Demon of Dawn and Dusk

Clan Wind Dance’s main build was large with plenty of open spaces, fitting for a clan of cultivators that practiced a Wind-aligned cultivation technique. The building itself was crescent shaped, to mimic the form of the Wind Cleave technique, one of Clan Wind Dance’s signature moves. The central hall was a long, rectangular room decorated with vases, tapestries, and other forms of artwork, all in the colors of Clan Wind Dance: blue, silver, and white.

Most of the time, the central room’s wooden floor was covered with rugs bearing intricate designs, but for today’s event the rugs had been cleared away. The air smelled clean and clear, which made sense given the main hall’s position halfway up Mt. Wind Dance, Clan Wind Dance’s home. I suspected that this was half the reason why my clan built their main building this high up.

The ceiling stood at twice my height, supported by six wooden pillars. The pillars were carved with images of flying spirit beasts; birds for the most part, such as rocs and cranes, but there were also images of dragons and qilins. Glass skylights, enchanted to keep out the cold, let in plenty of light when it was day and provided a view of the stars when it was night. It was currently noon, and the sun’s light filled the central hall.

A crowd of people occupied both sides of the hall. The ones in the front, the clan elders and their most important descendants, sat while the less important descendants and the clan’s retainers stood behind them. A low murmuring filled the air, most of it filled with disapproval, punctuated by the occasional derisive laugh.

I never liked the main hall. To my eyes, it was always too big, too imposing. For me, it was a place of dread and pain. I had only been here a few times, but nothing good ever happened to me here. Each and every single time I had come here, something bad happened to me. Some of my most painful memories occurred right here, in this place.

Today, however, that would change. It had to. I would make sure of it. Today was the day I proved myself to my clan and showed them that I was worthy of being part of Clan Wind Dance’s main family, despite my tainted heritage. Today I would show them that I was worthy of learning our clan’s techniques, and finally step onto the path towards immortality.

Today I would prove that I was worthy. It was a lie, a false hope, but one that kept me going.

Yet, despite my resolve, I felt nervous. I stood alone, in the middle of the central hall, surrounded by a sea of hostile expressions. My heart beat in my chest like a drum, hammering against my ribs. My palms felt slick with sweat, making it more difficult to keep hold of the sword in my hands. I felt a lump in my throat, making it difficult to swallow. My skin tingled, sensitive to the slightest changes in my environment.

Part of it was the crowd. From the corners of my eyes, I saw the sneers they directed towards me. A few of them looked at me with outright hatred and disgust, not even bothering to conceal their feelings. The weight of all their gazes settled on my shoulders like a yoke; a familiar burden, yet familiarity didn’t make it any lighter.

The worst, however, came from the man located at the far end of the central room. He looked to be in his early thirties, though I knew he was much older than that. Like most members of Clan Wind Dance, he had pale skin and sky blue eyes. He wore his long blonde hair in a loose ponytail. His features were ethereal and delicate, just shy of feminine. He wore a set of blue and white robes trimmed with silver.

The man’s gaze contained the most hatred and was the heaviest to bear. However, he was also the one I needed to impress the most today. He would decide if I would become a cultivator and a true member of Clan Wind Dance, or if I would forever remain a pariah and an outcast.

Dominic Wind Dance, my paternal uncle and the acting head of Clan Wind Dance.

My uncle sat atop an ornate throne situated upon a raised dais. A woman, who also had long blonde hair and pale skin, sat on a throne next to his, though hers was smaller and less ornate.

Lucille Wind Dance, my uncle’s favorite wife. She came from a branch family of the clan, and my uncle married her to solidify his position. Despite being my kin, and my aunt by marriage, Lucille never treated me like family. In her eyes, I had never been more than an eyesore. However, unlike the rest of the clan, she treated me with indifference rather than contempt and hatred. I supposed that was an improvement.

Today, she looked down at me with both amusement and disgust in her sky blue eyes.

The murmuring from the crowd grew louder. Some of them pitched their voices to carry, yet pretended as if they were whispering to their neighbors.

“Look at him,” one said. “Are you sure he’s even a Wind Dance?”

“Must be the demon blood running through his veins,” another replied.

“What was Connor thinking, bring that filthy thing here?”

My cheeks flushed with anger and shame as I tried to ignore them. Despite my attempts, however, their words pierced my heart and dug in, like barbed hooks. I had heard these kinds of insults, and worse, all of my life. I should have been used to them by now, yet they always hurt.

Filthy. Ugly. Demonspawn.

Like my uncle and my aunt, everyone else in Clan Wind Dance had long blonde hair, pale skin, and delicate features. They were also tall, lithe, and lean. The cultivators of Clan Wind Dance were famous for their gracefulness and elegance; fitting for a clan that specialized in dancing and wielding the sword. I was the only exception, to the point that some even questioned if I was a Wind Dance at all. Sometimes, when I was at my lowest, I wondered the same thing.

My skin was dusky, similar to the natives of the deserts far to the south east of Mt. Wind Dance. My hair was a black so dark, it seemed to drink in the light. I also kept it short, since it grew too shaggy if I let it grow long. My features were sharper, harsher. I was also shorter than the rest of my kin, and bulkier. I wasn’t graceful and elegant.

According to the whispers I overheard, I looked like a brute and a thug. I dressed like one too. Instead of blue and white robes made from the finest silks, I wore brown robes made from cheap cotton. The only indication that I was a Wind Dance was my eyes. Like the rest of my kin, they were sky blue.

However, if that was all, my situation wouldn’t have been as bad as it was. I would have stood out amongst my lighter skinned kin as an oddity but nothing more. They wouldn’t have hated me as much as they did. I would have been an object of curiosity and not hatred.

No. The reason why they hated me and viewed me with such disgust was that I had the blood of demons running through my veins. Demons were wicked creatures who spread chaos and destruction wherever they went. They killed the innocent for sport, drank their blood, and consumed their souls. There was no crime they wouldn’t commit, there was no sin they wouldn’t indulge in, there was no line they wouldn’t cross.

The only good demon was a dead demon, or so I heard all my life. If my father, Connor Wind Dance, hadn’t claimed me as his son before he went into seclusion, my kin would have killed me a long time ago. However, that didn’t mean they accepted me as a member of the Clan Wind Dance, let alone the main family.

They treated me as lower than the least of Clan Wind Dance’s disciples. Even the servants despised me and looked down on me. After all, as a cultivator clan, even the servants of Clan Wind Dance were themselves cultivators. While they never disrespected me to my face, they avoided me as much as they could. After all, who would want to serve a demon? A monster that only knew how to kill?

If I had learned how to cultivate, perhaps things wouldn’t have been so bad. Cultivators respected the strong and looked down upon the weak. If I was a cultivator, if I was stronger, my kin would respect me. They would still hate me, there was no changing that, but they wouldn’t look down on me anymore.

However, when I reached the age of twelve and grew old enough to learn my clan’s cultivation techniques and martial arts, Clan Wind Dance’s elders rose up in protest. What if I succumbed to my demonic nature and used my clan’s techniques for evil? Not only would this damage Clan Wind Dance’s reputation, but it could lead the other clans and sects in the area to suspect that Clan Wind Dance practiced the demonic arts. This could very well lead to the clan’s destruction.

In response to the elders’ protests, my uncle decreed that I needed to prove my worth. I would always bear the taint of my blood, there was no changing that. I would always be viewed with suspicion, and teaching me would damage Clan Wind Dance’s reputation. However, if I proved myself in front of the whole clan that I had the talent to overcome this setback, that I would be an asset to the clan despite my heritage, only then could I learn my clan’s cultivation technique.

Once a year, on my birthday, I would have the chance to prove myself. If I showed that I had enough skill and talent, my uncle would allow me to learn Clan Wind Dance’s cultivation technique. Even if I failed, I could try again next year.

When I first heard this, I thought my uncle was being kind and merciful. Instead of denying me outright, he was giving me the chance to earn my place within the clan. However, as I grew older and I failed to gain my uncle’s approval year after year, I realized that he wasn’t kind or merciful.

This test of his was just a means to keep me suppressed. No matter how hard I tried, no matter how hard I worked to prove myself, it would never be enough. My uncle would never grant his approval. For the rest of the clan, it was a form of entertainment. They viewed my struggles, and failures, with amusement. My peers, who had long surpassed me, continued to rise while I struggled to take even the first step. It was a false hope, a light that would lead me nowhere.

Yet, I continued to struggle despite knowing that it was pointless, despite knowing that my uncle intended for me to never learn our clan’s cultivation. I persevered in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, my uncle would relent. I humiliated myself in front of my clan year after year on the slightest chance that they would come to accept me. It was futile, I knew that, yet I couldn’t give up. I refused to.

It wasn’t as if I could run away and join another clan or sect. Even if they accepted me, despite my impure blood, Clan Wind Dance would never allow it. They would brand me a traitor and hunt me down. So I endured it all and continued forward. It was either that, or fall into despair. This false hope was all I had. It was all that kept me going.

‘You can do this, Darian,’ a voice said in my head, interrupting my thoughts. ‘I believe in you.’

Pulling myself back to the present, I glanced towards the source of the voice; a young man off to the side, the person sitting closest to my uncle and my aunt. He was everything I was not. Like the rest of Clan Wind Dance, he had pale skin, blonde hair, and sky blue eyes. He was also devastatingly handsome, unlike me. Combined with his tall and lean build, he looked every inch the ideal scion of Clan Wind Dance.

Lucius Wind Dance, Dominic’s son with Lucille and my closest friend. While we were cousins, he was more like an older brother to me since he was twenty-six years old while I was just sixteen. He was also the only one in Clan Wind Dance who treated me with kindness, the only one who treated me like family. For that, I loved him above all others. However, I also hated him and resented the differences in how we were treated. We were both members of the main family, yet he was lavished with praise by our kin while they despised me.

It didn’t help that Lucius was a genius, both in cultivation and with the sword. He was the shining star of Clan Wind Dance, and I could never hope to match his brilliance, even if I were to spend the rest of my life trying. All I could ever do is gaze up at him in envy.

And I hated myself for how I felt. Lucius never mistreated me, not even once, yet I still dared to harbor ill will towards him. He didn’t deserve my hatred, and I didn’t deserve his kindness. However, I was too greedy to reject it. Like the false hope my uncle used to keep me in place, Lucius’ friendship kept me going.

Noticing my look, Lucius flashed me a smile of encouragement. Knowing that there was at least one person on my side dissipated some of my nervousness. I returned his smile with one of my own. Displeasure flashed across my uncle’s face. It was subtle, but I had learned long ago how to get a read on my uncle. After all, my future and my survival depended on it. He never approved of Lucius’ attitude towards me, but he hadn’t done anything about it. Yet.

Not wishing for that to change, I looked away from Lucius and focused on my uncle. He stared at me as I stood in the middle of the central hall, waiting for his signal. The noon sun bore down on me. Most would have found it uncomfortable. It was the beginning of summer, and temperatures were on the rise. The main building was enchanted to keep the cold out, but not the heat. It could grow quite hot in here. However, I always found the heat comforting. I assumed it had something to do with my demonic nature, though maybe I was just better suited for warmer climes.

“You may begin,” my uncle said, his voice deep despite his thin frame.

I nodded, before taking up the first stance of the Dancing Wind Blade fighting style.

While my uncled hadn’t allowed me to learn Clan Wind Dance’s cultivation technique, he let me learn the basics of our clan’s martial arts, the Dancing Wind Blade fighting style. It was a fighting style that focused on agility, movement, and precision. Practitioners moved about, avoiding their enemies’ blows while delivering critical strikes. As the name suggested, the foundation of the fighting style was a dance. Its practitioners looked beautiful even as they delivered death.

Of course, just because my uncle allowed me to learn the basics of the Dancing Wind Blade fighting style hadn’t meant anyone wanted to teach me. At first, I had to figure it out all by myself, learning from the tattered manual I managed to find. The results were…pitiful. I must have looked pathetic the first time I performed in front of the whole clan. My movements were awkward and sluggish, and I even tripped halfway through. I still remember the laughter and jeers from my kin as I ran from the central room in tears.

At least my friendship with Lucius came about as a result of this rather painful experience. My cousin took upon himself to teach me the Dancing Wind Blade fighting style, despite his own busy schedule. As the son of Clan Wind Dance’s acting head, Lucius had a lot of responsibilities, yet he always made time for me. Over time, we became quite close. However, there was only so much he could do.

One of the reasons why my uncle refused to let me learn Clan Wind Dance’s cultivation technique, other than his hatred of my heritage, was my lack of talent with the sword. I was mediocre at best. Even without my demonic nature, I would have brought shame to Clan Wind Dance. Thanks to Lucius’ tutelage, and my own stubbornness, I had reached an acceptable level of skill. It was average for Clan Wind Dance, and far below what was expected of a member of the main family, but it was better than nothing.

Maybe that would be enough to change my uncle’s mind.

I started performing the basic stances of the Dancing Wind Blade fighting style. Soon, I fell into a meditative trance and lost myself to the rhythm of the dance. Everything else faded away. The crowd of onlookers, my uncle, even my own nervousness. All that remained was the dance and the blade in my hands. While I lacked talent with the sword, my talent for dancing more than made up for it.

At first, my movements were slow as I focused more on precision rather than speed. However, as I transitioned from one stance to the next, I started speeding up. I moved faster and faster the further along I went. For me, this stopped being an exhibition of my martial arts skills and more a display of my dancing skills.

As I neared the end of the dance, I slowed down again. When I reached the final stance, I stopped and held it.

My blood felt like it was on fire, and sweat covered my body. Despite that, I didn’t feel winded. One benefit of practicing the basics of the Dancing Wind fighting style everyday for years was that I was in excellent physical condition, by mortal standards at least. I wasn’t anything special compared to cultivators.

Silence filled the central hall. Unlike with my previous performances, no one said anything. There were no whispers, no hurtful comments, no mocking laughter. It even felt as if the room itself held its breath, waiting for my uncle’s verdict. This silence gave me hope and filled me with elation.

While I would never be the best in Clan Wind Dance, I wouldn’t be the worst either. Had I performed well enough to change my uncle’s mind? Would he finally overlook my demonic nature and see me through new eyes? Or would he continue to use this as an excuse to suppress me?

I looked over at my uncle. My heart froze and the flickering flame of hope within me died when I saw the sneer on his face. It was the same one I saw every time I went through this, every time I performed in front of the clan to prove my worth and earn the right to practice cultivation.

I knew what he would say before he even opened his mouth.

“I’m disappointed in you, Darian,” my uncle said, his voice filled with false sorrow. “Once again, you failed to meet my expectations. I had high hopes for you this year, but it seems they were misplaced.”

The crowd started whispering at my uncle’s words. While I couldn’t make out what they were saying, I heard the disbelief in their voices.

“At this point, I wonder if I should continue with this farce,” my uncle said. “Or if I should stop wasting everyone’s time. It’s clear that no matter how hard you try, you will never prove yourself worthy of Clan Wind Dance.”

I stared at him, unable to respond. The chill in my heart spread across the rest of my body, until I felt numb all over. I knew this would happen, yet I still let myself think that maybe this time would be different. Hope only led to disappointment.

“Father!” Lucius cried out as he jumped to his feet. “What are you saying? Darian’s performance was magnificent.”

The crowd murmured in agreement, though they sounded reluctant to admit it. It seemed that I had done well enough to impress everyone else. However, it didn’t matter. The only person I had needed to impress was my uncle, and I had failed.

“Yes, it was,” my uncle said, sounding genuine. “It’s clear that Darian is a talented dancer.” He snorted. “However, his skill with the sword remains abysmal. That performance of his looked beautiful, but in an actual battle he would die within seconds. We are a clan of warriors, not just dancers. Even if his blood weren’t tainted, he would have brought shame to our clan. If he had been born into a branch family, this would not be the case. However, as members of the main family, we must hold ourselves to a higher standard.”

Funny. Most of the time, my uncle never acknowledged me as a member of Clan Wind Dance’s main family. However, when it came to suppressing me or mocking me, he did so without hesitation. It made me want to laugh, but I held it in. If I started laughing, I knew that I would end up crying and I refused to cry in public. It would only make things worse.

Lucius opened his mouth to say something else, but my uncle silenced him with a look. From the strain on my cousin’s face, it was clear that Dominic pressured Lucius with his intent as well. My cousin was a genius by cultivator standards, having reached the Foundation Establishment realm in half the time it took the average cultivator, but he was still no match for my uncle. Dominic was a Golden Core cultivator, putting him an entire large realm above Lucius. After several seconds, my cousin lowered his eyes.

“Now then,” my uncle said in a dismissive voice. “With that out of the way, I want everyone except for my son, my wife, and the clan elders to leave.” He looked me right in the eyes as he said this next sentence, a small smirk on his lips. “You are dismissed.”

Without a word, I turned around and marched out of the central hall and left the main building altogether. Unlike during the previous years, no insults or jeers followed me on my way out, only silence and discontented murmurings. Yet, I somehow found that even more painful.