Under One Sky

Winds of Time

It was a sunny day in the city of Kai, where golden beams of heat rained down on roads and wooden buildings of varying sizes from a cloudless sky. The people underneath the sun numbered in the millions, and many were sweaty as they went about their day, working or travelling or idling the time away in a game of Go. Some of them even hated the climate so much that they sought refuge in Ce Lu Fan, a popular bar in the center of town.

The bar had four storeys and was built like a royal palace. It was oft mistaken for a casino or luxury hotel by newcomers who hadn't heard of Yao Xi, the bar owner and a member of a sect of religious men who prized alcohol as a divine drink that brought mortals to a state of wisdom so great that their minds could not contain it, which resulted in a tired mind and drunkenness. Their belief was that, through prayer and daily drinking, they would reach the knowledge of Heaven.

Two golden doors opened up into a massive drinking hall set ablaze with the light of many candles on chandeliers bought from Western traders. It was this hall Wei Ren entered, dressed in a plain jacket of white and black pants, and escorted to an empty table by a waitor in priestly attire. Ren noticed he was a man of the alcoholic zealots.

"What drink do you desire?" the Zealot said, sporting a saintly smile.

"The Golden Blood," Ren replied.

The Zealot nodded. "You are an honoured guest. Only the bravest ones drink that particular one."

"You compliment me too much."

"No, no." The Zealot waved his hand and left to do his work.

When he came back, he brought an ornate cup and a sparkly bottle of diamond designed to look like a dragon's head at the neck, so that when one poured out the alcohol it would look as though the dragon spewed it. The Zealot pulled the stopper at the top and tilted the bottle into the cup, filling it to the brim with a substance of pure gold.

This was the Golden Blood, one of the drinks that made the bar famous as it could knock out the average patron in two shots and leave them asleep for twelve hours. Only madmen or especially devout zealots drank of it, but Ren knew that he was neither. He was special.

With some thanks to the waitor who left again, Ren took the cup in hand and downed it in a single gulp. It felt like a flame erupted in his gut, except there was no pain. Then he refilled the cup and emptied it; same result. Wei Ren continued until the diamond bottle was empty. All he felt was a burning sensation in his fingers, in his head, in his entire bloodstream — and it felt good. Only, he couldn't think very straight.

Wei Ren got up, paid the waitor, and walked unsteadily away. He left through the dazzling gates and into the hot sun, sauntering through crowds of citywalkers and horse-drawn carriages, until he was alone in an alley shaded by two houses. There he knew no one could see him.

"Winds of Time," he said aloud. "Carry me to the Empire of Rome, nineteen centuries behind this land."

The world flashed white for a moment and Ren saw nothing but himself, floating still in empty space. When his feet hit solid ground and colour returned to the surroundings, he was in a grassy landscape where the plants were yellow and weak. It was autumn. He scanned the horizon — a city could be seen in the distance. The capital of Rome.

Wei Ren liked visiting Rome, but he enjoyed it more as an ancient empire than an Italian city, and the power of time travel gave him an opportunity that no other person had. At least not a person that he knew of.

After a short walk, he found a common road leading to the imperial city. There he joined a menagerie of travellers who represented the diversity of the earth. There were men from China with earthen wares, Ethiopian soldiers escorting a priest on chariot, and others that Ren could only guess the origins of. He liked seeing so many different cultures in one place.

But such a combination does not always remain peaceful.

A pained wail came from behind Wei Ren. He turned to look and saw a man in Greek armour stamping down the head of a woman laying on her stomach. Dust flew when her face hit the ground and she continued to cry. Ren broke out into a run towards her.

"Life's too good for you," shouted the armoured assailant, a bloodshot glare in his eyes. "You northern barbarians killed my father. And you burned my wife!" He grabbed the woman's hair and yanked her back. "How will you pay? For you shall pay, yes, YOU SHALL!"

The man unsheathed a dagger from his hip and made as to strike the lady, when a flying rock struck his nose and cut it open. "ARGH!" the man roared, clasping a free hand to his bleeding nose. He looked to see who threw the rock; a man in a white jacket was sprinting and very close.

The armoured man stepped aside from the woman and charged at this newcomer. Entering spearing range, he moved his weapon like a snake and —

And he fell to his knees and dropped his spear. He didn't know what happened but a sharp blow of the other man's fist hit his stomach and sent a shock through all his nerves.

Wei Ren was more than just a time traveller. He was drunk, but that didn't mean anything for him.

"Who ... What manner of ..." the kneeling soldier trailed off. He couldn't make out what just happened.

Ren smiled. "Nevermind." And he kicked the side of the man's head, sending out a resounding clang and reshaping the helmet so it crushed the man's skull, instantly killing him.

"Sorry for the bloody view," he said, turning to the woman on the ground and helping her up. "Where do you want to go?"

"My homeland," she said in a hoarse whisper. "The town of Skeifr."

"Alright," Wei Ren said. "Winds of Time ..."