Soul Bound

Eternal Enmity

As the three friends neared the Kite Competition, they could sense the excitement. The field was ringed with spectators, all wearing the colors of their favorite competitors. Hundreds lined the parameters, venturing in as closely as they dared. Anyone following the Kite Fighting Circuit knew that the fighters were not the only ones who could be injured or killed by an out-of-control kite.

They looked around and spotted a large contingent dressed in blue and white. Lan XiChen stood in the center, a wide grin on his perfect face. He had gathered every Lan soldier, guardian, and servant to show their colors and support the Sect's Second Childe. Even Lan Qirin was present, looking dour and out of place. Lan Zhan, Wei Ying, and little Kirin walked confidently forward and made formal bows before the Sect Leader. His frostiness relented a small amount, and he inclined his head in approval. This being the next to last full day in Yiling, the need for further information was not a priority, and the Lans cheered lustily for their Second Jade.

This fact was not overlooked by Xue Yang as he watched, a predatory look in his eye. A Lan, hunh? Another bunch of spoiled, pretty people, so secure in their perfection and superiority. He hated the Sects, every stinking one of them. If he did not have plans soon regarding a Clan called Chang, (the long-held grudge against them had scalded his dark soul for far too long, and it needed release), he would have devised a visit to Gusu. He would have loved trailing them home and deciding on some fun with those petted scions, especially that oldest kid with the gentle smile and kind brown eyes. One day, one day. Today, either killing or scarring that punk who had humiliated Xue a week ago, was his only focus. The brother could wait.

Lan Zhan was aware of Xue Yang's attention, but he turned a contemptuous back to the older bully as if he was not qualified to even notice. He bent down and removed his kite from its carrier. He gently detached the longer, display ta and ran his hand across the surface of the diamond-shaped weapon. 

He whispered in low tones to the object in his hands.

"I will call you Bichen, Yun Baohu Qi; Bichen, Cloud Protector. You must be my weapon until I earn the right to my own sword. Please aid me today." 

He was surprised to feel the fragile network of silk-covered bamboo strips vibrate lightly in response.  Their kinship and spirits had become one immediately. He bowed deeply in response. A murmur of astonishment ran through the Lan contingent as Lan Zhan and his first weapon became as one before their eyes; it was a thing only other Lan were able to recognize and revere. Lan XiChen and Lan Qiren looked at one another and smiled proudly.

Lan Zhan tested all points of attachment, looking for any insecurities at the 4 points of the kite where silk met bamboo. He made certain the spine and spar were strong a showed no stress cracks, and he tested the bridle's tension. Then he removed a pair of golden-tan leather gloves from the sling, glowing from the days of applying sandalwood oil to make them as supple as a second skin. He slipped them over his hands and reached back into the sling to carefully remove the long string spool. Wrapped around it was the vital and very dangerous silk manjha kite string, the sharp edges of powdered quartz glittered wickedly in the bright morning sun. He whispered to the sparking coils.

"My Wei Ying made you to cut, and cut deeply. If needed, do your work." 

The string seemed to smile in anticipation at the determined young warrior. He plunged the sharp end of the spool into the ground at the proper angle and waited patiently until the signal was given by the competition's judge. It was then that he spared a warning side glance at his most desired opponent. Xue Yang grinned thirstily at Lan Zhan. Wei Ying had spoken truth the other day.  Xue Yang wanted only blood today and would stop at nothing to get his string around Lan Zhan's throat. Their enmity was solidified in that split second before the judge called out,

"TAKE TO THE SKIES, GENTLEMEN!"

Cheers followed 50 kites as the flyers dashed onto the field, each handler vying for the perfect updraft to catch and send their darting crafts soaring, each determined to cut the other's strings and be one of two competitors left for the final battle. It was not long before kites were seen, suddenly untethered to their humans and soaring; disappearing from view, followed on the ground by their creators as they dash from the field, desperately hoping to retrieve them, so they could fly them another day. 

The battle waged for hours as the field thinned. Lan Zhan and Xue Yang concentrated on lesser opponents, observing one another's techniques and cutting other kites loose right and left. The two were ruthlessly focused on a final fight between each other, and even the lesser observant people in the crowd began to sense that this was a personal grudge match in the making, and the tension was becoming unbearable. Finally, they faced one another, alone in the field; Lan Zhan's mountains, bisected by a bright blade, Xue Yang's solid black threat high in the air, both holding their territory in the wind. Yuling was scorching that day and the two boys were drenched in sweat. 

Bets were being placed, mostly in Xue Yang's favor. He was a tall boy, almost thirteen and Lan Zhan was only ten. Of course, the Lans did not bet, yet another rule at Cloud Recesses, but Wei Ying, (secretly bankrolled by a surprisingly rebellious Lan XiChen), wagered heavily for his hero. Cold water was hauled out to the combatants and after a 10-minute break, the foes went at it. Xue Yang was a relentless bulldog, striking head-on each time, Always catching the harder, shorter bursts of air. Lan Zhan danced Cloud Protector on longer, less predictable gusts with quick flicks of the wrists, delicate and dazzling.

A heavy down draft suddenly swept the sky and Xue Yang jerk his string down with it. The black kite responded to another jerk to the left, under Cloud Protector, and slid the string sharply under Lan Zhan's right arm. Another jerk and the string wrapped tightly around the forearm. There was a gasp from the spectators and a peal of cruel joy came from Xue Yang's throat.

Lan Zhan froze and glared at the bully.

"I want you on your knees, Lan Zhan. Beg me to spare you .and maybe I will let you keep your arm."

Lan Zhan smiled.

"So far, Xue Yang, you have failed to spill blood, despite your intention." 

Sure enough, Xue Yang looked closer. The white robes were pristine. He jerked harder on the black quartz manjha and there was not even a flinch from the smaller boy. Lan Zhan calmly raised his left arm straight into the air and the white sleeve floated down, exposing a light set of leather armor. The stunned look on Xue Yang's face was priceless. He began to pull on his line, trying to untangle it from Lan Zhan's arm, but the boy in white quickly wrapped the dark kite's manga tighter around himself. Then he deftly switched his string to his left hand and slowly, expertly, maneuvered his own manjha towards Xue Yang, speaking clearly as he did so.

"You see, you need blood more than you need food. You need pain from innocents more than you need water. And you are too stupid to think that it is something I would not recognize."

Cloud Protector's manjha edged closer until Xue Yang was backed up against the grandstand, right in front of the Lan faction. The smaller fighter shot a glance towards them that said, do not interfere, and they stayed straight and still, and watched the scene play out. By then, Xue Yang was immobilized. The stone barrier behind, the light manjha pressed against his chest. There was a tiny movement of Lan Zhan's hand and the manjha gently moved up to lie against Xue Yang's neck. A slight trickle of blood appeared, and the tyrant did not even dare to breathe. Lan Zhan tilted his head slightly and stared almost remotely into his enemy's black eyes.

"Do not come near me or mine again."

Oddly,  Xue Yang laughed. "That's a promise I will never make to you, Lan Zhan."

He flicked his fingers, spared a chilling glance at Lan XiChen, and in a black coil of smoke, vanished. A dead silence covered the crowd.