Twinned Destinies: A Cultivation Progression Fantasy

After the fall of the Cult, splinter groups popped up in the Lower City. Some were like that brat Tai Kong’s, the Red Scarf Knights, a bunch of miscreant hooligan boys who got together, drank, trained Martial Arts, and nursed fantasies of overthrowing the world order.

Then there was the People’s Army, a more respectable effort in Ruyi’s humble opinion, and with a larger membership—a group of peaceful protesters who were fighting for seats on the Emperor’s council. The dukes each had a seat; the ministers and the eunuchs too, rounding out nearly a dozen. Why not the citizens of the Lower City?

The People’s Army had cross-realm support too. In the great cities of the Crimson River Delta, of the Dragonspire Province and the Phoenix Wing province, of Tiger’s Roar Valley and even the distant capital of the Frostbite Peaks—a city so high up it never snowed, since it sat above the clouds—peoples of the Lower Cities were organizing. They even got some peasants and townsfolk to join.

There was a rash of fiery young speakers drumming up heat, true, but there was also the writers. Those championing the common folk weren’t allowed in the respectable pages of The Post, but leaflets of some of the more incendiary writers were passed around more and more. Only about a third of the Lower City was literate, but building-neighborhoods often held gatherings where the best literate speaker would dramatically read out the latest weekly lashings, to the delight of the crowd.

An especially popular writer went by the name of ‘The Wailer.’ They loved mocking the Emperor and railed against nobility. Though astute readers would notice The Wailer seemed to play favorites. Though they despised the Princess Consort Chen Qin, they were always strangely complimentary of the Princess herself. And they had nothing but nice things to say about that Ruyi Yang; on occasion they would call for statues of her.

***

Sen was so happy she couldn’t keep from smiling, just a little. Today was the day she’d see Ruyi again. She’d asked what Ruyi wanted to do; Ruyi had written fishing and a picnic.

So Sen had spent the week before readying tack, reading up on the best fishing spots, making sandwiches, getting baskets and suncreams and a picnic blanket—she’d rented a rowboat from an old fisherman. She’d had a half-day trip all planned out. She couldn’t wait.

She even dressed up. She went out and bought a big straw hat.

As it turned out, this was all a ruse.

When Ruyi opened the door she was so drunk she was propping herself up by the doorknob.

“Hi,” said Sen. “Do you—”

It was all she got before Ruyi descended upon her.

Sen broke free for just a moment, gasping. “But… I made sandwiches…” she said feebly.

“Shhhh,” said Ruyi. Then she dragged Sen under again.

They didn’t spend the day fishing.

***

Ruyi was so happy she couldn’t keep from smiling a big dumb smile. She lay there, covers half-drawn over her, snuggling up to a panting Sen. This was perfect. Everything was perfect. She wished she could stay here forever.

“I missed you,” murmured Ruyi, nuzzling her neck. Ruyi loved her neck. She loved every part of her body.

They lay there for a while in the darkness. She could hear Sen struggling to catch her breath.

She felt Sen swallow. “Rue?”

“Mm?”

She could feel Sen’s heart beating faster in her chest.

“Are you my friend?”

“Of course, dummy,” said Ruyi, still dreamy.

“Would…” Sen stopped.

“What?” said Ruyi, giggling.

Sen got it out in a rush. “Would you still be my friend if you weren’t my girlfriend?”

It took a second for Ruyi to hear the words. She couldn’t seem to understand them. She blinked up at Sen, saw the line of the girl’s jaw traced in darkness.

“What are you saying?” she croaked.

“You don’t want to go fishing with me. You never want to go fishing with me.”

“I’ll go fishing with you,” said Ruyi, seizing her hands. “We’ll go tomorrow—promise!”

“It’s not about the fishing.”

In the silence they could hear each other’s breaths. Ruyi’s slow and strangled, Sen’s fast, almost scared.

“Rue?” said Sen.

Ruyi settled her head back on Sen’s chest. She closed her eyes. “You can leave me later if you want,” Ruyi said, voice shaky. “Let me be right now. I was so happy.”

“I don’t want to leave you,” said Sen quickly. “That’s the last thing I want. I still want to be your friend. I do. Just… maybe not…”

Silence.

“I don’t want to lose you either.”

Silence.

“You keep telling me to, um, express my feelings.” Sen was so close Ruyi could feel her starting to panic, physically. “So I’m trying to do that. I feel like you keep running over me. And when we talk you’re not really listening. I feel like you treat me like your pet sometimes. And when I’m with you sometimes I get so scared I’ll say something wrong, and mess it up, and you’ll never talk to me again. I don’t feel like that’s what love should feel like. This past month when we were apart I had some time to think, and—”

“Sen?” Ruyi said, so coldly calm she hardly recognized her own voice.

“Yes?”

“Get out.”

***

Ruyi woke up to the shrill chittering of birds. She cracked open an eye, and a shaft of sunlight pierced her skull. She groaned, rolling over. Her head felt like one big throbbing open wound.

Where was she? It took her a few blinks to place herself. Meadow, swaying grasses, a grove of birches fanning out protectively around her… it was one of her favorite crying spots. Particularly good for late nights when it got so dark the darkness felt like a physical thing, something you could drown in. Here, no one could hear you cry.

At home Mother would hear her, come and try to comfort her, which would make things worse. Ruyi didn’t want to be comforted, she wanted to be miserable.

When she eventually bumbled her way back to the manor, she found a letter from Sen waiting for her. It was mostly pleas and apologies. She tore it up.

Over a lunch—pig stew for Mother, bone marrow for her—she announced she was going to become a nun and be celibate for the rest of her life.“This is about Sen, isn’t it?” sighed Mother.

Ruyi said nothing.

“Whatever she did, she seems very sorry. She wrote me a letter… may I ask what happened?”

“She left me. That’s all there is to know,” said Ruyi. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

***

She got a letter from Jin a few days later. He wrote one every few weeks. They were several thoughtful pages of neat script detailing his life at the Temple. He’d insisted he not be treated differently from any other Temple initiate; his first year there he’d carried water pails up the mountain every night, just like every other novice. He was having a great time learning new spear Techniques, swimming in hot springs and eating in open-air mess halls with his new monk friends.

Every week he seemed to make a new friend. Everyone liked being around Jin. He never made anyone feel bad about themselves, not Jin. Jin was a good person, and people liked being around a person like that. He probably had ten girlfriends and they all loved being around him.

The worst thing was she had a feeling Sen was right. Maybe Ruyi was just a bad person, maybe that was why no-one liked her, maybe that was why everyone kept leaving her. Even Sen, who could’ve been a saint, couldn’t stand her—what did that say about her? She figured she should write a letter and apologize or something. That seemed the mature thing to do. Instead she sat here in the flower garden, stared down the night sky, and drank.

When she first saw it, she thought it was a hallucination. A shooting star, but bright red as a demon’s eye—it really did seem a demon’s eye; when she stared at it it seemed to stare back at her. It was streaking fast. In just a few breaths it’d made it halfway across the sky, trailing a cloud of red dust.

When she squinted she saw the red dust was eyes too. Each a little winking red eye making lines across the sky, going in all directions. Clumps were going Northeast to Dragonspire, west to the Frostbite Peaks, due North to the Great Lakes and the Crimson River Delta.

More chunks kept breaking off as the star flew.

She giggled at it. It felt like she was sunbathing; she could feel the heat of it on her face, but not like sunlight. This was a heat which warmed her beneath the skin, where her blood was.

“Rue?”

Mother’s voice, far behind, footsteps drawing closer.

“There you are! Thank Heavens.”

“Look, Mother.” Ruyi pointed. “Make a wish.”

Strong arms took her, yanked her up from her seat; she yelped. “Hey!”

“Get inside,” said Mother. “Now!”