Lets Talk Monkey

The first seven days of Shíhòu’s healing were spent between meditating, soaking in medicinal springs, personal care and sleeping.

He was no longer dreaming when he slept, and so his slumber was unbroken by nightmares, but that did not mean it was restful. He struggled with pain and from the onset of withdrawal from the numbing pills he had become dependent on over the years, leaving him feverish and powerless to fight his own body. MK had worried it would be difficult to comfort the ginger monkey, but his attitude towards being around them had changed, he was no longer reluctant to share a nest with them, and had actively begun seeking them out for comfort rather than hiding away and toughing it out alone.

MK hadn’t understood what the shift in their dynamics had been at first, not until Tongbi explained what had happened on the eighth day, while they were out going through stances with their weapons. Slow and methodical, to help the movements become natural and second nature, to make battle a little easier.

“It was all too easy to hide the truth from the Heavens back then. But out of respect for him, I told only Tathagata the truth of what happened to bring Chikao Mahou to heel and the blood deal that keeps Chikao Yuanhou restrained unless I permit otherwise.” Tongbi explained, “Madness is not something exclusive to those of us who hold great power and stand high in rank. Anyone can suffer it, Demon, Mortal, God, even Higher beings. There is no limit and no true protection.”

“So… anyone can succumb to Madness, no matter their standing?” The brown monkey asked, bringing Ruyi Jingu Bang in a slow wide arch. If he had been truly aiming to do damage, such a strike would send an opponent flying into the horizon.

“There is always a chance Madness will take the minds and hearts of people. No matter the rituals or precautions taken to avoid it. It was Tathagata who helped me understand it better when he saw it settling in Chikao Mahou.” Tongbi explained, using the left tip of his sanjiegun to correct Xiaotain’s angle ever so slightly. “This angle allows for a more powerful swing.”

“Is it something from before?” Xiaotain asked, repeating the sweep at the adjusted angle.

“It is.” The grey furred monkey nodded again, slowly bringing the right tip of his sanjiegun down and around to the side as if to deflect an incoming blow and then brought the left tip up in a counter strike. “One of the very few that remains a threat, but has, over the years, become less permanent in the vast collection of other problems that permeate the Realms.”

“So, will he be alright now?” He asked.

“That isn’t a question I can answer.” Tongbi admitted, his face grim. “Wu Zhiqi completely severed his connection with the part of him that was Chikao Mahou. I entered into a blood debt with Chikao Yuanhou, we healed together. Mihou, either through entering the Diyu, or through the help of the Void, was able to cleanse himself of Chikao Liu’er and overcame it to heal on his own. But Shíhòu is not us, nor is he you, the torture he has endured for cycles, the continued repression and pain he has suffered are many, and he has spent so long hiding and struggling alone… I honestly can not say when, or even if he will ever truly heal from it all.”

“... Will he get better?” Xiaotain amended his question, setting one end of Ruyi Jingu Bang to the ground. It was easier, now that he knew the differences, to tell who was in the forefront of the ginger monkey’s mind. 

Sun Wukong, the self who was confident, loud and bold enough to openly curse Heaven, the self MK had come to know as his mentor and who had been the one to endure the longest at the forefront, was now only active when Lingming Shíhòu was either too overwhelmed, unsure or too tired. The Handsome Monkey King, easily identified because he refused to speak in anything but True Monkey and was the most playful, was active only when interacting with the wider troop of Flower Fruit Mountain and the Troops of Demon Monkeys around the world. The Victorious Fighting Buddha was rarely actively at the fore at all, as that self preferred to remain within the personal mindscape of the ginger monkey, where he could calm both the anxiety and worries of Lingming Shíhòu and temper the still unsteady and restless Chikao Lingming, who also rarely came out unless emotions were high.

Lingming Shíhòu, having been too ashamed, too unsure and too afraid to dare step forth for himself for many years, was easily identified by the sheer lack of confidence and almost childlike way he actively sought out his brothers for company rather than hiding away from them as Sun Wukong had. And while at first MK had been confused, he quickly learnt it was because Shíhòu, like him, found comfort in physical touch and closeness with others, but had long forced himself to go without because he believed he had lost the right to have nice things. Long touch starved and having been given the promise he would not be rejected, Shíhòu was making up for the lifetime of lost contact he’d denied himself.

It was helping in a small way to give Shíhòu more reason to stay at the forefront longer and endure the path to healing honestly, rather than merely going with the motions as he had allowed Sun Wukong to do before.

Tongbi gave a sad smile, his sanjiegun sheathing itself against his back before he gently tussled MK’s hair. “Maybe, with time.”

“You say that alot.” MK noted, leaning into the touch, tucking the staff away into his ear. “With time.”

“Immortality gives us an abundance of time, little ingot.” Tongbi explained, the name freely given and accepted with a beaming smile. “I have seen the birth and death of every dynasty in our world from all five regions, watched Mortal Emperors rise and fall in mere blinks of my eyes, I saw the First Jade Emperor enthroned, rule and pass his crown, over and over again until the Late Jade Emperor, and still, I know there will be more. Time is endless and thus, the only thing in the cosmos that can be guaranteed. So, I know that with time, anything and everything is a possibility.”

MK nodded in understanding. “Then, I will believe things will get better, and wait and see.” He said, as the two sat to enjoy a break from their slow work out.

It was Wukong who invited Chi Yue to the Mountain on the fifteenth day, remarking that she could help brew healing teas and, having her around would help calm the troop again.

Just as he had predicted to Tongbi, she cried, then scolded the ginger monkey harshly for his act of concealing the Mobius Knife, telling him that because of his actions not only did she now question where in their friendship she had stepped so wrong that he no longer trusted her to keep her word, but Bai He had heard about the knife and suffered a relapse in her own recovery.

Sun Wukong took the scolding, both because it had been his error to allow it to come to this and because it had been the name Chi Yue had called when she all but kicked the door to the room open. He kowtowed deeply, apologising through his own tears several times over as she reprimanded and scolded him.

“Sorry does not make this okay, you ridiculously stupid, gravel headed idiot! That knife could have corrupted your dreams to the point of driving you insane! There is no way to reverse that!”

“I know.”

“And you still hid it from me?!” Chi Yue asked. “Have I become so untrustworthy to you that you would  rather suffer than wait just a few months more?” 

“No. No, it wasn’t that. I do trust you Chi Yue, I know, you would never… I got in my own head, and I let myself believe lies.” He admitted, pressing his head into the stone floor. “I am sorry.”

Chi Yue sniffled, having run out of fire after her reprimand of the ginger monkey, she dropped to her knees and lifted Wukong up from his bow to look at her. “I told you I would help you. I told you, when you are at least able to go a whole day without napping and can walk on your own two feet, we would talk. I told you I would gather the ingredients to make you a sleep tonic potent enough to last seven hundred years. I promised, if by the end of your recovery, you still wanted to sleep, I would brew it for you. I have never lied to you. Not once. So why? Why did you suddenly think I would cheat you?”

“I… I was angry, and in a very bad place… I got lost in the spiral and I doubted you, and everyone else.” Wukong admitted honestly. “I will invite Bai He myself later… apologise for what happened and explain it to her properly.”

“You had better, or so help me, I’ll make you drink bitter tea for a year.” She threatened.

“With sugar?” Wukong dared to cheek, making Chi Yue half laugh and half sob at his weak attempt at humour.

“Yes, you stone headed chimp, with sugar.” She said, and Wukong let her pull him into a hug. “Stupid big brother.”

“Even after all this, I am still your brother?” He asked.

“As if I would ever denounce any of you.” She said, a weak smile on her face. “You should know by now, I am very stubborn and I don’t let go of my family easily. You, Macaque and the old Bull are my big brothers by sworn oath. None of you are ever getting rid of me, even if you do behave like idiots and worry me into early grey hairs.”

A new wave of tears came to Wukong’s eyes as he buried his face in her shoulder, clinging to her tightly.

From behind the door, Macaque sniffed, tucking his head down into his scarf, ignoring the few tears that had escaped his damp eyes.

“Told you Auntie wouldn’t be mean.” MK said, and smacked Macaque’s arm with his tail lightly.

“Hush.” Macaque snipped lightly. “It’s… easy to forget not everyone is two faced, when you’ve lived and endured what we have.”

MK poked his tongue out at that. “Auntie loves us. She wouldn’t hurt us.”

Macaque only nodded, knowing it was pointless to argue.

As he said, Wukong invited Bai He to the Mountain later that day, and even though both Macaque and MK had promised her no one was angry or mad at her, she still kept her head low and wrung her hands tightly around the fastening side of her cardigan, the service cat on her shoulders purring loudly while gently nuzzling her face.

Wukong coaxed her to follow him to one of the side courtyards of the Palace, away from everyone else to where he’d set up a collection of plates with sweet treats and pastries as well as a low swing. He sat with her on the swing, apologising and explaining his reasons for what he had done, all while Tongbi, Wu Zhiqi, Macaque and MK brought tea and extra sweets as well as food for the cat to enjoy while visiting, letting her see for herself that he wasn’t angry nor did he or anyone else blame her for the knife being in his hands. 

There were tears from both of them, but by the time supper was being served, Bai He was able to keep her head up around the other monkeys, and by the time she settled down in MK’s room, surrounded by flowers that gave calming scents and tucked in to the softest pillows and finest blanket, Thunder, Rumble and Savage at her sides and her cat curled up at her chest, she was no longer blaming herself.

“I didn’t mean to upset them…” Shíhòu admitted, leaning against Wu Zhiqi’s side in the shared nest, new tears dripping from his eyes. “I didn’t…”

“We know.” The eldest monkey assured, softly thumbing the tears away. “And they know it too. Chi Yue still loves you, and Bai He, dear child that she is, will heal from this too. It will just take time.” Wu Zhiqi said.

“Time…” Shíhòu repeated, but said nothing more as there were too many thoughts and too many questions in his head.

As the days continued to pass, Shíhòu began to grow restless, fidgeting and unable to sit still for long when not meditating. He began to dream again, and while he did not wake from the dreams, they did unsettle him, leaving him clinging tightly to his bedding, or to one of them, chittering and hooting weakly. It wasn’t just his own thoughts becoming too loud to ignore any longer, the restlessness of his other selves was also becoming overwhelming.

By the thirtieth day, Tongbi brought a heavy pack out of the Palace for them, filled to near bursting with medical herbs, a few previsions and thick furs. “Please be careful, the trip there is long and from what I remember, it’s not at all comfortable.” He fussed and then offered Shíhòu a bottle of slow-acting medicine that would minimize pain from the long journey

“Ick. Why is medicine always bitter?” He whined after drinking the whole bottle, pulling a face at the bitterness of it.

“It’s better than the alternative. The pills only work a few hours at a time and leave a sour taste, and if I had added that to a soup, it would take an hour to even start working.” Tongbi assured, gently tucking a stray fur back into place. “Please remember to eat, that place steals your appetite but you must eat or you will become thin.”

“I promise we will both eat and we will both be careful.” Wu Zhiqi nodded and drew his axe from his back, setting it down carefully before Tongbi. “If anyone dare make a fool’s attempt while I am away, Xīngchén Qiēgē Fǔ will protect all of you, and our home.”

“You won’t be gone long enough for anyone to try.” Tongbi smiled, tucking the axe against his own back and then stepped closer and nuzzled under Wu Zhiqi’s chin with a soft purr. “Our droplet and little ingot are strong and able, and none are foolish enough to try their luck against me.”

“Maybe not,” Wu Zhiqi admitted, gently pressing a kiss to the grey monkey’s forehead. “But I’m not willing to risk you being without every advantage while I and our pebble are away.”

Tongbi smiled and reached out, gently tugging Shíhòu into the embrace with them, nuzzling the younger monkey softly as he gave a weak purr and clung to him.

A clatter and then cheerful laughter echoed from down the hall along with a hoot of outrage. Rumble and Savage raced around the corner, each holding a segment of a tangerine in their mouths as they fled. Thunder, who was right behind them, carried the rest of a half a tangerine in one hand while using the other three limbs to run with the younger voidlings.

They dived for the apparent safety of their ankles and peaked back the way they’d come, chittering behind their hands as Xiaotain, smiling like a fool, skidded around the corner carrying a whole fruit bowl and dived into the light seconds before a shadowy hand could snatch him up by the scruff of the neck.

“He started it.” Xiaotain immediately proclaimed, ducking behind Shíhòu. Hugging that bowl of fruits like a prize. “He bet I couldn’t get away with a whole bowl of fruit without help.”

“You cheated!” Mihou declared only to yelp as a small tail hooked around his foot and made him stumble. “Oi! Savage!”

“I did not!” Xiaotain denied, shaking his head violently while Savage blew a raspberry before hiding behind Shíhòu’s shoulder to avoid the look Mihou sent at him. “I didn’t use Mink to help me pick up the bowl and I didn’t bribe the cubs, I got the bowl on my own and made it halfway down the hall before the twins and Thunder snatched your tangerine.”

Thunder nodded and the twins hooted in agreement. “Not helping Little King, we were hungry. We wanted sweet thing. So we took it.” Thunder explained to Wu Zhiqi, who picked an apple from the bowl and offered it to Xiaotain before taking a cherry for himself.

“Ah, so it is that Mihou is simply a poor sport when it comes to such games.” Tongbi chuckled, cradling Rumble as he climbed up into his arms, splitting the stolen sweet fruit and began to nibble on one half while Savage offered the whole slice he had to Shíhòu.

“Eat. Medicine bitter. Fruit helps.” He chittered.

Shíhòu smiled and let Savage feed him the segment, letting Savage use his arm as a bridge to climb into Tongbi’s arms with Rumble and take the other half of the segment to nibble on himself.

“You’re leaving now?” Xiaotain asked after swallowing a bite of an apple, offering the bowl to Tongbi and Shíhòu, who took a nectarine and small stem of grapes respectively.

“Cousin Xuān is on guard, it will be easier to enter the place we are going unnoticed.” Wu Zhiqi nodded and MK realised it was indeed the first hour of the monkey. “We will be back by the second hour of the monkey.”

“No one up there will make trouble before you get where you're going, right?” Mihou asked, using his tail to sneak the last tangerine from the fruit bowl, much to Xiaotain’s shock before he tucked the bowl further away from Mihou’s reach, pretending not to notice that Shíhòu used that chance to sneak the three peaches from the bowl and the three mangoes, hiding them in his sleeves.

“If they dare, they will not live to speak of it.” Wu Zhiqi asserted.

If there was a shared smile at that statement, no one but the five of them and the three Void cubs would know.

“You have everything you need?” Mihou asked.

“Almost.” Wu Zhiqi said and before Mihou could understand the playful tone, he was suddenly grabbed up alongside Xiaotain, the cubs, Shíhòu and Tongbi in a near bone crushing hug.

Tongbi smiled and wrapped his arms around all of them as well, nuzzling them softly. Xiaotain laughed, dropping the bowl of fruit to his tail to instead focus on clinging to Mihou, stopping the black furred monkey from wiggling away from the nuzzling. Shíhòu hooted in shock before smiling and leaning into the hug, using his tail to tangle with Mihou’s, who gave up when it became clear he wasn’t being let go by either elder monkey or his brothers, and while outwardly he huffed and showed reluctance, the way his tail wound around Shíhòu’s and tucked Xiaotain closer to him was an obvious tell that he was actually enjoying it.

The cubs chittered happily and burrowed into the embrace, letting the eldest King press soft kisses to their heads before moving aside to give him room to bury his nose into the mess of their grey, ginger, black and brown fur and inhale deeply their scents, saying nothing of how Shíhòu did the same, nor how much tighter his hug grew for just a moment. It would only be a few hours for Tongbi, Mihou and Xiaotain, but for Wu Zhiqi and Shíhòu, it would be so much longer before they could return and have this embrace again. No one could shame them for being reluctant to part without some small memories of home to make the separation less painful.

“We will be here when you come home.” Tongbi finally coaxed softly, gently patting Wu Zhiqi’s back.

“We will be no later than the second hour of the monkey.” Wu Zhiqi assured again, letting Tongbi, Mihou and Xiaotain slip from his arms while Shíhòu climbed around and onto his back, holding the heavy pack securely. 

A large nimbus cloud formed under Wu Zhiqi’s feet, thick and dark as on coming thunder, lifting him and Shíhòu easily from the ground and up a few feet. No one said goodbye, and no one commented on the way Tongbi held Mihou’s wrist just tight enough to stop him trying to follow them.

“Ready to go, little pebble?” Wu Zhiqi asked.

“Mn.” Shíhòu nodded.

Wu Zhiqi turned them away from the Mountain and with a low rumble of distant thunder from his nimbus cloud, they sped away.

“They will come back.” Tongbi said quietly once they could no longer see the nimbus.

Xiaotain nodded. “They will.” He affirmed, offering a plum to Mihou while Thunder plucked a pear from the bowl, politely ignoring the tears that were sliding down his face. “Can we make some fruit treats while we wait?” He asked.

It was a distraction, an obvious one, but neither Tongbi or Mihou argued as they went back inside.

They rushed through the clouds and along the underside of the Celestial Realm’s floor, moving at speeds even his own small white nimbus couldn’t match.

It was a little frightening.

The sky tore itself open above them, Shíhòu had enough time to catch sight of Qinglong’s claw before they passed through into another Heavenly Realm, then another, and another and then sharply sped downwards, down, down and deeper until they passed by Tathagata, stood before a shrine at the shore of a vast open body of water.

The Lake of Stillness. The edge of the Three Realms. The line between what was known, what was understood and recorded, and what had been lost from the before, the forgotten and the buried. They crossed over it with such speed that it should have cut the still surface apart like a sweeping blade strike, but instead, the water remained still and unmoved.

“Close your eyes. Take a deep breath and hold it.” Wu Zhiqi instructed, pulling Shíhòu from his back and instead brought him to his chest, holding him tightly as he flung them up into the air. Shíhòu inhaled deeply, holding his breath and tightly closing his eyes as Wu Zhiqi plunged them, nimbus cloud and all, into the water.

There was no splash, no ripple, no disturbance, just stillness. They reached the bed of the lake, and then broke through it.

The way was cold, colder than the deep cold of winter, darker than the deepest depth, and heavier than weight itself. Shíhòu clung to Wu Zhiqi’s chest, unable to stop himself shaking and not daring to open his eyes, trying to hide himself from the feeling of countless eyes that suddenly fell upon him. He couldn’t hide from them, and almost immediately he felt something try to reach for him, something vile, wicked and crueler than anything before could ever hope to be. It did not come close, instead it met the burning heat that swelled forth and then, the countless eyes vanished and turned away as something else within the space, something bigger, something forgotten, something impossible moved.

“Be still.” Wu Zhiqi commanded, shielding the smaller monkey against his chest.

Shíhòu did not dare to even tremble, eyes still tightly shut and breath still trapped in his lungs as that thing, that old, forgotten, impossible thing looked upon them.

There was a whisper of something wrong, something impossible and unknown in the air, a question? An order? A statement?

Shíhòu did not know nor did he want to know.

Wu Zhiqi snarled, pushing against the old thing with force, such that spoke of power enough to be a threat if provoked.

For a moment neither moved, and no sound came.

Then, the old thing was suddenly and violently struck by something even bigger and older, forcing it to ignore them in favour of battling its attacker. 

Wu Zhiqi stirred them away, instead passing through something that felt like a barrier, to a place that was quiet, filled with the scent of cold water and sand and strangely quiet.

“Breath pebble.”

Shíhòu gasped, coughing harshly and panting heavily. “What… what was that?” He asked, still clinging to Wu Zhiqi tightly.

“The true names of those things are unknown to us, they belong to another place. Consider them beasts, no better than Kunpeng.” Wu Zhiqi explained, holding Shíhòu as he shook and panted, rubbing his back to help sooth him. “The space we passed through was the Abyss.”

Shíhòu’s body went stiff and pale.

The Abyss.

He’d learnt that name only by sheer accidental chance. A book that had not been properly returned to its place, thick as a brocaded box with yellowed pages and no title. He’d found it, sat as if forgotten on the high shelf, warm to the touch and faintly smelling of bitter winter flowers and brought it to the Master of the Temple of the Tilted Moon and Three Stars, intending to learn where it belonged so he could properly return it.

He had not understood at first, why the colour had drained so rapidly from the Master’s face, nor why his voice trembled when he’d asked where the book had been and how his cheeky student had found it. He had dutifully explained and shown his Master where the book was. Master had told him the book was unique, and spoke not of power, wealth or merits, but of things the world wanted to forget but shouldn’t. 

He had asked if he could read the book, and after a long silence where Master seemed to be torn, he had said yes, but advised him not to remember what he read unless the time ever came where the world and all he loved truly came to face such an awful thing as the book portrayed.

He had not understood why, even after reading the book in full and dutifully burying the contents deep in his mind, never to be revisited unless truly needed. 

Now he did.

The Abyss was a darkness left behind by the very first life, where only ancient things could live, things so old they were considered cosmic in nature, monsters locked in a state of being that made them heralds of ruin and damnation, the world ending disasters, the cosmic forces that had been given form not to create, not to shelter, or even nurture others like themselves, but to battle, grow and wait for the moment when the Abyss would open wide and they could freely tear across the World and Realms, rending them into nothing but ash and cinders. A place of destroyers, world enders, monsters of apocalypse and harbingers of desolation roamed, battling each other for a sovereign dominance that would never come, for with each fatal blow to one beast, its life would begin anew and it would rise again and again.

Each one capable of bringing endless death and ruin, each one a force that would leave nothing and no one but other monsters of the end to rule a worthless space. Had things gone differently all those years ago, had Wu Zhiqi not split from Chikao Mahou and completely succumbed to the Madness that took him…

“Do not think of it.” Wu Zhiqi instructed softly, “It did not come to pass, I am here, with my mate and my cubs. And I will tear anything and anyone apart if they dare to threaten what is mine. Be they God, Celestial, Mortal, Demon, Primordial or Monster.”

Shíhòu shuddered and shook his head violently. “They shouldn’t exist… They can’t… They were… Master’s book… they were-”

The monsters of the end would only form if and when the world reached a point of hopelessness, a time when every being, no matter how big, small, weak, powerful or statues knew without question that they faced annihilation, a state of ruin from which there was no possible return.

The Calamity that led to the Cycles was bad, but it was not hopeless, and ultimately they had overcome and survived it. 

The Abyss and those monsters should not exist. Not so close to a Heavenly Realm’s edge.

“We long abandoned that space when we formed the Three Realms, it was easy territory for them to take.” Wu Zhiqi said, softly stroking the ginger monkey’s furred head to help sooth him. “It is now a boundary, one so old and so deep only Kunpeng and others like it can exist within it. Waiting for a reason to expand into new space as we who battle against them are forced to move on to newer, safer regions.”

“And… This place?” Shíhòu asked, fearful of the answer.

“This is a place forged from what remained of the battleground against Chikao Mahou and the birth place of Chikao Yuanhou. Fed on my blood and Tongbi’s will so that it may survive in the Abyss as a home for them.” Wu Zhiqi said softly, gently coaxing the younger monkey to look.

They were on a beach of black and red soft grains, a mixture of sand and tiny grain sized shards of glass that had been tumbled smooth, waves of green water cascaded with breaks of white against the shore with a gentle rhythm, washing up more red black sand and smoothed glass before receding to show small shells and stones of all shades of yellow, blue, pink and purple.

The air was scentless, but now he wasn’t so frightened he noticed the burning of his lungs that told him the air wasn’t suitable for mortals. Then, very faintly, he caught the scent of old blood and battle, smoke, ash and charred fur.

There was no sunlight, but something told him it was late in the afternoon.

“What…?” He asked.

“A reformed space.” Wu Zhiqi said, slowly standing up, lifting Shíhòu with him and with steady, confident strides carried him up the beach towards the mottled brown and tanned cliffs. “This place was once part of a heavenly Realm, now it is home to our madness-touched selves.”

“A separate realm?” Shíhòu asked, looking around in wonder and awe.

“Not entirely.” Wu Zhiqi explained. “More like a parallel pocket of time and space. Similar in many ways, but unique enough to be different and thus, not truly connected as the Three Realms are. After Tongbi and I fell into the Lake of Stillness, we battled to its bed and broke through, plunging us both into this space where the Abyss had begun to encroach. Seeing that, and the fact Chikao Mahou refused to stop, triggered the birth of Chikao Yuanhou, allowing her to bring Chikao Mahou to heel and together, the four of us forged this place.”

Shíhòu’s question died in his throat as they crested the clifftops and he saw the landscape beyond.

It was a large island, easily triple the size of Flower and Fruit Mountain when he’d torn it free from the mainland and surrounded it with flaming volcanos. At the far northern edge of the island lay a jagged snowcovered mountain, scarred with deep lines that hid dark shadows and seemed to breathe cooling breezes as it loomed high above them. Closer to them at the western edge, smoking lazily a volcano that seemed to have recently erupted or perhaps perpetually in a state of slow eruption, was oozing lava into the waters, though the underlayers continued to fall and flack away in an unnaturally fast erosion.

To the eastern edge of the island, hills and valleys rolled about the space, with surprisingly lush trees and soft plants under foot, fruit trees held ripe offerings and vine plants grew wild. Calm waters danced in lazy, swaying curls while waterside flowers danced in the breeze.

There were signs of conflict scattered across the landscape, impact craters that had become deep lakes, broken boulders that bore deep claw marks and faded stains. The battle had clearly been a ferocious thing, savage to a point of unspeakable monstrousness, and Shíhòu couldn’t stop the whine that slipped from his throat. Wu Zhiqi soothed him with a soft rumbling sound from deep in his chest, gently nuzzling the younger monkey’s head softly.

“It was not our finest hour. Nor is it something either of us is proud of. But, without it, I would never have become Wu Zhiqi, and Tongbi would never have accepted that the loss of our twins was not any fault of his or mine, simply that it was not the time for us to have cubs.” Wu Zhiqi admitted, “Because of our fight back then, this place has become a space in between spaces. A pocket neither here nor there but stable enough to be accessed and maintained-”

“Can we get to the point?” Shíhòu stiffened in fear, even though the question had come from his own mouth, the words had been spoken with anger, bitterness and a hint of annoyance.

“Mind your tone, old cub of mine.” Wu Zhiqi warned.

“Or what?” Chikao Lingming dared to question, forcing himself to the forefront.

The air grew hot suddenly, the pools of that green white water began to bubble and steam. 

“So recklessly eager! Such willful abandon! That one is mine, without a doubt.” A broken, barking laughter came from somewhere nearby. It was not a loud sound, but something about it sent shudders along Chikao Lingming’s spine and left him feeling less like an adult and more like a cub who’d been caught lacking manners by a parent.

“Steady.” Wu Zhiqi soothed, and set the ginger monkey down on his own two feet.  “Yes, he is yours, and I am here to give him the same opportunity we gave you.”

He said nothing of how Chikao Lingming had stepped just a little further back as if to keep him between himself and whoever was coming.

“Oh-ho? Is he so alike to me that he can’t be truly tamed with a blood deal?” The voice asked as the sky darkened and the scent of smoke, ash and blood slowly came closer. “It would be a nice change, having our son here to keep us company, not just our gleeful little shadling.”

“Shadling?” Chikao Lingming asked then yelped as something yanked his tail so hard he fell on to his rear. He snarled and turned around, ready to strike.

And froze.

There on the ground, stretching from his own feet in a lazy recline, lay a familiar shape, partly merged with his shadow in a mess of violet and rouge, two eyes, clear and alert one moment then glassy and hazed the next, filled with mischief and twisted glee, lips pulled back into an unnatural smile to show sharp brilliant white teeth that flashed solid for one moment then melted into dark violet the next before the shadow vanished.

The shape was well formed and noticeably more feminine when solid, hidden beneath loose fitting rags and long fur. The death scar over the shadow’s chest was small, and unlike the one he’d seen on Chikao Yuanhou’s neck, had not worsened, instead it was clean and scabbed over, it would not heal further, but it would never become a festering mess.

Chikao Lingming knew this shadow.

“Liu’er?” He asked, and the smiling shadow flickered into view again, this time leaning against Wu Zhiqi’s back for all of a second, before falling through him and sinking into the ground again. “But, how? The Staff severed you from your Origin cleanly. You should be-”

Gone. Erased by the sheer force of the power his own hand had used to end the Madness before it could consume Mihou.

“Like you, I am very stubborn.” The shadow chuckled lazily, circling them at a distance like a shark circling something interesting in its waters. “And thanks to our Mother and Father, I am also very, very good at escaping. Each death my Origin faced in the repeating cycles was a reformation of my form, allowing me to slowly build up to this pitiful but usable form of mine, and also allowing me to mend the broken fragments of my Origin’s mind. Though, I admit this forced repeat of a lifetime did not do my Origin’s heart or mind any favours.”

“Death is not the end for us, little cobble stone.” The voice assured and Chikao Lingming noticed a shape slowly coming into view, the air growing hotter with each lumbering step.

Where Wu Zhiqi was tall and broad, Chikao Mahou was a giant of ember red fur with streaks of charcoal black over solid muscle carved from years of hardships endured to survive, to thrive and to keep going. There were iron shackles on his wrists and ankles, and an iron collar sat heavily around his neck, broken chains dangled uselessly as he moved. Each step he took seemed to dislodge a few flacks of thin ash that shriveled away before they hit the ground. His body littered with bloody gashes, torn flesh and matted fur, ashen white scars marked his arms, chest, hands and face, some from weapons, some from teeth and claws, but all of them were minimal compared to the wound at his chest, festering as the severed halves of his heart beat loud enough to echo in the space.

“It is just a means to live truly for ourselves, until we are needed again.” He explained as Chikao Liu’er coiled up around his arm as a shadow and laid solid across his back, purring and nuzzling into the tangled and matted fur there.

“Father’s back is warm.” The shadow stated, acting spoiled as her eyes became glassy.

“Then stay there and rest a while.” Chikao Mahou indulged her and passed the shadow a small, dark coloured stone. Then he turned to look at the ginger monkey before him with eyes that burned bright as bubbling lava.

Chikao Lingming suddenly felt very small under that gaze.

“You know better than anyone the torment our cubs have faced because of the wretched one’s mismanagement of the matter.” Wu Zhiqi said, his voice calm and steady. “If healing is to happen properly, a reform is needed.”

“And while I, my mate and first cub are wholly contained by a blood deal and this place, our second cub is a troublesome child. Too old to accept the other selves and their love, too old to change the mindset that is long rooted in fact and evidence. But not yet so old that he is beyond help.”

“Help?” Chikao Lingming repeated.

“Our baby brother is proof that we can, if given a true chance and an understanding is reached early, peacefully co-exist with our Origin.” Liu’er stated, a chuckle in her words as her tail lazily flicked to and fro. “The trouble is, unlike us, he is still just a little baby, easily taught, easily accepted and even more, easily molded to suit the needs of his Origin. Theirs is a mutually benefiting arrangement, where ours, much like Mother and Father’s, are beyond such a point.”

“So you, my troubled little cobble stone, have a choice to make.” Chikao Mahou explained. 

“What kind of choice?” Chikao Lingming asked.

“What else, Lingming?” Liu’er asked, smiling and crooked and unnaturally wide smile, as giggles echoed from the shadows. “Stay as you are, and be pitiful and pathetic, or! Reformation and Separation, entirely and wholly, from your Origin, just as I and Father have! That is,” She suddenly reached out with an unnaturally long arm and roughly tipped Chikao Lingming’s face upwards as her eyes focused again. “If you can bear the pain of it.”

“Liu’er.” Chikao Mahou’s voice was quiet, but the warning tone was clear. Instantly the giggling stopped and the shadowy form sank back, eyes going glassy again as she put on the perfect act of submissive and meek behaviour that no one believed for a moment.

“What your sibling says is true.” Wu Zhiqi said, stirring the conversation to the point of the matter. “I brought you here, so you and all your selves could see the options before you. If we do nothing, there is no path forward and you will all continue to deteriorate and eventually, you will begin to weaken until the only thing keeping any of you alive is your immortality.”

“An unworthy end for such a hero.” Liu’er asserted with a huff. “To be a husk, moving only when coaxed, speaking broken words, lost in pitiful memories. Truly a wretched end, unbefitting of the one who reminded Heaven how powerless they are.”

“What are my other choices?” Shíhòu asked after a moment.

“The first two choices are this; those of you who wish to stay awake and continue to heal, to walk the path to reconciling with Mihou, and begin making up for the time we lost as a family, can return with me after those of you who wish to hold onto the anger, stew in the resentment of all the wrongs done to you and the wrongs you yourselves have done to others and yourselves, form together and become a cast off segment of the whole self. The same way Chikao Mahou and Chikao Liu’er have from me and Mihou. This way, a balance is found and both sides have what they want, without loss of life, risk of insanity or worse.”

“Why not a blood deal like Moth- Like Yuanhou?” Chikao Lingming asked.

“Would you honour one?” Chikao Mahou asked in return and though his mouth opened to lie ‘yes’, a look from the older monkey silenced him. “The matter with Azure Lion’s rebirth, the continued distrust and hatred of the Heavens, the Great Tang Monk’s continued reluctance to admit his mistakes, Mihou’s years of tormenting you with the scent of others on him, while you lay enduring Ruts alone, and countless other wrongs would not chance or lessen, just because you are bound by a deal to stay your hand. You would still resent, you would still hate, and you would still hurt. You would have no way to vent that and eventually, like me in my youth, and just like you did before, you would lash out. And next time, there is no guarantee Baby Xiaotain will be spared the sight of that outburst, or worse still, he may be the one to do to you what your Origin did to Liu’er.”

No!  No, that can NOT be allowed to happen!  It couldn’t! Not to Xiaotain.  We can’t do that to him.

“Steady, little pebble.” Wu Zhiqi soothed softly, as he caught the ginger monkey before he could stumble from the overwhelming panic and refusal of all his selves.

“You understand now, little brother? Why this is the only option for you?” Liu’er asked, one hand reaching out to gently tussle the fur atop Shíhòu’s head. Her hand was cool, and the touch was soothing and almost tender, stopping the onslaught of refusals and anger from all the selves within him raging. “Lingming and I, we are both far too old and too stubborn to let go of old slights, just because the offender has no memory of their wrongs. Our mother is willing to put aside the anger for a time, to let it coil tight in her chest and burn, but only so that she can use it to protect us in the event we can not defend ourselves. And our baby brother? He is the luckiest of us all. He doesn’t need a deal or reform because he is already accepted and loved, despite the destructive power he wields.”

“You would have grown bored had you stayed, Liu’er.” Wu Zhiqi said, as if he understood something in the shadow’s quiet toned words. “The world is slow to change, and even with the stagnation of the cycles, changes and new things will be years away from being discovered or found. You would have been stuck with nothing to do.”

“How dull. At least here, I have fun things to play with.” The shadow chuckled, using her tail to pick up another stone and after a few turns of it in her palm the colour changed from a silverish sheen to a dull green before it fell through her hands and landed with a soft thud to the ground again.

“Do not laugh at your sibling.” Chikao Mahou scolded softly.

“I wasn’t laughing.” Shíhòu said, having been able to slip back into the forefront now the other selves were calming down.

“You were not, dear Shíhòu, the part of you that is ours was.” Liu’er said, a teasing smirk on her unnaturally wide mouth as she gently prodded the ginger monkey’s forehead with her claw tip, a reprimand in action, but too soft to be truly harmful. “He thinks hiding will spare us knowing, he forgets he is family and thus, unable to escape.”

“It will hurt?” Shíhòu asked. “The reform?”

“Yes.” Chikao Mahou nodded. “It will hurt. In order to achieve this split of selves, you must separate enough of your chi, your mind, your heart, even a small cut of your own core and soul, and cultivate it into a permanent form.You will feel the separation in its eternity and given your current state of being, even with medicine to numb and sooth the pain, you are essentially cutting out a part of yourself.”

“But you need not rush, dear Shíhòu.” The shadow said, climbing down from Chikao Mahou’s back and crouching before Shíhòu. Even crouched, Liu’er was taller and bigger than the ginger monkey, but the effort to shrink and become less helped ease the tension and fear somewhat. “It was more painful for us. Father’s split hurt the worse, because he tore himself free from his Origin when he was struck dead. It took me many cycles to reach this form, because I used the time before my Origin’s death to cultivate a small amount of the severance early each time the cycles began anew. After each death, I formed a body of my own here with Father’s help. It was still a painful process, but far less so than Father’s had been when he split from his Origin. But you are lucky, you have not suffered a death as we have, and so, as long as the split is a mutual agreement between you, it will be cleaner and thus, not as painful as ours had been.”

“Less than dying, at least.” Chikao Mahou said. “It will not be an easy task, if you choose this. But things that are truly worth doing are never painless.”

“If- What’s the second option?” Chikao Lingming asked, cutting off Shíhòu before he could question something. “You’ve never been kind. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t have something to gain.”

The two elders smiled matching, cruel smiles that made Chikao Lingming shudder violently, regretting his question.

“The second option is that your sibling, mother and I will make you, and you alone, split from your Origin, in body, core and soul, by force.” Chikao Mahou said. “It will be more painful than dying, for both you and the other selves, but where they will recover quickly, you will be left in a state no better than a babe. Small, helpless, weak, and utterly dependent upon us to survive.”

“And considering we won’t get to fuss and coo over our baby brother, unless he decides to come visit with Mother in the future,” Liu’er stated, eyes becoming focused and sharpening like blades with unspoken delight. “I’m sure you can guess how much fun Mother and I’ll have with you in the aftermath, if that is the choice you make.”

“... I’m not going to ask.” Shíhòu said and the shadow laughed, as if she knew Chikao Lingming had gone so far as to actually hide behind the other selves to get away from the idea of being in such a weak state and at the mercy of the two females.

“Wise idea.” Chikao Mahou assured, the cruelty from moments ago seeping away. “Now, what were you going to say before that troublesome cobble stone interrupted?”

“I was going to ask, if Sun Wukong also splits from me and stays here to sleep, will there still be a way for him to speak with MK when he wakes?” Shíhòu asked.

Of all the other selves, Sun Wukong had been the one to endure the brunt of the consequences of their actions, and was the one who had first suggested the idea of sleeping. But Sun Wukong was also the one who had taught MK the most, and had become attached to the boy despite his best efforts to keep a distance between them… 

“For a time, yes.” Wu Zhiqi said honestly, gently tussling Shíhòu’s head fur. “But the longer Sun Wukong remains split from you, the weaker the link he shares you with will become, until it is only a single thread, enough to maintain a way to draw him back to you, should the need ever come that you need to be whole, but beyond that, he will be separate from you, as Chikao Mahou and Chikao Liu’er are from me and Mihou.”

“So, he might not be able to come back easily, if at all?” Shíhòu asked.

“That is a possibility, but only if he splits from you the same way Lingming would split from you. There is another way that can be used, one that would allow Sun Wukong to return to you after he has slept a while.” Liu’er offered. “It is the third choice we offer you.”

“What way?” Shíhòu questioned after a moment.

“Sun Wukong, unlike Chikao Lingming who would be split from you down to only the smallest link, would only go dormant, allowing you to transfer him into a hollow shell, that shell would become his personal slumber space, remaining with you until he was ready to return to you.” Chikao Mahou explained.

“What kind of shell?”

Chikao Mahou reached out, using the claw tip of his thumb to slice his own finger, the blood hissing as it touched the air forming into a small droplet shape before shifting, growing and changing until it formed an egg-like shape that was comically small in the palm of his hand. 

“Because it was made here, the shell will be unbreakable, and allow Sun Wukong to rest undisputed for as long as he wishes.” Liu’er explained. “The same can be done for all the selves of you who wish to sleep.”

“This is a painless effort, and would be better to do first, as it will allow you to focus solely on the task of cultivating Chikao Lingming a body and then sever him from you.” Chikao Mahou added.

“But doing this will leave you weakened.” Liu’er warned. “Because Sun Wukong has spent so long at the forefront of your mind, he is partly tied to your powers. Thus, until Sun Wukong’s return to you, you will not be able to use Ruyi Jungu Bang to their fullest extent without exhorting yourself, and you will not be able to properly access the whole of your many abilities and talents. Although, given the situation you are currently in, I very much doubt that will be a problem.”

“It won’t.” Wu Zhiqi assured. 

There was a promise in that assurance meant for Shíhòu and for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t reluctant to accept it.

“So, little Shíhòu,” Chikao Mahou asked with a smile. “What is your choice?”

Shíhòu was quiet for a moment, then nodded.

Macaque lay on his stomach along a tree branch, his head cushioned on his arms while his tail and legs hung limply. The baking had kept him focused on trying to stop MK and the cubs stealing the fruit slices before they could be baked into cakes and buns, but now those treats were in the oven to rise and golden, Tongbi had stayed to clean up from baking, leaving Macaque to supervise MK bathing the cubs. Though it seemed that now they were clean, Rumble and Savage weren’t willing to get out of the water, and were instead happy to swim about and chase the lingering bubbles from the soap and splash at MK while he was washing the lingering flour and dough from Thunder’s fur.

It hadn’t even been two hours since Wukong and Wu Zhiqi had left and no matter what Macaque tried, he could not hear them.

He sighed heavily and buried his face in his arms.

He knew, through that tiny thread that was his only tether to his own other self, that there was no reason he ought to be so uneasy. For all that he hated himself for ignoring her back then, she had been kind enough to give their tether a gentle tug, just enough to let him know she was there and, likely, keeping herself busy with hosting Wu Zhiqi and Wukong.

Water suddenly covered him, startling the attempted whispering from both Past and Future as he jumped back with a startled hoot, looking down at Savage and Rumble, who were happily laughing from the water below him. 

MK, who had been rinsing the soapy residue from Thunder’s fur, looked both stunned and then wisely stepped back with his still soapy hands up in surrender. “Wasn’t anything to do with us.” He said as Thunder shook her head violently, sending excess soap and water to all sides.

“Not us, not us at all.” She insisted.

Macaque looked down at the younger cubs again, finding them looking at him with playful glints in their eyes.

They knew. They knew he was unhappy because he couldn’t find the person he wanted, and they knew he was worried, and so, they did what they knew best to distract him. They were trying to pull him into a game, and distract him from the flow of time.

Alright, if they wanted a game, they’d have one. Macaque dropped into a shadow, a moment later, Savage and Rumble hooted in shock as water and shadows surged up and soaked them both, then they were both heaved up and ticked, leaving them both howling and laughing.

MK smiled at the scene, politely ignoring the redness of Macaque’s eyes.

“Is good thing.” Thunder said. “Play passes time faster.”

“Yes it does.” MK nodded. “Should we join them?” He asked.

Thunder thought about it for a moment then smiled. “Finish cleaning first, then play.” She decided.

MK nodded again and set about finishing helping her rinse the soap out of her fur.

Settling Sun Wukong was, as Chikao Mahou had said, the easier task. It took all of twelve hours and left him tired enough to sleep deeply for a solid eight hours without dreaming. He woke curled against Wu Zhiqi’s chest, the now warm shell Chikao Mahou had formed now wound in a thin metal wrap and fastened around his neck with a strip of tanned leather, faintly aware that within it, Sun Wukong, Great Sage Equal to Heaven, was deep in slumber. He stayed there, listening to Wu Zhiqi’s heartbeat as the larger monkey sang a soft lullaby, Liu’er laid nearby, feigning sleep while shadows coiled and curled around her form, which seemed to better retain its shape and mass.

Chikao Yuanhou, who had been absent before, was seated on a smoothed stone, head bowed and slowly working rounded beads that Shíhòu refused to think were anything but stone through her fingers, softly reciting something that sounded like a scripture, but did not follow the same pattern of verses or rhythm of the ones he’d heard from the Monk or later from Guanyin.

“They are scriptures of the Underworld and from before the Three Realms were formed, little cobble stone.” She answered the unasked question. “Only a rare few of us remain who recall them so vividly. If you wish, I will teach them to you while you are resting between your cultivation.”

Shíhòu nodded.

And so every day, after Shíhòu and Chikao Lingming exhausted themselves from the grueling task of slowly untangling themselves from each other, numbing the threads between them before severing them, leaving them both aching and sore in so many ways. Shíhòu would sit or lay in the warmth of the thick furs while Wu Zhiqi performed acupuncture, listening to Chikao Yuanhou tell the story of how she and Chikao Mahou had tamed and shaped what they called Turtle Island into a stable home and how later it had also become a home for Liu’er, who spent her free time between patrolling with them to meditate and cultivate the energy of Turtle Island to slowly develop a more solid form for herself.

They had no palace here, nor a hut, just a deep cave with dug out rooms, filled with warmth, fresh fruits that were larger than anything Shíhòu had ever seen before. There was also often the scent of cooking meat Shíhòu didn’t want to know the origin of, and pretended not to see the blood of a good hunt on Chikao Liu’er and Chikao Mahou’s lips. Something that was much easier when listening to Yuanhou’s stories.

Days grew steadily into weeks, then months and eventually years and decades, and while there weren’t any obvious threats, Shíhòu never truly relaxed. Watching the Chikao elders move and work in a harmonious way, acknowledging him and Wu Zhiqi’s presences, but where Liu’er and Yuanhou spoke casually with Wu Zhiqi, Mahou was often quiet and only spoke when necessary.

There were nights, sat beside Liu’er while Wu Zhiqi slept and Mahou sparred with Yuanhou, if Shíhòu watched the sky long enough, he could see bodies overhead, giant bodies, moving and battling against each other, fins, wings, claws, feathers and hide moving in a beautiful brutal silent dance.

“They can not reach us.” Liu’er assured, laying on her back with one leg hooked over the opposite knee, tail tossing a stone up and down lazily. The sparring had become quite a bloody affair between the two elders and now they were off bathing at one of the smaller lakes, leaving Liu’er and the ginger monkey to wait for them to return.

“They’ve tried?” Shíhòu asked, watching a long scarred scaled body twist itself into brutalizing knots around another equally long and scarred scaled body.

“Still do, from time to time.” The bigger monkey nodded, a smile playing at her lips as she made a show of inspecting her long claws. “But as I am sure you’ve realised, we are very protective of what is ours. This island is the only place we can rest easy and enjoy the years we have until either a great calamity strikes and we are called back to our Origins to fight it off, or the Abyss breaks open and all the restraints finally come off.”

“And you would prefer the latter option?” Shíhòu asked.

“Anything that gives me an excuse to rip the Void open and unleash the beasts within it.” Liu’er admitted with a chuckle. “But the day it happens, only Kunpeng will dare try their luck, and they have already tasted defeat at Mother and Father’s hands. They know better than others of their ilk what it means to suffer at our claws and fangs.”

“But why do they keep trying?” Shíhòu asked.

“Because they see us as threats to their goals, and that is something that can not be tolerated.” Liu’er said. “After all, they live only to bring about the apocalyptic ends of the known worlds to which they are born to one day ruin. We three, soon to be four, are anomalies to that mindset. Yes, we could be like them, we proved that with how savagely we behaved when touched by the Madness, but instead, we have chosen a truce and instead of destroying the world as they would, or protecting it as our Origins do, we are idle. Neither fighting nor attempting to change, we are simply here and that, more than anything, scares them.”

“Why?”

“We have the power to not only ruin the world and realms, but all the known cosmos if we so wished, and yet, we have chosen to do nothing.” Liu’er said. “Why wouldn’t creatures of ruination and slaughter fear a being who can kill them all, but is choosing to simply lay still and rest?”

Shíhòu thought about it, and despite himself, shuddered.

Tongbi carefully tucked a blanket around the three cubs, with full bellies and tired out from the games they’d played, they’d dropped off into a midday nap.  

Mihou and Xiaotain were a few feet away, Mihou flat on his stomach, grumbling softly about cheating little brothers while Xiaotain sat on Mihou’s back, a large watermelon, the prize of the game in his tail, beaming happily while picking stray leaves and grass from the elder monkey’s dark fur.

Mihou smiled suddenly, and before Xiaotain didn’t have the time to guess what was coming before Mihou sank into his own shadow and then pounced on the brown monkey, sending them both tumbling in the grass again, the watermelon left abandoned in the grass beside Tongbi as the two rolled around laughing and tormenting each other. 

The sun was still warm above them, lazy clouds drifting by as birds fluttered here and there, filling the air with melodies. The perfect day for playing and relaxing and it seemed Xiaotain and the cubs determined efforts had managed to drag the more playful nature of Mihou to the forefront and he was content to waste as much time as possible playing. With a light huff, Tongbi leant back on his hands and smiled, watching the clouds roll by overhead while listening to Mihou and Xiaotain tussle in the grass over who got the first bite of watermelon, knowing full well the answer was neither of them.

There were days, usually when Chikao Lingming felt there was nothing to show for all their efforts, when tensions ran high, leading to small outbursts of temper at best and at worst, a very nasty hangover or night of delayed meditation due to withdraw, which usually earned Lingming not only a stern reprimand from his elders, but a reminder that the more time he wasted, the longer they’d have to wait to split from each other, and if he caused too many delays, option two would become the most time effective method to achieve their desired goal.

Where before, Lingming would have argued and snarled at such a threat, now he seemed to cower and actively hide himself inside the mindscape to escape, though such antics did not stop Liu’er laughing at the display. Usually this led to Shíhòu receiving a soft tap to his forehead from Liu’er’s tail and a reminder that running away to hide wouldn’t be an option forever. Shíhòu hadn’t understood at first, why it amused Liu’er so much to see Lingming in such destress, not until Wu Zhiqi told him that Liu’er was flirting in her own twisted way, and by hiding, Lingming was both acknowledging the flirting and accepting it. 

“Likely, once the two of you are split from each other, it will become a game for them,” Wu Zhiqi explained, picking dead fur from Shíhòu’s back after another such event, Liu’er having gone off to somewhere else with Yuanhou, Mahou was tending a cooking pot while Wu Zhiqi groomed Shíhòu.

“One that will no doubt end up with at least one of them having to be treated for careless bite marks.” Chikao Mahou stated.

“After everything that’s happened between Mihou and I?” Shíhòu asked, catching the unspoken meaning of those words.

“You and Mihou have your relationship. Lingming and Liu’er have theirs. There is no law or rule that prevents that, nor is there any reason that one pair should mirror the other.” Mahou said, serving two bowls of the hot soup he had been tending. “It is why, even after all these years, Yuanhou has refused to recite any of the holy scriptures of the Buddhist Heavens as her Origin does, both have their own beliefs and views on the matter, and both respect the other’s choices even if they do not personally agree. And why I will not hesitate to rip the Heavens apart at the slightest provocation, where my Origin takes every measure of restraint to give them abundant chances when they deserve none.”

Shíhòu huffed. “To be fair, Heaven is only now starting to try and change because Azure caused the Realms to rip and tear apart. You ripping them apart might have helped that happen faster.”

“I tried once, you are looking at the resulting beating I got from your mother for it.” Mahou recalled and Shíhòu chuckled behind a hand.

“Don’t encourage him, little pebble.” Wu Zhiqi said. “He won’t stop.”

“Would you?” Shíhòu said without thinking and in the moment of shock, scrambled behind Wu Zhiqi, hiding in the one spot Wu Zhiqi couldn’t reach around and snag him easily with his arms or tail, where he was safe from reprimand while covering his own mouth.

That hadn’t been Chikao Lingming’s thoughts, or him speaking through Shíhòu.

Chikao Mahou laughed, a sound that shook the whole island. “Good! Very good! You are adjusting nicely, little Shíhòu. Very good indeed.” He praised, filling the bowl meant for Shíhòu with another spoonful.

Wu Zhiqi chuckled. “Being around Liu’er has been good for you.” He praised quietly.

“You… aren’t mad?” Shíhòu asked in surprise.

“Come here.” Wu Zhiqi commanded softly and slowly Shíhòu came back to sit in front of Wu Zhiqi again. “Why would I be mad at you for speaking honestly?”

“... Because I was rude?”

“Are you asking me, or telling me?” Wu Zhiqi asked and Shíhòu struggled to find an answer. “We are family, Shíhòu. Before anything else, that is the truth that binds us. If you don’t feel safe enough to speak honestly and openly, the way Liu’er does with her elders, not only did Tongbi and I fail as parents, but as brothers as well. What you said was truthful, I would not stop if I were given reason to start any kind of assault against the Heavens, thus, while blunt, you were not rude.”

“There’s a different?” Shíhòu asked.

“Bluntness is honest to the point of stopping arguments,” Liu’er explained, peeling herself from the wall and gently poking Shíhòu’s forehead with her tail tip. “Rudeness is one's lack of skill in maintaining the upper hand without resorting to petty tricks and scheming to win an argument. Or so Mother says.”

“It is good that you are growing bolder, dear Shíhòu,” Yuanhou expressed as she came in, a heavy sack of fruit and wild herbs on her back, one hand gently tussling his head. “It means you are reaching a point where you and Lingming are stabilising without each other.”

“So, it’s a sign of our progress?” Shíhòu questioned.

“Progress, and stability.” Yuanhou nodded. “You will be ready to fully split soon, the hardest part of the reform.”

“Its going to hurt more than it does now, isn’t it.” Shíhòu sighed in defeat.

“As I said before, things that are truly worth doing are never painless.” Mahou said, setting the bowl of soup down for him. “Eat. You will need your strength.”

As predicted, even though Xiaotain had won the game, the first bite of the watermelon went to Old Beng, who had come outside to enjoy the weather while he read a book, and after cutting the rest of the melon into cubes, the second went to Tongbi.

Mihou had huffed, but ultimately accepted the defeat when he was offered the third cube while Xiaotain took the fourth and set the rest aside for the troop to pick from at their leisure. 

Now, the brown furred monkey was pretending not to notice the way Tongbi used one foot to hold Mihou’s tail, preventing him from slipping into the shadows while being groomed, all while making rough sketches of the scene, both for references and also for a little brotherly blackmail for later. Tongbi said nothing, only smiling as Mihou’s ears fluttered in his sleep. 

Five hours had passed, bringing them into the early afternoon, the rest of the day could be spent with training, games and maybe another nap, by then, it wouldn’t be necessary to keep Mihou distracted from the flow of time, and the worries of possibilities the future might bring. And if, later tonight, when everyone was home and settled for the night, the sketched image of Mihou soundly sleeping with his head on Tongbi’s lap, a flower crown laid crookedly over his head was shown to Wu Zhiqi, Xiaotain might just find an extra apricot treat waiting for him in the morning.

It hurt so much.

“Steady your breathing, Shíhòu.” Wu Zhiqi coaxed from his left, one hand bracing his back as he struggled to keep his breaths calm.

This was the part of the reform that was both the longest and most dangerous.

The work of cultivating was done, all the things that linked Chikao Lingming to Shíhòu were split as far as they could be without a body to host the auburn clone, and so, the task of forming that shell was now all that remained. Had it been as simple as forming a clone body, it would have been easy and painless, but that was not that. This was forging a wholly and completely separate Chikao Lingming from himself, making him independent and sovereign. 

The body was not a copy of his own, this body was after all, being made to survive Turtle Island’s environment and thus, needed to be able to grow much bigger and more muscular than his own, and that required a lot more focus and energy then an identical replica. To make this body, Shíhòu had to reach a point between meditation and cultivation, and now, he had to let Chikao Lingming pull himself free of all his control and influence. Let the auburn clone cut the now hair thick threads that connected them and let him control the formation and growth of the body that would become his.

It could not be rushed, that would put them both at risk of being forced back together if Chikao Lingming suffered any sudden pain, and if the link between them wasn’t properly cut to the bear minimum as it was between Wu Zhiqi and Chikao Mahou, there was a chance they’d both go insane. 

So, Wu Zhiqi was sat behind Shíhòu, slowly feeding the smallest drops of his core chi into Shíhòu’s body to sustain his energy and prevent him from passing out while Chikao Yuanhou sat across from them both, holding the auburn aura of Chikao Lingming between her palms, acting as an anchor point for Lingming until he could shape a form for himself. Softly chanting the forgotten sutras to give them both something to focus on besides the pain.

While at first it had only been uncomfortable, the longer the process went on, the more discomfort became pain until it was like he was back at that moment, when the furnace broke open and cold air touched his blistered skin, setting his already ruined nerves ablaze…

“The pain will pass, Shíhòu. You need only endure it.” Liu’er’s voice assured, distant and soft, but confident. The words of someone who had done this before, endured the pain and all that came with it and succeeded. “Just breathe and it will pass.”

It hurt. It hurt so much, but not to the point where pain overrode focus. After regaining his breathing patterns, he continued to focus on maintaining it again.

“Take your time, Lingming.” Mahou said, calm and simple from his place. “You need not be perfectly identical to Shíhòu.”

There was no verbal answer, but a pulse of raw energy from the newly forming core was enough to show acknowledgement. They both lost track of time, of their surroundings and everything else around them until they only remained aware of their own breathing and the soft chanting from Chikao Yuanhou.

Shíhòu felt something in him shift suddenly, and then his body stiffened, reminded of the weight of that Mountain, crushed to the point his bones had cracked in some places and been utterly crushed in others. Then warmth, soft, welcoming and tender, settled around him, pushing the memory of that crushing weight away and replacing it instead with the comfort of an embrace as the world faded to near darkness.

“It’s alright, bǎobèi.” Wu Zhiqi’s voice assured from above him, a shapeless mass of red fur and unclear features. 

“Bà…” Shíhòu breathed, aware enough to understand he had reached the limit of his abilities, and would no longer be able to help, not without risk of harming himself. “I…”

“You’ve done enough for now, dear Shíhòu.” Liu’er praised, another shapeless mass of dark fur that came close as a large peeled and pithless blood orange was carefully pressed into his hands. “Eat this and rest a while.”

“Enough?” Shíhòu repeated. “It’s over?”

“The split is complete, Shíhòu, you can do no more now then rest and recover the energy you have lost. Chikao Lingming, you must form your own body, as you wish it to be. You are still young enough to grow a few more years on your own, so do not rush your body to adulthood.” Yuanhou said gently, her voice soft and coaxing. “Take it slowly. And if you need to rest, say so, we can hold you steady while you recenter and regain your focus.”

Another pulse of energy answered her, and while Shíhòu couldn’t see anything beyond shapes of colour around him, he knew despite his present company, he was in no danger and so, he let himself sink into his father’s arms and relax, slowly breaking segments from the blood orange he’d been offered and slowly eating them.

“A watched pot takes the longest to boil, little droplet.”

“I know.” Mihou acknowledged, but still did not turn to look away from the far horizon.

Tongbi gave a fond huff and sat beside him. Training had taken longer than expected, as Xiaotain had wanted to try and spar with the help of his clones, using the chance to not only let Mink burn off to build up energy but also as a way to see if it was possible to build up Artsy and Porty’s endurance to match Del’s. 

It had not been an easy session, as it seemed even with all the focus and intent to stay, neither Artsy and Porty could bear through the pain of multiple rapid strikes the way Del could. A side effect from the forced restart of the False Cycle.

In the end, it ultimately didn’t matter to the clones, as they had privately agreed that if ever the need came and Mink couldn’t help for any reason, Del would be the first choice to protect Bai He from harm and hold off any danger while Artsy, the weakest but fastest of the clones would carry her to the nearest safety with Porty acting as a second shield if Del went down before Artsy could reach safety.

But, as Tongbi had known, even with the longer training session, Mihou couldn’t ignore the absence of the ginger monkey who had only just begun to accept him without fear again any longer, and after cool down stretches, he had slipped away and settled himself on the beach, watching the far horizon.

“The cubs?” Mihou asked.

“Helping your baby brother with troop deliveries.” Tongbi answered, smiling as he gently tucked loose strands of fur behind Mihou’s ears. “They will join us when they are done.”

“Mn.” Mihou acknowledged softly.

“Something else upsets you.” Tongbi stated calmly, Mihou shook his head, then after a moment he nodded. “Do you want to speak of it?”

“... I’ve been hearing whispers again.” He admitted after a long silence, turning away from the horizon to look at Tongbi with shining eyes. “Crying, arguments, showing, flesh tearing, blood dripping… It’s… really bad.”

Tongbi opened his arms in a silent offer and Mihou clawed closer, clinging to the older monkey tightly while trying to hide in his chest, shaking as tears slipped free. “They are only possibilities, my droplet. Not certainties, not truths.”

“Not yet.” Mihou sniffled. “They can be… if I…”

“Stop.” Tongbi said, gently pulling Mihou back to look at him. “Close your eyes, my son. Calm your heart and still your mind.” He instructed, gently tumbling away the tears as Mihou obeyed, taking a few steadying breaths to help steady himself and calm his mind. “Now, listen to my heart beat, center yourself.”

“Your… why yours and not mine?” Mihou asked.

“Because my heart is unbiased to the whispers of what could be and thus, unchanging.” Tongbi said, softly reaching up and gently pressed his index and middle finger to Mihou’s forehead. “Listen to my heartbeat, and then let the whispers come to you.”

Mihou was quiet for a time, finding the steady, unhurried beat of Tongbi’s heart slow with immortality but powerful unwavering and familiar, focusing on it in the here and now as his lower ears twitched, remembering that same heartbeat in the distant past, years long since passed, all while his upper ears, shining a deep ruby red, listened…

As before, he heard crying, shouts and arguments that got out of hand, but though his own heart ached and sank at the possibilities, the steady, calm beat of Tongbi’s heart never changed, continuing over again and again, and with each beat, the quieter the crying grew until it slipped away entirely. The shouting and the arguments dissolved into the distance and then…

Mihou’s eyes opened wide, shocked and utterly lost as he looked at Tongbi, who only smiled and nodded, silently encouraging him to keep listening.

It was faint, as if so far away that it couldn’t possibly be an outcome and yet, the longer he listened, the clearer and louder it grew.

Laughter…

Genuine, true, heartfelt laughter… not only that, but words. Words of apology, of explanation, of affection, and words he’d never thought he’d hear again, spoken at first in soft whispers, timid and uncertain, then with hope, then certainty and confidence…

It was a possible future, and somehow, it was the clearest thing he had ever heard in all his life.

“How?” He asked.

“Your abilities are natural, a gift passed down in part from me and in part from your father, but we were not here for you when you needed someone to help you train it properly. When you lost the use of your right eye, you chose not to continue self teaching and so, you have never learnt the truest reach of it.” Tongbi explained, gently brushing his hands over the six petal shaped ears of his son, quietly brushing the whispering away. “I hope you might let me make a start in correcting that mistake of ours.”

Mihou leaned back into Tongbi’s chest, holding tightly as new tears ran down his cheeks, but they were no longer tears of fear and dread. “Thank you, Mǔqīn.”

Tongbi smiled, holding the younger monkey tightly.

Chikao Lingming wasn’t there when Shíhòu woke from the sleep he’d fallen into. Neither was Liu’er. He didn’t question it, only yawned and tried to rub the lingering sleep from his eyes while struggling to find his way out from under the furs and hides that covered him.

“You are awake,” Yuanhou said, her voice quiet as she lifted the blanket off him enough that he could crawl out and stand up. Or at least he tried to stand, only for his body to stubbornly refuse to leave the comfort of the nest just yet. “Do you feel any pain? Any sensations that should not be there?” She asked.

“I don’t think so.” He admitted honestly, slowly stretching his tail, his legs and arms, flexing his fingers slowly before rolling his shoulders and twisting his body and spine, checking for any sort of pain or sensation that felt off or wrong.

He found none, and opened his mouth to say as much, but the words were lost to another yawn, and so instead he shook his head.

“That is good. It means the split was a success, and you will not have any setbacks in your recovery from it.” She explained, reaching over to set a steaming cup of medicinal tea down before him. “Mahou and his Origin are speaking privately outside, Liu’er took Lingming to explore and test out his new body.”

“I will not ask how they plan to go about that.” The ginger monkey said drinking the tea and she chuckled fondly. “Will he be alright?”

“Do not worry yourself over him, dear one. Liu’er has a cruel streak, as we all do, but she will not bully him until he is at least more familiar with the island.” She assured gently and then placed a bowl of peeled and sliced fruits in front of him. “Hungry?” She asked.

He opened his mouth to answer, only to have his stomach all but roar in answer for him. Yuanhou chuckled, but said nothing of it as he began to pick his way through the breakfast platter, hoping to try and coax his body into waking up more so he could get up.

A short while later, when Mahou came inside with Wu Zhiqi, they found the bowl empty save a few seeds and pits, and Shíhòu himself sleeping again while Yuanhou prepared vegetables for later.

“Are you sure you can’t convince your mate to turn a blind eye, just for a few seconds?” Mahou asked with a sideways glance at his Origin. “I’ll even promise not to let it get too messy.”

“We both know that isn’t true, and that none of you will stop if we let you start.” Wu Zhiqi said.

“They deserve worse than me.” Yuanhou huffed, but didn’t question further.

Mahou gently reached out and softly brushed stray fur out of Shíhòu’s face. “Guess we’ll just have to settle for waiting until you have no choice but to let us out, then revenge can be masked as collateral damage.”

“... I will forget I heard that by the time we get home.” Wi Zhiqi stated and pretended the laughter from Yuanhou and Mahou wasn’t at all sinister.

By the time Xiaotain and the cubs arrived, carrying the last of the fruit with him, the tears had stopped and Mihou didn’t fuss when the younger brown furred monkey wiggled his way into the hug, nuzzling under the darker monkey’s chin while the cubs set about picking the none existent dust and few dead hairs from their fur.

Tongbi looked up suddenly and smiled as warmth crept over them. Mihou looked towards the horizon again, his ears fluttering as he listened carefully for something Xiaotain couldn’t hope to hear. When Mihou smiled, Xiaotain knew he’d found what he was listening for.

Moments later, a familiar dark nimbus dropped into view, slower then it had been when it was leaving that morning, but no less thunderous as it curved in a steady arch and came down over the high tide of the shore, scattering a few shoreline birds before it dispelled and allowed its rider and passenger to simply walk the beach at a leisurely pace. 

Or it would have been leisurely, had the flow of time been equal between the departure and return.

A ginger blur of fur slammed into Mihou first, sending them both stumbling back into Xiaotain, who hooted happily and clung tightly as Tongbi caught all three of them, steadying them and also bracing them as a bigger blur of red fur gathered them all close and held them.

“We’re home.” Wu Zhiqi said, voice muffled by grey fur.

“Welcome home.” Tongbi purred.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Please remember to hydrate yourselves well before exiting the ride.

Xīngchén Qiēgē Fǔ - Star-Cutting Axe. Wu Zhiqi's weapon. Bà - Dad Mǔqīn - Mother