Pilgrim, p.16
Pilgrim, page 16
He fell asleep thinking of that girl’s face, wondering where she was and what had happened since.
A crash at the back of the monastery woke Danzen from his reverie, his hand immediately going for his sword as he heard Basan flapping her wings.
Danzen winced as he made his way to the back entrance of the monastery, keeping low to the ground as he crept forward.
More commotion caused him to charge out the door, his famed blade at the ready.
He caught sight of an animal trying to knock over Basan’s coop.
Danzen’s response was instant and sudden; he threw his sword at the creature, his blade bouncing off as if the creature’s flesh were made of stone, Astra returning to its scabbard.
The creature started to charge away, Danzen chasing after it.
He caught up with it and the beast finally turned, much of its face concealed by the shadows cast by the roof of the monastery as it prepared to pounce.
Danzen had little time to act as something absolutely enormous landed on top of him, followed by the sound of snapping teeth as he tried to move out from beneath the beast.
He was able to roll out of the way, Danzen coming back around and looping his arm around the creature, hoping to be able to pull it to the ground as the two kicked up dirt.
For his efforts, Danzen was slammed to the side of the monastery, the beast charging off into the darkness.
Danzen crouched, his breaths coming in fast.
He knew the feeling of his demons being unleashed; no, he hadn’t been cut in the skirmish with the creature, but he had been winded.
Figuring he would take the higher ground, the former assassin leaped to the rooftop of the monastery, careful as he put his weight down. He scanned the distance for the creature that had assailed him and saw nothing.
Danzen waited for a good thirty minutes in complete silence before dropping back down to the ground and going to the coop.
Basan flapped her thunderous wings as Danzen reached his hand inside the coop, ignoring her illusory flame.
“You are sleeping inside tonight.”
He brought the fire chicken into the monastery, shutting the door behind him.
Danzen placed Basan on the floor of his bedroom. He shut the door behind him, the chicken clucking for just a moment before finally settling down.
His sleep was poor for the rest of the night, Danzen not able to rest with the sound of Basan’s feet scraping against the stone floor as she pecked around his bedroom, his thoughts constantly returning to the creature he had encountered.
.Chapter Two.
No matter how many times he checked the area surrounding the monastery, Danzen couldn’t figure out what had caused the commotion the previous night.
It was morning now, the sun a pale yellow, a slight breeze moving through the valley.
Basan had defecated several times in Danzen’s bedroom, which he’d already cleaned up. He thought about keeping her outside, but not until he could figure out what had attacked him. As she flapped her wings and spit fire, he placed the fire-breathing chicken in the cage, where she grew quiet.
Danzen brought in some fresh water and washed his face and hands over the basin in the kitchen. Once his hands were dry, he grabbed a piece of bread and stepped outside again.
Standing before the monastery now, a piece of bread in his hand, his sword at his side, and his satchel slung over his shoulder, Danzen took in his monastery.
While the roof no longer had leaks, it would need to be replaced in the future. The stone exterior of the monastery would need more work as well, plus there was the piping necessary for heating during the winter.
All of this pointed to a simple conclusion: Danzen needed money.
He was more or less self-sufficient at the monastery, and it wasn’t very difficult to hunt considering the blade that he kept on his belt. Yet with the remodeling that was needed, Danzen could do with an influx of kip.
He hadn’t thought much about furniture inside the main space of the monastery, but it would be something he could get to in the future.
Perhaps if he had lunch in the village and visited a few of the people that he knew, something would come about.
With this in mind, the former assassin locked up, another thought coming to him: maybe after he got the monastery to where he wanted it, Danzen would consider learning to bend his echo.
As he walked to Suja Village’s Third District, Danzen went over what he already knew about bending one’s echo.
The system of cultivation was based on exploiting whatever remnants of Sunyata were locked away in a person’s family lineage.
While Sunyata fell hundreds of years ago, heaven literally plummeting to the ground, the people living at the time were able to absorb its power and pass this celestial energy onto their children, and their children’s children.
There were those that spent their lives trying to cultivate their echo, to bend their own innate power.
These cultivators had developed their own ranking system, which Danzen knew little about, and from what he had learned about the cultivating aspect, it mostly seemed to involve a combination of slow, calculated movements, difficult poses, and trials in which someone was required to change the very nature of an object without touching it.
The cheap and easy way to benefit from Sunyata’s power was through a talisman that had a remnant placed into it, or, as many had done, simply consuming the remnant in some way.
This was what Danzen’s former lover Soko had done.
The female assassin had stolen a small shard of a Sunyata remnant from one of her marks. She’d had it grounded into powder, which she then injected into her bloodstream.
And thus, an addiction began.
Soko continued to seek whatever Sunyata remnants she could find, which had affected her body. She looked almost like a floating ghoul last time Danzen had seen her, the power affecting her robes, and the way they hovered around her.
There was no telling how far gone she was now, especially after two years apart.
He remembered Soko jealously telling him that what she was doing was the only way for her to grow as powerful as Danzen, her self-loathing and resentment only fueling her desire for more.
The hairs on the back of Danzen’s neck stood to attention as he continued his walk, as he recalled yet again that she was actively hunting him, at least according to Shunta.
He instinctively placed his hand on the hilt of the sword, and paused as he tuned into his environment.
If she came, which hopefully she didn’t, Soko would move quickly and with force. That, or she would try another approach, toying with him.
He didn’t know if she could actually kill him, but his own death was the least of Danzen’s concerns. His concern, as always, was what would happen once the demons were unleashed.
Satisfied that no one was watching him, Danzen continued on his way.
He reached the outskirts of the Third District and was greeted by Temur’s three boys, who were chasing after each other, the middle child wielding a wooden sword.
The Third District was lively, a breath of fresh air from Danzen’s still and quiet monastery. People moved down the main thoroughfare on their way to the other districts, merchants with shops set up along the sides of the streets calling out to those who passed by.
His eyes fell to a young girl wearing a yellow robe riding a horse that was being led by a bowlegged man, who walked with a limp.
The girl looked at him for a moment, and quickly glanced away, Danzen recalling that he had encountered her a few days back when she nearly ran into him while being chased by a boy wearing a red yokai mask.
“Just a little longer,” the older man told her. “Your granddad should be the one on the horse.”
“You said I could ride,” she whined.
“And you are riding,” he reminded her.
“But you are helping me…”
The old man laughed. “And I’m going to continue to help you, Enkhmaa. You’re not old enough to be riding alone.”
“But my friends ride alone…”
“Argh,” the older man said, waving away her concern. “Someone is always doing something that you think you’re supposed to be doing.”
Danzen waited for them to pass and turned to the back streets, where Khamdo and Sarnai lived. The walk from his monastery had made him hungry, and after having meat pies and other assorted foods delivered to him every day for over a week, Danzen was craving some of Sarnai’s home-cooking.
He approached their well-maintained home and knocked. Khamdo came to the door, the carpenter in a clean set of robes that looked like they had been pressed.
“Pilgrim,” he said, bowing his head slightly at Danzen. “I was wondering when you would stop by.”
“You expected me earlier?” Danzen asked as he stepped into the home, the wooden floorboards creaking beneath him.
Khamdo looked at the floorboard and shook his head. “I’ve got to do something about that. I’ve been meaning to take care of it, but you know how it goes: life gets in the way.”
“It certainly does.”
Khamdo led Danzen into the dining room, where there were a few loose papers on the wooden table. He stacked the papers and set them aside, encouraging Danzen to sit.
Sarnai came out of the kitchen without her apron this time, her cheeks rosy as always. “Are you ready to eat something?” she asked Danzen.
“I’m going to give you some money as soon I get some,” Danzen told them. “You’ve been far too kind.”
“Too kind? You saved our child!”
“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t,” he told Sarnai, “but I’m not going to use that as a reason to keep getting free construction done on the monastery and as a meal ticket. When I do get some money, expect something.”
Sarnai started to say something but her husband cut her off. “If it comes, it comes.”
His wife left the dining room, Danzen hearing the patter of her feet as she rushed into the kitchen.
“So, do you have big plans for today?” Khamdo asked him.
“Actually, I’m here looking for work, seeing if anything has come up.”
Khamdo nodded, knowing exactly what Danzen meant. “Going to the Raksi Hall then?”
“Eventually,” Danzen told him.
“They do have good stew there, but if you want the good stuff, you should go to Sarten’s.”
Sarnai came into the room with a bowl of sliced potatoes that had been glazed in a sweet sauce. She set this on the table and returned a moment later with a ham hock that had been baked to perfection.
They started eating together, Khamdo chewing loudly as he asked, “How is the monastery? Everything holding up?”
“There was an occurrence last night,” said Danzen.
“Yeah? What happened?”
“Something attacked the chicken coop. I went outside to see what it was and ended up chasing down a large creature with a body made of stone. It slammed me against the outer wall of the monastery before running off.”
The carpenter stopped eating. “Are the walls all right?”
“As far as I can tell, yes.”
“Did you see what it looked like?” Sarnai asked. “This creature?”
“No, only that it was a four-legged creature and its body was made of stone. It had teeth, which it tried to bite me with. I’m assuming those were made of stone as well, but was unable to tell. It was too dark.”
“You know…” Sarnai started to say. Leegan made a noise in the other room, interrupting her. She turned to her husband and nodded toward their child. Khamdo excused himself from the table and left to check on the baby. “As I was saying, this may sound crazy…”
“Nothing sounds crazy to me anymore,” Danzen told her.
“This place has a way of doing that to you. Anyway, when I was a child, my mother told me that the two lion dog statues in front of the monastery were actually alive.”
“The statues?” Danzen asked, recalling the lion dog statues that sat on either side of the front door, one of them missing its head.
Sarnai shrugged. “I don’t know if she said that just to scare us into behaving when we went to the monastery, but she told my brother and me this story multiple times, claiming they protected the monastery. I asked Abbot Mergen about it once, but he never confirmed it, only saying that there were more mysteries in Genshin Valley than rumors, whatever that means. So maybe it’s not true. Maybe it was something that people said to scare looters away.”
“I don’t know if a rumor of a living statue would scare a looter away,” Khamdo said, coming back to the room with the baby. “Did it seem like a lion to you?”
He sat, and as he did Leegan stopped fussing so she could look at Danzen. The baby reached her hand out to him.
“I didn’t get a good look at it,” Danzen told Khamdo. “But I suppose it was about the size of one of the statues out front. It clearly had a head.”
“At least, it’s a start,” said the carpenter. “You are living pretty far out there, so there are going to be a number of encounters that you have that most people in the village would never have to deal with. Honestly, I’m surprised that we only found one yokai living in the monastery…”
“You did what?” Sarnai asked, her voice suddenly sharp.
“Just…” He cleared his throat. “Nothing, dear. Disregard what I said.”
“No, Khamdo, you’re not getting out of what needs to be said by telling me that. What happened?” Rather than look at her husband, she turned her gaze to Danzen. “Go on, tell me.”
“We were clearing out a room. There was a vase, and once we uncorked the vase, a demonic yokai flew out. I killed it and we burned its body.”
“You what?” she asked, dropping her hand onto her chest. “The Abbot was keeping a yokai?”
“He probably didn’t know what to do with it,” Khamdo told his wife. “I know you were closer to the Abbot, but from times I met him…”
“You should have told me,” she said, returning her focus to her husband.
“I didn’t want to scare you. And besides, Pilgrim took care of it.”
“I knew you were good with the sword but…” Sarnai stared at the former assassin with disbelief. “I just never really thought about it.”
“I have trained, yes,” Danzen said, which was the first time that he could recall ever admitting anything to anyone in the village regarding his past. “But that is nothing to be concerned about.”
“You know, the last time I saw Dalan, he said something about the yokai knowing the secret to rebuilding Sunyata,” said Sarnai as she went for a second helping of potatoes. “He always was talking about how the valley is the perfect place to experiment with befriending the various yokai, that we have something we could learn from them.”
“Maybe we could,” Khamdo said.
“But you should take another look at those statues.”
“I’ll check them out once I return to the monastery,” Danzen told them after a long pause, one in which he didn’t mention that Dalan had basically sent him to kill a giant.
“But don’t kill it,” Sarnai told him.
Danzen recalled the size of the beast, the way it had easily overpowered him.
“If it really is one of the statues out front, I don’t think there’s anything I could do to kill it,” he said, which was partially a lie. There was always the option of smashing it to bits, but to do so he would likely need to call upon the strength that came to him when his demons were released, which was out of the question.
“Just be careful,” she told him. “Now eat, before your food gets cold.”
.Chapter Three.
“Anything?” Danzen asked once Zorya the barmaid came to his table. As usual, he sat in the back of the tavern, his hood over his head, the former assassin doing his best to keep to himself.
“Excuse me?”
“Have you heard anything?”
“About what?”
Danzen finally removed his hood and looked at her, the barmaid taking him in for a moment, her eyes just a bit wider than they were seconds ago.
“Yokai. Anything strange. Anyone talking about anything strange and needing help dealing with it.”
“So that’s what you’re here for?” Zorya took a quick look around the bar, seeing that there were just a few regulars, all of whom had freshly topped off flagons of ale.
“It seems to be something I’m good at.”
“You have come to the right place for rumors and whatnot, but…” A line knitted between her eyebrows as she took him in. “I haven’t heard anything over the last few days. If I do, I promise to let you know. And if you ever get some kip out of it, I expect you to tip me.”
Danzen nodded.
“All right, Pilgrim, what will it be?”
It was a bit early for ale, but Danzen had decided to take the day off after his big meal at Sarnai and Khamdo’s home.
He flashed the number one to her and she nodded. “Back to your silent self,” she said as she moved to the bar.
Danzen watched her leave, once again checking out all of the patrons in the establishment, making sure that no one seemed out of place.
It was clear that Nayaga the assassin had skipped town. As much as he hoped it wasn’t the case, the sharpshooter would be back at some point. Danzen was sure of it. After a few days, perhaps he would ask about the man, once word had time to circulate.
With this in mind, and Danzen still alert to every person who entered the tavern, he enjoyed his ale.
He thought about enjoying another one but decided to nurse the one he had for a spell, the liquid room temperature by the time he finally finished the flagon.
It was growing later in the day, and while the beer should have made him tired, Danzen had energy, as he normally did.
He didn’t normally get tired or lethargic, not unless he was really pushing himself to the limit, and visiting the village, getting a free meal, and having a beer at the tavern definitely wasn’t pushing it.
It was the good life, plain and simple.
And because this was the case, he figured it couldn’t hurt to have another.
