Fates Parallel (A Xianxia/Wuxia Inspired Cultivation Story)

Yoshika wasn’t sure whether she’d prefer to talk to Void or Do Hye first. The Void Elemental was difficult to comprehend at the best of times, and she still wasn’t entirely sure exactly what she needed to ask of it. Do Hye might be able to provide valuable insight in that regard, but he’d be poisoning her every step of the way with his own agenda.

Of course, he was going to do that anyway, one way or another. It was just what he did.

For better or worse, the decision ended up being made for her. The elementals, despite their failed coup, were allowed the freedom to come and go as they pleased, and often left for inscrutable purposes. They were closely monitored, but even Goryeo’s best analysts struggled to make sense of what they were actually up to.

Do Hye, on the other hand, was kept prisoner right within the palace grounds, and Yoshika was granted permission to visit him at her leisure.

So, for lack of anything better to do, that’s precisely what she did.

Do Hye had an entire structure set aside to serve as his prison. Formerly the Sky Hall—a specialized formation for containing and shielding against the damage of a heavenly tribulation. Seong Misun had modified many of the Sky Hall’s formations, inverting their original purpose and sealing the occupant inside.

As with the original Sky Hall, it redirected any power turned against it back into its own formations—the seal grew stronger the harder one tried to break it. Yoshika recognized some of the research she’d done with Ja Yun being implemented in the formations. Ja Yun had probably shared that research as recompense for poaching Misun’s spells.

At a glance, it didn’t seem like much of a prison. While the hall was surrounded by four sturdy enchanted walls, the hall itself was an open air courtyard, and the entryway had no doors. By all appearances, one could simply walk or fly away without impediment.

In truth, that was next to impossible. The formations constantly sapped away at Do Hye’s strength, making flight unlikely, and whether he tried to leave through the gates or by taking to the skies, the barrier would activate and strike him down.

If one of Yoshika’s bodies were trapped inside such a formation, she’d probably have no choice but to sacrifice it—at great personal cost. If such a structure was built around her core? As she was, there would be no escape. Even the power of the Sovereign’s Tear would just end up being turned back against her.

The wizened old former-deity himself sat in the center of the courtyard. He wasn’t meditating, just sitting there, staring. He looked bored.

As Yoshika approached, he glanced up at her, his eyes lighting up.

“Ah! The lady herself! Or is it herselves? I’m never quite sure how I ought to address you anymore.”

Yoshika rolled her eyes.

“Just address me as you see me.”

He stood up and dusted himself off, the scales along his neck and hairless head shimmering in the light as he came forward to the edge of the barrier.

“Very well, Miss An. It’s good to see you! Good to see anybody, really. I was starting to worry I’d been forgotten.”

“I think after everything you’ve done, forgetting you is going to take us all a very long time.”

“Ah, I suppose so. How’s Dae doing, eh?”

“He’s well. Keeping himself busy managing the new academy and running Jiaguo’s magical research division.”

More like he was Jiaguo’s magical research division, but Do Hye didn’t need to know that. He grinned and nodded his head.

“Good, good! I still can’t believe he sold me out to Hwang Sung and then joined your secession in practically the same breath. Really playing both hands, there, wasn’t he? I’ve never been so proud!”

“Dae is loyal to a fault. Split between his nation, his friends, and his father, it must have been tearing him apart inside. Ultimately, all he could do was try his best to find the best outcome for all three.”

“Indeed, though I hesitate to point out that some of us got a rather shorter end of the stick than others.”

Yoshika put a hand on her hip and looked up incredulously at the old mage.

“Can you honestly say that you don’t deserve this or worse?”

He shrugged.

“I can understand why some might think I do. But you didn’t come here to debate philosophy or reminisce about the past.”

“No, I didn’t. These days I find myself much more focused on the future.”

Do Hye gave her a knowing smile.

“Welcome to my world, Miss An. How can I aid you on your journey through it?”

“I’m not sure, to be honest. First, I have to ask—why did you tell the Seong that I’m planning to become a sovereign? And why haven’t they asked me about it?”

He stroked his chin for a moment, humming.

“Mm, I’ll answer the second question first, as it’s much simpler. Pride. You’re young, untested—at least in the realm of statecraft—and growing fast. That you would have such lofty ambitions as godhood goes without saying, as far as the royals are concerned. As does the fact that you will fail spectacularly.

“You see, Miss An, in the grand scheme of things you aren’t that impressive. Unique, certainly, and undoubtedly powerful for your age. But young talents like you are a known quantity in the world of ageless immortals. You appear in a flash, burn hot and bright, and then disappear just as suddenly. They have seen it before, and they think they are seeing it again.”

Yoshika crossed her arms, frowning.

“It sounds like you don’t agree.”

“I’m agnostic, to be quite honest. I’ve seen what it takes to become a deity—gone through it myself, even. To my eye, you do have that potential. But potential isn’t enough. In my time, I might have given you a one in a hundred chance of making it—quite good odds, really.”

“And now?”

He smiled sadly.

“With the forces of heaven working against you, and competing against a rival with a significant head start—well, I don’t envy your position, to say the least. It’s not impossible that you’ll succeed. Were I in a position to do so, I’d even prepare contingencies for it—you’ve surprised me often enough to warrant it. But if you want my solemn advice—one way or another, make sure that the foundations of whatever you build won’t crumble without your support.”

Yoshika sighed. She didn’t need to be told that. She was already frustrated by how much Jiaguo depended on her. It was going to take a lot of work to get it functioning independently.

“What about the God-Emperor? Is that the rival you were talking about?”

“Indeed. I believe that he has the same ultimate goal as you—to become this world’s sovereign from within by expanding his domain until it is all-encompassing, then ascending straight from demigod to true sovereign in one fell swoop.”

She furrowed her brows.

“What makes you think that’s what I’m planning?”

“It’s the only option that fits, really. It could plausibly work, it’s well suited to your personality and domain, and it’s what I had planned on doing once I obtained the Tear.”

“But you think Qin is doing the same—and moreover, that he’s got a head start.”

Do Hye chucked.

“A rather insurmountable one, I should think. He’s been working his way up for at least ten thousand years. You’ve never met Qin, but I know him—or I did, once. When his ascension was stopped by the divine seal, it would only have strengthened his resolve.”

“Then why is he working with Sovereign Shen?”

He shrugged.

“Necessity, I should think. His failed ascension must have drawn the attention of the divine realm powers. Perhaps they worked something out. Shen Yu must be aware of what Qin is doing, and the fact that he hasn’t put a stop to it suggests that they came to an arrangement.”

“So Qin has the support of the divine realm, half the continent, and a ten thousand year head start? And you think it’s possible for us to overcome that? How?”

“Consider what you just said, Miss An. A ten thousand year head start, and his influence is still limited to merely half of the largest continent. That’s not much progress for such a long time, and his direct influence must be even smaller.”

Yoshika frowned thoughtfully.

“Why so slow?”

Do Hye let out a sharp bark of laughter.

“Hah! Oh, I do miss those Yoshika-isms of yours. Emperor Qin’s progress is not slow, Miss An. Rather, yours is blazingly fast. You’ve got several advantages, but three in particular stand out. First, your method of cultivation. Emperor Qin cast aside body and mind to shape a perfected soul-body from pure divine essence. The power of such a form is immense, but limited.

“Second, of course, is the Tear. Your enemies are biding their time now, but expect to fight for that artifact soon. The wars fought for that little trinket ravaged the entire divine realm for eons. Finally, your domain. Unity, as a concept, is uniquely well-suited to the goal of divine sovereignty.”

“What about Qin’s domain? If you knew him, you must know something about it.”

The former deity scratched the back of his head and grimaced.

“Well...not exactly. I’m afraid I don’t remember.”

Yoshika blinked.

“What? You don’t remember?! You? The great manipulator who’s had his fingers on the scales of fate since literally before history, the mage who invented most of the mental techniques practiced by modern mages, the one who moved the sun and the moon because waiting for an eclipse would take too long. You forgot.”

“Afraid so. And I actually only moved the planet—that’s much easier.”

She leveled a glare at him and he chuckled.

“I’m not sure you understand the gravity of what it meant for me to give up my divinity. Reincarnation techniques are not uncommon, but they aren’t popular, either. It’s an exceptionally poor form of immortality, and the downsides greatly outweigh the benefits.

“Each time I’m reborn, I have to rebuild myself from nothing all over again. I retain my memories, but a mortal vessel can only contain so much. I have to pick and choose—leave the rest behind in caches and journals. But even a jade slip cannot perfectly relay the understanding that true knowledge requires.

“I knew Qin once, but that was lifetimes ago, and I’ve lost much of what I knew.”

It was like Melati. If she lost her core, her hive would retain her memories and produce a new queen with a new core, but something was always lost in the process. Each new incarnation was still Melati, but never quite the same Melati.

She’d once said that she couldn’t even remember what it was like to be xiantian anymore, from her first life—her original awakening. Do Hye had been a god, once. How much had he lost, in all that time?

“Why did you do it?”

“Pardon?”

She shook her head.

“Why stay behind? The other gods didn’t, right?”

“Some did. A few of the great spirits of old were fragments of former deities, but those who took that route lost more of themselves than even I did. Practically suicide, that.”

“And you?”

He took a deep breath, then let it out in a long sigh.

“I wish I could tell you that it was because I held a deep love of this world, and wanted to see it flourish. Certainly that’s how I feel now. My time has passed, and I accept that—but back then? In my prime? I was seething. So close to sovereignty, only to have it snatched away at the last moment by some petty divine politics? Absolutely not! I wanted to shatter the seal, retake my place as the rightful ruler of this world, and then with the Tear in hand, take my revenge on the insufferable bastards that stole my glory away.”

Yoshika pursed her lips.

“So much for that, huh?”

He smiled sardonically.

“Indeed. Now, I think our time here is just about up. You’ll be speaking with Void soon, yes? Don’t trust it any more than you’d trust me. It may not want the same things as a human or a demon, but it does want something, and it will not hesitate to consume anything in its path.”

“I’ll take that under advisement.”

“See that you do! Good luck, Yoshika—genuinely. Of all the outcomes I’ve envisioned, I think I prefer the one where you succeed the most. Well—aside from the one where I’m released from this prison so that I can pursue my own ideal outcomes.”

Yoshika chuckled.

“Thanks, I think. I hope you rot in here forever, but I appreciate the support.”

“Naturally! Do pass on my regards to Dae, will you?”