4

  The Chosen

  ānháng was a tenth-generation descendant of Zhì Rén and Yīn-er through the line of their third son, Jiàn Hóng. Zhì Rén died one hundred and twenty-six years prior to his birth, and Jiàn Hóng died fourteen years prior.

  In the early years of ānháng these descendants were still alive: Yìchén the son of Jiàn Hóng was the third generation elder of the clan. In his days the king stopped appearing to mortals. áng zuò was the fourth generation elder and was known to be a weaver and builder of things. This included his skill in trade with distant cave dwellers which brought its own dangers and eventually exposed the clan to corruption. áng yáng was the fifth generation elder. He had the privilege of spending many years of his life with Zhì Rén, Yīn-er and Jiàn Hóng. He loved hearing stories of their life in the garden and their times with the King and his Bride. The man spent his life as the storyteller for his clan often with wide-eyed children sitting transfixed under the starry sky and flicker of the campfires, listening to these stories.

  Yù luò was the sixth generation elder but he was unlike his father. During his days, the clan of Zhì Rén faced far greater dangers and decline. Some of those who escaped the evils of Zhì intermarried his descendants, but they did not leave their own corrupt ways behind. Yù luò was not a strong leader and did not take timely action against these evils. Perhaps he was too kind or too unwilling to stir trouble, but this cost his entire clan a lot of heartache.

  Thankfully, his son was unlike him. Zhōng, the seventh generation elder was raised more by his grandfather áng yáng rather than his father. He grew to love the stories of the King as well. The more dedicated and loyal he grew to this unseen King, the more the seed expressed itself through him with great wisdom and discernment making him one of the best elders of the clan and even better than Zhì Rén himself.

  The King, knowing the loyalty and dedication of Zhōng, decided to meet him personally. He disguised himself as a warrior and met Zhōng in a wilderness pathway that ran through the mountains. Zhōng often climbed the steep, south-eastern mountains to train his strength as well as for the quiet and vast views he could enjoy from their heights.

  That day, as he took his usual path along the mountain, he saw a cave he was certain did not exist in that location previously. Out of curiosity, he turned aside and decided to enter the cave. He got a little shock when he ran into a very tall and handsome warrior standing ready just a short distance from the darkened entrance. It seemed like the warrior’s face glowed with a warm, inner light and his eyes appeared like the golden orange of a raging fire.

  Zhōng immediately drew his staff in self-defense, mistaking the warrior to be one of the gods or demi-gods of Zhì. He was caught off-guard when the warrior laughed instead of drawing his own sword.

  ‘Who are you?’ Zhōng asked in wonder and awe.

  ‘A friend,’ the warrior replied.

  ‘Are you from Zhì?’ Zhōng questioned further. He knew the dangers of befriending the people of Zhì.

  Sensing his doubts, the warrior assured him, ‘No. I am from a place far away from here. It is further than the highest mountains that you can cross. You can call me Tiānzǐ.’ The warrior shared some bread with the tired Zhōng, and it immediately refreshed and strengthened him greatly. After some time spent in deep conversation, the two men made their way down the mountain. Tiānzǐ stayed as a guest in the tents of Zhōng.

  Often, the warrior departed for weeks or months, but he always returned to meet Zhōng. There was a very deep friendship that formed between them. Zhōng was always delighted to hear stories of Tiānzǐ’s home because it seemed so similar to the stories about the King. The warrior was deeply impressed by Zhōng’s wisdom, bravery and righteous deeds. It reminded him of his beloved woman whose seed dwelt hidden deep within Zhōng.

  Over the many decades of their close friendship, Zhōng’s desire to visit the home of Tiānzǐ grew till he could no longer contain it. He made his desire known to his best friend.

  The warrior replied, ‘You cannot go there in this state. It will require some irreversible changes to happen. Also, once these changes happen and you enter my home, you will not be able to return to this place you call your home. Have you given this ample thought?’

  ‘I cannot go there but you can take me! Whatever changes are required, I will not hold back. Let me go through them. Give me a few days to settle the affairs of my home and clan and then let us leave together. I must see your home as you have seen mine!’ Zhōng insisted. The warrior smiled and nodded in agreement.

  Zhōng wasted no time in returning to his clan and ensuring things would go on smoothly even without him. He summoned his son Shòu who was already aware of the close friendship between his father and Tiānzǐ. His father always told him everything that he learnt from his friend especially about his far away homeland.

  ‘My son, Tiānzǐ has promised to take me to his home, but it is too far away, and I will not be able to return. I must leave the care of your mother and siblings to you. There are two important things that I must tell you before I leave. First, I will pass my staff to you so that you may take over as the clan leader. Second, remember this… in the days of your grandson there will be a great calamity. Tiānzǐ has assured me that you will not experience those evil days. Raise the child well so that he may survive the calamity of his days. As for you, live long and live well, my beloved son!’ Zhōng said.

  While Shòu and the clan felt sad that they would not see Zhōng again, Shòu felt a tinge of envy. He held the staff of the clan leader in his hand, but his eyes looked longingly after in the direction his father walked away with his friend of many decades. He thought to himself, ‘How blessed you are my father! You will outlive me for you have the privilege of walking with the King and returning to his home with him.’ Thus, Shòu became the eight generation elder of the clan.

  Zhōng always knew in his heart that his dear warrior friend was none other than the King whose stories he had grown up with. The longer and closer their friendship became; he was convinced of his doubt and told his son about it. On the day he left his clan, the warrior and Zhōng made their way up the same old mountain path that led to the cave in which they first met.

  ‘Are you ready my dear friend?’ the warrior asked.

  ‘I have never been more ready!’ Zhōng replied with enthusiasm.

  As they walked through the passage within the cave, a glowing portal appeared. When they stepped through it, the warrior took his true form as the King. Zhōng noticed how his own body was being transformed with every step he took alongside the King. It was being changed from mortal to immortal and in appearance, his body began to glow like that of the Tiānshǐ. They entered the twenty-four realms through what seemed like living waters that glowed with a light blue hue.

  The four brothers were present and prepared to host the honored, new inhabitant of their lands. He had a place to call home among the Tiānshǐ in the southern realms. He was free to travel through all the other regions and meet the living beings that dwelt there.

  Meanwhile, his son proved to be an excellent clan leader like his father. Shòu took care of his family and his people. However, the corruption of many of his clan members was evident from the violence that they began to exhibit. They did not honor their remaining elders and even mocked Shòu’s decrees. Shòu had to impose punishments for crimes in order to keep them in check. He lived a very long and extraordinary life before handing his staff to his son àoyǒu, the ninth generation elder of the clan.

  àoyǒu was a very tall, portly and friendly man but he was never weak. In fact, he was fierce and wild, adept in the art of war. He had to defend his clan against raiders from Zhì who were always searching for new people to enslave. He looked like an immovable rock and soon, his enemies felt dread just hearing his name or spotting his silhouette in the dust of the battlefield. When his son ānháng was born, he was very happy and hopeful.

  ‘My years have been filled with the clamor of battle and the heartbreak of ruined crops! The land has grown unyielding because it is wretched and cursed under this scorching sun. This son will bring in a new world of plenty, harvests of grapes and lush fruits, times of peace and rest. Hence, he will be called ānháng,’ àoyǒu announced to the entire clan as he showed them his newborn son. Since he was away quite often to patrol the clan’s territory and keep it safe from marauding bands, ānháng was left in the care of his grandfather Shòu.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  Shòu remembered the words of his own father that in the years of ānháng’s life, a great calamity would strike the whole world. He took it upon himself to faithfully raise the boy up and did not fail in telling him all the historical stories of their family from the time of Zhì Rén and Yīn-er. ānháng listened with rapt attention about Zhōng’s friendship with Tiānzǐ and how they left for the latter’s homeland. He learnt that Tiānzǐ was very likely the King himself and wondered about him even more. When ānháng was old enough, his father decided to hand over the clan leader’s staff to him so that the people could have a leader who was with them to guide and counsel them. Thus, ānháng became the tenth generation elder of the clan.

  àoyǒu did not stop patrolling the borders of their land and kept vigil so that his son and clan could enjoy peaceful days. It was in a skirmish at the borders that àoyǒu sustained a mortal wound, just five years before the great calamity struck the ancient world.

  Now, a hundred years prior to the calamity, ānháng fathered triplet sons. He was very joyful and went out into the open plains. He had developed a habit of sitting in the quietness, looking up at the distant stars and talking to Tiānzǐ who he believed had the power to somehow hear him even from such a distance. He was not wrong, for Tiānzǐ the King not only heard him but was well pleased with his character which stood out like a bright star in the darkness around it.

  That night, as he sat there talking to Tiānzǐ about the birth of his triplet sons ānháng was startled by the sound of footsteps behind him. He jumped up with staff in hand, fearing that there were raiders nearby. The footsteps were sure and firm like that of a seasoned warrior ready for battle. Then he saw the warm, glowing silhouette of a very tall and built man approaching him.

  Before he could behold the face of the man, the latter spoke, ‘Continue with what you were saying. I was quite enjoying the conversation!’

  ānháng felt embarrassed and wondered if the stranger thought he had lost his senses talking to the nothingness of the night. ‘Are you mocking me? Show yourself!’ he said with all the courage he could muster.

  The warrior stood face-to-face with ānháng and something within the latter knew without being told who this man was. ‘Are you… Tiānzǐ?’ he asked.

  ‘Now, how did you know that?’ Tiānzǐ said with a warm smile. Before ānháng could answer, Tiānzǐ sat down on the soft ground and opened a parcel in which was some freshly baked bread. He offered it as an invitation to ānháng. ānháng approached the warrior and sat beside him, taking a part of the bread to show that he accepted this offer of kinship. It was the culture in those days to offer the bread of kinship to another as a sign that one could be trusted as family.

  After a long conversation through the night, Tiānzǐ looked keenly into the eyes of ānháng as if he was studying the depths of his soul. ‘Do you trust me?’ he asked ānháng who nodded that he did.

  Then Tiānzǐ said, ‘I found you blameless among all the other mortals who dwell upon the earth. I gave them ample time to mend their ways, but their wickedness has only grown and now it is fully ripe like a fruit ready for the harvest. Violence floods the place with streams of blood. I am preparing to destroy the world and raise it up once again from the remains of the old.’

  ‘What will happen to my clan? There are many of my family, my brothers and sisters and their children with them,’ ānháng asked anxiously.

  ‘Your grandfather will sleep with the elders of your clan before the calamity strikes. As for the rest, speak with them and see if any of them will listen. If they do, they can be rescued along with you. However, listen carefully now if you want to save yourself, your wife, your sons and the women they will marry,’ the King told him.

  ‘I will teach you to make a very large, treasure box that can hold the wealth of the land within it and protect it from the onslaught of the calamity that will rage outside. Gather gopher wood for it is rich in oils and resins that will protect you from water. Take also its leaves that are good for the healing of wounds and sicknesses and let your wife make medicine from it that will be useful for both man and beast. There must be enough to last you for a year,’ the King instructed.

  Then he continued, ‘Use the wood to build a large chest with many compartments. Ensure that it is covered with pitch inside and outside leaving no part uncovered. This will protect all within it over the ravages of months of water. The chest must be three hundred cubits long, fifty cubits wide and thirty cubits high. That should be sufficient to house a pair or more of all the living creatures of land and air that roam your world now. Those in the waters will survive and there is no need to make any special arrangements for them. Within the chest, there must be three decks each with many compartments. Make a window for the chest about a cubit from the top and place a door on the side. This will ensure water does not seep inside.’

  ānháng asked, ‘Why must there be so much preparation to protect this chest of gopher wood from water? The days are hot and the mist that covers the earth is fading quickly. The rivers have never transgressed their banks, nor have the lake waters seeped into our homes.’

  ‘There will be rain that I will bring down upon the earth. It is water from the heavens above you. I will also cause the water hidden under the ground to break forth and the whole earth will be flooded because water will fill all the land and leave no room for anything living on land to stand or breathe,’ the King taught him.

  He assured him, ‘As for you, I will make a covenant with you so that your clan will not disappear from the face of the earth. You and your wife, your sons and their wives shall be kept safe. Gather two of every kind of living air and land creature, a male and female so that they may be saved and have a chance to propagate in the new world. The ones you cannot gather, I will send them to you. Gather all kinds of edible food for yourselves and for the beasts so that you will have enough provisions for over a year.’

  ‘Is it possible for this calamity to be stopped?’ ānháng asked. He had a kind heart, and he could not bear the thought of so many people and innocent creatures, including his own family members dying in such a horrible manner.

  ‘The people of Zhì cannot be saved. They are beyond that point. As for your clan, I will give them a hundred years. If you can convince them, I will permit their rescue. As for the living creatures who will not be gathered, it must be so because of other reasons that I cannot reveal to you. Anyway, these hundred years will be enough for you to prepare all the things needed, to gather the creatures and the food, for your sons to grow and take wives for themselves and for the remaining godly elders to depart,’ the King told ānháng.

  ānháng was chosen because the seed rested in him and the King knew that he would faithfully relate all the historical stories of his line to his descendants. They were chosen to carry the story and the memories needed to revive his beloved woman when her time came. ānháng was righteous and did not participate in the wickedness and violence that grew stronger around him daily. He never lusted for power or gain even though he was in a position to lord it over his people.

  He returned at the break of dawn to his clan. For the first few days he told no one of what transpired that night, but he could not hide it from his grandfather Shòu for too long.

  ‘You seem a little troubled, my son,’ Shòu said as he patted ānháng tenderly on his shoulder as if he was still the little boy sitting on his knees. ānháng shared with him all that the King had revealed.

  Shòu sighed in the manner of a tired old grandfather who had lived too long and seen too much. ‘So, it turns out that all my father said was true. I began to doubt it after years went by without any calamity or signs of Tiānzǐ returning to our world. Yet, he came without warning and has started to put into motion a plan hatched ages ago!’ Shòu said and nodded his head in sadness, ‘And he is justified. Look at the people and the evil that has grown around us. Who does not wish it all to end?’

  ‘What must I do?’ ānháng asked his elder.

  Shòu said quietly, ‘If Tiānzǐ has spoken, it is best you get started soon for there is much to do and little time left!’

  The King had his reasons to only gather a few pairs if not a single pair of the land and air creatures. Chief among them was that he did not want to alert Jiàn Shēng and his forces of what was coming. Jiàn Shēng was cunning beyond measure and would use such knowledge to find another way to continue his cruel experiments on the mortals. It was best to strike the enemy with a surprise attack.

  To avoid suspicions being raised by any spies sent by Jiàn Shēng, the King had told the four brothers to gather living creatures slowly over the hundred years.

  Pèi Zhōng and his soul beast, the lion Jiā Háo were entrusted to gather all the wild pack beasts of the mortal world. These included small and large creatures of the land which in later times would turn into predators. Zhì Shēn and his soul beast, the bull Wáng Léi were tasked in gathering herd creatures of the land. These are creatures that went on to become prey. Yīng Fēng and his soul beast, the dove ān Jìng went about gathering the flying creatures and insects. Xióng Zhǎn and his soul beast, the eagle Zǐ Xīn would have normally sought after the flying beasts but this time they had a special mission – to keep Jiàn Shēng occupied during the hundred-year mission of the other brothers.

  The other reason the King did not rescue all the living creatures was because of the corruption that had entered them. When some of Jiàn Shēng’s forces went down the mountain, they used living stones in their possession to cast spells on themselves and their own soul beasts. This gave them the appearance of mortal creatures but with all the powers and knowledge retained. Such a transformation also enabled them to interbreed with mortal beings.

  While the rebellious Tiānshǐ interbred with mortal women giving rise to demi-gods, the interbreeding of immortal soul beasts with mortal creatures resulted in terrible abnormalities. Many of the offspring died young as they were not viable and had health issues. Others that survived developed bloodlust and turned violent, devouring whatever they could in their path. These were the monsters that kept people awake at night. Almost all the surviving hybrids had parasites and diseases that they spread through their saliva and bites.

  These diseases caused epidemics among the other creatures and even killed entire clans of cave dwellers. Only the people of Zhì were safe for the Tiānshǐ among them knew how to tame and enslave these monsters, putting them to hard labor. As for those of ānháng’s clan, unknown to them, Xióng Zhǎn and Zǐ Xīn protected them according to the instructions of the King.

  The mortals determined who was chosen for survival and who was chosen for destruction. No doubt, the wicked Tiānshǐ had their role to play, and they would soon pay for their crimes along with their corrupted soul beasts. Their punishment would be etched into the minds of the remaining forces of Jiàn Shēng so deeply that they would forever stay terrified of committing the same mistakes as their brothers who went down the mountain.