A Song For The Ages

Two days passed in careful preparation. By the morning of departure, the Red Lotus Mercenaries had divided into two balanced contingents; one tasked with holding their newly claimed influence near Xu's capital, the other assigned to escort the Greenwood emissaries home. Supplies were meticulously sorted into spatial pouches and crates, formation masters inspected and retuned the sigils essence circuits etched into the skyships' hulls, and final defensive formations were tested with care.

The air at the southern gate was thick with tension and excitement, the faint scent of sweat and beast fur lingering from the busy morning. Preparations had ended, and now only departure remained.

Ba Shanyue, arms folded, smirked as he watched them. "Don't get eaten by bears with wings," he called as the last crates were secured.

Jue Qingling didn't spare him a glance, only smirking slightly in response. "Only if they have your attitude."

Ruan Lianhua stepped onto the ship in silence, her expression unreadable. Her movements, like always, were precise and quiet. Feiyin followed a few moments later, his spatial pouch secured at his waist. Inside, compartments were neatly packed; pills for recovery and infusion, salves, talismans, and crafting tools. His completed fire element pill, the vibrant sphere of ember encased in a jade box, was kept near the top, next to the water and wood variations.

Baiyu snoozed around his shoulders, scales occasionally reflecting with flickers of multi-colored light. On the other side, Fenlan, Jue Qingling's crystal-horned deer, walked beside her with ethereal poise. Each step left faint gleams in the air, like stardust floating over morning mist.

The skyships lifted with a gentle thrumming hum, essence arrays flaring briefly as they pulled away from the landing stations. Their ascent was smooth but powerful, the ships banking southward and soaring above the jagged spines of the mountain range. Below, the world fell away into green forests and misty ridgelines.

Stretching far beneath them, beyond the forested lowlands and the last major river, was the massive southern strait; a titanic waterway carved deep through the continent's spine. It served as the fastest and most vital link between the Southern Cap and the Eastern Territories. In parts, it was narrow and flanked by tall cliffs, but much of it spread into an inland sea scattered with jagged islets. Oceanic currents surged with chaotic energy, combining with turbulent weather and whirlpool. Storms often brewed without warning.

Trade ships and flying vessels favored the strait for its speed, but it was far from safe. Pirate groups roamed its skies and reefs; renegade cultivators who had banded together under ambitious warlords and outlaws.

Feiyin leaned near the rail, eyes narrowed against the sun as he looked out over the water. The strait stretched endlessly ahead, its surface a mix of deep blue and foaming white where the currents clashed between jagged islets. "It's rougher than I imagined," he said. "I didn't think inland waters could be so wild."

Maelis stepped beside him, her expression calm. "The strait's always like this. Worse during the high tides. There are giant sea beasts down there too, some from tales older than our kingdoms. Most stay deep, but sometimes they surface. You'll know when they do. The water goes quiet first."

Feiyin raised a brow. "Sounds like you've seen them."

"A few times," she said, her gaze distant. "We forest elves don't travel often outside of our groves, but the strait is a lifeline. Dangerous, yes, but necessary. We cross it when we must reach the East. There are no straight paths through the woods, and even fewer across the mountains."

Calenvar joined them, brushing a leaf etched on his sleeve. "And when we do sail, it's with reverence. The sea is not our home; we were raised with roots and branches. Trees don't shift beneath your feet."

Feiyin smiled. "But you handle it well. I thought you'd be more uneasy."

Calenvar chuckled. "We've trained. And we brought plenty of calming tea."

Maelis leaned forward slightly. "Besides, this isn't our first time with pirates. Just the first time with allies like you."

Jue Qingling, overhearing from the helm, shot a look back. "Pirates are pirates. We've dealt with worse. Just stay out of our way when the blades come out."

"You wield them well," Calenvar said with polite amusement. "But it's not only strength that wins battles, sometimes it's knowing when to swing."

Feiyin looked back toward the swirling waters. "Let's hope we don't have to test both."

The emissaries and Red Lotus disciples spent the next days in quiet conversation. Feiyin spoke often with Calenvar and Maelis, learning more about Greenwood's rites, their communion with the forest, and their elemental cultivation philosophy. They, in turn, asked Feiyin about his music; how he learned to play the guqin, and what inspired his melodies.

One evening, under the soft glow of the rising moon, Feiyin quietly set his guqin down near the bow of the ship. Silver light pooled across the deck, casting long shadows and glinting off the railings. A gentle wind rolled over the ship, mingling the faint tang of salt with the distant cries of sea birds echoing over the water.

He sat cross-legged, posture relaxed but composed, his hands poised over the strings. As he began to play, the soft tones of the guqin blended with the ambient sounds of the sky and sea. The melody he chose was neither overly bright nor sorrowful; it drifted like the ocean mist, each note plucking something quiet and ancient from the air.

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Calenvar leaned on the rail, listening with a faint smile, while Maelis closed her eyes, swaying slightly to the rhythm, murmuring that it reminded her of morning rain falling on young sprouts.

Jue Qingling, who had been reading a map by the helm, looked up and turned her head toward the music. Her gaze lingered longer than expected, her usual focus momentarily forgotten. For all Feiyin's sharp instincts and measured strength, this display was unfamiliar. The tune was gentle, almost nostalgic, as if pulling memories from some distant, untouched part of the soul. She didn't smile, but her expression softened, the lines of her brow easing as she watched.

Ruan Lianhua, seated in the shadow of the mast, halted mid-motion, the whetstone still pressed against her blade's edge. Her gaze lifted, drawn by the sound, and landed on Feiyin's silhouette. Moonlight brushed across his features, sharp yet composed, his long obsidian hair swaying gently with the wind. His posture was steady, fingers moving with fluid precision. There was something quiet yet resolute in how he played; not performative, but deeply personal. Ruan watched in silence, her sharpening forgotten. A strange feeling stirred in her chest; foreign, yet oddly familiar, like a half-remembered dream. Her hand moved without thought, fingers brushing lightly against her heart. She had not felt this in a long time. Her gaze remained fixed on Feiyin, not as a leader or a cultivator, but as something else; something she couldn't quite name. The music moved through her, not demanding, only present. And she let it linger.

Feiyin, radiant and calm in that moment, was not new to admiration. He had always been striking. But this side of him; serene, vulnerable, expressive- was one that few had seen. And it held them still.

When the final note faded into silence, no one spoke for several breaths. The hush that followed felt like a held moment, suspended in the wind, unwilling to break just yet.

By the third day, they were crossing the deepest section of the strait. The skies had turned brooding, heavy with slate-colored clouds that churned and gathered low. Rain fell in slanting sheets, driven sideways by screaming gusts of wind. The waters below boiled with whitecaps, surging and crashing in chaotic swells. Lightning flickered across the horizon, momentarily illuminating the jagged islets dotting the vast channel. Thunder cracked like splitting stone. The skyships rocked and groaned, their essence wards humming under pressure, as the crew adjusted the formations mid-flight to keep the vessels stable.

Then, the attack came.

A tremor of essence cracked through the deck. A crimson flare tore through the air above, curling in a twisting spiral.

Feiyin and Jue Qingling were already on their feet. Out from the storm-wisped clouds roared a third skyship; black, massive, and angular, built for war. Its hull was armored in bone-metal plating, red sigils pulsing like veins along its sides. The sails screamed with jagged essence, and ballistae crackled with restrained fury.

"The Black Gale," Qingling said coldly. "They are part of the sky pirates in this region."

Maelis' breath caught, and Calenvar's hand drifted toward the vine-wrapped hilt at his belt.

Jue Qingling didn't wait. "Battle formations! Split and dive!"

Essence surged. Defensive wards flared. The two skyships dove in separate arcs, slicing through the storm-touched air.

Ballista bolts tore through the sky. One struck the second ship's rear stabilizer, and formation sigils fizzled. Grappling hooks followed, and masked cultivators launched through the air, blades drawn, roaring battle cries.

Feiyin met them mid-leap, saber flashing. Baiyu struck like a coiled whip, toppling one attacker into the sea. Fenlan charged across the deck, antlers aglow, scattering enemies.

But the pirates were well-trained and numerous. Explosions rocked the hull. Sigils began to fail.

"She's going down!" someone shouted from the helm, pointing to the second skyship.

Qingling barked, "To the nearest islet! Land it now! Break off and regroup!"

The ship veered hard, engines shuddering under stress as the pilot steered toward a jagged, rain-slick isle below. Essence wards sputtered against the wind. With a final jolt, the ship made landfall, rough but intact, scraping against stone and scattering seawater in wide sprays.

Feiyin's skyship curved wide, avoiding the brunt of the pirate fire. As it banked up into the clouds, Feiyin, Ruan, and Jue Qingling leapt overboard, cloaks whipping behind them, weapons drawn. Rain poured around them as they fell, essence qi wrapped tight around their limbs.

They landed like thunderbolts upon the enemy skyship. Feiyin's saber struck first, cleaving into the deck with a burst of force that sent splinters and pirates alike flying. His movements were sharp and deliberate, each swing aimed to kill or disable. Rain slicked his hair to his face, but his eyes burned clear.

Ruan spun beside him, blades humming with precision. She moved through the storm like a ghost, graceful and decisive, slipping between pirates and cutting them down before they could react. Jue Qingling landed last, her spear wrapped in green essence qi crashing into the mast and shattering it in a spray of splinters. She followed up with a sweeping arc that sent two attackers tumbling into the raging winds.

The pirate crew rallied fast, but their footing faltered under the slick planks and relentless onslaught. Feiyin moved forward, saber flicking upward to deflect a barrage of talismans. Ruan dashed for the lower hold, carving a path toward the heart of the ship.

"Let's cover her!" Feiyin barked, and Qingling surged to his side, clearing a swath with a flurry of sweeping strikes. They pressed onward, feet thudding against soaked wood, lightning splitting the skies overhead.

Ruan reached the ship's core, a reinforced housing of copper and jade, humming with essence from a pile of essence stones. Without hesitation, she planted both hands on the structure, flooding it with opposing force. The core destabilized, shrieking with energy as the sigils' circuits shorted. Ruan pressed a final talisman onto the housing, the paper flaring to life with golden ink before she turned on her heel.

"Clear out!" she called, sprinting up the corridor as the glow intensified behind her. Bursting into the rain-soaked deck, she didn't hesitate, her voice rising over the storm. "Jump!"

Feiyin and Qingling were already in motion. They launched off the ship's edge just as the talisman ignited the core. It detonated in a massive plume of fire and smoke, ripping through the ship's center. The pirate skyship buckled, its hull cracking in half before plunging far bellow into the sea in a fiery cascade. Rain muffled the sound as wreckage vanished into the waves.

Landing again on their own skyship, which hovered low and waiting, the trio landed hard, boots thudding against the slick deck. The vessel began a slow descent toward the islet below, its engines humming as it adjusted for wind and terrain. As it neared the ground, the trio jumped a final time, landing on the rocky isle just as a gust of wind swept the last remnants of fire and smoke from the ruined pirate vessel. Rain lashed against them, soaking their cloaks and hair, as they stood in silence, watching the wreckage smolder and collapse in distant flames through the storm.

Behind them, the rest of the Red Lotus regrouped, bruised but standing. The Greenwood emissaries stepped forward from cover, their eyes wide with disbelief and something deeper.