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Fantasy, Myth, Legend

Billy Wong is an avid fan of heroic fantasy, with a special love for hardcore warriors of the fairer sex. His fiction has appeared in Literal Translations, Blazing Adventures Magazine, Afterburn SF, Niteblade Fantasy and Horror Magazine, Wanderings, Sorcerous Signals, The Written Word, Tower of Light Fantasy Magazine, and Golden Visions Magazine.

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Unwelcome Admirations
(continued)

They had not spent long on the road before they saw Yan Shendook again, standing on the other side of a wide ravine. “Xue Lanfa,” he said with a taunting smile. “I must thank you for the extraordinary performance you gave today.”

“Oh? How crazy have you gone, to be so happy when I’ve ruined your plan?”

Shendook threw his head back and laughed. “Ruined? On the contrary. You’ve helped me a great deal by thinning out my competition for the chieftainship of Demon Ghost.”

She glared at him. “You wanted your people to get killed? A devious plan, but what makes you think you’ll escape with your life after showing your face to me?”

“Oh, I’ll do better than to merely escape. By finishing you off, I will secure my claim to my position.” He raised two handfuls of poisoned darts. “Now, swordsman!”

They were both surprised when, even after a wait of several seconds, nothing happened.

“Where are you?” Shendook snapped. “How can you just desert me like this?”

Though puzzled as to what was going on, Lanfa intended to take full advantage of her good fortune. “Not so cocky now, are we? Come on, rally your courage and throw those puny darts!”

He did, and they bounced like pebbles off the wall of her spun blade. Then she drew her sword back, and his eyes widened in disbelief. “What are you doing?” he asked as he began to backpedal. “You can’t possibly project your chi that far . . .”

She thrust, and the line of energy that launched defied his words. It plowed through him before he could run, and blood poured from his gaping mouth as he toppled to the ground.

“Amazing!” Fengshan beamed. “Even Master couldn’t do that. But where did his masked friend go?”

“I don’t know. He must have been around, for Shendook to sound so confident.”

“Maybe he was scared off by your prowess.”

Without answering, she replaced her sword and walked on. It would have been the best case if he was right, but the slight shuffling she heard in the brush nearby told her otherwise.


Lanfa traveled three hours aware of the presence trailing her before she could stand it no longer. She turned to throw a sword blast which felled a stand of small trees, revealing the masked swordsman concealed behind them. “It is you,” she said with a flustered scowl. “Why didn’t you act before, and why are you still following me?”

“Of course I didn’t act before. You think I want to help that old fool kill you?”

“I thought that was why he hired you.”

He nodded. “Yes—but not the reason I’m here. Besides, he paid me half in advance.”

“Then why are you here? What do you want with me?”

“I really admire you,” he said in a wistful tone. “It’s my dream to duel one like you.”

Fengshan butted in. “Didn’t you already fight my master? As I remember, you lost.”

“That wasn’t a real battle. I was just testing you, making sure you were as good as I’d heard. Because I didn’t want to risk wasting my life against less than the worthiest opponent.”

Lanfa had no idea what he was talking about. Hadn’t he already risked his life against her? And how might an opponent still be considered “unworthy” if they managed to kill him? Maybe he desired a specific kind of fight. “What exactly are you seeking?”

“A one-on-one duel to the death, with no cheap tricks and no running away. Only under those conditions do I believe we can get the true measure of master swordsmen such as ourselves.”

She shrugged. “If you want to fight me, you’re free to attack. I’m not much for tricks, and I doubt I’ll be running away.”

“No, not now. You’re wounded, and I don’t want anything from you but your best. I’ve searched too long for an opponent who might be my match, to squander my one opportunity with you like this.” His eyes bored into hers. “All I want now, is your promise to meet me under my preferred conditions when you are fully recovered.”

There seemed nothing unfair in the fight he sought, but Lanfa thought it rather wasteful for either of them to die just for the sake of comparing skills. “I’d be open to having a duel, but does it have to be to the death? I’m not very motivated to kill you, considering there’s no grudge between us.”

“You can spare me if you wish. But expect to die if you lose.”

That was hardly right. “And if I win, will that be the end of all this?”

“Yes—unless someday, I have improved enough to warrant a rematch.”

Perhaps she would be justified in killing him to remove this nuisance. Or, at least, disabling him enough to keep him from dueling anymore. He had probably caused his share of unnecessary deaths. “I think you’re insane, you know that? How many opponents have you found willing to agree to this?”

“Plenty, though I doubt they expected to lose. So, do you agree or not?”

While not greatly opposed to fighting him, Lanfa did not necessarily intend to abide strict rules barring the use of dirty tricks or running away. A practical girl like her would hardly be constrained by such products of manly pride, but do whatever it took to meet her needs. “Yes. Find me when my wounds are healed, and we’ll have this duel.”

“Good,” he said after a moment’s hesitation. Had he sensed something off in her voice? “I knew you’d come around.” He leapt smoothly away, disappearing into the trees.

“You’re going to kill him, aren’t you?” Fengshan asked enthusiastically. “I hope I’m there to see!”

She wished otherwise, and that he would be safe in a good home by then. Then again, seeing one more death probably wouldn’t much harm him.


“So what was your last name?” Lanfa asked Fengshan as they arrived at the drought-parched outskirts of Spring Valley. The feminine dress she had changed into felt cumbersome on her athletic frame, but she hoped it would make her less recognizable as herself.

“I don’t remember.”

“How can you remember your first name and that of your town, but not your surname?”

“I forgot,” he said without looking at her. “I guess I didn’t hear it used much. Do we have to keep going? I don’t want to leave you. I want to stay, and learn martial arts.”

Lanfa gave him a harsh look. “You mean after coming this far, you want us to turn back? Wouldn’t all the trouble I’ve encountered been for nothing, then?”

“You would’ve had to face those enemies sooner or later. Can’t we please stop? I’ll do anything you want, just take me as your student!”

“Are you sure you don’t remember your last name?”

“No.” He fell silent, leaving her to wonder if he was wasting her time on purpose.


It was after they reached town, and Lanfa took a break from investigating to use a tavern restroom, that the tall man approached Fengshan. “You’re the masked swordsman, aren’t you? Are you looking for my master?”

He smiled appreciatively. “You are perceptive, but the answer to your second question is no. I’m looking for you.”

Fengshan perked up with surprise. “Me? Why?”

“I’m afraid your master’s heart might not be with this duel.” He knelt and put a hand on Fengshan’s shoulder. “So I want you to help me.”

“How?”

“By making her want to kill me.”

He took a step back. “That’s really what you want? Alright, doesn’t seem too hard. But what do I get in return?”

“Well, what do you want?”

“I want to learn powerful martial arts!”

The man chuckled and held up a small vial. “There I can help you. Now, here’s what you need to do . . .”


At the noise of a commotion outside, Lanfa rushed out of the restroom. Pushing her way through a small crowd, she came into view of Fengshan lying on the ground with blood oozing from his mouth. When she checked, she found that he no longer breathed. “Who did this?” she demanded of the onlookers. “What kind of monster would just go and murder a little boy?”

“There was a masked man,” a waitress said. “He came through the front door, struck the boy with a palm, and ran right back out. It happened so fast, nobody could even try to stop him.”

“Masked man? Was he tall, with unruly hair?”

“Yes, that was him. Is there some vendetta between you two?”

Now there was. Lanfa knew the slaying of Fengshan to only be a way to goad her into hating him, yet it could do nothing but work. Heartless devil! All at once it had become her mission to make sure he never harmed another innocent again, even if that was what he actually wanted.

She left town in a hurry, and never knew when Fengshan’s body was stolen from the graveyard.


They set the duel for a month later, Lanfa barely controlling her rage to keep from prematurely attacking when she saw him. Knowing his obsession, she trusted him not to run during his scheduled execution. The appointed date came, and they met at sunset in the yard of an abandoned mountain temple. Through the cold winds she heard someone’s excitedly rapid breathing, but judged the spectator unlikely to pose a threat. “At last,” the now unmasked swordsman said with a flourish of his sword, “our contest begins.” He was handsome and noble of face, but her awareness of his cruelty negated what charms he might have had. “Do you have any last requests in case you lose?”

“If I die? I want you . . . to kill yourself!” She charged, her sword red as her anger in the fading sun.

They clashed, her initial flurry of furious blows forcing him back. He leaned back low, slashing at her belly as she glided over him. Lanfa twisted aside, the blade grazing her robe, and thrust down at his neck. He rolled out of the way of repeated stabs, then spun up like a whirlwind. She blocked his twirling sword and send him flying away with a kick to the midsection. Landing precariously on the short wall around the edge of the yard, he caught his balance and smiled.

“Excellent, Lady Xue! I would be honored to die against you.” With that he pounced from the wall, swooping at her like a steel-clawed hawk.

Lanfa retreated before his humming sword, the metal vibrating with his channeled power. Its tip scratched her shoulder twice, before she backflipped into a kick which launched him straight up. She jumped after him, beating at his wavering guard. He smashed her down with a palm to the chest, then dove sword-first seeking her heart. The flat of her blade bent under his point and rebounded to bounce him back. She kipped up into a head butt, knocking him away as he landed, and followed up with a sword blast. He recovered and threw one of his own, and the energies cancelled each other out.

The duel continued, the two flying around like dancing gods. They fought through the night, sun giving way to moon and back again, but in the morning the swordsman’s stamina began to fail. Lanfa drove him back across the yard, cutting him repeatedly past his slowing defense. He stabbed at her gut, but she twisted aside and elbowed him against the wall.

“No!” she heard a familiar voice yell as she raised her sword, and her eyes found the sight of Fengshan running out from behind a temple pillar. “Don’t kill him!” He was alive?! What was going on, and why was he with him?

In her moment of distraction, she failed to notice her opponent’s next thrust. His sword slid between her ribs, and her breath caught in her throat. “Oh no,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean-”

Lanfa brought her arm down, snapping the sword near the hilt, and landed a jumping kick to his head which knocked him over the wall. Then she turned to Fengshan and fell, clutching the blade through her ribs. “Why?” she gasped wetly. “Why did you fool me?”

“I’m sorry!” he said, his face aghast and voice shaking. “I d-didn’t mean to harm you. I just wanted him to teach me martial arts.” And he sprinted away in tears.

“Wait!” she cried, reaching towards him with a trembling hand. “Come back . . .” Then her strength gave out, and her arm fell.


Three months had passed since the news of Xue Lanfa’s death spread through the martial world. Fengshan looked up the hill towards the Moonlight Sword school and swallowed. He had made a terrible mistake, and would atone for it even if it cost him his life. He was about to start up the steps when a hand around his arm stopped him. “Master?!” he breathed, perplexed as he regarded the figure behind him. “I thought you were dead.”

“Me, go down that easily?” Lanfa shook her head. “See, I told you not to run.”

“But the whole world thinks you died. What about the swordsman? He’s alive, and claims that he killed you.”

“Yes, well, he helped me fake my death.” She grinned. “Turns out he didn’t want to kill me or anyone at all, but just had a death wish due to a past failure. I talked him out of it.”

Fengshan threw himself into her arms. “I’m glad you’re fine. But why’d you take so long to find me again?”

“You can be pretty elusive, and I did get run through the chest. Now, let’s get out of here before my former disciples decide to flog you for getting me killed.” Taking his arm, she dragged him away from her old school.

“Why did you fake your death? You had your share of influence before.”

Though she knew many would deem her irresponsible, she had always been a creature bound only by her own will. “I wasn’t free to choose my own path, with the obligations I had as Xue Lanfa. Now, as Pearl Light, I am.”

“That’s your new name? It doesn’t sound very intimidating.” Fengshan’s eyes brightened with hope. “So now that you don’t have any other students, will you teach me?”

“You still want to learn from me?” He nodded vigorously. The willful stubbornness he showed did remind her of herself. Plus, they had gone too far from Spring Valley and she did not want to travel the hundreds of miles back. “All right,” she said with a smile, “I’ll give you a chance. But only as long as you treat my advice about life, with the same respect you do for my martial prowess.”

 

 

 

Unwelcome Admirations by Billy Wong 1 2
originally published February 9, 2009

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