The temple steps above blazed with an amber radiance, as though the heavens themselves had ignited. It wasn't the gentle glow of twilight or the embrace of dawn—it was the unrelenting hunger of fire, licking at the stone with fingers of molten gold.
Shadows danced like restless spirits, cast into motion by the flame's fury, and the air shimmered, no doubt heavy with the scent of smoke and destruction. Each step rose like a rung on a ladder to ruin, bathed in the light of something both beautiful and devastating.
And Monkey Boy ascended the steps, his stride steady, his gaze sharpened by purpose, unyielding in the face of whatever lay ahead. Determination burned in his eyes, a fire that refused to be quenched, no matter the shadows that loomed.
Meanwhile, my mind's heart pounded with a rhythm of unease, a relentless drumbeat of worry. He wasn't himself—not entirely—these past few miles. Something unseen had latched onto him, tugging him forward like an invisible thread, binding him to this relentless march. Even when the sky bled into night, he pressed on without pause, as if the stars themselves demanded he keep moving.
And because he wouldn't stop, I wanted more than anything to leave my stone sanctuary. To follow. To shadow. To try and... steady this fiery storm that had overtaken him. It wasn't just purpose that drove him—it was something darker, something fierce. A captivation so consuming it teetered on the edge of obsession.
But I never got the chance. The final stretch teemed with yaoguai, their wolfish forms bristling with malice as they marked Monkey Boy as their foe. They surged forward, desperate to halt his advance, their snarls cutting through the heavy air like jagged blades.
When Monkey Boy dealt with them, it was different this time. Gone was the calculated precision, the patient hunt for an opening. His movements were wild, more ruthless—unyielding in their ferocity. Each strike came without hesitation, driven by something deeper, darker. He didn't flinch, didn't falter, even when their claws raked against him, their swords slicing across him. He fought as if pain no longer mattered, as if his own body was expendable so long as he reached whatever it was that called to him.
It…frightened me.
As he ascended those flame-kissed stairs, I reached out to him, my voice barely more than a whisper.
"Are you alright, Monkey Boy?"
I knew the words reached him; our connection never failed when I wanted him to hear me with this new skill of ours. My words echoed around me, resonating in the unseen tether that always tied us together. Yet, he didn't falter, didn't even hesitate. His stride remained steadfast, drawn toward whatever unseen force awaited him above.
He wasn't ignoring me—at least, I didn't think so. No, it was something stronger, something unshakable. That pull had wrapped itself so tightly around him that my words were no match for its grip. He was consumed, enthralled, as if the fire ahead burned inside him too.
"Monkey Boy?" I called again. He was nearly at the summit.
"Monkey!" I tried again, this time with more urgency.
But he didn't acknowledge me. Didn't pause. He didn't hear me—or perhaps, whatever gripped him so tightly refused to let my voice break through.
Damn it…
When Monkey Boy reached the top of the stairs, the sight before us stole the breath from my minds lungs—a temple engulfed in flames, its fiery tendrils clawing hungrily at the night. It was too familiar, too close to the words I'd read in the journal entries. The tale of Guangmou plan of setting fire to the temple and the two visiting monks to steal their kasaya, only to scorch everything to ash—Jinchi included.
Why was it burning again?
This temple was different from the others we had encountered on our journey. Its silhouette was crowned by a spiraling tower in the far back of the temple, rising defiantly against the inferno. And at the very top of that tower, something glimmered—an otherworldly light, pulsing like a heartbeat against the blaze.
"He once told me," came a voice from within the flames, deep and guttural, like the rumble of earth splitting apart, "'Out of sight, out of mind is a fool's task; seeing, but seeing through, is what wise men do.' But didn't he turn mad... by what he saw, too?"
The voice broke into laughter, a cruel and echoing sound that seemed to shake the very air around us. Monkey Boy's head snapped upward, his sharp gaze locking onto the sky. There, a cloud of black smoke writhed and twisted, darting through the heavens like a living shadow.
It was him—the man Monkey Boy had fought in the cave! I recognized his voice and that black smoke…
The smoke spiraled downward, condensing in a whirl of dark energy before slamming into the temple grounds. When the haze cleared, a massive black bear emerged, its form towering and monstrous, its laughter still echoing as it solidified. Crimson eyes burned like coals, fixed on Monkey Boy with a terrifying intensity.
Well…that was new…
With a roar that tore through the night like a thunderclap, the bear lunged, its massive form a blur of muscle and shadow.
So, he wasn't human after all—the man from the cave. He was the Black Wind Bear. The one the stories in the journal kept on mentioning, the one the Horseman had warned us about.
The King of this land.
The source of its suffering, the root of all the chaos that bled into this place like a festering wound.
And Monkey Boy…was going to kill him.
The battle that erupted was nothing short of feral intensity. The bear, towering and monstrous, moved with a terrifying grace, its crimson sash around its waist and the beads strung across its massive torso a reminder Monkey Boy wasn't just fighting against a mere bear.
I stayed within the stone, willing my fear to stay buried deep, desperately hiding it from the tether that sometimes let Monkey Boy feel the echoes of my emotions, as well as his. But I wasn't sure if I succeeded. How could anyone silence the lurch of their heart when faced with claws the size of a man, each swipe cleaving through the air like a promise of death? Watching the beast's savage strikes, each one aimed at Monkey Boy, was enough to make even the bravest falter. And yet, he stood firm, undeterred by the looming shadow of destruction.
Monkey Boy didn't waver. His movements, sharper now than they'd been on the trek up the mountain, carried a precision born of purpose. He was no longer merely enduring the fight—he was evading with intent, each dodge calculated to keep him just beyond the deadly reach of the bear's claws.
But there was something else. Each time the bear prowled to the far edge of the temple, coiling to strike but giving us a moment of reprieve, Monkey Boy's gaze would flicker upward—toward the spiraling tower at the temple's edge, toward the gleaming light perched atop it like a beacon.
That was what pulled him. The unseen force that had whispered to him on the road, tugging at his resolve, urging him onward even when the night begged for rest.
And now, I could feel it too—the magnetic draw that bound him to that light. It thrummed through the stone like a heartbeat, a force so consuming it seemed to eclipse the battle raging in front of us.
What…was that?
And when the bear struck, Monkey Boy met its fury with everything he had. His body shifted, his powers surging—his transformations, the invisible strike that cut through the air like a whisper of death, the freezing power that could halt even the fiercest of beasts. He unleashed it all, an inferno of defiance against the monstrous king before him.
But the bear was not so easily subdued. Retreating to the edge of the temple grounds opposite Monkey Boy, it let out a roar that reverberated through the air, a sound steeped in raw, unbridled hatred. Then, as if the flames of its rage could no longer be contained, its massive arms erupted in fire, burning as brightly as the temple itself.
With a thunderous charge, the bear lunged at Monkey Boy, its fiery claws slicing through the air. Monkey Boy dodged, swift and sure, but the inferno that followed was relentless, consuming everything in its path. The sheer force of the eruption struck him even as he evaded the flaming claws, flames wrapping around him like a suffocating shroud.
"Monkey Boy!" I cried, my voice trembling, my connection to him sparking with panic as the fire swallowed him whole.
But as the flames pulled back, licking away into the air, Monkey Boy stood… untouched.
It took me a moment to understand, to catch the faint shimmer of magic surrounding him as he rose tall before the snarling, sneering bear. Another breath passed before realization struck—the Fireproof Mantle.
Yet, the revelation was fleeting, swallowed by the ferocity of the battle that raged on.
They clashed with unrelenting force, each strike carrying the weight of their intent to kill. The bear's roars filled the temple, matched only by Monkey Boy's unwavering resolve. Neither held back, their movements a blur of savage precision, each blow seeking to end the other.
Until…
Only one remained willing to fight.
To stand.
To finish.
Until the other lay defeated.
The bear staggered back, reeling from a devastating blow to the head delivered by Monkey Boy. Blood gushed down the side of his face, pooling beneath his battered and broken form. He shook his head, his body beaten and trembling, but with one final, ferocious roar, his form dissolved into black smoke. The swirling darkness rose into the air, streaking toward the towering spire at the back of the temple.
"You cunning wench…" the bear's guttural voice boomed from within the smoke, "I'll spare your sorry life for today! Fortune is no longer on your side."
The smoke spiraled upward, coiling around the tower like a serpent. Higher and higher it climbed until it reached the gleaming light at the summit. There, the smoke encased the light, swallowing it whole in a suffocating shroud of black.
Monkey Boy took a step forward at the far end of the temple, his eyes fixed on the scene above. A low sound rumbled from him, something between a growl and a snarl, as he watched the light be consumed by the darkness.
"No one will come to your aid. All I need is to take it elsewhere…" the bear's voice echoed again, dark and mocking, as the smoke began to shimmer with traces of gold, "...and rebuild everything anew!"
The laughter boomed across the temple as the smoke twisted and swirled, descending to circle Monkey Boy like a predator taunting its prey. Monkey Boy stood motionless, his gaze sharp, his teeth grinding audibly in his skull as he tracked every movement.
But then, amidst the bear's arrogance and the smoke's relentless dance…
Something changed.
The swirling black began to tremble, spasming erratically, twisting and convulsing as though it were unraveling from within. The golden light it had swallowed began to flicker and surge, forcing its way to the surface.
Monkey Boy didn't move. He didn't make another sound. He simply stood there, silent and watchful, as the chaos above unfolded.
Almost like he was expecting it.
The gold and black smoke coiled higher and higher into the heavens, writhing in agony. The anguished cries of the Bear Guai pierced the air, sharp and guttural, echoing through the night like a mournful dirge. And then, without warning, the smoke erupted—a burst of golden light shattering the darkness, brilliant and blinding.
Shards of radiance rained down, trailing wisps of black like ghostly tendrils, drifting slowly, lazily, as if reluctant to meet the earth.
Down, down, they fell, their descent hauntingly serene, until the fragments slammed into the ground with a resounding force that seemed out of place with the slow descent. The Bear Guai's body took shape once more in the aftermath, his bear form solidifying amidst the settling glow. A guttural grunt escaped him as he landed, the weight of his materialized body trembling the earth beneath him.
"G-great sage!" The Bear Guai grunted out.
He spoke of the Monkey—not mine, not the wild storm of fur and pride I knew—but the Monkey from the tales whispered from the journal in my possession.
Why? Did he hit his head so hard he was confusing my Monkey to the Monkey in the stories?
And the light, no longer tangled in the shadowed coils of black smoke, lay shuddering behind the hulking form of the Bear guai. Its flickers sang of yearning, reaching out in silent invitation to Monkey Boy. And where Monkey Boy stood far across the temple, his restless fidgeting a language all its own. He wanted to move toward it—needed to—but the Bear guai loomed between them, a living, growling wall of defiance.
Or perhaps not growling anymore—no, the beast was groveling now, its once-fierce snarl surrendering.
He had positioned himself between Monkey Boy and the light, kneeling, his massive frame pressed to the earth, bowing low before Monkey Boy. And Monkey Boy—feral and commanding—stalked back and forth, each step a quiet thunder of authority.
"Oh, pardon me, Young Sage!" he corrected himself, the words falling from his lips like brittle leaves shaken loose by the storm, by Monkey Boy.
Young Sage?
"Mercy, Young Sage! Have mercy!" the Bear guai pleaded, his massive frame collapsing further into the dirt, as if his fear had buckled him entirely. "I was but a pawn of the Celestial Court! Given a choice, who would dare to challenge the mighty Wrecker of the Celestial Palace?"
His voice quivered with desperation, each word clawing for absolution, but my mind spun at the edges of his confession. Wrecker of the Celestial Palace? Who was he talking about?
But Monkey Boy was no longer listening. His pacing stopped, and with it, the world seemed to hold its breath. I held my mind's breath. His gaze shifted past the groveling beast to the trembling light beyond. Something in his gaze burned, fierce and unyielding, as if the light itself was the answer to every question he'd ever asked.
He moved then—not with his usual wild, prowling grace, but with a purpose that sang in every step. It was a quiet violence, a declaration that nothing—not the heavens, not the earth, not the begging cries of a pitiful creature—would keep him from that light.
The Bear guai noticed it too, his terror spilling over as his massive body trembled, his head pressing tighter to the ground as if he could disappear into it. His words tumbled out in a frantic cascade, each one drenched in panic.
"Please, Young Sage! Mercy! I was only following orders!"
But mercy was not a language Monkey Boy spoke in that moment. He was fire, he was a storm, and he was moving forward, unstoppable and unrelenting.
At least, until I emerged from the stone, the stone releasing me in an overly dramatic floorish of light. And there I appeared next to the doom and gloom Monkey boy who hadn't even noticed I'd emerged, then I was running forward toward the Bear Guai and stood in front of him, one arm extended out, a barrier between Monkey Boy and whatever onslaught he was ready to unleash on the Bear guai who stood in his way.
No doubt my appearance confused the Bear guai, but he was smart enough to keep quiet.
"Monkey Boy!" I called, forcing strength into my voice even as it quivered, trembling at the edges. He froze mid-step, but his gaze remained fixed, sharp as lightning caught mid-strike, on the light behind the Bear guai—and me. His silence felt so…heavy and unrelenting, but I swallowed my fear and pressed on. "He's begging for mercy. Let him step aside—"
But he moved again, cutting through my words like they were nothing more than whispers on the wind, his stride resolute and unyielding. One foot in front of the other, shoulders slightly bent forward… He drew closer and closer until he…
…walked straight into me, as though I were… nothing…
His sudden presence in my space startled me, my hands flying up to grip his shoulders, solid and unmovable beneath my fingers as my arms pressed back into me. My fingers wrapped around his shoulders, a desperate tether as I struggled to steady myself, my feet skidding against the stone temple floor, to push him back, to anchor him before his fury consumed us both. And he just looked ahead, over my shoulder as he pushed forward. His eyes…devoid of everything except…rage.
Hot, burning rage.
Did he not even feel my touch?
"Stop," I breathed, the word fragile and raw. "This isn't right. You need to stop. Now."
He burned beneath my touch, a furnace of anger and resolve, and I could feel it—his need to strike, to punish, to make the Bear guai pay for standing in his way on obtaining whatever had his complete attention. But I held tighter, my grip pleading where my voice faltered as I pushed back against his rage. Despite everything—the blood that stained the Bear's hands, the lives he had taken, and the shadows of sins I couldn't begin to name—it wasn't right. Not like this. Not when the Bear guai knelt, trembling and broken, his pleas for mercy spilling like water from a fractured dam.
He wasn't innocent but his desperate words lingered in my mind. He was a pawn, a piece moved by hands far greater than his own. Hands that belonged to this Celestial Court, wherever or whoever they were.
"Please," I whispered, though whether I was begging for the Bear guai's life or for Monkey Boy to hold on to what remained of his, I couldn't tell.
Just when I thought I had reached him—when the pressure of his body against mine eased and his left arm began to rise, like maybe he was going to push my hands off his shoulders because he'd felt them, felt me, his stride forward halting—I let out a shaky breath of relief. For a moment, hope flickered, fragile and bright, a candle in the wind.
But his eyes… they never wavered. They remained locked ahead, distant and unrelenting, a force of nature on an unstoppable course. And then, before I could even comprehend it as I looked up to him, relief turned to…betrayal.
A flash of white-hot pain tore through me, blinding and sudden, as my body was wrenched from where I stood and hurled through the air like a discarded doll.
The ground caught me with brutal indifference, my hands slapping against the ground in an attempt to lighten the impact, but instead a deafening crunch split through the crackling firelight around us, the satchel at my side slipping from my shoulder and falling away from me.
The sound of my face hitting the ground was louder than anything—louder than the pounding in my ears, louder than the echo of his fury.
And the pain… gods, the pain…
I'd broken my arm once as a child, and I remembered that physical pain. But this was an entirely different kind of agony. A firestorm tearing through my face...
And it wasn't just the physical that hurt. The physical pain I could manage…
His strike had shattered more than my face. How could he? He...backhanded me...?I was certain my cheekbone had splintered under the force of his backhand. And when my head slammed into the temple stone, I wondered if the other side of my face had fractured too.
The world around me blurred, but one thing remained painfully clear: he had swatted me aside without hesitation, without acknowledgment, as though I were nothing more than an obstacle in his way. A piece of debris to be cast aside on his relentless march forward.
That I meant nothing to him.
But my pain didn't matter. Not now. Not when there was something bigger than my own pain pressing down on my chest.
I'd watched him for weeks—watched as he cut through other yaoguai, their lives ending in flashes of violence that burned like falling stars. Watched as he snuffed out existences without pause, without mercy, without a single thought for the stories they carried. The loved ones they held. The lives they wove with others, however monstrous they may have seemed.
I couldn't take it anymore.
The weight of it all—the endless carnage, the silence left in its wake—it scraped at the edges of my soul like claws against stone. If I could save just one, even this one, who might not deserve it… it mattered.
It had to.
Because every life, no matter how flawed, no matter how fractured, left ripples in its passing. And if I could stop even one ripple from vanishing into the abyss, then maybe the pain searing through my body would be worth something.
It was hypocritical of me, wasn't it? I had stood by before, watching lives extinguish like candles snuffed out by an uncaring breeze. I let so many fall before my eyes, my hands limp at my sides, my voice swallowed by silence.
But that didn't mean I had to let this one die too.
What was one more death, after all? Another soul added to the growing weight of my now realized failures? It shouldn't have mattered. Not logically. Not practically. Why go through this pain?
And yet, it did.
Because one life, even just one, was worth the fight. Worth the trouble. No matter how many I had already failed, this life was still a spark in the darkness, still a thread in the vast, tangled web of existence. And if I could save it, just this once, maybe it would stitch back a fraction of the damage I'd already let happen.
With trembling hands, I pushed myself off the ground, ignoring the sharp, relentless throb in my face. My body screamed at me to stay down, to give up, but I couldn't. Not now. Not when he was closing the distance, his steps a dark drumbeat of inevitability.
I looked up at Monkey Boy—at the storm of rage and shadow that consumed him, his steps had already taken him halfway across the temple grounds—and without another moment's hesitation, I stumbled forward on unsteady legs. Each step sent shards of pain shooting through me, but I didn't stop until I stood between him and the Bear guai.
Again.
Close enough that the beast could've lunged at me, close enough that Monkey Boy could've struck me down again with his staff this time. But I didn't care.
"Look at me, Monkey Boy!" I shouted, my voice breaking.
He didn't stop. His focus was locked, his mind too clouded to hear me, to see me. The same, dark look in his eyes.
Two more steps and he'd be right in front of me.
Two more steps, and if he didn't break free from whatever shadow gripped him, he'd kill us both—me and the Bear guai.
But I knew my Monkey was still in there. He had to be.
He was stronger than this.
"I said, look at me, you stupid, stupid Monkey!" I screamed, the authority in my voice startling even me. It sliced through the carnage, echoing in the firelit air, vibrating in my chest.
And then, finally...
...he stopped.
His golden eyes, clouded and dark, shifted to meet mine for a brief second. To determine my threat to his objective, no doubt.
For a moment, the shadows still held sway, but as his gaze lingered, they began to falter.
…recognition…
Recognition flared in his eyes, a fleeting ember breaking through the tempest of his rage.
His eyes fell lower, trailing down to the angry swell that no doubt consumed my cheek, then to the other side of my face, before lifting back to meet mine. With each movement, the darkness in him seemed to recede, unraveling thread by thread.
The tightness in his eyes unthreading…
And then, it happened.
The change swept over him, slow but undeniable. His stance softened, the predatory tension melting from his frame. The grip of whatever had claimed him loosened, replaced by something I hadn't expected…
…horror…
Complete and utter horror took over his face and twisted it into something almost unrecognizable. It was such a strange thing to see on him—this Monkey who wore stoicism like armor, whose calm was only ever cracked by that sly glint of mischief that lingered at the edges of his slight smiles.
But now?
Now, his face contorted, his lips pulled back to reveal his canines, sharp and gleaming, his mouth curving upward in what might have easily been mistaken for an animalistic snarl if not for the tremble of it.
And his eyes… oh, his eyes.
They burned with a rawness I hadn't seen before, wide and unguarded, like windows shattered in a storm. His storm. They didn't just look at me—they clawed into me, spilling a mix of rage, regret, and something far more fragile. It was as though he couldn't decide if he wanted to run or roar, lash out or crumble entirely as he shook his head back and forth ever so slightly. For a creature so composed, so self-assured, the unraveling of him felt like watching a mountain collapse into the sea—wild, chaotic, and strangely mesmerizing.
His staff slipped from his grasp, clattering to the ground, forgotten.
He lifted the hand he'd struck me with, holding it up as if it were some foreign object grafted onto his body. His gaze fixed on it, unblinking, like he was seeing it for the first time—those strong, calloused, monkey-like fingers now curling slightly, trembling at the edges.
And then his eyes caught it. The smear of red on the back of his hand, drying on his fur.
My blood.
It clung to his fur like a silent accusation, vivid and damning in his eyes. His breath hitched, barely audible, but I felt it in the way his whole frame seemed to shudder under the weight of that single realization. The hand that had wielded weapons, torn through enemies without a second thought, now hung before him as though tainted, as though the act of hurting me had turned it into something monstrous, something unclean.
This hurt more than the sting in my face. Than the momentarily betrayal I'd felt when he hit me. It reached deeper, sharper, carving into a part of me I didn't even know could ache like this.
Crying would only make it worse, so instead, I stepped forward, silent but determined.
My right hand rose, hesitating in the space between us, reaching for his face. His panic was palpable, a tremor that rippled through the air between us. His eyes flicked to my hand, raw and emotional, trembling as they followed its path upward, like he was scared of it, scared of what it meant, his own bloodstained hand falling uselessly to his side. When his gaze returned to me, it twisted again into something so pained, so unsure as eyes glided over the wounds on my cheeks, that my heart felt like it might shatter all over again.
But I held his gaze, cradling it like a fragile flame, sheltering it within the chambers of my heart where it flickered and burned, unyielding.
See me, Monkey Boy.
I froze, my hand stopping just shy of his face, the tips of my fingers just grazing the hairs at his chin. Memories resurfaced—of the time my finger had clumsily plopped into his mouth, an awkward, mortifying moment that would have made me laugh if the pressure of now wasn't pressing so hard. Instead, the memory only deepened the ache, a reminder of how much we'd shared…
…how much we stood to lose.
If I didn't fix this now, moments like that—embarrassing, ridiculous, painfully personal,friendly, moments—would be gone forever.
And I couldn't let that happen.
Not after everything we'd been through to get here. The fragile trust we'd built was too precious, too delicate, to let slip through my fingers.
"It's okay, Monkey Boy," I said, my voice soft, soothing, though it wavered just slightly under this strain. My hand fell instead to his chest, a quiet gesture of reassurance as I stepped closer.
"We're okay."
And I needed him to believe it, even if I wasn't sure I fully believed it myself.
Please, let it be okay. Let yourself be okay, Monkey Boy.
I smiled, a soft curve of reassurance that I wasn't sure reached my eyes. My other hand lifted, brushing aside a stray strand of hair that had fallen across his face in the chaos. It felt like smoothing the edges of this fragile moment. He let me do it, even while those wide, fragile eyes consumed my face, fluttering over every shift I made as I spoke.
Consuming everything in this moment.
"Look at you," I murmured, my voice as light as the touch. "Caring about me. I see that look in your eyes."
I tilted my head, studying him—those wide, horror-filled eyes that seemed caught between disbelief and a self-inflicted torment, looked between my own, back and forth and back again as I spoke to him.
"I see you, Monkey Boy. I see what you think you've done to me, the guilt twisting inside you. But you weren't yourself. And now you are."
My gaze drifted downward, to where my hands pressed firmly against his chest, grounding us both. But his eyes never wavered from mine.
My thumb rolled absently over the fabric of his shirt wrap—the one I'd painstakingly stitched back together after the shadow fight, using a needle he'd fashioned from his own hair.
I let my thumb press lightly against one of the seams I'd sewn, right over his heart. I felt it beat against my hand, wild and unsure. The skin jumped and twitched where I pressed.
"That's how I know you didn't mean it. You care. You always have, even if you'd rather swallow a boulder than admit it."
A small chuckle escaped me, brittle and raw, but I hoped it passed as something lighter. "It's written all over your face right now. You didn't mean it, and I know that. Because you're here now."
I took a slow breath and closed my eyes for just a moment. "That wasn't you. You're more than that rage. You've shown me that over and over, in ways you probably don't even realize. You're someone who cares. Who protects. Who fights for what you believe in."
Even if that belief almost made him lose himself…
I hesitated. Then, with flushed cheeks, I stepped closer, closing the space between us. Close enough, that if I wanted to, I could lie my forehead against his chest. "You don't have to say anything, Monkey Boy. Not like you can," I added, the faintest flicker of humor escaping my lips. "I know. And I'm still here, standing in front of you, because none of this—none of this—changes what you mean to me. What we've built. Don't let it change how you see yourself either. I'm okay. I promise."
I broke a promise before. But I won't break this one.
My eyes opened as I looked up at him again, catching the shift in his expression. The sharpness of horror had dulled, but his gaze still lingered with something softer—guilt, worry, and maybe something else… like I was finally reaching him…
Like maybe, just maybe, he wanted to believe me…
"So don't worry about me," I continued gently. "And don't lose yourself again. I mean, selfish as it sounds, I kinda like this kickass Monkey." I poked his chest for emphasis. "It'd kill me if you started pulling away from me again. I wouldn't mind walking next to the coolest Monkey I know for a little longer—if you'll let me."
The words came out quietly, but they carried every ounce of truth I had, hanging in the air like a bridge I was offering him to cross.
Please cross that bridge with me, Monkey boy…
He closed his eyes, his chest rising and falling with a steady rhythm, though the subtle flare of his nostrils betrayed the battle still raging beneath the surface. Without a word, his hands came up, gently pulling mine away from his chest. The absence of his warmth was immediate, and a small pang rippled through my heart as he let me go.
Did my words not reach him?
When his eyes opened again, the stoic mask was back in place, but there was something alive in his gaze—firelight flickering in his irises, glinting with intention. His movements were deliberate, calm, as he reached behind him, his eyes still remained locked on mine, almost intimately so, and then brought his gourd into view.
I tilted my head, watching him with curiosity as he uncorked it, the faint scent of something sweet and intoxicating wafting into the air. He tipped it, wetting his finger with whatever liquid left it held, and I frowned, confused. What was he—
"Gakh!" I gagged as his wet finger suddenly pushed into my mouth, catching me completely off guard as I took a step back away from his space, my hands flying above my head in surprise. His touch was firm but careful, his finger rubbing against my teeth in a way that was far too intimate for my comfort.
I stumbled back another step as he withdrew, my tongue instinctively darting up to lick my teeth. A faint sweetness lingered on them, delicate and almost floral, like honey. And also, I tasted ash…
That was completely unsanitary! How do I know where he last put that finger…
But then I felt it—the unmistakable sting of something happening beneath my skin. My cheeks tingled, sharp and strange, the sensation spreading like fire through frost.
My hands shot down to my face, gripping my cheeks as my eyes widened at Monkey Boy, who continued to stare at me calmly as he placed his gourd back in its rightful spot on his back.
"What—?" I began, but the words died on my tongue as I felt it. The shallow cut along my cheek, one I hadn't even realized was there, began to knit itself back together. The magic hummed through me, a whisper of life and renewal, until the last of the tingling faded into nothingness.
Both of my hands squeezed my cheeks, squishing them to confirm what I already knew. The wounds were gone. The pain was gone.
Oh. That felt really nice…
"But…" I stared at him in confusion, my fingers still pressing into my face, more than likely making duck lips as I pressed. "I thought normal mortals couldn't drink that?"
"Moistening your lips while wounded won't buy you more time. At least, not enough to make a difference worth noting."
Monkey Boy's eyes flicked past me, sharp and stoic and familiar that had my heart swelling with relief, and I spun around to see the old geezer Keeper shuffling across the temple floor. His steps were slow, like the world had all the time in the universe just for him.
Of course he'd appear after the fight.
"You might want to think twice before letting him go," the Keeper said, his voice dry, pointing at the Bear guai with his cain. "He's already caused quite the mess on this mountain, after all."
The Bear guai's head shot up like a startled animal, his glowing red eyes darting to the Keeper. Then, slowly, deliberately, they shifted to me. His massive frame turned, his bulk shifting with surprising grace, before he bowed—deeply and humbly.
Not to Monkey Boy.
Not to the Keeper.
To me.
"Small mortal girl... please, have mercy on me," he pleaded, his voice heavy with desperation. "Spare me, and I swear on the wind that carries my name, I will trouble you no more."
I blinked at him, my brain fumbling for words, my back going ramrod straight. A creature like him—hulking, deadly, terrifying—bowing and begging?
To me?
"Why are you asking me?" I blurted out, my cheeks burning.
He was talking to me!?
The Bear guai flinched, his great shoulders sagging, (he flinched!) and for a moment, he looked as bewildered as I felt, like he couldn't quite believe he was bowing to someone barely taller than his kneecap. But there he was, prostrating before me, and somehow that made this whole scene feel even more ridiculous.
The Bear guai's red eyes flickered like embers as he lifted his massive head just enough to meet my gaze.
Which wasn't far. I was pretty short after all.
There was hesitation there, a wariness that didn't suit a creature so large, so powerful. His voice, low and rumbling like distant thunder, broke the silence.
"Because you are the one who tempered the G-Young Sage's wrath," he said, each word slow, choosing them carefully. "I have seen his fury, felt it scorch the air, rip through everything in its path. None have dared to stand in its way—none could. But you…" His head bowed lower. "You are different. You stood before him, and his storm broke around you like a tide receding from the shore."
He paused, as though the admission cost him something. "It is not him who decides my fate now. It is you. The one who tamed the roaring sea of his rage."
His words settled, thick and…weird. The firelight around us casting flickering shadows across his bowed form. His next words were softer, almost reverent, as though he were speaking not to me but to the gravity of what he thought I had done…
He got this all wrong!
"You held his rage in your hands, like a flame that could have consumed you, but it didn't. And now, small mortal girl, you hold my fate in those same hands."
He lowered himself fully to the ground, his massive frame folding with a grace that seemed impossible for his size. "For if you can calm the Young Sage's fury, then surely, your will must be as unshakable as the mountain itself."
Ha!
That… almost made me laugh. Outright. Me? Tempering Monkey Boy's fury? As if I were some divine mediator, a walking, talking balm for his chaos. No, I didn't do crap. All I did was snap him out of whatever weird trance he was in—like smacking a stuck clock until it starts ticking again. Hardly an act of heroism.
"You've got it all wrong," I stammered, holding up my hands like I could physically wave away the ridiculous pedestal he'd placed me on. "I—I didn't…" My voice trailed off, floundering under his unwavering stare.
Great. I needed to change the subject before I started blabbering nonsense...like that never happened before...
"Look, no one's going to kill you. Not today. Not from us. So, just… stop bowing to me, okay?"
It was starting to make me feel uncomfortable…
But did he listen? Of course not. Instead, the giant lug doubled down—literally. He bowed even deeper, his massive snout scraping against the temple floor with an audible thunk. The sight of it was almost absurd enough to be comical. Dust and ash puffed up around him, and I half-expected him to start muttering prayers into the cracks of the stone.
"Great," I muttered under my breath, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. "Just what I needed."
"Can you blame him?" The Keeper said as he walked between me and the Bear as he waved his back scratcher around. "You tempered the Destined One's rage—a feat few could even dream of. Out of all the Destined Ones I've witnessed walk this path, this is the first to stop his rampage while being so close to one of his relics. To see it happen… well, it feels almost unreal, if I'm being completely honest with you."
"You mean other Monkeys, right? From Mount Huaguo?" The question slipped out before I could stop myself. I didn't even know why I needed to clarify it, but somehow, it felt important. That, and a small, traitorous part of me wanted an excuse to steer the conversation back about the Great Sage.
And then to other humans with red hair…
The Keeper froze mid-step, his eyes narrowing like I'd just said something blasphemous. With a dramatic spin that nearly made his robes tangle, he hobbled toward me, brandishing his back scratcher like it was a holy relic. He jabbed it in my direction, twirling it aggressively as if that would make his point hit harder.
"I mean this one and his previous reincarnations, you fool," he snapped. "Haven't you learned anything while traveling with him?"
"Reincarnation?" I echoed, my gaze darting to Monkey Boy. He was pacing back and forth like a caged tiger behind me, his golden eyes fixed on the ground, his right hand combing through his hair (that'd mostly grown back. Mostly.).. His brows furrowed in concentration, his body language a clear warning: Not now.
Yeah, I wasn't dragging him into this conversation. Not while he looked like he was debating the meaning of existence.
"Reincarnation of wh—" I started, but the answer hit me before I could finish the question.
The Great Sage Equal to Heaven. The Monkey from the stories.
"If I may, young mortal," the Bear guai cut in, his voice low and careful, trying not to offend.
The Keeper whipped around to glare at him, his expression a mixture of disgust and irritation that could have curdled milk. He shook his head in disgust.
"To help clarify for the mortal I am indebted to—"
Enough of that already! I wanted to scream, but I bit my tongue. If I had to hear him grovel one more time, I was going to lose my mind.
I didn't even do anything except…talk!
The Bear guai's voice rumbled low as he continued, "The Destined One is more than just a mere Monkey. He is the reincarnation of the Great Sage, the Monkey King himself. The one who defied the Celestial Court, who shattered his chains. His spirit, undying and unrelenting, takes this journey again, destined to face trials that only he can endure."
The Bear guai dipped his head slightly, yet again, a flicker of reverence in his crimson gaze. "He carries the burden of his past and the weight of his future. That is what makes him the Destined One. And why his path is unlike any other."
It made sense now, in a maddening, forehead-slapping sort of way. Like tripping over an obvious truth that had been staring me in the face, smirking all the while.
This Great Sage smirking smugly…
The yaoguai all seemed to recognize Monkey Boy, reverent whispers trailing after him like autumn leaves caught in a gale. Some had even dared to claim he'd truly returned—legend stepping out of myth, larger than life, and twice as infuriating. And the bear guai, in his boisterous candor, had said as much back at the cave, his voice had been heavy with conviction: he'd always known Monkey Boy would return.
As if it had been a certainty, as inevitable as the sun rising.
I glanced at the bear, whose broad shoulders sagged under the Keeper's disapproving headshake. But the bear guai was talking, and I wasn't about to let the opportunity slip away. My curiosity, insatiable as ever, coiled tight in my chest, ready to strike.
Folding my arms and summoning the sort of tone that mothers use to extract confessions from guilty children, I tilted my head and asked, "And why, exactly, is he on this journey? What trials must he endure…erm, this time?"
Nailed it.
Or not. I wasn't the authoritative type. You'd think with my acting carrier I'd be better at, well, acting...
"W-well," he stammered, scratching at the back of his neck with one clawed paw, "he's… he's to gather all of Wukong's relics, see? To restore the Great Sage, Sun Wukong. That's… that's the whole point of his journey."
Sun… Wukong…
He gestured awkwardly behind him with a nod of his shaggy head. "The one behind me, this relic… it's one of them. Part of the legend, part of him." His gaze darted toward the Keeper, then back to me, as though gauging how much more he should say.
I side-eyed the Keeper, who had his back to me, listening in on our conversation. He wasn't stopping the Bear guai from speaking…
"As for the trials he's got to endure…" The bear's words faltered, his expression turning sheepish. "I… wouldn't know, per se. That's not exactly my realm, you know? You'd have to ask someone from the court about that. They're the ones with all the scrolls and decrees and whatnot."
He chuckled nervously, the sound more forced than genuine, and offered a tentative bow of his head. Again. "I just… keep watch over what's left. That's all." His tone carried a hint of plea, a quiet hope that his answer would suffice to keep his head firmly attached to his shoulders.
At the very least, this Bear guai was helping in ways I hadn't expected, his answers carefully stitching together fragments of questions I'd kept locked away for what felt like ages. For that, I found myself oddly grateful—a quiet, reluctant sort of gratitude. It wasn't perfect, of course, not when he had done so much harm. But at this moment, he wasn't an obstacle. He was a guide, however flawed, and that was enough.
My gaze drifted to the glowing orb behind him, its light trembling and withering as though it were alive, desperate to be claimed. "And you said you were just a pawn of the Celestial Court," I repeated his desperate words from earlier. "That you were simply following orders? Was this one of those orders, then? To guard this relic from Monkey—the Destined One?"
The Bear hesitated, his great shoulders heaving as he considered telling the truth, no doubt—or maybe just the risk of telling it. Finally, he exhaled a low, defeated grunt. "Yes… and no…" he admitted, sounding rather defeated. "I was talking about… the time I was ordered to… help take down the Great Sage. Afterwards, I was given the relic to look over."
I blinked, caught off guard by the confession. "Why were you ord—" I stopped myself, shaking my head as if to clear the question away. "You know what, never mind. I'll figure that out eventually." Waving my hand dismissively, I pressed on. "I have another question. And please, if it's not too much trouble, spare me the riddles, okay?"
The Bear nodded so enthusiastically I almost felt sorry for him. "O-of course. Whatever you need!" He seemed more than happy to change the subject.
I also wanted to ask him about this Celestial Court, but that might be pushing it. The Keeper, he was letting him speak, but for how long? I had a feeling he'd stop him if he went too far.
"These other Destined Ones who've walked this journey before," I said, my voice sharp, expectant, and a little worried. It was an important question. "Did any of them ever travel with a human? Someone with red hair like me?"
My hand came up to grip my hair I had tied up, showing it to him like he couldn't already see it atop my head.
I held my breath, hope clinging between us like a fragile thread. He hesitated, his eyes scanning me, twitching as though trying to piece something together. "No," he finally admitted, almost sheepishly. "Admittedly, this is the first Destined One I have come across."
…darn it…
"The first?" I repeated. What happened to the others—
I turned sharply to the Keeper, cutting off my own thought. "You said there were other Destined Ones, right? Didn't they also gather the relics?"
And...what happened to them? Didn't they make it this far, too?
The Keeper chuckled softly, a sound so dry and edged it felt like a blade against my nerves. It wasn't the comforting kind of laugh; it was the mocking sort that makes you feel smaller for asking as he turned around to look at me.
"Do you truly believe, after everything you've seen, that all of them would have survived?"
I didn't respond, choosing instead to hold his gaze, waiting for the words he seemed poised to offer. He let the moment stretch before turning away, his ever-present back scratcher spinning lazily in his hand, its movements almost hypnotic.
"Some went mad with their obsession," he continued, his tone casual, almost conversational, despite the dark imagery his words conjured up. "As you've clearly seen. Others lacked the resolve to go on."
He spun the back scratcher once more, its motion a reflection of his unhurried steps as he began pacing in the opposite direction. "Then there were those who grew selfish, their nature… his nature… clawing back at them, no doubt."
His voice dipped slightly, quieter now, though still carrying that air of detached authority. "And there were the ones who simply couldn't endure. The trek broke them, body and soul."
He paused, his back to me, his next words softer yet somehow heavier. "There are many reasons. Too many to count. But the truth is, most died shortly after taking on this journey. And when one fell, another would be reborn to try again."
The Keeper turned his head just enough for me to catch the faintest glimmer of something in his expression—regret, amusement, maybe both. "This path has no mercy. Only inevitability."
"And Monkey Bo-the Destined One…he has to go on this journey? Why?"
The Keeper suddenly came at me, swinging his back scratcher at my shins. I instinctively jumped back, my eyes wide at the audacity. "Did you not hear a single word I said?" he snapped, his tone dancing dangerously close to mocking. "It is their destiny! Does Destined One not translate properly for you? They have no choice in the matter!"
And why don't they have a choice! I wanted to scream back.
…keep your cool, Ember.
He paused, leaning slightly closer on his cane, his eyes narrowing as though trying to gauge whether I truly understood. "The pull is too strong! It's not something they can fight—it's written into their very being." He sighed, spinning the scratcher again, as if the act might help him find the patience he seemed to lack. "No one escapes destiny, least of all them."
"And if they were to try and resist--"
He came at me again, his back scratcher swinging for my shins, but this time I was prepared. I grabbed the back scratcher mid swing, and then broke it over my knee, throwing the remains off to the side and crossing my arms.
"You foolish, reckless girl! Do you have the slightest idea of the treasure you've just destroyed?"
"If it was so important, then maybe you should've tried guarding it instead of playing whack-a-shin with it!"
I huffed, glaring at him, then added, "Be glad I didn't use it to flatten that oversized melon you call a head, you old fart!"
Damn, this wasn't like me. My frustration was getting the better of me. These were Susie words…
"Enough of this! Go grab the relic and get off my mountain! I've had enough of you two kids."
The Old Keeper vanished with all the ceremony of a fleeting whisper, his absence hanging in the air like the faintest echo of incense.
I stuck my tongue out into the empty space he'd left behind, a petty farewell to the aggravating ghost of his presence. For good measure, of course. A faint huff drifted back, so soft it could have been a breeze—except breezes didn't sound exasperated. I smirked. Even vanished, he couldn't help but make his irritation known.
Good. That made me feel better.
The Bear guai lowered his head again, drawing my attention, bowing so deeply it seemed he might scrape the floor with his remorse. His poor nose…how many times now had he scrapped it against the ground?
"I-I'll return to Guanyin to atone for my actions. I'll have the Encaging Band placed on me again. You'll never see me, I promise."
"Encaging Band?"
What was that?
He straightened, a solemn heaviness in his tone. "It's a band crafted to quell my less…desirable nature. The Merciful Guanyin fastened it for me."
The words twisted in my mind, a thread pulled taut with unease. That didn't sit right. I crossed my arms and faced the Bear guai, leaning my weight onto one hip.
"And how does it work?"
"It tightens around my head," he said, almost reverently, "when I've done something undesirable. When I disobey Guanyin's orders, of course."
I stilled, my hands tightening around me, the pit of my stomach churning as though dread itself had slipped into my veins. My eyes lingered on the Bear, recalling every wicked twist and turn that had brought us to this moment. His actions had been cruel, unforgivable. Yet the thought of pain as a leash, an invisible prison wrapped around his very thoughts, felt… wrong.
It wasn't justice. It was control.
But this man—this yaoguai—had caused so much suffering. This groveling display felt less like repentance and more like desperation. And what was stopping him from returning to his wicked ways the moment our backs were turned?
Still, something about this Encaging Band struck a nerve I couldn't name. Who decided what was undesirable? And how far could that decision go? Sounded like a device made to be abused.
I exhaled sharply, the weight of my own indecision bearing down…
"Go back to this Guanyin," I said at last, my voice firmer than my heart felt.
"...but don't let them put that band back on you."
The Bear's head jerked up, his expression caught between hope and disbelief.
"And don't let me hear of you doing anything vile again," I continued, pointing behind me toward Monkey Boy, "Because if you do, I'll sic him on you. Understand?"
Sorry, Monkey Boy. Hope you don't mind.
It was a bluff, of course, but the Bear didn't need to know that. The lie burned on my cheeks, but I held my ground.
"Yes, yes!" he exclaimed, bowing so frantically I thought his head might detach. "Such kindness! Such mercy! Crimson-Haired Lotus, I will not forget this!"
And with that, he dissolved into a swirl of inky smoke, his form spiraling upward into the sky. Before vanishing into the heavens, his voice lingered, faint and reverent.
"I will never forget the mercy you bestowed upon me."
And then he finally vanished, leaving nothing behind in the smoldering ruins of the temple but a pulsing light of this relic Monkey Boy was after.
That all Destined One's were after.
I watched it sway, flicker, and shiver in the haze, as if it were uncertain of its own existence. My gaze lingered for a moment before shifting to Monkey Boy.
He had stopped pacing. His silhouette was sharp against the flickering embers, his head low, weighed down by too many thoughts, his golden eyes glinting with something unspoken as the fire from the temple burned on behind him.
He watched me for a moment…but slowly, (reluctantly? But I must have imagined that), his gaze slide to the light.
Drawn by his focus, I turned back to the shimmering glow just as it began to shudder, its edges rippling and folding inward like a collapsing star. The brilliance pulsed once more before it gave birth to something extraordinary—a bird, fierce and incandescent, bursting forth in a blaze of crimson.
It unfurled its wings in a motion so fluid it seemed like fire taking shape, a hawk-like silhouette with a sleek obsidian head and feathers that smoldered like the heart of a flame, the bird took flight.
But this didn't feel like an ordinary flight—it was a performance, a fiery dance etched into the air with beautiful elegance. The bird carved bold arcs through the smoky sky, moving with the kind of grace that claimed dominion over everything it touched.
Like it owned the sky…
Spiraling around us like a living ember made flesh, it tilted suddenly, sharp and deliberate, before locking its fiery gaze on Monkey Boy.
Monkey Boy didn't flinch. His eyes locked on the bird with focus. When it drew close enough, he extended his arm, a silent invitation. Without hesitation, the bird landed, talons curling against his forearm with effortless grace. Its wings flapping once, twice, then it folded its wings into its sides.
For a heartbeat, they studied each other, a silent communion I didn't dare interrupt.
...
...But I was an idiot, a tired idiot, and curiosity gnawed at me like a hungry wolf. I took a tentative step closer, the soft crunch of ash and broken tiles beneath my feet giving me away.
Two sets of eyes snapped to me—the burning gold of Monkey Boy's and the bird's…dual irises.
Wait, two?
Yes, the bird's eyes shimmered with an unsettling duality, two irises swimming within each orb.
Twin suns sharing a single, dark sky.
"Oh," I breathed, stepping closer despite the sharpness of their stares. "Well, aren't you a pretty little birdie. What kind of bird are you, I wonder?"
It…kinda looked like a chicken…
The bird cocked its head, sharp and sudden, scrutinizing me with an intelligence that made my skin prickle. Before I could stop myself, I reached out—
--because, of course, I did.
"Ah! Darn it!" I yanked my hand back, wincing.
The blasted thing bit me.
"Huh," I muttered, inspecting the faint indentations on my skin. It didn't break through, thankfully. A warning bite. "That's new. Animals usually like me. Pigeons practically flock to me. This one? Clearly not a fan."
The bird's feathers suddenly shimmered, its body suddenly haloed in golden light. It dissolved, scattering like sparks caught in a gust before surging forward. In a blink, the light shot straight into Monkey Boy's chest, disappearing as though it had always belonged there.
His clawed hand hovered over the spot where it vanished, his golden eyes widening just slightly as he blinked down at himself.
I watched, too. Waiting. Wondering if something was going to change in him.
But…nothing happened.
"Well," I asked, breaking the silence. "Do you feel any different?"
He turned to me, his expression fixed in that same furrowed seriousness, his nose scrunched as though something puzzled him. His golden eyes lingered on my face, tracking down to my left cheek... But then he shook his head, a small, sharp movement, as if discarding a thought entirely.
Without another word, erm, grunt, whatever, he turned and walked away, his stride slow but purposeful as he made his way to where his staff had fallen.
I watched him, perplexed, as he picked up his staff off the ground, twirled his staff with effortless grace, let it shrink to a needle, and tucked it inside his ear.
But then I tore my gaze from him and focused on my satchel, abandoned in the chaos a few feet away. As I walked over to it, I noticed dust and ash clung to its worn fabric as I crouched low and opened it, a bit worried some things might have broken when it crashed into the ground.
My fingers sifted through the contents until I spotted the jar of wine Shen Monkey had given me, still unbroken and perfectly sealed. I let out a small sigh of relief.
But then my fingers brushed against something unfamiliar.
Frowning, I pulled it out—a long, polished object I hadn't packed.
As the light caught on its polished surface, I realized what it was.
An intact…
…back scratcher.
A/N: I would like to thank DarkMatter69 again for the awesome review last chapter! I'm happy to hear you find my potrayal of the Destined One to be fitting! With him being a reincarnation, i try to keep some of Wukong's personality intact while also, hopefully, differing in some ways, too.