Xingxi was slowly getting the hang of flying. It was less about flapping her wings, she learned, and more about positioning and control. Once adjusting her wings to the air currents became second nature, Xingxi found herself able to let her mind wander and take in the sights from up above.
Viewing the world from above was so extraordinarily different from what it looked like from below. It made her believe Auntie Tangyou and Uncle Luming’s stories about gods and heavens; anyone who always saw the world from a place in the sky must hold infinite wisdom. Even at ten, she felt wise when she soared.
Something caught her eye from below: the shadow of a single bird flying below her, with something perched on its back. Curious, Xingxi focused her eyes on the figure.
“There’s a kid on the crane’s back!” she called to her father, and in her excitement she closed her wings and dove down to get a better look.
The person atop the crane looked a little bit younger than her, wearing a set of matching clothes the color of Auntie Liuying’s pale jade. As Xingxi moved closer she saw a look of terror on the girl’s face, and she laughed a bit to herself. Maybe it was this person’s first time flying.
Her curiosity did not go unnoticed for long. The crane glared at her through one eye and with a graceful turn changed directions to face her. It was then Xingxi realized how much larger the waterfowl was compared to her, a realization punctuated by a hit from one of the crane’s powerful wings.
Xingxi lost her balance and forgot everything her father had taught her about maintaining flight. She plummeted, her descent slowed slightly by the frantic flaps of her wings, which soon turned into desperate kicks of her human legs.
Right before she was about to hit the canopy, a pair of strong talons grabbed onto her arms, and once again she was lifted back into the air. Her father’s grip was tight enough to be painful, but Xingxi was too relieved to complain.
“Be careful, Xingxi,” Feiyi scolded. “You nearly fell to your death.”
“There’s a kid on the crane’s back,” Xingxi repeated.
“I saw,” Her father said as he climbed thermals to regain their height. They were chasing down the crane, she realized to her delight, and she kicked her legs eagerly. Soon they were two eagles again, cutting through the clouds like arrows. Through her superior vision Xingxi could see the crane in the distance, flying low near the river. It was easy for two eagles to lessen the distance between them and fly alongside the crane, one at each wing.
“Hey!” Xingxi called, her voice warbling in her small bird throat. The child, who had been resting her head against the crane’s back, looked up, startled. She frantically tapped at the crane’s back, who extended its neck to look at the two interlopers.
“Forgive my daughter’s excitement,” Feiyi added. “She’s sometimes too forward for her own good.”
The crane glanced from father to daughter. Then, with several powerful flaps of its wings it slowed down and landed near the riverbank, its wings settling down at its sides for an instant before transforming into long white sleeves. The crane transformed into a tall woman who held the child protectively in her arms despite her being slightly too big to be held easily. The woman’s eyes darted back and forth between the two eagles, her entire body tense and wary.
Luo Feiyi swooped down and took his human form as well. Taking her cue from her father, Xingxi concentrated hard as she neared the ground and willed away her wings and talons, replacing her graceful eagle form with her awkward long-limbed pre-adolescent body. She landed on the ground and rushed towards the woman with her remaining momentum, her excitement overriding any sense of danger or caution.
A gust of wind stopped her in her tracks, and as she tried to push ahead through the squall she found herself unable to move. Any attempt resulted in a flurry of pins and needles shooting through her limbs. She let out a cry of pain and called for her father.
Luo Feiyi landed in front of his daughter and summoned a sword from one of his feathers. “There’s no need for violence here.”
The woman glanced at his sword, a thick curved blade the length of his arm, and said impassively, “We do not wish to fraternize with demons.” Xingxi could feel the thrall over her body dissipate; once her limbs were free, she scurried to the safety of her father, peeking over his shoulder with a more cautious glare.
“I see no difference between the two of us.” Feiyi nudged his daughter slightly away so he could sheathe his sword. “Haven’t we both dedicated years of cultivation to achieve human form?”
“I, however, serve a sage welcomed within the halls of Heaven. You do not seem to have any holy affiliations.”
“Yes we do,” Xingxi interjected. “I have an auntie who’s a phoenix and two uncles who are princes—a human one and a dragon!” Feiyi turned and shushed her, and she flinched at her father’s glare.
The crane raised an eyebrow. “Strange company you keep.”
“I could say the same thing to you, Lady Crane,” Feiyi countered. “What are you flying around these parts with a human girl on your back?” He glanced over at the girl. “Are you alright with her? Is she taking you somewhere you don’t want to go?” Startled, the girl shook her head.
“What’s your name?” Xingxi asked, emboldened by her father’s tone. The girl shrank behind the crane woman and didn’t answer. The crane woman leaned in close and whispered something to her, after which she nodded.
“Qiping is still learning to speak,” she explained.
Xingxi looked up at her father, who after some consideration gave a small nod. With decisive steps she approached the two strangers and introduced herself to Qiping. Qiping was also slowly getting over her shyness and followed Xingxi, the two girls beginning to play even as one did not speak. Xingxi chattered to fill the silence, punctuated by Qiping’s laughs. Bixian glanced over at the eagle demon, who watched the children fondly. “I am looking for a home for this child,” she said slowly “Perhaps you may show me where you are raising your daughter in the company of dragons and phoenixes.”
Three birds once more took to the skies, following the curving path of the river to Clear Water Mountain. Forest gave way to tilled farmland as they neared, small patchwork affairs where wild plants grew alongside crops. A wide arch designated the village gate, the character 桥 adorned in fine metalwork. The two eagles took on their human forms as they landed, and Xingxi ran off to find the village leaders.
Soon four individuals arrived, each one different from the others: a phoenix, a dragon, a snake, and a human prince. It startled Bixian a bit to realize the eagle child was not lying. The adults introduced themselves in turn, and took kindly to Qiping’s plight.
Bixian placed a hand on Qiping’s shoulder and stood tall. It was rare for her to speak in any official capacity; while conducting business with the Qilin Sage, it was usually he who spoke and she who listened. Still, she was able to keep her voice steady as she greeted the leaders of the Qiao and explained Qiping’s need to find a new home.
The situation seemed amenable, and Bixian was about to take her leave when something tugged on her sleeve.
She took the girl’s hand and released her sleeve from her grasp. “I cannot. I have a duty to the Qilin Sage.” Qiping stubbornly grabbed onto Bixian’s other sleeve. If it weren’t for the tight grip, Bixian would have transformed into a crane to fly away.
“You’re not her mother?” Tangyou asked.
Bixian shook her head. “She’s my master’s ward. Was his ward. I am simply here to find a suitable home for her, nothing more.”
“She seems to see you as a mother,” Luming observed. “You would leave her in the company of strangers?”
“She’s made friends already, I am sure she will be happy here.”
“But what about you?”
Bixian blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“This is not simply a home for wayward children. If you need a place to stay as well, we are happy to have you here.”
“I have a purpose,” Bixian insisted. “I cannot abandon my post.”
Tangyou smiled and took Ao Luming’s hand. “We once thought the same thing, yet here we are.”
The crane looked between the assembled parties, unsure of what possible emotions were stirring inside her. It had always been so easy to nod along with the Qilin Sage’s whims and take him wherever he was needed. It was dangerous how infectious the philosophy of the Qiao were, even from brief conversations.
“I may be needed at the Qilin Sage’s side,” she said. “But I can be here when I am not needed. Would that be alright, Qiping?”
The girl smiled and hugged her waist. As Bixian patted her on the shoulder, a horrible realization stirred in her stomach. What was she doing, giving Qiping a home among celestial beings and demons? Wasn’t this the crime that led to Tianping Temple’s destruction?
Her worry was interrupted by the eagle girl, Xingxi, running towards the adults with a swaddled babe in her arms. “So you’re staying?” she asked Qiping excitedly, and happily jumped up and down when the other girl nodded. “I finally get to play with someone my age.”
“Luo Xingxi, be careful with my daughter,” Lady Liuying snapped.
Xingxi stopped her jumping and contritely rocked the bundle, before handing it over to Lady Liuying.
The snake demon merely rolled her eyes and took the swaddled bundle from the child’s arms. Bits of cloth tumbled and Bixian was able to see it clearly: instead of a human babe, a large round snake was coddled within the blankets, with ruby eyes and pale white scales. Liuying held the creature just as tenderly, and her partner leaned forward to coo at her sleeping face. The prince and the snake looked at their child lovingly, as if its presence wouldn’t anger the gods of Heaven and invoke their wrath. Surely they must know that her existence was sacrilege? The eagle child as well; human blood clearly coursed through her veins, and it would have been better if it were because she had eaten human flesh.
But Qiping was already off following her new friend through the village, the two of them giggling madly as if they had known each other for years. Somehow Bixian could not compel herself to rip the child away before she got too attached.
One year, she promised herself. She will give Qiping one year among these iconoclasts, before she finds the child a more suitable permanent home.