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Chapter Three: Descent

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  In a noble residence,   Far north of Fujian province. On the eighth day of the eighth month of the year of the Dragon. ... Feng Xue watched the preparations with a serene gaze. Before him, a great wooden edifice on the east side of the main building was being decorated at beguiling speed, a worship altar erected in the middle. Poles were erected, and upon them, young maidens planted spring flowers to balance out the metal-heavy feng shui in the air. The calming smell of water lilies intermingled with the edgy scent of polishing oil and sharpened steel. Servants busied themselves, arranging the decorations and preparing the items for the occasion. Feng Xue stood quietly at the entrance. To his left—on the door—hung two bows and a yin sword. A musky yang aura with an undertone of yin wafted of the objects. Behind him, deep within the main building, one could faintly hear the distressed moans of a woman suffering the throes of childbirth. The father-to-be waited, staring silent...
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Chapter Two: A serpent, two carps and an angry cloud

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  “Qinglong, we mean no harm—” the voices within the ‘pearl’ said. “You mean no harm?” the dragon asked with an undercurrent of outrage. “Yet you bring that foul bird’s vital essence into my domain, tainting it.”  The dragon turned its attention to Chris whose soul had somehow now gained a crimson lustre. “And all this for a mere mortal soul? First, you undermined my divinity by supporting that foul bird’s ascension, then your collective stupidity cost me a third of my life force, and now this?! Have I grown so complacent that you would continue to so causally slight me? If so, then let me remind you the reason why I, Qinglong, am named the ancestor of dragons.”  “There is no reason to get angry, Qinglong—” the voices said in a bid to calm the angry dragon, unfortunately, their pleas fell on deaf ears.   Widening his maw, Qinglong growled, gathering the ambient energy in the air into his unhinged jaw. A spiralling azure orb of pure energy whirred into existence,...
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Chapter One: Samsara

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The Afterlife, Samsara.   ...    Chris’ eyes snapped open. His confused gaze stared out at the ‘sky’ before of him. The vastness took the appearance of a grey cloudy void. The atmosphere stifling. Oppressive.  “What the—” he groaned as he sat up. Chris did not know why, but he felt somewhat odd. Everything felt somewhat odd.  It was then he noticed the first problem.  He was mute.  “…”  Well, not mute per se. He was aware he just spoke. He could still hear the words he said. But only in his head. Mentally.  “…”   Well, that isn’t speaking,  Chris thought to himself.  I am just having an internal dialogue like I always do… Well, that sounded pathetic.  “…”  Again, Chris tried speaking audibly. No results. It was then noticed the second problem, or rather a host of additional problems.  To start, he also couldn’t hear anything. As in, anything. From the tapping of his feet on the glossy grey, mirror-smooth floor to...
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Prologue

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   © 2021 Agbaje Michael Adeyinka/ TheBlackbird/ Ravenaelwood   All rights reserved. Agbaje Michael Adeyinka is the exclusive owner of this book 'Fallen Lotus: The legends of Xiao Xue'. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher. For permissions contact, send a mail at:  michaelagbaje57@gmail.com  or adeyinkaagbaje2016@gmail.com Publishing or distributing this book without written permission from Agbaje Michael Adeyinka, the creator of this book, constitutes copyright infringement, and legal action can be taken. Any perceived slights to specific people or organizations are unintentional.   “Aeons gone rogue. The gloom and cold stratus, A world of Chaos, gales of mortality overrule. Zephyr, then tumble, A pure lone drifting lotus, Falls and soaks maroon, in a roadside pool.”      “…Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew; Nor did I wonder at the lily’s white,” Chris recited, mutt...
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