Dao of the World Walker (Xianxia) Book 2

Once done, Yang gave himself a once-over. 

“Let’s go.” He followed Unaib outside the house. 

Night had fallen by now, and the outside seemed to have completely shifted from its usual quiet self. There were villagers mingling around as they all greeted each other and enjoyed themselves. Wooden instruments, similar to flutes, were being played by a group of villagers as young men and women swayed to the tune in a circle. 

The night was lit by the help of beautiful lit lamps hanging from the eaves of every house and the full moon in the sky. The moonlight caught the scales everyone seemed to have adorning their bodies, giving them an ethereal glow. He may have initially thought that the scales shined like seashells, but the way they reflected light was unlike any seashell or pearl he had ever seen. The moonlight seemed to give them a glow from within.

He noticed that his and, to a lesser extent, Unaib’s scale designs were more elaborate than what everyone else was wearing.

The children playing around seemed to have a small design glued on their cheek and around their eye. And the designs themselves were rather cute and childish in nature. Their cheeks, adorned with flowers, fish, and sun; one even had a few scales on her nose making a triangle and three lines of scales extending across her cheek to imitate a cat’s whiskers. 

Adult men seemed to have designs drawn on their chest, with some occasionally having it on their arms and shoulders only. Faces, it seemed, were reserved for children, as they were the only ones where the scale designs were drawn on their face.

As he walked next to Unaib, he saw many of them smiling at Yang while some gave him a slight bow of their head. Yang just smiled back and nodded at them all. While the Silvar people may not care much for titles and hierarchy, the crown of chosen one that he had foisted upon himself seemed to break their habit of treating everyone as peers.

He let out a smile as he watched the children making a game of sneaking over to the offering table and stealing a piece of fruit. The women in charge of the table pretended not to have seen them and made a deliberate show of looking elsewhere to give the less sneaky ones a chance as well.

The Silvar were good people. He was lucky to have been brought here. 

He noticed people looking behind him and turned around to see what looked like Saral making her way toward him and Unaib. He winced as he got a look at her face or rather where her face should have been.

She seemed to have plastered her face with as many scales as she had the space to add. He felt an itch at his back just looking at her. At the same time he had to admire her self control. He was already tired of the tight and scratchy feeling at his back but having that glue slathered and dried on one’s face ought to be considered a form of torture. If it had been him he would have been peeling off the scales as he walked around. 

“Nahar. Unaib. Looking forward to the feast?” Saral asked as she drew close.

“Don’t know about this one.” Unaib answered, looking at Yang, “but I am looking forward to having a taste of that beast.” He said looking at the large beast that was being turned over a spit.

“Ah, yes. Beul and his hunters worked hard to capture the ortan.” Saral said as she followed Unaib’s gaze. “They actually also brought even more variety of smaller games. Uzim has decided to make a stew out of it since there wasn’t enough to roast for everyone.”

“Then I look forward to trying what Uzim cooks up,” Unaib said before turning to Yang. 

“What about you, little Nahar? Are you excited to eat anything?” Yang gave an uncertain smile. “I don’t remember any of the food.”

All these things were not something usually prepared by the tribe. The tribe cooked and ate communally, and most of the time the food consisted of daily fresh catch of fish and rice along with any wild mushrooms and fruits the foragers were able to find. The ortan and whatever other game the hunters had brought in wasn’t something he had a chance to try in the last six months. 

Hell, he hadn’t even known that the tribe had hunters; the tribe had no shortage of food, but that was only because they were water wielders and catching fish was as easy as breathing for them.

“Well, I know you used to love eating roasted ortan. I am sure you’d enjoy it.” His voice turned dry as he added. “It is certainly big enough to feed the whole tribe twice over.”

And Yang had to agree. He was surprised they even managed to roast such a large animal whole. The thing was practically the size of a baby elephant.

“I can’t wait to try it.” Yang said with a grin. Though he wiped it off his face quickly enough at Saral’s scandalous look. She seemed to expect a certain dignity and gravitas from the Silvars chosen and when she found the opposite, it tended to make her uncomfortable.

And truth be told, though she had never verbalised any of it, her reaction in turn made Yang uncomfortable, so he quickly moved away, not wanting to spend any extra time under Saral’s close scrutiny. She could stare from far away all she wanted.

He heard Unaib following behind him and turned to find him looking displeased, though he smoothed over his expression once he noticed Yang looking at him. Yang wasn’t surprised. Unaib and Saral, who had seemed friendly enough when he first saw them together, seemed to have grown distant. They both disagreed with how Yang ought to be treated. Even before the whole chosen one fiasco, Unaib was against Yang starting his studies so soon and wanted him to wait a couple of years. The expectations and regard others heaped on Yang seemed to have done nothing to improve his opinion.

Yang was fortunate to have him.

Yang stayed clear of others as his presence seemed to make them more careful and aware of their actions and words. Yang wanted them all to enjoy the night, which they would not be able to do if they were self-conscious about his presence.

He and Unaib walked the edge of the river in comfortable silence as they enjoyed the beauty of the night while taking in the excitement of their fellow tribesmen celebrating from a comfortable distance.

Suddenly Yang gazed up as he saw a small pinkish glow spread over the sky and grow closer. It really was different to any fireworks display he had ever seen but before he could further admire them, people started screaming and running, trying to find cover. Some of them tried to gather the children. He looked back towards the sky as the fireworks, instead of extinguishing in air, rained down on them in the middle of their celebration.

He saw as many of the falling fireballs hit their people, igniting them on fire as if they were drenched in lighter fluid. He saw people wielding water; many of the older water wielders tried putting out the fire only for them to be overcome as more and more fireballs were launched at them.

He felt Unaib grab him and push him down, as he used his own body to cover Yang’s back and head.

“Unaib. What is happening? Who is attacking us?” Yang wrenched himself free and raised a wall of water to smother the next barrage of fireballs.

He felt the full weight of Unaib’s body slump against him. 

He turned and looked up only to let out a heart wrenching scream as he saw the arrow protruding out of his eye

Yang stepped back, reaching for Unaib’s body as it collapsed. He dropped to his knees on the ground beside him and shook him. 

He was back in the small hut. Watching helplessly. Running like a coward as he heard the thump of Grandpa hitting the floor.

“Grandpa. No”

“Don’t die.”

No. This was not Grandpa.

“Unaib.”

“Unaib. Please no.”

Unaib wouldn’t move.

He looked up and saw people in black armour moving through the village carrying swords and lit arrows systematically killing off his people. His people fought back where they could but they were badly outnumbered.

He pushed himself up and threw jets of water against men that seemed to be trying to surround a group of weak wielders. 

He saw one of them with a sword raised coming towards him and summoned a tentacle of water, planning on dragging the man to the river and drowning him, but before he could even take another step further, he saw him cleaved vertically in half. He watched horrified as the two sides slid against each other with a terrible squelch before separating as the body hit the ground.

He looked behind him only to see Saral standing and using water like a laser, cutting through everyone. He smiled as he took in these invaders meeting a brutal death.

Suddenly, Saral staggered and let out a spurt of blood from her mouth as she looked shocked. 

Yang tried to move towards her as he watched her drop to the ground. But he felt a flaming arrow fly by his face, nicking and burning his cheek.

He turned around, immediately calling upon jets of water and shooting at the invaders, but with his current strength, he could at most bruise them badly, maybe break a few ribs here and there. But he was unable to wield water with the expertise needed to cleave a man in half. 

He summoned half a dozen thick whips of water and used them to strike everyone away. He saw one of the whips catch two men who were thrown in the river and turned towards the right where ano—

He felt himself choke.

He let out a gurgle of blood, bringing his hand to his throat in shock only to feel an elongated shaft protruding from one side of his neck.

An arrow had hit him in the side of his throat. He fell to his knees, clutching his throat as he watched with his last breaths as the Sivlar were destroyed and burned.

He fell face-first to the ground, watching as a pair of boots reached him; one of them disappeared from view right before he felt it come crashing down on his head.

Then nothing.

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