Now, let us turn our gaze further eastward.
Warning: Death and weird, supernatural stuff.
Oracle Bones
Xia tilted her straw hat down when the sun glare began to bother her eyes as she strolled up the narrow dirt road towards a small village in the distance.
She had been walking for many days, now. It did not bother her much as she spent most of her time traveling from one region to another to visit her children. They were getting stronger as the years went by and, while she was proud of them, Xia was also concerned at how much they disagreed with each other. Each one believed he or she was most suited to governing the others – her eldest son, Zhou, was being especially willful and had even been so disrespectful as to turn his own mother away when she came to see him.
Of course, considering her present condition, he was probably acting out of petty, childish jealousy of the nation Xia was carrying inside her.
Her hands drifted down to the growing bump on her stomach beneath the red fabric of her dress. It was for her youngest child's sake that she was journeying this far afield. She did not want to risk her purpose being discovered or anything she might learn getting back to her older children should it prove too distressing.
The scent of springtime blossoms wafted on the breeze and Xia heard the gentle burbling of a small mountain stream. She passed by a few humans on her way, mostly carrying farming tools or steering cattle down to the fields which they had sown further downhill where the land was actually serviceable for raising crops. The humans smiled and nodded to her as she passed, perhaps sensing who she was – Xia had noticed that pastoral peoples were more attuned to their nations than those who lived in cities.
Finally, she reached the little village with its small, rickety structures, most of which were made of beams of bamboo – though a few of the more important buildings were made of wood (the villagers must have traveled quite a distance to get the timber, as this particular area had a notable dearth of trees). Passing through the unkempt marketplace, Xia looked around for someone reliable to begin her inquiry.
After finding a village elder and asking directions, Xia was pointed towards a modest house in the central part of the village. She walked briskly to the structure and, taking a steadying breath, brushed aside the covering over the doorway and entered.
Xia immediately found herself engulfed in a heady cloud of incense. It was near impossible to see, save for thin slits of light passing through openings between the bamboo walls and the flickers of flame on the incense sticks. Not able to find her way easily in the fog, Xia found herself bumping into clanking, jingling objects which dangled from the ceiling – likely talismans or ceremonial gear of one sort or another.
"Hello," Xia called into the gloom. "I have come for a reading. I have brought payment-"
"I know why you are here," a raspy voice answered. "Come forward. You have nothing to fear from me."
Xia approached with a deep apprehension despite the assurances from the human. She reached out a hand through the smoke as a precaution and managed to navigate to the back of the house, steering herself around a bamboo screen which served to separate the little corner from the rest of the structure. A shriveled old woman sat before a small hearth, her wrinkled face scrunched up as she meditated. Her snowy hair was twisted into long braids beneath a cloth cap and her soot-smudged robe stood in dark contrast with the bright rows of necklaces she wore.
"Please," the old woman said, not opening her eyes. "Take the stool, there, to sit on. It will be better for you in your condition than kneeling or sitting on the floor."
"Thank you," Xia said, moving the little stool over and taking her place across from the old woman.
The room was stifling now, as Xia could feel the cloying scent of the incense sticking to her skin and the hot breath of the fire made her start to sweat beneath her heavy layers of clothing.
"I have come to ask for your counsel," Xia said solemnly.
"I already told you, Lady Jiang, I know exactly why you are here," said the old woman.
"But…I never told you my name."
"You did not have to. Nor did you have to tell me you are also known as 'Xia' for our current ruling family, though your true name has been lost in the last thousand years."
Xia tensed as the extent of this human's power became clear.
"You seek to know the future for your unborn child," the woman continued. With her eyes still shut, she drew a basket over and handed it across the hearth to Xia. "Take a bone from the basket and throw it on the fire."
Xia reached her hand into the basket and pulled out a bone, a scapula from a bull unless she was mistaken. The bone had been carved with characters which Xia read as being a single question: 'What will my child be?' She then tossed the bone onto the fire where it steadily began to crack in the heat of the flames. That was when the old woman's eyes shot open and Xia found herself staring into the glassy gaze of near-blind eyes laden with cataracts.
"I foresee a mighty kingdom in your youngest son," the old woman prophesied. "Thousands of years, he shall rule a land united. He shall become a power in the world that few can rival and the legacy of his people shall extend across an ocean."
Xia felt her heart beat rapidly in her chest at the fortuitous destiny of her son.
"But," Xia's spirits began to sink at that one word from the fortuneteller, "I also see much sorrow for him. For though he shall unite the kingdoms under his rule, he shall also bring the deaths of his brothers and sisters. He will be your last child, Lady Jiang, and he will soon after replace even you."
Xia felt her heart shatter at that pronouncement. Her son would destroy her and her other children. She dared not even consider trying to prevent such things from coming to pass. Xia had learned long ago that attempting to escape a prophecy will only expedite it. There was no way out. Her years were numbered.
"He will be alone for many years," the old woman continued. "And he shall take others as his family, though they are not his to claim. And these, also, he shall bring much pain to, though it is not his desire. Ever he will try to act with only the best of intentions, but I see an ocean of blood and tears upon his hands. And many scars upon his body from many ages of betrayals by those he trusts. And he shall sow the seeds of his own destruction, his mind and soul and body rent apart by his own folly. He shall be knowledgeable, but without understanding. He shall be strong, but lacking in compassion. And though spirits protect him, he shall be blind to their presence and counsel."
Xia hadn't even noticed she was crying, at first, but tears streamed down her face like twin rivers. She wished she had never come to this place. It would have been better to remain in ignorance rather than learn such terrible truths about her unborn son.
"And what will his fate be?" Xia asked, pleading, fearful for her son's ultimate doom. "Is he to die as I shall? Will he be totally destroyed?"
"That, I cannot say," said the old woman. "Things have become clouded and I cannot see what lies beyond the next four thousand years. His path twists and turns, always. And I fear most of all for those close to him, as I see a period of madness that could destroy any nations so unfortunate as to be under his control. I am sorry, but that is all I can tell you."
With trembling hands, Xia gave the fortuneteller a small satchel of cowry shells as payment for her services. She was shaking as she rose to her feet and stumbled back outside. The fresh air pierced sharp and cold through her lungs like icy water, as if she were drowning. Her hands came back up to rest on her stomach where she felt her son kick. Where once such a gesture might have filled Xia with joy, now she only felt dread and a sick, churning sensation inside that was more than just the typical queasiness of pregnancy. She feared going back to face her older children, for how could she even look them in the eyes knowing what she did about their brother's destiny to destroy them?
She couldn't continue making excuses when Han arrived to meet her with an entire entourage to escort his 'esteemed mother' to his home for the final month of her pregnancy. Han was a minor state of little note, often bullied by his older brothers Jin and Zhou, but he was devoted to his mother and ensured her comfort in his home.
When the time came and her youngest son was born, Xia watched on in silent guilt as Han doted on his baby brother.
"I will protect him, Mother," Han said. "I promise you, I will make sure nothing bad ever happens to my little brother. Even if I should be asked to give my life for his."
Xia wanted to weep loudly and bitterly at the vow. Such innocent, brotherly love given so freely without comprehension that he would one day be called on to fulfill his oath. Xia couldn't bear to tell Han the truth; even if she did, she doubted he would really understand the direness of the situation. Han had so far remained mostly untouched by war and was not yet as grim and jaded as his siblings.
It simply was not fair.
Qin was battered, bruised, and bleeding as the Han soldiers dumped him into a cell. Over and over in his head, he cursed himself for his stupidity. He had thought he had done everything right. His king was ten-times the leader that Han's was, and yet he had lost. Qin was little more than a child, still, and he was about to die now that Han had seized the empire which Qin Shi Huang had built. Qin still looked back with regret on what he had had to do to his siblings when unifying the kingdoms – he had tried to console himself for years that he had only ever acted in the family's best interests.
Alone in his cell, condemned to either fade away or be executed directly, Qin began to sob. He had so much he wanted to achieve, things he knew he was destined to create. His end couldn't possibly be dying in obscurity in a prison cell. He buried his face in the worn, red silk of his sleeves and grieved for himself until he passed out from exhaustion.
He was awoken sometime later by the creaking of his cell door. Doing his best to wipe the grime from his face (he may die, but he would die looking as respectable as he could), Qin looked up to see his brother Han enter and approach him. Qin shrank fearfully back until he found himself pressed against the cold stone wall of his cell.
Han cut an impressive figure in his fine silk robes of pale blue, richly embroidered with images of dragons, and his dark brown hair pulled up in an elegant topknot. His brown eyes watched Qin with an unreadable expression until, as he drew closer, they softened. Han knelt beside Qin and placed a comforting hand on his trembling brother's shoulder.
"It is all right, Yao," Han said, using Qin's human name. "I will not harm you, Brother."
Qin looked back up at him, but continued to shake in the presence of the older brother he had warred so violently against. Han sighed and, gently, pulled Qin into his arms and held him as the boy once again broke into pained sobs.
"I am sorry, Brother," Qin hiccupped through his tears. "I am so, so sorry."
"Shh, shh, it will all be all right," said Han. "I made a promise when you were born that I would do anything to protect you. I am here to fulfill that promise."
"W-what? What d-do you m-mean?"
"Your kingdom is destroyed, Brother, and, because of that, you will die. But…but I have discovered a way to keep you alive."
"What? How?"
"It will come at a cost, but I am prepared to pay it."
"H-Han? What is going on? What are you saying?"
"You have nothing to fear, Yao. You will be alive and you won't have to remember any of this."
Qin's eyes widened as Han held him tighter and a strange light began to fill the room. Qin clung to Han and began screaming for answers. Why wasn't Han answering him? What was he doing?
No, no, stop, Brother, don't! Don't leave me!
Han China blinked in confusion. What was he doing in this cell? Had he been speaking to someone?
The young boy brushed the dust off his silk robes, hoping the dirt in the room hadn't smudged the pale blue fabric. He banged his fist on the cell door and ordered the guard to let him out as he had to meet with Emperor Gaozu and it was rude to keep the emperor waiting. As he exited the room, Han China glanced back and wondered what he was doing in a cell that had nothing in it but a pile of old, dirty, red silk robes in it.
Author's Note: And thus, our old buddy China is born and we all know how that turned out. Yes, in my interpretation, nations can physically reproduce other nations.
'Xia' is the name of the semi-mythical Xia dynasty of China (the first attested Chinese dynasty). As I couldn't really find a specific name for Ancient China, I just figured she would refer to herself by the name of her dynasty (she's actually much, much, much older than the Xia, but it's all I could think of for a pre-unification China).
Oracle bones are an ancient method of fortunetelling in China. Commonly associated with the Shang dynasty which immediately followed the Xia, though it likely had pre-Shang origins. In this case, I decided that it's currently a rural fortunetelling method that has not yet reached the cities which is why Xia had to travel so far.
Cowry shells were one of the first forms of currency in China. Copper coins didn't come about until the reign of Qin Shi Huang, who standardized the currency in unified China.
The Han dynasty seized control of China after the Battle of Gaixia, destroying what remained of Qin control in the empire. I had little knowledge of Chinese history when I first decided to make China the Qin kingdom (though, in my defense, 'Qin' is where we derive the name 'China' from, so it's technically still accurate). So, in order to explain Han replacing Qin as united China, I decided that Qin's brother decided to sacrifice himself to save his little brother using some kind of nation ability to, essentially, swap places with Qin and give his brother a new identity (though it cost Han his life and Qin his memories).