The giant turtle used its head to bust through the shuttered gate of Van Mieu, the Confucian university-cum-temple founded in 1070 AD. A trailing crowd entered behind the strange spectacle, curious as to what the hallowed grounds could mean in such a desperate hour. In the central courtyard, outlining the main temple hall, sat eighty-two stone stelae, sitting on the shells of eighty-two stone tortoises. Each stelae honored a famed Confucian scholar from the past who had completed a Doctorate in Confucian studies. These scholars had understood the way of wisdom and reason and had embedded their indelible mark on the foundation of modern-day Vietnam.
The giant turtle stopped in the center of the courtyard and moaned for the passengers to dismount. Lien slid off first and helped Tho to the ground.
“Tho, what are we doing here? Why doesn’t the turtle tell us?”
“It seems to have made up its mind to keep us in the dark.”
“But why? It talked to us in the lake?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s the water that allows him to speak because I’m not understanding any of his turtle grunts.”
“Tho, is there something here that we can do which will help the rebels? If so, we can’t delay.”
“It’s only a delay if you know what to do and decide not to do it in haste.”
“Tho!”
“Well, it seems the turtle brought us to eighty-two other turtles.”
“Why?”
Tho walked a few feet towards one row of stone turtles but stopped. Befuddled, he turned and tried the other way only to pause again and scratch his head. The turtle continued to moan.
“That is not helping, my great reptile friend. You could just tell us!” He stumbled about some more as he mumbled how if he had all four of the marble tablets, perhaps he could ask the universe for an answer.
The crowd encroached around the three in a full circle, and Lien yelled at them to back away. No one listened. One of them wanted to pet the turtle. Another kept asking who Tho and Lien were. Another one wept while describing the brutal fighting around the lake they had all been privy to.
A loud call echoed overhead. The long-tailed bird swooped down past the curved ends of the temple roof.
“Mom!” Minh clung to its back and waved to his mother with Nhan riding behind him. The crowd scattered as the bird circled. Lien ran after it, holding her hands to the sky, as the bird came to a soft landing in front of the turtle in the middle of the courtyard. Minh slid off the bird’s wings and into his mother’s arms. They allowed the tears to speak for the moment as they squeezed each other. Tho came alongside both of them and he rubbed the boy’s hair. Minh tucked his head under Tho’s shoulder and hugged him. The three stood as one for a moment as Nhan dismounted the bird and waited in the rear.
“Mom, I—”
“Shhh— I know. We can talk later.”
“Cuong is alive. He’s free now.” Minh reached into his pocket and held out the marble tablet. “They were old. All of them. And I used the tablet and now they’re back to their old selves. And … oh … Mom, the Chinese man became dad and tried to trick me, but—”
“The Chinese man?” asked Tho.
“But he’s dead. Lady Trieu killed him. But he was actually a winged tiger named Qiong Qi.”
“Qiong Qi?” The name struck Tho hard, and he grabbed the tablet from Minh’s hand as Minh continued to explain all the strange encounters.
“Your father? You’ve seen him?”
“Mom, Dad’s alive. He’s leading a group of rebels.”
“What?” Lien began crying softly. Tears fell from her cheeks, and she allowed them to flow uninterrupted. She finally noticed Nhan standing in the background. “Who’s this?”
“Oh, Mom. This is Nhan. Commander Lieu’s daughter. She rescued me.”
Lien looked at her strangely. “Thank you, Nhan. Your father fought valiantly, and it allowed us to escape and come here. Are you all right, Nhan?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Your skin. It’s glowing.”
Nhan looked down at herself in surprise. “Yes. I don’t know why.”
“And she walked through walls,” added Minh.
Lien looked at him queerly, “Minh, where is Lady Trieu?”
Both the turtle and the long-tailed bird let out a loud cry.
Nhan spoke up. “She went after Sun Quan.”
“By herself?”
“That’s all we have left,” said Minh. “Sun Quan overpowered Commander Lieu and has the rebels trapped at the edge of the lake.”
“No,” said Lien. “As we left, the commander was using the magic crossbow and …”
“It’s true,” confirmed Nhan. “We saw it all at the facility. They’re all trapped.”
“Oh my,” Lien sank into her thoughts. “And Minh, what’s this about your father?”
“He’s leading an attack from the south with all those who were prisoners in the facility. But it won’t be enough.”
“No,” said Tho, standing in front of one of the stone turtles. He had all four marble tablets in his hand raised over his head. “What we see is never enough, but we are not alone in this endeavor. We have the past to guide us. The faithful, faithful past which has brought us here. They’re showing the way once again. It’s why Qiong Qi appeared.”
“Who’s Qiong Qi?” asked Nhan.
“Tho, what are you doing?” Lien had made her way through the crowd to Tho’s side.
“We must see what awakens. Help us. May the wise words on these stelae return to life as action one more time.”
A crack formed on the top of the stone stelae and ran downward through its length and across the stone tortoise’s shell. The stone fell off like the tortoise was shedding an outer layer. Its eyes opened, and it stared at Tho for a moment before announcing its return with a giant shriek. Now there were two turtles.
Lady Trieu returned to the spire of St. Joseph’s Cathedral, a short distance from the lake’s shoreline. She watched for him and spoke. She knew he would understand.
Sun Quan, the troops, and the machines had secured the entire perimeter of the lake. The remaining rebels still huddled at the entrance of the water tunnel, protected for the time being from even Sun Quan. Commander Lieu laid on the ground at Sun Quan’s feet, half-unconscious. All that remained were Lien, Tho, and Lady Trieu.
“I am here,” she said.
He lifted his head and glanced toward the cathedral peeking out over the treetops across the street.
“Let us finish this,” she said.
Sun Quan motioned to his commander to stay put. He walked through the troops, and they backed up, including the machines. He continued into the edge of the cathedral’s courtyard and waited. She appeared on the street in front of the church alone, sword strapped to her back, and she walked toward him.
“He’s dead, you know,” she said. “The Chinese man. Or as dead as he’ll ever be.” Sun Quan didn’t respond. “You don’t believe me?”
“I’m surprised, but I believe you.”
“He didn’t come here to conquer Hanoi.”
“No.”
“But you had your own plan, to wait for me. Isn’t that right?” Trieu stopped in front of him just out of reach. Both remained calm. Neither reached for a weapon.
“Yes. Correct,” replied Sun Quan. “I don’t think as small as some. Thank you.”
She took a step closer. “For what?”
“For killing Qiong Qi. Now I’m free.”
She paused for a moment. “You wanted me to kill him because you couldn’t. Because … he brought you here.”
“We can be free together.” He reached his right hand out towards her.
“After everything you’ve done? After the destruction of my people?” Lady Trieu fumed.
“That’s where your thinking is wrong. These aren’t your people. Your people died centuries ago, and they were foolish to bring us back, so let’s paint them the fools they are. They mean nothing to beings like us, but they could afford us the world if we only stop battling each other.”
“You think I will turn so easily?”
“No,” replied Sun Quan. “That’s why you were able to defeat him. But if you choose to go against me, I will see to it that you never rise from the depths again.”
Lady Trieu unsheathed her sword and held it with one hand across her front. “I will bet on history.”
At that moment, the eighty-two turtles from Van Mieu revealed themselves between the streets and shops and trees of the western side of Hoan Kiem Lake. The citizens of Hanoi gathered around them, impervious to the bizarreness. They invited the turtles into their consciousness as they would a spring breeze. It seemed right and good that they were there. When all of history peers into the present and decides to coalesce around a moment, who stands to question it? All of Hanoi’s fabric had woven itself together for a final attempt to throw off the shackles one more time.
The giant turtle of the lake sauntered in behind Lady Trieu. Tho, Lien, Minh and Nhan all riding on its back. It stopped beside the lady from the lake. Nhan dismounted first, unsheathed her sword and stood next to Trieu. Minh joined her side. Lien instructed Tho to stay on the turtle’s shell as she slid off to stand at Trieu’s left. The four of them stood opposite Sun Quan. At the southern tip of the lake, a contingent of rebels, led by Minh’s father, waited further instruction. The great long-tailed bird swooped down and perched on top of Turtle Tower in the middle of Hoan Kiem Lake. Behind Sun Quan, protected at the edge of the tunnel, massed the other rebel troops, uncertain of their role. Their commander lay wounded in their sight.
“We will give you everything we have,” said Trieu.
Sun Quan nodded. “So be it.” Without warning, he threw himself forward like a missile, barreling over Lady Trieu onto her back. The force of impact had scattered Lien, Nhan, and Minh—now each watching from the ground themselves. Lady Trieu threw off Sun Quan with her legs and twisted around back onto her feet as the Chinese demon gathered himself and turned back toward her.
“Lien, look!” said Tho, still sitting on top of the turtle. “Her breasts have grown.”
Sure enough, Lady Trieu’s breasts had doubled in size. “Yes, Tho. Yes.” Lien stood to her feet and yelled at the top of her lungs, “Onward!” Minh and Nhan echoed the sentiment. The crowd of citizens joined in and a chorus of hopeful voices repeated the phrase. “Onward!”
The eighty-two turtles led the charge. They were not bound by typical methodical turtle movements. They moved freely, barely touching the ground, half-spirit, half-physical body, and they targeted the remaining machines around the edge of the lake. Each one shot a venom of fire from their mouths and devoured the machines one by one into piles of ash.
The rebel soldiers once again stormed out of the edge of the tunnel and ran along the western rim of the lake to clash with the Chinese conventional troops at the southern tip of the Old Quarter.
Nhan moved into position beside Lady Trieu. “I’ll fight Sun Quan with you.”
“I will too,” said Minh.
“No, this is my fight. And mine alone.” She pointed with her head to the long-tailed bird swooping down. Nhan leaped onto its back with ease and took off into the air. The turtle moved forward, Tho rubbing the tablets in his hands, as Lien and Minh escorted it on both sides as they made their way to the lake.
Chaos reigned. Blood from both sides poured into the streets. The first two turtle casualties appeared—floating, shell upside-down along the edge of the water. Dust from the machines filled the air like fog. Minh’s father and the contingent from the facility fought through the line of machines. Human bullets now decimated what they earlier couldn’t touch. This group quickly moved up the eastern shore of the lake and flanked the Chinese soldiers on the other side of the Old Quarter. Sirens sounded, every last Chinese soldier, every last machine, every last citizen of Hanoi squared off in the heart of their sacred land.
The giant turtle had made it across the street, but an armored vehicle cut it off from reaching the lake. Several shots ricocheted off the turtle’s shell, almost hitting Mr. Tho. Lien and Minh both had weapons now, and they hunkered down on each side of the turtle and fired toward the armored car.
“Do you need some help?” asked a voice from behind. It was Cuong, now once again the young warrior.
“Cuong?” asked Lien, looking back at the rebel holding a shoulder-mounted RPG. “Where did you come from?”
“Your husband sent me over here as backup. But I wouldn’t be here at all without your son.”
Cuong aimed the rocket propelled grenade resting on his shoulder and fired. The force of the blast knocked him backward a few feet. Lien had covered her ears as the whizzing sound of the projectile hit its target, and the armored vehicle exploded in pieces. All in the vicinity shielded themselves from the blast, except the turtle which continued walking directly toward the lake, down the slope and into the water’s edge. As soon as its legs had touched the water, the massive glowing tunnel fifty feet north crashed in. The water shook itself and the wave shifted the turtle up and down in a violent manner which made Tho lose his grip and fall into the water. The old man went under.
Minh yelled from the shore. “Mr. Tho!” He slid down the bank and jumped in headfirst. Lien and Cuong joined him. Minh surfaced with Tho’s arm flopped over his shoulder. Lien and Cuong helped pull the old man and his savior back to shore. Tho gasped once and looked out over the lake.
“The tablets. I lost them in the water.”
“I’ll go look for them,” said an eager Minh.
“No.” Everyone stopped and looked at the old man. “Leave them. It’s where they belong.”
“But Tho, you’ve had them all your life.”
“Yes. But maybe my time is up.”
The turtle made a great noise and submerged itself into the lake, causing one more great wave to sweep up over the shore and drench the four a final time. They helped Tho to his feet and surveyed the battlefield. The eighty-two turtles had neutralized the contingent of machines at the southern tip of the lake. The rebels, now led by Minh’s father, had blocked off the Chinese troops at the edge of the Old Quarter. Nhan rode on the back of the long-tailed bird and terrorized the troops with her death-defying attacks. She dive-bombed down on the trapped troops time and again. She wielded her sword and sliced through vehicles, ripped through arms and legs, and left a bloody trail after every swoop.
Minh, Tho, and Lien made their way to Commander Lieu. He still lay unconscious and Lien checked his pulse and looked around for anyway to treat him. “What can we do for him?” The tablets were gone, and the other beings didn’t seem to possess the magic to do anything to help him.
“Win the battle,” said Tho.
Trieu and Sun Quan floated over the city. They tumbled and wrestled without rigid form—two microcosms of thought, two destinies wrapped around each other. Sun Quan gripped her firmly and Trieu couldn’t wriggle away. Did she want to anyway? It seemed a silly question to her with all of history blaring in her face. The countless times the Hans had been repelled. This was more of the same. She had led the charge once herself when she was young and human—standing in the gap when no man of courage could muster the attack. She completed the task, sending Sun Quan’s lackeys limping into the mountains—away from their luscious fertile fields. She wasn’t the only one. There were many. The Trung sisters. Tran Hung Dao, the great hero who had repelled the Chinese more than once. Then the great warrior from the south, Quang Trung, who trudged north in the 18th century to repel them again. There were others, of course, under different circumstances. The ardent fighters who threw off the French, who confounded the Americans. All for what? A chance to live in peace and work the land and be a Vietnamese nation united. There was 1979—when the last generation witnessed the invaders once again. But now, today, it all seemed different. This battle didn’t rest in the hands of the humans; not really. It rested in the past and on the whims of magic which allowed it all to come to life—through no will of its own. This rough and tumble spiritual battle in the sky between Lady Trieu and Sun Quan had human origins. But did it need to have a human ending?
All of these thoughts and memories flowed through Trieu’s mind. Sun Quan had wanted her to join him. In what? For what purpose? Was she ready to just fall once more into the pit of the lake when she felt so alive in this moment? If he asked her again, how would she respond?
Her mind, distracted, allowed a moment of vulnerability. Sun Quan thrust his arm, still in semi-fluid form, through her. The walls of her sides collapsed and the pull of gravity weighed on her skin—her human skin. She fell from the sky looking upward at the floating ancient king above her, watching her descent. She landed back-first in the lake and plunged beneath the depths. She gasped for air but couldn’t breathe under the water this time. She felt her body hit a hard object, moving in the opposite direction, upward, toward the brightness of daylight above the surface. She emerged, her stomach half torn, but still alive in this realm. The turtle held her on its shell beside the curved red bridge leading to Ngoc Son Temple on a small islet in the lake. Sun Quan had descended and lorded over her from the red wooden bridge. She panted, still on her back, sprawled out across the shell, still unsure if she could move on her own.
“Your armies did well. They defeated Qiong Qi’s machines as I knew they would. They had no heart in this fight. Mindless worker ants from history was all they were. Cheap modern terracotta soldiers. And your rebel commanders have finally trapped the rest of the troops. But look at you. Was it worth it? You gave yourself to this cause for what? So I could disembowel your passion? So you could witness with your own eyes that they can’t defeat me? Once you’re gone, I will only be getting started.”
The turtle turned and gazed upon the broken warrior. Time bled her dry. She rested her head against the turtle’s shell.
“It didn’t have to be like this, you know. I asked you once and you rejected me. We were always meant for each other, but the thought frightened you. You think of loyalty and lineage as something to be treasured. Qiong Qi was right on that regard. You failed to see the possibilities, and you were too frightened to admit to yourself how similar we are. We have the same struggles. The same passions. The same foolish desires, but it’s always freedom you want. You will pay the price for your desire of freedom. It will suffocate you until you are free eternally, but not in this world.”
Trieu attempted to lift her head, but she laid it back flat and closed her eyes. They didn’t remain closed. She heard the bird. It soared at Sun Quan, Nhan still on its back, and she raised the sword over the wing of the lost bird and roared once. A battle cry. She sliced through the air at the head of the giant, but Sun Quan raised his mighty arm and deflected her attack with a great force. Nhan careened off the bird and rolled into a defeated ball at the edge of the shoreline. The bird, too, had fallen off course and pierced its side on a lamp post near the walk on the water’s edge. It whimpered alone in the sight of Nhan, who barely moved.
The fighting around the lake had all but stopped. The ultimate outcome would rest on the two warriors in the middle of the lake. Chinese troops watched on with the Vietnamese rebels in the same vicinity, weapons at their sides, gazing over the lake. The eighty-two turtles, now a few turtles short, huddled around Nhan. A few of them licked her wounds. Tho remained with the broken commander while Lien and Minh had moved northward a bit for a better view of the struggle unfolding at the center of the lake.
Lady Trieu rubbed her hand along the scutes of the great turtle’s shell. She felt its ruggedness, how it had survived in lore for centuries. Each layered groove in the scutes marked the time in its own way, and she wondered if it also marked the end of her time, of a new epic, one she couldn’t understand; one she didn’t want to understand. She turned her head and looked upon Sun Quan holding onto the railing of the curved bridge.
“Kill me if you must.” She struggled to regain her strength and propped herself up with her arms behind her. “Or should I say, you must kill me. If you don’t, I will fall into this lake only to rise again. And again. And again.” She now sat up fully, arms at her side. Her neck was partially ripped out from the Chinese man’s last effort to kill her. Her stomach sat hollow from Sun Quan’s wound. But she ignored the eternal yearnings within her, the history she couldn’t control. Her only thoughts gravitated toward the boy Minh, who had fought his way back into and out of the Facility, and the girl Nhan, who had thrown herself willingly into the river. Each generation brands its own heroes and fights its own battles for freedom to persist. If she would fail, she would do so facing her foe and throwing a final punch. “I say it again, Sun Quan. You will have to kill me.”
“Very well,” he nodded. He raised his sword over his head, and with one giant leap, landed on the front of the turtle, towering over the seated Lady Trieu. The force of the landing shook the entire reptile. Trieu lost her grip and her hands slid down the side of the turtle’s shell, when she felt something smooth, unlike the texture of the other scutes. She glanced over the curved body of the shell and saw them. All four. Each of the smooth black marble tablets had embedded themselves into the turtle’s shell. She rubbed her hand across all four and felt a rush of energy through her. Sun Quan’s sword descended at her. Lady Trieu shifted to the right and the tip of the sword pierced the outer portion of the turtle’s shell, but as soon as it did so, the turtle turned spirit and descended formless into the black void of the water. Trieu and Sun Quan likewise crashed through the surface. Trieu grabbed his arms and tried to pin him down, but his strength tore himself from her, and he reached for the sword he had lost. Lady Trieu turned toward the bridge and shot out of the water with great force. She clung onto the side of the bridge and flipped herself over the railing. One of the Van Mieu turtles approached her from the shore with Nhan’s sword on its back. “This is from the girl,” it stated. She clasped it in her hands and twirled to face Sun Quan, who had repositioned himself, armed and dangerous, on the islet side of the bridge.
“Ba Trieu,” he said. “I had hoped you wouldn’t make it too easy. You have many supporters, who have helped you. But no matter. None of it will be of consequence in a moment.”
“And what of your supporters? You also didn’t arrive here by yourself, and it would not have been possible for Qiong Qi to bring you back without human help.”
Sun Quan shook his head. “Indeed.”
“Where is your master?” she asked.
“Maybe we’ll meet him in the pit of hell.”
He rushed her, and the tip of his sword whizzed by her ear. She clanked it away with a side swipe of her own. The ancient chimes of history sounded with every clambering hit of ancient forged metal against metal.
Attack. Repel. Lady Trieu backed Sun Quan onto the small island holding the famed Ngoc Son Temple. The place where Mrs. Tuyet had prayed for a miracle and fallen down dead just twelve hours earlier after placing her incense sticks on the alter. Now they battled for the outcome of the incense whisking into the air through the tips of both of their swords.
Sun Quan tripped over the step into the temple, and she caught him once in the throat with the tip of her sword. But his long arms held off the final thrust, and pushed her aside. He stormed into the temple and swiped all the statues off the altar. A Buddha fell onto the floor, hitting the corpse of Mrs. Tuyet, which still laid undisturbed. Sun Quan continued ransacking the place. A Confucian king landed on top of a burning candle. The tapestry, depicting a colorful long-tailed lost bird, fell to the ground and caught on fire. The flames erupted through the wooden structure as the duel intensified around it. Smoke rose off the small island, but no one from shore moved to help as the trees shielded their prying eyes from what happened. They had nothing to watch but the lazy smoke wafting into the evening air.
Toss. Jab. Thrust. Tear. They grunted through the smoke and singed their wills on the edge of the flames. Each one staggered under their own wounds.
Lady Trieu had struck him twice with her sword. He retaliated in kind, but neither gave ground. Sun Quan came at her shoulder first and threw her against a Confucian altar, defacing it with her entire body. She picked up the statuette of Prosperity and hurled it at his head. It slammed him backwards as he grabbed his face with his left hand, still clutching the sword in the right. The flames had reached the roof and threatened to release their fury on both of their heads.
“I’ll leave nothing behind,” shouted Sun Quan, finishing the destruction of the temple with a series of vicious spin moves which even split a round pillar holding the structure in place. The roof shook and collapsed. Lady Trieu surged forward and pushed Sun Quan into the side vestibule. Walls on both sides of them were torched with fire. Trieu laid on top of him. Her overgrown breasts pushed against his chest and their eyes locked.
“You’re stronger than I thought,” he said.
“But I can’t defeat you. Not on my own.”
“Will we let the temple finish the deed?” he replied.
A part of the charred wall broke off and crashed behind them. Sun Quan grabbed her sides, and she his. He pushed her into the fire and the flames lit the back of her garment. She rose in great pain and ran down the corridor out of the back of the temple, at the same place Tho, Lien, and Minh had once taken a boat out to meet the great turtle. Sun Quan followed her and tackled her to the ground. The fire engulfed them both, but they wrestled. Arms interlocked. Grips fierce. Pain in their eyes. In a ball of fire, they rolled off the edge of the bank. This was the same bank which once heard the prayer of Mrs. Tuyet asking for a miracle. As they plunged into the water, eyes closed, the lingering prayer of decades swirled in their midst.
The water counteracted the fire, but Sun Quan had the favored position on top with Trieu underneath. Only her face, breasts, and toes stuck out of the water.
“Release us,” she said.
“It’s impossible for me to be submerged in the water,” said Sun Quan. “But you’ll drown for eternity here, never to be released again.”
“I wasn’t talking to you,” snapped Lady Trieu, as she repeated, “Release us!”
The water formed into a glowing hole beneath her body with only a thin layer of water keeping them afloat.
“Take us both,” she said.
“No!” yelled Sun Quan.
The water parted and the hole opened up beneath them. The force pulled them in like a wind tunnel, and above the surface of the water, a great spout whirled into the air as the two warriors were sucked into the belly of the lake.