If there is one thing about Perfect World online that I like even until now, it’s the abundance of fan fictions you can come up with it as a source material. For a time, especially back when I had Toffee (my laptop) with me, I especially enjoyed coming up with different tales related to the diverse world of Pangu. I’d twist a character here, tweak the lore there, add a dose of imagination, and voila, I have a piece of fan fiction. Sometimes I joined contests and bagged prizes (weee).
Anyway, I am going to share a fan fiction I created as an entry to a story-making contest sponsored by Perfect World PH. We were supposed to choose one particular NPC in the game and come up with a background story for him or her. I did not want to be too mainstream so I opted for an NPC that wasn’t very popular (I myself did not like him that much). After reading his dialogue, I came up with the basic premise. I added a few details and came up with this. Enjoy.
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“Where, from islands in the river,
Ospreys clang, there dwells apart,
Sweet and fair, a modest maiden,
Meet to win our Prince’s heart”
Thus starts the song I found pressed in the book “Tales of Foreign Lands” I got from Xu Xian of Peachblossom Castle. I hurried back to the bridge nearby, where Xu Xian still stood, leafing through the pages of “Feng Potian Biography” in the light of the setting sun.“Keep it,” he said with a smile. “’Tis a memory of times long gone.”
I asked him to tell me about it, and he closed his eyes and the book he held, and after a sigh, began his tale. He was the heir of a merchant family, he said, taught by the scholars of Dragon City in the art of trade and governance. Upon finishing his studies, he went to Arcadia Town for a brief respite. He was however, set to find something else—or rather, someone.
It was a quiet night. He could not sleep, and not even his books could invite slumber, so he went out and sat on one of the chairs by the town’s south entrance. It wasn’t long before his eyes started to droop, but then he heard a faint note, like the sound of water dripping inside an earthen jar. Then came another note, and another, until his soul was filled with melody that sent him seeking the source of such a beautiful sound. His search took him outside Arcadia Town. And there, sitting under a cherry tree in full bloom near the bridge, and seemingly glowing in the moonlight, was Beauty herself.
“Where the water lilies waver
In the stream—from dark to dawn,
To the dear maid, to win her favor,
Sweet and fair, his thoughts are drawn:”
He invited me to read the next lines, and with eyes cast into the distance, continued his story.She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, he said. Her skin was fair, her hair was white as the snow of faraway mountains, her eyes violet like fresh lavenders, and all of her seemed to shine with a radiance that rivaled the moon itself. She was holding a lute like in an embrace, and strummed its strings with unearthly grace. She moved her head to the melody of her instrument, her hair carried to a dance by the breeze. Xu Xian found himself catching his breath from watching her.
The music suddenly stopped. He looked at her, and he saw her staring at him with wary eyes. She hurriedly grabbed her lute, and hastily stood up.
“Wait,” Xu Xian had called to her, but she left.
The next two nights, the same thing happened. He asked the townspeople about the girl, but nobody knew her, except for her song. The feeling inside Xu Xian began to burn, from a small flame to an almost raging fire. He had to get her name and talk to her. Before night came, he hid himself behind the bridge, and waited. Just when sleep was beginning to get the better of him, she arrived, shining as ever, this time on brilliant white wings. She began to play, and Xu Xian felt himself aching for her. Before he knew it, he had come out of his hiding place.
“Please don’t be afraid,” Xu Xian said. “I won’t hurt you. I just want to know your name, and why you play that beautiful song every night.”
The girl finally spoke, “I play for my brother, who died under this same tree to protect this town.” She stood up and turned to leave.
“May I ask for your name? I’m Xu Xian.”
“I’m Yu Xue,” she said before she left on her brilliant wings.
“For he sought her, sought her vainly;
But day and night his fancies go
To find her, the night is sleepless,
Full of tossings to and fro”
Thus were the last lines, for the paper was torn, and I looked at Xu Xian with questioning eyes. He nodded sorrowfully.
“Yes, she disappeared.”
He stayed on the bridge every night, while she played under the tree. Sometimes he brought her flowers and some sweet buns, which she received with a smile. She began to talk to him a little more, about Nanke Village where she came from, and about her brother who died. But she refused to tell him where she lived. One day, Xu Xian decided he could not endure any longer. He bought a beautiful scarf for her and waited for night. At last she came and after playing her song he approached her, and gave her the scarf he bought. She smiled, but suddenly her eyes filled with sorrow. She accepted the gift and took off the bracelet she wore on her right hand.
“This was given to me by my brother. I am sorry I cannot stay any longer. Please don’t look for me. And thank you,” she said. She opened her wings, and coughed once. And Xu Xian saw blood trickling down from her lips. Then, she hurriedly left, into the darkness, into the star-laden sky. That was the last time he saw her.
“The page is torn, sir,” I said.
“Yes. I lost the other half, you see.”
“So you never heard anything more about her?”
“No. But I’ll wait here for her. My family stripped me of my heirloom, said I was a fool not fit for my family’s name. But I will wait for her,” and his eyes turned back to the distance.
Sensing the end of the conversation, I left. But I hadn’t gone far from the bridge when I heard Xu Xian’s voice, uttering a song. And I smiled.
“Pluck the water lilies gladly!
Sweet and fair, she comes at last!
Lute and harp lend all your music!
Sweet and fair, let lilies castSacrificial to her welcome
Usher in the bride to be!
Join, ye people, all your voices,
With the merry minstrelsie!”
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The song is not mine. it’s
The Song of the Ospreys, a beautiful piece of Chinese literature, translated by an anonymous translator.