The Chronicles of Qi Read online

  In Taoist cosmology there are five sacred mountains, one representing each of the cardinal directions and one for the center, which the A-Nation cities are constructed to imitate. Kunlun is the mountain of the center, the empty void that is the spinning axis of the Taoist universe.

  Deep below this giant mountain range, caves and labyrinths burrow to the gates of Inner Earth, building an interdimensional bridge to the secrets of mankind’s history. That’s why in ancient China, high mountains became a symbol of the world beyond the mystic veil of the unknown. Sacred temples and shrines were built on the mountain tops while stories about immortal beings rose to fame, and it was said that Shambhala was able to slip back and forth between the world of matter and the world of dreams.

  The majestic phoenix flies over the ‘Lake of Jewels’, through a thick layer of mists until it arrives at the shimmering gates of Shambhala, sheathed entirely in rubies, pearls, and precious stones. The etheric mythical kingdom itself is surrounded by a long wall of pure gold that stretches out in both directions for over a thousand miles. Within, a vast garden in which the ‘Peach Tree of Immortality’ grows, lies ahead.

  The palace compound has tiered cyan colored walls, twelve layers thick and twelve stories high. Nine watchtowers of turquoise protect it. Inside the palace ground are various buildings: a nine-storied terrace, known as the ‘Turquoise Platform’ where ceremonies are held, the metal basilica where formal court audiences take place, and the jade building, also known as the ‘Blue Gem Palace’.

  The graceful bird lands in front of the palace, its feathers stretching and growing back to transform into Counselor Tsung.

  He enters the Crystal Hall where the Chinese long-sleeved Yu Nv (玉女), the Jade Maidens, dance and play on their traditional Chinese Bianzhong (chimes), Dizi, Hulusi (flutes), Sheng (mouth organs) and Qing (jade sounding stones).

  Xi Wang Mu (Chinese: Queen Mother of the West), the legendary immortal Chinese goddess, dances exquisitely in her rainbow dress and feathered robe with its winged sleeves in between her maidens. She is watched on by her faithful ladies in waiting, whirling and twirling around with her white jade staff.

  Tsung is immediately taken aback by the beauty of Xi Wang Mu, her every motion sending vibrations to his body. She acts like she doesn’t see the counselor, teasing him with the chink of her bangles, each jingle sounding like a hundred Bianzhongs. She looks into Tsung’s eyes and he feels literal sparks all over his body, his ‘stones’ tingling excitedly as a mysterious haze suddenly sends him into an induced trance.

  The becharmed counselor sees himself in an olive garden, draped in the robes of an emperor, being attended to by a myriad of servants. The garden has two plush beds and cane chairs all around. Tsung is sprawling on one of the beds while on the other one a woman is laying down, her face turned away, exposing the naked porcelain skin of her back. The curves of her body could be studied in a geometry class. She turns and faces Tsung, a mysterious smile playing on her face. It is Xi Wang Mu, the version of her 20-year-old self.

  Unable to hide his longing, Tsung blushes like a blossoming cherry tree in springtime. The goddess gets up and runs away from the clearing in the garden, her feet barely touching the ground as she slowly drifts in through the trees. Tsung gets up and follows her almost immediately, but he struggles to keep up as she already has a head-start.

  Xi Wang Mu’s laughter echoes through the woods as he tries to catch up with her. Tsung then chances upon another clearing in the garden and spots the red robe of the goddess, draped over the grass. He stares ahead and is face to face with a lake. Tsung could have sworn the lake wasn’t there a few minutes ago. The water is exuding heat, its high temperature is apparent from the amount of steam it is producing.

  Xi Wang Mu is being serenaded by her maidens. The white gowns of them look so out of place in the colorful stream of rainbows. The counselor walks into the water, eager to hold the goddess in his arms like he once did. Immediately their skins touch, and he appears on a mountain top, feeding the goddess exotic fruits while lava bubbles up, ready to erupt. The fierce redness of the magma blends easily with the overflowing gown of the goddess. She stands up gloriously, lets down her robe to reveal her porcelain flesh and gestures for him to come to her. Tsung does so and pins Xi Wang Mu to the hard ground. He doesn’t want her to escape again and stares at her face in adoration, bringing his face down in an effort to lock lips with her, immediately waking him from the trance.

  As the dance comes to an end and the maidens clear the way for Counselor Tsung to enter the inner circle, the goddess elegantly returns to her golden throne, richly decorated with a variety of gems, and feeds pomegranate seeds to the giant azure birds lingering around.

  She initiates a telepathic conversation with her guest.

  “Welcome back, honorable Tsung Li Wang,” Xi Wang Mu says, smiling in the knowledge of what she had just put him through, “I was expecting you”.

  “Thank you, Queen Mother of the West, for granting me audience,” Tsung responds, still smitten by her beauty, and straightens with a slight blush on his peachy cheeks.

  “I have come to tell you that I am in deep concern about the visions you’ve shown me.”

  “I know my son, I know,” Xi Wang Mu says as she pets and kisses one of the birds.

  “What is your advice, Queen Mother?” Tsung asks.

  Xi Wang Mu’s hand reaches for a pomegranate on the richly ornamented fruit bowl next to her, throwing it into the air. She uses her jade staff to crack the fruit open, and the seeds explode into all directions, but rather than clatter to the ground they simply float. The goddess does this without moving from her seat.

  Her long silver-gilt fingernail guards guide the floating seeds telekinetically into a variety of positions.

  “Since the birth of this universe, I have tried my best to protect what was once seeded,” she says and throws up some other berries, constructing the Milky Way’s solar system with these fruits. “I control the cosmic forces of time and space and the constellation of every star.”

  The goddess stops controlling the berries and seeds, causing them to drop on the floor, “With the power of creation and destruction, I ordain life and death, disease and healing; and determine the life spans of all living things,” she continues while caressing an adorable baby dragon, barely the size of her fingers, that has just landed in her perfectly shaped palms.

  Xi Wang Mu leaves the throne to approach the counselor with this mythical creature. She floats across the hall like an angelic being of supernatural power and puts the sacred reptile into Tsung’s palms, ready to reveal an ancient prophecy to him.

  “Be aware of the Dragon King and his army of 12,” she begins. “He, who brings life and death.”

  The goddess motherly kisses the little baby dragon and scratches his back, making him breath fire, and continues “Be aware of the Dragon King and his weapon of light. He, who fights the dark”.

  Xi Wang Mu then puts her hands on Tsung’s head, her long fingernails adjusting to the shape of it, and looks deep into his expectant, Bambi-like eyes, finishing the prophecy with “Be aware of the Dragon King and his iron fist. He, who walks time and space”.

  Her face blurs in front of Tsung’s eyes. A moment passes before he blacks out and is gone.

  ∞∞∞

  The retired Russian bio-engineer Professor Azarov, diligent and fair, father of Counselor Azarov, calls Counselor Tsung back into reality.

  “What did you want to ask?” Azarov sounds from afar. “Li? Li!”

  Tsung snaps out of his daydream, as if sliding back into his body. After a moment of recollecting himself and realizing that his mind went blank again, missing time, he continues with their little Chinese tea ceremony under a beautiful windswept Draco Tree sticking proudly out from the ground, rich with branches springing outward like a natural umbrella.

  “Sorry, I wanted to ask whether you’ve told him yet?” the counselor finally responds and takes out the traditional Chinese
tea set of his ancestors.

  “I don’t know where to start,” Professor Azarov says while helping Tsung to get the teapot, tea strainer, electric kettle, tea pitcher, brewing tray, deep bowl, tea towel, tea leaves, tea pick, tea leaf holder, tongs (挾), narrow snifter cups, and teacups in order. “He hasn’t spoken to me since… you know.”

  “He’ll come around,” Tsung assures his friend and performs the ‘black dragon enters the palace’ act by taking the tea leaf holder to scoop loose tea leaves from the canister and pouring them into the pot. “Once you tell him everything, Dimitri will understand. His fate has been written long time ago.”

  Tsung places the teapot into the bowl, raises the kettle at shoulder length above it, and pours the heated water into the teapot until it overflows, “I believe in him, just as I’ve always believed in you”.

  The two friends exchange a gentle smile and Tsung continues with scooping away any excess bubbles and tea leaves, placing the lid on the teapot before pouring hot water onto it, ensuring the temperature inside and outside the pot is the same.

  “I’ve really missed our little tea ceremonies,” Azarov continues while watching Tsung pour the brewed tea into the pitcher and filling the tea snifters with tea. “We’ve been through a lot the past years but somehow we always find our way back to this tree,” he sighs. “If only my Anna could be here with us. It sometimes really hurts looking into Dimitri’s eyes and seeing her.”

  “She’s fulfilled her journey and served well. We all knew that day would come.” Tsung says in a very soft tone while placing the teacups upside down on top of the narrower teacups. This solemn act is said to bring prosperity and happiness to a guest. “Soon the leaves will change again, and we must follow her path to be reunited at the kingdom of gods. From there, we will watch over the chosen ones and prepare for the stars,” Tsung continues as he uses his two hands and grabs both cups to quickly flip them, so the snifter is now inverted into the drinking cup. He slowly removes the snifter to release the tea into the teacups.

  “And Dimitri will step into your footsteps”, Azarov says with a proud yet sad voice, a glaze of regret in his eyes.

  Tsung on the other hand pours some more water just above the teapot, so as to not remove the flavor from the leaves too quickly. He then places the lid on the teapot.

  “We all must play our part in this timeline. The future of the universe and our civilizations depends on it. There is no time for sentiment. No time for regret. We swore an oath long before we entered this dimension. Long before these bodies were born. Our duty is to the collective of the ‘All’. We shall never forget this, and we shall always honor the cause,” Tsung pours the tea into the pitcher, from there into the tea snifters and finally from the snifters into the teacups.

  The pair cradle their cups with both hands to enjoy the tea’s aroma before taking a small sip.

  “And what did the Queen Mother say?” Azarov finally asks.

  “Be aware of the Dragon King,” Tsung starts, “he, who walks time and space."

  “So, it’s true,” Professor Azarov concludes and takes a large sip of his tea.

  “Yes,” Tsung says and hands the Professor a Chinese egg tart from the plate next to the tea set.

  “We should inform the Council then,” Azarov suggests and bites into his delicious egg tart.

  “Don’t worry, Yuri,” Tsung ensures his friend, “everything follows the Tao. Everything will soon be revealed.”

  The two take a third sip to enjoy the aftertaste, empty the cups, and continue their break in the Arcadian Garden.

  The Dragon King

  * THE YEAR 1898 *

  The surface of Earth dissolves into a charcoal image being drawn by a 10-year old schoolgirl, Agnieszka Pilchowa (Agni), big blue eyes with a kind face and dark brown pigtails braided on the sides of her head. She’s soon about to become Poland’s most famous and feared clairvoyant, bioenergotherapeutist and herbalist of all times.

  The crowd at the market keeps increasing, the closely-knit stalls restrict movement severely, but nobody wants to be the one that complains. The traders pay no heed to the travails of the commuters as they advertise their wares, “Buy meat here, low quality tobacco, get a pistol with five bullets”. People bump into each other as they move but none of these seem to faze Agni as she still doesn’t look up from the paper. She has been scribbling all day since they arrived at the market.

  “With every birth,” young Agni thinks, “with every universe, there comes Qi, the energy we are made of.”

  She is pulled out of her vision by two young, jealous girls who take Agni’s drawing away and rip it apart; circling singing in Polish Silesian dialect around her. Both girls are her sisters.

  The eldest of the girls is chubby and hairy, nobody in Krakow pays her any form of attention and it angers her that Angi is getting all the love and attention. The other girl is simply a plain bowlegged bully that just likes seeing other people suffer. They had planned on humiliating Agni many times before, but it never worked out. This time, however, it seems they are not willing to take any chances as they have formulated the confrontation the night before.

  Her sisters push Agni down into a puddle and run laughing away through the crowded market as an elderly female hand reaches out to her, revealed as Agni’s 60-year-old blind grandma Martha, wise and clairvoyant; a philosophy book on two legs. Having the ears of a blind bat, she crosses over to her granddaughter and scoops the poor little thing up, trying to clean the dirt from her new clothes that are now soaked in water and mud.

  “These spoiled brats,” Martha says furious, “always making trouble”.

  “I’m sorry,” young Agni says with tears of embarrassment and humiliation in her eyes.

  Martha gives Agni a basket filled with vegetables, covered by a bouquet of lilacs, and holds her hand while the other one is wrapped around a cane for the blind. Together they walk towards a close-by bench and sit down.

  “You have nothing to be sorry about, my sunshine,” Martha says. “You are the only one who will bring our family great fortune one day. The whole world will circle around you, my little sun.”

  Agni embraces her grandma with the tears of a young girl then says in her surprisingly grownup and appreciative voice, “Thank you, Babciu”.

  Martha lays her arm around young Agni and kisses the forehead, “The Lord gave you your gift for a reason. You must harvest it and use your power wisely to help the people around you.”

  “I will,” Agni assures as her smile widens across the face.

  Martha senses Agni steering at the precious emerald-green gem around her neck, which looks as though it could give off its own faint light and is trapped within an irregular ring of gold.

  “You like that stone, don’t you?” Martha asks, already knowing her granddaughter’s answer.

  Agni touches the pendant and her big blue eyes light up within a second as if she’s never seen anything more precious before, “Yes”.

  “One day in the future, the stone will be yours to wear. But you must promise to protect it with your life,” Martha explains, and Agni responds with a dignified nod.

  “The stone has traveled time since the beginning of this universe. And you belong to the ‘Chosen’ who must keep its existence and power a secret.”

  Martha pauses for a moment to caress her granddaughter’s face, “Do you understand, my sunshine?”.

  “Yes, Babciu,” young Agni says, taking her grandma’s hand and holding it tight.

  “Never forget,” Martha brings her clouded blind eyes down to peer into Agni’s, “you are a ‘Keeper’”.

  ∞∞∞

  * THE YEAR 1904 *

  six years later…

  The Pilchowas make the long ride to the attorney’s office with their horse carriage which is pulled by four chestnut colts. The carriage is custom made, with enough space for Agni, her parents and her sisters. The road to the attorney’s office is quite dusty, bumpy and it is rife with bandits. Agni’s par
ents cannot afford a cushion on the seat, the money they once had was long gone and everybody is going to be sore when they get down. The horses are obviously weakened as they have travelled miles with barely enough water or food. Inside the carriage, everybody is huddled in the corner, intentionally avoiding Agni.

  Her gift or curse depending on who is looking at it, begins to scare them. She even prophesied the death of her grandmother. After that, she began to see visions. The fire that caught the Makrowski farmhouse was predicted by her two weeks before it happened. When she told her parents what she had seen, they chastised Agni and took her to be exorcised by the priest. The priest however found her clean from evil spirits and of good nature. This did not deter Agni’s parents and they didn’t hide their disgust in her gifts. They were scared she could make evil happen, when in reality she was just a messenger who didn’t even understand what was happening to her.

  One night during the recent trip to Krakow, Agni fell under a trance, her body temperature spiked, her eyelids fluttered continuously, and she was muttering gibberish, her parents looked at her and hissed. They sprayed holy water on her, took her down from the carriage and left her on the grass while she shook violently. The family always criticized everything Agni did, nothing she ever did was good in their sight.

  The journey finally ends after two days, Agni’s parents coming down first, and her sisters following them shortly.

  Agni is the last to appear and after everybody gets into the building, she can finally show her face. Her parents look back and see her flowery dress, “You had to wear these bright colors today of all days, what if somebody recognizes you?”

  Agni is quiet, she has learned to live with the constant jabs from strangers and her own family. They all eventually walk into the building and are ushered in by her grandmother’s lawyer.