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The old fisherman Wei Chen found a wooden chest dragged in from the sea. He expected gold, or jewels, perhaps, maybe some famous lost weapon, but within he found a baby boy, wrapped in a wolf’s skin.
Dammit, he thought. Shit like this means he’ll have to be involved with gods and legendary warriors someday.
But whatever. He’s already taken in so many foundlings, and the other day he thinks he caught Yu Wenzhou drawing a summoning circle— so what’s another troublesome fucker?
No worse of a problem. He named him Fang Rui.
So Fang Rui grew up on the southern coasts of Blue Brook, an absolute thieving rascal with a golden heart, snatching chickens for the old woman that lives in the woods. Yu Wenzhou learned how to keep a faerie or two under his pinkie finger, and later on Wei Chen took in another kid, a street urchin who tried to steal some of his wares, Huang Shaotian, who would never stop running his mouth.
And eventually, there would come a time when Wei Chen’s boys would grow up, local legends meant for something greater than their southern fishing village. Huang Shaotian and Yu Wenzhou went to the capital, seeking an audience and perhaps a job from a noble. Fang Rui went north on a mule, a sling in his hands and his pockets full of rocks.
With pockets full of rocks he arrives at the kingdom of Wind Howl, no real destination in mind, but as night falls he manages to borrow an extra bed.
He first saw Lin Jingyan rushing down the street with a leg of dried ham over his shoulder, the butcher hot on his heels. It was like those cheesy love stories the young wives always asked the traveling bards to tell, about two star-crossed lovers meeting because of a coincidence of interests, a touch of the hands, some spark.
In his case, he pulled Lin Jingyan into an alleyway, buying him enough time to call his hounds and escape.
Lin Jingyan had a lot of hounds, all of them large and fierce, fiercely loyal. He lived on the edge of town, but he did have an extra pallet to lend Fang Rui. He wouldn’t be lying if he agreed partly because of the dogs.
In the morning they sit down and talk. Lin Jingyan learns Fang Rui had just left home, in search of something better to do. Fang Rui learns Lin Jingyan led a local band of thugs when he wasn’t running errands for the weaponsmith, who may or may not have provided them weapons under the table. Like another set of soldiers, cleaning up where the king’s guards overlooked.
As for that leg of ham? Lin Jingyan wanted to feed the hounds something nice, but there was also the thing about how he didn’t really like the butcher’s personality
Fang Rui could respect that. He gets a feeling that he won’t mind living in Wind Howl, in a cottage on the edge of town, running through the streets and stealing chickens like he did as a kid in Blue Brook. Who cares about an audience with a noble? Let Huang Shaotian be rich and famous and whatever, he won’t have the benefit of living simply with a friend who has dogs.
Down south in Blue Brook, Wei Chen receives letters from Yu Wenzhou and Huang Shaotian. It turned out Yu Wenzhou had an innate talent in magic, and is now studying under Blue Rain’s Court Warlock. As for Huang Shaotian, he’s now the lieutenant of the Royal Guard. The fisherman never writes back, understanding that the more important the boys become, the more likely some enemies would go seek out familial connections.
But Fang Rui, the little shit, never wrote a letter. It’s starting to make the old geezer worried!
No need to worry, really, as Fang Rui is living a comfortable life in Wind Howl, sharing a cottage with his friend and spending his days thieving from the rich and hawking their possessions in the next town over. Not that Wei Chen would know, and so each day he casts his nets into the sea with the memory of a baby boy he once found in a wooden chest, and wondering what the damn fuck the grown boy is doing, praying he isn’t dead or something worse.
The Sword and Curse, as they’re now called, never seem to get ahold of Fang Rui either. They’ve sent hawks and letters from time to time, to no avail, but Yu Wenzhou is never that worried, knowing Fang Rui is at least alive.
And Fang Rui? Gets an ever-growing reputation as a shameless, but righteous thief. Ever so often a watchman might catch him running on the cobblestones at dusk, the shots shining dully under the moonlight as they fly out from his sling, finding their mark in some greedy merchant’s window.
For a time, they’ve never caught Fang Rui the thief, but they’ve always thought there was something a little suspicious about Fang Rui the peddler. But he was cheap, and interesting to talk to, so the peasants didn’t mind all that much.
At midnight he would return home to the small cottage he shares with Lin Jingyan, asking him how his day was, what unsavory people he beat up and what sort of weapons the smith was working on. And Lin Jingyan would feed scraps of beef (courtesy of Fang Rui) to his hounds, and tease Fang Rui about his thieving antics.
A few years ago, if someone asked Fang Rui, riding north on his mule, where he was headed to, he might’ve shrugged and given some vague answer about the army or gamekeeping. Ask him now, and he’d say he has no plans of leaving Wind Howl. He’d say he’s gotten attached to Lin Jingyan’s hounds, but more and more, it seems like he’s gotten a stronger attachment to Jingyan himself.
Someday, he mused, someday he’ll write a letter to the old fisherman. But he never gets to it, always too distracted stealing wares or selling stolen wares to buy some paper and ink.
And soon enough, he couldn’t even get paper if he wanted to, because Wind Howl was fighting a war with Tiny Herb farther in the north, and the papermaker was drafted to fight.
When he runs through the streets at night, he could see lights glowing in the inns, filled with soldiers staying the night as they make their way to the front. During the day, when he’s peddling his wares, military commanders stand at the corners, flashing gold coins at the young and poor, tempting them to join.
He knows full well many of them won’t return. In the north, Tiny Herb has Wang Jiexi, the most powerful magician in the land, with his burning demon’s eye that cast a blight onto everything it looked upon. For Wind Howl, it was bleak; it was always smaller and a little weaker with their military compared to places like Excellent Era, per se, and even if their diplomats managed to bring in Blue Rain as an ally— there was Demon-Eyed Jiexi infecting the footsoldiers with blight. Even if they didn’t get defeated, they’d be easily overpowered simply because of how many people died driving Tiny Herb out the first time.
And, well, Fang Rui decided he’ll cross that bridge when the northern invaders come into the town. He and Lin Jingyan can go south, to Blue Rain. He’s sure the people at Blue Brook will welcome him back.
Meanwhile, in the capital, Wind Howl’s seers prophesied a hero, originally from southern lands, fated to blind the Demon-Eyed Magician and turn the tides of the war. The king ordered people to search through the country for this person, but for Fang Rui, it was life as usual. Lin Jingyan and the weaponsmith were making bank these days because of how many people were going to war. The day before they had a duck for dinner, and the hounds got an entire cow carcass.
Eventually, it starts getting riskier to thieve at night. More soldiers, more guards walking around at night, and it’s getting harder to sneak around.
He’s snatched a golden statue from some rich man’s warehouse one night, and perhaps he didn’t catch the solder standing nearby in the shadows, or somebody saw through an inn’s window, but soon enough there were soldiers on his tail, and him winding randomly through the streets, not really considering his direction.
And honestly, he thought he was toast, and he thought he would’ve been hanged or thrown in prison, with Lin Jingyan at home wondering where he was, growing more fearful by the hour, but, well, Fang Rui had never lost use for his sling, and though he usually preferred to not harm others— he’s getting chased by people with malicious intent that’s a pretty damn good excuse okay?
Something about him must’ve been particularly impressive, because it was as if the moon had opened its rays to shine down on him, haloing him in light. Two owls flew out and settled in front of him, and when his hands fumbled, causing him to drop a stone, it sparkled, like a crystal.
When the guards subdued him, they didn’t take him to prison but to the local lord.
The lord didn’t look that impressed. “So you’re telling me that this scrappy little thief is prophesied to take down the Demon Eye?”
“I swear it on my life, my lord. Swear it, it was as if the gods singled him out. Two owls standing between him and us, the moon like a halo behind his head.”
“Well that’s all fine and dandy, but is he a foreigner? I’ve seen this man peddle fancy goods for the past two years— no wonder they were all fancy, if he was stealing them.”
That causes some uncertainty among the guards, who begin murmuring among themselves.
Fang Rui, sensing a chance to escape a thief’s punishment, decides to speak. “I’m from Blue Rain.”
It catches the lord’s attention. “A southerner, huh? We have southerners come here all the time, so what’s different about you? You throw slings. How could you blind Wang Jiexi?”
“I dunno about that.” He shrugs, as if not that concerned, though he’s actually quite scared about what Lin Jingyan might do if he finds him missing at dawn. “But I mean, I was raised by a fisherman along with two other boys. They’ve gone to the capital, but I mean, Wenzhou was always really talented with that magic shit, and Shaotian had a good hand with the sword.”
By that point, he was simply trying his best to cover his ass, but something about Wenzhou and Shaotian reminded the lord of something, and he started talking to his advisor.
After a few tense minutes, he tells the servants to prepare a room for Fang Rui. “We’ll look into this further, but you might be needed on the front.”
“Can’t I just go home?”
“No? You might just run away!”
So much for covering his own ass. Though he’s stationed in a rather nice room for the night, with a feather bed, he prays to the gods that Lin Jingyan won’t tear through the town with his dogs tomorrow in search of him.
The next morning, he wakes to a tapping at his window. Not a bird’s tapping, but something more like knuckles. Considering that he was on the second floor, he really wanted to know who managed to climb up the walls without getting caught.
Lin Jingyan managed to climb up the walls without getting caught.
Fang Rui opens the window, almost hissing in his face. “What are you doing here?”
He laughs. “I heard what happened, but don’t worry. I’ll go with you to the front, if they send you there. I’ll even bring the hounds, they’ll be useful in battle, won’t they?”
“I’m not going to war, Jingyan! You sure as hell aren’t going, even if they drag me there.”
“Are you scared for the dogs?”
“I’m scared for you! ”
Lin Jingyan doesn’t seem to have a good answer for that. Finally, he sighs, and climbs down the wall. “That’s sweet, but it doesn’t matter. Where you’re going, I’ll be following behind, watching your back.”
When Fang Rui was a kid, he used to have dreams of being a soldier, or maybe a naval captain. Common kid shit, imagining you’re some military captain here to save the country. Thank the gods they didn’t put anyone under his command when they dragged him to the military, but they did make him practice drills. Fuck, the drills. Nobody ever told his younger self about the drills.
Despite his protest, Lin Jingyan also joined the war. He was somewhere else, working with tacticians and whatnot to figure out how they could employ his hounds against the enemy.
He’d never get to see him for weeks on end, and at times he gets this cold, visceral fear that maybe they sent Jingyan out to combat— and that maybe he’s dead.
And then a couple days later Jingyan would come by to visit with some apology about a busy schedule and Fang Rui would almost cry into his shoulder about his fearing for his dumb ass’s safety.
Whatever it was, though, they put him on a pedestal. They said he was some prophesied hero. Others would talk about how he used to be a shameless thief. He’s still shameless, and he still looks like he shouldn’t be completely trusted— but he really does miss the anonymity of the cottage he shared with Jingyan and the dogs.
And then they deployed him, for real, and he’s running about in light armor launching heavy lead shots instead of the smooth stones he used to have, bashing in the skulls of enemies who didn’t wear helmets and giving headaches to the ones who did. Occasionally, he’d see a familiar hound biting at a soldier’s juglar, and he gets the reassuring feeling that Lin Jingyan is still alive.
They kept on moving him around, anyways. He wasn’t supposed to attain victory by his sling skills. They were looking for Wang Jiexi, and trying to place Fang Rui on the same battlefield as him.
Wind Howl still wins the occasional battle, but loses more. Blue Rain agrees to help them fight off the northerners. Fang Rui plays with the idea of perhaps running into one of the Sword and Curse at some point. He wonders how much they’ve changed since they were kids.
The day he faces the Demon Eye, it rained the night before. The grassy field is wet under his feet, and the air is slightly foggy. In the distance, he can see the green magic glowing from Jiexi’s staff. The commanders chat among themselves, and one nods in understanding, handing Fang Rui a shield polished to a mirrorlike quality. “You know what to do,” She whispers.
“... Can I ask you for something?”
“I can’t guarantee anything.”
He nods. “The man with the hounds. Lin Jingyan. Protect him.”
He doesn’t know if they did, but he leaves with the hope that Jingyan has a chance to survive.
It’s as if the gods took their hands and parted the crowds, and he weaves a path towards the green light, towards the Magician of the north. His face grows clearer through the fog— he wears an eyepatch covered in holy runes— perhaps the demonic aura of it is weighing on him too.
Not that it matters. Fang Rui bides his time, almost invisible among the skirmishes, waiting for the eye to be revealed. From time to time, he checks the reflection in the mirrorlike shield— there, he’s raising his arm, his hand’s going towards his face.
One, two, three circles of the sling, and then he launches the shot, watching its patch in the mirror as the earth beneath him starts blackening with blight.
He never saw it, but he hears the sickening squish of the shot making impact with the eye, and the shout of pain that told him the Demon Eye is gone.
One of Tiny Herb’s paladins goes straight after the eye, destroying it with a holy incantation. But the damage is done. The earth behind Wang Jiexi is blackened, a whole regiment of soldiers struggling to breathe as their skin blackens and shrivels. The Demon Eye is gone, and the northerners retreat.
They hail him as a hero that night, and they’re all so confident that from now on, the war will pass smoothly. Wind Howl will remain unconquered. Too many people offer Fang Rui drinks, and after a while all the praise becomes sickening.
Somehow, he stumbles out of the tavern and into the night. He heads back to camp, looking for where they kept the animals. Jingyan would be with his hounds.
And there he was, snoozing on a giant, furry black dog. Fang Rui feels a little gross, he didn’t clean up after the battle, they dragged him to the tavern once they enemy retreated.
“Lao Lin.” He prods him gently. “Lin Jingyan.”
He stirs, yawning softly before taking Fang Rui’s bloody hand in his own. “You did it.”
“My job is over. Let’s go home.”
Nobody quite knew what happened to Fang Rui of the Golden Hand after the war. Some say he was taken up to the heavens, others said he was stolen by the Fey. But in a small town towards the southern parts of Wind Howl, there was a peddler by the name of Fang Rui. At night, people would say they’ve seen him stealing from the merchants’ warehouses, and he sure was good with the sling.
In a small cottage by the edge of town, Fang Rui lives with Lin Jingyan. With part of his pension money he bought the two of them rings. Fine ones, crafted from gold.
Surprisingly, the papermaker survived the war. On his way home from a day of peddling, Fang Rui stops by to buy some paper and ink, and when night falls, he composes a letter to Wei Chen, Jingyan leaning on his shoulder.