Synopsis: Pre-continuity fic. This is the story of two children, Ren and Jun, the heirs to a powerful dynasty, stained with blood and marred by betrayal. Unaware to them, their family shares an intimate bond with the spirit world, and the task has fallen to Tao Ren's shoulders to become the Shaman King and restore his family's honor. They are given powerful mochirei to command, and as they learn to harness their mochirei's powers, they begin to realize the untapped strength lying deep within themselves. But will their strength in each other be enough to save them from the darkness of their family's past, or will their father's iron fist tear them asunder? This story delves into Bason's past, as well as the history of the Tao Family and emphasizes the relationship between Ren and Jun, and with their respective mochirei.
Chapter One: Birth of an Emperor
The last time I can clearly remember seeing my father was the day that my little brother was born. I was four years old at the time, still quite new to the world, but becoming aware of its machinations and my place within the grand scheme of things. At the moment, however, my place was to sit still and wait. It had been nearly six hours since my mother, her belly swollen with new life, cried out in utter pain and had been shut into her room by the servants and midwife. So, there I was, sitting patiently and swinging my legs back and forth, my only alleviation from boredom.
I turned my head toward my grandfather standing near the large window, his bald head glistening in the evening light, a chill breeze stirring his crimson robes slightly. It had been snowing earlier, but the sky was clear tonight; the stars winked in the sky like tiny diamonds, as cold and clear as the fresh snow glittering upon the ground. I knew he was gazing at the stars; how often had I happened upon him as he stared out the windows of the manor, as if he might divine some great mystery from the stars. He had been keeping this silent vigil for many weeks now, hoping for some sort of fortuitous sign, I know not for what.
I sighed, sensing that he will give me no answers for the one question burning in my mind: when will I see my new brother? I turn toward my father, thinking perhaps he would be more approachable. Sliding from my seat, I shuffle softly toward the tall man brooding in the dark corner of the waiting room, his body partly hidden in the shadows. His gaze remained fixed on the double doors leading to the birthing room. He stood absolutely motionless, like some stone sentinel keeping watch over the doorway, much like the stone dragons that protected the shines of the ancestors.
Reaching him, I stood there for a moment, waiting for him to acknowledge my presence. His attention remained riveted to the door. Gently, I tugged at his golden robe. He looked down, his face remained as emotionless as a statue. His dark hair was tied back into a severe topknot, adding to his rather menacing appearance.
"Father, is it time yet?" I asked, staring into his dark eyes. They seemed like fathomless pits, and I often avoided staring into them for too long, for fear that I might become lost in their darkness for all eternity.
His brows knit together in annoyance, and he gave a heavy "humph" before returning to his vigil once more. Slowly, I lowered my hand and returned to my seat. I continued to stare at him. Though his countenance betrayed no emotion, I could tell by the way that he pulled at his beard that he was nervous, just like the rest of us.
After waiting for what seemed like an eternity, a piercing wail split the heavy silence and we all turned our attention toward the double doors. I noticed my father stood staring with his lips slightly parted, as if he would speak. The stoic mask seemed to shatter, and I could see the look of apprehension etched across his face. The cry of new life continued for several moments before falling silent once more.
I stood, anxiety causing me to pace back and forth. My grandfather tottered forward, leaning heavily on his cane, and placed a hand on my shoulder, to keep me from fidgeting. The doors slowly opened, and one of the female servants announced, "You can come in now."
I looked at my grandfather, and he nodded slowly. I approached the doorway, waiting for my father to enter before me. For a moment, he didn't move. He blinked several times, his thin face apprehensive. Taking a deep breath, he strode through the door, and I followed close behind. The servant waited until we were all inside before shutting the doors behind us with a soft click.
Remaining where I was, I watched as my father and grandfather marched toward the either side of the large bed where my mother laid. Slowly, I approached her, taking small careful steps. I stood before the foot of the bed and peered over the footboard, placing my small hands on the smooth wood.
My mother leaned heavily on the pillows. Her hair, like raven silk, lay strewn about her face, no longer bound in the fancy, yet confining ribbons. She smiled weakly at me. Despite her disheveled appearance, she appeared far more beautiful than I could ever remember seeing her. I wished she would leave her hair down more often.
"Behold," she spoke softly, gazing deeply into my father's eyes, "your son."
I noticed the bundle held in the crook of her arm. She pulled aside the corner of the blanket to reveal the tiny face of my baby brother. His eyes remained closed, his chubby cheeks slightly flushed. I leaned closer for a better look, but Father reached down and carefully lifted the small bundle into his arms, preventing me from seeing anything. I turned my attention toward him.
This was the first, and last, time that I ever saw my father smile. His lips parted slightly, but the emotion was in his eyes. No longer did they seem as dark and cold as pits, but there was a warmth burning within them, like two sleeping embers.
"What shall we name him?" Mother asked, smiling up at my father and her new son.
"Tao Lian." Father pronounced, his gaze never leaving the baby. "It is a good name. Strong."
"Indeed," Grandfather glanced once more toward the window, the light of the stars reflected in his eyes. "He will be blessed with good fortune. I have foreseen it."
"Jun," Mother turned her blue eyes toward mine. "Would you like to hold him?"
For a moment, I was silent. This was all so new to me. I wasn't sure if I could handle such responsibility; what if I dropped him?
"It's all right." She smiled, as if sensing my anxiety. "Father will help you."
Slowly I nodded as Father knelt down and placed the bundle into my waiting arms. I shifted him slightly into a more comfortable position, realizing that he wasn't heavy at all. I smiled and looked down into his face. Lian opened his mouth and yawned slightly, causing me to giggle. He blinked his eyes open and stared at me, and I gasped slightly. His eyes were like two pools of molten gold, glittering yellow in the darkness like those of a mighty tiger.
"His eyes are so pretty, like gold." I smiled and rubbed at his soft cheek with one finger. Lian reached forward and grabbed onto it, and I smiled all the more.
"Golden eyes?" Grandfather stared hard at the child, a small smile of triumph on his face. "Just as I predicted. The stars have foreseen the coming of the emperor, and they have marked him as such. It is only a matter of time."
"Then he really is destined for great things." Father said, though I was barely listening to the conversation. I could only pay attention to the newest member of my family, my baby brother. "He shall become the Shaman King. Only then will our family's honor be restored."
After a moment, Lian's little eyebrows knit together, and he began to cry. Eyes widened, I feared I had done something wrong.
"Here. He's probably hungry." Mother's knowing smile alleviated my fears. Father took him from me and placed him into my mother's arms. She nestled the baby against her breast, and he began to nurse.
"Mistress Ran is very weary and needs to rest." A female servant materialized from the shadows. "I must ask you all to leave her, now. You may visit with her again in the morning."
Father nodded and patted me on the shoulder, gesturing for me to head toward the doors. I walked forward obediently, listening to the sounds of footsteps and the tapping of Grandfather's cane on the wooden floor. The servant closed the heavy door doors behind us, and they boomed slightly with a note of finality. We all remained in waiting room, unmoving.
"Young Jun, it is time for you to go to bed." Father finally addressed me.
"Yes, Father."
"Please, escort her to her chambers," Father spoke into the darkness and a servant approached him, bowing with respect, before leading my down the darkened halls.
As I followed the feeble glow of his candle, I looked over my shoulder one last time and watched as my Father disappeared into the shadows, his long robes whispering behind him.
That was the last time I ever saw him.
I awoke the next morning, trembling with excitement. I slid out of bed and slipped on a red cheongsam dress with yellow trim and a lace-up front. Standing before the vanity, I pulled my green hair back and clipped it up in the purple barrettes just like Mother had shown me. Last of all, I placed a yellow ribbon on the side of my head with two red balls, like bright little cherries, over my right ear.
A servant opened to door and bowed before entering. "Miss Jun, breakfast is ready."
He held the door opened, and as I walked through as a few more servants entered and tidied up my room. It was strange how the manor seemed to be one big winding maze of hallways and corridors. I often wondered how the servants managed to navigate through the labyrinthine halls; perhaps they carried a map with all the necessary schematics with them? I wandered the halls occasionally, trying to see if I would stumble upon some hidden passage, like in the castles I read about in my books.
As we passed by the dozens of doorways and passages, I was keenly aware of the other servants that comprised the rest of the household attendants. They often stayed in the shadows, almost as if they feared the light. They stood in silent vigil, like stone statues; never speaking, never moving unless ordered to. They were all dressed in clothes of black silk with a red symbol upon their shirts. The details of their faces was difficult to discern, for they all wore hats and a yellow slip of paper was attached to their foreheads. I called them the 'silent ones', to differentiate between them and the other servants. I knew not from whence they came; they had always been here, as if they had been carved from the very stones from which the foundation of the manor rested upon. I never lingered near them long, if I could help it. Something about their presence, their chi, seemed inhuman, and it disturbed me to the core of my being.
Finally, we arrived at the vast dining hall and I was promptly seated in a chair of solid oak and red velvet. I looked across the table laden with food to find only Grandfather, chewing on some white rice and steamed vegetables. Mother and Father were nowhere to be found.
Grandfather looked up and noticed me. He pointed with his ebony chopsticks toward the food the servants had placed before me.
"Eat," he said.
I sat there, hesitantly, and stared into the porcelain bowl filled with some clear soup. I traced the blue pattern at the bottom of the bowl with my eyes, refusing to touch my food. Something was wrong, but I wasn't sure what.
"Why aren't you eating?" I whipped my head up to meet my grandfather's dark eyes staring intently into mine. He looked genuinely concerned.
"Where are Mother and Father?" I asked. "Why aren't they eating with us?"
"Your mother is still recovering in her chambers. The servants are attending to her."
"And Father?"
Grandfather's eyes hardened slightly and he took another bite before answering, "He's busy at the moment and is taking his breakfast in his private chambers."
"Oh." Strange. Father never failed to eat with his family, though one would hardly miss him, seeing as how he rarely spoke during meals, let alone at any other time. But it still seemed odd. It troubled me greatly, eating without him, though I didn't know why.
Finally, I picked up my utensils and we ate in silence under the watchful gaze of the servants and the 'silent ones'.
After we were finished, the servants cleared the table and I slid from my seat, smoothed out the wrinkles in my dress, and left the dining hall. I traveled aimlessly down the corridors, the morning sunlight streaming through the many windows as the 'silent ones' stood erect and unwavering, like suits of armor along the corridor. I hurried past them, my shoulders hunched, though they proved no threat to me.
Eventually I found myself outside the very chamber where I had awaited the birth of my little brother the night before. I stood before the huge double doors made of solid oak, the twin handles, wrought in gold in the likeness of two dragons, glared at me with their ruby eyes glinting maliciously. I brought my hand upward, but quickly snatched it back. The heavy rings were clutched in the dragons' mouths, their sharp teeth bared before them. I had the irrational fear that they might suddenly spring to life and bite off my fingers if I strayed too close.
Swallowing my fear, I took hold of the ring on the right and gently knocked it on the door. The sound echoed hollowly within the empty chamber, and I waited for an answer. Slowly, the door swung open, and a servant peeked through, bowing low to me.
"Good morning, Miss Jun," the servant smiled warmly. "Are you here to see Mistress Ran?"
"Yes. May I please come in?" I fidgeted with the fabric of my skirt, apprehensive about entering the chamber alone. For some reason, it seemed far too sacred for a child like myself to enter without the aid of an adult.
"Of course, Miss Jun. Your mother has been waiting to see you."
The servant bowed out of the way and I walked though, the door clicking shut behind me. Aside from a few servants, the large chamber felt empty. Luckily there were none of the 'silent ones' about, which I was thankful for. I trotted over to my mother's bedside where she lay with little Lian in the crook of her arm, cooing to him.
"Good morning, my precious daughter," she looked up and smiled sweetly at me. Her hair was brushed and gleaming in the morning light, but it still remained undone.
"Good morning, Mother." I leaned over to get a better look at my little brother. He was wide awake and looked about the room with his golden eyes and made little noises of awe and wonder. His black hair was brushed as well, save for a little cowlick on the back of his head that pointed straight up into the air.
I turned my attention to my mother. "How are you feeling?"
"Much better now that I've eaten. Little Ren is doing fine, too." She tickled his chin with her finger, setting him off into a fit of giggles.
"Ren?" I asked.
"Lian is his honored name, to be used on special occasions," she smiled at my naiveté. "Ren shall be his common name, for everyday use."
"Ren." I tried the name out. "I like it."
Ren turned his attention toward the sound of my voice and seemed to babble his agreement.
"I think he likes it, too. He looks so cute." I smiled and reached forward to smooth down his cowlick, but it sprang to attention the moment I had flattened it down.
"I've tried all day to get it to lay down flat, but it's so stubborn." Mother smiled at my futile efforts. "He's going to grow up to be such a handsome young man, just like his father."
It was then that I was reminded of my father's absence. "Father did not come to eat with us this morning. Where has he gone?"
Mother had a pained look in her blue eyes, but the feeling quickly passed as she hid it behind a smile. "He's very busy right now and does not want to be disturbed."
"What's he doing?" My curiosity was piqued, even as a feeling of dread was beginning to engulf me.
"He's within the inner sanctum, communing with the ancestors."
I gasped in awe. I could only vaguely remember seeing the inner sanctum once, long ago. Deep within the bowels of the manor there was a large chamber where the dead were buried and sacred memorial tablets were placed to honor their memory. I could clearly remember the sickly sweet smell of incense and dry decay as candles burned brightly in front of each memorial tablet. This chamber was the heart of the manor, for the ancestors were responsible for looking after and guiding the fates of their still-living descendants.
"What is he doing in there?" I asked, though I already knew the answer. No one entered into the silent sanctity of the inner sanctum, unless it was to petition for advise from the ancestors.
"There are many questions that need to be answered." Mother turned once more to the child cradled in her arms. "Ren's fate rests with their answers."
She fell silent after that and I asked no more questions. I stared at the squirming baby, wondering what was so important that Father needed to speak with the ancestors? He didn't look all that special to me, aside from his golden eyes. But I thought no more of it, leaving adult matters for the adults to worry about. All I cared about was my little brother and how much fun it would be to have a playmate, someone close to my age that I could talk to and teach. But I would have to wait for Ren to grow up before he could respond to my voice and follow my instructions. For now I was content just hold him and coo at him, watching him smile and try to pull at my hair with his chubby little hands.
The days dragged by and I still saw no sign of father. Days turned to weeks, weeks to months. The seasons changed as the winter snows melted and spring returned to the mountains once again. Father remained hidden, my mother assuring me that he was fine. "He's just very busy" or "He's communing with the ancestors" were the only answers ever given to my questions, so eventually I stopped asking. As the seasons changed from the rainy monsoons of summer swelling the rivers to the calmer, drier season of fall, my memory of Father began to slowly fade away. I still knew about him, but certain details, like the sound of his voice or the way his face looked, began to slip away from me, like sand in an hourglass. I rarely though about him, though I still knew he was around, much like the gods that we revered during their sacred days, but don't think about during the others.
Nearly three years had passed and Ren was growing into a fine young boy. From the moment he learned to crawl, we became inseparable. Though mother still cared for him and stayed close to him during his first few years of life, she encouraged me to watch after him and to care for him, as well. We would wander down the halls and play little games of make-believe, pretending to be the heroes in the storybooks that I often read to him late at night. We did everything together: eat, sleep, bathe, and play. I could think of no other way I'd rather spend my afternoons than by my brother's side, and he felt the same.
Little did I know, all that was about to change
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Wow! That was a lot of detail in only six pages! On a minor note, everyone knows that Ren's name in Chinese is 'Lian', and since they are speaking Chinese, that's what they are calling him, but for the sake of simplicity, I will call him 'Ren' for now on. It's Ren's turn to tell the story now! And as his third birthday quickly approaches, things begin to change around the manor. Ren is now given his own room, but he finds an unwelcome guest staying there with him Or perhaps it is Ren who is the unwelcome guest. Read and review, onegai!
