Twinned Destinies: A Cultivation Progression Fantasy

They crossed the mountains together. It was a messy procession. The humans marched first, followed closely by the demons.

Ruyi insisted on sitting at the front with Jin, in his carriage. She talked at him the entire ride. Letters weren't the same—she still couldn't believe he was here. She had this horrible recurring fear that she'd wake up alone in a hollowed-out battlefield, surrounded by the corpses of her friends, and that this was all some happy dream she made up to cope. Heavens knew she'd done stuff like this before.

In between blabbing at him, she kept poking him to make sure he was real. She reserved the right to pinch his cheeks at all times. If she didn't know better, she would have thought that by the third day of this, he was getting a little tired of her.

She declared she wanted to know everything, so he told her:

He'd put Father in charge of holding the line while he was gone. She was a little worried, but not much; Father was even more stubborn than she was. She knew firsthand just how hard he was to move.

And with the demons on their side, Jin now had overwhelming numbers. As soon as they got over the mountains, he'd send out ravens to Duke Qin’s allies, giving them good terms if they surrendered. The war had hardly gone on two months, and Jin already seemed weary of it.

"What else?" She kept asking him, and he kept talking about war stuff, never about things he did for himself, like a nice meal he ate, or a fun thing he did with a friend. When she brought this up, he stared blankly at her.

"You look terrible," she informed him.

"Thanks, sis," he groaned.

"Seriously, you should sleep more. Or… I don't know… Go do something, take your mind off things!"

She remembered, so long ago, a lifetime ago, he'd wanted to open a bakery. He was happy being just another person, living a simple life with someone he loved. They thought it was kind of stupid then, but she got it now. He was Emperor—he could never live that kind of life. She felt a little sad at the thought.

"I'm Emperor," he said, as though he heard what she was thinking. "I can't take my mind off things. It's not about me, Ruyi." He paused and smiled weakly. "Maybe I'll rest after all this is done. Maybe we can go fishing."

"Okay. As soon as the war is over," she said. "You can't say no, you just said you would."

He chuckled. "Sure."

Ruyi was realizing she would never be a good Empress. It was the difference between her and Jin—in the end, it was always about her. Even now, she didn't really care how the Realm was doing; she cared how Jin was doing.

***

Jin sent his letters, giving the Dukes of the Frostbite Peaks, Tiger’s Roar Valley, and Great Lakes Province a chance to surrender.

One by one, they rebuffed him.

So Jin brought his army over the mountains and went north, swamping Tiger’s Roar Valley. Their numbers were too much; in two days, they swept clean through the province, brushing aside all resistance. The trouble wasn't only the firepower—they had Marcus there too, and Marcus made strategy an art form.

In the aftermath, Jin sent out another round of letters. The Great Lakes Province and the Frostbite Peaks surrendered at once. Only Duke Qin’s Crimson River Delta held out.

Jin’s army took a winding route up north. Father, Mother, and those who'd stayed behind pushed up from the south. Together, they converged on the Crimson River Delta for one last battle, one from each side of the province.

As it turned out, no battle actually happened.

Duke Qin, desperate, offered to pit his strongest fighter against their strongest fighter. If the Qin fighter lost, the war was over, and the Duke would surrender. But if he won, the Crimson River Delta got its independence.

Normally, Jin wouldn't accept. But Marcus told him to do it. Apparently Marcus had already scouted out Duke Qin's fighting force, and singled out his strongest warrior. He knew exactly who Qin would send. He told Jin to send Mother. "It will spare us much bloodshed," Marcus said.

They marched two days to the scene of the duel and arrived the morning of. The armies watched over it from nearby hills. The duel took place in a flat valley, just as the sun rose. Ruyi saw Mother, a tiny blue dot, and Qin's man, this hulking bald brute dressed in red, wielding a spiked hammer.

In the half-hour leading up to the duel, Ruyi kept looking at the hammer and then at Mother, getting nervous—even though logically she knew there was no reason.

It turned out Marcus was right. The duel began, and Mother drew her blade.

Sometimes Ruyi thought she knew all there was to know about fighting. She was strong, wasn't she? She'd like to think she was one of the strongest in the world, maybe the strongest, if she really put her mind to it.

Then she saw Mother fight, and she felt exactly as all those years ago, when she’d first seen Mother get serious. It was almost hard to believe she was seeing a real person. Mother didn't move like normal people; Mother moved in geometries. The arcs of her sword were so clean they took Ruyi's breath away; her steps were precise, rhythmic, and when she slashed, the world fell away. All you could see was that blinding scar of light.

It took her four strikes. The third knocked the giant's hammer from his hand, the fourth split him clean open, and that was that.

Ruyi was one of the first to run down and congratulate her. Mother was sheathing her blade; her gaze was flat and stark, almost dead. And she saw Ruyi and gasped. "Rue?!”

Her eyes lit up with joy, with warmth; there was the Mother Ruyi knew! Ruyi tried tackling her in a hug, but Mother sidestepped. "I'm sorry," said Mother sheepishly, she gestured down at her blood-stained clothes. "He spilled all over me… I'll have to get changed first, dear. But it's so good to see you again, oh! We must let your Father know you're here—he's right up that hill!"

Ruyi tried squinting up there, but she couldn't see over the glare of the sun.

"Your brother's there too, isn't he? Oh, this is perfect! We can have a picnic together, as a family! It's been so long…"

***

Mother spread out the mat, and went to get Father. When they returned, he was carrying jams, breads, roast meats—and several kinds of raw, bloodied meat, too. It was strange seeing him again. It was strange seeing him sit down on the picnic cloth. He was still wearing his general’s uniform. He seemed distinctly uncomfortable, out of place.

It was the first time they'd seen each other in months, maybe a year.

The first thing he said when he saw her was, “Ah. You again.”

She wasn’t sure what to say to that.

And he settled down beside her. “So. How was your little vacation? Did you enjoy your time over the mountains?”

For a moment, she just gaped at him.

"That's what you're asking me?"

He shrugged. "What would you like me to say?”

"I'm a demon!" she said. "You fight demons."

"Yes," he said, "and I also fight men. They're not so different. Both humans and demons are capable of incredible cruelty. I've seen it. But also incredible kindness. I've talked with Marcus for decades. He is more civil than most any human I've met. The difference seems chiefly culinary and cultural. Though, if we are to be honest…"

He took a bite of bread. "I've always believed you were more suited to their culture. You were always too… wild, shall we say, for this one?"

“…so you don't hate me?"

He sighed. "Perhaps I was surprised at first. But I could never hate you, Ruyi. Don't be ridiculous."

She sagged with relief at that, and brightened.

Mother had watched the start of their exchange nervously, but she seemed to be easing up now; she smiled. "Very good!" she said. "Has anyone seen Jin?"

"He asked to do some stupid thing," grumbled Ruyi. "Negotiate some terms for some treaty or something—he said he'd be here. Oh! Look—there he comes!"

And he brought an armful of baskets. She smelled them from fifty strides off—sweet, tart, earthy. So familiar…

The war must have been over, because Jin was smiling like she hadn't seen him smile in ages. "Hey everyone," he said. "I brought cookies!"