Dark Star: The Lowly Guardian |ONC 2023|

It Would Be Fate

Zhenxing woke to the gentle drum of rain on the lily pond. When he cracked his bleary eyes open, he found a silvery barrier above him, protecting him from any wayward drops that managed to leak through the gazebo's roof. Delicate shapes of plum blossom and haitang flowers glimmered within the barrier

He never would have guessed demonic cultivation would be so lovely.

Drowsy still, Zhenxing continued to lay on the divan, content to be lazy for the moment. It wasn't until he rolled to his side that he realized something had changed.

Astonished, Zhenxing sat bolt upright, snapping his fingers. Fire flared in his palm, spiritual power flowing smoothly down his arm to sustain the flame. With a shaky breath, he made a sword seal, shocked by joy when Yueguang heeded his call without so much as a twitch, whirling through the air in an elaborate sword-form.

He called it back to its scabbard. Biting his lip, Zhenxing stood. Energy fluttered and quivered in his chest, making him feel light as a feather. No hunger pangs gripped his stomach. No thirst scratched the back of his throat. The wounds on his body were healed and gone.

It had been so long, Zhenxing had forgotten how free he was from mortal constraints when his cultivation was at its true level.

His qi flowed freely alongside his blood, unfettered, unstoppered. The blocks placed on him by the Dragon Immortal had all been cleared away.

Tentatively, he held out a hand. Xintong?

A shudder rippled through his meridians, sweat gathering on his brow as they strained. But, a green glow grew in his palm, writhing and condensing until he held the handle of a whip braided from thorny vines. He let out an unsteady breath, releasing the spiritual weapon as pain like over-exerted muscles began to prick along his meridians.

Tears sprang to his eyes all the same. His knees shook and he sat back down, staring blindly out at the courtyard garden. It had been so long since he'd held Xintong—a holy weapon gifted by Bai Hu, the White Tiger of the West. His heart had ached over its absence, at his lack of ability to call it forward.

Holding it again had been like embracing a long-lost friend, and he could now once more feel its presence curled up alongside Yueguang's spiritual power. The sword shook in its scabbard, overjoyed by the return of its brother.

Fighting tears, he flopped back down on the divan, just to have the life scared out of him when something was knocked aside and crashed to the ground. Pupils shrinking, he peered cautiously over the edge of the divan, hoping he hadn't broken something of Lixin's.

However, all he found was a plain box. Curious, he reached down and lifted the box, placing it on his lap. Slowly, he slid open the top, a lump growing in his throat when he found his robes, folded and pristine, wrapped in layers of rice paper.

Remembering what Lixin had told him about no one daring to enter the courtyard, Zhenxing hurriedly stripped out of his borrowed clothes. He only paused when he unfolded the golden inner robe and a sheaf of paper fluttered free. Snatching it out of the wind, he found a note written in bold calligraphy.

The servants will draw you a bath if you go inside. Please make yourself at home if you wish to stay. I apologize for abandoning Daozhang so suddenly, but there is some business requiring this Highness's attention in the Demon Realm.

If Daozhang decides to leave before I return, do not feel you lack courtesy.

Fate crossed our paths once. If we are fated, we will meet again.

A bemused smile crossed his lips, complicated feelings welling in his chest. To think, he had been planning to abandon Lixin as soon as his robes were returned, but didn't get the chance before Lixin abandoned him. A strange, forlorn sensation settled in his heart at that thought.

He snorted when he read the last of the note.

I trust Daozhang will feel much better, regardless if he decides to stay or go. Though he should be careful not to strain his delicate meridians too soon.

The sneaky demon had unblocked his qi points while he'd been incapacitated. 

A mysterious blush heated Zhenxing's neck as he imagined the prince examining his meridians, his spiritual core. A chill ran over his scalp and down his spine as he imagined the demon tracing the path of those blocked, damaged meridians, pale, elegant fingers sliding over scarred skin.

He glanced down at his half-naked reflection in the lotus pool. The scars were deathly white against his pale complexion, brutal and likely hideous to everyone else. For the first time since he'd sustained them, Zhenxing felt somehow upset that he had been so viciously marked.

With an irritated chuff, he threw the inner robe on before picking up the box containing the rest of his clothes. He went into the mansion, in search of a hot bath.

                                                                                ~*~*~*~

Zhenxing tapped his fingers restlessly against Yueguang's scabbard as he stared blankly across the courtyard. Red haitang petals drifted down around him from the tree he stood under, catching in his hair.

He had lingered in the bath for over an hour, even going so far as washing his hair and letting it dry naturally before brushing it to silky smoothness and pinning it back up with the plum blossom hairpiece. The sun was high in the sky by the time he was fully dressed.

He reached into his robes, pulling the note free and reading it again.

If we are fated, we will meet again.

The words struck an unruly chord inside of him. They matched too closely with something Hu Ye had once told him, in response to Zhenxing asking why the Tiger Immortal had chosen him out of everyone in the Four Realms to act as his attendant.

Hu Ye had smiled, hands clasped behind his back as they walked through a forest, a seventeen year old Zhenxing at his side.

"All the meetings and partings of this world are already decided, Xing-er," Hu Ye had said, his low voice pleasant to the ear. "I was fated to find this strange attendant, just as you were fated to find that cub. Our meeting was fated. And our parting, if we are parted, will be fated as well."

Zhenxing had nodded and quickly changed the subject, the mention of parting sending a jolt of panic through his body.

He crumpled the note in his palm, meaning to chuck it into the koi pond. Instead, he wound up sliding it back into his robes before turning and leaving the courtyard. As he passed through the mansion, several servants stopped him, inquiring if he needed anything, if they could fetch him something, if they could make him more comfortable.

Zhenxing just politely shook his head and continued through the richly decorated halls.

The guards exchanged unhappy glances when he asked them to open the gates, but they did without argument. Zhenxing admittedly hesitated a moment too long before he stepped past the front gate and onto a long, winding road.

One of the guards handed him a heavy purse, insisting against his objections, then pointed toward lights gleaming in the distance. "His Highness instructed us to tell you that path will return you to Ghost City, while the opposite way will take you to the Mortal Realm. As His Highness did not know whether Daozhang had finished his business in Ghost City, His Highness would like to remind Daozhang not to make any deals, and instead to pay for any goods Daozhang wishes to purchase with this small gift."

Small gift, his ass. The purse obviously contained a hefty sum, but when he tried to return it, the guards simply bowed and closed the gates.

Frustrated by this turn of events, he tucked the purse into his belt and stepped onto the road. He briefly played with the idea of flying on his sword back to Ghost City, but didn't want to overtax his meridians just yet. After the initial shock of his first visit to Ghost City had worn off, he'd remembered something important, and his spiritual power being as high as possible was a must.

So, walking it was.

He continued to peek over his shoulder at the prince's mansion until it disappeared in the distance.

Zhenxing heaved a deep sigh, hoping that they would indeed be fated to meet again.

Word Count: 1388

Total: 16,413