Chapter 48: Homecoming

Jiangdong Docks

Cynthia spent another week in Shu territory before departing, crossing several thousand li to return home. At long last, she arrived in the riverine Wu Kingdom for the first time since her luckless foray against Luciela during the Southern Expedition. The pain of the journey from Nanman to Shi Ting, and then to Jieting would have been unbearable… were it not for the revelation that her Tai – the man-demon that loved her – desired to make her his wife.

Beyond honour itself, he had made a request that was truly simple and humble. He was of common birth, a pirate whose loyal spirit could not be measured by monetary means. And she, she who was abandoned as a child, and later called a "devil-girl" for the life the Organization had forced upon her… marriage? Family? To live in the arms of a beloved? It had all been a distant dream, a ludicrous fantasy that was accessible only on particularly lonely nights in the dank dungeons and caves she used to curl up within. It had been a flight of the imagination, tapped into only as a means of coping in the face of unqualified despair.

But her time in the Wu Kingdom had proved to the world that even demons deserved – and could find – happiness.

Flora had accompanied her to attend the marriage, eager to breathe the crisp, seaside air of southern China once again. Their shared journey on this long road was testimony to their unbreakable friendship. They had hardly heard of each other before they were assigned to travel to the Middle Kingdom. They first met at Chi Bi, in the midst of a terribly one-sided battle against an enemy with the advantage of numbers and surprise. Since then, they had managed to beat back the Yoma, although the shadow of the Awakened Beings and the even larger shadow of Isley and Lu Bu threatened to cast the realm into a blacker darkness.

After lunch, they had stopped by the harbour, where military and civilian galleons and boats alike were docked. The waterfront was beautiful, as beautiful as Cynthia remembered ever since the Battle of the Red Cliffs. Sailors, seamen and fishermen – the workhorses of Wu – were a common sight, going about their daily business. The wooden planks creaked and groaned as Chinese war boots tapped along the deck. Flora had arrived, clad in her clear blue dress and pure silver armour. Resting comfortably behind her was the one sword that surpassed even a Claymore's size: the fabled sword called Durandal, one that was prophesied to find itself in another hero's hands in the distant future. For now, however, Flora was the heroine. She would wield it, until another proved himself or herself worthy to bear the burdens of the world.

The gulls circled above the wharf and several landed on the junks, squawking inquisitively as Cynthia stopped before Flora. Her eyes met her senior's, and she moved aside in a symbolic gesture of deference. "Miss Flora. I mean, Marquess…"

"Please, there is no need. I sometimes feel that this new rank of mine is flattery at best, and superfluousness at worst." Flora looked outwards at the junks that floated peacefully on the water and smiled. "I have come to treasure and cherish this land. I wish to protect it as much as I wish to protect the people of the Continent. For that, I do not truly need status, or even recognition. All I need…" she drew her massive greatsword and gave a rare, light-hearted smile, her azure armour shining. "All I need is this." She suddenly paused, and although she continued to smile, it was restrained. "Congratulations," she offered quietly.

"I'm sorry? Oh, yes… yes, I am nervous," admitted Cynthia, blushing. "I have never loved anyone so deeply or trusted someone with so much of myself. But I don't want Tai to feel as if I'm giving myself to him out of guilt, the guilt of being part of the reason for his current life as a half-Yoma. I want him to understand that he is beautiful… a beautiful half-demon that I will always cherish more than many other humans."

"Perhaps he still does not understand, despite everything you've told me," said Flora, looking towards the floating junks. "He… and Zilong… none of them have ever lost comrades or loved ones to Yoma or the act of Awakening. If I can, I would protect them from having to endure such a thing: Lord Zhou surely understands this, especially since he is so desperate to suppress his inner Yoma, that he may remain by your side as a human man."

Flora turned to look into Cynthia's eyes. "Perhaps we would make good use of our time to spar with each other," she proposed politely. "It is not sensible, after all, to hurl oneself into war without knowing one's weapon intimately. Would you accept, were I to contest you here?"

A duel by the cerulean seaport… Cynthia giggled. She adjusted her grip on her longsword. "I'd gladly take up your challenge, Marquess."

The two women distanced themselves at an equal space. The immediate surroundings fell silent, and even the gulls ceased their squawking as Marquess and general readied their stances. The waves of the sea bobbed in anticipation, and the breeze soothed the excited auras of the warriors.

Flora invoked her sword's name, raising it in an aggressive high guard. "Durandal," she called, and it began to hum in a manner similar to that of Zhou Tai's broadsword. She shifted forward, advancing towards Cynthia, who kept her weapon aligned in a balanced, low stance.

After a brief visual standoff, the Wu warrior finally obliged. "Excalibur!" she cried, pointing the one-handed sword at Flora. It responded, and a sweltering radiance emanated from the long blade. Durandal shone forth a similar light, although its hue was a deep green – the colour of the primeval forest, of western China. Cynthia's aura was tinged with a flaming crimson, symbolic of the Wu Kingdom's power of fire… of their strength at Chi Bi and at Yi Ling. Immolated in the flames of Excalibur, she charged, preparing to thrust against Flora's guard. Flora intensified her pace and narrowly dodged Cynthia's quicker stabbing attack before swinging down from her right, smashing open a yawning hole in the wooden deck below them. Cynthia leaped up into the air to avoid falling into the saltwater, landing lightly on the port's planks before pivoting to lunge again. Like two comets of pure light, the two aces careened towards each other, their eyes widening as a brilliant kaleidoscope of shining luminosity burst from the blades. They leaped away, skidding along the wooden deck, looking up in amazement as Durandal and Excalibur continued to hum angrily, their enchanted spirits awakening to defend their owners.

Cynthia recovered first and dashed towards Flora, who somersaulted high and swung Durandal in another downwards-chopping motion. In the minute flash of an instant, Cynthia counterattacked with an upper guard, pushing tensely against her. Flora gritted her teeth instinctively as sparks flew from the two legendary swords. The humming grew louder, and as Cynthia moved to slide Excalibur along the flat of Durandal to cut her hand, she flipped forward and landed, riposting and attacking with a decapitating swing. Cynthia weaved past and backed away cautiously as Flora moved to slide her sword into her scabbard. Her right hand shifted for one brief moment, and before Cynthia could fight back, a flurry of blinding, invisible strokes tore across the harbour. The Rising Dragon General gasped and leaped away, her toes landing lightly on an airborne chunk of wood before dancing to another, dodging drawn slash after drawn slash whilst remaining above ground. "Windcutter…"

Durandal's metal was so strong that several large galleons were submerged upon contact, slowly descending beneath the waters as the all-destructive Windcutter ripped the wharf to shreds. Cries of shock and profanities filled the air as the Chinese seamen suddenly found their ships underwater. Flora herself stared at the splintered ships and waterfront, too shocked to apologize to the floundering, cursing sailors and fishermen swimming to shore. It is really as the Grand General said. Thanks to Durandal, my Windcutter is far stronger than it ever was.

She suddenly rolled away as a sudden bolt of lightning singed the area where she stood. Cynthia had landed and Excalibur was humming again. She smiled sweetly. "Don't forget that I don't use a normal sword anymore, either," she said. "Imagine what we could do if we were serious and we tapped into our Yoki." She steadied her sword's pommel with her left hand and pursed her lips, invoking Excalibur again. Another charge of electricity jolted from the tip of its blade and surrounded Flora in a matrix of lightning. But before it could attack from all directions, Flora quickly executed her Windcutter again and dispelled the crackling energy with several well-timed cuts. Already, her entire right limb ached from the greatsword's impressive weight – almost twice that of her previous Claymore.

Cynthia slowly lowered her arm, and Flora slid Durandal completely back into its scabbard before releasing its handle. Silence descended upon the duellists as they concluded their spar in good sportsmanship, in recognition of each other's strength and the unnerving power of the two swords. Clearly, there was much more to come – but anymore would have put the sailors' lives at risk. Already the women had earned their enmity for unwittingly destroying their ships. Enough was enough.

"Still… that was a rush," admitted Cynthia breathlessly. "Amazing."

"Certainly, it was a spar that put many of our very struggles against the Yoma to shame," breathed Flora. She beamed. "But I've bought enough time now, so let us conclude this."

Cynthia blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Miss Cynthia's wedding is in the evening. Due to the constraints that Lord Zhou suffered during his time away from Jiangdong, it was only today that he managed to complete the arrangements." Flora blushed. "And he requested me, as your close friend, to entertain you whilst he made the final touches to his home at Jiu Jiang. By the time you arrive there, it should be nightfall, and he will have everything in place."

"Oh, that silly Tai!" cried Cynthia, her warrior persona dropping away and replaced by the personhood of the eager, slightly anxious bride-to-be. "Why did he not ask me to come and help with him?"

Flora's smile faltered. "Chinese marriage ritual relies on constant rapport and interaction between the families of bride and groom. But as you have no family…" She lowered her head, looking away. "As he has confided in me, your marriage has not been initiated in accordance with tradition. He could not send you a request letter, for you have no family to assent to it. You have not received a gift letter, for he cannot present gifts to nonexistent kin. All he can do tonight is give you a wedding letter… that will accept you into his hearth and home. In other words, Lord Zhou did not wish to hurt you by reminding you of the familial formalities of the ceremony."

"… Is that so." Cynthia looked down, tears suddenly stinging her eyes. She unconsciously stroked her hair. "And him?" she asked, her voice cracking with emotion. "What… what of his family?"

"He has none. He is the only one that survives his clan. He knows only the benevolence of Sun Quan, and the love of his new wife, Cynthia Zhou." Flora's eyes shone. "Please forgive that man. Go to Chunju tonight in the bridal jianyu my attendants have prepared for you." She smiled. "And then you can show him just how silly his way of thinking is."

Cynthia nodded and placed a hand to her left breast, an intense heat spreading throughout her body.

You big dummy… you're hopeless.

I will make tonight your happiest night ever. I will make you my new Lord, truly and forevermore.

*

Early evening. Xia Cai, Jiu Jiang district

After his exploits at Jieting, Zhou Tai found himself back in the hometown where he was born and raised. He had returned from the market, where all the local townspeople hailed him as a hero. He was the man who represented the pride of Jiu Jiang, and was well-known and well-loved amongst the populace. From the bazaar he had bought, at the insistence of the vendors, discounted peonies and ceramic vases, several lanterns to decorate his house with, crimson drapes to cover the windows, and a reasonable quantity of good food and wine. He decided to walk home, his arms full of his new purchases. Along the way, a band of four bubbly children bounced beside the admiral, giggling and pleading for him to play with them. Despite his fearsome, intimidating appearance, they did not hesitate to flock around him, recognizing him instantly as the renowned Wu champion who protected them from the Wei baddies.

"Why do you have so many things with you?" wondered a young, barefoot girl. She reached up with her plump arms, hoping Zhou Tai would hold her.

"I am sorry, Xiao Hua," he apologized. "I am carrying too much. See?"

"We haven't seen you for a long time! Are you having visitors over?" cried a chubby, adorable boy.

"I am sorry, Bi Yu," bowed Zhou Tai. "I will make it up to you – "

"What are you doing tonight? Can we come?" cried another lass in tattered clothes, tugging at his black cape.

He gave a small smile. "I am marrying someone, Mei Li."

"Is she from Jiu Jiang?" interrupted a skinny peasant boy energetically, whose name was Da Ming. He ran beside Zhou Tai, his eyes wide with awe. One day, he hoped to don the same black and red armour, too. "Where's she from?"

"She is from a faraway land," answered the tall man patiently.

"Can we meet her?" cried the four children eagerly. "Can we meet your new wife, big brother Zhou?"

He closed his eyes and nodded. "Of course you can." His little adorers squealed in glee, attaching themselves to him for the remainder of his journey.

He had almost forgotten how good it felt to be home.

After bidding farewell to his admirers, he finally stopped by a modest bungalow, nestled quietly by a roadside on which horses trotted and merchants' carts rolled. It was his wooden cottage, his humble home. He had lived most of his life on the high seas and the Yangtze, and he rarely returned here. Much of his days had been spent fighting by Sun Quan's side, and when the Yoma first invaded China at the Red Cliffs, he never suspected that he would return to his old home for something as important as a wedding. Sun Quan had offered him many privileges and entitlements: on several occasions Zhou Tai turned down his Lord's conferral of a district governor's rank, which would have made him a far more powerful man than he was now. He had also refused to move into a massive residence offered by his grateful master, where his every need and whim would have been attended to by faithful servants and concubines.

He cared for none of that; he did not want it. A divan in a tent under the starry skies was all he wanted for comfort. The simple, sublime taste of a steaming bun with bamboo shoots was luxury enough to his taste buds. Sailing the seas in solitude was all he hoped for, when the morning of peace dawned upon China.

But now…

I wish to take her with me. Would she wish to remain in the cities?

Either way, it was going to be a lonely ceremony. He had not the confidence to invite his King and colleagues to his wedding, nor did he wish to trouble Flora or the Shu allies, although he had sent out tentative invitations nevertheless. Flora had already done him an important favour by keeping Cynthia away while he visited the marketplace and refurbished his cottage. He had spent the day frantically preparing for her arrival, for their feast together, and for the night they would spend together in union. His bedroom had been the most acute problem – oh, it looked so austere when he first peered inside! He had nothing in there save a small wardrobe and an old bed of moderate size. There were no flowers or luxurious chairs, and the spartan stiffness of the bed meant that they would have to be creative in their lovemaking elsewhere around the house. But it was his bedroom that compelled him to visit the markets in the first place. Now, he was ready.

As night rapidly approached, he began his final touches. First, he hurried outside and hung up his red, fragile lanterns by the entrance of his wooden hut, ensuring that the characters of "Prosperity" faced any potential visitors outside. Then, he cooked their wedding feast by himself and to the best of his ability, confident in the realization that his food could never taste as bad as hers. Finally, he returned to his bedroom and placed his peonies into the vases, setting them by his wardrobe to lend the room a floral atmosphere. He smoothed out the tattered blanket and carefully lighted two candles by his bedside so that the lowly space would seem slightly more romantic and glamorous (although his standards of charm were generally lower than most). He lifted up the brilliant red drapes and adorned them against the cracked walls.

His heart pounded inside his breastbone. Would she be disappointed? Would she accuse him of not taking their love seriously? He scratched his head. Funny. He never cared about these things before. But a long time ago, when he presented Cynthia that flower by the river, something had awakened inside him. And it was of a much more pleasant sort than the one he almost experienced at He Fei Castle.

He did not wish to sleep again.

Gradually, strong footsteps could be heard outside his small house, and the chiming of tambourines and small cymbals too. A shrill male voice rang into the dusk air. "Master Zhou Tai? Cavalier Admiral of Wu! My Lord! The jianyu is here, the shoulder carriage is here! The bride has come! The bride has come!"

Time froze. His narrow eyes widened.

The bride… has come?

"Lord Zhou!" came the voice again, as the cymbals continued to bang away irritatingly. "Is Lord Zhou absent?"

She is already here? This is too quick for me! He stumbled back in a cold sweat, almost knocking over his own candlestick. His right hand could not steady itself, and he clutched at it with his left, only to have the latter begin shaking in turn. He stared down at his gauntlets, meditating briefly to calm his frazzled nerves. Master your senses. Do not panic. I shall not disappoint her.

He blinked. Gauntlets?

No.

No, no, no.

He swore aloud as he realized the one thing he had forgotten – it had never crossed his mind that men do not marry in a suit of armour. He closed his eyes in exasperation and smacked his helmed head in self-hate. He clenched his teeth and banged an angry fist against the dark plates that protected his thigh. How could he have been so inattentive? Why was he still wearing an outfit meant only for war? Had he irrevocably forgotten the peaceful life? Was he destined to live forever as a fashion ignoramus in his own Kingdom? Curses!

But there was no more time. She was here, with the attendants he had arranged for Flora to dispatch. I will apologize to her later. He stumbled out of his bedroom and moved to the tiny parlour. Within seconds, he had rushed to his home's entrance. He slid open his wooden door and peered outside.

The moon was already out. Nightfall had fallen upon the county.

The sedan – the human-powered transport for marriages – had been propped on the ground, and the attendants stood at attention, accompanied by a small band of musicians. Zhou Tai slowly stepped out, speechless. The attendants noticed him and quickly bowed, before brushing aside the tinkling chimes that hid his Cynthia from sight.

A slender hand emerged, and a feminine figure dressed in red tentatively stepped out of the sedan. "Cyn… Cynthia," he breathed. He stretched out his hand –

"Ah… ah!" cried his bride, tripping clumsily over the attendant who held apart the chimes. He was knocked back and fell on his backside as Cynthia stumbled, straining to steady herself on the stone ground. Zhou Tai could not blame her. Her marriage garments were certainly cumbersome, and her Continental heritage obviously had not exposed her to such swathing, enveloping folds of clothing. Furthermore, the matrimonial veil that shrouded her face was surely impractical for one who was foreign to Chinese customs. He quickly stepped forward, his open arms ready to intercept her uncoordinated body. But she seemed to have regained her balance, and her head lowered as he drew closer.

"Tai… is that you? I can't see anything except red in here."

She lifted her veil to peer at him with wide eyes. Her cheeks were as scarlet as her attire. She looked nervous, and perhaps she felt inadequate or unfeminine. But he did not care. Nothing else mattered – not her clumsy demeanour, not even the fact that he had come out to meet his new bride in his military armour. He had fallen in love all over again. "Cynthia," he whispered, looking down at her apple-coloured face.

"Help me, Tai," she pleaded. "These robes… they're getting dirty because I've fallen on them so many times." She took his hands, and her face was shrouded once again. "Can we go inside now?" she squeaked. "I don't want to hang around them for much longer."

He nodded and glanced at the attendants and musicians, who seemed unsure of what he wanted. "You may leave now. Thank you."

"But my Lord, the wedding has barely started. We must perform and – "

"That will be all," insisted Zhou Tai. But it was neither a warning nor a threat. For the first time in almost ten years, he smiled a large smile, a generous grin that caught everyone off-guard. "Thank you," he said sincerely, his quiet voice suddenly not as shy as it used to sound. "Rest your hearts at ease. I will pay you in full." He clasped a surprised Cynthia to him and turned to face his bungalow. His hand moved to lift up her veil again, and their eyes met. "Welcome," he murmured. "I hope my home is to your liking."

She looked up, and her eyes shone with a youthful charm. "It's adorable. Are we spend the night inside this lovely cottage?"

"I'm afraid so – I mean, yes. Yes, we are."

She giggled, completely oblivious to the departing but pleased attendants and musicians. "Why the reluctance? Is it because there are ghosts inside?"

"No, my beloved. It is because this place does not deserve your presence."

She took his hand. "My Lord Zhou. I can't think of anywhere else I'd rather be except in the place you call home. Let us go." She glanced at the hanging lanterns beside his door, which had begun to glow warmly. She snuggled closer, lifting away her veil entirely and allowing her blonde hair to break free.

"Let us go… to where the lights shine."