A Love Worthy of Rings [Xu Wenwu x Reader]

Chapter One

"The Legend of the Ten Rings has been passed down for a millennia. It grows, and grows with each generation. But in its center, there is always

                                                                                                                               a man."

"No one knows where they came from, or how he obtained them." 

                                                                     "It is said that he found it in a crater."

"Or stole them from the tomb of a king." 

"What is known is that they gave him the strength of a god, and the gift of eternal life. He could have used them to do good... but he only wanted power."

"It wasn't long until he had conquered the world, and his reach extended. He created an army of

 his own, naming them after his great gift, 'The Ten Rings'. Over the centuries they advanced

 through the shadows and changed the course of history in a way the pages had never been stained before." 

                                                                                                 "I was never afraid of him."

                        "But that was before 

                                                                he

                                                                     attacked

                                                                                  my home."

"We were a village near the water. Water so blue you would think it was a dream. Growing and

 selling spices was what the world knew us for, but those who looked deeper would find a

 history rich with roots deep. Our God, Kartikeya, taught us what he would hope we would never

 had to use. Kalari, a form of fighting that focused on the mind and body, as one cannot excel

 without the other. 

It allowed those who gave their life to it to channel a power that could shake the world.

And where there is great power, there is a beacon for those with greed in their hearts." 

---

1996

(Y/n) sat on the sandy beach the bled into her home, watching the males in the village train. Kalari, though beautiful, was unpractical. War had, thankfully, never found its way into her home, and if it did, she doubted the men would resort to hand-to-hand. 

She held her tongue. While she liked to talk big, it was only because of the venom in her body. Girls were forbidden to learn Kalari. Try as she might, not a single soul would share a whisper of information regarding technique to her. Her father being the village priest may or may not have had to do with that.