Hua could not visit the Patriarch in foreign clothes given to her by another. Even if it wasn’t disrespectful, she wanted to be in things she owned and knew well. Clothes she could take comfort in and be recognised by.


    Servants had already filled a bath for her. She made quick work of it, washing away the accumulated grime. Scrubbing off the soot and filth and blood and sticky feel of mortals. The city clinging to her, following her all the way home, whilst Qing had been brushed away so easily. That which was unimportant stayed, but the true world could disappear.


    A servant had left a tray of food in her sitting room. The Patriarch’s estate was large enough to hold many suites of rooms and Hua had not considered it strange to have so large a space to herself until she met the mortals in the lower city and realised entire families could live in a single room. Another reason she couldn’t relate to them. Being willing to live in such cramped conditions spoke to the poor character of most mortals. The food tasted of nothing. She felt sorry for the chefs who made do in the chaos to bring her hot congee sprinkled with green onions, pork floss and duck egg. She felt the crunch of the fried chicken cutlets, the oil upon them, but did not taste the spices. Even the fresh fruit arranged in a neat arrangement was consumed without much thought for the taste. The chefs deserved better for their diligence in making an excellent meal at such short notice.


    Even the usually horrible Qi pill went down easily. Hua breathed in the Qi it released, purifying it, and allowing it to replenish some of her exhausted stores.


    She cast her senses out, feeling a dearth of Qi signatures in her home. Just Hua and the bright shimmer of the formations draped over the home. Hua had never seen them before, but her golden eyes saw more than should have been possible. Powerful protections for a home that was hardly used.


    The Patriarch had not resided in his estate for months. Hua had not expected to sense him, but she had hoped to speak to her sisters. She knew where to find them and it was with her father.


    The journey to the temple was a walk that had once calmed her but now filled her with unease. The steps were disconcertingly familiar, such that she needn’t pay attention to where she was going, but Hua could not help but note how different it felt. The pervasive yellowness of the sky tinting everything. A strengthening of the ambient Qi she felt with each step. The sheer silence in the trees and bushes, all the small critters too afraid to leave. Not even the song of birds. If not for the growing strength of the formations, Hua might have thought herself lost.


    Despite recognising her, and allowing her to approach the old temple, the formations still left her jaw aching even if they recognised her.


    Built partly into the hill, there was only one way to reach the temple even if the wards would have permitted one to scale the increasingly sheer ascent. Wooden doors carved with depictions of the Thunder Agency gleaned from the Scripture the Liao Clan held barred the way. Hua pushed them forward and they rotated silently on their hinges.


    Dry air like old leather hit her instantly. The formations pulsed with her entrance, lighting up the floor. The lights run up the walls and along the beams holding up the roof, before coming to light up the lanterns in a soft white light. Access was granted without issue.


    Two doors split off from this central area where the formations were so thick as to be a syrup in her vision. Past the great brass doors, was the prayer room that held the Scripture of Five Thunders. The other led to her father, the Liao Patriarch.


    But before them both, she found a sight that filled her with an uncomplicated joy: her sister Meilng.


    She had an expression of wariness, eyeing the doors as they opened, blinking quickly from the sudden influx of light from the formations and the sun. They looked nearly identical but that was the case with most people closely related to the main house. The same sharp features that imparted a resting solemnity. The same silver hair and what should have been the same green eyes. When they were excited, those green eyes were like diamonds glittering under sunlight. Bright and sharp, almost painful to look at if you didn’t know where to look. Like now, Meiling’s expression morphing upon seeing her sister.


    “Hua!”


    The weight of her younger sister slammed into her. She bore it easily, gladly. Hua drew her younger sister close and held her tight, breathing in the clean scent of ozone from her. She basked in the warmth of holding family close. This certainty is why Hua worked towards the ends she did. The compromises, the deals with mortals who’d die if she ever bothered, and the loss of face with many of them. It was worth it to know her sister was safe and sound.


    If she could not save Qing, she would ensure a future for her family.


    “Meiling, I missed you.”


    “I know you did. I missed you too. You were supposed to visit us when you got back but you didn’t. And then you were gone to the city and didn’t come back for a long while. No one could tell me anything until Cousin Ji came back. Never go away like that again.”


    “I’m sorry. I thought there was time and that nothing like this would happen. And then the mortals. Meiling, the mortals were being so foolish. But enough about them. I don’t want to think about them again. Song? Is she—”


    “Sleeping at Aunty Qiang’s house. Just tired, nothing else. We’ve been swapping shifts.”


    She exhaled a shuddering breath. Her sisters were safe. Alive. Had been the entire time under the protection of Elder Qiang. Even knowing they were behind the wards, that Grandmother and the rest of her family would protect the twins, nothing could match the sheer relief of hearing it from Meiling.


    “And you didn’t get hurt? No trouble?”


    “Besides Elder Shenhou trying to get past Song two nights ago when things were still bad, nothing. But she held him off long enough for Grandmother to come back and throw him out.”


    Hua’s grip tightened as she felt a surge of fury run through. It took everything she had not to call upon her Qi and summon lightning to enshroud them. Hua would kill anyone who harmed her sisters. Anyone who did was eager to die. Even if it was the Emperor, she’d rip his throat out with her teeth and keep killing her way until she was satisfied.


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    “He hurt Song?” she asked slowly, sounding out the words.


    “Hua, calm down before you do something stupid. None of the Elders are crazy enough to make you that mad. They know you’d probably unhinge your jaw and swallow the sun whole. Please don’t start a civil war over this.”


    There was iron on her tongue. She’d bitten through her tongue. Blood pooled between her teeth and cheek. She swallowed it down and took a deep breath.


    “I’m proud of her. Of you. Standing your ground against any of the elders, let alone those from the Shen Generation, is a difficult thing.”


    After a final squeeze, she relaxed her arms to allow Meiling to escape. Her sister just stayed there, chin hooked over Hua’s shoulder. A huff ghosted across Hua’s nape.


    “You make it look easy to be strong,” Meiling muttered. “Always have.”


    Her sister stepped back and Hua rose to her full height. Meiling barely came up to her shoulder. Maybe in a few more years and she’d come into her full height. Even so, she was taller than any out-clan girl of the same age.


    Meiling’s features slackened as she got a good look at Hua.


    “Hua, your eyes are—why are they gold like that?”


    “Got struck by lightning. Don’t make a big deal about it.”


    “Hua don’t just say that! What do you mean lightning struck you? Those big ones we could feel from here? One of those hit you?”


    “You could feel that?”


    That meant she had sensed Qi. Her sisters were behind in their development. Sensing any amount of Qi at all was worthy of celebration.


    “Hua, don’t get distracted. Focus. Lightning. Explain.”


    Explaining would mean talking about Qing. Hua wasn’t ready to do that. Might never be.


    Instead, she sent Meiling a confident smile and reached out to pat her head. “It was just a bit of lightning, nothing special. You’d have just shrugged it off like the smart girl you are.”


    Meiling squirmed out of reach, crossing her arms. “You’re lying about something.”


    “Well, maybe about you being smart.”


    “Hua!”


    “I’m joking, I’m joking. Promise. Now, how is father?”


    “He asked about Brother Jiang again,” her sister said, curling her lips in annoyance. “It’s the only thing he asks about. Don’t think I’ve ever heard him mention you and we both know he’s never remembered my name.”


    “Meiling, you should learn to be kind. Father is… you know he is unwell. He misses our brother, that’s all. We all miss him.”


    “I don’t. Him being gone is the best that’s happened in months.”


    “No, it’s not and you know it. He’s the one who always sneaks you extra desserts and takes you to the city when I’m busy. Who taught you to always be so uncharitable?”


    “You did.”


    “Stubborn. Always stubbornness with you.”


    “Learned it watching you,” Meiling said spitefully.


    “Nightmare child. Let me go see Father. He might have some wisdom for us now.”


    “It won’t make a difference if it’s you. But fine, go ahead and waste your time.”


    Her sister was young yet. She was allowed a bit of spite. And who would tell her no?


    Hua clapped her on the shoulder and headed into the deepest sanctum of the Liao Clan, where the wards were potent and the Qi buzzing. Here, within the mountain they called home, the Patriarch could meditate without interruption.


    Hua interrupted anyway. She knew he would not be cultivating.


    Closed Door Cultivation. That was the story. No one would believe it had they seen the sorry state of her father.


    Hua’s memories of her father were of a man built tall and solid whose presence filled any room he entered. His gravitas made one stand taller, head held high, because so long as the oncoming storm of his power stood beside you, nothing at all could bring you harm.


    That was not the man she saw lying in bed. His silver hair spread out like a cloak carried none of the lustre that she remembered. It was brittle and more chalk white than the colour of quicksilver. It suited a man with deep wrinkles and frown lines, whose eyes had sunken into his skull. Skin pulled so tight you could almost see the bumps and grooves of his bones.


    She knelt at the bedside of the man who rose to the highest step of the Foundation to heaven and was now little more than a shadow of himself. Her father. The Liao Patriarch. The hero, the legend, and the soon-to-be martyr.


    “Father, can you hear me?”


    His watery eyes cracked open. They were a shade of green too pale to be healthy. Milky droplets occluded the clear brightness she remembered.


    “Weijiang, is that you? Have you brought my pills?”


    Liao Hua took her father’s hand. It was like holding scrunched-up paper, cold to the touch. A graveyard hand. “It is I, father, Liao Hua. You daughter.


    “A better son would not have taken so long,” he muttered. He wasn’t seeing Hua. Not truly. “You took long.”


    What must I do for you to see me? Am I not your child as well? Am I undeserving of your attention? I do not expect love or care, but I was born of your lightning.


    “The city is in danger,” she said, hoping he heard her and not his delusion. “The heavens have betrayed us and struck us down for no sin we can name. The city has burned and flooded. Our own lightning started the first fires and the river we are named after flooded the city we protect. I have watched chaos descend upon the land as mortals fight over matters unimportant. We need you, Father. We need your strength.”


    “Don’t trust your grandmother. She acts for herself only. Do you hear me, Weijiang? Don’t trust that monster.”


    “Father—”


    “She’ll do anything for power. Don’t trust her.”


    Hua sighed. “I hear you, father. I will always hear you.”


    Her family had only recently considered commissioning his coffin, she and Brother and Grandmother. There had been hope that this Qi Deviation would not be fatal. Hua still held out hope that her brother would appear from the mists with the life-saving medicine of the Zhao Clan. It was unthinkable to find outside help like this, but it was necessary. And so Brother made the journey to hostile territory, carrying gold and artefacts, all in the hopes of finding something to heal their father.


    That was duty. That was what a good son was meant to do. And now, he might be dead crossing the mountain passes. You live, Brother, I know you do. I believe it. You’ll come back to us and take your place as heir once more.


    One day, her brother would be the next Lord Liao, and that role would be a difficult one to fulfil. Her father was a legend and a hero. His name was known from the Amber Sea to the Dragon Throne, across a continent that took months to navigate and possibly beyond. So few had ever established the Foundation to Heaven and the number that had risen to its peak could be counted on one hand. It wasn’t arrogance for Father to believe he was the one chosen to ascend Mt. Tai and see its summit; it was simply expected for him to join their forebearers from the Age of Heroes.


    He’d gone into Closed Cultivation after buying a pile of pills with half the clan’s treasury and for a while, it had seemed possible he could do it. For a while. The Deviation had arrived so suddenly that they could barely react, the direction of his Qi inverting, Meridians bursting open in ways they should never. Even beyond the sealed doors, Hua felt the wrongness.


    She was useless in stitching those dying spiritual channels. Weijiang couldn’t even sense the way lightning was tearing their father apart. The twins would never have had a chance if they’d been there.


    As it was, Grandmother had only just saved him from the brink. But his Qi was fighting him, ravaging him from the inside. The fever he’d developed had not truly gone away and it addled his mind most days.


    This was the dark secret they held: a dying Patriarch who could not protect his Clan.


    He was no longer the legend that held back rival Clans and forced the Dragon Throne to respect them. If anyone at all learnt this truth, their enemies would descend upon them with sharp knives and cruel qi, ready to carve up Liao territory and turn Three Great Clans into two.


    A dark part of her wondered if his pills had been poisoned.