[M] The Peacock Flies Home

[Tolvo]

1 AD, August 1st

Junks were as far as the eye could see. Small bridges connected to the port that led to small island shrines to the dragons. Not lost to Jianyu among them was a lone shrine to the Burning Spirits. Meant for travelers visiting Hexin, the Peacock found himself meditating on green grass among bright and vividly pink hydrangea flowers. The shrine itself was small with multiple layers making it resemble a tiny tower with carvings in the stone of the Burning Islands language Murokura, the Western variety. After his work had finished a wave pulsed out from the island and among the ships spawned from another realm the Burning Spirits and Shades. They wandered in between vessels taking in the are while workers looked on in awe. Jianyu gave a single burning feather to a harbormaster who took it and put it in a small box, bowed, then left Jianyu alone.

A figure in golden silk robes was flanked by guards carrying armor and banners depicting the koi fish. Those following the Emperor stayed behind on the other side of the bridge. When Guanyu walked he had a cane to help him. Standing back with the guards was a wavebringer, likely to help tend to any problems the Emperor had. He was quiet and watched Jianyu at first before approaching. His robes whipped up a bit from a powerful gust of wind but it settled down soon after.

Cranes continued to operate and carry goods between ships. They were large hulking things each carrying dozens of people. In the background was the lively port and city. Long warehouses and tall buildings and houses outside of the city walls. Rooftops crested over the walls and birds flew about in arrowhead formations in the cloudy skies. Waiting above the water outside the shrine was the dragon sage who had carried Jianyu all this way. He hovered with iguana scale robes that dragged across the water surface.

[Minkasha]

Humility in one’s own wisdom. Jianyu teetered from the ledge, clandestine from himself the suicidal road he had paved for his people. Was blood on his hands? Was it his great standing against the agency of death’s hand which spiraled things to the threat of defeat? Yes. A cut smart through Jianyu’s spirit. One that when it sped from his body, took his voice. His travels thus far had been shortened word, nights he drifted his thoughts to the void. In nothing he let inspiration gush, seeping up out from the cracks of distress and shame.

His Fatal Grace had lived for a very long time, and it was first for him to be in awe of his éclat’s natural affinity for self-destruction. A grim marvel was his ability to provoke instability to the Five Kingdoms. Hushed. He had to be, then the Burning Spirits appeared in his mind. Humility in one’s own wisdom. The kami buried in his breast cradled knowledge of the ages if he could perceive it. Quiet. Jianyu didn’t enjoy this journey. The moons passed by and he could feel in his bones the coming fall from grace. Soon his body would weaken, brittle little by little. The pains of age would remind him the value of life he cherished so much in himself and the living within the Ryudeshi Empire.

Young Guanyu’s steps were labored, loud, disturbing his peace. Yet like Jianyu’s path to loss at Deathborne forces, Guanyu’s arrival was provoked by his own actions. He summoned the changes he fought. His Fatal Grace conjured his own conflicts. The silver guan dao lay neatly at Jianyu’s side, resting on bedding of grass. The Greatest of Nan rose from bent knees and stood, not turning to meet the brought Emperor. Melodically, for the eyes, white sparks of his evolved spirit danced and faded.

“You walk with crooked steps. How is it you view our world now that you leave crippled prints behind you?” Jianyu slowly turned, red eyes falling on the mortal man and seeing him with a frown. “What has pain done to your vision?” Intentionally Jianyu interlocked his hands, moving into a position of comfort. He swallowed. He hadn’t asked so many questions outwardly since his travel back. Hearing the inflections of language made him feel uncertain. Asking what he did not know. New places. New history with the Deathborne, thus new ways which people would change and become old. It was the first time Jianyu asked Guanyu anything without the hidden merit of an answer already readied between the lines.