‘Liao has always stood sentinel over the Amber Sea. So long as I live, I will stand sentinel over this clan.’


    —Lord Liao Weilong addressing his clan.


    Amidst a degree of devastation and ruin that would go down in legend, the Liao Clan mountain had endured though not without harm. The people who had known Liao Hua’s father as their lord and protector were suffering in the city behind her, their homes burnt or burning, their loved ones drowned or drowning, and their hopes dead or dying.


    Had you asked Liao Hua even hours before the devastation how the mortals would behave, she could not have comprehended the sheer frustrating idiocy they displayed. One and all, they seemed eager to enter their names in the Book of the Dead. Hua had aided quite a view. But some she had been forced to leave alive and those were the ones who stoked her fury the most. The Sealord who thought to move her as a piece on the weiqi board, Lady Song who thought she cared for her nonsensical romance but her intended lover was a useful weapon against the Sealord, and that fool Blue Hand who could have infected her with his idiocy if she came into contact with his blood.


    But there had been some positives to her trip. She had come out of it with a new servant, one who was irrepressible in his desire to keep other mortals away from Hua, and for that, she would reward him greatly. Possibly with some of the twenty thousand silver taels she had claimed from Zhang Pi as payment for allowing him to continue breathing though half came from the Sealord she had threatened into compliance. And beautiful glass tumblers. Those were the most important parts of the trip.


    Her tribute, payment, or bribe depending on your stance, was being carried by a team of porters donated by Zhan Pi. They wore the expressions of men who were getting paid twice their yearly salary so long as they survived walking into the leopard’s den that was Hua’s home.


    Not that they’d ever truly enter it. They had yet to cross the bounds of the wards as they ascended the stairs at the base of the hill, those still within the outermost walls that stood taller than two men could reach standing.


    To the west, part of the hill had been cracked open like an egg. Ancient rock sheared by the splitting of the earth. In the process, the old water reservoir had shattered, and from it, a lake’s worth of water had descended, filling up the valley where the clan graves had been and then overflowing to the city below. In part, it stopped the spread of a great fire. Flooding had saved many lives, an idea comical to Hua if she had not seen it herself.


    The lake it had formed was atop the valley holding the clan graves. Their dead swept away with the waves. Tombstones shattered and shrines broken. Most of all, her mother’s bones would be lost to the waves.


    Hua’s memories of her mother were scattered, fragmentary things. The funeral was prominent in her mind. A wave of white-robed figures.


    It was spring, she recalled of that day, walking through the forest with her brother after the funeral. Gentle sunlight filtering through the trees, offering kindness if not respect for the grief she had felt clawing down her throat and chest.


    The only person she had at the time was her brother who had stayed by her in those last days. It was he who dressed Hua in white robes and led her through the burial ceremony. She had felt so tall as they walked through the forest after the sombre ceremony, Hua carried upon her brother’s shoulders. Hua was taller now than she was then, on her brother’s shoulders, but she’d never felt so secure as in that moment. From that height, Hua had spotted a curious spotted thing amongst the leaves and urged her brother toward it. It had been an egg, but of no bird Hua could name. But there, on a branch nearby, had been a nest that shivered in the breeze. It was angled over the edge and other eggs could have fallen out of the nest.


    Brother Weijiang had helped her climb the tree. Within the nest, there were three other eggs. Me and Brother and Sister and Sister, she recalled thinking as she had put the discarded egg with its brethren. Four eggs for four siblings.


    Together, they put the nest back to rights with whatever sticks, leaves, and the torn fabric from their white sashes. And after, they found a pond they thought a secret and played till they were soaked through to the bone.


    It was the fondest memory she had of him. Had time been kinder, circumstances different, they may have made other pleasant memories. Back when she could look at him without resentment and he without… well, Hua had never understood the expression he made when they trained together. She still didn’t.


    Now she did not know if her brother was dead, and if he lived how, long it would take him to return. The opportunity to forge a different relationship had slipped out of her hands as easily as water slipped through the gaps of her childish fingers. If you tried to hold that opportunity forever, the sun would evaporate what you held, and the wind would wick away one drop after another until your hands were dry and only the memory of water remained. Even that would fade as time wore down upon imperfect, human remembrance.


    The white cloak she’d worn that day, a small thing embossed with silvery kingfishers, had survived their rough play. It had remained with her for years as a memento until another cousin needed it more. It had not been a matter of letting go but someone she knew and cared for needed it more. That would have to be enough.


    She paused, staring out at the lake. There were shimmers of light bobbing across the surface of the lake. They watched her as she watched them. And though that light carried no colour, she knew that many would have hair the same colour as moonlight. Her ancestors, her relatives, those who came could not overcome the passing of centuries. Restless now that their tombs had been drowned.


    Maybe even her mother. It had been spring when she died and now it was autumn with Hua as an adult. Childhood was ending and it could not be reclaimed. But, she could choose what to do in this new phase of her life.


    Liao Hua slammed her fist in her palm. Then she bowed to her ancestors.


    “This Liao Hua will see that you are honoured,” she promised for she was a daughter of Liao and nothing else could be accepted. “I will make sure that you rest again. So please, be a bit patient and forgive me for my tardiness.”


    “Young Mistress, who are you speaking to?” Liu Xin asked uncertainly. He was looking about, trying to find what drew Hua’s promise.


    “Do you truly not see them?”


    Liu Xin shook his head.


    Was it because he lacked lightning in his veins or was Hua the one who had changed? Had heaven’s retribution so thoroughly altered her that she could see things no one else even knew existed. The Great Net of Heaven had enveloped the sky for days and not a single person had observed it. If it was Hua who had changed, then she would turn it into an advantage for her clan.


    She nodded and set off without another word. The official entrance of the clan grounds was approaching. Stone pillars held up a ponderously heavy arch with a red roof. Behind it, taking up space on either side of the stairs and connected by a skyway, was a garrison. Manning it, and guarding the gate, were Clan soldiers from the vassal houses. Unless the Patriarch ordered their retreat, those on duty would not leave their station. Fire, flood, a hundred ghosts slaughtering the Clan, all could run rampant so long as they did not approach the Entrance Gate.


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    The four who stood watch at the gate stamped their spears in unison at her approach, challenging her entrance. She knew their faces but could not recall ever hearing their names. They were mortals but they knew their place and served loyally.


    She gestured subtly to Liu Xin, curious. How much was he willing to claim? How far was he willing to go? Against vagrants and nobodies, it was one thing to walk beside her. Against soldiers in gleaming armour and steel-headed spears, how would he behave?


    Once more, Liu Xin proved himself. Approaching with the confidence of a man who had been saved from death and acknowledged by a Cultivator of great standing, one who skirted the sword edge of insult and bravery to achieve his goals.”


    “Announcing the Young Mistress of the Liao Clan, the honoured Thunder Palm, her attendant Liu Xin, and twenty thousand silver taels under her ownership.”


    Hua did not find her small technique to be so great to be honoured. Other relatives could break boulders just as easily as she could, and they didn’t need to resort to a technique to do it. Much as she loved the sword and the feel of bones snapping beneath her fist, hers was a more spiritual cultivation.


    The four stamped their spears in unison once more, accepting the challenge.


    “Young Mistress, be welcome,” said the senior of the soldiers. “We will handle the matter of your silver.”


    They would call some attendants to deal with it instead of risking the unknown porters the opportunity to ascend the mountains and witness the secrets that protected their clan.


    “You have my thanks for guarding the Clan in my absence. I commend your efforts. Split one-tenth the silver amongst all soldiers who guarded the clan these past few days.”


    Shock rippled amongst the normally stoic guards. Two thousand silver taels was an amount with no true meaning to Hua. It was a fifth that Zhang Pi thought his life was worth. There was little Hua needed that the clan didn’t provide and her future needs could likely be covered by eighteen thousand silver taels.


    “Young Mistress—”


    “I will not be questioned on this.” She read his brass rankplate that bore his name. “Loyalty must be rewarded, Captain Yao. That is my final say on the matter.”


    Hua strode past them, not so much as slowing. Offering no chance to argue. As she crossed past the Entrance Gate, the difference was undeniable. She was struck by air so clean, so fresh, it felt like an illusion. Hua inhaled once, then twice, feeling the welcome of the formations that enveloped the Clan grounds. This was the safety she had imagined she could find with Qing. A hopeful thing torn away by cruel gods who did not know the cost of their actions. But they would, one day. It would be many mortal lifetimes yet, but Hua would have her revenge.


    Maybe if they had given to her Qing, let her bury her beneath the tall trees of the mountain, there could be peace between them. Maybe she could learn to swallow her hate and move on. But to take even her corpse? That could not be borne.


    “It’s like your lands were untouched by the damage,” Liu Xin said in awe, looking at the forest of healthy pines and cypresses. He looked back over his shoulder where the city unashamedly revealed its ruin, showing off burn scars and pockmarked skin like it was a slave born into the fighting pits. It would be years, maybe decades before the wounds healed.


    “Truly, you are blessed.”


    Liu Xin did not know the signs of her clan grounds under a normal autumn. Missing were the lanterns strung on threads between the trees, so many colours illuminating the paths and gardens, tinting silver hair to orange and red and purple and green. Dozens of voices coming from all directions, reciting poetry, sharing gossip, cursing each other out. No notes of the flute or the zither were carried by the breeze, finding you in such odd places that you could spend hours searching for the source and never find it. The grounds were empty of servants tending to gardens, sweeping the now-cracked stairway clear of leaves.


    She should be able to hear cousins sparring, lightning crackling and thunder snapping. The whistle of swords through the air and the thwack of staff against staff. Where were the tutors wrangling rambunctious children?


    So much was missing and he could not know how it pained her to hear that emptiness.


    Would anyone in the Liao Clan even be able to hold their head high after this travesty? If they failed to rebuild, then a century from now, they would be huddled in the dark, hunted by greater power, whispering of a time when they were worthy. If they failed.


    Hua would not allow them to fail.


    “Come, there is something you must see to understand me, to understand Liao.”


    The path they took wound them eastward, into the depths of the forest. It was so quiet. Even the birds had chosen silence today. Animals were smart like that. They could sense danger and knew when to flee. Mortals could learn from them.


    It was one of the tallest trees on the mountain, wider than entire buildings. A towering thing that could have provided enough wood for dozens of homes. Maybe even a grand ship. The space around it was made to appear untended. Long grass that reached her knees. Growing in carefully curated patterns were wildflowers that in deep winter would bloom a bright blue. For now, the meadow was a sunburnt orange.


    She gestured Liu Xin forward. He craned his head up and up with each step he took, awed to witness an example of nature that had endured like nothing humanity had ever built. He placed his hand upon the great trunk and spread his fingers wide. He could not feel the natural Qi the tree held. Maybe some great Alchemist could refine it into a pill of immense power but that would only happen once the Liao Clan had been slaughtered to the last.


    “This tree was planted by my ancestor two millennia ago. If you climb high enough and look through the branches carefully enough, you can find his sword. I don’t think he expected how great a single seed would grow. He couldn’t have known that millennia later, his descendants would climb that tree and try to reach the sword he left behind. It’s rusted now. This might be the last generation to ever see it. And still, I believe my grandchildren’s grandchildren will climb up this tree and find it for themselves.”


    She placed her hand over Liu Xin’s and fit her pale fingers in the gaps between his rough ones. A spark of lighting arced between her middle finger and her index. Liu Xin flinched, but Hua did not let him escape as she called forth greater lightning.


    Enough lightning to stop a heart. With a quick split and rejoining, Hua could shatter this tree that symbolised the enduring nature of the Liao Clan. Liu Xin knew this. He had seen the violence she could enact with a thought.


    And not one spark of lightning would harm him unless Hua wished it.


    “This is why we are blessed, Liu Xin. Not some distant miracle from false gods on high but the simple work of nurturing something worthy. We did that difficult work each generation and made something greater than mortal hands could conceive. A thing born of blood and lightning. Because everyone believed in the vision that one day, the name Liao would be a great one, and it is. Maybe we do not yet rule an empire, but the greatest empire upon this continent knows our name. When my father passes, he will be known as a Matryr of the Empire. To us, he will be the Patriarch who showed the greatness we already possessed.”


    Finally, she let lightning fade away before she drew up her vital energy. She held so little Qi in her veins right now that in many ways, she was only slightly greater than a mortal.


    “We are great, Liu Xin, because we chose to live by lightning and we have not forgotten who we once were.”


    “I’ve heard many nobles cite their descent from the Yellow Emperor as the reason for their rule. You disdain the very idea of anything but Liao being important. I find you to be a strange, Young Mistress, but I find you interesting as well.”


    Hua smiled. So few spoke bluntly to her and managed to avoid irritating her. He deserved a reward—oh, I still haven’t paid him.


    “One-twentieth.”


    “My Lady?” he asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. They were grey, she noted. Grey eyes and a subtly red sheen to his wavy hair.


    “I realise I don’t pay you and I haven’t paid you yet. So, one part in twenty of what I just acquired should serve you well.”


    Liu Xin stopped. Hua stopped as well, turning to see him pale. Blood was leaking down his lip. He swallowed and took a deep breath.


    “Young Mistress, I could not in good conscience accept that. That is far too much money to pay a man you hardly know for three days of work.”


    “You underestimate how much time and energy dealing with mortals you saved me.”


    “Either way, I refuse. The Magistrate doesn’t make so much for his yearly salary. You cannot pay me a thousand silver taels for—I hesitate to call it busy work, but it certainly wasn’t the work of a thousand taels.”


    “You’ve been more useful to me than he’s ever managed.”


    “One part in a hundred. I can countenance a hundredth.”


    “Hm, I think not. I’ll tell the clan accountants what you’re getting.” She grinned. “One day, you’ll learn how useless arguing with me is.”


    “Only because the Young Mistress doesn’t believe in reason and good sense,” he said despairingly.


    That was a familiar expression. Liu Xin would fit right in with their clan. Though why so many wore that expression when Hua approached was a mystery. Even paying a person could cause despair.