areani Snow

She brushed away a few strands of long black hair from her face as she stood at the bottom of an enormous set of stairs that led upward into the mountains. The stairs were carved from the side of the mountain. About ten paces wide, she could not how far up the mountainside they led, for mists obscured the way fifty steps up. This must be the one thousand steps of Aldebaran. She would be the first of the Praetorium to see Aldebaran, a place talked about everywhere on the island. Her information gathering had led her to believe that it might be a myth. She was not allowed to interact with any people in a land about to be civilized by the Praetorium, only watch, listen, observe patterns.

Other Areani sent to find Aldebaran either could not find it, or did not return. There were always losses in the Areani when scouting a new land. Some were discovered when observing, some got too involved. Those discovered killed themselves. Those that got involved or did not kill themselves were quietly removed before any Generals could find out. It would not be well for the Areani to be seen as having difficulties. They would lose their independence from the military and the empire.

Independence. That was why Snow had chosen to be an Areani. She had never cared about the Praetorium. The empire to her was an obscene machine of uniformity. She was interested in seeing places without the bland daily routine of life in the empire. Out in the far reaches of the Praetorium’s expanding territories, she was alone, away from the brainwashing glory of the civilized world. She had been quiet in her movement through the imperium, saying what was proper at the right time, doing the work of the Areani correctly. Long ago Snow realized her mind was where the empire would never be. She watched people in new lands, living without civilization. She watched elementals, those who could harness life energy and shape it to their will, walk and talk like any other human. She felt sadness for them. Life in the empire for an elemental meant being attached to the Generator for the rest of their lives, which she had heard was extremely long compared to normal humans. She remembered them all, reviewing them in her mind over and over until she knew them like she knew her Areani brethren, many of whom were of like mind.

Calming her mind with her exhalation, she started up the stairs. Her long white cloak, which was her disguise on the island, kept her warm in the cool morning air and kept the dampness from getting at her pale skin. It also hid her face, which was clearly not of that land, round, with slightly almond shaped dark eyes. It was not of the empire either, but blood was so mixed in everywhere but the Homeland that it was not unusual. Areani Wind joked that she must have southern blood, she did resemble the only southern people in the empire, the General’s advisors and seers. There were only twenty of them though, one for every General, and they did not speak. They wrote cryptic messages only.

Snow counted the steps as she ascended, not believing that there could truly be one thousand steps. As she reached forty, she stopped, looking west at the path behind her. The shadow of the mountain kept the air cold. She could see the dirt road that led back to the forest, vanishing into the thick, untouched growth. She stood just below the treetops. A sea of green, it appeared to her, the edge of the forest a wave that would never crash into the mountain shore. To the north she could make out a lake through the treetops. To the south more evergreens. In the sky she could see wisps of clouds, getting thicker to the north. Turning east again, she continued on, and at fifty steps she walked into the mist. The fog was thick, and she could not see the where stair’s edges met the mountainside. She felt as though she were walking in a dream, up stairs in a world of endless grey. She felt completely alone as she passed seventy, still in the mist. A peace settled into her; as though the world outside the mist, the world of the empire and the conquered was only a bad dream. As Snow passed one hundred and twenty stairs her steps, echoing loudly in the silent grey, felt light, as though the mist was seeping into her. At one hundred and fifty steps, a voice spoke to her as though a man stood beside her.

“Most turn back now.” It said, thunderous in the quiet emptiness.

I am not most. She thought, unwilling to speak, for interaction was forbidden. And she thought the voice might be some kind of elemental work, an automatic response.

“I know who you are. Do you?” It asked.

Her regular steps faltered, making a dissonant sound in the grey. He knows, she thought, I am discovered. She stopped at one sixty. The ethereal grey remained constant. She was indecisive for a moment, unsure whether she should turn and run back, or continue on. Turning back meant risking someone finding out she had been seen. Continuing on meant leaving the empire, meeting people of this land. Felling a mass of emotion in her chest, she took a slow step upward, and another.

“Very good,” said the voice, “you have taken your first steps toward seeing the Way.”

For the next thirty steps, she no longer felt light, the pull of being Areani Snow was like weights on her feet, the urge to run still in her mind. It began to bleed away into the grey.

As she passed two hundred and fifty, the mist changed, becoming lighter. She saw tendrils of fog weaving around each other as a cool breath of air passed by her. She began to think there might actually be one thousand steps to Aldebaran. She stopped at again at three hundred, removing her hide satchel and pulling out her waterskin, a piece of hard bread, and a birch-bark container of blueberries she picked on the forest trail the day before. She sat down, grateful for the rest. Her gratitude soon became discomfort from the hardness of the stone on her soft bottom. Shifting her weight helped for less than a minute, and she shifted several times before finishing eating.

Smart Areani did not have to make themselves hard to sleep under the stars every night. Cities and towns were always found near water. And where there was running water, there were trees, grass, small bushes. Smart Areani made comfortable beds, well hidden. Good rest meant a good day ahead. As she raised her skin and drank the flat water, she realised she wasn’t very thirsty for all the walking she had done. Rising, she replaced the dark brown deerskin satchel on her slim shoulder and noticed she actually did not feel tired either. What a strange place, she thought, looking around for a moment. But there was still nothing to see. Light grey, instead of the earlier deep grey. She moved onwards, upwards.

She stopped counting at four hundred, thinking it anal to actually count all the steps. There were likely one thousand. The air became colder as Snow felt time pass internally. The voice spoke no more words as she ascended, hoping for something to change, something to see. As if in answer to her thoughts, the fog parted with a gust of cold wind. She was greeted by a sky heavy with soft, dark clouds. Remembering how many steps she had climbed, she spun around to see the land below. The steps and most of the mountain below was obscured by the mist, but she could see the tree line stretching south to the edge of her vision. To the north she could see darker, and snow falling, making the land white. Snow? It is still summer. Having been on the island for a year, she thought the seasons to be the same as in the Homeland.

Looking west, she took a deep breath of cold, clear air and basked in the glory of the sight before her, tears running down her smiling face. So beautiful, this land. Green trees gave way to emerald grassland. A lake in the southwest looked like a dark puddle with three pebbles for islands. Snow raised a brown hide gloved hand to wipe tears from her pale, smooth face. The wind felt cold on her wet face. She stood for a few minutes longer, watching the snow roll southward. She shivered, feeling the snow was wrong. It looked too…uniform. Imperial snow, she thought as she turned to continue.

The stair continued toward a statue at the top. Snow could make out no features as she walked, but could see it was grey, much like everything else on the mountain. The stairs were not steep, taking her between two peaks which stretched beyond the clouds above. The steps began to have walls, getting taller as she advanced.

She kept her eyes on the statue at the top as she closed in on the end of the one thousand steps, and her breath caught when the statue began pacing back and forth. Not a statue, a person. Fear and excitement rushed through her in a wave. Her heart raced as she neared the end of the long stairway. She tried to think of what she would say, but no words would form in her mind. She could see it was a man, short yet solid as he walked back and forth with easy strides. He wore loose, dark blue clothes that she recognized, but could not place. It was cold. Snow left her hood up, still in the guise of a white woman. If it went badly she knew she could run away. Through the long cloak, she eased her thin longsword a thumb-length out of its sheath.

As she reached the last couple of steps she slowed, casting her gaze on the man that now stood watching her approach, hands held behind his back. As she saw his face clearly, she was taken aback. She knew where his clothes were from. He is a southerner! He had dark, sun browned skin on a handsome round face. His black eyes watched her move, and a smile formed, lighting up his face, transforming him from a stern observer to a well known friend. His night blue clothing, the same style the southern advisors wore, fluttered loudly in the wind. His black hair, held in a single long braid, waved like a snake in the growing tempest. Snow’s cloak flapped wide, revealing her own loose cotton pants, plain and straight, brown and green coloured thread mixed together to blend in with forests and grasslands. She turned herself as she faced him, so her hood would not be blown open. She did not want him too see her wide eyes from the surprise of who he might be.

“Not who you expected?” he said laughing softly. His voice was hard to hear over the wind, and his words flowed into one another. Unlike the way those of the empire spoke, distinct, pronouncing each word individually. The people native to the island spoke the same, but softer, rounder.

“No. You are a southerner.” She said.

“How astute. And you are not a white woman.” He said. He turned his face to the sky for a moment. “This way, there is a place to talk.” He walked away, motioning for her to follow. “And, there are no more stairs to walk up.”

Snow followed him along a long, smooth stone corridor. She could not see anything but mountain and clouds, until she found herself beside him at the edge of another stairway, leading down. It was not as long as the other side. It led to an island, sitting on a large river, the final steps were a bridge across the fast flowing water. A wall of green surrounded the island, and she could see brown rooftops among the green. A small lake, barely larger than a pond, held three green spots which she took to be even smaller islands. The green colour of the place was like a beacon surrounded by the grey of the mountains all around. Beautiful, she thought.

“Did you not say no more stairs?” she asked. The wind did not reach where they stood, making her words sounds loud. Her eyes were stuck on the green place below.

When no answer came, she turned her head, to see the man staring at her. Her hood had fallen off. His eyes widened as he saw her awareness of his scrutiny. He quickly looked away, down the mountain.

“I said no more stairs to walk up. Those stairs,” he said, grinning, “go down. That is Aldebaran. Come, we will rest, and talk.” He walked away, toward a small stone structure she hadn’t noticed. She followed, many thoughts coming and going in flashes through her mind. Inside the small cubicle was a stone bench with cushions, and a table. She sat down on one of the soft cushions and looked out at the view of Aldebaran, through a window cut from a stone wall. The man had walked through a doorway to another room and returned a short time later with two small ceramic cups and a plain teapot.

“My name,” he began, pouring the steaming dark liquid into a cup and handing it to her while bowing, “is Jin Lei.” She accepted the cup with a nod of her head. “I have been rude, in not introducing myself earlier.” He looked into her dark eyes, searching. He poured a cup for himself as he continued. “I had to be sure you were one of us.”

“One of who?” she said.

“One from the south, one of Wu.” He said.

“I am not. I am from the empire.” She said. She didn’t know what to say, for she was beyond what Areani were allowed in a land to be conquered. She was no longer from the empire. This is my home, she thought, looking into the teacup at her pale, distorted reflection. Just this, these clothes and this body, even this teacup. She sipped the dark liquid. It had an earthy taste and aroma, almost unpleasant, but it’s warmth spread through her body, relaxing her.

“You mean, you were from the empire.” He said. Snow’s head came up as he spoke her thoughts. “Look at my face. Look at yours. Do you see those dark eyes, and that black hair often in the empire? In this land?” he sat down beside her at the table, his back to the window. “There are things you do not know, Areani Snow. The advisors to the generals, myself, and many others, we are all connected. We meet, in the south, in the ancient homeland, Xia, every year.” Jin stopped, sipping his tea. He shook his head. “I am going the wrong way about this,” he said quietly. “I must first tell you about Wu.”

“Most of us are descended from the original nation of Wu. They look like we do. Wu was once a country; prosperous, peaceful. A great army came, the Ilmari, much like your empire. But they only wanted to destroy Wu. And they did. The capital, Xia, was destroyed. Completely.”

“Some escaped into the forests, and we found each other there. We hungered for retribution, but knew we had no power to defeat any army. So we submitted ourselves to the army, enduring the pain of joining our enemies and killing many innocent people for eleven years. Not suspect after such long distinguished service, we were trusted warriors of the Ilmari.” Jin took another drink and stood, looking out the window toward Aldebaran. Snow watched him, his eyes unfocused. The muscles in his neck stood out, tense, and his hands gripped the stone around the window, turning his fingers white.

“It was on this island we found ourselves, in the southwest woods, at the end of the eleventh year since the death of our nation. The time had come. We had the plan prepared for years. We could not poison the river, but most warriors rarely drank water in the evenings. We poisoned the ale casks. All of them. There were four hundred of us, so it was not difficult. The poison put them to sleep first, but they would not wake up from it. When they asleep, we killed the eighty generals and captains with our blades in their tents. The Ilmari warlord drank the ale. We did not have to do anything more. The next morning, eight thousand were dead. Two thousand still lived, leaderless. We were gone, making our way back to our homeland. Victorious.”

“We returned to find our land empty, abandoned. We tried working the land again, tried building Xia again. But our anger was undiminished, and our memories were strong. Fighting began amongst ourselves, because we had killed so many in the eleven years before our revenge. It had eaten our souls away.” Snow saw a tear roll down Jin’s face. She turned, uncomfortable at seeing his emotions. the walls began pressing in on her, so she looked out the window, not seeing anything as she listened.

“We had become our enemy. All the things we hated the Ilmari for, we had done. Our revenge was not excuse enough.”

“We fought. Four hundred became one fifty before we stopped. We met in Xia, and realized there was no longer a land called Wu. There was only the few people, standing there. So we left. We left to find other armies, empires. We would stop others from making the same mistakes we did. We would stop armies before they destroyed.”

“I was so very tired. I came here, years ago, running away from all the things I knew in my life. I found this place, empty and dirty. I cleaned it, nurtured life down there,” he pointed to the green at the bottom. He released his grip on the stone. “And peace came to me again. And with peace, a new power.” He smiled.

“Four young travelers stumbled into my home. I nearly killed them in fear, but they became my students. I taught them the Way of the Fist, and the Way of the Blade. They taught about this new power, for only two were truly young. I taught them about Xia, and as time moved on, a few others. Now this place is even known here in this land. I did not teach them about Xia the city, but Xia the Way, for that is all that is left of that place. So, we are of Wu, and Xia is the Way. That is the teaching.”

Snow looked at her half-empty cup. Steam no longer rose from it. The cold mountain air had cooled it. She took a drink and grimaced as she swallowed the now unpleasant tea. “I do not know what to say,” she said, putting the cup down. “This tea is no longer good.”

She laughed. “That is not what I mean to say. You speak as though you saw these things. But the Homeland has no record of this in its history. This must have happened long ago, but your face is young, strong.” She tried to read his eyes, but they were dark. She could see nothing, felt nothing but the sensation of falling into them.

“That is all true. Nevertheless, I was there.” He said, his eyes becoming unfocused, his brow tensing as he concentrated on something Snow could not see. She felt a terrible knowledge sweep across her mind, as his white of his eyes slowly disappeared. He looked at her with black orbs where is eyes once were.

“You,” she began pushing herself backward along the bench, one hand reaching for her blade, “You are one of them!” she slid off the end of the bench, coming to her feet as her sword came up in a defensive position. Something felt wrong to her as she backed toward the doorway. She felt angry at being deceived, yet part of her felt she had not been deceived at all. Elementals are to be given to the Generator, her mind told her. But another part of her asked, Why?

As she came to the doorway, Snow noticed Jin Lei had not moved from the window. His face looked calm as he faced her across the room. She had knocked over the cold teacup and a pool of dark water lay on the grey stone table. The air stirred at her neck as cold steel touched her skin. A voice behind her said, “You won’t harm the Master.” She did not have to think.

As she heard the words spoken behind her, her right leg was already moving. Tilting forward, she extended her leg in a back kick which sent the owner of the voice sliding backward. She saw red hair and heard a masculine grunt as she turned and ran out the doorway toward the form now laying on the stone outside. Her sword made a downward arc, whistling as it cut the air, toward her new adversary. Bright blue eyes snapped open, widening in fear as she bore down with the killing blow. She didn’t see the steel that blocked her stroke; only felt the shock in her arm, and heard the ring as her blade was parried away at the last instant. Snow’s footsteps carried her past the man, and she turned around as her momentum faded. Her opponent was on his fee as she came around, holding two short swords in front of him. She saw he was a young man, with shoulder length thick, red hair, and light blue eyes, narrowed in focus on her. As he backed away, Jin Lei came into the doorway. Large snow flakes began falling as she prepared herself for the next attack.

“Who are you, boy?” she asked looking for a way to escape. She had no idea what kind of power the Master of Aldebaran had. The pale skinned youth said nothing as he backed himself to where Jin stood, until the Master hit him on the shoulder with the back of a fist.

“Phelan Einar, apprentice to Jin Lei.” He said, dropping his blades to his sides and bowing. “May I ask who you are, so we may properly finish this fight, knowing each other’s names?”

“Areani Snow,” she said, unsure of what else to say. She could no longer rightly call herself Areani. She was a scout no more. She knew there was no longer any going back. She did not lower her blade. In her anger, she decided she would bow to no one. She would not give herself to any person, or any empire that thought they knew what was right.

“She is the one, Master?” Phelan asked in a voice that sounded like a song. Jin nodded. “Why was she trying to kill you?”

“She was not trying to kill me, apprentice. She was afraid. She has never met one of our kind. Elementals do not walk freely in the empire. They are captured and given to something call the Generator. What is this?” he asked, directing his question to Snow.

She was caught unaware by his question, and her answer was automatic. “It is that which gives light and heat to the Empire.” She shook her head, feeling her small measure of control slipping away. “No.” She said. “Do not try to draw me out. What is your intention here? Release your hold on your power, and speak to me as a human. What do you want?” The snow thickened, and she noted the absence of the sound of the wind from the west side of the mountain.

“I am sorry.” Jin said softly, and let out a long breath as the black drew back from the edges of his eyelids. “There. Now, what do you want?”

“What does that mean?” She said.

“I want what you want,” he said, taking a step forward. “But you do not even know what you want. You came here. Looking for something. Searching for the Way. Do you feel alone in the empire, watching all those people living peacefully without the control?”

“Yes.” She said, her blade coming down. She sheathed it with a shaking hand. “How could you know this?”

“All people are alone, not seeing the Way.” Jin looked west, staring into the snow, silent for a long moment. “And some,” he said, still looking away, “lose the way after they have been shown. They walk in the dark until they decide to choose the light.”

“I do not want to watch anymore.” She said. “I must do something.”

“Then go, with my apprentice, down to Aldebaran. It is not far, for your vision has been distorted by my work up here. I do not suffer any idiot who wishes to learn the Way. I also do not suffer those who are impatient,” he said, looking at Phelan, who bowed his head meekly, “and assume the Master cannot defend himself. Go, please. And no more fighting for now.”

“What of yourself?” She asked.

“An old apprentice comes,” he sighed, “and I must give him a teaching before we return.” Jin moved close to Snow, putting a hand on her tense arm. He spoke quietly. “Do not fear the elemental power. It is the source of all things.”

“We will see,” she said, looking into his face. “I will go below, and I will not kill your student.”

“Do you think you could?” he said, taking his hand away slowly.

Areani Snow began walking toward the east stairway, pulling on her gloves and raising her hood over her shining black hair, which was wet from the snow. “There is no doubt that I can.”

He watched them as they descended out of view, Phelan’s hands waving as he talked. Snow’s cloak swayed in a steady rhythm as she walked. “Beautiful.” Jin said to the air.
His breath faded into the cold air. He breathed in the wet cold, taking it to his centre, the source of his power. He let the cold expand throughout his body to harden him for the teaching he had to give to his other apprentice, one of his first.

“Come and let us see if you have found the Way at last, Armitage.”