They travailed for several hours, the deep night gradually fading to an early dawn. The footprints led them on a wandering, winding path across the mountain’s flank, heading slowly uphill but at an acute angle. They found themselves in a shallow valley, the growth so thick they had to slice their way through, cutting apart ancient limbs that stretched out from massive trunks, tangling with their neighbors to create a truly impressive barrier. Then, as pale blades swung rhythmically, a shape loomed out of the gloom, humped and heavily over grown. Working his way right up to one, Zhou Jinhai pulled the moss and vines away, revealing a squat building made of rough stone slabs. It was obvious from the larger mounds that this had once been a large complex of buildings, but almost all had long since collapsed into these giant rubble piles. Picking his way over the small hillocks, Zhou Jinhai uncovered the remains of walls, doors and window lintels, the broken slate tiles of the roofs and even some rotten remains of furniture. After scrambling over the largest pile, he held up a broken shard of a pot, clearly it had once been of great value, the glaze still crisply white, almost opalescent.

Tossing it to Liu Li-Tai, who caught it neatly, he slid down the overgrown mound, landing barely a few feet from his companion and dusted down his pale robes, brushing away twigs and bits of leaf and moss. “Large enough to be a small royal palace.” He said, nodding at the fragment Liu Li-Tai was turning over and over in his hands. “But more likely some nobleman’s summer retreat. It’s not that old either, despite the destruction. Almost looks like it was demolished and then someone forced the forest to hide it.” He frowned, opening his hand for his companion to drop the fragment into his palm, Liu Li-Tai having satisfied himself with his quick examination.

“It’s barely weathered.” Liu Li-Tai agreed, setting hands on hips as he frowned at the seemingly long abandoned complex, that actually wasn’t. Walking over to another of the smaller piles of broken stone, Liu Li-Tai started to pick through the debris, seeking some kind of answer to how such devastation happened. Zhou Jinhai instead started walking around what had once been the perimeter of the complex, finding the remains of a stone pathway that hadn’t been destroyed, merely was covered in forced growth. After he’d completed a full circle and ended up back where Liu Li-Tai was kicking larger stones off the pile to see if anything remotely useful was hidden within, the confused cultivator sighed heavily. “At any rate, the trail we were following continues past this place. We can come back later, but I want to know where that trail goes and who made it.”

Reluctantly stopping his cathartic if useless activity of stone punting, Liu Li-Tai nodded and hopped down off the rubble, pushing a few unruly locks of hair back from his brow as he naturally bent to his companion’s desire. “I’ve no reason to stay here. This mess isn’t going to run off any time soon. Let’s continue our treasure hunt.” His words were light but his tone was concerned. Something felt off, and by the frown marring his partner’s brow, he knew Zhou Jinhai felt it too. But they had a job to do, and they were Liu Cultivators. Few were as equipped as them to handle a crisis in this area.

With no further discussion, the pair of cultivators resumed their trek, leaving the destroyed complex behind as they strode steadily up the mountain, following the faint trail of footprints. Hour after hour passed, and despite neither feeling the strain of the climb, both men felt the wear of keeping their senses on high alert. The forest was eerily quiet, only  a few birds dared call out to them, and they saw no small animals in the undergrowth. Clearly something was happening on this mountain that the local wildlife were avoiding.

One minute they were walking, Zhou Jinhai in front, Liu Li-Tai right on his heels. Then the next each was walking alone, swallowed up in a murky darkness that had simply descended with no warning. Zhou Jinhai didn’t bother turning around, knowing Liu Li-Tai was no longer anywhere near by. Instead, he stopped where he was, drawing his sword in a smooth, silent motion as he flared his aura, filling it with the intent to pierce the unnatural darkness. Whatever space this was, it was not the forest he had been walking through a moment ago. But it was not ‘not’ the forest either. The trees still stood like sentinels all around, but their forms were twisted and misshapen, the branches stretching out like clawed hands seeking to ensnare him. Toes pushed off from the earth as Zhou Jinhai dodged a sudden attack, his body spinning sideways, a flash of white and pale grey through the colourless space. Though he didn’t see exactly what had attacked him or how, just the sense that if he didn’t move, he’d be hit. The killing intent behind the action so sharp and cold that the intent alone was more deadly than any well honed blade. Yet still there was no attacker.

The barren, skeletal forest all around was still. Unnaturally so. Zhou Jinhai forced his aura out further, seeking the edges of this altered space. He had to break free and locate Liu Li-Tai. As the sudden, terrible weight of premonition had pressed against him, heavy and thick. He knew, beyond doubt, that his partner was in dire trouble. Frustration tried to claw at his mind, and fear tried to loosen his control over his cultivation. As soon as he recognised those feelings, he was aware that those sensations were coming from outside himself. Swiftly pulling in his aura and hardening it against the mental attacks, he fended off the physical ones with sharp, smooth motions of his blade, blocking or deflecting yet unable to see his attacker in order to counter. The thick black mist pressed in from all sides, turning the world into a series of overlapping greyscale shadows. Only when objects came in close did they feel real, and he could predict their trajectory, blade raising to divert their movements.

Minutes crawled past, and every second only increased the sense of urgency as Jinhai fought to escape the clear trap they had walked into. He was certain he could hear Liu Li-Tai, the distinct chime of his blade as he struck, and the regular even breathing he knew so well. Closing his eyes, Zhou Jinhai lowered his sword completely, standing in a relaxed pose, ignoring the warnings his senses screamed at him, the gusts of air that tugged at his clothing and hair as physical objects passed by barely a hands width from his form. With his mind settled deep in his center, he let his body move by instinct alone. His sword a glittering arc as it danced, parrying attacks aimed at his vital points, his body swaying or swirling out of the path of devastating blasts that shattered the twisted trunks around him.

The white figure flittered about the battlefield, sword glares flashing out to scythe through the darkness. Powerful blasts of energy exploding from hands and feet to shatter the earth as he leaped, and the branches above cracked and rained down debris as entire tree crowns exploded into deadly wooden needles.

Yet despite the ferocious defense of sword and limb, within the swirling storm of white robes, Zhou Jinhai’s mind was completely calm. Minutes flowed by as Zhou Jinhai focused inwards, sinking down into his Golden Core, a placid lake as deep as it was wide. Gathering up that immense power he bent it to his will, the pattern of a seal formed in his mind, his fingers formed the shape in the outside world and his lips mouthed the incantation. The golden lake exploded, answering the will that controlled it. With a sudden burst of qi that swept outwards from his still flashing form to flatten the twisted trees in a wide radius around him, he broke the previously invisible bindings that had encased him both physically and mentally.

Suddenly he felt daylight once again warming his chilled flesh as sunbeams brightened the skin of his eyelids. Eyes snapping open he saw the forest as it had been previously, natural greens and browns, no greyscale smoke anywhere to be seen. And there, mere meters from him, Liu Li-Tai battled. His opponent wasn’t a phantom, but a real person, though their form was half obscured by a cloud of darkness that seemed to shift and billow, hiding the person within and obscuring their attacks so Liu Li-Tai could only react at the last second. Sweat poured from his brow, his sword was rushed, the usually smooth movements jerky and rough. It was so unlike him that Zhou Jinhai froze for a fraction of a breath. Something was deeply wrong. Relying on his well honed reflexes and instinct, Zhou Jinhai thrust himself into the middle of the fight, blocking a sword slash his partner hadn’t been fast enough to react to. As naturally as breathing the pair fell into sync, blocking and dodging, slashing and spinning without once fouling the other’s attack or retreat. Yet almost as soon as Zhou Jinhai joined, Liu Li-Tai started to flag. At first Zhou Jinhai thought it was because he was still trapped in the shadow world, but a quick glance at his partner revealed the shock of dark blood covering the other man’s fine features. Eyes dulled with pain as blood dribbled from clenched teeth. Something was deeply, deeply wrong.

Redoubling his efforts to keep the attacker’s attention on himself, Zhou Jinhai automatically fended off a thrown projectile with his blade, but instead of sending the item rocketing off into the forest, it exploded on impact with the shimmering swordedge. Thick grey smoke suddenly filled the space where Zhou Jinhai was standing, obscuring his form for a fraction of a second before he shot backwards out of the thick cloud. Instantly his lungs seized up, forcing him to stagger as he coughed up a mouthful of dark blood. Heart blood. Wincing, he spat the thick mass to one side, catching Liu Li-Tai stagger out of the corner of his eye. Blurring back over to attack the unknown enemy with desperate slashes he forced the enemy to focus on him alone. Liu Li-Tai was in bad shape, barely on his feet now as some how, his injuries were worsening at a rapid pace. Even though Zhou Jinhai had kept their attacker from reaching his partner.

A deep pain in his chest made him focus on his inner self for a brief moment between barrages of attacks, and a deep chill sank through him. Poison. Something had poisoned him and it was crawling through his meridians from his lungs, aiming for his heart and more importantly, his Golden Core. The creeping oily sensation was already affecting his qi flow, making breathing difficult. His vision swam and he realised it must have been the powder attack. “Poison in the air!” He gasped aloud, needing to warn Liu Li-Tai so the man could take his own precautions. Taking as deep a breath as he could manage, he lept forwards so fast he was a blur of motion, sword singing as it danced in complicated circles, attacking and defending at the same time as he strove to bring the battle to a close as fast as possible. But their opponent was as  swift and as ferocious as Zhou Jinhai himself, meeting each punishing attack with his own counter. The two traded blows so fast and brutal, that devastating shockwaves rolled over the battlefield, causing massive, ancient trees to shatter into fractured pieces with each attack.

Blood poured from his eyes as Zhou Jinhai fought, red tears that streaked his pale cheeks. His vision was beginning to tunnel, darkness creeping in around the edges, forcing the Liu Cultivator to rely more and more on his aura for the precision timing needed to continue to match the assassin’s speed. He could no longer sense Liu Li-Tai at his side, and knew he was now fighting alone. But the awareness was only at the very back of his mind, the rest of his focus devoted solely to defeating the enemy that had ambushed them. He had to protect A-Yu!

Seconds passed, more trees were shattered or blown apart as the two cultivators fought. Zhou Jinhai’s vision becoming a hazy blur, but every swing or thrust of his sword was still perfect and precise, forcing the assassin to dodge or parry. A lifetime of training and natural born skill coupled with the desperate determination to succeed was all that was keeping Zhou Jinhai on his feet and in the fight. Their attacker bled freely from multiple wounds and seemed to be slowing down, taking more and more damage as Zhou Jinhai’s attacks started getting through to score serious hits in vital places. Suddenly, the shadowy form bolted, fleeing into the forest so fast Zhou Jinhai had no chance of following. Not in the state he was in right then.

Stumbling back to the ground, as their fight had long since taken to the tops of the trees for more maneuverability, Zhou Jinhai staggered over to where his companion lay curled up against the base of a blasted trunk. Sinking to his knees, sword dropping from his blood-soaked fingers, he reached out for Liu Li-Tai. “A-Yu.” He rasped, wobbling slightly as the agony in his eyes threatened to send him into oblivion. He had contained the poison as best as he had been able, using his qi to prevent the deadly powder spreading throughout his system and into his core. It had already eaten into his eyes, bursting the blood vessels so his whites were now entirely blood red. Some had gotten into his lungs and he knew there was lasting damage there, but at least his core and his cultivation had been spared annihilation.

Fingers grasped the bloodied robes of his friend and lover, sinking into the stained, warm fabric as he shook Liu Li-Tai gently. “A-Yu.” He repeated, needing Liu Li-Tai to get up so they could go back to the village. They both needed help, and the village would have at least some herbs, and would be able to send a mortal to Willow Retreat to fetch one of the clan healers. . “A-Yu?” He tried again, losing track of his immediate plans when there was no response from his partner’s still form. “Wake up, the attacker is gone and you need to get up.” He shook the other man again, a bit rougher this time. His eyesight was just a smear of shapes now, blurred into indistinct colours and fading rapidly as the poison rampaged through his eyes, trapped by the blockage of hardened qi Zhou Jinhai had barricaded it behind. Trapping it at the point of entry in order to preserve his cultivation, as the poison’s only goal was seemingly to feed on his energy and his core until there was nothing left.

“Come on Nanyu-Gege….” He wondered why someone was sobbing near by, not feeling the tears rolling down his blood-streaked cheeks as his grip tightened on the cooling cloth under his fingertips.