Fates Parallel (A Xianxia/Wuxia Inspired Cultivation Story)

Lee Narae kicked her feet idly as she stared up at the clear skies above. She was lounging on some sort of plush cross between a chair and a bed that only someone absurdly wealthy could have come up with, much less placed outside in a courtyard. What would happen if it rained? There weren’t any enchantments to protect it, so they probably needed servants to move all the furniture inside. Maybe the royal family was so rich that they just let it rot and replaced it as needed. Come to think of it, did she count as part of the royal family now?

“Hey, Haeun, are we sisters now?”

Nearby, Haeun was busy working on some talismans—always so diligent. She glanced up at Narae with a bemused look.

“Were we not before?”

“Well, sure, metaphorically or whatever—sisters in craft studying under the same master. But now we’re like...actual sisters.”

Narae was Yoshika’s sister, and now that Eunae was Yoshika, so was Haeun. That made them sisters because what else would you call your sister’s sister? Narae’s logic was flawless.

“Not really? More like cousins, at most, and even that’s pretty tenuous. Legally and by blood, we have no relation whatsoever.”

“No, because we’re both Yoshika’s sisters.”

Haeun pursed her lips.

“I see where you’re coming from, but in that case Yoshika is something more akin to a half-sibling. I’m related to her through Eunae, and you through Jia, but Jia and Eunae are not themselves related.”

“They’re literally the same person.”

“Through cultivation, yes—but we’re discussing heritage. In fact, by that metric you’re not related to Jia either.”

Narae sat up and raised a finger to argue, then grimaced and flopped back down into the lounge chair.

“Shut up.”

“Why are you so concerned about this, anyway? I didn’t think you put much stock in blood relations or heritage.”

That was a good question, but Narae didn’t have a good answer. She was mostly just bored. The weeks leading up to their graduation exams had been a hectic blur, and then there was all the excitement around Eunae’s ascension. The ‘adults’ were so busy with the succession and Goryeo’s sudden integration into Jiaguo’s empire that the ‘kids’ were forgotten. Nevermind the fact that Narae was already eighteen!

Maybe she could get Yoshika to give her a role in the government or military. Actually no, that was a terrible idea. Her sister would definitely force her to earn the job fairly and then she’d be stuck with the actual responsibilities of office. Pass!

“I dunno. What about you? What are you going to do now that you’re not being groomed to take over as queen?”

With Eunae ruling, Haeun was also free from the responsibilities of office, but she didn’t seem too enthusiastic about it as she pursed her lips and propped her chin on one hand.

“I’m not sure. Strictly speaking, I don’t think my trajectory has actually changed. I’ll still need to continue my training, learn how to lead, and produce a few daughters.”

Narae blinked.

“Woah, who said anything about having kids? There’s no way big sis is still going to make you do that now that she’s in charge, right?”

“Who else is going to do it? Min has her hands full as prime minister, mother has already met her obligations, and can you imagine Misun as a mother?”

“Ancestors, yes I can, and I hate it. Okay, but that doesn’t mean you have to.”

Haeun shrugged.

“Why not? Even immortals perish, and the Seong line has to continue somehow.”

Did it, though? Haeun was right when she pointed out that Narae didn’t care for bloodlines or heritage. Sure, she loved her own mother, but not because of blood. Jung was Jia’s mother too—no matter how they both insisted otherwise—and Narae didn’t think her sister’s bond with their mother was any less valid just because it was adopted.

Conversations like this one reminded Narae uncomfortably of the gap between her and Haeun. Regardless of titles or status, they came from different worlds. To Narae, family were the people who stuck by you—caring for each other through good and ill, and protecting each other no matter what. To Haeun, blood was everything. Noble clans, spiritual bloodlines, pride and ancestry. Family was more than bonds and relationships—it was a legacy that had been built over thousands of years, and she had a responsibility to uphold that legacy.

Narae hated that. Why should she care about some dead people from hundreds of years ago? What had they ever done for her? Haeun was her sister, blood relations be damned, and she wanted her sister to be happy. To be herself, instead of shaping her entire life around some predefined idea of what she was supposed to be.

“Haeun, be honest with me—what do you want to do? Like, if you weren’t a princess at all, had no obligations, no responsibilities, and all the time in the world, what would you choose to spend your time on?”

She furrowed her brows, looking down at her work, then back up at Narae.

“I’m not sure I entirely understand the question. That hypothetical presupposes a lot of counterfactuals that—”

“Haeun! You’re too smart to be that dumb, you know what I mean, just tell me.”

The princess sighed, her ears and tails drooping.

“I don’t know. This is all I’ve ever known. I just want to make my family proud.”

“We are proud of you, Haeun! You’re too smart and talented to waste your life trying to be a perfect little doll to represent your clan.”

“And what grand ambitions do you have, beyond wallowing in unearned luxury and hiding in our master’s shadow?”

Narae bit back a response, taking a breath to cool her head. The girls had lived together as sisters for five years, and they’d been best friends long before then. Being so close meant that they could be vulnerable with each other, but that wasn’t always a good thing. When tempers flared, those weaknesses and insecurities became weapons to use against each other.

One might be tempted to think that Haeun and Narae got along well, since they were such close friends. They had a reputation in the academy for being nearly inseparable, but the truth was that they fought quite often. The arguments never lasted long, and they didn’t hold grudges, but they could get downright vicious with each other.

This time, however, Narae resolved to rise above it. To set the petty arguments aside and focus on what really mattered. Because this did matter—perhaps more than anything they’d ever fought about. It wasn’t about winning or losing the argument, it was about supporting each other when they needed it. Haeun was scared—her life had taken an unexpected turn, and the future that had been so neatly planned out for her was thrown into chaos and uncertainty.

Yoshika had her own problems to worry about, so it fell to Narae to be the sister Haeun needed.

“I don’t know what my future has in store either, but I don’t think that’s a bad thing. I want to see the world. To get stronger—strong enough that I don’t need big sis’ protection. Strong enough that I can go wherever I please, and do whatever I want without fear.”

“Tsk, you may as well declare that you intend to become a goddess.”

Narae shrugged.

“If that’s what it takes, why not? One day, I’ll be stronger than Yoshika, but before that I just want to live my life and enjoy it to the fullest. I want to be happy, Haeun, and I want you to be happy too.”

It was a bold and audacious claim, but Narae stood by it. She’d sworn an oath to herself as a child, and she still upheld that oath. Maybe she had gotten a little too used to the privileges afforded to her by her relationship with Yoshika, but Narae had never once forgotten about her far off goal of independence.

Haeun huffed.

“Then why do you mock my goals?”

“Because they aren’t yours, Haeun. You never let yourself want anything except for the things other people want for you.”

“And how are you any different, hm? Are you not pushing your ideals on me right now?”

That was different! Narae couldn’t articulate how. She wasn’t as smart or as eloquent as Haeun, but she could see how her friend was suffering under the burden her family had put on her ever since she was a child.

“Haeun, I’m not pushing anything on you. If all you want to do is make babies and raise children for your clan, then I’ll be right there behind you to be the cool aunt that your daughters all secretly love more than their own mother.”

Haeun narrowed her eyes.

“How very supportive.”

Narae ignored the sarcasm dripping from Haeun’s words and went on.

“But I don’t think that is what you want. For as long as we’ve known each other, practically all you ever talk about is what other people want from you. Responsibilities to your clan, meeting Yoshika’s expectations, impressing ‘Big Brother Dae’ on your test scores—you never let yourself be anything other than a princess of Goryeo.”

“I am a princess of Goryeo!”

“But you’re also Haeun! I know you, whether you like it or not. You’re the princess who invented an entirely new kind of magic instead of going along with what her tutors forced on her. You’re the princess who snuck out of the castle because she was excited to meet someone her own age and wanted to make a new friend.

“You are more than a princess, Haeun. If you weren’t, then we’d never have become friends. I’ve seen you hiding behind that facade, looking for opportunities to come out and show yourself to the world. This is it. This is that opportunity—please don’t waste it. I don’t want to lose you.”

She was crying. They both were. Why was it always so hard to put thoughts and feelings into words? Narae envied Heian’s ability to just communicate her feelings directly.

“Then what am I supposed to do?”

Haeun still didn’t get it. Narae ruffled her own hair in frustration.

“Argh, you don’t have to do anything, Haeun. That’s the point! You don’t need to decide right now. Ancestors, we’re immortals! It’s not too late to explore who you are and who you want to be. Go on a journey, become a teacher at the academy, get married and start a family—it doesn’t matter, as long as it’s what you want.”

“I can’t get married. I’m—”

“Haeun. Your sister, the literal Queen of Goryeo, has two wives and a daughter in Jiaguo and that’s only counting Eunae. You can do whatever you want.”

“That’s not the same. They’re not legally...”

Narae crossed her arms and gave Haeun a stern look that told her exactly how much she cared about the legal technicalities of Eunae’s relationships. They could go straight in the garbage along with bloodlines and heritage.

“Stop trying to pick apart my arguments and listen, Haeun. You know that Yoshika isn’t going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do. All I’m asking is that you don’t force yourself.”

Haeun sighed.

“Maybe you’re right. It’s just hard to imagine myself taking selfish actions. Those things you mentioned were when I was still just a child, but they gave me the things I hold most dear. I don’t know if I still have the capacity.”

“That’s ridiculous. If someone as old as Jianmo can still act like a total goofball then I’m sure you’re capable of tapping into your inner child.”

“I’m sorry...are you telling me I should act...less mature?”

That wasn’t really how Narae would put it, but honestly?

“Yes! You don’t need to be the perfect model princess! Your sisters certainly aren’t, and you could learn a lot from them. Live a little! Be selfish, be spoiled, be yourself—whoever that ends up being.”

Haeun bit her lip, mulling it over.

“I’m willing to try, I suppose. But on one condition.”

Oho! Already showing a bit of willfulness! That was a good sign. Narae beamed happily.

“Sure, what is it?”

“If I’m going to entertain the idea of loosening up a little, then you need to commit yourself to being more mature. Maybe I can be a little too rigid, but you need to learn to act your age.”

Narae’s expression dropped. Haeun had turned things around on her in an instant. She averted her eyes and coughed, failing to hide the blush creeping up her face.

“I’ll think about it.”