Beware Of Chicken

It even had its own weather system; one of heavy fogs in the morning and light rains, followed by pure skies. It was a world contained within walls. It was, to most, a spectacular, confusing, and alien environment.

To Ulagan Tarkhan, known to those outside his home as Guo Daxian the Younger, it was simply home. Altan, his legendary ancestor, had started the tradition when interacting with the Imperials. And thus, every member of their sect bore a fake name when traversing the lands outside their home.

Tarkhan shot through the trees with practiced ease, his Olsokh Ir, ascending blade, thudding into tree trunks and allowing him to swing from them. The rope attached to the blade was made by his own hand, as was tradition. His ancestors and his people had used the blades since time immemorial to traverse the ravine.

The movement within his home was so rote to him he could allow his mind to wander. He was allowed to take in the colourful cloth that denoted directions, marveling at the beauty of his home. He nodded idly to a set of mortals as they used their own blades to hook onto a tree and clamber across a gap.

He was close to home when he stopped by a waterfall pouring out of the side of the ravine, entering it to wash off the bits of blood and sweat that still clung to him from his mission.

The water came from pure springs deep within the earth, and even after traveling throughout the south of the Azure Hills, he had tasted nothing as pure and sweet as the water of his home.

He shook out his bandanna and once more ascended to the trees, leaping towards the Sect. The air would dry him on the way back and he would look presentable.

The last leg of the journey took him through a winding part of the ravine; it was nearly completely shrouded with trees and he had to press himself through tiny gaps in the stone. He absently noted the choke points and hidden guards, who knew his Qi well. An intruder would have been dead long before they got here.

At last, Tarkhan broke through the claustrophobic tunnel and emerged into a sinkhole filled with light and greenery. To most, it would not look dissimilar to the houses the mortals would have used, albeit bigger. But this was the true compound of the Grand Ravine Sect; not the place for show higher up in the ravine.

He idly noted the servants and the Sect members tending to the fields and beating reeds into fiber for rope.

With one last swing, he landed outside his home—and the person who was awaiting him there.

“You’re nearly late,” his mother said reproachfully. She had on her dress, which was shorter than an Imperial’s, revealing sturdy boots. It was red emblazoned with patterns in blues and yellows, and on her head was a fur-lined cap. The tattoos that scrawled up her arms were mostly hidden by the sleeves of her dress, but he could see the design on the back of her hands.

She was dressed up for the meeting today, and Tarkhan winced at her tone.

“I’m sorry, mother, the beast was stronger than the reports indicated, but the Talon Sloth will bother the villagers no more.” He said as he took his pack off his back and revealed the contents. Claws as long as his forearm stared back at his mother.

His mother eye’d him up and down, searching for falsehood but found none. His cultivation was nearly her equal, at the Fourth Stage of the Initiate’s Realm, but he was not so foolish as to test her.

Besides, she was his mother. Even if he was in the Profound Realm she would somehow find a way to tan his hide.

Her eyes narrowed for a moment and her hand reached out. She trailed a finger along the mostly healed cut on his face before cupping his cheek and smiling.

“The Young Hero returns. Good work, my son, but you have duties to attend to. You’re nearly late, and I will not make you actually late.”

Tarkhan smiled back at his mother and headed into the Sect Compound, his mother trailing slightly behind him. The center of the house was a grand meeting room, where his Father sat at the head of the circular table. The Elders of their Sect Council sat with him.

His Father, and most of the sect elders, were already seated and ready for the meeting when Tarkhan walked in. His father’s eyes flicked to Tarkhan and he too looked mildly reproachful, but said nothing as Tarkhan was just in time.

His father was stern, but fair, as he saw the remnants of injuries on Tarkhan’s body.

Tarkhan took his seat to his father’s right, the position for the heir, and his mother settled in her seat on her husband’s left as was also tradition.

Tarkhan saw his sister, in her own dress, standing off to the side and preparing tea. Sarnai smiled with pleasure at seeing him again. Her beautiful blue eyes were tianlan, the sky blue near equal to that of Cai Xiulan. The most auspicious colour, and the reason she stayed at home most of the time. Nobody trusted Imperials not to take an interest in their rose, and all the internal clans of the Sect already had their own offers prepared for her hand.

“Was it a hard battle?” his father asked, his eyes shadowed slightly by his bandanna. Like the rest of the elders he had one sleeve off, displaying his tattoos, and Tarkhan took his own shirt partially off as well, exposing his own blue, geometric designs.

“Yes, Father. But I emerged victorious. I would estimate it at the Third Stage of the Initiate’s Realm. It\'s good we got it when we did.”

“Third Stage? It must have been a mighty battle. You have done well, my son.” He replied before turning to the Elders. Some of them were nodding at Tarkhan’s appearance, while others were ambivalent. “As all of us are assembled, we may begin early. So begins the Spring Conclave of the Grand Ravine…”

Tarkhan did his best to pay attention as the Elders delivered reports about their territory and spoke of the security of the Grand Ravine.

There were always some Imperial bastards sniffing around and looking for things to exploit. From the resources to the people, the ravening mouth of the Crimson Phoenix Empire wouldn’t rest until it consumed everything in the world and made it “properly Imperial.”

Tarkhan would rather cut off his own arm. All of them would have preferred to remain completely free of the Empire… but the choices made long ago had apparently been to bend the knee or be buried and forgotten. The only thing that saved them was that somehow one of their Honoured Ancestors had managed to convince the First Emperor to allow them an “autonomous zone” where they would be free to do as they pleased. Some said that the document had been altered and that there was another seal under the blazing phoenix… but others disagreed. None would dare try and scrape off the crimson ink to check. That piece of parchment was one of the most important things the Sect possessed, hidden in their most secure location, with copies being brought out whenever Pale Moon Lake City or Grass Sea City started to complain… though they rarely did.

The Grand Ravine Sect was, after all, the most powerful sect in the Azure Hills, and the ‘cultured Imperials’ had little interest in testing the tribal barbarians

.

Tarkhan, his mother, and his sister all listened carefully as the Elders gave their reports. Father would quiz them all later on the contents and demand that Tarkhan make his own plan on how to deal with the reported issues before the man would calmly and matter of factly explain why Tarkhan was wrong or missing something.

But with the main issues out of the way… the conversation turned, as it always did, to the new power in the Azure Hills; Master Jin.

“We should at least make an attempt at communication. The old texts are clear. You said it yourself that the Earth speaks in his wake; he is the favoured of the Earth, and the old ways open for him. That means he is the Master of the Ravine.” Elder Gunbol stated, the man’s eyes full of intent. Out of all of them, he had read the fragments of their old texts the most. The fractured retellings of some cataclysm that had nearly swallowed the whole Empire, and the Old Hero who was their Lord and Master, uniter of all the clans, and banisher of the Fell Star.

Contacting Master Jin was a popular view, especially after it came out that two of his disciples were of the northern tribes. The man allowed his disciples to bear the symbols of men who were not truly Imperial; which was... Well, it was quite the bold statement.

“The Earth speaks in his wake, yes, yet he has asked not to be bothered. I saw him at the end, standing atop the pinnacle. I would not test the sufferance of a man who can have the Elders of the Shrouded Mountain Sect kowtowing before him.” Elder Khulan retorted, her voice sharp.

“There are other avenues open though. The merchants of the Azure Jade Trading Company are his creatures and shall deliver our message.” Elder Ganzorig mused, the large men scratching his beard.

Tarkhan sighed internally and settled in for another circular conversation where people brought up star signs, their sacred texts, and the messages of the Ancestors.

That night found him heading towards the most important place in the Sect. He was exhausted from the events of the day. His mother and sister had talked his ear off after the meeting, and then he had had to supervise the sect’s training, and then his little brother had demanded a ride around the compound… But cultivation waited for no man… and the place he was heading to would most assuredly make him feel better.

The guards at the Sanctum were both in the Profound Realm; some of their strongest warriors guarded this sacred place, but these two were nearly superfluous compared to the monster who resided within.

Tarkhan felt the barrier wash over him as he bowed, then stepped past the guards, standing before the entrance the secret, hidden glade… and looked upon the reason why the Grand Ravine Sect was the strongest in the Azure Hills.

There was a crystal sticking out of the ground. Dull amber in radiance, Qi, and power, the crystal had the kind of power the other sects would wage war over— and had waged war over in the past, trying to find the secret to their strength.

It was, to Tarkhans’ knowledge, the place with the most Qi in the Azure Hills.

Tarkahn took a deep breath of nourishing air in and then breathed out as the Qi filled his lungs. He kowtowed once at the entrance to the Sanctum before entering fully.

It was said that a Nameless Ancestor found this place in their darkest hour. The fragmented texts spoke of some event, some cataclysm, that found the world in chaos and the natural order upended. They were assaulted on all sides by Imperials gone mad, pushing into the ravine attempting to take their land and kill their people

In the chaos of the time, he had found this wellspring, and initially, in order to gain the strength necessary to protect his people, he began to consume it.

But as he began the task of refining his Qi, the Earth began to tremble and scream; he was assaulted by visions of unimaginable pain and he could feel his strength draining away.

It was at that moment he realised that it was foolish, to consume it all for himself and tear it out of the ground. That if he took this place of power now, his descendants would be without a place to cultivate and that would doom them more than the battles of the present.

Like the Ancestors before him, the Earth spoke and he listened.

And the Grand Ravine Sect had reaped the rewards ever since. It was a testament to their bloodline that not one member of the Sect had dared to do what the Honoured Nameless Ancestor had forbidden, and the crystal had stood for thousands of years, nourishing each generation of the Grand Ravine Sect.

He kowtowed before the crystal and was careful to remain quiet. His grandfather sat directly under the crystal, his eyes closed, and his breathing so shallow it seemed that he was dead. The most powerful man in the Azure Hills, before Master Jin came, had not dared to consume this sacred place and break into the Spiritual Realm. The old Master would die before he dishonored his ancestors and bloodline so.

In addition to the crystal, there were three ancient statues. One was of a man of the ravine; even with the weathering, his tattoos were obvious, carved into stone. The other two… were not his people, yet they bore artifacts of the ravine. The man in the center, his face worn off by time, held an ascending blade, and was dressed in fine clothes. Some said it was a statue of the First Emperor, when their Sect made their deal. Tarkhan… wasn’t so sure. The last was of a woman. Her eyes had worn off… and yet she still had a cheeky grin, dressed half like an Imperial and half like a proper woman. It was quite fetching, in Tarkhan’s opinion, but alas, Imperial girls had the gall to call the clothes of the ravine ugly.

Ugly! When his sister existed!

Give him a girl with a bow and a hunting hawk! That was a proper woman, rather than some icy beauty.

Though now that Cai Xiulan had a real fire in her, she wasn’t bad…

He huffed as he sat down in front of the statue ravineman and centered himself.

Listen, for the Earth speaks.

The mantra of the Grand Ravine Sect. Qi flowed into his body as he circulated it, but like always he had trouble truly assimilating it. He always was skeptical of stories from other provinces that said they advanced realms in days and they consumed all the energy from a pill.

Nobody in the Azure Hills could do that.

He cultivated; he had the next three days, as a reward for doing his duty, and he intended to make the most of them.

Listen, for the Earth speaks. Listen, for the Earth—

We shall honour the past, and nurture and protect the future—not merely of our own kin, but all who live in these Hills. We seek not glory, or to advance our station above all others—only to put into practise those ideals that we know to be true—

Tarkhan’s eyes snapped open as there was a pulse of something… and then a mighty crack. His heart skipped a beat as he felt something minute shift inside of him—and in his grandfather as he felt the old man break through into the Spiritual Realm, without consuming the power of the crystal’s Qi

His eyes opened too, brimming with triumph and tears, but his first words were not of his accomplishment.

“Boy, you heard it. You heard it, didn’t you?” His Honoured Grandfather demanded.

“Yes, Grandfather. I heard it.” Tarkhan replied.

Something had changed.