Chapter #21Monkey Magic by: imaj   “Like I was,” you parrot, at a loss for words. “Wait, you said Gāo Chi was a student of Feng Meng, not Sun Wukong.”
“He is. Sage Táng agreed to explain the nature of Sun Wukong if you helped us rescue Gāo Chi,” explains Hu. He stares out the window, as if deciding on something. “It will help you understand. First, Will, tell me what you know of Sun Wukong.”
You scratch your head. “Kali Valentine told me a little, years ago. She said that she was unsure what his ousiarchs were. Sulva and something else.”
Hu turns round and faces you. “I’ll come back to that, right now I want to know if you know who Sun Wukong was.” You shake your head and admit that you do not. “His exploits are described in the novel Journey To The West.” He stops for a second and grins. “And in a number of television shows if you are too impatient to wade through the hundred chapters that make it up.”
“I’ll wait for the movie,” you mutter to yourself.
“He went by many names,” continues Hu. “Sun Wukong means ‘awakened to emptiness’. You’ll see why this is important shortly. He declared himself to be the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, but he is most commonly known as the Monkey King. Sun Wukong was both a hero and a villain: He rebelled against the Heavenly Court, but he later redeemed himself. The most important point though, is that he was very powerful, exceptionally so. He had a number of gifts and abilities, what the Stellae refer to as prodigies.”
“What do you call them,” you interrupt.
“Gifts,” shrugs Hu. “Powers. Mostly we refer to them by their individual names. For example, Sun Wukong knew the Seventy Two Transformations.”
“So he was a shapeshifter like me,” you ask. “A Sulva then?”
Not entirely like you,” counters Hu. “To my knowledge you have never become an animal or an object. He knew many other powers too, such as the Hundred Thousand Li Leap, which let him cover vast distances in a single somersault.”
“Travel prodigies are usually Viritrilbian, right?”
“It’s true, Sun Wukong was clever with his tongue, just as a Stellae Viritrilbia would be, but he was also a fierce warrior, possessed of great strength. It is said that his staff weighed thirteen thousand jin, and that he hefted it with great ease.”
“But that would make him a Malacandra,” you say. You think of Rick and his knives, Miko and her katana and Frank and his bow. Malacandrans always seem to have an affinity for a particular weapon and you guess for Sun Wukong it must have been his staff. “But great strength is more usually a Kenandandran prodigies,” you murmur. Fyodor had that, you remember.
“Exactly,” smiles Hu. “And that is not all. He was able to command water…”
“Eldibria,” you say under your breath.
“and the winds. He was able to craft things from the hairs on his body – weapons, animals, even clones of himself.”
“Kenandandra again,” you say uncertainly. It sounds like artefact creation, which is a noted Kenandandran prodigy.
“And remember that he rebelled against the Jade Emperor, which hints at what you call Catilindria.”
“I don’t understand,” you reply. “He had all of those ousiarchs? That’s impossible.”
“Is it,” comes Táng’s arch voice from behind you. You turn round to the elderly Sage walk in the room with Xifeng following behind. He walks to the window, looking out at the skyline as he continues to talk. “Tell me Mr Prescott, in your experience have you ever know any Stellae with such multiple abilities?”
“Of course not…” you begin before tailing off. “It’s me isn’t it? It was me, before I chose my second ousiarch.” You remember back to your year long apprenticeship, where you were moved round between different senior members of the Stellae to help you decide which ousiarch you were going to chose as your second.
Táng spins round to face you, grinning again.
“Wait are you saying that’s what Sun Wukong was? He only had one ousiarch?”
“I am saying that Sun Wukong was Sun Wukong,” corrects Hu. “Though your question is how the Stellae might see it. It fits though, doesn’t it, remember I said that his name meant ‘awakened to emptiness’? How did you react to finding out that you were missing something? For us though, Sun Wukong set out an archetype of what a Sage might become. The path that they might choose to follow.”
This is all getting a bit much for you. It shouldn’t be surprising that you sit there in silence for a few minutes before you pick up on what Hu just said. “You said choose.” Your own unique case aside, everything the Stellae has ever told you has stated that your ousiarchs are set in stone.
“Why not chose Mr Prescott,” interjects Táng. “You have already chosen. You could chose again, become a student of Sun Wukong once more. Or perhaps a different Sage.” He holds up a hand to forestall any further questions from you. “Yes it is quite achievable. We already intend to perform the ritual on Gāo Chi.”
You aren’t listening anymore though. Not really. Your memories have drifted back to eight years ago, to a cold winter’s day in Olympia and Charles Brennan’s garage.
“Oh yer had two,” Nash Carnes had said, his accent had been so difficult to follow back then. “Yah passed through the Libra. It left the Sulva untouched and it clean lopped off the other. As sweet an amputation as I’ve ever seen. It’s like your walking round with only one arm and leg. Looks to me like you showin’ all those other ousiarchs is your essentia tryin’ to comp’nsate for the fact your missin’ half yerself.”
“That’s kind of useful though isn’t it,” you’d told him. “Being able to use lots of different powers?”
“Not good fer balance Will,” had been Nash’s response. “It’s like yer walking round with a crutch because you got one leg missin’. Ting is yer sayin’ the crutch is better than having a leg because you can paint it diff’rent colours. Yah would be better off with a second ousiarch.”
“Well Mr Prescott,” says Táng, bringing your attention back to the present. “Shall we include you in the ritual too?” You can only brink in surprise. “Oh isn’t it obvious Mr Prescott, the reason why we called you out here? None of us have the experience to train Gāo Chi. That’s why I’m inviting you to join the Great Sages of the Heavenly Court.”
*****
“I said no of course,” you say, spooning more sugar into your coffee. You stare at the swirling liquid as you stir the coffee before looking up at your companion.
Rosalie sits on the opposite side of the booth. You spot the little lines at the corners of her eyes. It must be tiring for her, juggling her time between raising her daughter – daughters now you remember – and running the Stellae. She wears her age well though. No longer does Rosalie strike you as being like a frightened gazelle, poised to fleet. She seems assured now, confident in her place. Her soulful brown eyes bore straight into you.
“Did you,” she says, taking a sip from her own mug.
“I’m here, aren’t I,” you protest.
She puts her mug down on the table and reaches out to you with both hands. She clasps your hands. There is a crack in her poise and suddenly she looks anguished and vulnerable again. “Oh Will,” she says, for you have worn your own face – albeit the flipped version – for today’s meeting. “I don’t know what to think. This is the first time I’ve seen you, actually seen you in I don’t know how long.”
“Three years,” you say quietly, staring fixedly at your coffee. “The wedding.”
“And the only times we do talk on the phone, it’s all business,” continues Rosalie. “I was half expecting you to give me a letter of resignation here and now when you told me what Táng asked you. You’re like a brother to me Will…”
“Or sometimes sister,” you say, smiling a little. You’d forgotten what it was like, spending time with her, the way she fills the room, but somehow manages to make you feel like you are the most important thing in it.
Rosalie giggles a little. “Or sometimes sister,” she agrees. “You shouldn’t be such a stranger. Why don’t you come back to the house and see Joe and the girls?”
You shift awkwardly in your seat. No, you don’t want to see Joe again, not right now. You feel like it shouldn’t matter anymore, not now that you and Aizhan see each other on an irregular basis. It does though, somehow it does. Stars, do you still have feelings for him?
“I really want to,” you lie. “But I’ve got a flight to catch. I need to get home to Bea.” You make to get up and leave
“Oh no Will,” says Rosalie, grasping onto your hands tighter and forcing you to sit back down. “You aren’t getting away that easily. I’m not letting go until you promise to come visit us soon. Bring Bea along as well too.”
“Okay, okay, I promise.” Rosalie releases you hands and you stand up. “I just have this flight to catch, and you know how expensive it is to fly across the Atlantic. Besides Hilda Gunnarson is looking after Bea and she’ll be wondering where I got to.”
“There’s another recluse,” Rosalie calls after you. “Tell her to phone me.”
“I will,” you reply, waving at Rosalie. She smiles at you and waves back.
| Members who added to this interactive story also contributed to these: |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author