The Avatars of Qi

In the dark period before beginnings, the island of Ryukyu was gripped by fear, tumult, and despair. Few memories remain of that time, save that the land cried out for deliverance.

But dark times bring heroes, and chaos is often burned away by courage. The shadow paintings say that the Iron Blades arose—five samurai warriors bound by a strict code of discipline and honor. The Iron Blades fought with unmatched skill, overthrowing the evil that oppressed the people and restoring Emperor Jian to the throne.

As peace came, in order to build a people’s Ryukyu from the ashes of war, Emperor Jian turned to the Iron Blades once more. His heroic band would rebuild and govern the land.

But as the Iron Blades prepared to march forth, the emperor’s most trusted advisor, the wise Minister Li, made a plea.

“Your Majesty,” Minister Li began, “we are a people without a past. Let us send with each samurai an Avatar of Qi—one who understands the flow of life, the balance of nature, and the wisdom of the Tao and Confucius. Let the Avatars observe and learn the lessons so we may never again forget.”

There were five Avatars of Qi. Each was a mystical sage, known for their deep understanding of the Tao, Confucian teachings, and the natural order. Jian agreed, but one of the warriors remarked with a wry smile to the others, “Let the silent ones come. Perhaps they will learn the true code of the warrior.”

The Iron Blades set out to create order with the same discipline and strength that had won them the war. They enforced laws, built fortresses, and the island was secure. From the Emperor's palace, large bonfires could be seen all across the island to mark the new age—the immense fires a glorious gift from the proud warriors to the emperor and his subjects.

But as the years passed, the emperor grew troubled. Ryukyu’s bonfires threw reflections on the palace walls, and in Jian’s dreams, the shadows came, awakening his fear of a return to the past. More and more villagers traveled by foot to the palace to petition Jian, with one saying, “Your Majesty, we, the people, are growing weary. We beg you to find a way to restore the light to our villages.” Offended, Jian sent them away, reminding the simple villagers that the bonfires had created more light than ever before.

As this humble villager passed out the gates, Master Li approached the insulted emperor with the words of Confucius: “When we see men of a contrary character, we should turn inwards and examine ourselves.”

“But, Minister,” the emperor responded, “do the people not see we have laws, safety, rules, and freedom from the past? I, Jian, brought this to the villagers.”

“Master, we must learn to close one door so that another may open, allowing the natural flow of life to bring about true prosperity. The Iron Blades have brought order, but their ways are rooted in the discipline of war, not the wisdom of growth. Confucius reminds us that ‘The strength of a nation derives from the integrity of the home.’ The village leaders, who should be the stewards of their home communities, have been reduced. The people see no real light, just shadows and old fears.”

The words of his minister awoke in Jian the lessons of his tutoring in the ancient texts. He asked Li, "What does the Tao Te Ching mean by: 'The softest things in the world overcome the hardest things in the world?'"

Li responded: “Where there is no conflict, there is no fault. A warrior, our samurai, embodies conflict. Their honor and skill find their enemies' faults. They exploit this fault and win a great victory. But there is no victory in our home. In a war waged against ourselves, do we seek to fault our own family?”

Awakened, the emperor exclaimed: “Yes! I hear in the villages the sound of sharpening and making metal swords. But hammering an edge to sharpness will not make it last. The Iron Blades must reflect on their methods and embrace the wisdom of the Avatars.”

The emperor, began seeing the truth in the oldwords, and said, “Let us embrace this wisdom. In thy light, I see light,” and asked the Avatars of Qi to guide the next phase of the island’s rebirth. “You can suggest and assist, but not command.”

Each Avatar encouraged the village leaders to reclaim their voice, to speak and even to sing, and to always ensure their words, letters, and songs reached the emperor. The Avatars taught them the principles of the Tao, emphasizing harmony, balance, and continuous improvement.

“A leader is best when people barely know the leader's hand exists; when the work is done, the aim fulfilled, they will say: we did it ourselves.” The leaders began to make decisions that reflected the unique needs of their communities, fostering a sense of ownership and pride among the people.

“The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.” Slowly, prosperity began to return to the land as the leaders focused on gradual improvements.

The emperor was amazed that even the proud samurai listened when the Avatars reminded them, “The usefulness of a pot comes from its emptiness.” The warriors began to understand the importance of creating space for growth and creativity, allowing their communities to flourish naturally.

At the end of this transformative period, Emperor Jian saw that the island had moved from control to harmony. His greatest battle was to choose when to fight, and when to strive and guide. The village leaders, once stifled, had grown into capable stewards of their communities, connected directly to the emperor’s vision.

The emperor quoted the Tao: “The highest good is like water. Water gives life to the ten thousand things and does not strive.”

Some say the villagers forgot the name of the emperor and would refer to Jian as Umi, or ocean. Years later, tales came of how Umi would visit villages, unannounced, quietly like a stream. Umi was humble, they said; like water, he flows downward, asking for nothing and resisting nothing.

One day, as he walked by an Avatar of Qi talking to students, the emperor heard his favorite passage from the Tao Te Ching:

So, the sage acts by doing nothing, Teaches without speaking, Attends all things without making claim on them, Works for them without making them dependent, Demands no honor for his deed. Because he demands no honor, He will never be dishonored