The Five Cardinal Directionsby GnirChaptersChapter 1Chapter 2Chapter 3Chapter 1Once upon a time, in the August Empire of Chineigh, there lived an Emperor, appointed by Heaven, who ruled justly and fairly. He understood that there were two paths to enlightenment—the Low Path and the High Path. The Low Path favored strength, aggression, and ambition, while the High Path favored peace, understanding, and harmony. The Emperor followed the High Path, and his most trusted Warlord followed the Low Path. For centuries, there was peace. The Emperor governed the land and the Warlord protected it. As the years passed, the Warlord grew jealous of the Emperor. The ponies of the August Empire doted on their Emperor and his ministers, but the Warlord and his faithful soldiers were ignored, seen as fixtures and taken for granted. The Warlord remembered the days when his soldiers were truly soldiers, not peacekeepers. Long ago, he and the Emperor were two mortals with a vision, and Chineigh was but a collection of squabbling states. In those days, he was respected as much as the Emperor. One day, the seas stood still, the wind ceased to pass through the Jade Forest, and the animals fell deathly quiet, as if anticipating some dread event. On this strange day, the Warlord schemed to forcefully win back the respect he had—he would give the people of the Empire something to fear, and in doing so, show them exactly what they had been taking for granted. This strange day was not merely a coincidence, however. The Celestial Bureaucracy and the Emperor's ancestors had warned him of the Warlord's treachery. The Emperor, in his kindness, tried to offer the Warlord concessions, but this was only seen as a bribe. The Warlord swore that he would unleash a blight of monsters and demons on the land, forcing the people of the Empire to rely on his soldiers for protection. Left with no choice, the Emperor used the most treasured artifacts known to Chineigh, the Five Cardinal Directions. Using the sorceries contained within, he banished his closest friend, sealing him forever within the Jade Forest. Though harmony has persisted for generations since, the Jade Forest has remained untamed, never bending to the will of even the strongest weather sorcerer. Studious Wushi wasn't stupid. After all, his intellect was how he had gotten his name, or at least the prefix usually attached to it. His parents had named him “Wushi,” literally “mage” in the old tongue, with the hopes that he would become one. One special talent and a formal education at Xuanling High Sovereign's Academy of Magic had landed him here, in the Imperial Library. He closed the book with a sigh. There were clear parallels between the fairy tale and reality—he wondered why no one ever questioned the longevity of the Emperor. Perhaps the book itself, The Five Cardinal Directions, wasn't as readily available as in the Imperial Library. Wushi could acknowledge that he was more fortunate than many others in that regard, even if he didn't believe in luck. Being apprenticed to the elderly but powerful court magician, Wo Long, gave him a definite advantage over other sorcerers, not to mention other ponies. Perhaps anyone who might question that fact was afraid that they, too, would be banished. Of course that was a ridiculous thought. The pale blue unicorn chastised himself for such a childish, superstitious thought, idly playing with his black, braided tail. The Emperor was a fixture in the young sorcerer's life, almost like a benevolent uncle. He was kind and fair, lacking any hint of cruelty or malice. Even if Wushi, a Low Path traveler, disagreed with the Emperor's beliefs, he could not deny that he loved the wise ruler. Still, it was hard not to be a bit... intimidated by his presence at times. Wushi chalked it up to the fact that he was an alicorn, and an alicorn that ruled one of the most powerful countries in the world. The sorcerer pored over the book, closed though it was. There was a grain of truth in every story. This story had more than its share of grains, and it didn't sit right with him. Wo Long wouldn't have even been born when this 'Warlord' was banished, so that left the Emperor as the only reliable source. Wouldn't he have spoken about it before? Banishing one's best friend seemed a little more than ordinary. Was the Emperor hiding something from him? Wushi scoffed. As if he could get the stately yellow alicorn to speak up if he tried. He would just adopt that enigmatic look, the same one he got when he spoke with Princess Celestia of Equestria. Wushi's thoughts and theories were promptly interrupted by the sounding of a small gong and the smell of incense—the telltale signs of Wo Long's teleportation spell. He cursed softly to himself, jumping in his seat and nearly falling out of it. “Master, must you startle me so?” Wo Long appoached his student, his form-fitting black silk finery complimenting his elderly white coat and mane. “I will not be your master for much longer, I should think.” It was a habit of Wo Long's to make statements with many possible implications. Perhaps he thought it benefited his students to meditate in on those meanings. The old unicorn tugged at his long, almost ethereal beard with an amused, curious expression. “The Five Cardinal Directions? What a curious choice of reading material,” he remarked. Wushi hesitated, trying to read his mentor's facial expression and gauge its meaning. He seemed amused, but was he really? “Do you find it unbecoming, master?” “Certainly not,” he replied. “I think a little bit of history does everyone good.” The younger unicorn quirked a brow at that. “History? Surely there is... dramatic license involved.” “Perhaps. Perhaps you should ask the Emperor, my student. He could give you an eyewitness account, which is something I doubt you'll find anywhere else.” The elder unicorn's wizened mouth twitched upwards. Wushi blanched at that. What a bold, brazen suggestion! To simply ask the Emperor such a personal question, to say nothing of the implied insult and impropriety, would be dreadfully embarrassing if his assumptions were false. He stared in a stunned stupor at his master, searching for any explanation as to why he might have said that. “For one who so often employs sarcasm, your ability to detect jokes is in dire need of improvement, Wushi.” The younger unicorn sighed with equal parts relief and embarassment, feeling the hot rush of blood in his cheeks. “In all seriousness, you should know you have nothing to fear from the Emperor. He loves you as if you were family. You know, you may have the chance to ask him about the story today. I came to tell you that he requested your presence.” Wushi didn't bother asking for what reason he'd been summoned, as there was no denying the will of the Emperor. He stood and bowed respectfully to his master in a quiet request for permission to leave. With a nod from Wo Long, he was off. The thone room of the Emperor was a place few ponies got a chance to see. Wushi was in rare company in that regard—foreign heads of state and diplomats, high-ranking ministers, Wo Long... perhaps even this Warlord figure. If ever there were two thrones in this room, now there was only one. The walk to that throne seemed somehow longer than it usually was. How could one hope to describe the throne room? To put such a place to words risked leaving out some detail or other, a dire insult to the majesty and opulence. Five rows of five candles each sat behind the throne should the Emperor care to pray to his ancestors or commune with the Celestial Bureaucracy. Silk tapestries depicting great moments of legend and history hung from the walls, and two Foo dogs stood watch on either side of the Emperor's throne. They seemed to tolerate the unicorn's presence, as they did with all visitors to this place, but he knew the stone creatures would come to life the moment anypony posed a threat to the Emperor. The room seemed almost to shimmer, such was the quantity of gold within it—gold trim, golden pillars, golden shrines to figures of great import. Then, of course, there was the Emperor himself. It was said in Chineigh that the color yellow was the center of all things. It therefore seemed fitting to Wushi that the Emperor's eyes, windows to his soul, should be a gentle yellow, as should his coat. His Majesty, the August Personage, cut quite a figure, sitting in his throne with his elaborate and flowing robes. Those eyes of his welcomed Wushi, who bowed before his white-maned, yellow coated emperor. “Ni hao, Studious Wushi. You may rise.” Few ponies received such displays of respect from Wushi as the Emperor and Wo Long did. “Your Majesty wanted to see me?” The Emperor nodded slightly, appraising Wo Long's student. “Wushi, I have been speaking with Wo Long. He says that your studies are going well.” The pale blue unicorn canted his head. Perhaps it was arrogant of him to think so, but how was this any different than normal? “I should hope that they are, Your Majesty. After all, he is the Court Sorcerer. One could hardly ask for a better teacher.” The Emperor chuckled, holding a hoof (bedecked with elaborate jade ornaments) to his chin. “He has been teaching you so that you might replace him.” “Is... this revelation meant to surprise me, Your Majesty? I did not think there was any higher calling for the most skilled graduate of the Imperial Academy.” Wushi swelled slightly with pride, improper though it may have been before his emperor. “Ah, excellent! You may start today, then. Wo Long has expressed a desire to retire.” The unicorn silently regarded the Emperor, assessing the alicorn for any sign of trickery. It would certainly be an auspicious occasion if the statement were true, but the suspicious unicorn thought he smelled a test of some sort. His Majesty only offered back his usual cryptic, amiable smile. “I would be honored to start today, Your Majesty.” What that statement really meant was, 'I'm glad the old geezer is finally out of the way, but I'm too polite to say that.' The Emperor entertained a small smile, rubbing his chin. He was entirely aware of Wushi's ambitious nature. Ah, the follies of youth. The unicorn seemed to think he could deceive Chineigh's celestially mandated ruler. “What troubles you, my subject?” Studious Wushi nervously played with his braided mane—the style was known as a cue, and it was quite popular in his home province. “I did not expect such auspicious news today.” He tried to find a way to put it that obscured his joy at the old geezer finally moving aside. “I am... cautiously happy. Your subject is not convinced this isn't some veiled High Path test or an elaborate koan—perish the thought that you would be duplicitous in your actions, Your Majesty.” The Emperor rumbled with a bit of stately laughter, petting the Foo dog to his right. “No tricks,” he said simply. “I would not dangle something you wanted so badly before you in such a way. In fact, to coincide with your new position, I have an official decree for you. A request of sorts.” Wushi stood up tall. “Name your request! I will complete it and then some. What would you have me do? Cleanse the Jade Forest? Hunt down the elusive Monkey King and demand his formal apology to the Celestial Bureaucracy? Demonstrate our greatness to the Western barbarians?” The Emperor blinked. Where should he start? “No...” Western barbarians indeed. The first time that nice young mare Twilight Sparkle visited, Wushi certainly didn't seem to think she was barbaric. Ah, she may have even been his first crush—it was so adorable to watch him back then, absolutely smitten by the older magician. He'd not tease the lad about that, though. “Besides, I quite like the Monkey King. It's a breath of fresh air to find an Immortal who knows how to have a good time. No, my subject, I think your first day of work should be some community service!” Wushi canted his head. Yes, this reeked of a trick. The unicorn closed his eyes and nodded with resignation. “Ah, busy work.” He bit his tongue too late. “Not in the slightest, my ambitious sorcerer,” said the Emperor with a chuckle. “It is important for ponies of stature to reach out to their communities. I want you to help with some preparations for the upcoming Lantern Festival. Who knows—you may even make some friends!” “I have no need for friends, Your Majesty.” The unicorn offered a solemn bow to his ruler. “I will, however, do as you ask.” The Emperor chuckled. Wushi was truly his mother's son. “Very well, Studious Wushi. You may rise.” The unicorn stood up and turned to leave, but hesitated, one foreleg hanging precariously in the air. It hit the ground with a soft clop. “Your Majesty... would you permit your young, inexperienced sorcerer to ask of you a personal question?” Xuanling High Sovereign stroked his beard with a hoof. “Of course, my boy. How may I enlighten you?” The blue stallion turned to face the August Personage in Jade. “Your Majesty, I came across a curious book in the Imperial Library.” He tried to approach the subject matter as delicately as he could, speaking in vagaries. “It mentioned a certain prophecy, and I was wondering if it was... true.” The Emperor leaned forwards with interest. “A prophecy? Well, you know that many ministers use such prophecies to their advantages—geomancy and speaking with one's ancestors come to mind. Every story's tree grows from a seed of truth.” “Truth...” The unicorn mused on the word nervously. “A seed,” affirmed the Emperor almost knowingly. “I wouldn't let it trouble you, whatever it is. The universe tends to sort things out without much fretting on our parts.” Wushi offered a quiet bit of thanks and made his exit without much further ado. Wu wei, the art of action through inaction, might work for a High Path traveler like his father or the Emperor, but it was antithesis to any self-respecting walker of the Low Path. He suspected the Emperor was keeping something from him. If it were true, and the book had some truth to it, then the Jade Warlord was lying in wait within the forest named for his fabled treachery. If he existed, could any force in the universe hope to hold him for long? Wushi would help with those preparations, but he also planned to make a few of his own. If the Emperor would not give him a straight answer, he would just have to look somewhere else. Chapter 2The Lantern Festival happened on the 15th of the first month of the lunar year. Steeped in tradition, it was said to have started as a way to honor the first pony to reach enlightenment. Scholars and historians across Chineigh debated over which Path the pony followed, and there was very much credible evidence for both sides of the argument. High Path scholars seemed to think it was a pony named Receptive Xue, who achieved peace and oneness with the universe through a life of solitude and contemplation. The Low Path, on the other hoof, thought that it was Four Thunders, a strategist of immense talent who fought, conquered, and in some cases bargained his way to enlightenment, eventually coming to the cryptic realization that everything but himself was an illusion. Although the aforementioned theories are the most widely accepted, others within the August Empire say that this person was a mare, or a foal, or in some cases not a pony at all but one of the Empire's other varied races. From a neutral standpoint, it seemed like there would never be an end to the debate, as the event happened so long ago as to be on the fringes of recorded history. Whoever this person was, the story says that a minister in a neighboring province heard about their achievement, and in an effort to honor them, lit lanterns of various sizes in and around his estate. As word spread, other provinces began to do the same thing, all the way until it reached the Emperor's ears. Delighted by the news, he decided to mark the day as a festival, and ordered his royal workers to decorate the city with lanterns of many shapes, sizes, and colors. The ponies in the capitol city were quick to adopt the festival. Over the years, people of both Paths have added their own spins and permutations to the festival. For example, many lanterns began bearing riddles which observers could take to local temples--if they provided a correct answer, the monks would provide them with a tasty baked treat! Those baked treats were the reason Studious Wushi found himself in a High Path temple--leave it to the High Path to expect a reward for not being stupid. He was here to find a pony named Ping, who was, unsurprisingly a monk. The sorcerer assumed that he would be helping with the riddles--why else would the Emperor send a pony of his staggering intellect? He figured that if anypony knew where this Ping was, it would be the abbot. The temple was very much a thing of the High Path. Despite being within the walls of the Empire's capital city, Shanliang, it was like a bastion of introspection and peace. Birds wandered freely here, treated like honored guests. Carefully tended gardens were watched over and cared for by patient, gentle hooves. One of these gardens was under siege by rabbits, but the young stallion tending it (about Wushi's age) simply ushered them away gently, not concerned overly by their encroachments. He smiled at the sorcerer warmly--Wushi politely nodded, but kept his distance. He didn't have time to socialize. The architecture was built around the natural elements, often from the same materials. Wushi made his way up several sets of gently sloping stairs, pausing briefly to sniff at some incense being burned near a little impromptu lesson a senior monk was giving to several foals. He nickered softly, savoring the scent before continuing on. The next level was home to a courtyard, where a group of young fillies and colts was learning a form from a headmaster. The courtyard was wide and flat, made up of evenly spaced stone tiles that served as both a smooth surface to sit on and as even ground for sparring. In one corner, a beautiful Yulan magnolia sprouted up, providing intermittent shade to the tiles under its domain. Occasionally, a strong wind would blow, and take some of the fragmented white flower petals with it. Wushi paused beneath this tree, resting for a few moments and watching the lesson go on. "Remember, children, you never need to put your full energy into any one attack. Watch how my body flows. Swing softly, strike hard." The headmaster demonstrated some basic forms for his students, then moved into the more advanced methods. This must have been the famed Mantis style, named after the insect the monks imitated to create it. "Note my front hooves--we don't have the digits of the Diamond Dogs or the Griffons, but our hooves are still valuable tools that should not be discounted." He practiced some maneuvers on a dummy. Though he slowed them down and focused on the point of impact for his students' sake, Wushi knew that those hooves could move lightning quick if they had to, just like the insect the style was named for. "Have you all been doing your chores, my little ponies?" "Yes, shifu..." came a chorus of bored students. Wushi couldn't help but smirk at this--he remembered this stage in his life. Back when he was still in school, Wo Long had been appointed to him as an instructor, a very auspicious sign for the young colt. The master sorcerer insisted that his student learn Eight Trigram Hoof, a style often associated with mystics and magicians. Throughout the early stages of his training, Wushi complained and was always yearning to learn the flashier techniques. After all, if he, a master of the forces of the universe, HAD to be bothered with learning a martial art, he may as well skip to the 'good stuff,' right? "Dong!" An earth pony colt sat up straight. "Yes, shifu!" "Come here." The colt stood up nervously and trotted over to his teacher. Wushi leaned in. What was this about? The instructor began pacing around the timid colt, inspecting him with a curious expression. Suddenly, he shouted, "HANG UP YOUR CLOAK!" The startled colt quickly ducked his head and brought it up just in time to deflect an attack from his teacher, as if he were picking up a discarded cloak and hanging it up. "STIR THE CAULDRON!" The colt reared up on his hindlegs, using his forelegs to intercept an incoming strike from the headmaster. "Sign your name." The colt blinked, then struck his instructor's leg with a hoof. More than many other styles, the Mantis style focused on grappling and rapid hoof strikes. The instructor had just taught a valuable lesson and a core tenet of the style with his actions. The instructor smiled, breaking free of the colt's hold with ease and patting him on the head. Dong looked as if he'd just jumped to the moon and back without even realizing he could do it. "Very good, Dong. I hope all of you learned something from that demonstration--at the very least, the value of your chores. I'd like all of you to practice your forms while I speak to our guest." That brief bout of spontaneous sparring seemed to energize the foals, who gladly begin practicing now that the benefits of perseverance had been put on display. "Hello, and how may I help you?" asked the instructor, a forest green pegasus. "I am Tiny Forest." "Forest," said Wushi in a polite greeting. The unicorn stood up so that he could bow respectfully to the monk. He tried to stifle a snicker at the pegasus' name--he didn't seem particularly tiny! "I am Studious Wushi. His Majesty the Yellow Emperor has sent me here in search of a pony named Ping. I'm to help this pony prepare for the Lantern Festival." Tiny Forest grinned. "I know where Ping is," he said through his smile, "But I was wondering if I could have your assistance with something first." Wushi sighed. "I really don't have the time," he feebly responded. "Curious. You seemed to have ample time to watch my students." "I was resting. Your temple is st... ahem. Steeply constructed." "The Emperor gave us advance notice of your coming. He said that you're his new court sorcerer and that you were taught Eight Trigram Hoof." Wushi groaned. "Of course he did," he replied with barely concealed annoyance. "What do you want?" Little Forest smirked. "You are direct! I would like for you to spar with me, for the benefit of my students. They don't get to see many styles outside of Mantis and Tiger. They were very excited to see a Crane master from one of our sister temples, and I'd like to provide them with a rare opportunity." "And I suppose you'll graciously tell me where I can find Ping if I do this?" Tiny Forest nodded, his shaved head bobbing up and down. "Of course." "Fine. If it's sparring or walking all the way up to the main hall, I'll gladly spar." Stupid temple and its winding stairs. Stupid obtuse monks. Stupid adorable, attentive foals giving him the occasional pretty-please glance in between practicing forms. Tiny Forest grinned from ear to ear. "Excellent!" He cantered over to his students, taking a position before them. "Everypony, I have a special treat for you all! This is Studious Wushi, and he'll be sparring with me today!" "Ni hao, Mr. Wushi!" A chorus of young voices brimming with enthusiasm rose up to greet the sorcerer. He couldn't help looking away a bit bashfully when greeted with such an overwhelmingly positive audience. "Ni hao, children," he responded quietly. "Wushi is a very talented sorcerer, but he's also been trained in the Eight Trigram Hoof by none other than Wo Long!" Very many 'oooohs' arose from the youngsters. "It's almost time for lunch, so to save time we'll be sparring three sets, with the winner being the pony who can knock the other down two times out of three. Watch Wushi carefully, children." The two stallions took their places in the center of the courtyard. Each one offered the other a customary bow, and with that, they each took their preferred stances. Wushi began by using a technique known as circle-trotting, in which he made a series of fluid, continuous steps around his opponent in order to control the battlefield. Tiny Forest seemed to practice a hard variation of Mantis, which meant that Wushi might be able to get away with being aggressive. He'd still need to be cautious, since most variations of Mantis were famed for their variety of redirective techniques. To the sorcerer's surprise, Tiny Forest was actually the first to attack, coming at him with a flying back kick. Wushi darted underneath it, letting the other pony slide off of him. A quick turn revealed a hoof heading straight for him. Like a dancing dragon, the unicorn fluidly moved beneath the pegasus' attack, counterattacking with a hard shove to the other pony's barrel. This was a hit with the foals. "Notice how fluidly he moves, how he bends around my attacks. What kind of style to we call this, my little ponies?" Wushi and Tiny Forest traded a few attacks, each one testing the other's resolve to commit to an exchange. "Soft!" answered a few confident foals. "Very good," said the teacher as he locked one of Wushi's forelegs into place. A strike hard enough to leave a hoof-shaped bruise came from the pegasus, landing with a thud on the unicorn's withers. "And our Mantis style is a--" Before the pegasus could continue his lecture, Wushi twisted, rump checking the monk and throwing him off balance. With another one of his graceful dips, the unicorn quickly lifted and rolled the startled pegasus off of his back, depositing him with a thump onto the ground. He received a round of polite applause, including some from Tiny Forest. "Hard style," Wushi remarked, finishing the pegasus' sentence. The next set began in much the same way. The exchanges flowed like conversation, each pony getting to know the other through the way he fought. Wushi was strategic and methodical, never once stopping his circle-trotting, and using the motion as a means to deliver attacks. His teacher had taught him well, but this time, Tiny Forest got the better of Wushi. When the sorcerer attempted to counter a sweep kick with a sidelong jumping foreleg strike, the pegasus once again locked the leg, this time forcing his opponent to the ground. It went over well with the foals, but not with Wushi. He was through playing around with this guy. At the start of the next set, he attacked with a feint. Tiny Forest held his hooves up in a position to redirect and strike, but the opportunity never came. Instead, two stone hands burst from the ground and flipped the pegasus over, called forth by Wushi's horn. Cries of foul and giggles alike erupted from the audience, but Tiny Forest quieted the foals. "No fair! Magic isn't kung fu!" A little filly in the front gave Wushi a very severe pout. "Kung fu is hard work over time to refine a skill. I would say it is kung fu." Wushi smiled at her, flipping his cue over his withers. "B-but it's not martial arts," she whined. Several of the students seemed to agree with her, none of them unicorns. "What about it is unworthy of being called a martial art?" to Wushi's surprise, Tiny Forest was actually defending him! "It takes discipline and concentration. It comes from within. Wushi's horn is as much a part of his body as his legs, his tail, or his ears. He's not going to abstain from magic just because I'm a pegasus." The little filly seemed at least partially satisfied. A unicorn colt raised his hoof. "So how come us unicorns are bothering to learn boring old stuff like Mantis style when we could be doing the stone thingy he just did?" Wushi eventually broke the 'stone thingies' to allow Tiny Forest to move. "That's a very good question, Bao!" The pegasus rolled his neck. Without warning, Wushi found himself to several chi strikes within the space of a second. He collapsed on the courtyard like his legs were made of jelly, his horn sparking uselessly. "That's why!" One prana from Wushi and several apologies from Tiny Forest later, the unicorn was on his way BACK down the stairs in search of Ping. Apparently, he'd already seen the fellow. Ping was peaceful even by High Path standards. He didn't like sparring or practicing martial arts, and preferred to get his exercise by doing chores rather than fighting or practicing forms. Wushi eventually found the pony doing some weeding in one of the gardens down at the ground level. "Hello," the monk said as he worked. "Hi," said Wushi with short breath. "I really hope you're Ping." The monk, a pristine white pegasus with a shaved mane and a black tail, paused in his work. He sat down and peered at Wushi curiously. His scalp bore the familiar marks of ordainment--nine burn marks caused by incense, performed to show his dedication to the ascetic lifestyle. The unicorn didn't realize he was staring at them until the monk spoke up. "I'm Ping. Were you looking for me?" "Y-Yes." Relief washed over Wushi. He wasn't sure what he'd do if he had to go up those blasted stairs again! "I'm here to help with preparations for the Lantern Festival." "Oh, good!" Ping smiled and stood up. "What's your name?" "I'm Studious Wushi." "Nice to meet you, Wushi. I'm so glad you came along! I didn't think I'd be able to get all of this year's baking done by myself." He beamed at the sorcerer and bowed. Wushi returned the gesture of greeting. "Baking..." He tried to sound enthused about it. Ping was more receptive than his humble demeanor would imply. "Is something wrong, Wushi?" "No, nothing's wrong. I had simply imagined that I would be helping to write some of the riddles the High Path half of the celebration is so famous for." He scratched the back of his head nervously. "Riddles? Oh, Abbot Cheung has written those for as long as I can remember. Besides, making the sweet dumplings is a lot of fun! They're like tasty little snowballs." He smiled sweetly at the sorcerer, melting his resolve to complain just a bit. "Well... if you say so." "Great! The kitchen's just up the stairs--" "Bah!" Chapter 3Wushi collapsed, sitting down as soon as he made it into the kitchen. "Why does this temple have so many stairs?" He wiped his forehead with a hoof, panting and taking a weary look around the kitchen. It was pretty modest, about what one would expect for a High Path temple. The stone floor was, thankfully, very cool and smooth. The kitchen was adjacent to the main hall, so at least the cook wouldn't have to walk a ridiculously long way to serve dinner. Ping just shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. I guess we just value the journey more than the destination?" "I can tell." Wushi rolled his neck slightly. "So, what's first?" The monk smiled and gestured with a wing to a large tumbler that looked a bit out of place in the kitchen. "It's quite simple! You make the dough, and I'll make the filling. Then you use that tumbler to keep the dough moving so it doesn't settle, and I roll the filling up into little balls. Then I dip them into the dough 'till they get nice and big, and there you have it--sweet Lantern Festival dumplings!" "How do I go about making the dough? I've never really... cooked before. At all." The most inroads Wushi had made in the culinary department was the occasional grilled daisy sandwich, and he still had trouble getting the right consistency, even though it was his go-to recipe. Ping waved a wing dismissively. "That's okay, Wushi. See the rice flour beside the tumbler?" There were several bags on the floor. "Just mix that with water 'till it's just right. If it's too sticky, add more flour, and if it's too dry, add more water. It takes a bit to get it right, but once you do, all you have to do is keep it moving. You can do it!" The monk smiled warmly at Wushi. It didn't sound so hard. Using his horn, the unicorn levitated the ingredients into the mixture. Ever the scholar, Wushi simply went with what he felt was a logical balance between flour and water and went from there. Testing it with a hoof, he found it was far too dry, so he added water in meticulously measured increments until he found it to be satisfactory. "Don't forget to keep turning the tumbler, Wushi." Ah, yes, that was right. The device began to spin under the guidance of the unicorn's mental grasp. "Wow," commented Ping. "We'll be done in no time with that magic of yours." "It's not exactly what I imagined I'd be doing on the first day of the job," he truthfully replied, keeping the tumbler going as he watched Ping cook up a batch of the sweet filling. "The first day of what job?" asked Ping. "I'm the new court sorcerer," Wushi attested. "Oh, congratulations, Wushi! And may I say, you have a very auspicious cutie mark for a sorcerer." Ping nodded to the dragon on Wushi's flank, poring over a scroll. The mark had appeared on the unicorn when he realized as a colt that he wanted to be a powerful magician like Wo Long. "Thank you, Ping. If you don't mind me saying so... yours seems a bit unorthodox for a monk. What is your special talent?" The white pegasus bore a curious mark. It looked to be a burning piece of joss paper whose fumes were an unusual shade of blue. Ping seemed a bit hesitant to answer, going so far as to cover his cutie mark. "I can speak to spirits." "So can everyone else, on Ghost Day," said Wushi, continuing to churn the tumbler. "Not just ancestors, and not only on Ghost Day. Ever since I was a little colt I was sensitive to... well, spirits of any kind. Lost souls, other people's ancestors... spectres." He shivered, nearly dropping a ball of filling. "People treated me differently. They meant well, but foals pick up on that kind of thing." "Is that why you decided to become a monk?" "Yes." Ping continued rolling the filling up into little balls, though at this point it seemed like he was trying to occupy himself with the task rather than enjoy it as he was before. "The monks don't treat me any differently, and I learned ways to refine my talent here." Wushi watched the sweet filling dip in and out of the rice dough, coming out thicker each time. Ping's white hooves probably had plenty of that dough on them, though it was hard to tell. "Were you picked on for your talent?" "No, not at all. Mediums are a very respected part of our culture, and I'm quite proud of it, even if ghosts still frighten me a little. There's no greater feeling for me than helping a spirit move on, or putting somepony in touch with their ancestor. It's just that..." The pegasus paused, peering over the filling balls he'd made thus far. "I wish I could change the way people treated me. So many people just 'handle' me. Do you understand?" He dipped a few more treats into the tumbler, holding them in for long enough to give them an ample coating, then darting them out quickly. Wushi observed that Ping had the speed of a warrior, even if he didn't use it for combat. "I don't think I do, but I'd like to." "Really? I had you pegged for Low Path." "I am Low Path." "Your empathy surprises me, Wushi." "Call it that, if you want to. I call it making an informed judgment." Ping canted his head in confusion for a moment, then smiled for the first time since they'd started talking about his special talent. "Okay," he said with a little laugh. "I guess, being 'handled' is... It's everypony being nice to you in a really fake way. They don't know you, but they know you're a medium, and they just assume you'll send a spirit after them if they don't show you the proper respect. In the temple, it's different. I use my talent to help when I'm needed, same as anypony else. It's a part of who I am, but not all I am." "I see." "So what are you going to do now?" Ping's smile faded into a neutral expression as the question left his lips. It went without saying that he was worried Wushi would somehow treat him differently. "I'm going to keep making these treats until we're finished," replied the unicorn. "It doesn't look like we have much longer to go." "That isn't what I meant." "Say what you mean. Be direct." Ping bit his lower lip. "You're not going to... treat me differently?" "No. I'm not in the habit of giving undeserved accolades." The pegasus paused, making a few of the treats too big. Looking at them awkwardly, he placed them with the others. He supposed those few would have to be saved as treats for really tough riddles. Returning his gaze to Wushi, the pegasus cracked a smile. "Thanks, I guess." "Of course. You'll always get a fair assessment from me." Some time passed without either of them saying much. Perhaps within fifteen minutes or half an hour, they'd made a truly impressive amount of treats, an amount worthy of the capital city's celebration. Ping managed to get into a decent rhythm with Wushi, who occasionally needed to add more flour and water as the treats were dipped in. It wasn't long before they'd used up all of the supplies. "That should take care of it," said Ping. "Really?" Wushi sounded almost disappointed. "Yeah," the pegasus responded with a nod. "I know it doesn't look like enough for the city, but generally we make enough to cover the initial rush and then continue making them through the festival. Most of the revelers shy away from the riddles after the first hour or two of the festival." Wushi stroked his chin with a hoof. He didn't think he would at first, but he actually enjoyed himself. Still, he had perhaps spent too much time here. He did still have a mission to do. The Emperor had said that all stories had a seed of truth. Was he trying to affirm the unicorn's suspicions without being too direct? Perhaps, Wushi thought, he was meant to come to the conclusion on his own, without the Emperor's help? "Ping, I should get going soon, but I have a question. It's important." "What is it, Wushi?" Ping wiped his hooves with a dishcloth. "What's the oldest spirit you've ever spoken with?" "The oldest?" The white pegasus touched a hoof to his lower lip, trying to remember. "I don't know, exactly. Some of them have been pretty old. It can be dangerous to talk to the older ones if they're not honored ancestors." "Why is that?" "They're old, so they're powerful, but they're also not ancestors. They don't have anypony to remember them, or anything in the living world to serve as a monument to them--no shrines, or in some cases not even a grave. When spirits aren't remembered they get sad. And then they get angry, and it twists them up inside." Ping frowned in such a way that Wushi almost felt the emotion himself. "When ponies get that way, they can lash out at people. Imagine what a centuries-old spectre with putrified chi can do." The sorcerer nodded grimly. "So, if I wanted to safely speak to a pony from the Jade Warlord's time, I would have to find someone's ancestor from back then." Ping quirked a brow curiously. "Yes, but the Jade Warlord is a folk tale." "I'd like to see how true that really is." "Well, I'd love to help you, but how would we find an ancestor spirit from that long ago? Scholars have been trying to find relics from that time period for years." Wushi, a scholar himself, gave a shrug. "I don't know, but I know where to start looking. It just so happens the pony that can help us is also helping with the festival this year. I need to go see him anyway to see if he needs any help. It wouldn't be much to leverage his assistance in return for mine." Ping gave that some thought. "Leverage doesn't sound like a nice word," he mused. "Maybe not, but if that's what I need to do to get his help, then it's acceptable. Come on, let's go." "You want me to come with you?" Ping offered an excited smile. "Yes, you're useful." The pegasus' spirits dimmed a bit. "And perhaps I'm evaluating the advantages of a friendship." "...I'll go tell Abbot Cheung." Wushi's old enemies, the stairs, seemed to have their fangs dulled this time around. Perhaps it was a psychosomatic effect induced by Ping's company. He'd have to look into that later. "His name is Jiejan, but he'll probably insist that you preface his name with his title. He was promoted to a Minister last month and he's very proud of it." Ping nodded. "I'll keep that in mind. What does he do?" "He oversees taxes and trials for Shanliang City." "For the whole capital city? That must be a stressful job." Wushi chuckled. "I don't know how he does it. Jiejan is... one of a kind, I'll give him that." Ping stretched his wings a bit as they walked. As the reached the next level down, he gave a respectful bow to Tiny Forest, who received a scowl from Wushi. "Is Minister Jiejan your friend?" "I've known him for years, but I don't know if I'd call him my friend." The pegasus frowned. "Why not?" "We only know each other because of how often he delivered reports to the Emperor before his promotion. Besides, I don't know if I'd call anypony my friend." "Is it because you're Low Path?" Wushi nodded as the entrance to the temple grew nearer. "Yes, that has something to do with it. We generally don't have an interest in things we can't define in concrete terms. Friendship is one of those things." "But you are... evaluating the advantages." "Yes. It's always best to make an informed decision. If there's some kind of intangible advantage to having sincere friends, as you put it, then I'd probably decide in favor of the idea." The white pegasus smiled, content to leave the matter alone for the time being. The two stallions made their departure from the temple with relatively little fanfare. Life went on inside the walls of the temple just as it did inside the walls of the Empire's capital city. The monk found, as the two of them approached the Ministry of Certainty, that he rather liked the way the sorcerer treated him. It was a little prickly, but his honesty was refreshing, as was his open-mindedness. It was almost like kindness, in a convoluted Low Path way. Wushi, on the other hand found that Ping's simple mannerisms and easygoing nature made him a most... inoffensive pony to be around. Yes, he didn't dislike Ping. "Here we are. I hope you're ready to jump through some hoops." The pegasus brightened. Games? "Figurative hoops, Ping."
Chapter 1Once upon a time, in the August Empire of Chineigh, there lived an Emperor, appointed by Heaven, who ruled justly and fairly. He understood that there were two paths to enlightenment—the Low Path and the High Path. The Low Path favored strength, aggression, and ambition, while the High Path favored peace, understanding, and harmony. The Emperor followed the High Path, and his most trusted Warlord followed the Low Path. For centuries, there was peace. The Emperor governed the land and the Warlord protected it. As the years passed, the Warlord grew jealous of the Emperor. The ponies of the August Empire doted on their Emperor and his ministers, but the Warlord and his faithful soldiers were ignored, seen as fixtures and taken for granted. The Warlord remembered the days when his soldiers were truly soldiers, not peacekeepers. Long ago, he and the Emperor were two mortals with a vision, and Chineigh was but a collection of squabbling states. In those days, he was respected as much as the Emperor. One day, the seas stood still, the wind ceased to pass through the Jade Forest, and the animals fell deathly quiet, as if anticipating some dread event. On this strange day, the Warlord schemed to forcefully win back the respect he had—he would give the people of the Empire something to fear, and in doing so, show them exactly what they had been taking for granted. This strange day was not merely a coincidence, however. The Celestial Bureaucracy and the Emperor's ancestors had warned him of the Warlord's treachery. The Emperor, in his kindness, tried to offer the Warlord concessions, but this was only seen as a bribe. The Warlord swore that he would unleash a blight of monsters and demons on the land, forcing the people of the Empire to rely on his soldiers for protection. Left with no choice, the Emperor used the most treasured artifacts known to Chineigh, the Five Cardinal Directions. Using the sorceries contained within, he banished his closest friend, sealing him forever within the Jade Forest. Though harmony has persisted for generations since, the Jade Forest has remained untamed, never bending to the will of even the strongest weather sorcerer. Studious Wushi wasn't stupid. After all, his intellect was how he had gotten his name, or at least the prefix usually attached to it. His parents had named him “Wushi,” literally “mage” in the old tongue, with the hopes that he would become one. One special talent and a formal education at Xuanling High Sovereign's Academy of Magic had landed him here, in the Imperial Library. He closed the book with a sigh. There were clear parallels between the fairy tale and reality—he wondered why no one ever questioned the longevity of the Emperor. Perhaps the book itself, The Five Cardinal Directions, wasn't as readily available as in the Imperial Library. Wushi could acknowledge that he was more fortunate than many others in that regard, even if he didn't believe in luck. Being apprenticed to the elderly but powerful court magician, Wo Long, gave him a definite advantage over other sorcerers, not to mention other ponies. Perhaps anyone who might question that fact was afraid that they, too, would be banished. Of course that was a ridiculous thought. The pale blue unicorn chastised himself for such a childish, superstitious thought, idly playing with his black, braided tail. The Emperor was a fixture in the young sorcerer's life, almost like a benevolent uncle. He was kind and fair, lacking any hint of cruelty or malice. Even if Wushi, a Low Path traveler, disagreed with the Emperor's beliefs, he could not deny that he loved the wise ruler. Still, it was hard not to be a bit... intimidated by his presence at times. Wushi chalked it up to the fact that he was an alicorn, and an alicorn that ruled one of the most powerful countries in the world. The sorcerer pored over the book, closed though it was. There was a grain of truth in every story. This story had more than its share of grains, and it didn't sit right with him. Wo Long wouldn't have even been born when this 'Warlord' was banished, so that left the Emperor as the only reliable source. Wouldn't he have spoken about it before? Banishing one's best friend seemed a little more than ordinary. Was the Emperor hiding something from him? Wushi scoffed. As if he could get the stately yellow alicorn to speak up if he tried. He would just adopt that enigmatic look, the same one he got when he spoke with Princess Celestia of Equestria. Wushi's thoughts and theories were promptly interrupted by the sounding of a small gong and the smell of incense—the telltale signs of Wo Long's teleportation spell. He cursed softly to himself, jumping in his seat and nearly falling out of it. “Master, must you startle me so?” Wo Long appoached his student, his form-fitting black silk finery complimenting his elderly white coat and mane. “I will not be your master for much longer, I should think.” It was a habit of Wo Long's to make statements with many possible implications. Perhaps he thought it benefited his students to meditate in on those meanings. The old unicorn tugged at his long, almost ethereal beard with an amused, curious expression. “The Five Cardinal Directions? What a curious choice of reading material,” he remarked. Wushi hesitated, trying to read his mentor's facial expression and gauge its meaning. He seemed amused, but was he really? “Do you find it unbecoming, master?” “Certainly not,” he replied. “I think a little bit of history does everyone good.” The younger unicorn quirked a brow at that. “History? Surely there is... dramatic license involved.” “Perhaps. Perhaps you should ask the Emperor, my student. He could give you an eyewitness account, which is something I doubt you'll find anywhere else.” The elder unicorn's wizened mouth twitched upwards. Wushi blanched at that. What a bold, brazen suggestion! To simply ask the Emperor such a personal question, to say nothing of the implied insult and impropriety, would be dreadfully embarrassing if his assumptions were false. He stared in a stunned stupor at his master, searching for any explanation as to why he might have said that. “For one who so often employs sarcasm, your ability to detect jokes is in dire need of improvement, Wushi.” The younger unicorn sighed with equal parts relief and embarassment, feeling the hot rush of blood in his cheeks. “In all seriousness, you should know you have nothing to fear from the Emperor. He loves you as if you were family. You know, you may have the chance to ask him about the story today. I came to tell you that he requested your presence.” Wushi didn't bother asking for what reason he'd been summoned, as there was no denying the will of the Emperor. He stood and bowed respectfully to his master in a quiet request for permission to leave. With a nod from Wo Long, he was off. The thone room of the Emperor was a place few ponies got a chance to see. Wushi was in rare company in that regard—foreign heads of state and diplomats, high-ranking ministers, Wo Long... perhaps even this Warlord figure. If ever there were two thrones in this room, now there was only one. The walk to that throne seemed somehow longer than it usually was. How could one hope to describe the throne room? To put such a place to words risked leaving out some detail or other, a dire insult to the majesty and opulence. Five rows of five candles each sat behind the throne should the Emperor care to pray to his ancestors or commune with the Celestial Bureaucracy. Silk tapestries depicting great moments of legend and history hung from the walls, and two Foo dogs stood watch on either side of the Emperor's throne. They seemed to tolerate the unicorn's presence, as they did with all visitors to this place, but he knew the stone creatures would come to life the moment anypony posed a threat to the Emperor. The room seemed almost to shimmer, such was the quantity of gold within it—gold trim, golden pillars, golden shrines to figures of great import. Then, of course, there was the Emperor himself. It was said in Chineigh that the color yellow was the center of all things. It therefore seemed fitting to Wushi that the Emperor's eyes, windows to his soul, should be a gentle yellow, as should his coat. His Majesty, the August Personage, cut quite a figure, sitting in his throne with his elaborate and flowing robes. Those eyes of his welcomed Wushi, who bowed before his white-maned, yellow coated emperor. “Ni hao, Studious Wushi. You may rise.” Few ponies received such displays of respect from Wushi as the Emperor and Wo Long did. “Your Majesty wanted to see me?” The Emperor nodded slightly, appraising Wo Long's student. “Wushi, I have been speaking with Wo Long. He says that your studies are going well.” The pale blue unicorn canted his head. Perhaps it was arrogant of him to think so, but how was this any different than normal? “I should hope that they are, Your Majesty. After all, he is the Court Sorcerer. One could hardly ask for a better teacher.” The Emperor chuckled, holding a hoof (bedecked with elaborate jade ornaments) to his chin. “He has been teaching you so that you might replace him.” “Is... this revelation meant to surprise me, Your Majesty? I did not think there was any higher calling for the most skilled graduate of the Imperial Academy.” Wushi swelled slightly with pride, improper though it may have been before his emperor. “Ah, excellent! You may start today, then. Wo Long has expressed a desire to retire.” The unicorn silently regarded the Emperor, assessing the alicorn for any sign of trickery. It would certainly be an auspicious occasion if the statement were true, but the suspicious unicorn thought he smelled a test of some sort. His Majesty only offered back his usual cryptic, amiable smile. “I would be honored to start today, Your Majesty.” What that statement really meant was, 'I'm glad the old geezer is finally out of the way, but I'm too polite to say that.' The Emperor entertained a small smile, rubbing his chin. He was entirely aware of Wushi's ambitious nature. Ah, the follies of youth. The unicorn seemed to think he could deceive Chineigh's celestially mandated ruler. “What troubles you, my subject?” Studious Wushi nervously played with his braided mane—the style was known as a cue, and it was quite popular in his home province. “I did not expect such auspicious news today.” He tried to find a way to put it that obscured his joy at the old geezer finally moving aside. “I am... cautiously happy. Your subject is not convinced this isn't some veiled High Path test or an elaborate koan—perish the thought that you would be duplicitous in your actions, Your Majesty.” The Emperor rumbled with a bit of stately laughter, petting the Foo dog to his right. “No tricks,” he said simply. “I would not dangle something you wanted so badly before you in such a way. In fact, to coincide with your new position, I have an official decree for you. A request of sorts.” Wushi stood up tall. “Name your request! I will complete it and then some. What would you have me do? Cleanse the Jade Forest? Hunt down the elusive Monkey King and demand his formal apology to the Celestial Bureaucracy? Demonstrate our greatness to the Western barbarians?” The Emperor blinked. Where should he start? “No...” Western barbarians indeed. The first time that nice young mare Twilight Sparkle visited, Wushi certainly didn't seem to think she was barbaric. Ah, she may have even been his first crush—it was so adorable to watch him back then, absolutely smitten by the older magician. He'd not tease the lad about that, though. “Besides, I quite like the Monkey King. It's a breath of fresh air to find an Immortal who knows how to have a good time. No, my subject, I think your first day of work should be some community service!” Wushi canted his head. Yes, this reeked of a trick. The unicorn closed his eyes and nodded with resignation. “Ah, busy work.” He bit his tongue too late. “Not in the slightest, my ambitious sorcerer,” said the Emperor with a chuckle. “It is important for ponies of stature to reach out to their communities. I want you to help with some preparations for the upcoming Lantern Festival. Who knows—you may even make some friends!” “I have no need for friends, Your Majesty.” The unicorn offered a solemn bow to his ruler. “I will, however, do as you ask.” The Emperor chuckled. Wushi was truly his mother's son. “Very well, Studious Wushi. You may rise.” The unicorn stood up and turned to leave, but hesitated, one foreleg hanging precariously in the air. It hit the ground with a soft clop. “Your Majesty... would you permit your young, inexperienced sorcerer to ask of you a personal question?” Xuanling High Sovereign stroked his beard with a hoof. “Of course, my boy. How may I enlighten you?” The blue stallion turned to face the August Personage in Jade. “Your Majesty, I came across a curious book in the Imperial Library.” He tried to approach the subject matter as delicately as he could, speaking in vagaries. “It mentioned a certain prophecy, and I was wondering if it was... true.” The Emperor leaned forwards with interest. “A prophecy? Well, you know that many ministers use such prophecies to their advantages—geomancy and speaking with one's ancestors come to mind. Every story's tree grows from a seed of truth.” “Truth...” The unicorn mused on the word nervously. “A seed,” affirmed the Emperor almost knowingly. “I wouldn't let it trouble you, whatever it is. The universe tends to sort things out without much fretting on our parts.” Wushi offered a quiet bit of thanks and made his exit without much further ado. Wu wei, the art of action through inaction, might work for a High Path traveler like his father or the Emperor, but it was antithesis to any self-respecting walker of the Low Path. He suspected the Emperor was keeping something from him. If it were true, and the book had some truth to it, then the Jade Warlord was lying in wait within the forest named for his fabled treachery. If he existed, could any force in the universe hope to hold him for long? Wushi would help with those preparations, but he also planned to make a few of his own. If the Emperor would not give him a straight answer, he would just have to look somewhere else.
Chapter 2The Lantern Festival happened on the 15th of the first month of the lunar year. Steeped in tradition, it was said to have started as a way to honor the first pony to reach enlightenment. Scholars and historians across Chineigh debated over which Path the pony followed, and there was very much credible evidence for both sides of the argument. High Path scholars seemed to think it was a pony named Receptive Xue, who achieved peace and oneness with the universe through a life of solitude and contemplation. The Low Path, on the other hoof, thought that it was Four Thunders, a strategist of immense talent who fought, conquered, and in some cases bargained his way to enlightenment, eventually coming to the cryptic realization that everything but himself was an illusion. Although the aforementioned theories are the most widely accepted, others within the August Empire say that this person was a mare, or a foal, or in some cases not a pony at all but one of the Empire's other varied races. From a neutral standpoint, it seemed like there would never be an end to the debate, as the event happened so long ago as to be on the fringes of recorded history. Whoever this person was, the story says that a minister in a neighboring province heard about their achievement, and in an effort to honor them, lit lanterns of various sizes in and around his estate. As word spread, other provinces began to do the same thing, all the way until it reached the Emperor's ears. Delighted by the news, he decided to mark the day as a festival, and ordered his royal workers to decorate the city with lanterns of many shapes, sizes, and colors. The ponies in the capitol city were quick to adopt the festival. Over the years, people of both Paths have added their own spins and permutations to the festival. For example, many lanterns began bearing riddles which observers could take to local temples--if they provided a correct answer, the monks would provide them with a tasty baked treat! Those baked treats were the reason Studious Wushi found himself in a High Path temple--leave it to the High Path to expect a reward for not being stupid. He was here to find a pony named Ping, who was, unsurprisingly a monk. The sorcerer assumed that he would be helping with the riddles--why else would the Emperor send a pony of his staggering intellect? He figured that if anypony knew where this Ping was, it would be the abbot. The temple was very much a thing of the High Path. Despite being within the walls of the Empire's capital city, Shanliang, it was like a bastion of introspection and peace. Birds wandered freely here, treated like honored guests. Carefully tended gardens were watched over and cared for by patient, gentle hooves. One of these gardens was under siege by rabbits, but the young stallion tending it (about Wushi's age) simply ushered them away gently, not concerned overly by their encroachments. He smiled at the sorcerer warmly--Wushi politely nodded, but kept his distance. He didn't have time to socialize. The architecture was built around the natural elements, often from the same materials. Wushi made his way up several sets of gently sloping stairs, pausing briefly to sniff at some incense being burned near a little impromptu lesson a senior monk was giving to several foals. He nickered softly, savoring the scent before continuing on. The next level was home to a courtyard, where a group of young fillies and colts was learning a form from a headmaster. The courtyard was wide and flat, made up of evenly spaced stone tiles that served as both a smooth surface to sit on and as even ground for sparring. In one corner, a beautiful Yulan magnolia sprouted up, providing intermittent shade to the tiles under its domain. Occasionally, a strong wind would blow, and take some of the fragmented white flower petals with it. Wushi paused beneath this tree, resting for a few moments and watching the lesson go on. "Remember, children, you never need to put your full energy into any one attack. Watch how my body flows. Swing softly, strike hard." The headmaster demonstrated some basic forms for his students, then moved into the more advanced methods. This must have been the famed Mantis style, named after the insect the monks imitated to create it. "Note my front hooves--we don't have the digits of the Diamond Dogs or the Griffons, but our hooves are still valuable tools that should not be discounted." He practiced some maneuvers on a dummy. Though he slowed them down and focused on the point of impact for his students' sake, Wushi knew that those hooves could move lightning quick if they had to, just like the insect the style was named for. "Have you all been doing your chores, my little ponies?" "Yes, shifu..." came a chorus of bored students. Wushi couldn't help but smirk at this--he remembered this stage in his life. Back when he was still in school, Wo Long had been appointed to him as an instructor, a very auspicious sign for the young colt. The master sorcerer insisted that his student learn Eight Trigram Hoof, a style often associated with mystics and magicians. Throughout the early stages of his training, Wushi complained and was always yearning to learn the flashier techniques. After all, if he, a master of the forces of the universe, HAD to be bothered with learning a martial art, he may as well skip to the 'good stuff,' right? "Dong!" An earth pony colt sat up straight. "Yes, shifu!" "Come here." The colt stood up nervously and trotted over to his teacher. Wushi leaned in. What was this about? The instructor began pacing around the timid colt, inspecting him with a curious expression. Suddenly, he shouted, "HANG UP YOUR CLOAK!" The startled colt quickly ducked his head and brought it up just in time to deflect an attack from his teacher, as if he were picking up a discarded cloak and hanging it up. "STIR THE CAULDRON!" The colt reared up on his hindlegs, using his forelegs to intercept an incoming strike from the headmaster. "Sign your name." The colt blinked, then struck his instructor's leg with a hoof. More than many other styles, the Mantis style focused on grappling and rapid hoof strikes. The instructor had just taught a valuable lesson and a core tenet of the style with his actions. The instructor smiled, breaking free of the colt's hold with ease and patting him on the head. Dong looked as if he'd just jumped to the moon and back without even realizing he could do it. "Very good, Dong. I hope all of you learned something from that demonstration--at the very least, the value of your chores. I'd like all of you to practice your forms while I speak to our guest." That brief bout of spontaneous sparring seemed to energize the foals, who gladly begin practicing now that the benefits of perseverance had been put on display. "Hello, and how may I help you?" asked the instructor, a forest green pegasus. "I am Tiny Forest." "Forest," said Wushi in a polite greeting. The unicorn stood up so that he could bow respectfully to the monk. He tried to stifle a snicker at the pegasus' name--he didn't seem particularly tiny! "I am Studious Wushi. His Majesty the Yellow Emperor has sent me here in search of a pony named Ping. I'm to help this pony prepare for the Lantern Festival." Tiny Forest grinned. "I know where Ping is," he said through his smile, "But I was wondering if I could have your assistance with something first." Wushi sighed. "I really don't have the time," he feebly responded. "Curious. You seemed to have ample time to watch my students." "I was resting. Your temple is st... ahem. Steeply constructed." "The Emperor gave us advance notice of your coming. He said that you're his new court sorcerer and that you were taught Eight Trigram Hoof." Wushi groaned. "Of course he did," he replied with barely concealed annoyance. "What do you want?" Little Forest smirked. "You are direct! I would like for you to spar with me, for the benefit of my students. They don't get to see many styles outside of Mantis and Tiger. They were very excited to see a Crane master from one of our sister temples, and I'd like to provide them with a rare opportunity." "And I suppose you'll graciously tell me where I can find Ping if I do this?" Tiny Forest nodded, his shaved head bobbing up and down. "Of course." "Fine. If it's sparring or walking all the way up to the main hall, I'll gladly spar." Stupid temple and its winding stairs. Stupid obtuse monks. Stupid adorable, attentive foals giving him the occasional pretty-please glance in between practicing forms. Tiny Forest grinned from ear to ear. "Excellent!" He cantered over to his students, taking a position before them. "Everypony, I have a special treat for you all! This is Studious Wushi, and he'll be sparring with me today!" "Ni hao, Mr. Wushi!" A chorus of young voices brimming with enthusiasm rose up to greet the sorcerer. He couldn't help looking away a bit bashfully when greeted with such an overwhelmingly positive audience. "Ni hao, children," he responded quietly. "Wushi is a very talented sorcerer, but he's also been trained in the Eight Trigram Hoof by none other than Wo Long!" Very many 'oooohs' arose from the youngsters. "It's almost time for lunch, so to save time we'll be sparring three sets, with the winner being the pony who can knock the other down two times out of three. Watch Wushi carefully, children." The two stallions took their places in the center of the courtyard. Each one offered the other a customary bow, and with that, they each took their preferred stances. Wushi began by using a technique known as circle-trotting, in which he made a series of fluid, continuous steps around his opponent in order to control the battlefield. Tiny Forest seemed to practice a hard variation of Mantis, which meant that Wushi might be able to get away with being aggressive. He'd still need to be cautious, since most variations of Mantis were famed for their variety of redirective techniques. To the sorcerer's surprise, Tiny Forest was actually the first to attack, coming at him with a flying back kick. Wushi darted underneath it, letting the other pony slide off of him. A quick turn revealed a hoof heading straight for him. Like a dancing dragon, the unicorn fluidly moved beneath the pegasus' attack, counterattacking with a hard shove to the other pony's barrel. This was a hit with the foals. "Notice how fluidly he moves, how he bends around my attacks. What kind of style to we call this, my little ponies?" Wushi and Tiny Forest traded a few attacks, each one testing the other's resolve to commit to an exchange. "Soft!" answered a few confident foals. "Very good," said the teacher as he locked one of Wushi's forelegs into place. A strike hard enough to leave a hoof-shaped bruise came from the pegasus, landing with a thud on the unicorn's withers. "And our Mantis style is a--" Before the pegasus could continue his lecture, Wushi twisted, rump checking the monk and throwing him off balance. With another one of his graceful dips, the unicorn quickly lifted and rolled the startled pegasus off of his back, depositing him with a thump onto the ground. He received a round of polite applause, including some from Tiny Forest. "Hard style," Wushi remarked, finishing the pegasus' sentence. The next set began in much the same way. The exchanges flowed like conversation, each pony getting to know the other through the way he fought. Wushi was strategic and methodical, never once stopping his circle-trotting, and using the motion as a means to deliver attacks. His teacher had taught him well, but this time, Tiny Forest got the better of Wushi. When the sorcerer attempted to counter a sweep kick with a sidelong jumping foreleg strike, the pegasus once again locked the leg, this time forcing his opponent to the ground. It went over well with the foals, but not with Wushi. He was through playing around with this guy. At the start of the next set, he attacked with a feint. Tiny Forest held his hooves up in a position to redirect and strike, but the opportunity never came. Instead, two stone hands burst from the ground and flipped the pegasus over, called forth by Wushi's horn. Cries of foul and giggles alike erupted from the audience, but Tiny Forest quieted the foals. "No fair! Magic isn't kung fu!" A little filly in the front gave Wushi a very severe pout. "Kung fu is hard work over time to refine a skill. I would say it is kung fu." Wushi smiled at her, flipping his cue over his withers. "B-but it's not martial arts," she whined. Several of the students seemed to agree with her, none of them unicorns. "What about it is unworthy of being called a martial art?" to Wushi's surprise, Tiny Forest was actually defending him! "It takes discipline and concentration. It comes from within. Wushi's horn is as much a part of his body as his legs, his tail, or his ears. He's not going to abstain from magic just because I'm a pegasus." The little filly seemed at least partially satisfied. A unicorn colt raised his hoof. "So how come us unicorns are bothering to learn boring old stuff like Mantis style when we could be doing the stone thingy he just did?" Wushi eventually broke the 'stone thingies' to allow Tiny Forest to move. "That's a very good question, Bao!" The pegasus rolled his neck. Without warning, Wushi found himself to several chi strikes within the space of a second. He collapsed on the courtyard like his legs were made of jelly, his horn sparking uselessly. "That's why!" One prana from Wushi and several apologies from Tiny Forest later, the unicorn was on his way BACK down the stairs in search of Ping. Apparently, he'd already seen the fellow. Ping was peaceful even by High Path standards. He didn't like sparring or practicing martial arts, and preferred to get his exercise by doing chores rather than fighting or practicing forms. Wushi eventually found the pony doing some weeding in one of the gardens down at the ground level. "Hello," the monk said as he worked. "Hi," said Wushi with short breath. "I really hope you're Ping." The monk, a pristine white pegasus with a shaved mane and a black tail, paused in his work. He sat down and peered at Wushi curiously. His scalp bore the familiar marks of ordainment--nine burn marks caused by incense, performed to show his dedication to the ascetic lifestyle. The unicorn didn't realize he was staring at them until the monk spoke up. "I'm Ping. Were you looking for me?" "Y-Yes." Relief washed over Wushi. He wasn't sure what he'd do if he had to go up those blasted stairs again! "I'm here to help with preparations for the Lantern Festival." "Oh, good!" Ping smiled and stood up. "What's your name?" "I'm Studious Wushi." "Nice to meet you, Wushi. I'm so glad you came along! I didn't think I'd be able to get all of this year's baking done by myself." He beamed at the sorcerer and bowed. Wushi returned the gesture of greeting. "Baking..." He tried to sound enthused about it. Ping was more receptive than his humble demeanor would imply. "Is something wrong, Wushi?" "No, nothing's wrong. I had simply imagined that I would be helping to write some of the riddles the High Path half of the celebration is so famous for." He scratched the back of his head nervously. "Riddles? Oh, Abbot Cheung has written those for as long as I can remember. Besides, making the sweet dumplings is a lot of fun! They're like tasty little snowballs." He smiled sweetly at the sorcerer, melting his resolve to complain just a bit. "Well... if you say so." "Great! The kitchen's just up the stairs--" "Bah!"
Chapter 3Wushi collapsed, sitting down as soon as he made it into the kitchen. "Why does this temple have so many stairs?" He wiped his forehead with a hoof, panting and taking a weary look around the kitchen. It was pretty modest, about what one would expect for a High Path temple. The stone floor was, thankfully, very cool and smooth. The kitchen was adjacent to the main hall, so at least the cook wouldn't have to walk a ridiculously long way to serve dinner. Ping just shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. I guess we just value the journey more than the destination?" "I can tell." Wushi rolled his neck slightly. "So, what's first?" The monk smiled and gestured with a wing to a large tumbler that looked a bit out of place in the kitchen. "It's quite simple! You make the dough, and I'll make the filling. Then you use that tumbler to keep the dough moving so it doesn't settle, and I roll the filling up into little balls. Then I dip them into the dough 'till they get nice and big, and there you have it--sweet Lantern Festival dumplings!" "How do I go about making the dough? I've never really... cooked before. At all." The most inroads Wushi had made in the culinary department was the occasional grilled daisy sandwich, and he still had trouble getting the right consistency, even though it was his go-to recipe. Ping waved a wing dismissively. "That's okay, Wushi. See the rice flour beside the tumbler?" There were several bags on the floor. "Just mix that with water 'till it's just right. If it's too sticky, add more flour, and if it's too dry, add more water. It takes a bit to get it right, but once you do, all you have to do is keep it moving. You can do it!" The monk smiled warmly at Wushi. It didn't sound so hard. Using his horn, the unicorn levitated the ingredients into the mixture. Ever the scholar, Wushi simply went with what he felt was a logical balance between flour and water and went from there. Testing it with a hoof, he found it was far too dry, so he added water in meticulously measured increments until he found it to be satisfactory. "Don't forget to keep turning the tumbler, Wushi." Ah, yes, that was right. The device began to spin under the guidance of the unicorn's mental grasp. "Wow," commented Ping. "We'll be done in no time with that magic of yours." "It's not exactly what I imagined I'd be doing on the first day of the job," he truthfully replied, keeping the tumbler going as he watched Ping cook up a batch of the sweet filling. "The first day of what job?" asked Ping. "I'm the new court sorcerer," Wushi attested. "Oh, congratulations, Wushi! And may I say, you have a very auspicious cutie mark for a sorcerer." Ping nodded to the dragon on Wushi's flank, poring over a scroll. The mark had appeared on the unicorn when he realized as a colt that he wanted to be a powerful magician like Wo Long. "Thank you, Ping. If you don't mind me saying so... yours seems a bit unorthodox for a monk. What is your special talent?" The white pegasus bore a curious mark. It looked to be a burning piece of joss paper whose fumes were an unusual shade of blue. Ping seemed a bit hesitant to answer, going so far as to cover his cutie mark. "I can speak to spirits." "So can everyone else, on Ghost Day," said Wushi, continuing to churn the tumbler. "Not just ancestors, and not only on Ghost Day. Ever since I was a little colt I was sensitive to... well, spirits of any kind. Lost souls, other people's ancestors... spectres." He shivered, nearly dropping a ball of filling. "People treated me differently. They meant well, but foals pick up on that kind of thing." "Is that why you decided to become a monk?" "Yes." Ping continued rolling the filling up into little balls, though at this point it seemed like he was trying to occupy himself with the task rather than enjoy it as he was before. "The monks don't treat me any differently, and I learned ways to refine my talent here." Wushi watched the sweet filling dip in and out of the rice dough, coming out thicker each time. Ping's white hooves probably had plenty of that dough on them, though it was hard to tell. "Were you picked on for your talent?" "No, not at all. Mediums are a very respected part of our culture, and I'm quite proud of it, even if ghosts still frighten me a little. There's no greater feeling for me than helping a spirit move on, or putting somepony in touch with their ancestor. It's just that..." The pegasus paused, peering over the filling balls he'd made thus far. "I wish I could change the way people treated me. So many people just 'handle' me. Do you understand?" He dipped a few more treats into the tumbler, holding them in for long enough to give them an ample coating, then darting them out quickly. Wushi observed that Ping had the speed of a warrior, even if he didn't use it for combat. "I don't think I do, but I'd like to." "Really? I had you pegged for Low Path." "I am Low Path." "Your empathy surprises me, Wushi." "Call it that, if you want to. I call it making an informed judgment." Ping canted his head in confusion for a moment, then smiled for the first time since they'd started talking about his special talent. "Okay," he said with a little laugh. "I guess, being 'handled' is... It's everypony being nice to you in a really fake way. They don't know you, but they know you're a medium, and they just assume you'll send a spirit after them if they don't show you the proper respect. In the temple, it's different. I use my talent to help when I'm needed, same as anypony else. It's a part of who I am, but not all I am." "I see." "So what are you going to do now?" Ping's smile faded into a neutral expression as the question left his lips. It went without saying that he was worried Wushi would somehow treat him differently. "I'm going to keep making these treats until we're finished," replied the unicorn. "It doesn't look like we have much longer to go." "That isn't what I meant." "Say what you mean. Be direct." Ping bit his lower lip. "You're not going to... treat me differently?" "No. I'm not in the habit of giving undeserved accolades." The pegasus paused, making a few of the treats too big. Looking at them awkwardly, he placed them with the others. He supposed those few would have to be saved as treats for really tough riddles. Returning his gaze to Wushi, the pegasus cracked a smile. "Thanks, I guess." "Of course. You'll always get a fair assessment from me." Some time passed without either of them saying much. Perhaps within fifteen minutes or half an hour, they'd made a truly impressive amount of treats, an amount worthy of the capital city's celebration. Ping managed to get into a decent rhythm with Wushi, who occasionally needed to add more flour and water as the treats were dipped in. It wasn't long before they'd used up all of the supplies. "That should take care of it," said Ping. "Really?" Wushi sounded almost disappointed. "Yeah," the pegasus responded with a nod. "I know it doesn't look like enough for the city, but generally we make enough to cover the initial rush and then continue making them through the festival. Most of the revelers shy away from the riddles after the first hour or two of the festival." Wushi stroked his chin with a hoof. He didn't think he would at first, but he actually enjoyed himself. Still, he had perhaps spent too much time here. He did still have a mission to do. The Emperor had said that all stories had a seed of truth. Was he trying to affirm the unicorn's suspicions without being too direct? Perhaps, Wushi thought, he was meant to come to the conclusion on his own, without the Emperor's help? "Ping, I should get going soon, but I have a question. It's important." "What is it, Wushi?" Ping wiped his hooves with a dishcloth. "What's the oldest spirit you've ever spoken with?" "The oldest?" The white pegasus touched a hoof to his lower lip, trying to remember. "I don't know, exactly. Some of them have been pretty old. It can be dangerous to talk to the older ones if they're not honored ancestors." "Why is that?" "They're old, so they're powerful, but they're also not ancestors. They don't have anypony to remember them, or anything in the living world to serve as a monument to them--no shrines, or in some cases not even a grave. When spirits aren't remembered they get sad. And then they get angry, and it twists them up inside." Ping frowned in such a way that Wushi almost felt the emotion himself. "When ponies get that way, they can lash out at people. Imagine what a centuries-old spectre with putrified chi can do." The sorcerer nodded grimly. "So, if I wanted to safely speak to a pony from the Jade Warlord's time, I would have to find someone's ancestor from back then." Ping quirked a brow curiously. "Yes, but the Jade Warlord is a folk tale." "I'd like to see how true that really is." "Well, I'd love to help you, but how would we find an ancestor spirit from that long ago? Scholars have been trying to find relics from that time period for years." Wushi, a scholar himself, gave a shrug. "I don't know, but I know where to start looking. It just so happens the pony that can help us is also helping with the festival this year. I need to go see him anyway to see if he needs any help. It wouldn't be much to leverage his assistance in return for mine." Ping gave that some thought. "Leverage doesn't sound like a nice word," he mused. "Maybe not, but if that's what I need to do to get his help, then it's acceptable. Come on, let's go." "You want me to come with you?" Ping offered an excited smile. "Yes, you're useful." The pegasus' spirits dimmed a bit. "And perhaps I'm evaluating the advantages of a friendship." "...I'll go tell Abbot Cheung." Wushi's old enemies, the stairs, seemed to have their fangs dulled this time around. Perhaps it was a psychosomatic effect induced by Ping's company. He'd have to look into that later. "His name is Jiejan, but he'll probably insist that you preface his name with his title. He was promoted to a Minister last month and he's very proud of it." Ping nodded. "I'll keep that in mind. What does he do?" "He oversees taxes and trials for Shanliang City." "For the whole capital city? That must be a stressful job." Wushi chuckled. "I don't know how he does it. Jiejan is... one of a kind, I'll give him that." Ping stretched his wings a bit as they walked. As the reached the next level down, he gave a respectful bow to Tiny Forest, who received a scowl from Wushi. "Is Minister Jiejan your friend?" "I've known him for years, but I don't know if I'd call him my friend." The pegasus frowned. "Why not?" "We only know each other because of how often he delivered reports to the Emperor before his promotion. Besides, I don't know if I'd call anypony my friend." "Is it because you're Low Path?" Wushi nodded as the entrance to the temple grew nearer. "Yes, that has something to do with it. We generally don't have an interest in things we can't define in concrete terms. Friendship is one of those things." "But you are... evaluating the advantages." "Yes. It's always best to make an informed decision. If there's some kind of intangible advantage to having sincere friends, as you put it, then I'd probably decide in favor of the idea." The white pegasus smiled, content to leave the matter alone for the time being. The two stallions made their departure from the temple with relatively little fanfare. Life went on inside the walls of the temple just as it did inside the walls of the Empire's capital city. The monk found, as the two of them approached the Ministry of Certainty, that he rather liked the way the sorcerer treated him. It was a little prickly, but his honesty was refreshing, as was his open-mindedness. It was almost like kindness, in a convoluted Low Path way. Wushi, on the other hand found that Ping's simple mannerisms and easygoing nature made him a most... inoffensive pony to be around. Yes, he didn't dislike Ping. "Here we are. I hope you're ready to jump through some hoops." The pegasus brightened. Games? "Figurative hoops, Ping."
