#so I don't ruuust

[yi-dashi-a]

The 856th Annual Day of Blades: Part 2

//More pre war drama? I don’t feel inspired for much else, so you get this instead. I better give a blurb for anyone coming into it without headcanon context from my tag. I feel like my weakness as a writer is assuming people have context.

With the Invasion looming over Ionia’s head, having been active for only half a year, all those under Wuju influence had their own reasons to be on edge. Star Practitioner and Teacher Yi Hui, known now as Master Yi, was surely not excluded. Declaring the Wuju celebration Day of Blades to be the last he’d attend, he hoped his young disciples would get one last lesson before the horrors of war consumed both he and them

Fittingly, Day of Blades is a swordsmanship contest where no holds are barred. All one needs to do is draw a single drop of blood from their opponent, or make them step outside of a fighter’s circle whether by force or debate. Even in spite of the Invasion, warriors from all walks arrived to test their blades before they too commit themselves to the defense of the country. So join me over the no doubt months it will take me to write this as I try and condense a 32 person tournament into a readable format.

“Yi Dashi…”

Almost instinctively, Yi put on his festival face when someone called for him. People had been clamoring for his attention ever since he left the proceedings, when all he wanted was some food, the fresh air of his school, and perhaps a secret drink to take the head off his nerves. But the man who approached couldn’t be so easily turned away. He commanded attention, if only because of his gait.

“Oh, do you need something, Master? The festival is back towards the village last time I checked.”

Despite being close to decrepit with his declining health, Master Yi Chao still clung to the agility of his form. His hair was unkempt yet simply bunned, and the grasp about his cane was shaky, but still he ambled up to his son with the remaining tatters of his pride shining through. There was pain behind his expression certainly, but he wore it about as well as he did his stern eyes and subtle wrinkles. Eventually he offered a nod of acknowledgement, and joined Yi in leaning against his hiding spot that was the outer temple walls.

“I’m here to check on you. Your mother’s worried, and last I saw you were storming off to who knew where.”

“I’m fine.” He scoffed, “I’m just waiting for your Master to show up, so that we can have the same conversation as every year.” He put on a voice he hoped his Master would find amusing, “Did you put my name in the draw, Dahui?” His impression mustn’t have been good enough though, “Yes! Yes I… did…” A sigh escaped him, “Do you want to be around when he gets here?”

“I’ll… manage.” The father frowned, “I’m going to have to spend the day with him, anyway.”

“It’s your choice.” Yi replied idly, his thoughts focused more on trying to think of idle conversation, “So… how is your back?” Perhaps not the best place to start, he thought. At least not with the way the man winced,

“… I haven’t smoked since the night before now.” He admitted, bracing himself somewhat against the grand school he resided in, “So I’m… as well as I am expected to be.” Though as soon as he said that outwardly, his telepathy bubbled into Yi’s mind, ‘I’m in pain, student… but I’d much rather be lucid for this day than lost to time and free of ills.’

“I see…” Not usually one for sour expressions, the frown on his face almost felt foreign when it hit him, “Well, there’s no shame in forfeiting if you need to. I’ll support you if you do.”

“Thank you…” Chao offered, almost distantly, “… Good luck today, with all of your disciples,” He looked almost ready to ponder something else, but instead watched his words drift away as his gaze traveled past Yi and up the path that wound behind them. With the backdrop of the mountain from which the Highlands gained their name, five men distantly strode towards the Wuju village, “… and good luck with them.”

The Wuju teacher did a double take over his shoulder before digesting the scene properly. As soon as he did, however, he cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted,

“Hey, Swordsmen. You are late! By the time you get here the bracket for the fights will already be decided.” But as was expected they took their calculated time, walking almost in lockstep as they made their way along, “By the Stars, I don’t want to have to deal with Grandpapa. Not on top of everything else…”

“Just entertain him and be done with it.” Chao shrugged, “Your mother told me to babysit, so I have to suffer with you.”

“I don’t need a babysitter, Master.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that sometimes.”

But closer and closer the men drew, ordered by height because of course the old Wuju Master would deem it so. The four souls, two pairs, who flanked the shortest man did so with their faces obscured by conical bamboo hats, leaving everyone to focus only on the stern faced powerhouse that was Yi Heng. He always kept his hair loosely tied, with no adornments to his beard either. His robes were unmistakably Wuju however, as was the way his silvery dao hung over his shoulder. He also wasn’t a man for hellos, instead stopping at distance to offer his own form of ‘good to see you.’

“Are our names in the draw?”

“Yes, Grandpapa.” Yi said on a hefty sigh, “Like every year, my mother, you hear that, mother has already placed all your names in the draw before you arrived.” Heng’s brow always creased at that. Yi would have laughed if he thought he could defend himself after, “Though we wouldn’t have to have this discussion if you actually arrived on time, and before the bracket draw was closed, now would we?”

“Wuchao.” Heng’s focus immediately shifted, and Yi slapped a palm to his face and near slid down the wall. The man was as unshifting as the temple that loomed over them, “… Do you intend to fight today?”

“Yes Master.” As if it were a force of habit, Chao dipped his back as much as his damaged spine would allow, “I hope you don’t cause any trouble.”

“I have no intentions of doing anything that isn’t right.”

“Sure…” Yi scoffed, but once more he was ignored. Heng turned his eyes towards all his students in sequence, each bowing their head when they felt the sting of his gaze,

“Kahd, ask about the witchwoman and the draw.”

“Yes Master.”

“Shei?”

“Yes Master?”

“Scope out the competing schools and tell me what you find. Information about the war is also key. Zhy? Izu? Keep following me.”

“Yes Master…” It always quirked Yi’s brow at how eerily in step they could speak. But at the end of all his commands, the grandfather’s attention was back on his son’s,

“I’m going to pay a visit to my other grandchildren… if I am so allowed.”

“If they wish to see you then they will entertain you, Master.” Once Yi might have heard spite there, but Chao’s words were hollow, “I have no way of stopping you.”

“Good…” And just like that the men dispersed, splitting off to perform their assigned tasks. The one known as Kahd, however, seemed to hover about the pair instead of taking leave, stealing even a dangerous looking glace from over the shoulder of his Master.

“Where might I find the witchwoman?” He mumbled in time.

“That’s my mother you’re talking about, you know.” Yi growled back, “And she’s where she always is when she sorts the draw. You get told the same things every year. Are you going senile?”

“Where...” The pause was subtle, but it was long enough to draw attention to the Swordsman and his particular actions. He turned up his conical hat slightly, staring directly eye to eye with Yi’s father. As he continued to speak, he tapped a single finger to his temple, “… is the witchwoman?”

In it all Yi saw antagonistic goading, and he would have begun off on a tirade if his Master hadn’t taken it in a different measure.

“She is in the temple. In the main hall.” He said outwardly, but his expression spoke of something else. The men took a pause seemingly just to stare, but Yi hadn’t been practicing Wuju for nothing. His perception was keen. There was telepathy going on that he wasn’t privy to. All the same, Kahd and his raspy mumbling left swiftly, bowing to the pair before following the wall’s perimeter. But Chao’s stare was still affixed on the air, his forehead creasing all the more over time.

“Master..?” Yi offered outwardly, but to no effect. The man began to walk, but it wasn’t the stride of a confident man. He was intently focused as if analyzing something in fine parchment print, his posture hunching as his reading efforts grew more frenzied, “Master!”

“Let us go back to the festival, Pupil.” He grunted externally, before his words boomed with a lording presence in Yi’s mind, ‘Don’t be stupid. Don’t shout, or I won’t let you be privy to this later.’ With a tug to his long sleeve, Yi was all but dragged along as he still tried to digest any implications of the his Master’s words,

“What is going on?” His voice warned, but his reply was given from an unusual place.

‘Chao… I trust him.’  The distant, warbled voice of his mother sounded out. ‘Of all of them, I trust Kahd. If it was Shei then I’d know him to lie, but Kahd is about as reasonable as any of them can get.’

‘Mama?’ He thought, only to feel the hand about his robes tense.

‘Huan, shush—'

‘ I see the draw in front of me Chao, and I can’t change it without being observed. You have to forfeit.’ As they continued on their way, the festival began to reappear around them. How Yi wished he could get lost in the smells and sights of it all now, ‘You have to! I can’t stand the thought, Chao. Please! You—'

‘--We have appearances we must keep up, Huan. You as well, Pupil.’ He thought his words as if it were nothing but a calm, internal exchange, and he made sure to offer a, “Good day. Thank you for attending.” to a random passer-by for good measure, ‘Just be calm, and if we all need to convene we shall. For now… I’m not panicking. We just wait for the draw and we go from there. Especially you, Hui. Listen, just put on a good face, and when we get the time I’ll tell you what I’ve been told.’

“Master…” His spoken word was barely a whisper. A tense, wary vocalization. His own name seemed to just deflate his whole persona. It was as if the single word signified an end to two-way conversation.

“Yes, Student?” Chao replied, his face still betraying not a single one of his thoughts. Yi took his time, though, to think of something appropriate to speak ‘in character’ that also reflected what he thought within,

“… You’re foolish old man.” He turned on his festival goer’s grin, “Do you know that?”

“Perhaps I am, perhaps I’m not.” The man shrugged, “If you are to prove me one or the other, you must debate me on it later, when we have the time.”

“I’ll make time.” He laughed humorlessly, “Though for now, we have to wait on this draw. I can’t begin to digest more… debate than what has already happened today. It’s… exciting!”

Stressful.

It was stressful, and anyone still listening in on his thoughts knew it.