The Mother of Shadows: An Alternative History

The Turnaround

The refugee camp was located a stone's throw from Beijing itself. Quan Li had lost track of time inside the camp, drowning her sorrows at a makeshift bar that had been set up. An older, pot-bellied man handed out alcohol. Li became apathetic to the sights around her. Plenty of grieving widows and widowers entered, and orphaned children could be seen wandering outside. Many parents had left themselves behind so their children could have a chance to survive, but they were now left as orphans. The youths roamed the space in between the rows of tents and makeshift shelters, looking for anything edible, money, or something to barter for food.

The bar itself was a makeshift wooden stand with a few stools nearby and cloth “roof” to protect from the area's frequent dust storms. There was normally a bit of dirt in the filthy drink, but Quan Li had learned to put up with it. At first, Li had been appalled at what she was seeing. But as she saw others crying constantly, and became increasingly drunk, she stopped caring. She still had a lot of money, the bar still had lots of alcohol, and that was all she was concerned with. A number of rough men stayed near the bar, but she just sat in the corner and ignored them. They seemed to pay more attention to any new arrivals to the bar than to her.

It was one day that a strange patron entered the bar. It was obvious she was female from the shape of her body under the dress. She was dressed in a simple brown cloak, and held a pair of strange pistols under a rope belt. She had a red bandanna around her head, and sat at the bar.

“Sir, I humbly request water,” she bowed her head to the bartender.

The bartender dipped one of his filthy cups into a barrel of dark wash-water. He slammed it onto the bar, giving the patron an unfriendly glare. The other men at the bar began leering at the new female arrival. They began making suggestive gestures and comments at her. Li suddenly found herself focusing on the new patron. She got the feeling whatever was going to happen would get worse. There were not enough soldiers to keep order here, and civility and manners were failing.

The patron did not even turn her head to acknowledge them. She sat silently, slowly sipping her drink. One of the men stood up and shouted at the disciplined woman.

“Wench! You come to our bar, and dare not even to show the men proper respect?” the largest of the men shouted in a drunken, slurred voice.

He stood up, and reached his hands towards the short woman. The woman, still keeping her focus forward, effortlessly grabbed the back of his hand and torqued it down. With one hand, the woman in the bar had easily restrained the large man with a joint lock. The man tried wrenching his arm away in pain, but found himself unable to.

“Let me go, woman!” he shouted.

“As you ask,” the woman released his hand at the exact instant he jerked it back. He stumbled backwards, having lost his balance for a few instants. Standing back up, he lowered his gaze at the woman. Quan looked away. What would happen would not be pretty for either party.

“No one treats Gao the Mighty like a fool!” he shouted. “Boys, get that harlot!”

The other drunks stood up, and began to circle the woman. Some pulled out knives, and others pounded their fists together. The patron sat, finishing her drink calmly. She handed the cup with a small amount of money to the bartender.

“Thank you, sir,” she said curtly before turning to leave. The men, however, had surrounded her.

“You are not going anywhere, woman!” Gao shouted, rage apparent over his drunk voice.

“I am leaving this place,” she calmly nodded.

One of the men tried grabbing her, and what happened next was a blur to Quan. She quickly moved behind the man, and jumped up, putting him in a choke hold. She drew one of her strange pistols out, leveled it at another man, and pulled the trigger. Instead of a normal gunshot like Quan expected, a strange hissing sound erupted from the barrel. A bullet collided with the targeted man's knife, blasting it out of his hand.

“I am leaving, now,” she turned to Gao. “And if I am followed, there will be dire consequences. Do you comprehend this?”

Gao and the other men wordlessly backed away. Despite being drunk, they had enough survival instinct active enough to cause them to understand this. The woman walked away from the makeshift bar, as Quan suddenly stood up. She ran after the robe clad woman, hoping to speak with her before she vanished into the crowd of unwashed refugees nearby. She walked slowly and confidently, each step a controlled and measured amount. Quan darted after her, her movements uncertain and clouded by drink. The woman finally stopped and turned around to face her.

“You no doubt wish to inquire about my abilities,” the woman noted. “The look on your face and posture of your body reveals much to me.”

“Please!” Quan fell to her knees and began to plead. “I desire to learn to become as strong as you! I lost my husband and children, and I wish I could have been stronger to protect them!”

“I cannot help you,” the woman shook her head in apology. “Only you may learn to do that. But I am aware of some people who may assist you.”

“Please! Tell me where to find them!” Quan asked.

“Head to Beijing, and seek out the Daughters of the Revolution,” the woman nodded softly. “Tell them that Mei Shih has told you to seek them out.”

“Thank you very much!” Quan pleaded.

Mei Shih silently nodded, and then vanished back into the crowd. Quan Li stood up. She had lost so much, but what could she do? The fearsome Mongols could be waiting just outside the camp, and try to annihilate this camp like the previous one. So, what did she have to lose? Nothing. At the very least, she thanked her ancestors that she had been reminded there was more to life than the bottom of an alcohol filled cup.