Twinned Destinies: A Cultivation Progression Fantasy

She found a nice flat slab of ice, bathed in moonlight, in which to admire herself.

Her Demon Limb drew her eye first. It was said to be the locus of demonic energy, like a human’s heart—to kill a demon you only needed slice off the Demon Limb. Hers was her arm, sleek and leanly muscled, ending at these little curved claws—like talons of a bird of prey, but smaller. It would’ve been nice if she could retract them, but it seemed she’d need to get used to wearing gloves and long sleeves.

She scratched at her skin in idle curiosity but it didn’t break. Like it was made of some wondrous yet-to-be-discovered rubber. She giggled, scratching harder. Not even a mark. It used to be every little stumble brought up a welling of blood.

She turned her arm over, poking at it. What an arm! She had muscles in places she didn’t know were possible. Muscles ran up and down her forearm, for what, she didn’t know.

She never had much in the way of muscle before, but now she was all strung up with it. When she twisted, flexed, stepped, she saw their subtle shifts through her skin. She felt lithe and sinewy and powerful, like a big cat. A creature that stalks in the night.

Before when she scowled or growled no-one took her seriously. She looked too much like a pampered doll, she supposed, something to be put on display, behind glass. They were more likely to ruffle her hair than drop dead in fright.

But now… she did a little turn, grinning fiercer. Yes, yes, she liked this. This was the body of a goddess, a body you could worship. When you saw her, you ought to want to kneel.

***

The elixirs weren’t fully successful.

She found long streaks of black wrapping her, mostly on her backside—she’d thought they were grime or streaks of shadow at first. They ran down the front too, down her thighs, wrapping her right arm like tiger’s stripes.

Then there were the eyes, piercing red, eyes that felt like they could see your soul laid bare.

She took a batch of ink-eye herb and was relieved to see it subside. Only in the right light, at the right angles, would the red come out.

It could’ve gone worse, she supposed—much worse. If the Tartarus Elixirs had worked as badly as the painkillers she might be a slobbering hound-thing right now. She could hardly complain. She felt like she’d been living half-asleep all her life and now she was finally awake; the world came so much clearer, so much brighter.. She thought it was the air, but it wasn’t that, it was the way her body floated about, feather-light and painless.

She hadn’t understood how mean her existence had been, hadn’t truly felt the thousand little aches and pains plaguing human life until she was without them. When she stood it took no effort. When she walked, she walked—no protests from her joints, no need to prop up the body. Moving was like thinking.

***

She was laughing and whooping, bouncing off the walls of the lab, when the first pang of hunger struck.

It sent her crashing, spasming to the ground.

“Fuck,” she whispered, slobbering a little. “Fuck!”

Then a second, and it was impossible to think. She stumbled to her feet, snarling, panting hard. Flesh, she needed flesh! Man—the scent of man—she could smell it, so close… but better, far better and closer still, her own kind.

A demon, small, weak, in a cage.

She leapt for it. But there was a mesh in the way; with one fist she crushed in the steel and ripped it out. The demon lunged, biting for her. She bit back, and harder. She had it in her teeth, in her claws. She ripped out its throat, swallowed its little hand whole, then the rest of it in bloody chunks, barely chewing.

Only after she’d swallowed the tail did she blink.

She was naked, half-covered in blood, and she’d just swallowed a live demon rat.

What?

It had felt so natural, so right—she hadn’t even thought, just moved. The instant that second pang struck she ceased to be Ruyi. She was the hunger; it was all she could think of, an infernal shrieking, drowning out thought.

Why was she so pleased?

It disturbed her, but only because she thought it really should. Before she’d smelled the rat she’d smelled the man.

If there weren’t a rat there, would she…?

But it wasn’t a question of self-control. The urge had snuck past the thinking part of her brain and set her wanting part on fire.

She could see why larval demons were the beasts they were.

She shivered. How often did she need to feed? She really ought to pay Mei a visit soon as she could.

***

It was sweltering hot in the dead of night. She felt like she was melting.

As she traipsed back to her room, she groaned at the thought of wearing clothes. She could hardly stand this as it was. How could anyone think in this heat?

The ground frosted below her every giddy step.

Inside, she scrubbed off the blood and found a compromise.

A tight hanfu, tied off at the wrists and ankles. The trick was she could shove her coolness at its insides, make a full-body ice press. There was nothing for the head, but it was already a vast improvement.

The stronger the demon, the less they were swayed by their instincts—or so it was said. Supposedly the strongest demons looked and acted almost like humans, save for their red eyes and Demon Limbs.

So all this ought to be solved shortly.

***

She had a host of tests she itched to perform. Cognitive tests, physical tests, magical tests—she’d map out every little bit of her powers, how they worked, where they went. She’d know her body like she knew her ingredients.

But first...

She took a breath and launched herself out the window.

She felt like she’d stepped into a dream. A dream where things weighed nothing, and she could do whatever she wished. It was almost like she was a gust of wintry wind, without a body; she made one big easy arc for the great old pine in the yard.

She caught herself on the trunk—simply sank her Demon Claw into the bark, and there she was. Anchored tight.

She wished to yank out her arm, shake off the leaves, stand on a great thick branch, and she did, just like that. Her feet frosted onto it, sticking her. It was so simple. She made a wish, her body made it come true. She was smiling like an idiot.

When a stray branch swung pines in her face she snapped it off and flicked it, and it vanished into the horizon. She stared at the hand that’d done it.

She was a demon—a demon. There were things rippling beneath the surface of her mind, things she scarcely understood, that anchored her to this branch, that made her every movement clean and smooth and frightfully easy.

She was breathing heavy, but not from the exertion. She let her gaze drift out over the vast expanse of rolling fields, here and there dotted with mansions, the distant Dragon’s Spires, up to the endless field of stars.

She felt like she could pluck one right out the sky if she wished.

She choked up.

But for the first time, it was because she was so happy.

At last, after so long, she had a body she could grow to love.

***

If a noble were to be driving their carriage along the northern end of he Upper City that night, pulled by a spirit stallion, they might’ve heard a whooping echoing through the woodlands.

They might’ve even caught a glimpse of a shadow streaking among the trees, leaving patches of white behind.

***

Ruyi had a bad habit of letting herself get to her own head—she knew this. She tended to thrust herself into situations thinking they’d work out her way.

So she had to remind herself, continually, that she wasn’t actually invincible.

But for once the evidence seemed to support her delusion.

No wonder Foundation-level cultivators were dispatched to take down even larval demons. Since they couldn’t use Martial Techniques, they were meant to be equal to Condensation-cultivators in absolute strength. But their bodies were like those of strong Foundation level fighters, which could make them very tricky indeed. Especially those with bodies built for speed.

Ruyi was pretty sure that was her.

As she bounced from tree to tree she was utterly convinced that if she wished she could leap up and bite off a chunk of the moon.

She was coming up against a wall. The city walls, big and stone, curving around the edges of the forest. She could try sneaking through the gates, or—or—

She leapt from forty strides out. She put all her might into it. For a full breath she floated, blissful and free.

And then gravity remembered her.

“Um!”

The wall rushed up to meet her. Yet all she had to do was reach, and her hand found purchase in the stone. Ledges of frost blossomed at her feet, and where her other hand touched it was stuck frozen to the wall. She slid a stride, trailing claw marks, and stopped.

She blinked.

“I am invincible!” she cackled.

She kicked off and flipped over the wall. As she fell she felt no panic; instead she dived like she’d seem some fish do, graceful and arched, and slipped cleanly into the western stream.

The water was meant to be near freezing—it felt just right to her. She emerged giggling, soaked through.

Right in front of a boy in a watchman’s uniform holding a lantern, looking like he was about to faint.

They stared at each other. It was hard to say who was more shocked.

Then he said, “Halt, in the name of the Emperor!” And leveled a nasty looking spear at her.

She ran.