Twinned Destinies: A Cultivation Progression Fantasy

They arrived in the Lower City late in the darkening evening.

The main street looked like a battlefield. The charming little shops had closed up early and wedged boards over their windows. The grounds were worse than she remembered—rucked-up debris was sprinkled up and down the roads along with fresh craters, some still smoking. Half the lanterns on the string had been shot out, casting the street in islands of flickering light.

“There was a protest,” explained Jin. “Cultists clashed with soldiers. It got messy. “

She’d been wondering why spearmen in Imperial gold robes were milling about, glaring at all who passed.

“A riot, you mean?”

“No,” said Jin. “I mean a protest. Another reason why I wasn’t keen on letting you come. Things have been… spiraling.”

“Why now? Did something happen?”

“The cult’s numbers have been swelling. But I hear whispers of something planned—some kind of party? Or ritual? I’m not sure. It’s got them riled up, though.” Jin shook his head at the mess. “I just wish I could do something. But no one listens to me. Not in the Upper City, and I wouldn’t presume to thrust myself into the center of Lower City politics, not when I don’t even live here. I wish… I don’t know.”

Idly he kicked a chunk of burnt debris and earned a glare from a passing guard for it. He glared back.

“You’re the Hero, aren’t you? Isn’t thrusting yourself into things and saving the day kind of your job?” said Ruyi, a touch sarcastic.

“I wish Bethsheda never spoke that damned prophecy.”

“Uh-huh. The Prophecy that made you a winner from birth.” If Ruyi had some old hag 1,000 years ago telling her she was fated to save the world, she’d wake up smiling every day. Instead she woke up mildly cranky. The actual hero lived down the hall, close enough to touch.

“The Prophecy that tells me who I must be,” said Jin. “There’s a difference.”

“Who wouldn’t want to be you?” When Ruyi was seven, every night before she slept she’d pray to the Heavens that she and Jin would switch bodies. It was stupid and spiteful; she saw that now. But there was more of that angry seven-year-old in her than she liked to admit.

Jin shook his head. “I… never mind.”

They came up upon a hut at the end of the street. A wooden signpost, wearied by age but sturdy, read, “Happy Cookie Bakery.”

Jin spoke up suddenly and with surprising bitterness. “You’d be surprised how little they let me do. They listen when I speak of fighting demons. But when I speak on helping our own they have no interest. I’m the Hero—good for one thing only.”

“I am going to punch you in the face if I hear you complain one more time about being the literal Hero of Prophecy,” said Ruyi, and she meant it.

Jin winced. “Sorry.”

***

Mei-ling opened the door and smiled bright when she saw Jin. Her smile wobbled when she saw Ruyi behind him.

“You’ve met my sister,” said Jin nervously. ‘Met’ was rich—‘been accosted by,’ more like. But Mei-ling simply nodded, her smile firming up. Like there was nothing she wished more in the world than to have Ruyi here. She was good, this one.

“Please. Come in.”

‘In’ was a humble café that was round all over—round were the squat little stools, the squat little tables, the long counter, the lanterns hung from the ceiling which looked like bubbles. There wasn’t a sharp edge in the whole place.

While Jin got himself ready upstairs—lathered himself with gauzes and oils, wrapped his hands, that sort of thing—Mei-ling brought her a tray with tea and an egg tart.

“No thanks,” said Ruyi, even though she was starving.

“Oh,” said Mei-ling. “I thought egg tarts were your favorite. Would you prefer something else?”

“How did you know that?” Ruyi’s eyes narrowed. Was she a spy, perhaps? An undercover agent who’d interrogated the Yang family servants?

“I asked Jin,” said Mei-ling, which hadn’t even crossed her mind. “I made a batch in case you decided to visit.”

“Are you trying to bribe me?”

Mei-ling’s smile was strained. “I just thought it would be nice if we were to get along.”

“Hmm.” Ruyi squinted at the tart.

“I promise I haven’t poisoned it.”

“I wasn’t thinking that,” said Ruyi. In fact that had been exactly what she was thinking. Then she realized Mei-ling had meant it as a joke.

Gao’s words floated back into her head. Maybe she could do with being a little more ‘open.’

Eyeing Mei-ling, making sure she didn’t try anything funny, Ruyi made a grab for the egg tart. Still staring at her, Ruyi took a bite.

Flaky crust gave way to an explosion of gooey sweetness. She took another bite, and another. If it was poisoned it was the most delicious poison she’d ever tasted. She might have moaned a little.

“How is it?” said Mei-ling.

“It’s passable, I guess,” sniffed Ruyi.

“Oh, good.”

Ruyi’s traitorous stomach took that moment to growl. Loudly.

“I have some more, if you’d like?” said Mei-ling. She looked like she was trying not to smile. She was mocking her!

“I will not be bribed!”

“Hmm…What if it isn’t a bribe? What if it’s a gift from someone who cares for your brother and wishes the best for him, just as you do?”

Mei-ling smiled as she passed over a basket full of tarts—right under the counter, like she’d snuck them there beforehand. She was good, this one.

There was a breath or so as Ruyi resisted. And then a breeze swept into the room, filled her nose with that earthy scent. Ruyi prided herself on her immense willpower, but she was only human.

“Yes, please,” moaned Ruyi. “I’m starving!”

***

“And then he started pissing himself!” cackled Ruyi.

“Did you really?” said Mei.

“In my defense I’d just drunk a jug of water and this little demon started jumping on my belly,” said Jin, strapping on his gloves. “And I was five! This is ridiculous. I’ve got to go do check-ins.”

He pecked Mei on the lips, grabbed her by the shoulders, and said intently, “Do not listen to a single word my sister says. She’s cracked in the head.”

“What other embarrassing things has he done?” mused Ruyi. “Oh—he used to go to sleep with this lame little doll he called his guardian angel—Theora, was it? I swear he still keeps it on his desk—”

“It’s Fiora, and she is cool, I’ll have you know! I can’t keep listening to this nonsense. I’ll see you at the fight.” Jin fake-stormed out the bakery.

“Oh, me…” said Ruyi, wiping away a tear.

***

After Ruyi had plumbed the depths of her memories, Mei-ling took her upstairs. Past her personal quarters, up a ladder to emerge atop the roof.

Vines snaked across half a dozen racks, dangling bushels of fat juicy grapes. A giant wooden press stood in a corner, pressed up against the railings.

“You make your own wines?” gasped Ruyi.

“I have a few barrels fermenting in the cellar.”

How had her dolt of a brother managed to convince someone this cool to be with him? It boggled the mind.

“Can I try some?”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea…”

“Ooh! And what are these?”

She’d happened upon a clump of mushrooms at the garden’s far end.

“Just some treats I make from time to time.”

“Aren’t these Nightcrawlers? They’re meant to be banned, aren’t they? You’ve been a bad girl,” tsked Ruyi.

Mei tensed; her face went blank. Then she chuckled. “Oh, you would know, being the Alchemist. You’ve caught me.”

“Let me try this one, at least?”

“…I suppose it should wear off before the fight starts. Perhaps you can have a quarter portion? They’re quite potent—”

“Pshh!” said Ruyi, and swallowed one whole.

***

“Please don’t ever leave him,” sniveled Ruyi, curled up on the couch. Mei rocked her head in her lap, like a baby. “Shh,” she said. “Shh…”

“I kn-know he’s a little rough around the edges, but he’s a good boy, he really is!”

“I know,” sighed Mei, stroking her hair. “Oh, dear.”

“You pr-pr-promise?” sniffled Ruyi.

“I promise…”

“And—and when you said I could come by anytime for egg tarts, did you really mean that?”

“Anytime you like,” said Mei softly.

***

Mei-Mei pulled out a mask and the thickest robes in her wardrobe, and told Ruyi to put them on.

Mei-Mei made a disgusted noise. “It’s the biggest size I have. It’ll have to do.” It was still a little tight, especially around the chest.

“Is this really necessary?” she said after stumbling over her robes a second time.

“We’ll find ourselves in quite a bit of trouble if you don’t.”

“Why aren’t you in them?”

“Because you look like you, and I look like me,” sighed Mei-Mei. “We are not dealing with mannered men. Now, shush.”

***

They maneuvered through a maze of back alleys. The density of mold, litter, and bald men smoking grew higher and higher. They stopped at an alley crowded with bald men smoking so grimy you could hardly see the cobbles.

Mei nodded at a few of them and strolled on through as calm as if she were she strolling through her bakery. Ruyi stumbled after, clutching at her arm.

They made it all the way to the door without being murdered or robbed, to Ruyi’s surprise.

Then there was the doorman. One great lunk of spotted pale flesh, his bald head bursting with veins.

Mei swore.

“What?” said Ruyi.

“The doorman—it’s Vu today. He’s… handsy, and stupid. Head down and stay quiet, alright?”

They marched to the door.

“Mei,” he grunted.

“Vu,” she said.

She passed without incident but when Ruyi tried to follow— “Ah-ah!” Vu held out a log of an arm. “Who’s this?”

“She’s with me,” said Mei. Calmly, but there was iron in it.

“Not so fast.”

Up close, he smelled horrific. His breath as he leaned in smelled even worse, like rotten fish. “What pretty eyes you have, girlie,” he whispered. His voice was pitched high, like a little girl’s—it was weird to hear out of such a big body. “Is the rest of you just as pretty?”

If this cretin tried anything funny, she’d make sure he never walked straight again.

“Vu,” called Mei, a warning.

“All I want’s a look! Just a look…” She took in his pockmarked face, is oily grin, his watery droopy eyes. He reached out a hand. She kicked him between the legs.

In her head this dropped him, sent writhing and howling. Instead he frowned, like he’d felt an unwanted tickle.

“Um,” she squeaked.

Then he had her by the wrist—Hell his grip was strong!—she wrenched at it, but it was like her wrist was cast in iron.

“Let go of me, you!—” A fist closed around her throat. She thrashed; she spat; she bit. How dare this—this!— His grip tightened, and tightened and tightened more until the bones in her wrist scraped painfully together. She gasped.

She had mimed some self-defense moves against a tree stump—basics she’d seen Jin do. They were listed in such simple steps. First twist the wrist, then turn him over, then knee him in the back—

She forgot everything. All she could do was flail, panic rising in her chest, choking her, trying to get him off her, but he wouldn’t move—

Dimly she was aware of Mei shouting something, saw her face swimming in the background but chuckling men moved in and she was lost.

“Shhh,” said Vu. “Calm, girlie, calm…”

Then Vu’s grip cinced around her neck like a vice, and she held very still.

There was so much pressure it felt like her head might pop off her shoulders.

She couldn’t breathe. Tears welled in her eyes; darkness spotted her vision. She realized with a shock that while she was fighting for her life he was bored. He was satisfying an idle curiosity—this was routine to him, almost nothing.

She thought understood how much stronger cultivators were. But she hadn’t really.

She couldn’t stop him as one hand let go of her wrist, closed around her face. Didn’t even try to stop him; she was scared what might happen if she did. She could only whimper. Her mask came off, and Vu sucked in a breath. “Heavens,” he muttered. “Isn’t that something? Hey Po! Get a look at this one.“

She felt his fingers on her cheeks— “Po?” She was on the ground, her face pressed against the cold muck. Gasping, coughing, she wobbled to her feet.

It took a breath before her vision cleared and she saw slumped bodies dotting the alley. Including Vu’s. The rest of the bald men had edged away, frightened.

A hand helped her up. Mei’s. It was bloody. She said something.

“Huh?” croaked Ruyi. Why was Mei’s hand shaking? Then she realized it was her who was shaking.

Her whole body, down through the heart, and she couldn’t stop. Her throat was scraped raw, the skin around her wrist swaddled in deep purple bruises.

“You’re safe now,” said Mei softly, and held her up, and all she could think was how easy it would be for Mei to break her in two. Like snapping a twig. She wiped at Ruyi’s face, and Ruyi realized she was crying. Angrily, she made herself stop.

“I’m fine,” she gasped, forcing herself to stand, shrugging Mei off, burning with shame.

“Are you sure—”

“I’m FINE!”

“Let’s go back,” whispered Mei. “I’ll make you some tea.”

“No.”

“I don’t think—”

“We are getting what I need, now,” she snarled. Every muscle in her body, every frail little muscle, was tense. Mei searched her eyes. She must’ve seen how serious, how furious Ruyi was, since she said, “Alright. Keep tight to me, okay?”

Before they went in, she gave Vu’s slumped body a swift kick. It probably hurt her foot more than his head.