The Vanished Tablet
Dang Sohye looked up at the stage rising in the central courtyard of the Dang Clan. The troupe was building it themselves, and it was nothing like the one they had used at the inn.
At the inn the platform had barely stood off the ground. This one was different. Small children would not even be able to see the stage from below.
For their sake, Dang Sohye granted the children access to a pavilion that overlooked the courtyard. Citing their safety, she stationed martial artists there as well.
Whatever scheme might be aimed at the stage, the security around it had only grown tighter. She had also spoken at length with the Master of the Hwan-sa Hall.
The trial of the Hwan-sa Hall was built on three layers. First came the clan's inner-courtyard guards, who patrolled every building. Anyone who slipped past them and reached the shrine would find powder dusted across every inch of the floor — whoever entered would leave white prints on the soles of their feet. Last of all, a tracking fragrance had been scattered over the Illusion Master's memorial tablet. It was not as potent as the Thousand-Li Tracking Fragrance, but no one would leave the Dang grounds without being caught.
The trial looked simple at a glance. The reason it had never once been passed was that it took place inside the Dang Clan itself. Stealing into the heart of a martial family — where even the children trained in the arts — and doing so under every watching eye was no small feat.
Dang Sohye thought it a little underhanded. The adults who had lived through the war only said that a true Illusion Master would have cleared it a dozen times over.
"Underhanded is still underhanded."
"Hearing an enemy call you underhanded is the highest praise there is."
"Grandfather!"
An old man had appeared at her side without a sound. A long beard hung from his chin, thick as Lord Guan's.
He was Dang Woo, the Dark Cloud Poison Sovereign — the Grand Elder of the Dang Clan. He and the Ten-Step Illusion Master had once been friends known as the Twin Stars of Sichuan.
Together they had toyed with the armies of the old empire using poison and face-changing arts, and the people of Sichuan had revered them for it. Where the Illusion Master had delighted everyone with his transformations, Dang Woo had been a man others found hard to approach.
The poison researchers of the Dang Clan had always seemed a little narrow to outsiders. The Illusion Master had once suggested that Dang Woo grow a beard like Lord Guan's.
After losing the one friend who could joke with him that way, Dang Woo grew the beard. He preferred to be called the White-Bearded Lord rather than the Dark Cloud Poison Sovereign.
Softened by the long white beard the Illusion Master had recommended, Dang Woo had become a pillar of the Sichuan people after the war. The one subject that still darkened his face was anything connected to the Illusion Master.
"I hear the actor performed the Face-Changing Art."
"Yes. It was the first time I'd ever seen it… but I recognized it because of what you told me, Grandfather."
"Hmph. Face-Changing Art, of all things… even that Divine Thief brat used to know how to do it."
Once word spread that Dang Sohye was overseeing the performance, Dang Woo had taken to seeking her out now and then, telling her stories of the Illusion Master and his disciple. He spoke ill of the disciple as if the young man displeased him — and the fact that the Shadowless Divine Thief had still never passed the trial only seemed to deepen the grudge.
"I think the Divine Thief came again this time."
"Hmph. Of course he would. It's his master's memorial tablet."
Dang Woo and Dang Sohye looked down at the stage and talked in low voices, mostly about possible routes of intrusion into the Hwan-sa Hall.
As they spoke, something snagged at the edge of Dang Sohye's mind. Who was it again…? She could not quite remember the face, which meant the person was probably not from Sichuan…
Dang Woo studied her expression for a long moment, then asked,
"Something bothering you?"
After a brief hesitation, she told him about the actor. In her memory, the face he had revealed when he removed the mask was one she had seen somewhere before.
Dang Woo listened without comment, then asked again,
"You didn't fall for him at first sight, did you?"
"Grandfather!"
"It isn't only something that happens in novels. Even in the middle of a war, love found a way to bloom…"
Before the conversation could turn to marriage, Dang Sohye grumbled and fled. Dang Woo watched her go and burst into a hearty laugh.
Lanterns lit the edges of the courtyard, and the people of the Dang Clan gathered in twos and threes before the stage. The hour to raise the curtain had come.
At the appointed time, the troupe snuffed every lantern in the courtyard at once. The moment darkness swallowed the yard, lights flared behind the stage.
A great shadow fell across the rear curtain. The children who saw it cried out in delight.
"Long, long ago…"
The shadow became soldiers of the old empire. The shadow play depicted their plunder, and it held the crowd from the first moment.
The old empire stripped the innocent bare. Just as the audience began to think the cruelty too much to bear, one commoner rose to his feet. He trembled — then took up a sword.
The commoner swung. A soldier of the old empire fell. The others, seeing their comrade down, turned and fled.
The remaining soldier spun in place, hunting for an escape — and the commoner, fury driving every stroke, cut him down. The blade that felled the soldier also split the curtain.
The commoner tore through the fabric and leapt onto the stage. The crowd held its breath and stared.
When the actor's monologue ended, the audience roared. Dang Woo was one of the great elders of the clan who had lived through the war; the name Woo was more than enough to call him to mind.
The people of the Dang Clan were moved beyond words to see their family's deeds played out upon a stage. Watching them — and the performance — Dang Woo wore a faintly embarrassed look.
The actor crossed the boards in a blaze of passion. He shaped the fighting after martial forms, then gradually slowed as if exhaustion were overtaking him.
Other actors pressed in on Woo. He cut them down, yet the weariness showed; he leaned against one side of the stage and slowly sank.
A sigh of pity rose from the crowd — and a man stepped forward to support him. He led Woo through a door.
The double doors opened, and just as at the inn, the shadows of the stage lanterns swallowed the actors from view. Dang Sohye's eyes went to the door set on the opposite side.
That second door, some ten paces across the stage, swung open. Two actors closed it behind them and stepped into the light.
Whatever device they used, the pair had appeared a full ten paces away. Unlike at the inn, Dang Sohye focused her gaze with care.
It was the same trick as the shadow play — an illusion of lantern light. A great shadow thrown between the two doors had hidden their crossing.
Reassured, she settled in to enjoy the play. The trial of the Hwan-sa Hall was Dang Yu's concern, as Master of the Hall.
The man who had saved Woo was called Hwan. Back to back, Hwan and Woo fought the war together.
After weathering another crisis, Woo returned wounded to Hwan's home.
"How long do you mean to keep throwing yourself into every fight without a thought for your own body?"
"Until I take from them everything they took from me. Until they die drowning in regret."
Hwan shook his head — then performed the Face-Changing Art and became a mature woman.
"M-Mother…"
As Woo's voice broke, Hwan shifted faces again and again. The Face-Changing Art.
"No matter how many enemies you kill, the dead do not come back."
"Shut up!"
"…Whatever battle you walk into, I will be at your side. But… victories like this make me wonder, sometimes… whether they are worth the cost."
Hwan left Woo and stepped out through the door. Alone, Woo leaned against the wall and sank down — just as he had when Hwan first saved him.
From that day, Woo's fighting changed. He fought to protect the comrades around him.
Then their final battle drew near. The enemy had surrounded the martial artists of the new dynasty; the two of them each took a band of fighters and chose opposite directions to break the encirclement.
"You said it once. No matter how many enemies we kill, they do not come back."
"I did."
"Then what must we do to bring them back?"
"They do not come back. Nothing we do will change that. But… if we survive — if we seize life itself — then someone, somewhere, will live the way we once did. With family. With friends. In a world worth living in."
"When the war ends, you should open a village school. You love preaching that much."
Woo snorted and needled him. Hwan rapped him on the head.
"See you alive."
"You live. You must."
Woo never knew it, but the audience offered a silent gasp of wonder — for in the instant Hwan struck his head, Woo's face became Hwan's.
And as Hwan turned away, his face had become Woo's. The two actors opened the stage doors and vanished.
Once more the shadow play painted the battle. Then Woo stood alone upon the stage. Wounded, he tore off a silver mask — and became Hwan.
Hwan staggered as he walked.
"The first time I saw you… your face looked exactly like mine."
He leaned against the stage wall and slowly crumpled.
"Having lost everything… sunk in despair… with nothing left but hatred…"
Hwan slid down the wall to sit upon the floor and continued his monologue. It was the same place where Woo had fallen. Soft music began to rise from behind the stage.
"A light sound of laughter,
wrapping me in warmth…"
Hwan collapsed before he could finish the verse, but everyone knew the song. It was called Sentiments of Bygone Days — a poem the people of Sichuan had recited through the war, carrying both their longing for a peaceful past and their hope of winning that peace back again.
The Dang clansmen watching the play took up the song in Hwan's place. When the last line faded, the curtain fell.
The audience thundered its applause. Dang Sohye, eyes red-rimmed, turned to look at Dang Woo.
Of all the spectators, only he still wore a look of dissatisfaction. Even so, he was clapping.
Once the actors had taken their bows and the crowd began to scatter, Dang Yu's restless figure finally came into view.
Dang Woo summoned him, along with Dang Min and Dang Sohye. The four of them gathered in the front row of seats where the Grand Elder had been watching.
"I—I am sorry. The Illusion Master's memorial tablet has disappeared."
"What?!"
"Quiet. As if you ever cared."
"Father…"
"So this is the second time the trial has been passed… Summon the actors to my quarters."
"Yes, sir."
Dang Woo rose and started for his residence. As Dang Yu went to fetch the actors, Dang Sohye and Dang Min followed the Grand Elder.
"The Clan Head I can understand — but why are you tagging along, Sohye?"
"Because I'm curious."
"Heh… Fair enough. Come along. The Dang Clan never could stand leaving a question unanswered."
Dang Woo made for the small hermitage in his garden — a place with a broad table, comfortable for several people to sit. And the ones who appeared before him were three.