《Below the Heavens [Trad Epic High Fantasy]》


 Ch 1: Molam

    Regrets are the most painful reminder you chose otherwise.


    ¡ª Excerpt from Meditations, by the Red Emperor


    <hr>


    Molam''s pursuers chased him with an utter disregard for the pressing silence of the Slumbering Forest. The Forest''s presence had fallen upon him like a physical weight the moment he dashed past the treeline, surrounded by thick towering trunks that reached up into the dark night. Although the oppressive silence muffled the crunching of leaves and snapping of twigs, the persistent noise of his pursuers told him they would rather risk waking the Forest than give him a chance to escape.


    His boots pounded into the fallen leaves, the disruption eerie in the suffocating silence. He was too close to give up. Five long years of planning had finally borne fruit a mere two weeks ago, but now the weight of his precious, stolen cargo tired him just as much as it invigorated him. He needed to survive and return to ZhiXia City, to the Oracle.


    No one could give him a third chance at life.


    The thought spurred him on as he ran, his winding path illuminated only by the moonlight. The sprawling expanse of trees spread throughout the western region of the Empire, bordering the mountainous range that made up the Spike Maelstrom. Because the Forest hated fire, most wouldn''t dare set foot into the Forest at night without a full moon''s light for guidance, but it was also precisely that brilliant moonlight that put him in such a horrible position. He couldn''t shake his pursuers, no matter how much he flitted between the trees in the hopes that they would lose sight of him.


    "Seven?"


    Ten. Potentially eleven. The spirit had hidden its form to make the duo harder to follow, but its thoughts rang clearly in his head. There is a ditch ahead.


    "Potentially?" he shook his head at the incompleteness of the information and leapt over the ditch, the scabbard of his short sword banging against his thigh. "Do you not understand the importance of precise information?"


    They are faster than you. The spirit almost sounded as though it thought this information would help.


    "Everyone is faster than me," he murmured, half-annoyed but entirely without self-pity. "Is there a Domain?"


    No. Then the spirit''s voice became urgent. Arrow.


    Molam threw himself to the side as a whistle pierced the air and the projectile buried itself into a nearby tree with a thud. With no time to prepare, he was forced to lock his arms around his pack to protect its contents from being crushed as he hit the ground, doing his best to break his fall with a roll that sent him tumbling through the Forest''s floor until stopped by a thorny bush.


    Be careful with my egg.


    He sucked in air through clenched teeth before pulling himself back to his feet and continued running, tugging his cloak from the bush''s thorny grasp. The exertion from sprinting through the Slumbering Forest manifested as a dull ache in his chest and he felt the burning pain of his muscles crying out for rest. There could be no rest now; being auraless, to stay here was to die.


    But running changed nothing if he couldn''t lose the pursuers or fight them off himself. His mind raced ¨C the environment was all he had left. "Anything that isn''t trees?"


    Cliff ahead. Thirty paces.


    A dead end. But then again, something to work with. Molam ran, legs straining against the dead weight of exhaustion as his raw feet felt the chafe of leather against the inside of his boots. What did he know? What could he use? What did they know?


    "Trees. Extend. Cliff. Edge?" he huffed as he vaulted over a fallen log, leaves crunching beneath his boots. It wasn''t even Autumn''s Colors yet, but the dull silver of the moon''s glow gave an ethereal hue to the orange and brown shedding.


    Trees. Reach. Edge. Though the words were spoken directly into his mind, he could still hear the mirthful jab. Unfortunately, now was not the time to argue.


    He would fall from exhaustion long before soldiers of the Red Army even began to sweat.


    A plan formulated in his head. It wasn''t perfect. It wasn''t even good. But it would have to do. He had nothing better, and their numbers meant that his options were limited. For a normal person, a frontal fight had stopped being an option once they were outnumbered.


    For Molam, a frontal fight with anyone was never an option.


    Would the plan work? Could it work? What happened if the circumstances did not play out as he intended?


    You have no time.


    "I know, I know." Molam grimaced when he breached the treeline and braced himself to halt at the cliff''s edge. If he hadn''t been aware, he might have run through the trees and fallen into the ravine as they were quite close to the edge.


    His lips had become chapped from the night''s windless chill, and he resisted the urge to lean down to catch his breath as his heartbeat throbbed in his throat. The physical exhaustion made him lightheaded, but he had no luxury for delirium.


    Molam forced himself to think. The priority was securing time. Planning was irrelevant if he died before he was given a chance to take further action. If they caught up to him and engaged with their numbers he was dead.


    Now that he had breached the treeline, he could see YiZhi Mountain in the distance. Even at night, the clouds that covered the top of the mountain were thick and glowed a soft white under the moon. Molam scanned the clouds in earnest until he saw that the ones closest to the Slumbering Forest were darkest. Indicative of RainBringer, but inconclusive of rain.


    A gamble then? No ¡ª whether it would play out as he hoped did not matter any longer. He was not in a position to force a desired result, only forced into delaying an undesired result. When the choice was either certain death or the possibility of death, one should choose to gamble. A hasty plan with potential was better than waiting around for a good plan and losing the initiative.


    Conclusion made, Molam reached into his pack for a leather pouch and scattered its contents around the edge of the cliff. Black powder. Kalle, the alchemist that had sold it to him, called it flame powder. Perfect for setting up campfires in small quantities.


    Incoming.


    The sound of dry underbrush slowly snapping beneath boots alerted him to the cautious approach of his pursuers. It seemed they were also aware of the cliff and that he had nowhere to run.


    I can help.


    "No, we''re trying to not wake the Forest." Molam shook his head in refusal as he knelt onto one knee, grateful for the collective wariness of his pursuers. The last of the black powder was hurriedly dumped from the pouch, followed by the stones the alchemist had given him.


    You are trapping yourself here?


    He steeled himself then struck the stones against each other, but nothing happened.


    You have no time.


    "I''m trying to make time." He snapped back but fell silent again as he heard the slithering sound of metal being drawn from a sheathe.


    The moonlight illuminated seven as they emerged from the woods with weapons raised, gleaming in the night. Molam didn''t need to see the Empire''s insignia emblazoned on their clothes to identify them as soldiers of the Red Army. For a brief moment he wondered why only seven emerged, then understood that they thought only seven of them were known to him.


    "You gave us quite the chase. Probably thought that we couldn''t dare follow you through the Slumbering Forest, did you?" the one to his right brandished his sword. "But we tracked you all the same."


    "You''re part of that group in the Forest lately, right? The UnSeen?" The big one spoke with a drawl that could only hail from the Empire''s northern territories. "If you surrender now without a fight and return what you stole, the Prince may even show mercy to your little band of thieves."


    "I wasn''t aware that the Prince showed such courtesy." Molam had angled his wrists so that they could not see the flint in his hands. Strike again? Wait? Pull out his own sword? "My counteroffer is that you ¡ª"


    Arrow.


    He dropped his other knee, the movement enough to shift his balance as he twisted his head to the side and the projectile whizzed right past his ear into the valley below.


    But the maneuver put him on both knees, an opening for two of them to advance with lunging footsteps. Cursing inwardly, he dropped the stone in his right hand and used his clenched left hand to brace himself as he swiftly drew his short sword, meeting the blow that came barreling down for his head.


    "Be fucking careful, you damn rice buckets! If the egg breaks we''re dead!"


    The soldier''s shout caused the one holding Molam down to hesitate. In that brief opening, the man''s grip slackened and Molam shoved his attacker off him. His mind whirled; they could not risk pushing him off the cliff or damaging the egg, which meant ¡ªYou might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    Left.


    Molam had yet to regain his footing when the other man aimed for his defenseless left side, the blade stabbing towards his heart. Having no other option, he pulled up his clenched hand to redirect the blade with rock.


    Steel met stone in an ear-screeching keen and sparks flew. The black powder, sprinkled liberally around their area, immediately ignited.


    The flames leapt high, greedily consuming everything in their path including the clothes of the two soldiers on top of Molam. Unlike him, their garments were not made of flameproof cloth, and the fire clung to their bodies with ease.


    They retreated hastily, beating at the flames and shouting with surprise. One man''s back was ablaze, and he dropped onto the ground to roll in an attempt to smother it.


    It would have been a good idea if the ground wasn''t littered with so much kindling. The other soldiers had run forward in an attempt to aid their companion, but seeing the spreading flames they paused with a sense of unease. Molam himself backed away from the growing inferno and hugged the cliff''s edge as it spread further.


    "You''re a red auramaster?" the smaller one demanded. "Are you insane? If you wake the fucking Forest, not even a Titled One can get out alive!"


    The bright orange glow of the flames that burnt their surroundings also illuminated their hesitancy at the turn of events. Alchemy was not well practiced in the Empire and Molam doubted these soldiers would know of flame powder.


    If only they knew.


    Molam ignored the spirit''s jibe, wrapping himself up in his cloak. Ironic that when he had bought all the fireproof wear, the justification was only due to the shadow of his past. He turned the motion into a fluid gesture that he imagined would look grandiose as he stepped into the flames, the heat seeping into his clothes and skin.


    "I didn''t want to alert the Forest, but you forced my hand." Molam shouted at the two men. "We could continue this fight or you could retreat. If you strengthen your bodies you can still make it out of the Forest."


    "That isn''t auramancy." The bigger one stalked about the edge of the flickering flames. "This is some alchemy trick. We can wait out the flames. You''re trapped here with nowhere to go...unless you also plan on jumping down that cliff."


    For some reason ¡ª despite the danger he was in ¡ª part of his mind was wondering about how he was going to explain this to one of the mursashu he knew, if he survived. The Mursa Khan would probably assume Molam had too much pomberry wine. His grip tightened around his weapon as he clutched his cloak closer together, a morbid rush of giddy adrenaline running through his head.


    And to think the mursashu liked to remind everyone that time was one of the few things that money could not buy. He was buying it right now.


    The sound that had been a light crackle in the background soon became a steady staccato as the parched underbrush was consumed by embers. It was not long before the immediate surrounding of the Forest lit up in a blazing inferno. The drought had been long and the untamed flames were hungry.


    The soldiers began to withdraw as their environment became increasingly hostile, backing swiftly in leaps and bounds at the encroaching blaze that threatened to consume them as well. An arrow whizzed through the flames but it flew off mark past Molam, perhaps disoriented by the blaze''s updraft mid-flight.


    As the fire crawled up the trees and burnt vines fell from the branches, Molam tried to keep his dry eyes from blurring his vision. He needed to stay wary of the soldiers that were just beyond the flames, their hurried discussion unintelligible through the sound of the burning Forest. Molam wanted to shield himself from the heat but he did not dare turn his back to the inferno either, not when enemies were in the vicinity. Hopefully his cloak would save him, but it was not arrow-proof.


    They left.


    Grateful for the news, he turned away from the blaze, the cloak wrapped around his frame as he licked vainly at his empty waterskin. The fire crackled and spit smoke into the dry air, and the meager droplets of water he could shake out could not stop his lips from splitting in the heat.


    The inferno raged about him, and soon he was forced to close his eyes. He wished the alchemist had also made the cloak heat-proof, but being fire-proof would have to do. Molam took small solace in having made the alchemist demonstrate his material by burning the cloth over an open flame for the entirety of their conversation before Molam parted with his coin.


    If he ever saw the alchemist Kalle again, he would ask for a way to cover his face too. Then again, the man would probably question him about the practical necessity of a way to survive a sea of flame.


    Certainly, his current situation was not practical. But a plan, even a hasty one, always worked so long as a person had the right information. Or so Molam repeated his mentor''s teachings to himself. The blaze crackled and sparked, roaring behind him as smoke and soot filled the air. He was grateful for the cliff then, for as hot as the fire burnt, it could not completely surround him and he had an open sky to breathe into.


    You are quite calm for someone about to die from a forest fire.


    Molam''s mouth twitched, but his dried lips had already cracked. He sorely wanted to remind his companion that it was not his first time being threatened by flames, but he didn''t respond. His answer should manifest itself soon; or at least, he hoped he was right. He had willingly got into this position based on the barest of hints when he looked for the clouds.


    He lost track of time as he waited, his eyes closed, doing his best to breathe in short bursts to keep the acrid smoke from searing his lungs. The air around him was searingly arid and the skin of his knuckles had split. Doubt rose in his mind and Molam did his best to quell the thoughts, for there was nothing that could be done at this point. All he could do was remind himself that he saw the clouds spreading out of YiZhi Mountain and he had put his trust into it. And if he was wrong...


    The front of his hood dipped as though tapped on.


    Then he heard another tap on the side of his hood.


    The tapping increased in intensity and soon the cloak became wet as rain began to pour, tapping in a steady rhythm against his head.


    The flames died down with a hissing sizzle as Molam lifted up his face, gulping greedily at the divine rain. The water soothed his lips and was soft against his eyes as he breathed the air, cleansed from the ashes and embers.


    The storm that had gathered above the Slumbering Forest shone a bright silver-gray under the moonlight, and Molam saw a serpentine silhouette imprinted against the clouds. It could only be the dragon RainBringer as she coiled through the air and spread thunderheads throughout the skies. Judging by her direction, he guessed that she was on her way to Spike Maelstrom, EarthShaker''s lair. The possibility made him frown as he considered the implication of RainBringer paying EarthShaker a visit. The two were not fond of each other.


    Quite the plan, to result in surviving so many soldiers. Yet now you suffer RainBringer''s Storm instead.


    The steady tapping had grown into a torrent of unrelenting sheets of water. It was a drastic difference from the drought that had lasted the entirety of Summer''s Warmth and most of Autumn''s Colors, as though RainBringer had decided to unleash all of the moisture at once.


    Molam wondered if the farmers would have enough time to complete the harvest before the flood. But then, the drought must have caused the fields to be bare this year. Starving citizens made any situation more precarious, whether it was the Free Cities'' or the Empire''s. He hesitated on that thought. Given their fanatic devotion to the Prince, he imagined it was possible that the Empire''s citizens would also be more determined to fulfill their greatest wish.


    To come this far so you could die from the cold.


    The reminder of his precarious situation pulled his thoughts out of his future plans. Molam shifted around, viewing the result of his plan through the torrential downpour. The flames had spread far along the cliff, but had been relatively contained within the immediate area surrounding the Forest. The soldiers could not have stayed in the Slumbering Forest if they believed the risk of it going up in flames was high, and he doubted they were keen to run through it again during RainBringer''s Storm. Starting a fire in the divine rain was impossible unless one was an exceptionally talented auramaster.


    "I was actually including you in part of my plan."


    Were you now? The spirit''s voice in his head dripped with sarcastic disbelief.


    "Of course. Get this far, then depend on our mutual companionship for you to keep me alive. Surely my death won''t help you at all?"


    Unfortunately, his clothes were flameproof and not waterproof. The clammy fabric clinging to his skin caused his teeth to chatter as his body instinctively shivered for warmth. A Northern Warrior he once traveled with had drilled into him the importance of shedding wet clothes in the cold, but the earlier adrenaline had already left his body and all he could do was huddle in misery.


    But then the first rays of the Sun peeked over the horizon, and with it, the air around him ignited as the spirit manifested itself in a blazing flash of fiery plumage, revealing a sleek burnt-orange body and wings the color of a red dawn. The spirit phoenix peered at him with golden eyes as it floated in the air before it expanded its wings. The warmth washed over Molam as the divine rain fizzled in the air, and soon he found himself warm again in the phoenix''s blazing aura.


    "What kept you?" Molam peeled off the cloak and began wringing excess water from his clothes to hasten their drying. The phoenix shrank in size and alighted on his shoulder, a friendly blaze that immediately warmed him up.


    You wanted to avoid waking the Forest, yet you set the Forest on fire and expected no repercussion? A good thing the spirit here is someone I know.


    "Oh? And here I thought you just wanted to watch me freeze."


    It would have been rude to end the conversation so swiftly after centuries apart. The spirit shuffled to the side on his shoulder.


    "I didn''t know you cared about manners. In fact, I distinctly recall you telling me that you only show manners to someone you respect." Molam grinned slyly, "You must respect the spirit here."


    Would you like to freeze again?


    "No." Molam shivered despite the blazing warmth as he sat down and pulled his boots off to empty the water that had collected. He set them to the side to dry and opened his pack, pulling out its contents to inspect.


    First and most important: the egg. Iridescent and the size of a toddler''s head, the egg radiated heat upon touch as he carefully unwound the white silk scarf to inspect it. Satisfied, he placed it to the side atop his cloak to ensure it could not roll freely.


    At least place my egg on something more grand than your soot-covered cloak. The phoenix shuffled itself around his shoulder.


    "...if you''re demanding the silk scarf, that''s intended to be a gift."


    You should have had the foresight to steal the cushion as well.


    Ignoring the phoenix, he dug into the pack and retrieved the food within, checking the dried delicacies for whether they were ruined by the rain.


    The phoenix peeked around his head. I hope RainBringer''s daughter appreciates the amount of care you put into securing her tribute.


    "Why do you think I bought this water-resistant pack? She would never forgive me if I offered her rotten tribute."


    It seems less extravagant than the silk scarf for the Oracle.


    Molam shrugged. "I don''t know what the Oracle would want, so I merely chose what I think would complement her previous attire."


    He fell silent as he watched the edges of the phoenix''s aura, where the raindrops sizzled away into nothingness. Part of him wondered that if any onlooker could see through the relentless downpour, they would confuse him with an auramaster manifesting a ball of rainless air around himself.


    The light of the rising Sun filtered through the gray clouds and he could see the dark silhouette of YiZhi Mountain in the distance. "I can''t wait to go home. Five years just for this." He pointed to the lustrous egg, "Just to release you. Five years of walking amongst those that killed me."


    Five years since you left, and all you bring back as tribute is dried candy and fruit? And to think I thought you missed them.


    "Of course I miss them. Even RainBringer, though I don''t think she misses me at all."


    She is likely not ready to meet me again.


    "Oh? And why is that?"


    The phoenix made a dipping shrug with its neck.


    I may remind her of times best forgotten.


    He packed his dried items in silence, steeling himself for the remaining journey left. The rain continued unabated but Molam decided it would be the best cover he could get for avoiding the Empire''s pursuit, if they were still waiting for him. So long as he made it to the borders of ZhiXia City, they would be forced to give up. It was time to return to the Castle in the Sky.


    Home.

 Ch 2: Sanctuary

    Disasters. Floods and fires, drought and the tremors of the earth. The Empire has brought the ire of the Gods and dragons alike down onto us. So the Gods remind us of the Red Emperor¡¯s hubris with catastrophe.


    Do we kowtow to the Prince who only wants more of the same simply because we fear for our lives?


    No! I remind you that we tried to have him see reason but he has shown us his true nature. The Massacre of Kamisukawa is just the beginning!


    How many more lives must be lost before we put our differences aside and kill the tiger''s cub before it grows?


    How many more catastrophes must we suffer before we put a stop to the cause?


    ¡ª Copy of the Frozen Saint''s proclamation to each of the Free Cities, preserved at the Fallen Star Pavilion


    <hr>


    With the spirit phoenix as his only companion and the divine rain falling around them, Molam made his way out of the Forest. It wasn''t until he breached the treeline that he felt the sinking feeling in his navel go away, but he did not look back.


    He had little desire to know the source of his sense of unease. The Fallen Star Pavilion had recorded the last awakening of the Slumbering Forest many decades ago and Molam did not want to be the one to stir it.


    The road back to YiZhi Mountain stretched out into the murky torrent of rain with only the mountain''s shadow serving as a guide, and Molam wished he could physically reinforce his body the way those soldiers could with aura. Part of him wondered if it was hypocritical of him to say he had long accepted his condition when he still found himself with these futile desires. He was auraless, and wishing otherwise wouldn''t change anything.


    But it wasn''t just physical strength that he desired as he carried the phoenix''s egg with him on the road. The spirit rode on his shoulder, a warm presence that kept the divine rain at bay. It had been uncharacteristically silent as it took in all of the surroundings on their journey, refamiliarizing itself with the world after it had been locked away for many years. In some ways, Molam could sympathize with the spirit''s present condition, remembering his feelings when returning to the human realm after more than a decade in the Castle in the Sky. But if what the spirit had said was true, then it had been locked away for more than half a millenia. If the world had changed much for Molam, how had it changed for the spirit?


    "Won''t you attract attention, riding on my shoulder like that? Back to the egg with you. I don''t think you should be out even after we reach ZhiXia."


    How uneducated. This rain provides all the cover I need.


    "It was just a concern." Molam continued his walk in the torrential Storm. The phoenix''s sphere of heat held strong against the downpour, and it was only under the cover of its protection that Molam could continue his journey with confidence. "With such an¡­ announced presence, I don''t want us to attract any undue attention before I make it back to Sanctuary."


    And the warning is appreciated. Do not worry ¡ª I am paying attention to our surroundings.


    They came across a flooded piece of farmland. Or at least, Molam suspected it was farmland ¡ª the ground had been tilled into rows. Molam surveyed the surroundings as much as he could through the torrential sheets of divine rain, barely registering the phoenix''s ramblings as he looked to navigate around the flood.


    Though it stayed on his shoulder to keep him dry, it perpetually looked about their surroundings as it swayed alongside his gait. Molam guessed that it was Seeing and wistfully wondered what sort of experience that was like. RainBringer''s daughter had once described it as akin to seeing the world in more colors. But then, she had also said that it gave her a headache.


    I see the leylines are faring better than I thought despite DuskWing''s demise.


    "During my time in the Castle, RainBringer spent most of her time and effort maintaining the leylines."


    Ever the responsible one. I wonder if the others of my kind have been helping her.


    The farmland had given way to an abandoned village, one much like the one he had once grown up in. The divine rain coalesced into rivulets that followed the path of the beaten road, and Molam was forced to climb the rooftops and walls of the village as he moved about to avoid walking through the floating debris.


    This village. It seems familiar, based on your memories.


    The spirit''s observation made him stop so he could survey his surroundings. Despite the crumbled buildings, the brickwork was not yet dilapidated and the spirits of nature had yet to reclaim the area. The stonework was a dark gray in the rain, and the meager midday light filtering through the clouds that followed in RainBringer''s wake did little to illuminate his surroundings.


    His breath caught as recognition crept into his mind and his eyes darted around wildly. He had memories of this place. It was one of the first villages he had seen after descending back down from the Castle.


    Molam dashed through the rain in the direction of a building he knew should be in the area. The phoenix''s dome of protection shielded him from the rain but did nothing about the muddy ground and he almost slipped on some smooth pavement as he rounded a corner, but Molam found his bearings and continued towards where the Shrine should be. The village''s close proximity to Sanctuary meant that they had been charged by the Oracle with the care of some orphans. The meager Shrine had been managed by a particularly patient Priestess named Komura who had been willing to instruct Molam in the manners of the world.


    It wasn''t until he saw the Shrine''s dark gray silhouette through the rain that he slowed down. The village had been kind enough to let him stay after the Oracle dropped him in their midsts with hardly any announcement, but it was really the Shrine he cared about. He was grateful that the Shrine was still there.


    But the people were not. He glanced around at his surroundings. All of the village''s buildings were still here, even if they were not occupied. Nothing was destroyed, and though the drought that lasted throughout Summer''s Warmth must have brought a poor harvest, Sanctuary would have provided for their needs if necessary. There was no sign this village had suffered catastrophe.


    What happened to this village?


    What indeed? Molam continued surveying his surroundings with a sense of unease, questions running through his head. Where had the people gone? What could have caused them to abandon their home?


    The answer occurred to him then as he voiced his answer to the spirit''s question. "Based on the location and the state of the buildings ¡ª I suspect they were fleeing war."


    Feasible. The phoenix dipped its head as it looked about with him, the divine rain obscuring only parts of the village. But disconcerting.


    "Yes." Molam took one last look at the Shrine and felt as though he could hear the delighted shouts of the orphans through the rain. But the village echoed nothing aside from the ghosts of his memories, its presence muted through the divine rain that fell all around him as he resumed his journey. "A village this close to Sanctuary ¡­ only the Red Army could make them abandon it."


    You seem indifferent. Did you not spend time here? The Priestess. The fat one that loved sweets. The short one that wanted to learn alchemy. The ¡ª


    "I don''t appreciate you using my memories to guilt me." Molam clambered up a wall and over a roof, taking great care to not slip on its surface. Part of him wished he could confirm his guess by tracking where the Red Army went, but the Storm worked against him as much as it worked in his favor, no doubt already covering any signs of the Red Army''s passing. He caught his own thoughts and tried to shake them off. "I''m going home. None of this affects me. Not anymore."


    Do you really think returning to the Castle will insulate you from what happens in the human realm? The Red Emperor has been dead for two centuries, yet the Prince has not given up on opening the Stairs.


    "The Empire of the Sun hasn''t succeeded. Not now, not ever." Molam replied in a flat tone. "The Red Emperor suffered his Eight Defeats and the Bloody Prince has never made a serious attempt at attacking Sanctuary. The Free Cities wouldn''t tolerate an attack on the Oracle either."


    The Prince is nothing if not determined.


    He barely recognized the perimeter of the ruined village as he came upon the edge, but the bank of the River Jiang came to view on his right side. Here, he turned around to look at the abandoned village and for a brief moment, the ghostly silhouettes he could see through the veil of warmth reminded him of a village that he had once belonged to.


    A village that had made a decision.


    "So many suffer because one man wants to become a God."


    The moment passed. Molam turned his back to the abandoned village, and continued on his way.


    ***


    RainBringer''s Storm threatened to flood the Central Valley for two days. Perhaps the scholars at the Fallen Star Pavilion would consider it a catastrophe, but Molam could only feel a sense of gratitude as it meant that the soldiers of the Red Army could not pursue him. The Storm petered away when he walked within the vicinity of YiZhi Mountain and he relaxed, knowing that the Red Army would not dare enter the territory around the Mountain.


    "I''m about to enter the city. Do you mind returning to the egg?"


    You would deny these humans the grace of my presence?


    "Yes, very regal indeed. I''m trying to get home without any other problems and I can''t exactly walk into a human establishment with a phoenix on my shoulder."If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    The phoenix gave him a reproachful look, then raised its wings and shrugged, shifting in colors and size upon his shoulder until it became a small hawk.


    This will allow you to masquerade as an anima.


    "The auramasters with animal bonds?" Molam frowned. "Do any of them befriend birds?"


    The hawk shifted around to stare at him with piercing red eyes. A similar form allows me to have a better sense of my bearings.


    "I don''t think it helps me avoid attention at all. An anima is rare enough without you being a hawk. Can''t you be something more...normal? Might I suggest a pigeon?"


    A wing beat twice against his ear, but it was more sound than touch. This form is already insulting enough.


    Molam winced on instinct, a hand reaching up instinctively but he stopped short of grabbing at the spirit. "Don''t draw attention to yourself then. What anima gets hit by their own bond?"


    One that has no control over their bond. The spirit''s voice seemed almost smug in his head. Or one with less aura.


    Swallowing a pithy response, Molam chose to not answer instead. The city''s borders loomed ahead of him and it was time to enter. He had accomplished the task RainBringer had set out for him, and all that was left was for him to report his success to the Oracle. Once that was done, he could go home and RainBringer would be more amenable to granting his request.


    ***


    According to the history scrolls at the Fallen Star Pavilion, YiZhi Mountain had another name in the Old Tongue, roughly translating to The Solitary Finger, though some scholars argued that a more appropriate translation would be The Finger Holding Up the Sky. Molam had no strong feelings about either translation, though he considered both appropriate since the mountain looked exactly like a clenched fist with an extended index finger pointing to the sky, with the fingertip eternally obscured by the clouds that surrounded the Castle in the Sky. Trees did not dot the mountain and its surface was a purplish-gray, a color he hadn¡¯t seen anywhere else in his travels.


    The ancients had carved Sanctuary into the base of YiZhi Mountain, where the palm of the enclosed fist would be. ZhiXia City, also known as the City Without Borders, had sprung up outside of it over the ages. Perhaps it was initially named so because it was the only city without walls, or maybe it was named so because it was the only neutral city that accepted all without question.


    Looking at it from afar, Molam saw the view of a sprawling group of buildings neatly arranged down several streets that led straight to Sanctuary, with smaller buildings that fanned out in tighter alleyways. The entire structure of the city looked like an opened folding fan, with Sanctuary itself acting as the head and the buildings masquerading as the leaves.


    The main streets themselves were crowded with those on a pilgrimage to Sanctuary, walking up and down the street in orderly lines as Molam slipped into the crowd. Though the main entrance of Sanctuary was available for those that wished to burn incense and kneel in prayer to the Gods, all that made the pilgrimage hoped to be granted an audience with the Oracle. Despite the Oracle''s infamous reclusiveness, many made the journey whenever they could, hoping to receive divine guidance or even just to be accepted as one worthy enough to serve Sanctuary.


    The residents of ZhiXia City itself plied their trade and followed the rules set by Sanctuary, including paying their own tribute to Sanctuary in the form of a protection fee. The protection fee levied by Sanctuary may be greater than the taxes of any Free City or the Empire, but for some people, what price was too high for peace?


    Fascinating, his companion''s fiery eyes did not move so much as the head rotated, turning left and right as its head bobbed up and down to counteract the shifting of Molam''s gait. It stared at the decorations outside each of the shops and businesses of the city. Auric bubbles maintaining a form with residual aura. Quite the delicate work, to ensure they shimmer like that in the light.


    "If you say so," Molam squeezed himself to the side of the road so that the bird on his shoulder was separated from the crowd. "They say the Whale of ZhiXia creates them himself. It would make sense for a Titled One to have that level of control."


    "Hey! Hey you, the anima with the handsome hawk bond! Would you like to buy some duck skewers? Maybe your hawk would like it?"


    Molam wanted to ignore it as he had with the other stall owners, but the spirit shifted on his shoulder. Handsome? A pity most humans cannot See. He should see me in my true glory.


    Molam turned his attention to the street stall, its sizzling scents permeating the air nearby. The young man tending to the open grill waved cheerfully, his suntanned face breaking into a brilliant smile while he gestured at some skewers to the side. For the past two days, he had finished the food that had been ruined by the divine rain and now his stomach grumbled when he sniffed the mouthwatering scent of melted duck fat, melded together with the tingling spices. The stall''s selection of spices blended with the gamey scent of duck and seduced him by scent alone.


    A quick exchange of coins later, Molam found himself waiting for the skewers to be grilled.


    "Are you here on a pilgrimage too?" The stall owner struck up conversation as he slowly turned the wooden sticks atop the flames. Molam wondered if the owner''s rather large nose was a boon or hindrance for work that involved standing in front of an open flame.


    "You can say that," Molam tore his eyes away from the shimmering bubble near the stall. The peculiar shape of the bubble looked like a fish, and he had heard it was the symbol of the elusive Titled One that protected Sanctuary. "I am here to see the Oracle."


    The stall owner smiled encouragingly, "Many are, but few get to see her. I''ve lived here all my life and even I have never met anyone permitted to enter the Inner Sanctum. I hope no one filled your head with thoughts of coming to ZhiXia on a pilgrimage and being granted an audience with the Oracle!"


    "I''ll keep that in mind," Molam accepted the skewers. Thanking the owner, Molam walked to the side of the street and huddled up against the cold wall, ensuring that no one could bump into him whilst he had the skewer in his mouth before he eagerly bit into the still-piping-hot meat. Almost immediately, he let go and flicked his tongue between his lips as he winced at the hot morsel, huffing and puffing through the cold air.


    An eager tongue only invites trouble.


    "Perhaps some fowl should learn that advice too." Molam huffed at the hawk. "Might be how humans got this one, you think?" He waved the skewer of duck meat at the hawk as it regarded him with fiery red eyes. "It was constantly so loud a hunter could shoot it in the dark?"


    Once upon a time, merely basking in my presence would render a human to tears, much less having me sit upon their shoulder. Yet here I settle, doomed to endure your heathenish disrespect simply because I rely on you to bring my egg back to Sanctuary.


    "Yes, yes," Molam bit into the meat, chewing fully for several moments before swallowing it down. "You are the great almighty bird and I am forevermore grateful to have you by my side. Oh great almighty bird, is it because you require tribute?" Molam offered the skewer to the spirit. "All I have are these duck skewers."


    Spirits have no need for physical sustenance. You might not be able to feel it, but the aura coalescing in Sanctuary is quite nourishing.


    "Mhm," Molam acknowledged it with a full mouth as they made their way through the city.


    As they followed the line to Sanctuary, Molam bought various foods he thought would hold a dragon''s fancy until his pack was full to the brim. It wasn''t until late in the afternoon that their winding path ended at the crowded entrance to Sanctuary.


    Sanctuary itself seemed to be a relatively modest temple on the outside, roughly chiseled out of the mountain''s base. Seven pillars held up the entrance, each carved with a depiction of one of the Seven Gods. The pillars were laid out in symmetrical order, with one at the middle of the entrance. It was in front of each of these pillars that worshippers walked up and prayed to before moving on.


    Beyond the pillars, in front of the entrance into Sanctuary itself stood two Priestesses, marked by their robes of pure white. Though many of the worshippers craned their necks in vain attempts to look past the Priestesses and into Sanctuary, none dared enter Sanctuary itself without permission.


    There is no Mursa here to help you sneak in like you did in Crimson City''s Palace. The hawk preened itself in a bored manner as Molam stood at the outskirts of the entrance into Sanctuary. Surely you had a plan to meet the Oracle when you returned?


    Molam kept observing the entrance and the line of worshippers as they passed by the entrance. A lengthy time passed before he saw the Priestesses step forward to beckon at a worshiper and the chosen woman eagerly stepped forward, almost in a daze. She fell onto a knee and kowtowed to the statues before getting up on her feet and approached Sanctuary''s stone entrance. After a brief exchange with the Priestesses, they directed the woman inside.


    The whole ordeal confused him for he saw nothing that marked the woman apart from the rest, yet she had clearly been selected out of the endless throng of worshipers. "Was there anything special about that woman?"


    Nothing that would have piqued my interest.


    "Useless," Molam murmured as he fell in line with the worshippers. Time to test his theory: the Priestesses chose whom to enter according to some criteria they could both determine, yet was unavailable to others, Molam included. In his mind, that could only narrow the possibilities down to one thing: the Priestesses could See aura. Or at least, the ones at the entrance could. Though he had no aura of his own, the Oracle had seen fit to give him her protection before she sent him out to fulfill his task five years ago. If the Oracle''s protection had been the same thing the spirit recognized when they met, then¡­


    The line moved at a steady pace, and soon it was Molam''s turn to pass the entrance to Sanctuary. The pressure and weight of testing his own theory coupled with his self-doubt made his knees lock and his feet drag, turning the two steps of walking forward into something akin to a drunken stagger. The frustration reached a breaking point and he flushed at his inability to move as normal.


    The tension of testing his theory almost made him flinch as the people around him gasped ¡ª he looked around and realized the two Priestesses had walked right to the edge of the platform, one on each side of a stone pillar, their pure white robes billowing behind them. The one on the right pointed at him and then beckoned with the same finger.


    "So I was right." Molam murmured to himself, just loudly enough that the spirit could hear.


    ***


    "I am here to see the Oracle." Molam told them as soon as he stepped past the entrance into Sanctuary. It was immediately darker, but lit by candlelight in the alcoves carved into the walls as the afternoon''s Sunlight did not pass the stone walls.


    "We were waiting." The younger looking Priestess looked at him with solemn, big brown eyes that twinkled in the candlelight. "The Oracle informed us you had entered the city earlier."


    Molam frowned. "Did she? How did she know?"


    The two Priestesses exchanged a look of confusion, before the older one looked back to Molam, her green eyes betraying little of her thoughts. "You are within her Domain. Please, follow us."


    They fell back into silence, and Molam was content with following them deeper into Sanctuary as he took the chance to look at his surroundings. The Oracle had sent him directly to the abandoned village the first time he departed, so Molam took a good glance around the polished halls of Sanctuary as he followed the two Priestesses. The halls of Sanctuary were artfully carved out of the mountain, but as they went deeper, Molam saw that the walls themselves had murals etched into them or were covered with tapestries. Much of history was preserved here, something he knew a certain scholar friend at the Fallen Star Pavilion would lament; the Oracle''s refusal to allow the Pavilion scholars entry into Sanctuary for study served as a continuous source of contention between them.


    They stopped in the middle of the hallway in front of an unmarked door. Before he could ask, the older-looking Priestess stood to the side and bowed to him, and the younger one quickly followed suit.


    "Only those granted an audience are allowed in," the older Priestess gestured towards the door. Her reverential behavior left no doubt that behind this door lay the Inner Sanctum where he first met the Oracle. Molam contemplated it briefly: the unassuming door piqued no interest for anyone who was simply passing by and looking at the murals and tapestries. A far cry from the ostentatious doors he had seen City Lords and rich merchants use to announce their own importance.


    The younger Priestess also gestured at the door, signaling an end to their conversation, before the two of them left in the direction they came from. It was not until they had turned the corner out of sight that Molam turned back to the door and exhaled.


    Well, what are you waiting for?


    "I don''t know," Molam admitted, taking a deep breath before he closed his eyes and reached for the door. "It felt as though I spent so long thinking about home that I no longer remembered what that even meant."


    He grasped the door¡¯s handle and opened the door into the Inner Sanctum.

 Ch 3: The Oracle

    "Aura is the force of life itself."


    Vareon the Sage''s definition formed the basis of our understanding of aura and has endured over a millennia. All living things contain aura, yet only through conscious wielding by the sentient can the exceptional be achieved.


    ¡ª Preface to Elements of Auramancy by Scholar Dayton of the Fallen Star Pavilion


    <hr>


    Opening the door greeted Molam with darkness ¡ª devoid of any of the candlelight that decorated the inner halls of Sanctuary. Indeed, it seemed as though the light of the candles¡¯ flames stopped precisely at the threshold of the entrance into the Inner Sanctum. Despite that, Molam walked in without hesitation, stepping over the threshold into the murky twilight. As he continued walking through the darkness with only the sound of his footsteps, an ethereal shimmer was visible behind the forlorn gloom. Soon, he was greeted by the nostalgic glow of the Oracle.


    As he walked towards the glow, he realized he was seeing the Oracle¡¯s dais from a different vantage point from when he had first walked down the Stairs. What he had previously thought were pillars that surrounded the Oracle¡¯s dais was now revealed to be statues. Seven of them were arranged around the Oracle''s dais, illuminated faintly by the Oracle¡¯s glow at the center. Though they were carrying different items and stood in different positions than their depictions in the pillars outside of Sanctuary, Molam could still see that the seven pillars were carved depictions of the Gods.


    Behind the dais lay the Stairs. Darkened and inert, far different from the way the Stairs had glowed when he had first come down from them. But even in the darkness of the Inner Sanctum, he could see that the Stairs went up into the dim darkness of YiZhi Mountain''s peak, to where the Castle in the Sky waited. More ominously, the Stairs also sank into the ground, leading downwards. Being the Stairs that connected all things, there was only one thing that the Stairs could lead to below.


    The Oracle sat on her knees, her legs folded beneath her thighs with her back straight, a curious posture he had never seen used by anyone else during his travels. Her small form did not even fully cover the cushion she sat upon, though she sat in her seat with a rigidness of her back that was prim and full of purpose. He could see with certainty that her glow extended to her clothing itself, for what he could see of her hands and neck glowed in a similar manner to the white fabric of her clothing. And finally, a mask covered her face, carved and painted with ceremonial patterns to look like the face of a dragon.


    "Oracle." Molam bowed as he stood in front of her but did not kowtow as he imagined most pilgrims would. While he was not under any disillusionment of being her equal, he had not returned to be a mere petitioner; he had returned with purpose and there was no need for him to present himself as beneath her. She had deemed RainBringer''s task impossible for him, and he had spent five years to successfully prove her wrong.


    "A boy left here five years ago." Though his footsteps echoed throughout the Inner Sanctum, the Oracle¡¯s voice did not.


    "And a man returned." Molam''s answer echoed in the darkness, dissipating into the shadows. "All ready to go home."


    The eyes that glittered behind the mask pondered him for a moment before her gaze shifted to the hawk on his shoulders. "Fiery One. An appropriate form to take upon your return to Sanctuary."


    The spirit leaped from his shoulder and erupted into a fiery blaze, resuming its true form as a phoenix. Almost eight hundred years, yet I see time cannot teach you manners for your elders.


    "Did the Red Emperor or the Prince teach you the Common Tongue as well?" The Oracle''s unhurried way of speaking remained the same ¡ª a tone that did not rise or fall with each syllable spoken in equal measure.


    Teach me? Upon being freed by the human boy here, I searched his memories. It helped me learn much about the modern day.


    Molam shifted uncomfortably as he remembered the experience. The spirit had stopped its soul-searching upon realizing Molam was not an enemy, but the harrowing experience had proven almost fatal.


    "And how long until your true rebirth?"


    A discussion for another time. The phoenix resettled itself on Molam''s shoulder so that the Oracle would see the two of them. The boy wants to return home.


    The subtle gesture left no doubt as to which side it was on, and Molam wondered if the heat in his cheeks came from the spirit''s Domain or the warmth of gratitude. The Oracle''s eyes gleamed behind the mask as she viewed both him and the spirit before she shifted her gaze back to Molam.


    "I''ve accomplished what RainBringer set me out to do," Molam stood forth. "I''m ready to go home."


    Silence. Then, "RainBringer has commanded that if you were unable to succeed, that you were to be given the chance to do so."


    "What?" Molam felt his voice rise. "I don''t understand; what do you mean ''unable to succeed?'' I did what she asked and brought back the spirit''s egg."


    "You were tasked with bringing back the spirit, not the egg."


    "What''s the difference?" He unslung his pack and pulled out the glowing egg in the white scarf. "This! This is what I spent five years of my life searching for! RainBringer promised ¡ª"


    The echoless voice held no pity. "As much as I would like to open the Stairs for you to return, I cannot disobey RainBringer in matters regarding the Castle in the Sky."


    RainBringer is as stubborn as I remembered. The phoenix raised a wing. The boy has done his part. Now that I am freed from the Red Emperor''s shackles, my rebirth can proceed.


    "RainBringer needs you to rebirth soon. The spirits have been disorganized for too long, and the leylines demand her attention."


    "That''s not my issue." Molam felt his irritation rising. "I didn''t leave the Castle just so she could keep me trapped down here. I just want to go home."


    The Oracle''s eyes glinted at him from behind the mask. "The decision is final, child. RainBringer told you to bring back the Fiery One, not just the egg."


    "Then how long," Molam growled, struggling to keep the note of animosity out of his voice as he turned to the spirit, "Would it take you to rebirth?"


    With my egg immersed in Sanctuary''s aura? Another ten years.


    "I can''t sit on your egg for ten years, waiting for you to hatch." Molam snarled with frustration. For a brief moment he wanted to hurl the egg against the stone floor as he turned an accusing glare to the Oracle. "RainBringer is using this as an excuse to keep me away. She never wanted me in the Castle in the first place, and now she has an excuse to keep me out, is that it?" His voice had grown to a crescendo. "I never should have trusted either of you."


    He scowled at the Oracle and the glimmer of her eyes behind the mask stared back. The eyes behind the mask were indiscernible and betrayed none of the Oracle''s thoughts, yet the force behind her gaze made Molam tuck his chin in as he fought against the urge to shiver and take a step back.


    The Oracle''s gaze followed him as he paced. "If you had allowed me to finish explaining, you would understand that RainBringer appreciates what you have done and believes that you deserve parts of what you asked for many years ago. Namely, the means that would allow you to ensure no one else ends up like you."


    "What does that mean?" He demanded.


    "People that would follow you, if you do this correctly. Before you left here, you told me what you could do with an army of your own. Did you not challenge me to a game of dragon chess to prove it?"


    Molam gritted his teeth, then took a deep breath before turning to the Oracle. "Don''t think for a moment that I don''t know what any of this means. The two of you just want to utilize me for your own purposes against the Empire of the Sun, don''t deny it."This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    "Do you not want to prove your value to RainBringer? As the only auraless human, the one way you can ¡ª"


    The phoenix spread its wings with a forceful gale and the Oracle fell silent, but their silent exchange did nothing to quell the sinking sensation that gripped at his navel.


    "I apologize, child. I did not mean to imply that you have no value just because of your circumstances."


    The expressionless tone of her apology did nothing to mediate the heavy feeling in his chest, but Molam could do nothing more than nod.


    "What does RainBringer want?" He whispered into the silence.


    "You are to collect elderwood from the World Tree, enough for a bonfire to immerse the egg in."


    The phoenix shifted. That would work for a full rebirth.


    "Elderwood? Enough for a full bonfire?" Molam almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the task, pacing about furiously as he threw angry looks at the Oracle. "Do you¡­ do you even know¡­"


    "RainBringer understands the difficulty and I have prepared the means ahead of time to enable you to do so. Each city of the Empire receives an allotment of the World Tree''s elderwood for their yearly Festival of the Hero, and the city of JiangXi is no different. Gain control of the city and bring back their allotment of elderwood."


    "Have you considered what you are asking?" The words seemed stilted as he forced them past his lips. "You point out my shortcomings, and then ask me to do something that even an auramaster wouldn''t do."


    The Oracle''s eyes glittered behind the mask. "You will be allowed to keep what you gain in the city for your own purposes and once the rebirth happens, I will be allowed to open the Stairs for you."


    "Do you even hear yourself as you bargain with me, trying to convince me to do this?" Molam looked at her with an expression of incredulity and loathing. "You think I didn''t understand why RainBringer sent me out in the first place? You didn''t expect me to survive either, did you? But I did! And more than that, I did what you two wanted!" He brought the egg above his head, fighting down a burning desire for violence. Only the sense that it was the culmination of many years of effort kept his hands from dashing it to the ground.


    "Blood, sweat, and tears, I did it! Then I come back expecting to go home, only to find the two of you already plotted to use me even further. Have you considered what I''ve already gone through? I have just stolen from the Empire and came back alive, yet you dangle what I want just out of reach again?" His shoulders slacked. "I''m not doing it again. I can''t."


    He set the egg down on the ground next to him and turned away from the Oracle''s dais, squinting into the darkness in search of the door he had entered from. "Keep the egg, this is what you wanted so much that you were willing to make me spend five years looking for it. Keep the damn scarf too."


    The Oracle''s voice reached him. "I thought you wanted to end the Empire''s catastrophes. Is that not why you asked RainBringer for her help? Is that not why you asked me for my protection?"


    "I''ve died once because others thought RainBringer only responded to tribute," he snapped, his own voice echoing back at him as he walked past the statues of the Gods. "You''re even worse than the humans that used me then."


    She did not even deny it. "You may return if you change your mind. Sanctuary is open to you."


    "But not my home." He groped in the darkness for the door and exited the Inner Sanctum, leaving behind the phoenix and the Oracle.


    ***


    When the door closed behind the boy, the Inner Sanctum''s darkness crept in as the Oracle''s glow retracted back into her dais. It was slow at first, but then it picked up speed as the darkness slithered at the edges. What the Oracle''s aura could not claim was immediately consumed by darkness, until even the statues of the Gods were shrouded in obscurity. With a final ebbing flicker, the Oracle''s glow receded back to cover her body and the gloom rushed in.


    With a flap of its wings the phoenix spread an inferno throughout the Inner Sanctum, bringing its orange glow into the Inner Sanctum and chasing the shadows away.


    Your condition is far worse than I imagined. The spirit chastised her as it made a circular swoop around the inside of the Inner Sanctum. Did RainBringer put you up to this? Stabilizing the leylines in the wake of DuskWing''s death?


    "It is what needs to be done. There is no suitable replacement for DuskWing, and this is why we need you to rebirth as soon as possible." The Oracle held up a sleeved arm, allowing the phoenix to perch on her arm after it completed a round.


    You handled that poorly with the boy. You need to consider what you have already put him through just to free me.


    The Oracle shook a hand out of her other sleeve and pointed at the egg, causing it to float over and settle down at her side. "What needs to be considered now is what the Empire is planning, and what the Prince is doing. The Prince has left Crimson City. Do you know why?"


    I assume it has to do with the SunFlower. It was all he ever talked about in our more recent conversations. The phoenix sidled up to the Oracle''s shoulder as she pointed to a stone bowl in the hands of one of the statues. It responded to her call, floating silently to rest in front of the Oracle. I had guessed that is why you and RainBringer came up with the plan, but the human boy can only do so much. Freeing me from Crimson City''s Shrine is already an impressive enough feat ¡ª astounding if you consider his lack of aura.


    The Oracle touched a finger to the rim of the stone bowl. Water glimmered in the darkness, condensing into the bowl as she responded. "I never denied his accomplishment. But do you want me to cajole him and agree to what he wants when there is so much left to be done? If the Prince deems the SunFlower important enough to personally move, then we cannot sit to the side and wait. It is no longer just about waiting for the boy to understand why."


    Then why force him? You and RainBringer gave him little choice in the matter.


    "If the child does not acquiesce to RainBringer''s task, we have little recourse without breaking the Gods'' mandate that we not interfere."


    That is no excuse to force him in this manner. You need to consider his feelings on the matter, especially when we are all he has left. And if what you say is true, then he is all you have left without breaking the mandate.


    "We are not in a position to prioritize his feelings over what needs to be done. Perhaps you have forgotten that during your extended absence?" Now that the stone bowl was full, the Oracle gazed at the still water within. The reflection of her dragon mask leered back. "If he returns to the Castle, he may not want to leave again. Even after five years, he did not develop any lasting bonds with his own kind, ones that would give him the attachment we need him to have. You might disagree with us, but RainBringer has her reasons ¡ª and I have mine. Or have you grown attached to him?"


    The spirit evaded answering the question. No one who believes the end justifies the means ever receives the ending they envisioned. Not you. Not the Red Emperor. Not RainBringer.


    "We will both live long enough to appreciate the consequences of our actions. You disagree, yet you are still here. So let me ask, now that you have been freed," The Oracle strummed the edge of the stone bowl with a slender finger and the water within danced at her call. "Are we still aiming for the same goal?"


    After a moment, the phoenix dipped its head. The same goal. Even if I disagree with your methods.


    "Good. For now, share with me what you learned during your time in captivity. The Prince has hidden himself from my scrying for over a century. Do you have anything to share?"


    He still plans to achieve what the Red Emperor could not. Ascend the Stairs and meet the Gods.


    "So nothing has changed. And without an invitation..." The Oracle did not seem surprised, just a weary acceptance. "No doubt he''s looking for a new way to overcome my sister?"


    He spoke of a weapon called the SunFlower in the alchemy city of Techoria. My knowledge of the current world is lacking, and I refrained from extracting too much of the boy''s memories else I risked causing further damage to his already fractured soul. The phoenix shrugged its wings. What can you tell me about the SunFlower?


    The Oracle''s fingers caressed the edge of the stone bowl again and the water within frothed before settling into stillness. The image of a city reflected off the still waters. At the highest plateau in the city resided a giant device gleaming with metal, reminiscent of the shape of a sunflower.


    "A weapon powerful enough to make EarthShaker retreat in the past."


    The phoenix reappeared on the edge of the bowl opposite her as they looked within the waters together.


    Truly? The phoenix hopped around the rim of the stone bowl, peering at the image presented upon the water. Alchemy has progressed far enough to injure a dragon? Is it a new Prodigy? Or has EarthShaker become so craven since I last saw him?


    "In the time since you disappeared, only two have earned the Title of Prodigy. The SunFlower is the creation of Flangel the Wise. But injuring a dragon is not new. Even the Red Emperor successfully killed DuskWing." The Oracle pulled her hand away from the stone bowl and the image faded away. "Dragons are still flesh and bone."


    And so are you. The spirit hopped onto her arm, rubbing its head against her shoulder. I understand why you have taken on the responsibility for maintaining the Seal, but RainBringer is selfish for not asking her daughter to share this burden.


    "Again, this is why we need you to rebirth and reorganize the other spirits again. The child succeeded in freeing you, but we need him to do more." The Oracle inhaled, straightening her back and held her hands out in a pushing motion. Once more, her white glow extended far beyond the dais and chased the darkness away. "Perhaps you can also talk to him. You have his memories, so you would know best how you can convince him. We need him."


    You want me to use his memories against him? The phoenix glared at her with eyes full of reproach. Have we sunk this low?


    The Oracle did not challenge the accusation. "Do you think we can afford to wait for another, when the Prince and his obsession with climbing the Stairs grows stronger with each passing year?"


    Do not use that line of reasoning with me. I will not participate in this. He will be the one to decide.


    "Frustrating, but I will respect your decision." Inclining her head, the Oracle gestured and the stone bowl floated back to its resting place with the statue. "I will amend myself. I succeeded in getting him to develop one bond."

 Ch 4: What Once Was

    I have found that the best lies are wrapped in nothing but the truth.


    ¡ª Excerpt from Meditations, by the Red Emperor


    <hr>


    Molam found himself lost in Sanctuary, unable to remember the winding twists and turns that the two Priestesses had taken to guide him here. He berated himself for thinking that he didn''t need to memorize the path, having been lulled into a false sense of security when he thought he was going home.


    He could only console himself with the thought that he could find the exit somewhere if he wandered the stone halls of Sanctuary long enough with one hand sliding against the cool stone murals that decorated the walls. He found the situation ironic. Here he was, wandering the halls of Sanctuary after having escaped Crimson City''s Palace just a month ago, two places that few ever had the privilege to enter. Yet without the Oracle''s help, he couldn''t go home. RainBringer had seen to that.


    With a start, he realized that his hand currently touched a mural depicting RainBringer. The image captured the dragon''s coiling form as it soared through the sky, surrounded by clouds and the dotted rain that fell to the earth, with crowds of people holding their hands up high in a gesture of gratitude.


    Rage gripped at him and he pounded his fist against the carving, as though the act could somehow channel his frustration from the stone depiction to the dragon itself. Once, twice, then three times, and when he pulled his arm back for a fourth blow a voice stopped him.


    "Strike away, but when flesh meets stone I believe all you hurt is yourself."


    Molam whirled around to face the speaker, flushed with embarrassment at being caught displaying his anger. Upon recognizing the Priestess, he looked down at his feet, then exhaled and raised his eyes to meet her gaze.


    "Priestess Komura." He greeted her. "I didn''t know you relocated to Sanctuary."


    The Priestess had been in charge of Molam''s worldly education for the first few months after the Oracle had sent him out on his initial task. Her previously black hair was now visibly streaked with gray, but still cut short at her shoulders and though a few extra wrinkles had developed on her face since they had parted ways, her small eyes held the same hint of kindness that Molam rarely found elsewhere.


    "My village evacuated when the Red Army marched past, and the Oracle was kind enough to offer us all shelter in Sanctuary." She replied in a mild tone. "Perhaps we can return to the village come Spring''s Blessings if the Red Army didn''t pillage it. But for now the people I serve are here, and so I follow."


    Molam realized that of all the Priestesses within Sanctuary, it was Priestess Komura that had found him and suspicion emerged. "The Oracle sent you here. Are you here to convince me to be her tool?"


    "She sent me here to see that you were given accommodations, and to help you with whatever you wanted to do. I was not given any orders about making you her tool."


    "And what if I want to go home?" Molam challenged her with a menacing half-step forwards, his fingertips pressing into the wall. Though he wasn''t tall, Priestess Komura stood half a head shorter than him. She looked up at him with a measured gaze as he demanded, "Does she really think that you have leverage over me just because you taught me for half a year?"


    "You are asking the wrong person. I''m a Priestess. None of us are arrogant enough to presume we can begin to understand what the Oracle thinks." Priestess Komura turned to the side and began walking. "Instead, I can show you the best place in ZhiXia City to get some sweets so you do not go to bed hungry. Come along now, I wouldn''t want you to get lost."


    Molam''s frustration surged at Priestess'' retreating back. He wanted to shout at her for treating him the same way she did when they first met. But he closed his eyes and exhaled, giving the stone mural one last limp strike before allowing the arm to fall back down to his side and following the Priestess'' white robe.


    ***


    Priestess Komura guided Molam out through a side door within Sanctuary and they walked back out into ZhiXia City. The late afternoon Sun barely kept the alleys of the city warm in the shadows of the buildings, and Molam became intimately aware of his lack of warmer clothes now that he was walking outside without the spirit''s warm Domain. The material woven into his flameproof cloak did little to keep him warm in the waning days of Autumn''s Colors.


    Without a word, Priestess Komura stopped by a street seller and spoke with the owner, who readily handed a black cloak to the Priestess. She offered it to him expectantly and Molam considered refusing, but the wind made his limbs shiver and he accepted it.


    She continued to guide him through the city until they came to a bell tower. Another line crowded in front of a shop here, and Molam glanced at the sign, written in elegant strokes in the Common Tongue. It identified the shop as a confectionery that also served tea.


    "So. You succeeded, against all expectations." Priestess Komura said matter-of-factly when they finally sat down in a secluded room within the shop. She pushed a plate of colorful mochi balls in front of him and handed him a wooden toothpick. "Consider this my congratulations. Eat."


    "I only followed you here because I didn''t have anything else to do." Molam grumbled, pulling the cloak around him. Though the cloak provided no warmth like the spirit''s Domain, it was thicker than his previous one and he no longer winced whenever the wind blew. "I''m not hungry."


    She ignored him, setting out two cups and filled them with steaming tea before pushing a cup to him. "I have a penchant for their jasmine tea, so give it a try. It goes very well with their mochi."


    "I said I''m not hungry."


    The Priestess caught his gaze with her own, then slowly raised an eyebrow.


    Molam dug a toothpick into the mochi and chewed. Sweet and sticky, he tasted sugar mixed with crushed nuts.


    Priestess Komura pointed to his cup of hot tea.


    He tasted it gingerly, allowing the aroma to permeate his nose. "It''s good."


    "Good. Now listen." Priestess Komura sat back and regarded him with her beady eyes. "Five years ago, the Oracle sent a young man to me and told me to educate him on how to survive the world. While I didn''t ¡ª"


    "I''m not in the mood for reminiscing, Priestess Komura."


    Her eyes flashed. "Don''t speak with your mouth full. I taught you better than that."


    Molam chewed in resigned silence.


    "...but, I will cut to the chase." The Priestess leaned forward. "You''re not the only one that wants to go home, Molam. Ah-ah-ah," she held up a warning finger in response to Molam''s angry swallowing, "Listen. See to it that you don''t choke. Yes, I know you think it''s different between the two of us. Perhaps you think it is unfair for me to compare wanting to return to my Shrine in my village with the place I suspect you come from." She tapped her finger on the table, a steady rhythm. "But the young man I taught had conviction when he spoke to me of wanting to reduce my burden. He spoke of completing his task and then convincing RainBringer and the Oracle to help him raise an army, because he believed that he could stop the Empire of the Sun and put an end to the disasters that filled my Shrine with orphans."


    "I never asked, but I believe he himself was an unfortunate result of the very same catastrophes that the Empire of the Sun causes, and he wanted to make sure that it would never happen again." The Priestess leaned back, folding her arms into the sleeves of her white robe. "Drink some tea before you choke."


    Molam sipped with simmering anger ¡ª the tea was too hot for him to swallow bigger gulps and he had much to say. Priestess Komura watched in silence as he cleared his throat and then responded, "The Oracle knew what she was doing when she sent you to talk to me."


    Priestess Komura''s steady gaze seemed unperturbed by his combative tone. "She is the Oracle. She knows what you can do and she knows what I can do, and she asked me to show you why you need to do what you need to do."


    Molam snorted. "Because young people think the problem is simple? That the world is easy to fix?"


    The Priestess interlaced her fingers and placed her hands above her lap. "Do you no longer think it needs fixing?"


    "That''s not what I said." He jammed the toothpick into the last ball of mochi, angry at the Priestess, frustrated at himself, furious at the direction of their conversation. "You don''t know what the Oracle is really asking me to do." Molam suppressed the urge to shout, to tell Priestess Komura exactly how insurmountable the path in front of him seemed. "Do you¡­" He paused, exhaled, then met Priestess Komura''s eyes, "Do you even know what it is?"


    "I don''t, but I''m sure that it must be something that only you can do."


    "You sit there and tell me to listen to the Oracle, when you don''t even know what she asked?" Molam pounded the table hard enough for the plate and cups to shake. "You congratulated me earlier, but what part of my struggle in the past five years did you see? All you know is the result! All you know is that I''m currently here, having done it. That''s all you and anyone else sees, the part where I succeeded. But you know what you didn''t see? The depths of the journey to achieve that success ¡ª" his jaw clenched, and Molam looked down. His fist clenched; there was little possibility of danger if he told Priestess Komura he had stolen the spirit''s egg from Crimson City, but he couldn''t risk burdening her with that knowledge.


    "I won''t tell you what it was, only that it took years of planning and risking my life." His voice turned bitter. "And then having accomplished it, all I wanted was to go back to having my life to myself, not to dedicate it to what others want again. But the Oracle won''t let me. She wants me to continue putting my life on the line knowing full well of my incapabilities." He looked down at the table, eyes unfocused. "I''m tired, Priestess Komura. I''ve given my life twice already and now I just want to go home."This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    "I''m sure there''s much you want to say but cannot," The Priestess agreed, "But I do know that she wouldn''t have asked you if she thought you couldn''t do it, or that another could easily take your place. Just as I am the one here talking to you and not any other Priestess, the Oracle only asks us to do that which she knows we can do. No one can make you do anything, Molam. Only you can. I taught you that when you studied with me. But that also means only you can disappoint yourself the most, because you have to live with the decisions you make when it comes to the things you choose to do. And make no mistake: choosing not to do something is still a choice."


    She raised her arms, propping her elbows on the table between them as she laid her chin upon her interlaced fingers and continued to gaze at him with kind eyes. "I don''t know what she asked you to do this time, but I want to remind you: The Oracle only asks us to do the things we are best at. She asked me to talk to you about what you wanted in the past and I see that it will be hard to convince you to consider who you were, yet here I am, an older Priestess reminiscing with a young man. But the same task is thrust upon you: the things you are best at ¡ª are you going to walk away from them because it''s harder than you thought?"


    Before Molam could answer, a commotion broke out and the door to their room fell open with a bang, three children toppling into the room in a sprawl of flailing limbs. The oldest, a young girl with short black hair, leapt up immediately.


    "Priestess Komura!" The girl tried to redeem herself by smoothing out her clothes. "I told them not to follow you, but they insisted and ¡ª"


    "Hey, no fair, Kanao!" A boy struggled to stand up from underneath the other boy. "Get off me, Bevyn!"


    "Children!" A man rushed in and Molam recognized him from afar as the shop owner, a young man with darker skin and dark, slicked-back hair. "My apologies, Priestess Komura, I didn''t mean to allow the children to rush in, but they snuck past me at the front counter."


    "Your shop is busy and it is no fault of yours, Jiovanny," Priestess Komura waved a dismissive hand as she stood up and pulled the two boys apart, the little girl Kanao wringing her hands to the side. "Bevyn, Lee, how many times have I told you two to listen when Kanao says something might be a bad idea?"


    "It was Bevyn!"


    "Nuh uh, Lee said we should surprise you first!"


    Priestess Komura gave them an earful, but Molam stared at the shop owner now that they were up close, the name giving him pause. "Jiovanny?"


    The shop owner squinted at Molam, then opened his mouth in surprise. "Wah. Molam, right?" He beamed a crooked smile at Molam and stepped forward, holding his hand out. "I haven''t seen you since¡­oh, four? Almost five years ago when you left Komura''s Shrine!"


    "You''re so much ¡­ thinner. And now you''re the owner of a sweets shop?" Molam accepted the hand, but Jiovanny gave his hand a vigorous shake. "I thought you''d be¡­ well, I don''t know where you''d be, but I guess it never occurred to me that you left Komura''s Shrine."


    "Oh, heh, about that, yes." The man ran a sheepish hand through his hair. "I suppose I have lost some weight, now that I make sweets instead of just eating them. I left the Shrine a year after you departed," Jiovanny beamed a smile. "I didn''t know what to do with my life, but remember that old cook Sevyka? She taught me how to make sweets! Said something about if I could make it myself I wouldn''t need to steal from her. So I started making sweets and experimenting on my own and, well, people loved it. Before I knew it, the Whale of ZhiXia himself became a regular and some say mine is the most well-known confectionery in ZhiXia City!"


    "That can''t have been easy." Molam felt a giddy sense of displacement, as though he had suddenly become many years younger. "I haven''t seen you in a few years and you''ve made a name for yourself already."


    "Well, it wasn''t an easy journey. You''d think I know what makes the best sweets and desserts, given how much I love them!"


    Molam laughed at that. "That''s a given, isn''t it? You must have sampled everything sweet on this side of the Endless Sands! Surely that''s helped."


    "But there''s always so much to learn, you know?" Jiovanny pointed to the last ball of mochi on Molam''s plate. "Even if it''s just sweets, most people only eat what I make without knowing the difficulty of making it." Jiovanny''s eager smile showed a toothy, white incisor. "Honestly, I think I lost all this weight working on refining my recipes. Turns out part of the secret ingredient is just endless failures and having a good source of mochigome, eh?" Jiovanny tilted his head from side to side and winked, as though sharing a secret between just the two of them. "Don''t tell my competitors, of course ¡ª they''re dying to know how I get the springiness of my mochi just right. I bet a bulk of my sales are them stuffing their faces trying to understand it! But enough about me, what about you?"


    "I ¡­" the smile had already faded from Molam''s face halfway through Jiovanny''s sharing. "I''m trying to go home." He glanced at Komura, trying to make eye contact so she would know his disapproval of her using Jiovanny in this way, but she did not meet his gaze. Had she told Jiovanny to say this?


    Jiovanny frowned, a slow gathering of his eyebrows as he seemed confused about what Molam was trying to say. "Home?" The man asked quizzically. "If you mean our old village, I left two years ago but the rest abandoned it this Summer''s Warmth when the Red Army came too close. Is that what you''re here to talk to Priestess Komura about? Helping the village go home?"


    "No," Molam began, "I¡ª"


    "You''re going to help us get home?" One of the boys, Bevyn, collided with Molam''s thigh, gripping tightly and looking up at Molam with a smile that contained gaps between his teeth. "Really? Are you going to fight the Red Army for us?"


    Molam bent down to pull Bevyn away gently. "Fighting is a last resort, Bevyn. I don''t want to fight anyone."


    The boy brought up his hands in a fighting pose, throwing two fake punches at Molam''s arm. "But I saw the Red Army. They were practicing their moves like this. And that. It looked so cool! I wanted to do that!" He looked up at Molam again. "But Priestess Komura said we needed to go, because we can''t fight them. The Whale of ZhiXia won''t fight, and you won''t fight them. Why won''t you help us go home?"


    "Bevyn, that''s an unfair question¡ª" Jiovanny began, but Molam gave him a look.


    He knelt down to the boy, considering how to begin, then decided to be as honest as possible. "There are¡­many forms of fighting. Violence ¡ª when you hurt people ¡ª has consequences, and sometimes¡­ it results in death. And that''s a result that can''t be changed, do you understand?"


    "So you just don''t fight?"


    "Everyone fights," Molam nodded, "but not all fighting needs to be violent." He paused, then added, "Have you ever had a disagreement with someone? Even just talking can be a fight. In fact, talking is often the most important fight ¡ª because you can resolve things without violence. You wouldn''t want to live in a world where everyone used violence first, right?"


    The boy looked doubtful. "But how will talking help us get home?"


    "Home!" Whooped the other one, who had somehow overheard the last word while Priestess Komura gripped him by an ear. "Yes, I''m sorry for following you, Priestess Komura. OW, yes I mean it!"


    A small tug made Molam look down at his sleeve to be greeted by the big brown eyes of the girl Kanao. She opened her mouth, then when nothing came out, she looked down shyly.


    "Bevyn, Kanao, come here," Jiovanny ordered, "You''re bothering Molam. I know him from back when we shared a time at Komura''s Shrine, so we''re all sort of a family. But he''s here to talk to Priestess Komura about something important, I''m sure." Jiovanny winked at Molam and shepherded the children towards the door. "Come now, I''ll give each of you some dango if you promise to share it with the others back in Sanctuary, alright?"


    The door closed behind them and Priestess Komura sat back down at the table, smoothing out her robe. Molam collected his bearings and sat back down again, then realized that his plate was now empty. One of the children must have stolen the last ball of mochi.


    "I didn''t know Jiovanny could become a confectioner." Molam murmured, sipping at his tea. "Back when I was at the Shrine, I thought he was just¡­ well, I thought he just had a sweet tooth."


    "I encouraged him to pursue his passion. He said he wanted to eat the best sweets and desserts in the world, do you remember?" Priestess Komura refilled her own cup of tea and sipped. "Well, now he makes them."


    Molam didn''t say anything, the remembrance of the boys and the girl''s eyes still fresh in his mind. "A word of advice: while I doubt you had a lot of time to plan this sequence of events, compelling circumstances of ¡­" he searched for the word, "...convenience can have an opposite effect on your target. I''m not stupid, you know."


    "I have no idea what you are referring to." Priestess Komura glanced at him innocently from behind her cup, "Not to mention, plans are your area of expertise. I merely planned to take you to the shop that sells the best sweets in ZhiXia City. The children followed me of their own accord."


    "I was talking about Jiovanny." Molam''s voice lowered. "And I distinctly remember seeing you catch children following you at your old village. Or do you expect me to believe those three are different?" The Priestess didn''t respond as she sipped passively, and so he continued, "I don''t blame you for trying what you did, but I understand why you did it. But you should have already understood that I know all of this."


    "You say you know ¡ª but do you really?" Priestess Komura set down her cup, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Because once you know, you cannot unknow. Guilt taints the blissful state of ignorance, does it not? And that is why the kind will always suffer." She leaned forward and raised an eyebrow. "Or did you really think that the Shrines have stopped receiving orphans of disaster and war?"


    When Molam didn''t respond, she continued. "Lee is from the Empire of the Sun, the city of Exabell. Both of his parents died three years ago when the father refused the Empire''s draft and they became fugitives of the Empire. Bevyn is the sole survivor of a remote village in the Spike Maelstrom ¨C the mursashu found the boy wandering by himself after the Empire enraged EarthShaker four years ago. Kanao¡­" Komura hesitated. "Kanao has never spoken about what happened, but the girl cannot stand the sight of the Empire''s symbol. We moved her to Sanctuary a year ago because this is the safest place for her to never see it again."


    "For Bevyn and Lee, our old village has been the safest place they could remember for years. We abandoned the village and came here to avoid the Red Army, but Sanctuary is so new for them they can''t possibly think of it as ''home.'' For Kanao, I don''t know if she thinks of Sanctuary as her home or the village, but if the Red Army is on the march then we might see the Empire''s borders expand again soon, and I doubt Kanao is the only one out there that fears seeing the Empire''s symbol."


    "That''s a lot to be telling me at this time." Molam drank his tea, hiding his face behind the cup.


    "It''s necessary. Because the Oracle believes you can do what the Frozen Saint could not. I''m getting old, Molam. You think I want to spend the rest of my years receiving orphans only to expect more each year? Did you know that we tally them for the Fallen Star Pavilion''s scholars, and they sent notice that the number is only increasing over time?" Priestess Komura stood up and walked over to Molam, bending down on her knees and placing her hands in his lap. "I suppose it bears repeating: I cannot make you do anything. But as one that serves the people, as one that follows the Oracle''s will, I will beg you if I must."


    "For some reason, people seem to be repeating things to me quite often." Up close, Molam could see the depths of the wrinkles that framed Priestess Komura''s eyes and the creases that lined her mouth. A wistful sense of pain lurched within his navel for the woman that had taught him how to live in the human realm. "My ears still work."


    "Perhaps because it is so important to them. I''m not so arrogant as to think you would do just anything for an old woman who taught you at the Oracle''s behest. I''m asking you to do it for yourself, Molam." Her eyes glittered with moisture. "For the young man you were, become the person that he hoped he could be. And if you hold any positive memories for this aging Priestess, then I want you to do it so that those children are the last children I ever need to look after."


    Molam looked away from her ¡ª resentful and moved with sympathy at the same time. The boy Bevyn''s question echoed in his thoughts. How will talking help us get home? Molam tried shoving the question away; he didn''t even know how he would get home by talking to the Oracle. "I thought you said you didn''t know what the Oracle asked of me, but you know that it''s what the Frozen Saint failed to do." He murmured angrily. "Did you lie to me just because you know I can''t See?"


    "I honestly don''t know at all what she has asked of you." He wasn''t looking at her, but felt her warm hands hold his. "But I can guess that she would ask you to do what you are best at, Molam. Just as she asked me to do the same."


    He drained his tea. Angry at himself. Furious with the Oracle for sending Komura of all people to talk to him.


    Irritated with suspicion that they were all right.


    "Let me sleep on it."

 Ch 5: Decisions

    Empathy and compassion do not fill empty bellies.


    The morals of man fade like Autumn¡¯s Colors when survival is at stake. Only those who have faced death know the brittleness of moral principles.


    The cruelty of Creation lies in its harsh adherence to a most bitter reality.


    Beg, negotiate, petition or pray; when has the world ever changed to suit one''s sense of justice?


    ¡ª Lost Winds, by an unnamed traveler


    <hr>


    Molam entered and felt the tingling sense of something being off. The darkness within the Inner Sanctum of Sanctuary felt more muted than before. No, it was not the darkness that felt weaker ¡ª the Oracle''s glow felt stronger than yesterday''s. The pure white glow did not seem to extend any further, yet it felt as though the strength of its brilliance chased away the shadows that permeated the surroundings.


    He stood in front of the Oracle''s dais. Part of him wondered if she ever left her seat, for she was in the same position and pose as yesterday''s. Was it rude of him to wonder if the Oracle even ate? His mind wandered for a moment and his limbs shook from fatigue, having tossed and turned all night from being rushed to make a decision this close to Winter''s Sorrow. The fear of the roads closing and forcing him to wait until Spring''s Blessings to reach JiangXi drove a familiar piercing doubt into his considerations from all his past experience making hasty decisions.


    "I see you have returned, child."


    There were many things he wanted to say to the Oracle. Each and every sentence that flitted through his mind encompassed emotions that he didn''t think he would feel while walking back to ZhiXia City, flushed with the success of having successfully stolen the egg from Crimson City''s Palace and thrown off his pursuers.


    The urge to strike her and that dragon mask overwhelmed him. A single blow of resentment, one that fully demonstrated his frustration with her taking RainBringer''s side in denying him from going home because of a technicality. It infuriated him that she could sit here so pensively despite knowing full-well the weight of what she had asked him to do. His fist clenched and for a brief moment, he even believed he could do it.


    But he held himself back. Despite the depths of his irritation, he could empathize with her position in carrying out RainBringer''s command and that she had little say in the matter of opening the Stairs for him.


    "I take it you reconsidered."


    One emotion surged at her words. The feeling eclipsed the others and he allowed it to suffuse and steep within his thoughts before he finally responded, his voice a low growl.


    "I don''t like the way you used Priestess Komura against me."


    The Oracle''s head tilted to the side, as though she did not understand. "I only asked her to remind you of who you wanted to be. Was it not a good reminder?"


    "That''s not what I said," Molam took a step forward despite himself, placing a foot on the dais. "I said that I don''t like the way you used her against me."


    The dragon mask seemed fiercer, more alive in the new brightness of the Oracle''s glow. It threw the ceremonial carving and minimalistic paint into sharper relief. The expression seemed to flicker before the Oracle responded.


    "I see."


    The echoless response sent a chill down his spine and Molam remembered who exactly he stood in front of. But the earlier emotions coalesced into a bubbling pit of burning anger inside of him and he could no longer be deterred.


    "You can use me for this. For what you and RainBringer want," he lifted his chin. "RainBringer wants me to hasten the spirit''s rebirth with elderwood from the World Tree? Fine. You want me to go to JiangXi and see what I can do to control the city? Fine." He took another step, standing fully onto the dais. "The two of you want to appropriate my desire to end the Bloody Prince and the Empire''s rule for your own ends? Also fine."


    He paused, hoping the Oracle would say something, but she did not. So he continued. "Priestess Komura doesn''t know my past, and I can forgive her for not understanding the significant weight of what you''ve asked me to do." He paced slowly towards the Oracle as he continued, ignoring the shadows that leered at the edge of his vision. "But you do. And RainBringer too. Perhaps you thought that five years'' time spent among humans resulting in my success also meant that I''ve overcome my own fears. In trusting you and RainBringer, I willingly put my life in danger again, with the very same humans that betrayed me in the past." A fist clenched as resentment threatened to rebuild itself. "Only to come back and understand that I probably shouldn''t have trusted any of you in the first place."


    He stopped in front of the Oracle, looking down upon her seated form. Her black hair shimmered with the same glow, cascading neatly down her back and shoulders in an inky waterfall. It suddenly struck him how small she seemed ¡ª up close, the Oracle seemed to be barely larger than the girl Kanao. But the Oracle had lived for over a thousand years, long before even the Empire''s founding, and for a brief moment Molam wondered if her small size was due to her immense age. "I''m going to do what you asked, and then some. You probably think that so long as our desires are aligned you can use me to accomplish it. RainBringer probably thinks that there is no loss if I fail. An auraless human, and then she would never need to again suffer my presence in her beloved Castle. And if I succeed, both of you get what you''ve wanted for a long time. So I''ll go to JiangXi, and if you truly prepared what I need there then I will use it." His voice became hard, harder than he had ever needed it to be. "But I''m not doing this for you. Not for you, not for RainBringer, not for Priestess Komura because you were wrong about one thing; what I wanted is in the past and now I just want to go home. The two of you may think that you have me dancing in the palm of your hand, because I''m just an auraless human that you can use and exploit ¡ª but you forget: I''ve already died once for others. Now I live for myself and the one who saved me then. That''s neither you nor RainBringer, and I won''t become like either of you, treating others as disposable just to fulfill your own ends."


    He bent forward, lowering his head and voice at the same time. "This is my first and only warning to you, Oracle. I won''t tolerate either of you keeping me away from going home again. If I bring back the elderwood and RainBringer breaks her promise in order to keep me away from my home, you''re going to uphold her promise for her." He stared unblinking, straight into the eyeholes of the mask. "Otherwise, you''ll find that you have two humans with a determined obsession of forcing you to open the Stairs." His voice had become barely a whisper. "Do we understand each other?"


    The Oracle''s eyes glinted from behind the mask, a silver-white sheen that seemed just slightly different from the color of her glow. Her eyes met his, staring without a hint of emotion, and for a brief moment Molam almost drowned in the depths of her gaze.


    You will get what you want, boy. The phoenix manifested in a flash of flames and alighted onto his shoulder. Rein yourself in before you provoke the Leviathan.


    "I''m merely explaining that I expect her to uphold her promise when I return."


    It will be done. The phoenix looked at the Oracle. Those of us that suffer eternity take promises quite seriously.


    "Good. I will hold you to that." Molam turned his attention back to the Oracle and allowed the silence to linger before he broke it again. "I suppose you aren''t going to send me to JiangXi with nothing?"


    "You will have the color of my approval to hide your auraless state." The Oracle''s voice seemed uncharacteristically soft.


    Molam straightened back up, looking down coolly. "I hope you''ve prepared for me more help than the color of your approval? Perhaps an army? I can''t carry back such a large amount of elderwood by myself. What can you tell me about JiangXi and why it''s the city you''ve chosen to set things up in?"A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    "You have been there before."


    "Yes, but I am looking for your reasoning." Molam pressed. "Surely you don''t think I''m going to ride up to the city like a Titled One and demand their stockpile of elderwood? I know you have your restrictions, but need I remind you I have my own?"


    Your tone, the spirit chastised.


    "I allow it. The child is simply being thorough." The Oracle''s eyes pondered Molam from behind that mask, then she said, "As a border city revolving around trade with the Free Cities, the people there are under the influence of different ideas and cultures. You have been there once before, and you will utilize it well. The new City Lord of JiangXi is worth learning about, and the Red Army just drafted a fresh round of recruits from each city." She paused. "Go and look for a woman named Primrose."


    Molam committed the Oracle''s information to mind. "Is there a family name? Multiple people can share a name, you know."


    "Not one that she would answer to. Take care of whom you reveal your status to and tell Primrose you are looking for flowers that bloom in flames."


    "I''m not sure if that''s supposed to be helpful." He raised an eyebrow.


    She seemed to not notice his jibe. "And a feather of the Fiery One." She lifted a slender arm and shook out a flowing sleeve, causing a burnt-orange feather to drift out. With a gesture, the feather floated towards Molam, who received it with an open palm.


    One of my few feathers from a previous life. It can serve as a link for me to accompany you and protect you until the aura we imbued it with expires.


    Molam smiled. "And here I thought I was finally rid of your pompous companionship." He would never admit it, but the spirit''s companionship had been a welcome addition to his lonely travels in the human realm. "It looks like I''ll need to tolerate your presence for however long it takes for me to go home then."


    One such as you should be grateful for the opportunity to travel with even my feather. Even during the Eternal Night there was no lack of humans that beseeched my blessings.


    "Yes, yes, the blessing of being able to worship the Fiery One, is that it?" Molam paused. "The Prince is still looking for you. Will this be a problem?"


    Merely a feather. And aura that most Titled Ones wouldn''t recognize.


    Tucking the feather into his pocket, Molam looked at the Oracle and bowed, not as deeply as before. "Is that all?" The words seemed irreverent coming out of his mouth, but he no longer cared for decorum. This would be an exchange, nothing more and nothing less.


    "You may receive help befitting a messenger of Sanctuary, but that is all I am allowed to give you." The Oracle''s eyes were no longer visible from behind the mask. "May the Gods guide you." Her normally toneless voice carried a hint of finality and Molam did not want to stay any longer.


    "Remember your promise." He turned around and headed for the door leading back into Sanctuary.


    <hr>


    Molam found Priestess Komura standing outside, bowing deeply to the door that led to the Inner Sanctum.


    "You didn''t have to wait for me." He stepped out of the darkness and back into the candlelight.


    Only when the door had fully closed did she straighten herself. "Congratulations. It is my understanding that you have been appointed a messenger of Sanctuary."


    Part of him wanted to step forward and hug her and tell her that he would see to it that her worries and burdens could be reduced. The other part of him wanted to rage at her for being complicit in the Oracle''s plans. Both feelings stemmed from her being one of the few humans he could trust.


    "There''s nothing to congratulate me on. Just a position she gave me to enable me to do what she wants in the first place. Are you here to see to it that the Oracle''s will is carried out?"


    "The Priestesses have been instructed to give you any aid necessary so you can do what you need to do."


    "So I can do what I need to do." Molam echoed. He pressed a palm against the stone walls, feeling the chiseled murals beneath his fingers as he failed to summon the energy to glare at her. That she chose to follow the Oracle''s will gave him only the numbing certainty of betrayal, a feeling that could only ever come from those you trusted. "And I thought you considered me one of yours. That you cared, not because the Oracle commanded you, but because you genuinely¡­" He looked away, staring at the mural he touched. A chiseled representation of the famed Hero and the creation of the Sun. "I thought you were different from the rest."


    "I do care for all my children," she said simply. "That is why I am here. Shall I guide you to the stables and help you select a horse?"


    "No." Molam looked down, his vision blurring in the candlelight before he turned around and walked away from the Priestess, having memorized the twists and turns they took this time in order to reach the Inner Sanctum. "I''m tired. Let me rest for a day, and bring me reading materials on JiangXi. I assume ZhiXia City has a Library?"


    "Certainly." The Priestess''s kind voice echoed at him from behind. "Do you require anything else?"


    "Help me prepare travel funds and dried food that will last me on my trip to JiangXi. And some of Jiovanny''s sweets would be nice to wake up to in the afternoon."


    <hr>


    "Alone to JiangXi? That''s too dangerous." The young Priestess overseeing Sanctuary''s stable frowned as she handed Molam the reins to their fastest horse. "Even with this horse, you''ll need at least three days to see the Jadeite Cliffs."


    Molam accepted the reins with a loose hand, reaching to the horse and stroking its head gently. The mare snorted, flattening its ears at his touch. Moments later, the mare''s ears perked up before it reared its head enough to lick at his hand.


    As he allowed the mare to become accustomed to him, Molam contemplated the journey he faced. The Priestess'' warning had merit. Though he desperately needed to arrive in JiangXi, it was even more important that he arrived safely. His lack of aura made it far too dangerous for him to travel by himself.


    "What do you suggest? I need to reach JiangXi before Winter''s Sorrow."


    "The Pavilion hasn''t announced the prediction of Winter''s Sorrow for the year yet." The Priestess pressed her lips together in contemplation, then looked at him. "There might be a few merchant caravans you can join that might still be traveling to JiangXi this close to Winter''s Sorrow."


    "Where can I find them?"


    Molam thanked the Priestess for preparing the horse and checked the contents of his pack before heading out to ZhiXia City in search of the merchants. He found them at the city''s outskirts, and after a round of questions found one that was in the final process of leaving.


    The caravan''s leader, a ruddy and thick-haired merchant by the name of Galven, gave Molam an appraising look, then glanced at the symbol of Sanctuary woven into the riding pad on the mare''s back.


    "I won''t refuse a messenger from Sanctuary, but we haven''t any spare food or resources for you. This trip to JiangXi was not planned with you in mind."


    "I''ll be responsible for myself." Molam assured Galven, who nodded.


    "Three rules for traveling in my caravan. Follow directions. Pick up after yourself. Steal and I take the hand responsible." Galven narrowed an eye at Molam, then snorted. "Though I suppose no one associated with Sanctuary would need to steal. Oh, and don''t get in the way of the bodyguards. They were hired to do a job and they are going to do it. You understand?"


    Galven didn''t wait for Molam to acknowledge the warning before he left and continued shouting at the rest of the caravan to finalize their packing. Molam, already prepared with just his light pack, offered to help a passing man with the cargo as they loaded the final items into Galven''s sixteen wagons.


    "Thanks," the gruff man grunted as the two of them hefted a heavy box up to the wagon. "At least you''re doing far more than the hired muscle."


    He tilted his head towards the bodyguards, and Molam observed them out of the corner of his eyes as they finished piling up the wagon. Four in total, wearing fur-lined cloaks. Two of them, both men, watched Galven''s merchants in silence while holding onto the reins of their own horses with an expression of silent boredom. The other two, a man and a woman, sipped quietly at steaming mugs of tea while sitting down at a table. They faced different directions ¡ª by design or coincidence Molam could not tell ¡ª and he couldn''t help but feel that a piercing gaze from one of them monitored him from earlier.


    "Perhaps they''re merely conserving strength," Molam tore his eyes away from them, turning to help the man arrange the box in the wagon for space.


    "Hmph, a fine excuse to slack off." The man stretched his back and rotated his shoulders as they surveyed the leftover space. "Four masters. They better be worth the price."


    Only when Galven gave the call to move out did the bodyguards move to mount their horses and split up; two to the head of the group and two in the back.


    The Sun had fully risen when Galven''s caravan left the outskirts of ZhiXia City with Molam riding abreast the last wagon, two of the bodyguards trailing several paces behind.


    "Isn''t it usually two bodyguards per caravan?" Molam asked the gruff man, who introduced himself as Yolven.


    "Usually, but there''s been rumors of the UnSeen targeting the roads near JiangXi." Yolven barely held onto the reins of the two horses pulling his wagon, as though he trusted the horses to simply follow the wagon in front of them.


    Molam frowned at the name. "A group of bandits?"


    "Mere bandits wouldn''t require four bodyguards." Yolven glanced at the two behind them. "The UnSeen are supposedly led by an anima the merchants have taken to calling GloomSire."


    "Gloom¡­Sire." The absurdity of the name made Molam stare at Yolven for a long moment. "Did a child come up with this name?"


    "The travelers he left alive came up with it." Yolven shrugged. "Something about the quality of his Domain, I think?"


    "If that Title becomes permanent, he may regret leaving any survivors."


    "Ha!" Yolven guffawed, slapping the reins. "Reputations are for those that leave survivors, eh? Keep that in mind if you ever think of excelling at anything then, young man. Titled Ones rarely choose their own Titles."


    By the end of the first day, YiZhi Mountain disappeared into the horizon, and the clouds that hid the Castle in the Sky became a mere speck in the distance. Molam found himself staring in its direction in the distance even as a golden dusk set in.


    Leave it to a human to reminisce about where he left rather than think about where he should be.


    Molam ignored the spirit''s voice in his head. Seeing his memories and understanding them were two different things.

 Ch 6: Travel

    What a person believes caused their loss tells you what they are.


    What a person believes caused their success tells you who they are.


    ¡ª Excerpt from Meditations, by the Red Emperor


    <hr>


    Yolven proved to be a great conversation partner as they traveled along the road, trading stories with Molam about the places they''d been and comparing their favorite delicacies. To Molam''s surprise, Galven''s caravan covered a great distance even while encumbered with their goods. When the second night fell, the group expertly encircled the caravans and built a small fire in the middle while others prepared the food. In the morning, it took little effort for the merchants to gather their things and put the caravan back on the road.


    "So," Molam became curious of the clanging noises occasionally jingling from within Yolven''s wagon. "What do you sell?"


    Yolven set aside the reins and reached into his wagon, then pulled out a gleaming helmet. "Wrought iron. Recently perfected in Zaem."


    Molam frowned as he accepted the helmet and inspected it. "I thought alchemists were banned from ironworks."


    Yolven snorted. "That''s Techoria, following the old rules written by Flangel the Wise. Zaem was founded because some alchemists believe they should be free to pursue their own alchemic way."


    Molam returned the helmet to the merchant, who stowed it away. "Flangel the Wise has carried that Title for more than three centuries. Don''t you agree with his reasoning for banning ironworks?"


    "The stated reason is that it would accelerate the use of alchemy in war but Zaem points out that Flangel the Wise''s own greatest creation is the SunFlower. And what is it made of?" Yolven shrugged. "Well, no one knows, as Flangel the Wise has never revealed it, but it gleams alright."


    Molam shifted his mare, avoiding a hole in the ground and pointing it out to Yolven. The merchant moved his horse to the side and navigated his wagon around the hole.


    They cleared it before Molam said, "The SunFlower is Techoria''s method for defending itself."


    Yolven gave Molam a look, then pointed to the short sword at Molam''s side. "No matter how you look at them, things that we use to defend ourselves are also weapons, my friend."


    "That helmet of yours is only a good weapon if one vigorously uses their head."


    The merchant guffawed and Molam smiled. "That''s a good one. You''re right. Not everything used for defense can become a weapon. Here," Yolven reached back into his wagon and pulled out a dull armguard before tossing it to Molam. "Take this, I don''t know how well a messenger fights but I''m sure that you would prefer to not use that sword."


    Molam stared at the armguard. "I can''t pay for this."


    "Keep it. They''re normally sold in pairs but that''s the odd one out, and I''m not returning to Exabell anytime soon, so treat it as my thanks for telling me your stories about Hjornheim and your time with Mursa Khan''s caravan. Merchants buy and sell information all the time, and you''ve given this old man some thoughts about what else I should bring to the Northern Tribes if I ever make my way there again." After a moment, Yolven added slyly, "You did mention that you visited the Fallen Star Pavilion in the past?"


    "I''ll talk about my time with them tonight," Molam promised, tightening the armguard on his left arm while guiding his horse with his knees. "But let me tell you, scholars want very little. Besides more books, more scrolls, more ink, and more brushes."


    "Oh everybody wants, young man. Sometimes you simply need to show them something they didn''t even know they wanted. Like the stories of your travels."


    ***


    On the evening of the fourth day, they broke camp at the edge of the Slumbering Forest. Dusk settled in and Molam joined the group bent about the Forest''s edge to pick up kindling for their nightly campfire.


    They did not enter the Forest itself, and as night fell the trees also sank into silence. Only the solitary hooting of an owl echoed through the distance, and Molam helped the merchants set aside kindling near the starting embers to dry. Some of the women aided the men in distributing dried food, but the caravan''s cook stirred at a metal pot above a smaller fire while surrounded by several children.


    The pensive watching as the group went about their duties almost relaxed Molam when the spirit''s voice echoed in his head.


    The group is being watched.


    Molam looked up in time to see one of the auramasters gallop past him towards Galven. Moments later, Galven''s voice rang throughout the group.


    "On your guard! Bandits! Get the wagons into a circle!"


    Molam appreciated that the merchants themselves did not panic as they wrangled their horses and wagons according to Galven''s orders. Molam gave Yolven a brief nod as they passed each other. The man''s weathered wrinkles seemed to etch deeper into his face in the gathering darkness, giving him a grim look as the merchant maneuvered his wagon into the forming circle with the others.


    Unsheathing his short sword and securing his armguard, Molam hesitated before he pulled out the feather and tucked it into the armguard, wrapping it neatly around his wrist. He then glanced towards the auramasters to look at where they focused their attention. The auramasters had arrayed themselves into a formation facing the Forest. Three of them ¡ª two men and the woman ¡ª occupied the space between the caravan and the Forest, the two men sitting atop their horses. The woman was off to the side at the edge of the circle, her spear held at the ready. The final man leapt off his horse to stand atop the roof of a wagon, a bow nocked and ready.


    All of them gazed intently into the Forest itself. Unlike its daytime verdant self, the Slumbering Forest gave off a foreboding silence in the darkness of the night. He avoided looking at it too intently, the memory of the spirit''s warning echoing through his head. Only the sound of the horses neighing punctuated the silence as it seemed the entire group dared not breathe. Moments passed and the wind rustled through the trees in the night, and by the time Molam realized that he felt no wind against his skin the first bodies thumped dully against the ground.


    The torches and flames scarcely lit up the shadows leaping through the darkness and the earlier silence gave way to muffled shouting. A low rumbling shook through the encampment and something large sailed through the air, a messy tangle of legs that neighed and whinnied in pain upon landing.


    Above.


    Molam brought his arm above him and the blade bounced off his armguard, the impact sending his arm numb.


    The assailant flipped in the air and landed atop a nearby wagon, the dagger gleaming a burnished red in the light of the campfire. Molam steeled his numb arm to the side, bringing up his sword arm in a guarding stance. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    "An auramaster?" he questioned under his breath, wincing as his horse shifted to the side without warning, banging the armguard against a knee and sending pinpricks up his arm. He struggled to bring the nervous mare under control. She was trained to be a fast horse, not a warhorse.


    Weaker than the hired help. But still enough for all three to overwhelm you.


    "All three¡ª?" His horse reared onto its hind legs as the ground beneath them erupted, a black-clad figure leaping out of the hole and the swinging dagger narrowly missing Molam''s neck as his horse pranced backwards several paces. Losing his balance, Molam rolled backwards and broke his fall with the riding mat, the impact knocking the breath out of his lungs. Somewhere during his fall he had lost grip of his sword. Scrambling back onto his feet, Molam took a defensive stance with his armguard raised, sparing a glance to survey the situation.


    Chaos reigned within the perimeter of wagons. Flickering shadows danced from the gaps left between the wagons. Molam had little time to confirm which of Galven''s merchants were still alive when the assailants on the wagons leapt at him again. The distance and speed of their approach surprised him, causing his heart to leap into his throat as he fell backwards. Metal flashed in the darkness and Molam could only stare at impending death when a spear impaled both assailants in midair, knocking them askew.


    The female bodyguard walked into his vision, glancing at him on the ground as she grasped at her spear and tore it from the two bodies.


    "Thank you," Molam gasped as he rolled onto his feet. "I never ¨C"


    The spear shot forward and grazed Molam''s ear, stopping him mid-sentence. A choking sound came from behind him, and Molam whirled around to see the third assailant grasping at the spear lodged in their throat.


    "I see Sanctuary doesn''t appoint messengers based on battle prowess," the woman pulled her spear back, using a leg to kick the body off the spear. "To think you''d have trouble with this level of riffraff. Were you picked based on your ability to talk?"


    A pillar of flame shot up into the air from the middle of the encircled wagons, crashing downwards and condensing into thick threads of fire that snaked throughout the area, snagging bodies clad in black clothes. The flames themselves outlined one of the men, standing in front of the campfire as he bent them to his will, setting only their black-clad attackers on fire. The man with the bow fired arrow after arrow at bodies that ran about on fire, and the third man was nowhere to be seen.


    "You can tell these UnSeen are limited to basic physical reinforcement if they can''t even prevent Lukas'' flames."


    "Shouldn''t you¡­help them?" Molam dusted himself off, looking for his sword.


    "No help is necessary." The woman shrugged as she stepped with him. "What are you doing?"


    "Looking for my dropped sword." Molam bent down, looking for a glimmer of light reflecting off the ground in the hopes that it would be his blade. "It seemed a lot more hopeless in the beginning."


    "Only because their plan made excellent use of their numbers and opportunity." The woman stamped the butt of her spear against the ground twice, then walked off to the side and came back with his short sword, handing it to him pommel first. Molam accepted the sword without taking his eyes off her, but the woman glanced back towards the encampment and took in the scene of her companions cleaning up the assailants. "But after the initial surprise, well..." she grinned, white teeth glimmering in the dark. "Rats can only do so much against wolves."


    "Thank you. For the sword. And for saving me earlier. Both." Molam blew the dirt off the handle and wiped his hand on his jerkin. A gloved hand extended into his vision.


    "Name''s Puhraya." She introduced herself. "A bodyguard specializing in the Spear position, but I''d assume even a child is smart enough to recognize that." She tilted her chin towards the arm holding her spear.


    "Molam." He found her handshake strong and restrictive, evidence of years of training with the spear. "And to think I thought you were¡­" Molam paused, searching for the right phrase as Puhraya turned her gaze on him. He settled for the next best. "Difficult to approach."


    "Oh, don''t mistake this for being friendly." She twirled her spear with a flourish. "Galven pays good money but that," she pointed to his riding mat on the ground, its dull creamy color highlighted against the darkness. "I''ve always wanted to wear Sanctuary''s symbol on my back. I might not have been chosen to serve as a Priestess, but if you could put in a word with the Whale of ZhiXia, I can consider our tabs even."


    Molam couldn''t help but admire her naked honesty. "I''ll see what I can do."


    "Mmmhm." Puhraya pulled back her spear and gestured for the two of them to move. "Now, let''s regroup with the others. Galven''s going to be a pain if ¨C"


    Molam glimpsed her eyes widen just as she looked up above them, her spear shaft blocking the blow but knocking her off her feet. The wind rushed past them and the woman somersaulted in midair, pushing herself away from the ground with a hand and landing on her feet with the spear at the ready. Dropping down into a crouch, Molam scanned the night sky and saw nothing of what had attacked.


    An owl. And more.


    "What?" Molam fumbled with his grip on his sword, unable to process the speed at which everything was changing. "What owl? What more? Why can''t you tell me before ¨C"


    A rumbling roar deafened the night, echoing through the wagons and Molam flinched in response with his hands over his ears and his eyes closed. He felt, rather than heard, several heavy objects crash into the ground about him, the tremors jolting at his entire body. Dust smothered his face and he coughed, hearing it the way he heard the spirit speak in his head rather than with his ears.


    Get up, boy. The spirit''s voice echoed in the background of his own choking gasps.


    Molam''s voice sounded muffled in his own head and the ringing in his ears continued unabated. "Are you going to help?"


    Warmth flooded his body, then intensified into a searing heat that caused his skin to itch. The feeling disappeared almost just as swiftly and with a start, Molam realized his ears were no longer ringing.


    "Finally," Molam murmured, pushing himself up to his feet again for what must have been the third time. He glanced at the destruction strewn about him and swallowed the rest of his words, taking a defensive stance again. It was one thing to be fully healed. It was another to think that he could contribute to the defense of Galven''s caravan. Given the level of destruction, his mind immediately considered the worst.


    "Is there a Domain?" he demanded, no longer willing to wait for the spirit to decide when it wanted to volunteer information.


    None established.


    But the owl and the roar from earlier filled his mind with possibilities. Yolven had mentioned an anima, one that was effectively being called a Titled One. Molam struggled to sort his thoughts as he ran back to the wagons to survey the situation.


    Most of the wagons were aflame, and the circle had been broken through. The telltale sign of scattered boxes and splintered wood told Molam exactly what caused the thudding from earlier. But his eyes were drawn towards the giant beast that fought with the three auramasters in the center of the circle.


    The four-legged beast stood taller than the wagons, a bodyguard''s figure clamped tightly around a muzzle full of gnashing teeth. Black fur streaked with gold flecks covered its entire body and long neck, and the twin wings beat back the flames that flew in the air as heavy paws batted away any of the other two auramasters'' attempts to engage it. A bifurcated tail whipped about as the beast tried to dislocate the one keeping its jaws shut, glowing dark-blue eyes flashing full of anger and rage.


    Ah, a pixiu. Quite a specimen of its kind too. Comparable to the Prince''s own.


    Unlike the spirit, Molam did not have the leisure to appreciate the pixiu''s terrifying beauty as it reared upon its hind legs, wings flapping and paws beating away at the determined auramasters. The beating wings spread the embers from the campfire towards Molam''s direction and he covered his face instinctively, the rolling embers pelting into his flameproof clothes. Unwilling to risk staying in the firefight, he dashed away from the commotion in search of safety.


    Go no further. Stop!


    He ground to a halt at the edge of the Forest, and the very next moment something thumped into the earth in front of his feet. The blade gleamed a dull red in reflection of the wagons on fire behind him, and Molam looked towards the Forest where it had been thrown from.


    Shadows stood at the edge, hidden within the darkness, but it wasn''t them that had caused the spirit to bark a warning into his mind. No, Molam looked up and saw the figure that stood atop a thick tree limb at the edge of the Forest. The person wore simple clothes in a similar fashion to the shadowy assailants from earlier, though Molam''s attention was fixated upon the glowing dark-blue eyes that bore down upon him.


    "That''s an interesting color."


    The voice, unmistakably male, floated down to Molam and his blood ran cold. The weight of that person''s gaze hung over his head and Molam had the impression of a restrictive noose tightening around his neck with each forced intake of breath. Though he could not see it, the heavy pressure demanding he fall down to his knees reminded him of all the times he had been allowed in the presence of the other dragons when they visited RainBringer in the Castle.


    Molam fought the urge to breathe in and instead exhaled out, allowing the air to escape from his lungs until his body took in breath on instinct. The desire to live momentarily overpowered the heavy aura hanging over him and he found the will to speak.


    "You must be the one they call GloomSire."

 Ch 7: Choice

    We are all just a few decisions away from becoming the ones we fear or pity.


    ¡ª Excerpt from Meditations, by the Red Emperor


    <hr>


    If the man had any thoughts about his potential Title, he did not react to it. A flutter of wings and a large black owl flew into view, depositing a cream-colored mat into the man''s arms. Those dark-blue eyes glanced down at the mat as the owl perched onto a nearby branch, settling and weighing down the branch. Even the owl''s eyes glowed dark-blue in the night.


    If your life is in danger, I will intervene. The spirit''s reassurance seemed less solid when Molam realized that its voice sounded like a whisper in his head, but he had little time to consider it.


    "I hadn''t heard that a messenger from Sanctuary would be traveling with Galven''s caravan." The man glanced at the symbol of Sanctuary embroidered onto the riding mat and for a moment the oppressive weight of his gaze lifted. Then those dark-blue eyes bore down on him and the air around him compressed. The earlier sensation of restricted breathing crept into his chest and the very air in his lungs took on a clammy chill, as though he were breathing the midnight air in a mausoleum.


    "And why would one carrying the Oracle''s own color be heading to JiangXi, a city of the Empire?"


    The pressure lifted slightly, and Molam took it as a sign that the man was giving him a chance to live. Doing his best to seem unperturbed by the earlier sensation, he answered truthfully.


    "The Oracle sent me to see if JiangXi can be freed."


    The other shadows within the Forest murmured amongst themselves as GloomSire''s dark-blue gaze hardened. The man whistled and the shadowy figures behind him leapt towards the burning wagons. The man himself dropped down from the trees without a sound and began walking towards him.


    The heavy presence approaching him seemed to smother the very air in an entirely different manner compared to the dust he choked on earlier. Something reminded him of encountering a wide river in the darkest of nights ¨C one misstep and he would slip into an abyss of nothingness.


    Molam shifted his weight onto his back foot without thinking at the man''s silent gait and felt a presence behind him, jolting him around. He found himself looking up at the pixiu, its dark-blue eyes glimmering down at him with a cold gaze.


    The pixiu sniffed at him and growled, showing teeth coated with saliva. A whiff of the tangy smell of blood emanated from its mouth, and Molam looked beyond the beast to see GloomSire''s men putting out the fires while salvaging what they could from the wagons. None of the bodyguards were anywhere in sight.


    "My bond thinks you smell like EarthShaker."


    Molam whirled around again at the closeness of the voice, coming face to face with GloomSire, but he stepped to the side so that his back was not turned to the pixiu.


    "I do?" he asked warily, struggling to shy away from that mouth of teeth as it sniffed at him.


    Another sniff, and then a snort. "He says he must be mistaken." GloomSire held a gloved hand up, and the pixiu padded over to him, the ends of its tail swishing to hit Molam''s ear as it lowered its head so its master could stroke it. "Forgive my bond. He has a vendetta with EarthShaker."


    Up close, GloomSire stood half a head taller than Molam. In the dying light of the fire behind him, Molam could see that GloomSire kept his entire body wrapped in black clothing, revealing only his two eyes that glowed a dark-blue in the night. On his waist was a black sash with several daggers outlined faintly against his body. The man''s eyes gazed down upon him and Molam resisted the urge to stand taller, thinking of it instead as forcing the man to look downwards. Molam exhaled before he responded. "I can understand that."


    GloomSire regarded Molam with an intense and silent gaze before he continued. "I have no intention of disrupting the Oracle''s plans. But to free a city¡­" GloomSire stroked at the pixiu''s snout, his eyes never leaving Molam''s. "Should we expect a repeat of Kamisukawa?"


    Kamisukawa. The last city to break away from the Empire of the Sun made its attempt almost a century ago at the height of its golden years. According to the records in the Fallen Star Pavilion, the resulting Massacre of Kamisukawa and subsequent River''s Burning in the same night cemented the Prince''s Title within the Free Cities as the Bloody Prince. Molam had passed by the remnants of the burnt city and seen it from afar ¨C an ashen ruin that even the spirits of nature did not reclaim. All attempts to restore the land were forbidden by the Empire, making Kamisukawa an obvious warning to all of the penalty the Bloody Prince enacted upon cities that dared to disrespect the Empire''s rule.


    "The Oracle did not tell me what to expect, only where to go and what to seek." Molam responded simply in front of those glowing dark-blue eyes. Though there was no indication that GloomSire belonged to the select few that could See lies, Molam did not want to worsen his precarious situation any further.


    "And what did she tell you to seek?"


    Molam hesitated at the man''s pointed question. The Oracle''s words surfaced in his mind yet even there, it did not echo. Was it something that only he should know?


    Tell him.


    The spirit''s prodding bolstered his decision. "The Oracle told me to ''Find the flower that blooms in flames.''"


    GloomSire regarded him in silence, deep in thought.


    "A curious idea, as I have never heard of such a thing." GloomSire seemed to shrug. "But then again, her cryptic way of giving advice would align with my experience."


    "You speak as though you''ve met her."


    The pixiu growled at Molam, its damp breath washing over his face and he smelled blood. Molam ignored the pixiu''s dark-blue eyes, fixating his gaze on GloomSire''s averted gaze.


    When GloomSire finally responded, he still did not look towards Molam. "I met her last Summer''s Warmth. She told me to ''wait in the sleeping forest for the winds to blow'' and I have been here ever since."


    Assuming GloomSire was telling him the truth, Molam could also make no sense of what the Oracle''s words meant.


    "That is difficult to unravel," he admitted. "I don''t think it''s windless in the Slumbering Forest?"


    "Of course not. A large swathe of it even went up in flames almost two weeks ago. Thank the Gods that RainBringer acted swiftly to put it out." GloomSire shook his head. "I''ve found that the breeze blows freely in the Forest but what I am waiting for has yet to come to pass. At times I wonder whether I''m in the wrong forest."This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    A brief sense of curious kinship with GloomSire claimed Molam. Two people who had met the Oracle and were carrying out her plans without having much of a say.


    "The legends never speak about how cryptic the Oracle can be," he murmured, and GloomSire''s chin gave the barest of nods.


    A few shouts echoed through the night sky and Molam turned on instinct to see the UnSeen dragging people out of their hiding places. With a start, Molam recognized one of them as Yolven. The moment between him and GloomSire broke ¨C and Molam remembered their present situation.


    "Rest assured; the UnSeen have no interest in bringing the Oracle''s ire upon us or give the Whale a reason to pay us a visit," GloomSire pondered Molam before continuing. "One more question then. Was Galven''s caravan involved in her plans?"


    Molam hesitated, Yolven''s armguard feeling heavy on his arm. For a brief moment the temptation to lie manifested itself as a lump in his throat. If he just lied and said that Galven''s group formed a part of the Oracle''s plans, perhaps the group could be saved. Even Puhraya''s request could still be fulfilled.


    But GloomSire''s dark-blue eyes glowed at him and Molam felt compelled to answer truthfully. "No. I traveled with them for safety." He glanced at the UnSeen. "From ¡­ bandits. I''m not a fighter."


    "That much is obvious." The pixiu snorted and laid down, eyes glowering at Molam from behind its master. GloomSire held out the riding mat towards Molam. "There are no other dangers between here and JiangXi, only the ones you were traveling with. You can be on your way or stay with us, though we have some things to clean up." He tilted his head towards the caravan. "Your choice."


    "My horse is gone, so I will need to search for it." Molam accepted the riding mat but looked despondently towards Yolven as GloomSire''s words echoed in his mind. There are no other dangers ¡­ only the ones you were traveling with. There was no sign of Puhraya, but then Molam remembered. He had last seen Puhraya right before the spirit warned of the owl, and then he had seen the owl fly to GloomSire.


    His words came out of his mouth before he could stop himself. "Surely all you need is to take their goods and merchandise?"


    Those dark-blue eyes glittered at him. "They''re merchants heading to JiangXi, and all of them know about you. You are traveling to the Empire while bearing Sanctuary''s sigil ¨C and while marked by that curious color. Did you think that made you untouchable in the Empire? Were you not educated about what happened to the Frozen Saint?"


    The full extent of the situation struck Molam as he looked at the remnants of Galven''s caravan and a bruised Galven looked back at him. GloomSire''s assessment brought back the wispy echo of a memory he thought he had long forgotten, of a village that he had once belonged to, of people that he had once trusted.


    Yolven''s words surfaced in his mind. Merchants buy and sell information all the time. If Galven was trading in JiangXi, then information was for sale as well. No doubt the Empire would be vastly interested in the Oracle''s messenger and what he would be doing.


    Molam berated himself internally for not understanding that his circumstances were not the same as the one during his years of travel. For the past few days, he had not been a lone traveler only those able to See would consider curious. He had been riding from ZhiXia City to JiangXi atop a horse bearing Sanctuary''s sigil. Puhraya''s request¡­Yolven''s cozying up to him¡­Galven''s allowance of his joining despite the merchant''s obvious misgivings. Things had changed, but he had not treated it so.


    GloomSire glanced at Molam and then reached out to lay a heavy hand on Molam''s shoulder. "They''re merchants, loyal to nothing but their pockets. Did you really think that Galven wasn''t thinking of selling word to JiangXi''s new City Lord that the Oracle had sent a messenger to the city? Any man can rationalize that the sale of information is innocent enough, and what the Empire does with that knowledge has nothing to do with him." The Titled One''s hand patted Molam on the back. "For you to do what you need to do, you must know what you''re willing to abandon."


    Molam turned his head, determined to look away from Yolven. The low-burning embers that remained within the campfire seemed to dance with the murmuring chant in the back of his mind. A chant that called for rain and for wealth, if RainBringer would accept the boy that the villagers were about to burn.


    "I think it''s best I get to JiangXi alone." The words seemed almost foreign to him as he spoke them. "But my horse¡­"


    His mare trotted out of the darkness towards them, eyes glowing a dark-blue. GloomSire raised a hand to caress its brow and pressed his forehead to the mare''s in silence. "She''s fine. Just a tad spooked, but I know she will take you to JiangXi safely. Here, allow me to help you onto your horse."


    Molam could barely register the shouts of anger as the UnSeen tied up the remnants of Galven''s caravan while he readjusted the riding mat on top of his horse. It was all he could do to ignore the sounds as he prepared to mount the mare again. Were they pleas for help or the chanting of prayer? It was beginning to blend and sound all the same in his mind.


    He turned to GloomSire, the burning remnants of the campfire throwing a large shadow onto the ground now and found himself staring into the dark-blue eyes of the owl perched upon GloomSire''s shoulder. His motions felt sluggish, as though his body was submerged in cold water that weighed him down by his very clothes.


    I was right to join you.


    His wrist flared with heat and Molam jolted to his senses. He looked down to see GloomSire stroking the mare''s mane again with a tender look, then tapped her on the middle of her head and the glow expired from the horse''s eyes. He looked to Molam, the earlier gentle expression gone from his face. "A small gift. I wonder ¨C did you break free of that from your own fortitude or the Oracle''s protection?"


    "You call that a gift? You reminded me of something I wanted to forget." Molam bit his lip in anger before responding with gritted teeth. "I see why they call you GloomSire."


    "Forget?" The man''s lips curled. "Be careful, messenger of the Oracle. What better gift can you give someone besides preparing them for their own survival?" He leaned in close and Molam shivered at those dark-blue eyes. "While I do trust the Oracle''s judgment, you have already disappointed me once. I hope forcing you to remember will keep you alive in the future." GloomSire''s voice took on a harder tone that made Molam''s blood run cold again. "You might be able to forgive. But never, ever, forget. Consider it ¡­ sincere advice, from another that has met the Oracle."


    Molam held out his hand for the reins. "I should go."


    "A wise choice." GloomSire passed the reins to Molam and then another hand held out the cloak he had received from Priestess Komura. "Before I forget; your mare is quite patient, but she does ask that you loosen up on the reins, if you will?"


    Wrapping the cloak around himself, Molam mounted the horse wordlessly and adjusted himself atop the riding mat before guiding the horse away from the campsite. The light of the burning caravans receded behind him until he turned a bend around the Slumbering Forest and all he had was moonlight.


    Molam nudged the mare into a brisk trot that broke into a full gallop. He urged his horse faster as though he could outrun the images in his mind, yet the rhythmic clatter of the horse''s hooves against the trail did nothing to silent the echoing pleas for help that he left behind. The wind rushed past his ears and the moonlit path stretched ahead into darkness and Molam closed his eyes, his vision blurry as he lied to himself that he had no choice, that he could bury the burning shame of making a decision he hated.


    ***


    Molam drowned in darkness, his nose filled with soot and smoke as the flames seared around his frame. The bonfire illuminated the crowd as they watched him burn, their chanting voice of prayer invaded his ears and reverberated in his mind.


    "We pray to Rainbringer for rain! For a long life with good health!"


    He found himself in a smaller form, struggling with the rope that bit into his wrists, his neck, and his legs and chafed against his bleeding skin. Try as he might, all the biting against the gag and rope only served to chafe the corners of his mouth. Pleading with his eyes accomplished nothing, and when his limbs struggled against the bonds it only served to split his dry skin more, dripping his blood into the burning pyre below.


    There was ¡ª no, there had been no escape. His position above the lit bonfire hid none of his suffering from the villagers that gathered, yet none came to his aid for they had come this far with steeled hearts and the ever-present reminder of hunger. He had trusted them and they had made their decision. All that needed to be done was for them to see this act through to the end.


    Through the smoke and flames he saw the village elder, staring at him with an expression that spoke of pain, loss, and resolve. The elder''s lips moved and the words echoed to him in his dream just as it had carried to him as a boy.


    Only those that face the hardest choices know the brittleness of morality.


    When Molam woke up in the Castle in the Sky, he had told himself he would never be like them. He couldn''t. No one who sacrificed others like that could possibly be human.

 First Interlude

    Excerpt from Prince of an Empire, by Head Scholar Panmoru and Scholar Einar of the Fallen Star Pavilion.


    Published last year, the 1424th year of the Sun.


    <hr>


    It is incredible how the most famous Titled One in our era has a relatively unknown history. Despite being over two centuries old, there are precious few surviving records of how the Empire''s Prince came to be, perhaps due to the amount of war waged during his lifetime and the collateral damage inflicted upon each city''s Library. As such, most of the few surviving records of the Prince''s time before the War of Crowns can only be found in the Fallen Star Pavilion.


    For us, the most striking thought when poring through the Prince''s records is the contrast between who he was and who he is today. While all accounts are second or even third-hand hearsay, many scholars agree that the Prince has markedly changed over his lifetime. It bears repeating that even legends are human ¡ª prone to learning, growth, and change.


    Though the Prince is rumored to be born around the year 1180 of the Sun, he spent his formative years living in the Red Emperor''s shadow in Crimson City. If there are any records of this time, they may only be found in the Library of Crimson City''s Palace. This summary starts with the commonly accepted theory that the Prince himself killed the Red Emperor during Spring''s Blessings in the 1200th year of the Sun.


    Without the Red Emperor''s authority and the Prince having disappeared in the wake of the Red Emperor''s death, the remaining six of the Nine Lords publicly agreed to not wage a fight over succession and broke off their respective territories from the Empire: HaiFeng, Exabell, Falysos, Teljumaya, Northern Plains, and the Formosan Islands, in an event now called the Empire''s Fracturing. They became known as the Six Crowns.


    The Six Crowns divided up the Empire amongst themselves and only Crimson City, the original seat of the Empire, was declared a neutral territory. Each of the Six Crowns led their kingdoms into their respective Golden Ages based on what the monarch prioritized and proclaimed their desire for peace with the other monarchs, not to be broken so long as they lived.


    There are no records that indicate where the Prince had gone or what he was doing during his disappearance, but he resurfaced almost five decades later in the year 1248 of the Sun and met with the Six Crowns. Based on all known records, the Six Crowns offered the Prince a place as the Seventh Crown and Crimson City as his own territory to avoid a war of succession.


    The Prince accepted the Title as the Seventh Crown and took Crimson City. For a decade, all was silent; then he launched a preemptive strike on Falysos and Exabell. The other Crowns condemned this act and united against the Prince in the War of Crowns. Despite the Prince''s pursuit of a speedy victory, the combined might of the Six Crowns dragged out the war, which raged between the years 1257 and 1288 of the Sun. During this period of war, it is estimated no less than a third of the land''s population died. Though many begged the Oracle and the Leviathan of ZhiXia to intervene, they did not leave the shadows of YiZhi Mountain. The Prince never engaged in a battle near YiZhi Mountain''s borders despite the Six Crowns'' best efforts to lure him there.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    In the wake of all the deaths and destruction, the Prince offered the Six Crowns a fight between just the seven of them at Argentine Mountain. The Six Crowns agreed, and they fought the Battle of Argentine Cliffs during Autumn''s Colors in the year 1289 of the Sun. Despite their advantage in experience and numbers, it is surmised that the Six Crowns never fully recovered from their previous subjugation of DuskWing and the final Battle of Argentine Cliffs resulted in the Prince''s victory. Half of Argentine Mountain itself was carved out in the process, and the Prince granted that land to the soldiers who surrendered to him so they could bury four of the former Six Crowns in the center of what is now known as Crescent City.


    The two surviving Crowns, the Lord of Sands and Chieftess of Formosa, surrendered in exchange for peace. The Lord of Sands would keep Oasis and agreed to never expand his territory beyond the Endless Sands. The Chieftess of Formosa and her people were exiled to their Islands, never to set foot on the mainland again. Flangel the Wise, the Prince''s own advisor and tutor, was said to protest this treatment of the people and returned to Techoria, the City of Alchemy. The Northern Tribes became scattered after the death of their monarch and in-fighting soon broke out between the Tribes across the Northern Plains over the empty role for Mother of Hjornheim.


    The next few decades would see the Prince re-establish the Empire of the Sun while reclaiming most of its original territories, though several of the breakaway territories maintained their status as Free Cities. This period of peace lasted until the year 1330 of the Sun when the Northern Tribes accepted the Frozen Saint ¡ª then known as the Frost Saint ¡ª as the new Mother of Hjornheim. The Frost Saint led the Northern Tribes to capture Crescent City and launch another rebellion against the Empire of the Sun. The rallying call of the Frost Saint spurred the Empire''s city of Kamisukawa into a bid to become Free. Later, the Spear and Shield of Oasis joined the resulting turmoil with their regiment of Sand Spears, forming the events known as the Frost Saint''s Rebellion.


    This decade-long rebellion resulted in the Prince personally leaving Crimson City and the infamous Massacre of Kamisukawa. After the Prince burned down Kamisukawa, he ordered the Eclipse to deliver the bodies of the Spear and Shield of Oasis to their father, the Lord of Sands. He then turned the Red Army to the Northern Plains and met the Northern Tribes in battle, culminating in a clash with the Frost Saint upon the peak of Hjornheim. The Northern Tribes eventually surrendered after the Prince imprisoned the Frost Saint within the Blue Rose, on the condition that no more lives were taken.


    The Northern Tribes have yet to name a new Mother of Hjornheim. It is unclear if they can while the Frozen Saint remains imprisoned within the Blue Rose on Hjornheim''s Peak, unresponsive but alive.


    No city of the Empire has challenged the Empire''s rule in the decades since the Frost Saint''s Rebellion.

 Ch 8: JiangXi

    Build not where the water collects


    Build not where the earth is soft


    Build not where the sea can rise


    Build not where disaster strikes


    ¡ª Inscribed stone in the Frozen Plains, warning descendents of the Northern Tribes about where to settle to avoid catastrophe, transcribed and translated by the Fallen Star Pavilion


    <hr>


    White snow fell the very next morning, a quiet prelude to the unmistakable onset of Winter''s Sorrow. Though it was not IceMourne''s divine snow which drained away all warmth, it chilled the air all the same as Autumn''s Colors faded away.


    Molam rode in sullen confusion at the silent snowfall. Based on last year, it should at least be another week before Winter''s Sorrow would begin. Though he wasn''t as learned as the scholars of the Fallen Star Pavilion in the weather patterns of Winter''s Sorrow, he was certain that the city of JiangXi was not ready for snow to begin so early this south of the Northern Plains.


    It would be two days before he saw the Jadeite Cliffs of JiangXi, but the journey seemed different now that he traveled alone again. The silence clung to him, making his ears more acute to the distinctive lack of clacketing wheels and laughter in the distance. The nights were longer still; he slept poorly as he tried to shake away the memory of a bonfire in the darkness, of chants that vacillated between pleading and prayer until they were indistinguishable. Each night, the tears of shame burned wet tracks into the sides of his face as he tossed and turned in the bitter chill of the night.


    He wanted to forget, but he could not. He wanted to forgive, but he did not know how.


    When exhaustion claimed him long enough for him to fall asleep, he drowned. Each time, he awoke with gasping breaths and startled his horse into exasperated neighs.


    You are not sleeping.


    Molam yanked at the reins, flinching at the spirit''s sudden voice in his head. The mare whinnied in anger.


    It was day again.


    Sleep is good for the soul.


    He busied himself with guiding his horse back to the snow-covered path, taking stock of his surroundings. When did it become day again? "There''s a lot to think about."


    You made a decision to prioritize what you need to do. What is done is done.


    "I''m not talking about that." He deflected. "I''m worried about¡­ about what I''m lacking. That''s not the only Titled One I''m going to need to overcome. JiangXi has its own."


    The Tempest.


    "Yes." Molam suppressed a wave of self-pity, but the memory of those glowing dark-blue eyes haunted him from the darkness at night. The breath-halting certainty that GloomSire could have claimed his life at any time, and the intense memory of something invisible choking against his throat like a noose. "I hadn''t heard of GloomSire until a week ago, and the Tempest defending JiangXi has been Titled for at least ten years. She must be his equal, if not significantly stronger."


    A difference of ten years is hardly anything worth worrying about.


    "For a spirit, maybe. I hope eight hundred years is something to you." He responded a bit more savagely than he would have liked.


    Molam squinted at the distance. What he had thought was merely looming shadows had solidified into dark-green colored slopes. The past two days had passed by in a blur and now they were coming upon the Jadeite Cliffs that held the city of JiangXi.


    JiangXi itself was built atop a series of sloping cliffs that overlooked the River Jiang. A city built upon control of river trading, the roads leading to it coalesced into a main road that ran between the city''s border and the Slumbering Forest''s eastern edge. The city itself came into view from afar, the roofs of its buildings sloping almost linearly in parallel with the slope of the cliffs.


    The city walls were built of stone, but whether by design or happenstance, the builders had chosen stone that was easy for lichen to grow on their surface. Even coated in a light layer of snow, the resulting mesh of light green coating was reminiscent of jadeite, resulting in the walls being affectionately termed the Jadeite Cliffs. The Empire of the Sun''s flags decorated the walls, each emblazoned with the symbol of the Empire: a red five pointed star in a circle.


    The city itself was a border city of the Empire, named in the Old Tongue for its location on the western side of the River Jiang. Defended by the Tempest, one of the Empire''s Titled Ones.


    I realized I failed to impress upon you the importance of avoiding another conflict with a Titled One. Looking back at your memories, it is important to recognize that your journey will be fraught with ¨C


    "I''m not looking to die."


    That is not the problem. Do you not understand the unease that haunts your sleep? Did you think that you were going to embark upon this without soiling your own hands?


    "I''m not unaware about what needs to be done."


    You say that, but your difficulty with sleep makes it clear that you have misgivings. Even the Hero ¨C


    Molam changed the subject. "No majestic pigeon form?"


    The spirit''s voice fell silent in his head, and in its absence the pleading chants from that night ¨C from all of his nights ¨C surged with such intense volume that Molam felt a brief pang of gratitude when the spirit eventually responded.


    A pointless waste of the aura in this feather.


    "Is there not a lot?" He bit the inside of his lower lip and then exhaled, watching his breath condense in the chilly air. Through sheer force of will, he quieted the voices.


    We condensed quite a bit from the Inner Sanctum, but it is still limited.


    "Excellent. A good reason for you to talk less then." He regretted it immediately, but the words had left his mouth and he subdued the voices that clamored for his attention.


    Instead, Molam brushed a layer of snow off of his lap and noticed the armguard. The temptation to unfasten it and toss it away almost claimed him, but then GloomSire''s words echoed in his mind. Never, ever, forget.


    He nudged his horse along faster.


    ***


    Unlike ZhiXia, most other cities had walls, and JiangXi was no exception. Based on his time at the Fallen Star Pavilion, if someone asked Molam what the first thing came to mind was when he thought of JiangXi, he would say that one of the historical architecture scholars loved to tell him about how JiangXi was known to have the shortest walls of any city. Being built atop a protruding cliffside over the River Jiang afforded it protection from multiple sides, and only the lower end of the Jadeite Cliffs afforded entry into the city itself.


    For some reason, the city guards were checking each person seeking to enter the city for spare wood. To the side of the guards room was a stack of wood they had confiscated from the people.


    When the guard indicated to Molam to go in, Molam summoned up his best cordial expression as he sat across the one checking travel permits.


    "I see wood is being seized from incoming travelers. Is there a reason?" Molam asked the guard as he presented his travel pass and two coins.


    The guard inspected the pass and then took the coins, counting out some change for him. "The City Lord just passed a law to prevent further logging in the Slumbering Forest for a year on account of its recent burning. But people kept doing it for money, so if the lawbreakers can''t sell it in the city they won''t be cutting down anymore trees. If that''ll be all, then ¡ª"


    "Is the line to enter the city normally this long?" Molam pushed back the change the guard at the gate had given him. He kept his face still at the knowledge of how his actions had caused JiangXi to pass a law.


    The guardsman covered the coins with a hand wrapped in bandages and swiped them off the table. "Drought brings poor harvest. Poor harvests bring people to the city looking for work and food."


    Molam had hoped the coin would loosen the man''s taciturn lips, but it seemed he would need to press for more. He gave the man a disarming smile and pressed further, "JiangXi has a lot of capacity for the surge of workers?"


    The guardsman eyed him with a calculating look, prompting Molam to drop another coin onto the table. The man smiled with a mouth that was missing several teeth and pressed down on the coin with a finger before answering. "The Prince''s conscription took a lot of men. These villagers need food, so I''m sure they''ll find some opportunity." He gave a dismissive gesture. "Will that be all?"


    Molam contemplated asking the guard about the person he had come to seek, then decided against it.


    "Next!"


    ***


    The borrowed horse had been dropped off at the stables at the entrance to the city, but the riding gear needed to be returned to the city''s Shrine. Like all main settlements, JiangXi was built around a Shrine. Molam just didn''t remember where.


    As he walked up the city in search of the Shrine with the saddle in his hand, he soaked in the sights and scent of the city. The citizens of JiangXi were intermingled with the traders that stopped at the docks in a flitting frenzy, no doubt in response to the unexpected early onset of snow. Shouting seemed to be the occasion as men hauled items in and women chased after children with extra bundles of clothing. Curiously, the wind seemed still.


    JiangXi''s Shrine was located at a midpoint of the city, a relatively small building the same size as the Shrine he had seen in the abandoned village. Whereas the Shrines of the Free Cities existed to pay homage to the Gods, Shrines within the Empire of the Sun had another focus: the Hero and Companions that accompanied him against the demons during the Eternal Night. If there were seven statues here in the past, they had been removed and replaced by just one featuring the Hero. Or, as the figure was more commonly known within the Empire of the Sun, the First Hero. A scholar from the Fallen Star Pavilion had claimed this was by decree of the Red Emperor, in the hopes that talented individuals would aspire to become the Second Hero. But there had never been another Hero.


    Molam couldn''t help but wonder if this also contributed to the disasters that the Gods sent. Even though the Hero may have been responsible for creating the Sun and ending the Eternal Night, it was only with the help of the Gods themselves, and Molam thought it pure folly that the Red Emperor commanded the Empire to remove the Gods from the Empire''s Shrines. The divine wrath seemed justified, just like the Bloody Prince''s declaration that he intended to climb the Stairs to Heaven without having earned an invitation the way the Companions had.


    As Molam approached, he could see a better view of the solitary statue. Unlike the statues of the Seven Gods, none of the statues of the Hero depicted a face. Instead, the sculptors always found clever ways to hide the Hero''s visage, and this particular statue wore a hooded cloak that obscured everything above the chin. Molam had examined a statue at length once and found the sculptor left the facial features completely blank, so there existed nothing for even the most curious to see.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Nevertheless, the items the Hero''s statues carried were the same no matter what position he stood in or what artistic expression was used to hide his face: a stone torch lifted high, with a spear slung over his back, and a hand held out in beckoning. This particular stone torch was topped with a stone sphere enclosed within a five-tipped star ¡ª the Empire''s symbol for the Sun.


    The Shrine''s attending Priestesses were also busying themselves in the late afternoon, moving things in and out in response to the falling snow. A fire pit burned right outside of the Shrine''s entrance, with a crowd of people gathered around it warming themselves. Some were even using the public fire pit to cook, and Molam noticed their ages ranged from children to the elderly. Two Priestesses walked among the crowd, speaking kindly to those that demanded their attention and giving choice words to those that jostled others in order to gain undue access to the fire pit.


    The sight of it made Molam frown. Winter''s Sorrow was approaching and the city seemed starved for wood. On his way up, he had barely seen any stalls cooking food. Wood was being collected at the gates, but what was the exact state of the city''s wood supply, and why? The Slumbering Forest was relatively close and while he could understand the City Lord''s reluctance to take actions that would wake it, it wouldn''t do for the citizens to suffer IceMourne''s chill either. He glanced at the people''s faces as he passed by, noting expressions of grim determination and resolved to look into this further if he had a chance.


    Up close, the Shrine''s building was ornately detailed. The carvings that decorated the pillars and walls were painted in bright, vibrant and unfaded colors. The carvings themselves seemed reminiscent of the same carvings that decorated the Oracle''s mask, but Molam could not be entirely sure.


    Molam paused. The faint echo of chatter had melted into an eerie silence. He glanced down at his feet to look for an indication of a shadow that was not his own, but saw only his shadow. His hand reached for his sword just as the spirit warned him. Behind you.


    Molam spun around, but a hand shoved his sword back into its sheath as he leapt backwards. The assailant''s hands grabbed at his legs and Molam fell backwards, the wind knocked out of him. He kicked hard, connected with nothing and rolled back onto his feet to see himself surrounded by four or five teens.


    A twist of his armguard meant to summon the spirit''s flames produced no reaction.


    A teenage boy stepped forward. Judging by the snow on his shin and knees, this was the one that had tackled him earlier. He pointed to Molam''s pack. "Drop that."


    Molam redoubled his grip on his pack, reaching for his sword again. "I''ll ignore this if you ¡ª"


    The boy rushed forward, kicking up snow as he went. His vision obscured, Molam swung with the sword only for a blow to connect with his head from the side, knocking him to the ground. His head ringing, Molam rolled away in an attempt to stand back up but a brutal kick struck his stomach. The air left his lungs as he slid a distance across the ground and something cracked; the pain blossomed such that his sword fell from his grip and he tasted blood. Through his blurry vision, Molam heard a figure approach and felt a boot stamp down on his wrist before someone yanked his pack away.


    "Grab the saddle too, we can trade it for some wood." A voice barked to someone else behind Molam as he lay curled up in a fetal position trying to contain the pain. "Aren''t you kind of weak for an adult?"


    "Bryce! Look!" A girl''s voice hissed from over Molam''s head. "Sanctuary''s symbol!"


    The boy swore. "Fuck it. Drop it. Drop it all."


    Molam dimly heard his things land near his head and retreating footsteps, but the pain had yet to recede. Breathing hurt ¡ª something must have broken. "Heal me," he grunted through gritted teeth.


    Why? I already warned you they were behind you, and you want me to do more? I decided to accompany you out of respect for our friendship, not to be used as a tool and talked to only when you need me.


    "You ¡ª" He coughed as he flipped himself onto his stomach, feeling a fresh spasm of pain as he tried to push himself onto all fours. All he could manage was short stuttering breaths and in between them, he forced out the words. "Is now ¡­ the ¡­ time?" He coughed, the tangy taste of blood filling his mouth. Sucking in the cold air through his teeth, Molam''s blood boiled at the spirit''s sentiment through his pain. "If you¡­ had ¡­ helped me ¡­ to scare them off ¡­"


    I am not to blame for your situation, boy. Perhaps the Oracle is right to refer to you as a child.


    His wrist flared with heat and his stomach itched. Moments later, the pain transitioned into a manageable throbbing.


    You might consider it unfair that you are here as a tool, but it was not by my decision. You earned my friendship on your own, and you are at risk of losing it.


    Molam spent another moment on all fours, reflexively tensing his abdomen to ensure he could move before he sat upright and looked around. The children were nowhere to be seen, and the contents of his pack sprawled out on the ground in the snow next to the saddle.


    "Losing your friendship?" He felt insulted. The spirit seemed to not understand the situation at all, seemed to not understand that he was here suffering and in pain for it, not himself. "Do you want my help with the elderwood or not?" He reminded the spirit, then spat out blood, the red staining the gray snow on the ground beneath him. "Do you think I''m here because I wanted to be? I''m here because you need to undergo rebirth."


    Fail the Oracle''s task and you only fail yourself. A decade of waiting for rebirth is but a passing moment if I sleep. Are you going to allow your emotions to cloud your judgment and lose your way? Do you no longer want to go home?


    The remark made Molam push himself up in anger to gather his things. He picked up the saddle, dusting off the snow with more force than necessary. A quick glance told him that everything was still there, even his coin pouch. He clenched his jaw and rearranged everything else back into his pack in silence.


    Though his stomach and ribs no longer hurt, his injured pride and the harsh reminder of his inabilities stalled him from apologizing. Molam fumed in silence; the sheer utter hypocrisy of the spirit claiming it did not want to be used as a tool when he himself was here to hasten its own rebirth. He only found the energy to shove aside his feelings when he considered the loss of his companion''s presence.


    "I''ve been having difficulty adjusting since we met GloomSire, and I''ve been unfair to you." He wiped the dried blood from the corner of his mouth, Priestess Komura''s teachings surfacing in his mind. "You''re the closest thing I have to a friend, you didn''t need to leave a feather with me and I really appreciate having you here. I was unfair to you while I tried to come to terms with what I had done. I ¡­ don''t know if it will happen again, but I appreciate your patience."


    Patience is a given. The spirit''s voice admonished, but seemed gentler in his head. I spent eight hundred years locked up before you broke me out. You were right: even for me, that amount of time is noticeable, made worse by only having the Red Emperor and the Prince to speak to. I will forgive you for your childish behavior up till now and no doubt, the ones in the future.


    "I will try to do better." Molam inclined his head as he slung his pack over his shoulder. "But can you not wait for things to be bad to warn me?"


    The you who planned for five years and successfully freed me from Crimson City had more discipline than you now. Here is my warning then: Do not wait for things to be worse for you to remember it is always your responsibility to take action. Anger leads to resentment. Resentment leads to clouded judgment. And now, someone approaches.


    Molam looked up, seeing the pure white cloak as a Priestess walked up to him from afar, uncertainty in her eyes as he greeted her. Barely shorter than him, she responded to his waving with wary amber eyes, but he saw her tense shoulders relax as he showed her the saddle with Sanctuary''s mark on it.


    "A messenger?" She immediately ran forward and reached for the saddle. "I sensed a disturbance outside the Shrine and came to take a look and saw you getting up. Even the Empire''s residents know better than to mistreat those bearing Sanctuary''s mark. Did any of our residents give you difficulty? If you would like, we could search for the perpetrators and¡ª"


    "No." Molam moved his hand away from his stomach and relaxed his face. "I wasn''t inconvenienced any more than necessary."


    "I see." She replied with the tone of one that did not wholeheartedly believe him. "But the Whale of ZhiXia¡­"


    "Will not hear of this." Molam reassured her. "I promise. It was a minor matter, though I do hope to get to the bottom of the circumstances that have caused such¡­desperation."


    Her eyes narrowed at his phrasing, but she had clearly relaxed when he said he was not going to pursue the matter. "Please follow me inside."


    "Of course," Molam fell in step behind her, taking care to step over the Shrine''s threshold as she did. "My name is Molam, and as you saw, I was recently appointed as a messenger of Sanctuary by the Oracle. May I know your name?"


    "I serve as Head Priestess Cerelia."


    Molam hid his surprise. Head Priestess Cerelia was much younger than any of the Head Priestesses he had seen, all of whom had at least begun to show wisps of gray in their hair. "You must be quite capable to oversee the Shrine of a city."


    "I serve the people with the Oracle''s blessing." Priestess Cerelia replied without turning to look at him as she led the way. "I received notice that you would be arriving and to give you as much aid as possible, but you must understand that just like the Oracle, the Priestesses of each city''s Shrines are always neutral."


    Several other Priestesses passed them by, dipping their heads towards Cerelia as they crossed paths. Cerelia acknowledged them with a wave of her hand, then led Molam to a storage room where she placed the saddle in front of two identical ones.


    "We haven''t had a direct messenger with Sanctuary for several years, so now that you''ve shown up¡­" Cerelia''s voice took on a hint of unease, "JiangXi is already having problems."


    Molam wanted to say that was precisely why he was here, but refrained. "I''ve heard as much, but the residents I encountered earlier ¡­ solidified my awareness," Molam murmured smoothly, wondering if it was something that he could use. "I hope you can enlighten me about the situation? Surely giving me a quick understanding of what ails the city is a neutral act."


    The Head Priestess seemed to consider for a moment. "I can do that. But unfortunately, I did not expect to receive you today, and I also have some duties to finish attending to as we prepare for Winter''s Sorrow to arrive. I am quite certain that you are tired from your journey; can you come back tomorrow around noon?"


    "I understand." Molam thanked her and turned to leave, then a notion struck him. He paused, looked to the ground, then glanced towards the Head Priestess.


    "Is there an inn you recommend?"


    ***


    Molam looked out of the window of his room from the second floor. The setting Sun doused the skies over JiangXi in a deep, burnt orange which washed away into deep ochre ¡ª a reminder that Autumn''s Colors were only temporary. He breathed a sigh of discontent, soaking in the evening air and took in the permeating scent of snow mixed with the muddy slush on the roads. It would be a time to relax if the sound of another disgruntled group wasn''t floating up from the first floor.


    Quite a first day. The feather glowed dully from its place in his armguard. Molam contemplated taking it out, but it didn''t seem as though his companion cared where the feather was placed and he wouldn''t want to be forced to choose either the feather or the armguard if he was suddenly forced to flee. At the very least, you arrived in JiangXi before Winter''s Sorrow.


    "I wish we knew when Winter''s Sorrow was coming. The snow is already falling, but IceMourne isn''t here yet?" Molam left the window and began undressing himself. The skin and muscles of his body loosened with a stinging sensation as he undid his garments and massaged his limbs to get the blood flowing. He sat down at the table and gingerly washed his face with the cold water in the basin. At least the water was clean, and he dabbed a cloth into it to rub at his skin, wincing at the shock of the water''s frigid temperature. The innkeeper''s price for heated water was ludicrous and this was the best he could do to clean the dirt and grime of travel from his body. "I suppose it''s a waste of aura to warm this water?"


    You will need to be stringent with how you use it. The aura can not be imbued again without returning to Sanctuary, and you may need it against the Tempest.


    "Oh?" Molam used a dry cloth now to wipe himself down. Now feeling less like he was covered in a thin coating of grime and sweat, he put on his undergarments and soaked his clothes in the water after mixing in some soap. "Are you offering to fight a Titled One for me?"


    If they are anything like GloomSire, this feather is limited to keeping you alive.


    Molam kept his voice level as he kneaded his clothing in the soapy water. "The goal is obviously to avoid a fight I can''t win."


    Then avoid escalating conflict.


    "As though I''m not aware of how closely I walk towards God Yven." Molam''s tone softened at the spirit''s support. He pulled the clothes out of the basin and dunked all of it into another basin, doing his best to remove the soap. It was during times of doing such repetitive work that he thought the Empire made a mistake with its avoidance of the inventions of alchemists. "Avoiding a confrontation with the Tempest just means I will need to learn as much as I can. If only I had a Titled One at my disposal."


    He squeezed and wrung the clothes as dry as possible, the liquid dripping down his arms and splattering fat droplets into the basin. When his arms tired, he shook out the clothes and hung them along the wall to dry overnight, then pushed the used water basins out to the hall.


    By now, the skies were dark. Molam locked the door and closed the window to keep the heat within his room and rolled onto the bed. It was not an expensive inn, but the bedsheet was clean and he had been provided with a thin comforter. Their thicker ones had already been claimed by other customers, but Molam didn''t protest as he did his best to find his own warmth.


    "What do you think of Cerelia?"


    The girl''s aura roils with self-doubt. But she speaks truth to you.


    "I would hope, if the Oracle chose her to serve as Head Priestess."


    Molam blew out the candle and fell silent in the darkness,listening for any disturbances. There was more angry shouting somewhere on the streets, but the contents were obscured. Noting that it didn''t concern him, he leaned back and looked for a comfortable position, stretching himself and feeling the muscles inside of his thighs pull from his days in the saddle. "Do you know what this city''s situation reminds me of? When my village was counting whether they had enough food stored to survive that Winter''s Sorrow. And when they didn''t like the answer..." He left the rest unsaid.


    And can you use this situation?


    "I don''t know yet. I''ll need to learn more." But his head swirled with ideas as he shifted his head and tried to relax his neck. "Komura was right. The Oracle knows this is what I''m best at."


    Molam closed his eyes, praying to the Gods to not allow those dark-blue eyes to be in his dreams tonight.


    Moments later, he amended his prayer.


    He did not want to dream.

 Ch 9: Leymint Tea

    Strength is when you speak and others listen.


    Power is when you speak and others obey.


    ¡ª Excerpt from Meditations, by the Red Emperor


    <hr>


    It is a jarring experience, meshing your experiences with mine.


    "Perhaps you should''ve considered this outcome before you so forcefully read my memories."


    You survived with no lasting ailments. The spirit seemed quick to dismiss the complaint. This is a new city for me, yet I have your memories of walking through it.


    "A trade city, so I only passed through very briefly."


    Molam had awoken from a dreamless sleep feeling lethargic, but he thanked the Gods for allowing him to rest undisturbed. He had left the inn early in the morning, too early to visit the Shrine for his appointment at noon, and so had chosen to walk around JiangXi. "We''re not here to sightsee, but to familiarize ourselves with the city and learn as much as we can. And look for a Primrose."


    Perhaps you should ask that Priestess girl instead of walking about aimlessly.


    "Some things are best experienced instead of being told." Molam heaved a sigh, feeling the loss of direction. He had walked for some time now and noticed the distinctive lack of stalls placed on the streets. Whatever the wood situation in JiangXi, it was impacting the residents in ways that the City Lord could not be oblivious to. But he could not understand why the City Lord would allow the situation to persist, and he suspected it had to do with why the Oracle had chosen this city.


    Finding an empty stone lantern near the side of the street, he wiped off the snow and sat down upon it to contemplate the situation as he waited for noon. He wrapped Komura''s cloak around himself as he watched the city''s residents pass by in silence, and for a brief moment he wondered what he would do if he happened across the children that had ambushed him.


    "I don''t mean this to sound strange, but did anything surprise you today?" Molam murmured as a group of people passed by him, semi-conscious that they might find it bizarre for him to be talking to himself. "I don''t want to seem as though I''m only talking to you when I need you, so feel free to tell me what you''re experiencing. Anything out of the ordinary? It can even be mundane to you."


    This is you talking to me because you need me.


    "You know what I mean," Molam puffed out his cheeks at the spirit''s tone, and to his surprise the spirit laughed in his head.


    It did not occur to me then, but I am curious why there is no established Domain over JiangXi.


    Molam shifted on the stone lantern. "Elaborate?"


    The Tempest is the defending Titled One for this city. But ever since we approached and entered, there has been no Domain covering this city.


    Domains and aura. Again, Molam felt the bitter sense of loss, his natural right denied to him. Such was the price of his second chance at life.


    Chasing the melancholy away, he focused his energy and thoughts on what was being relayed to him, feeling his breathing in the wintry air. Cities with a defending Titled One were protected not just by the fame of that Titled One, but by their Domain covering the city to its borders. While it seemed each Titled One had a different type of Domain, the overall purpose was the same: an established area where the Titled One easily monitored all the comings and goings of the people, but in many cases it also gave them an overwhelming advantage in battle.


    "If the Tempest''s Domain is not covering JiangXi, she must be unable to exert it or she is not here. Unless there''s another reason I don''t know of?"


    She could be dead.


    "If she was dead, word would be on the street. There is no possibility of that staying unknown for long." Molam murmured, deep in thought. Titled Ones that had any amount of battle prowess only died in extraordinary circumstances. "I don''t know enough to understand why she wouldn''t be able to exert her Domain, but her being gone is the simplest answer. But it does beg the question of: Why? If the Tempest is not here, then where?"


    Molam wandered the streets of JiangXi aimlessly as he considered this situation, bickering with the spirit in low whispers as he walked. Though Winter''s Sorrow was setting in, the city was still bustling with activity as citizens purchased goods they would need to stockpile to survive the cold even if there were no food stalls.


    If he was to obtain the city''s stockpile of elderwood, he would need to do it before the Festival of the Hero at the beginning of Spring''s Blessings. If he did not move swiftly enough, he would soon find himself waiting until next Autumn''s Colors before the city received its next allotment of the elderwood again. RainBringer and the Oracle had given him little choice in timing of the matter, and the warm feather on his wrist acted as a constant reminder of whom it was for.


    He wandered towards the River Jiang''s docks, built at the edge of JiangXi. The River Jiang itself was wide, so wide that one could hardly see the riverbank on the other side. JiangXi ensured that they built above the floodline so the city could provide a unique halfway point between Falysos upstream and HaiFeng downstream.


    Though the cloak provided a decent amount of warmth, Molam still shivered at the cold as he came to the River and beheld its frozen waters. Trading ships were already trapped by a layer of ice, thick enough for the dockhands to be walking on it on their way to the ships.


    This was not expected. IceMourne had not yet passed by, but it was cold enough for the River waters to freeze? He realized with a start that the comfort he had from the spirit''s Domain of warmth meant that he had been oblivious to the actual cold evident all around him. The citizens were bundled up in thickly-lined coats and he was the one that seemed odd-one out with just a few layers.


    The dockhands he talked to at the dock''s tavern seemed to be unperturbed by his lacking layers so long as he bought them drinks, and Molam was delighted to find that alcohol melted ice and frigid attitudes equally well. Soon, he had learned that none of the captains had anticipated the river freezing so early, and confirmed his assumption that IceMourne had yet to pass over the city. The city''s leadership was still awaiting its annual prediction of IceMourne''s path from the Fallen Star Pavilion, but it had not yet arrived.


    "The mursashu had commissioned most of these riverships?" Molam needed to confirm.


    "Oh so you are listening, huh?" The dockhand was a large, thick-chested man wearing a fur-lined vest, and he had an overbearing habit of leaning in as he asked questions of his own. "Yeh, they don''t come to the tavern and that''s probably why you don''t get a whiff of their perfumed robes here."


    Molam blinked, hiding his disgust at the dockhand''s breath. "Then where are they?"


    The dockhand shrugged, leaning back towards his side of the table as he swirled his drink. "Where else? Their ships. Though the ships ain''t going anywhere until the River Jiang thaws in Spring''s Blessings, the Mursa Shang has ordered all of his group''s cargo to be put into the ships. Must be nice to be cooped up in those warm ships with all that good food." He jerked a thumb down at the steamed potatoes Molam had ordered for the two of them, then shouted, "Hey, the salt! Where''s the damn salt I asked for earlier?"


    Molam thought it curious that the dockhand''s meandering thoughts would stray there. "What do you mean good food? The mursashu are known for their food now?"


    "No, not that. They''re still the same old greedy money-counting opportunistic leeches." The dockhand murmured under his breath and puffed his cheeks. "Food''s expensive now, after the drought and all, see?" He looked at his drink and frowned, then shrugged and took another swig. "And no one expected RainBringer to fucking flood half the Central Valley a few weeks ago. So Mursa Shang bought all that food before the flood and now the city suddenly loses half the storage meant to weather them through Winter''s Sorrow. Look." The man lifted his mug and pointed with a finger outside and Molam saw a line of men carrying crates down to the docks.


    "You see all those crates outside being hauled in? The Mursa hired extra hands to move the cargo, but you best not be hungry. A couple of children stole some last week and almost lost their hands."


    It seemed even the City Lord Agytha would not risk offending the mursashu. Twenty-two river ships in total were being laden with food as cargo while the city guards patrolled in earnest, daring any thief to make a move on the cargo. They marched in groups of four, eyes darting about as they met the cold and hungry eyes of their kin. Molam wondered if behind their blank stares they had second thoughts about carrying out the City Lord''s orders.


    More questions that needed answers for when he returned to the Shrine.


    ***


    Head Priestess Cerelia served leymint tea to him in a teapot with faded paint, and though his own cup seemed relatively new, he noticed a mild chip in the cup that the Priestess herself used. An Initiate had guided him to their current audience room, sparsely furnished and barely lit by light filtered through two large windows covered in paper to keep out the encroaching cold.


    While Shrines were not a place of decadence, their role in society could not be understated. Even though the Empire openly declared its enmity with the Oracle and Sanctuary, the Red Emperor and the Prince had ensured that the Shrines were allocated a source of funding to provide the people a place to worship. To see JiangXi''s Shrine in such a poor state of affairs raised even more questions in Molam''s mind.


    "I apologize if it''s not hot," Cerelia murmured as she poured the tea for him and he saw barely a hint of vapor. "We''ve given most of our wood to the residents in need, and warming stones take time to boil a pot."This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    "Warming stones?" Molam picked up his tea and sipped at it. Lukewarm. The tea leaves had failed to simmer properly and the distinctive scent of leymint was scarcely present. There was a distinctive lack of food as well, and Molam played with his wristband under the table, hoping the spirit would understand his request.


    "An alchemic invention. They look like stones, but radiate heat and you can put them outside in the Sun when their aura is spent to soak in the Sun''s aura. They''re being sold to the public by an alchemist, but he donates quite a bit to the Shrine for us to distribute to the less fortunate." She sipped at her tea and made a face. "Not a true replacement for a wood fire, but as IceMourne approaches we must make do in order to not die of the cold."


    "Warming ¡­ stones." Molam resisted the urge to make a face, but he could not help commenting. The knowledge that an alchemist resided in JiangXi already surprised him, for the Empire had historically been intolerant of the profession. "This alchemist has a little creativity. Very on the nose."


    Cerelia shrugged. "During times like these, no one cares much for the name. We only care about whether it does what we need it to do."


    He resisted the temptation to ask the spirit to warm the pot and did not want to embarrass Cerelia by not finishing the tea, but if he waited any longer it would only get colder. He downed it in one gulp and set down his cup, grimacing internally at the bitter dregs.


    The Priestess picked up the pot again and motioned to refill it, to which Molam hastily held out a hand. "Thank you. For the tea, I mean. But I had some earlier and my purpose here is not to drink tea."


    "Oh. All right then." The Priestess set down the pot and rearranged herself in her chair opposite him. "What can I do for the Oracle''s messenger?"


    "First of all, let me thank you for taking the time to speak to me personally."


    Cerelia waved away the statement. "It''s not for you. It''s to minimize the amount of contact you have with the rest of the Shrine. If anything goes wrong¡­" She looked at him with her amber eyes, and Molam nodded with understanding.


    "Then I thank you for taking on the risk yourself. I will try and keep this brief, but I have four main questions." Molam shifted forward in his seat. "My first main question: What can you tell me about JiangXi''s new City Lord?"


    "Her name is Agytha, and she became City Lord three years ago. I have only met her on official duties, and do not know much about her otherwise." Cerelia drank her own tea without a change in expression. "But I can tell you about her governance." She pressed her lips together, "I don''t know why, but Agytha isn''t governing JiangXi like any of the other City Lords. The residents all hate her policies."


    Molam listened in silence as Cerelia detailed the extent of Agytha''s change in city-wide policies, not allowing his surprise to show on his face. As one of the largest rivers in the land, the River Jiang oversaw much of the trade that passed in the land between the Endless Sands in the West and the Deep Waters in the East, and JiangXi claimed an important status as the main trading hub on the River Jiang. Though it was a border city, it made little sense for the Empire to entrust JiangXi''s governance to a City Lord that actively antagonized its residents.


    "Wait." Molam held up a hand as he focused his gaze on Cerelia. "Could you repeat what you just said?"


    "The circumstances of Agytha''s appointment to City Lord are shrouded in mystery," the Priestess repeated, "We were just as surprised three years ago when Agytha showed up at the City Lord''s Mansion with a missive from the Prince appointing her as the new City Lord." She sipped her tea nervously, "Many thought that it was an elaborate lie, but the Prince''s official seal was confirmed and the Tempest works with Agytha willingly."


    "None of this makes sense." Molam murmured, half to himself and half to Cerelia as he leaned back, trying to process this drastic change in JiangXi''s power structure. "The Tempest''s willing aid gives credence to Agytha''s claim to the position. But why would the Empire send an unknown?"


    Cerelia nodded her head in agreement at Molam''s assessment, pouring herself another cup of tea. Molam watched the liquid slosh silently into the cup as he pondered. The position of City Lord was not given to just anyone ¨C it was the highest authority within a city of the Empire. Even the leaders of the Free Cities followed this naming scheme and were referred to as the City Lord, but that may have just been out of respect for the Prince''s treatment to those that called themselves Kings or Queens after the Empire''s Fracturing.


    "And since a practicing alchemist is in the city, does that mean Agytha is not enforcing the Empire''s ban on alchemy?"


    "I would think so, or at the very least, she knows that her aggressive ban on wood needs a replacement for the general populace and she has instructed the guards to turn a blind eye so far."


    "This leads straight to my second main question then, though the scope has slightly expanded." Molam leaned an elbow on the table and propped up his chin in thought. "JiangXi ¡­ was not always this destitute and there is clearly a lack of wood. But it seems food is also lacking and the Empire has not provided for the people? What is going on? Is Agytha this inept?"


    "I don''t understand much about the food situation either," Cerelia admitted. "And as for wood, Agytha has been slowly collecting as much of it as possible, beginning at the end of Summer''s Warmth. The price rose slightly throughout Autumn''s Colors, but those that needed wood could still cut the trees at the edge of the Slumbering Forest. Unfortunately, almost two weeks ago there was a large fire in the Forest, did you know about that?"


    Molam kept a straight face. "Yes, I''ve heard of it."


    "Well, the Forest stirred and we all felt it." Cerelia shook her head, as though remembering something terrifying. "And whether it''s because of the UnSeen or something else, many that entered the Forest to log wood haven''t returned. As City Lord, Agytha determined that the Forest needed time to recover from the fire before logging was permitted again."


    "A moment, please." Molam squeezed his nose bridge as he ruminated, trying to understand this as simply as possible. The pause hung heavily before he spoke again. "So¡­the supply of wood entering JiangXi has all but stopped for several months, right when Winter''s Sorrow is starting and the people need wood to survive? The price of wood must have skyrocketed, and the city has wood in storage but hasn''t done anything about it. How has this not resulted in rioting yet?"


    "That''s a very mercantile way of viewing it. Mursa Shang would approve." Cerelia refilled her cup. Molam gestured that he did not want any.


    "But that''s the extent of the situation, no? Isn''t the Empire supposed to release its stores to the people when there''s disaster? It feels as though Agytha oversees the city now, not the Empire."


    Cerelia nodded without speaking.


    "How are the residents accepting any of this? It''s still a city of the Empire!" His frustration flared, and for a moment Molam forgot to evaluate how he could use this situation to his advantage. All he saw was an avoidable situation made worse by malicious action and negligent inaction, one that could only lead to desperate people making difficult choices.


    "The people haven''t." Cerelia murmured softly. "But it is hard to argue with a City Lord''s actions when you live in the Domain of the Titled One that supports the City Lord."


    "The Tempest." Molam exhaled heavily.


    "The Tempest," Cerelia agreed. "I assume she''s the subject of your third main question."


    Molam nodded in appreciation at Cerelia''s understanding. "A minor guess, but is the Tempest not here?"


    The Priestess frowned, her gaze searching Molam''s eyes. "Can you ¡ª oh, never mind. To your guess, yes. She left several days ago on a subjugation order." Her fingertip played with the rim of her cup as she looked down. "Not many know. JiangXi would prefer to not advertise that it is currently without a Titled One, though I believe she isn''t too far."


    Well that explains the lack of a Domain.


    Molam agreed internally, seeing it as an opportunity that could be exploited. Any avoidance of a fight with the Tempest would simplify things as much as possible.


    "A subjugation order that required the Tempest to mobilize? What is the target?" If he could figure out what the Tempest''s target was, he could estimate how long it would take. That would be the amount of time he had to act without a Domain covering the city.


    She answered after a moment of hesitation. "I believe the Tempest is looking for a bandit group named the UnSeen and a new Titled One named GloomSire."


    The name sent pinpricks up Molam''s spine, but he did not let it show. "How do you know?"


    Cerelia met his gaze and replied in an even tone. "A Priestess hears many things in the Shrine."


    Molam inclined his head in silent acknowledgement, understanding Cerelia''s meaning. Prayer was generally a sacred communion between one''s inner thoughts with the Gods, and the Priestess'' were expected to keep all they saw and heard to themselves. Her admission to him may not have told him who made the prayer, but her subtle expression warned that he should not pursue this line of questioning any longer. He had learned that the Tempest was looking for GloomSire and the UnSeen, and that was valuable enough.


    "You mentioned one last question." Cerelia changed the topic for them.


    It was his turn to hesitate. "I''m looking for someone. Do you know if there''s a woman named Primrose in the city?"


    Her brow furrowed and she set her cup down before she answered. "If you stay just a bit longer, the alchemist will arrive with a batch of warming stones. I believe he may know who you''re looking for."


    ***


    "Molam, I would like you to meet the alchemist I spoke of."


    Molam immediately recognized the alchemist''s dark blonde hair and the thick scar running diagonally across his face.


    "Kalle," Molam raised his eyebrows in surprise, pushing back his chair and standing up. "It has been some time since I bought my cloak and flame powder from you in Techoria."


    The alchemist looked shocked and almost dropped the small sack he offered to Priestess Cerelia, who deftly caught it and gave him a disapproving look before leaving the room.


    "I know you, you were the one Master Flangel guided around," Kalle hesitated. "Um, what was it again? Ca¡­Carlton?"


    "That was a pseudonym," Molam corrected immediately, remembering the name and persona he adopted during his travels. "My real name is Molam. I do apologize for using a travel name when we first met." He didn''t give Kalle time to complain about the deceit. "I almost didn''t recognize you with your scruffy face now. Do you always grow that for Winter''s Sorrow?"


    "Oh, this. The houses here aren''t equipped with heaters, so¡­" Kalle rubbed a gloved finger into his scraggly chin, squinting deeply in thought as he stared back at Molam. "Master Flangel spoke highly of you then."


    Molam recalled the meeting with Flangel the Wise. Techoria''s Master Alchemist had grudgingly accepted their initial meeting only because of the Oracle''s color of approval, where Molam spent some time consulting the aging alchemist on the inner structure of Crimson City''s Palace.


    "I hope Flangel the Wise wasn''t speaking of alchemy," Molam replied disarmingly with his hands held open, "I cannot compare to you alchemists at all."


    Kalle''s eyes seemed deep in thought before the man held out a hand. "I didn''t expect to see you here."


    "Neither did I, if I''m being honest." Molam clasped Kalle''s hand in greeting. "I thought you had a relatively good position in Techoria. Why did you leave?"


    Kalle''s eyes shifted downwards, "Well, yes. But¡­you..." he ran a hand through his hair. "Do you know what''s happening in Techoria?"


    Molam quickly recalled what he could of Techoria, the Free City of Alchemy, where he had bought the black powder and the flameproof cloak from Kalle. Founded by Flangel the Wise almost two centuries ago during the Empire''s Fracturing, historians considered it the source of conflict between Flangel the Wise and the Prince of the Empire.


    Molam frowned at Kalle''s question. "I''m not entirely sure what you''re referring to."


    "The First and Third divisions of the Red Army have marched their way to Techoria during Summer''s Warmth, led by their division commanders. And so¡­" Kalle grimaced, "I''m here. Doing what I can, I suppose. Why did the Head Priestess ask me if I could see you? And¡­you were Sanctuary''s messenger the whole time?"


    The bluntness of Kalle''s question made Molam grin. He briefly contemplated whether the alchemist was trustworthy, but decided to trust Head Priestess Cerelia''s judgment. "The Oracle pointed me towards a woman named Primrose. The Head Priestess indicated to me that you could help."


    Kalle''s eyebrows raised and his voice took on an edge. "What makes you think that?"


    The door opened and an Initiate poked her head in. "The Head Priestess would like me to remind you that the Shrine is a place of neutrality."


    "Oh. Of course," Kalle rubbed at his head sheepishly. "Yes. Well ¡ª"


    "Please thank the Head Priestess for me, we''ll see ourselves out." Molam smiled at the Initiate, then looked to Kalle. "The inn I''m staying at has quite the honeyed bread and spiced mulled mead. Care to join me?"


    Kalle agreed, and they exited the Shrine together, Molam keeping the conversation light as he ruminated on what he had just learned. It made sense why Priestess Komura had abandoned that village. No village wanted to be in the way of two divisions of the Red Army, not to mention two of five division commanders. All division commanders in the Red Army were Titled Ones.


    Two Titled Ones sent with an army to a Free City like Techoria could only mean war.

 Ch 10: Gathering

    Then came the Massacre of Kamisukawa. Under the guise of accepting Kamisukawa''s invitation to meet and negotiate peaceful terms, the Prince trapped all of Kamisukawa''s residents within the city''s walls before burning them with the city down in one night.


    From that day on, those that did not belong to the Empire began calling him the Bloody Prince. To this day, the ashen ruins of Kamisukawa are left untouched as the starkest of warnings to the rest of the Empire that secession would not be tolerated.


    ¡ª Excerpt from Prince of an Empire, by Head Scholar Panmoru of the Fallen Star Pavilion


    <hr>


    "Spiced mulled mead and honeyed bread," Molam told the barmaid as he sat down in the inn. He had chosen a spot in the corner where there was little likelihood of being disturbed.


    "I''ll have the same." Kalle pulled open his chair and sat down opposite him before stopping the barmaid again. "Oh, do you have honeyed bread with nuts?"


    The barmaid nodded and left. Molam observed Kalle as the alchemist stood up again to look at the chair, shifting it to the telltale rhythm of inconsistent leg lengths. The alchemist''s face frowned, stretching the lengthy scar that ran across his face, before he dug into a pocket for a piece of cloth and shoved it below the offending chair leg. Upon standing up again, the alchemist tested the chair for any more imbalanced shifting before pulling out the cloth and folding it again, putting it under the leg for another test. He only sat down when he was adequately satisfied.


    "I see you''re still fixing things everywhere you go."


    "The curse of knowing how." Kalle rocked from side to side in his seat, then directed his gaze at Molam as he took off his gloves, flexing his fingers. Facing each other at this distance gave Molam a clear look at Kalle''s face, almost unchanged since their meeting last year with the exception of the unshaven scruff. The Northerner''s light blue eyes still alternated between moments of clarity and a distant unfocused look when he seemed to be pondering.


    The most striking detail of Kalle''s look was the dark-colored scar that ran across his face. Molam did not comment on it in the past and did wish to start now, but Kalle''s background raised many questions in his mind. His Northern heritage was undeniable ¨C the blonde hair, blue eyes, and fair skin could only be a look found in the Northern Tribes. The Northern Tribespeople prided themselves on their warriors, and each warrior collected scars from their battles to prove that they only ever fought increasingly difficult enemies. If Kalle''s facial scar had been the result of a hunt or victorious duel, it should be covered in a tattoo that told the story of his victory. The uninked scar Kalle displayed so openly could only be a sign of shame.


    Moreover, the Northern Tribes famously scorned studying alchemy. Kalle had been a respected alchemist in Techoria even if he was not on the Council, and there were many other Free Cities where he could have taken refuge and received an alchemist''s welcome. Kalle held enough standing with his inventions that even a rival City of Alchemy like Zaem would have gladly welcomed him.


    Yet the Northerner was now in JiangXi, within the Empire. A Border City of the Empire, but within the Empire nevertheless. And the Empire was not known for being kind to alchemists.


    They fell silent as the food arrived. Molam waited for the barmaid to move on before he pushed a cup of mead to Kalle. "Well then. We came here to discuss the person I want to find."


    "Before we get into that, I have a question for you." Kalle put away a curious glass piece he had been playing with while they had waited for the food and picked up his cup. "Since when were you affiliated with Sanctuary?"


    "I think your real question is whether that''s why Flangel the Wise personally showed me around Techoria." Molam avoided Kalle''s gaze, sipping at his own cup and biting hungrily into the honeyed bread. The spiced mead tickled at his throat and it paired well with the soothing sweetness of the bread, a famous product of JiangXi.


    "That was going to be my next question," Kalle admitted.


    "To be frank, I met the Oracle five years ago. I''ve been¡­" Molam paused, searching for the right phrase, "accomplishing tasks for her. In fact, that''s why I''m here," he continued, giving the alchemist a smile. "I don''t believe the Head Priestess referred me to you to buy warming stones."


    The alchemist snorted, tearing off a chunk of honeyed bread and biting into it. "I see that part of you hasn''t changed."


    "Which part?" Molam wondered, taken aback by his own curiosity.


    "The bit where you''re always rushing. Single-minded." Kalle brushed some crumbs off his fingers. "And people tell me alchemists are the ones with devotion to their goals."


    Molam blinked slowly. "That''s quite the praise."


    "That''s only praise if you''re aiming for a seat on the Council." Kalle took a swig of his mead. "Look, Molam. We might not be close friends, but neither are we strangers. I noticed back when you went by Carlton that you only took interest in things that you could potentially use, like when you were asking me about the flameproof cloak and firepowder. Did you forget how you slighted the other Master Alchemists when you found their theses boring?"


    "I could hardly be expected to sit there wasting my time listening to theories that I have no interest in." Molam leaned back defensively. "Nor am I an alchemist. They may have been speaking to me but that was merely a convenient excuse for them to talk about their theories in front of Flangel the Wise so he could hear it. Why should I put up with them using me? If they wanted me to take notice, perhaps they should start with why I should care."


    "Nevertheless," Kalle held up a thick finger. "Sometimes you need to remember that people should be heard before you expect them to listen. Master Flangel always said that life is in the mundanities, and that it is when we are bored that it is most important to pay attention. We can''t even catch up for a bit without you driving the topic towards what you want, and I wager you''ve already thought of how you''re going to get it from me."


    I may not understand human customs, but I daresay this Northerner has read you quite well. The spirit''s laughter echoed in his mind.


    Molam pressed his lips together as a memory surfaced. Priestess Komura had said something similar to him a long time ago.


    "I will keep that in mind then," Molam picked apart some of his bread and ate it, washing it down with mead.


    "Good, good, you''re listening!" Kalle clapped a hand down onto the table and leaned forward. "For example, maybe the Head Priestess did refer you to me to buy warming stones. How many would you like?" The alchemist''s blue eyes twinkled at him. "Just for you, I''ll throw in an extra one for every nine you buy."


    "I don''t know if I have any need for warming stones," Molam wondered if the alchemist was intentionally teasing him. Did Kalle not just warn him about using others, yet now Kalle was trying to sell his own wares to him? "But I can say I wasn''t impressed with the Shrine''s tea, and they used your stones for that."


    "That''s not what they''re designed to do," Kalle reached into a pocket and then pulled out a black stone, sliding it to Molam. He picked it up, feeling the warmth radiating from the stone. "They''re warming stones, for people to keep in their pockets for chilly fingers. Not everyone''s lucky enough to be attuned to red aura."


    "Hm," Molam inspected it. It fit snugly in his palm, smooth with golden runic inscriptions in the Old Tongue on its surface.


    The alchemist bragged, "It''s a technique I pioneered, you know. The stones store up the Sun''s aura during the day and emit heat over time when in darkness."


    "If it''s not designed to do more than keep hands warm, then why are people using it for making tea?"


    Kalle''s face turned sheepish. "I think people are dropping them. Sometimes on purpose. I think what happened ¡ª and bear in mind, this is conjecture ¡ª someone discovered some of the cracked stones will release the stored aura at a faster pace. But it''s too dangerous that way. I''m actually working on prototyping heating stones and maybe cooking stones, but it''s hard to tune the inscriptions just right. I''ve burnt a few fingers already."


    "Do they need to be called stones?" Molam frowned.


    "I don''t think they need to be, but the name is hardly important for their intended use. Would you like to buy some?"


    "As interesting as that is, I don''t think I need any right now," Molam slid it back to Kalle. "Though I will buy more flameproof garments from you if you have those."


    The alchemist leaned closer, excited. "I almost forgot to ask you: Did the flameproof cloak work for whatever you needed it for?"


    Molam thought of the palace in Crimson City, which was quickly replaced by the guilt of the fire he had started in the Slumbering Forest. "It worked perfectly fine for why I bought it, but even better, I found an unexpected use for it. I must say, your work is phenomenal."Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    "I would hope so. The material and coating took half a year to refine." Kalle leaned in eagerly, his blue eyes shining with curiosity. "What did you end up using it for? How hot was the fire? Are there any problems with it?"


    "It''s not something I care to remember right now, but I will tell you that it saved my life." Molam wanted to move on from the guilty memory of starting the fire in the Slumbering Forest, but he still had to ask. "Can you make more? I was hoping for a way to cover my head fully. Ideally allowing me to breathe for a lengthy period of time... while surrounded by fire."


    "Hmm. That''s an interesting ask. I would need to come up with something to help you filter the impurities in the air and more..." Kalle leaned back into his chair, wincing visibly at the audible creaking. "Most of my tools for the coating are still left in my workshop in Techoria. It will take me time to source the necessary materials here."


    "Which reminds me: why are you here, Kalle?" Molam remembered what the alchemist had mentioned about the Empire''s Red Army being outside of Techoria. "If there''s two divisions about to lay siege on Techoria, shouldn''t all the alchemists be readying for war? I find it curious that you would¡­" Molam hesitated, not wanting to insult Kalle''s Northern heritage by accusing him of fleeing. "Be here."


    "I didn''t flee, if that''s what you''re thinking." Kalle stroked his scruff in annoyance. "I was slated to come here long before Techoria''s Council found out about the Red Army. Master Flangel convinced me to come to JiangXi early, just in case. I''d have stayed if I could."


    Molam sensed Kalle''s guilt, so he hastily added, "If it''s any consolation, Techoria has never fallen. In fact, it''s even repelled EarthShaker in the past, making it one of the only cities that has survived a dragon. Only a fool would attack Techoria while it has the SunFlower." Though Molam had only seen it from afar while visiting and it had not been active at the time, the SunFlower had earned its reputation as Techoria''s greatest defense. A weapon that could launch a strike of aura strong enough to repel a dragon or project an impenetrable Domain-like shield around the city, allegedly powered from the combined aura of all the city''s inhabitants.


    "Well yes, the SunFlower. You know, it inspired my design for the warming stones. Well, it was a result of my failure trying to replicate the SunFlower, but Master Flangel has always kept the SunFlower''s design a secret."


    The Prince wants the SunFlower.


    Molam kept his face passive, mentally noting that he should really make time to ask the spirit to share what information it had yet to share with him. Part of him wondered if he could chastise the spirit for not telling him any of this on their way to JiangXi.


    "Of course, I''m not too worried about Techoria," Kalle attacked his honeyed bread again, chewing and washing it down with the mead between bites. "Flangel the Wise and Nettie have been tinkering with the SunFlower. I haven''t seen it in action, but if Nettie is involved it must be far more efficient than the one that defended Techoria from the Red Army the last time."


    "Nettie?"


    "Oh. The newest Prodigy. She''s still a child, but ¡­" Kalle shrugged. "Well, if you''ve seen what she''s created, her genius is uncontestable. Even those stubborn goats on the Council were forced to agree when they saw her submission for last year''s Festival of Progress. Some think she might be the best Prodigy since the Great Sage Vareon, better than even Master Flangel himself."


    "Are you trying to convince me that you aren''t worried? Because it sounds like you''re trying to convince yourself." Molam prodded. He vaguely recalled information about a new inheritor to the Title of Prodigy, but the fact that she was a child was news to Molam. "Techoria has the SunFlower and it''s been improved by the newest Prodigy, so I doubt two divisions could do anything about it. What aren''t you telling me, Kalle?"


    Kalle laughed nervously. He looked about them at the crowded inn and leaned closer to Molam, his voice dropping to a whisper, "Master Flangel thinks the Prince is part of the besieging force."


    Molam sipped at his mead without a change in tempo despite hearing his own blood pounding in his ears. "You''re afraid of a repeat of Kamisukawa."


    "He is the Bloo¡ª" Kalle''s eyes darted around, confirmed that no one was paying attention, then continued, "¡ªBloody Prince for a reason, Molam."


    Molam raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps it''s just a cordial trip. Surely you know that Flangel the Wise and the Prince had a master-student relationship, no?"


    "You let me know how cordial you feel when a student comes visiting you with two divisions of the Red Army," Kalle seemed frustrated. "Especially one that has so many Titles. Burner of Rivers. Butcher of Kamisukawa. The Bloody Prince."


    Silence fell in their corner as Molam sipped at his mead. He understood Kalle''s frustration and worry. Ever since the Massacre of Kamisukawa some eighty years ago, the Prince barely left the Empire without notifying any of the Free Cities to manage tensions and expectations. The Free Cities would give their residents warnings ahead of the Prince''s visit so individuals could determine if they would like to leave beforehand.


    He wants the SunFlower. The spirit reminded Molam in his head in a tone that seemed overly smug. It seems serious enough for the Prince to personally retrieve.


    Molam signaled for the barmaid to refill their mead. "I''m surprised Techoria''s residents didn''t mass evacuate."


    "And where would alchemists go to escape him? To Zaem, where those greedy fools can''t see past their own ledger?" Kalle snorted. "Maybe if running to Zaem could get the Bloody Prince to destroy it. No, Techoria might not even be two centuries old, but it has all of the instruments the alchemists before us have built and left behind. It''s worth defending. And, there''s the SunFlower."


    Molam almost reminded Kalle that he had left, but then remembered that if Flangel the Wise had not urged him to leave, Kalle may have stayed. "The Empire failed to retake Techoria after the Fracturing. Then it repelled EarthShaker some thirty years ago. If a dragon couldn''t get past Techoria''s barrier, then Techoria will be safe."


    Kalle gulped at his mead, but kept an eye on Molam''s face. He put down the empty mug just as the barmaid brought their refills. "I suppose that''s why I''m worried. The Empire has left Techoria alone for so long. They wouldn''t make a move without adequate preparation."


    Or without a good reason, thought Molam. And according to the spirit, the Prince now had a good reason to attack Techoria. While he didn''t fully understand the Empire or Techoria''s relative strengths, he could still think of many methods for the Empire to win against Techoria''s supposedly impenetrable barrier. He pressed his lips together as he thought of the Red Army starving out Techoria''s residents, but did not speak up to worsen Kalle''s worry.


    Wait. If the Empire only marched on Techoria with a good reason, then what about Kalle? Molam wondered if this could be connected to what he was looking for.


    He went for a roundabout method. "So earlier, when you said you were ''doing what you can'' about Techoria, I assume it''s related to Flangel the Wise encouraging you to come to JiangXi. What are you doing here?"


    Kalle''s look shifted, then he leaned forward to Molam.


    "Perhaps this city could be Free."


    The words, spoken with barely more than a murmur, carried a deafening meaning against the loud backdrop of the inn. Molam''s eyes darted to the side to ensure no one else was within earshot while his thoughts raced, knowing Kalle was expecting a response.


    "What, no reaction?" Kalle leaned back, a twinkle in his eyes. "The person you''re looking for is the one I''m working with to Free this city."


    Molam frowned, searching for the reason why Kalle could freely admit that to him without any assurances. He then remembered the glass piece Kalle had been playing with. "I thought you weren''t capable of Seeing."


    Kalle bowed his head slightly, "And you are correct."


    "That glass piece¡­" Molam tilted his head towards Kalle''s hand, "It''s not because you''re nearsighted in your left eye, is it?"


    A grin slowly developed onto the alchemist''s face. "No, it''s not. Well observed," the man leaned closer and whispered, "One clad in a protection of white."


    The way Kalle admitted it seemed designed to throw him off, but Molam pretended to ignore it. "An interesting invention. Yours?"


    "No, I wish I was this capable. The Prodigy invented it and I managed to get my hands on one, though they''re very difficult to produce. What gave it away?"


    Molam sipped at his mead again before responding. "You never struck me as one who would play such a dangerous gamble as to say something like that to someone without certainty. Especially if I was looking for our mutual¡­ friend."


    "Of course. Well, I hadn''t expected to meet you here, or that you would be ¡­ " Kalle made a show of peering at Molam through the glass piece, "...cloaked in such an interesting color."


    Molam pointed to the glass piece. "How many of those were created?"


    He wanted one, but was unsure of how much it would cost. Anything to reduce the gap between him and others that could use aura. Even if it would not help him use aura, the fact that it enabled one to See would make it a worthy acquisition in and of itself.


    "Oh, these? Don''t bother, the Prodigy only created several of them, and it''s hardly something that can replace true Sight given that it only shows color. But enough about this," Kalle tapped the table with an impatient finger and his eyes glimmered. "I assume you''re looking because you want to join?"


    Molam paused, then smiled at Kalle. "By all means."


    Stuffing the last bit of honeyed bread into his mouth, Kalle nodded as he chewed and stood up. Molam raised an eyebrow, but Kalle chewed in silence, his eyes looking to the side. Molam followed the gaze and saw the barmaid approaching their table with an expectant look, only for Kalle to point at Molam.


    "I thought alchemists had no want for money." He counted out his coin and put it onto the table. "You''re stingy for an alchemist."


    "But I''m very open with what I know." Kalle responded in a playfully sweet tone. "And I know which of the two you consider more valuable."


    Molam followed Kalle, the bigger man clearing a way through the crowded inn as they left the warm interiors of the building. The afternoon Sun cast an angled shadow on the walls opposite them.


    "Where to?" Molam waited as Kalle pulled on his gloves.


    "Somewhere," Kalle spoke in a vague tone as he pulled out a black cloth bag and offered it to Molam. Molam took it with a feeling of alarm.


    "I can bring you there, but I can''t let you know where," the alchemist clarified. He looked almost awkward in the way he couldn''t meet Molam''s gaze. "Sorry, but we recently had an incident and internal tensions are high right now. This will require you to trust me and put that on when I say so."


    "Well that''s one way to get myself killed." Molam kept his tone even, not accusing but not fully in compliance. "And to think I just bought you food."


    The alchemist held out his gloved hands disarmingly. "Her safety ¡ª our safety ¡ª is a matter of utmost importance to us."


    Molam''s mind raced at the idea of trusting Kalle in this manner, but then the spirit''s voice overrode his thoughts.


    I will keep you safe.


    Looking at Kalle with a sense of unease, Molam nodded. "I will put it on but I won''t tighten it. And I will take it off if I feel that I am in danger. Is that alright?"


    Kalle nodded. "That''s fine with me. The whole purpose is to ensure you don''t know where I am taking you enough to retrace it."


    "Alright then. Lead the way."

 Ch 11: Flower

    The wind blows, yet by the time you see the boughs shake and the leaves fall, the wind has already gone.


    Life''s greatest tragedy is that most only experience it after it has left.


    ¡ª Excerpt from Lost Winds, by an unnamed traveler. Unfinished copy written in the Old Tongue, stored at the Fallen Star Pavilion.


    <hr>


    "And I say this with finality, Lyka: I''m vouching for him. Let Primrose decide. Logically speaking, there''s no need to keep his head covered either? He''s already here."


    Kalle''s tone carried too much of a worried pitch for Molam to relax, but he was already forcing himself to avoid tensing up lest the blade dug any deeper into his neck. The hood had been tightened around his neck almost immediately as he entered some building and his sword stripped from him. Despite Kalle''s vocal objections, various hands pushed him into what seemed like a room and forced him into a chair. He didn''t bother struggling when they tied his hands behind his back with rope ¡ª the memory of the boy beating him was still fresh in his mind. Though he could not see, he could hear the voices of several people around him.


    "While Prim is gone, I decide the matters of our safety." Judging by the way the blade was gripped to his neck and the immediate vicinity of the voice, the woman named Lyka held his life in her hands. "Where were you all afternoon, Kalle? You go up to the Shrine and then disappear for some time before coming back here with an unknown? Perhaps you''re not as trustworthy as you say?"


    "I said I brought him here to meet Primrose."


    "And you think Prim should just meet anyone, is that it? You were brought in to be our alchemist. Focus on what you should be doing, not gallivanting about the city right before Winter''s Sorrow."


    "You think I''m the one not focusing? How about you stop trying to side-eye everyone that wants to join, Lyka? As the jail cells fill up with our members ¨C what''s your plan for replacing them? Or are you content with just allowing the city guards to bleed our manpower dry?"


    "This is me focusing: on protecting us!" Lyka''s voice took on an icy tone. "We haven''t even found the person leaking our movements to the city guard and you''re trying to introduce more people to our group? What if this one''s a spy? On what basis did you bring him back?"


    Kalle didn''t answer immediately and Molam spoke softly, feeling the cold blade against his neck. "That''s for Primrose to know right now."


    "I don''t remember asking you a question or giving you permission to speak." Lyka''s voice hissed into his ear. The blade''s pressure increased and Molam hoped that the spirit''s lack of intervention meant he was truly safe.


    "I understand you''re wary after last week''s raid, but this is not it, Lyka." Kalle''s raised voice barked out with a sense of wariness. "It''s important that Primrose sees him."


    "You''re very intent on getting Prim in the same room as this unknown, Kalle." The cold blade withdrew from Molam''s neck. "What if you''re the problem?"


    "Lyka," several voices objected. "There''s no problem questioning the outsider, but Primrose trusts Kalle."


    "A knife, Lyka?" Kalle''s voice dropped lower. "At least bring your spear."


    "I don''t need my spear to slit a throat." Lyka emphasized the last word.


    Even with his head covered and unable to see, Molam did not need the finger grip digging into his shoulder to feel the tension in the room.


    A melodic voice floated through the air. "And since when, may I ask, did we have the numbers to consider culling our own people even further at this critical time?"


    Kalle''s voice seemed more subdued, relaxed. "Primrose. I ¡ª"


    "Prim!" The woman named Lyka''s voice, though still loud, was more restrained as well. "Kalle brought some unknown man back here."


    "You''re making this sound like a lover''s quarrel, Lyka," the voice of Primrose barely hid the mirth of her amusement, "Do we need this many gathered in one room to solve this issue?"


    Footsteps. One by one, he heard people exiting the room, but Molam could not be sure how many left as he breathed into the darkness of the black hood.


    "Now," Primrose''s voice continued harmoniously alongside the sound of a chair being shifted. "Perhaps one of you can inform me as to the dispute we have here?"


    Kalle and Lyka''s voices rose in unison as they answered at the same time, and it was then that he heard the spirit''s voice in his head.


    Stay alert. This one is subtle with her Charm.


    "¡ªand if this one is a spy for the City Lord Agytha? Prim, I say we kill the unknown. Better to be safe than to be at risk."


    "He''s not unknown," Kalle''s voice cut in. "Primrose, I know him from before. Just...take a look at him with your Sight."


    A moment passed. Then two. Molam heard nothing but the sound of his own breathing in the darkness of the black bag.


    Then, "May I have some time alone with our newest member?"


    "Prim¡ª" Lyka''s voice protested, "As your guard, I should stay here with you just in case¡ª"


    "Respect Primrose''s decision, Lyka." Kalle''s voice seemed triumphant. "She has declared him a member."


    "The two of you have other tasks. Kalle, we need a new batch of warming stones by tomorrow morning. And Lyka, go see if Shurra needs any help, will you? I trust you have tied his wrists together quite well for me."


    "But¡ª"


    "Lyka." The melodic harmony of the voice seemed less soft now.


    "I will stand outside. If you need me, you can ¡ª"


    "If you insist on guarding someone, then might I suggest guarding Kalle? I think he tends to forget how dangerous it can be in the workshop we prepared for him and I would like to avoid the difficulty of replacing our alchemist. Kalle, bring Lyka with you, please."


    The sounds of shifting feet and feeble protests, then the door opened and closed.


    Silence.


    A slow thrumming sound of the legs of a chair being dragged across the ground. Then, a soft swish of cloth as someone sat down again.


    "Well then," Primrose''s voice was closer now. It felt as though that alluring voice was intimately close, yet there was no sense of her breath in his ears. The sensation made him dizzy; it made no sense that one person could whisper in both ears at the same time. "That''s an interesting color. Could you tell me about yourself?"


    Molam took a breath and kept his tone neutral. "It seems improper for us to have a conversation as fellow members when I have this hood over my head and my hands tied behind my back."


    "He speaks," Primrose''s voice contained a note of curiosity, "Yet refuses to answer a question."


    Fingers loosened the hood around his neck and the cover was pulled off of his face, leaving Molam blinking in the candlelight. As his eyes adjusted, his breath caught in his throat at the sight of the woman named Primrose.


    Long eyelashes and well-groomed eyebrows decorated her large purple eyes. But more importantly was the voluminous, curly, burnt-orange hair that framed her face ¡ª and the blue flowers that adorned those fiery locks. The contrast of colors made the flowers stand out even more as the subtle ripples of her hair gave one the illusion of flames in which those flowers bloomed.


    She lazed in her chair with her legs crossed and the hood dangling from a hand that draped to the side. The other arm was hanging on the back of her chair out of sight. It would have created the impression of a laid back woman, if her gaze wasn''t observing his every movement as he looked around at the room.


    It was small and bare, with a broken window that had been boarded up on his left and a solitary door behind her. The flooring was of dull-colored wood and lit candles were placed at the two corners he could see.


    "Well?" Her glowing purple eyes locked onto his. "Do you feel like talking now?"


    "And my hands?" Molam made no change in his tone.


    She smiled slowly, her lips widening without showing teeth.


    "You would have to pardon a woman''s precaution, for a woman and a man alone in a room can lead to¡­" she let the hood drop from her hand as she leaned closer to him and placed her chin on her palm, "...dangerous outcomes. We recently had an incident that resulted in us losing quite a few members, and many in the group suspect we might have a traitor. Rest assured, however: if you honestly answer my questions to my satisfaction I will release you. Undoing your hood is a show of my sincerity."


    "Very sincere," Molam shifted his eyes away from the bewitching eyes. "Ask away."


    "Perhaps we could start with your name? And would you be so kind as to answer my question from earlier?"


    Molam stretched his shoulders and neck, making her wait before he answered. "Molam."


    When it was clear that he had nothing more to say, she exhaled with disappointment. "Sincerity should be met with sincerity, don''t you think?"


    Rolling his shoulders, Molam made a show of his hands being bound behind himself. "I am compromising as you have."


    Primrose tilted her chin up and her glowing purple eyes narrowed. For a brief moment, her eyes reminded Molam of another set of eyes, dark blue this time, and his breath caught in his throat. Just like with GloomSire, Molam could not tell if Primrose''s Sight included being able to tell if someone was lying and reminded himself to be careful with what he said.


    "And what is your relation to the Oracle?"


    He glanced at the blue flowers in Primrose''s red hair. "The Oracle told me to look for you, and so here I am."


    "To find me, is it?" She gave him a lengthy appraising look. "Can you tell me what specifically she said?"


    He hesitated briefly, contemplating the likelihood that he may be utterly wrong about the situation, then decided it was too far along to shy away from the topic and went with honesty. "The Oracle instructed me to come to JiangXi and search for you. I asked at the Shrine, and the Head Priestess introduced Kalle to me. We already knew each other, and when I told him who I was looking for, he brought me here. And now¡­" Molam directed his eyes pointedly at Primrose''s burnt-orange hair with its light-blue flowers, "I believe the phrase ''the flowers that bloom in flames'' would mean something to you."


    Primrose''s gaze never left his eyes while he spoke, though her brow furrowed when he repeated the Oracle''s hint. She stared at him for a long moment after he finished speaking, then shifted in her seat.


    "These," Primrose gestured at the blue flowers in her hair, "Are called satem flowers. When I met the Oracle several years ago, she suggested I once again take up the tradition of my ... upbringing. That phrase would confirm to me that you are the person I am waiting for. I''m surprised you got this far: she can be frustratingly cryptic, given the restrictions she has. Was it by luck?"


    Though Molam had never heard of a tribe, clan, or named family that wore flowers in their hair, the practice did not seem off to him. More importantly, Primrose claimed to also have met the Oracle many years ago and now he understood what the Oracle had meant when she said she had prepared what he needed.


    "I was ''lucky'' that she had already put most of this together for me. Some would even call it preordained, for lack of a better term." Molam loosened his shoulders even more and stretched his neck before he responded. "I suppose this little group of yours came to be at the Oracle''s request."


    "Quite. This little movement has been a few years in the making." Primrose smiled, a slow curve of the left side of her lips. "And now, you are here."The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Frustration mounted again; anger radiated within his navel at the realization that if the Oracle had planned all of this years in advance, she had perhaps not wanted him to go home in the first place. Or had it been RainBringer? Did the Oracle plan this knowing she would not open the Stairs for him, or had she thought that he would come back down the Stairs again?


    "You seem angry that you aren''t the only one to have met the Oracle." Primrose''s glowing eyes hadn''t left his face.


    Molam saw no reason to correct Primrose''s misreading as he resigned himself to accepting the present circumstances. What the Oracle had planned for, what RainBringer had planned for, he couldn''t confirm any of it now and it didn''t matter when he considered what Priestess Komura had reminded him of. "You were waiting for me."


    "Yes. I was beginning to wonder if the Oracle had forgotten she promised me someone, though I must say: You are not quite what I expected."


    "You were hoping for the Whale of ZhiXia." He said wryly.


    "I had hoped. Or any Titled One for that matter. But as you are the one wearing the color of her approval, I can only trust her judgment." Primrose leaned in close, bringing the subtle scent of the satem flowers to his nose as her eyes locked against his in a searching manner. "So tell me: why are you here?"


    Molam looked her in the eye. "Because I want to go home."


    Primrose''s eyes widened and she laughed, starting with a soft restrained tinkling that became a full-on giggle, one that had her doubled over in hysteria for several moments before she regained her composure. "Now that," she admitted, "Was not the answer I expected at all. Perhaps you didn''t understand my question?" Her voice took on a more serious tone. "I want to know why the Oracle sent you here."


    He thought of what RainBringer wanted, and what the Oracle wanted, then shoved those thoughts aside as he focused on Primrose''s question. He asked himself the very same thing. The Oracle had told him that he was allowed to keep what he gained in the city for his own purposes, and that she had prepared everything he needed within JiangXi. He had thought she was going to give him an army then, and still had little answer about how he was going to transport the World Tree''s elderwood back to Sanctuary on his own. With a start, he looked at Primrose and through her, the opportunity she represented, given to him by the Oracle.


    He kept it simple and direct. "I am here to take control of JiangXi. I suppose I''ll start by leading."


    Primrose leaned back, placing her chin against a closed hand, her expression inscrutable. "What makes you think you can?"


    "I can understand that this is very sudden and unexpected given my unannounced arrival." Molam kept a firm tone even as he challenged her. "But to correct any potential misunderstanding about the reason why I am here: The Oracle sent me here to lead what you''ve built."


    Primrose''s eyes narrowed and she did not respond immediately. When she finally spoke, her voice contained a thin edge. "You are speaking quite boldly for someone tied to a chair."


    Molam lifted his chin, baring his throat. "I''ve traveled a long way to do what the Oracle believes I am best at. Either I walk out of here with your support ..." He allowed the pause to hang, "or I shouldn''t walk out of here at all."


    "You were right that I have been waiting for the Oracle to send someone," Primrose spoke slowly, a finger twirling a curly lock of hair, "But surely you understand this can''t be that simple. The people I lead would be hesitant to follow an untested leader such as yourself ¡ª chosen by the Oracle or not. And seeing as you did not walk in here shouting about being sent by the Oracle despite having a blade held to your throat, I believe you have a reason for keeping it hidden."


    Seeing him nod at her statement, she continued.


    "And so you bring to me two problems ¨C we have no Titled Ones of our own, and the one the Oracle sent has no merits that could get the group to fall in line. Perhaps you could give me a reason to convince them to listen to you?"


    Molam closed his eyes and inhaled slowly as he thought. Primrose''s words made sense, and for a brief moment he almost wanted to say that he stole from the Shrine in Crimson City. But he decided against it. The goal here was to convince the people she gathered that he was worth following.


    "Well?" She prodded.


    He pressed his lips together at her urgency, the beginning of a plan forming in his mind as he organized what he had learnt about the city. "The people that were lost to the city guards. They''re still alive, I assume? We will free them."


    "We?"


    "Us. Though you can give the order," Molam conceded, "The plan is mine. I don''t know if you have a plan for freeing those members? If my plan succeeds, the freed members will know who to thank. And while we''re at it, perhaps we will Free the city too."


    "Quite the declaration. Do enlighten me as to what will happen should your plan fail and all of this amounts to nothing?"


    "Your caution is noted, but the Oracle chose me for a reason." Molam held the gaze of her glowing eyes as he said firmly, "Right now the Tempest is away and the city''s residents are desperate. We won''t fail."


    Hesitation flitted across Primrose''s eyebrows and her lips pressed together, her glowing eyes searching his determined face.


    "You seem disillusioned enough to believe what you are saying. I haven''t had someone use my Sight against me in a long time." Primrose closed her eyes and laughed grimly before looking at him again, the purple glow gone. "Very well, I''ll agree to your terms. And should we succeed, I will inform the rest that it was your strategy that accomplished this, and look for a way to share leadership." Molam frowned at this, but Primrose continued. "Now, there''s just one more thing¡­"


    He resisted the urge to snap his gaze back to her with alarm, instead meeting her eyes slowly.


    "What is it?"


    "Perhaps you could help assuage my feeling of unease." She had shifted without him noticing, and Molam felt his stomach lurch as he became more aware of Primrose''s hidden arm no longer swaying out of sight behind the chair. "It might be due to your sincerity and unwillingness to come across as belligerent that you''ve allowed yourself to be shackled by mere rope. But even if the Oracle did not send me the Whale of ZhiXia, surely you are trained in aura?" Her features seemed to harden. "Though I don''t doubt you have the Oracle''s aura cloaking you, it would be remiss of me to not wonder: why do I only See white?"


    A wan smile crept across Molam''s face. "I wouldn''t know. I cannot See."


    But she did not relent. "I wonder ¨C can you release yourself?"


    Molam''s mind drew a blank even as he instinctively flexed his wrists against the rope that bound him. Only one option available to him, and he rubbed his wrists together in the hopes that the spirit was listening.


    I suppose I will deign to help you here.


    The rope around his wrists erupted in flames and Molam almost flinched, but he kept his gaze level at Primrose as the strands burned and became ash, the scent of burning rope filling the room. When the rope had burnt through, Molam rolled his shoulders and pulled his hands to the front and blew away the ash on his hands. He was grateful for the spirit''s mindfulness in not burning him as well.


    Molam stretched his sore muscles and rubbed the feeling back into his wrists as he looked at Primrose, whose face was inscrutable. The door burst open as a dark-skinned woman ran in with a naked spear.


    "Prim, I smelled smoke, and...how did this man become free?"


    He recognized her voice as Lyka''s as she stepped in between him and Primrose, the spear leveled at his chest.


    Pointedly ignoring Lyka''s spear, Molam deliberately mirrored Primrose''s sitting posture and laid his chin on a clenched fist.


    "Are you satisfied?"


    Primrose smiled, leaning forward to push aside Lyka''s speartip as she offered him a hand. "Welcome to our group, Molam. We have some work to do."


    ***


    You were in danger of dying.


    Molam lay down on the straw bed and relaxed his shoulders. Though the ropes around his wrists hadn''t been particularly tight, it had pinned his arms behind him in such a way that his shoulder and back muscles demanded reprieve. Primrose had moved him to another room, but it was one without windows and he had heard two people standing guard outside.


    But the private and hopefully temporary jail meant he could talk freely. "I had it all under control."


    Did you now? Including the part where you tempted both women to kill you? Both of them almost took you up on the offer.


    The exhaustion of the day''s events ran through his head as Molam pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes closed in thought. "Primrose wouldn''t have. I''m just moving a bit fast for her to adjust. I wish the Oracle had told me more about what to expect, but I suppose this lack of proper explanation from her falls under whatever restrictions from the Gods she''s working with. Or maybe she thinks that the less I know the more I need to rely on her."


    Being auraless, you don''t have much of a choice but to rely on those that possess it.


    "It''s not something under my control, is it?" Molam grit his teeth, then relaxed his jaw. "I don''t want to get into another argument, but is it something you presume I don''t think about all the while? As though it''s just something I can do if I simply put my mind to it?"


    Acknowledging you were inadequate will be a valuable lesson. Humans die easily and have no method of rebirth, yet you lack the self-preservation that others of your kind have with your relentless pursuit of increasingly dangerous stakes.


    "We might not be able to rebirth like you," Molam tried to break the moment with levity. "But at least one human has come back from the dead."


    What RainBringer''s daughter did for you was unique. Having already paid your aura as the price, your soul has nothing else to offer God Yven. Be careful with your life.


    Molam rolled onto his side. "I''m alive. The moment has passed. Instead of worrying about aura I can''t even see, I have other things to think about, like trying to locate the World Tree''s elderwood for your rebirth."


    Lacking something is no adequate excuse for ceding one''s control over preparing for it.


    The words haunted him. Annoyingly so, like when they had first met and he had almost been killed by the spirit until it read his memories. Yes, he had not planned around it. But there was no such thing as a perfect plan. There were always going to be unknowns.


    There were always going to be things he could not control.


    "I have not ceded control over it. I just¡­" He sighed, "I''m working around something I don''t have and don''t understand. I feel blind to what everyone else can sense and the worst that can happen is to reveal it."


    I can tell you to the best of my ability, but lying for your pride only serves to hurt yourself.


    The words stung despite the spirit''s offer. "Then tell me. Start with Primrose. What was that at the start? It was like it was impossible for anyone to refuse her." He left off the bit where he almost confused Primrose''s voice for the voice of RainBringer''s daughter.


    As I said, Charm. Quite a high level skill, on her end. Not quite at the level of a Titled One, but enough to make it difficult for anyone below a Titled One to refuse her.


    Feeling a sense of contrite shame at his earlier anger, Molam murmured, "Thank you for keeping my head clear then."


    On the contrary, because you cannot perceive aura it has a muted effect on you.


    "Oh." Molam felt sheepish at his premature admission of gratitude. "Well in that case ¡ª"


    But nevertheless, I am still your benefactor. Or did you forget my help at the end?


    Molam smiled at the spirit''s change of tone despite his sore shoulders. "Yes, yes. Well then, I''m glad we found another use for you besides keeping me informed about dangers that I cannot detect." Molam sighed, wanting to rest but his thoughts were swirling with what he had learned and how he could best use it. "We will need to come up with ways for me to tell you I need your help. At least several nonverbal actions, but I assume you''re always listening anyway?"


    Masquerading as someone that can use aura now? Imagine how many times you would have died without me.


    "Well then, should I consider it the Gods'' blessing for me to have you here to remind me about my mortality?" Molam twisted back onto his back again, staring up at the ceiling in the dark room, lit only by the light that peeked in from under the door. He stretched his neck to the side, holding the position to ensure that he was still limber. "Not to mention you barely did anything when we met GloomSire."


    That one was dangerous, yes. I would have done something about it if he meant you harm, but even a burgeoning Titled One is a bit too much for what I can do with this feather.


    Molam closed his eyes, trying to focus his thoughts on how he was going to readjust his interactions with the spirit as they chattered away about what the spirit could do and how he could signal it. But the spirit''s words and their meaning echoed soundlessly in his thoughts, haunting him the way words always did when he had a nagging feeling the speaker was right.


    An image of Primrose, sitting across from him, sprang to mind. How would she kill him? Would he even know?


    The image of Primrose brushed back her hair and the orange flames cascaded down her back; his eyes unfocused and he found himself bound once again. But it wasn''t just his wrists ¡ª all of him was bound, his limbs restricted painfully as the flames surrounded him. And behind Primrose, the shadows of all the people of his original village.


    As a child he had made the mistake of trusting those that could take his life. The Oracle may have prepared this group for him, but Molam had no interest in making the same mistake again. Five years of wandering the land had taught him that people were the same everywhere.


    And they couldn''t be trusted.


    ***


    Primrose walked to her room, seeing Lyka sitting on the bed with her back turned to her, dabbing an oiled cloth against her speartip. She closed the door and sat down on the bed, their backs touching as Primrose loosened the daggers hidden around her body, setting them to the side one by one for inspection.


    "So this is the one you''ve been waiting for." Lyka''s voice echoed from behind her. "Given how little you''ve talked about the intended leader for the better part of the last few months, I thought they would never show up."


    Primrose held out a hand and felt Lyka give her the oiled cloth. Dabbing the cloth gently at one of the blades, she admitted, "I suppose I lost faith too. Or I was simply too distracted by all the happenings around JiangXi."


    "No one can blame you for that. It has been quite a difficult year."


    "But now that he''s here," Primrose inspected the dagger, then slipped it into its leather sheath and slipped the rest under the pillow. "Things will be different. The Oracle''s role for me to find people has kept me out in the open for too much. When Molam takes my position and I can return to my specialties, I hope you get along with him as his guard."


    A hand on Primrose''s shoulder made her turn to see Lyka''s amber eyes, her gaze full of worry. "That would separate us."


    Primrose slipped a hand under Lyka''s reach and gently tapped Lyka''s nose. "Only when we go about our duties. We can always find each other for rest."


    Lyka''s nose twitched at her touch, but her cautious nature continued. "What if I don''t believe Molam should lead? I guard our leader. And that''s you, Prim."


    "It''s a lot to ask of you and anyone to immediately place your trust with him, so I won''t. Place your trust with me, Lyka, and that I know what I''m doing." Primrose caressed Lyka''s chin and placed their foreheads together. "Or at least, the Oracle knows who she''s choosing. Whom you guard should have no measured impact on how you guard them, yes? Carry out your duty, Lyka."


    "My duty." Lyka''s eyebrows furrowed, then she looked away, her hand falling from Primrose''s shoulder. "I never thought I''d admit this openly, but sometimes I wish I didn''t have duties."


    "Don''t we all," Primrose stood up and began untwisting a satem flower from her hair.


    "What are you doing?" Lyka stood up in alarm.


    "I only wore these for so many years so the Oracle could tell Molam how to truly find me. They''ve served their purpose."


    Clambering over the bed at her, Lyka''s hand gripped gently at her arm. "I like the look."


    Primrose laughed. "Do you know how hard it is twisting these in every day?"


    "And the results are astounding, Prim. You could even try other flowers now, right?" Lyka pulled her into a hug and then they fell onto the bed, then she brushed a stray strand of hair away from Primrose''s face. "I think the flowers should stay. Don''t be ashamed of where you came from, Prim. I''ve barely seen any flowers growing up in the Endless Sands and you''ve shown me so many."


    Primrose pressed Lyka''s forehead to her lips, then held her close as they cuddled for warmth.


    "I''ll keep the flowers in then." She promised. "And like that dream you had, we''ll have a place where we grow our own one day, Lyka. Once we''ve done our duty and sown the seeds of tomorrow."


    "Once we''ve done our duty." Lyka echoed. "I can only hope there''s still a place for us, then."


    Their fingers entwined as they drifted off to sleep.

 Ch 12: Burden of Command

    The decade after the Massacre of Kamisukawa was a period of tense and unexpected peace. Though the rest of the Free Cities prepared themselves for an all-out war with the Empire of the Sun, it seemed that the Prince was content with placing the blame of the Frost Saint''s Rebellion wholly on the Frozen Saint.


    After he bound the Mothers of the Northern Tribes to deliver tributary goods to the Empire, the Prince himself disappeared from all state affairs for a decade. The only proof that he lived in Crimson City was his ever-present Domain hanging over the city''s territory like a watchful predator and when the Chancellors needed the Prince to settle disagreements with his seal of approval.


    ¡ª Excerpt from Prince of the Sun, by Scholar Nemuria of the Fallen Star Pavilion


    <hr>


    Primrose insisted Molam stay within the hideout under her supervision and he obliged, taking care to avoid Lyka''s smoldering glares. Someone was sent to collect his items from the inn and Primrose introduced Molam to the rest of the group''s members.


    An overwhelming number of the members were various residents of the city that disliked City Lord Agytha''s administration and sudden large amount of interference with the city''s trade. While the Empire''s various conquered territories meant that there were all sorts of cultures within its territory, a border city like JiangXi had a particularly large mix and Molam saw it reflected in the group that Primrose had gathered.


    "A strategist, one that will lead us to different victories," she said to them. She and Molam had agreed on what to say beforehand, and he ensured she would keep the knowledge of the Oracle''s aura a secret for now as well. The less people in the organization knew of it, the less likely a loose tongue would alert the city guards.


    But Primrose pointed out that Kalle already knew, and that Lyka potentially suspected. Luckily, they were part of the group''s leadership and she argued that the last member of leadership should know as well to make it clear to them why Molam was joining the leadership ranks.


    "Just one more?" Molam asked. "You are the leader, Kalle''s the alchemist, Lyka''s a paranoid guardswoman, what''s the last one like?" He appreciated Primrose''s foresight with gathering a well-rounded group of people, and hoped that the last one was an expert in fighting.


    Doubt flitted over Primrose''s face, a similar look Molam received from inexperienced merchants wondering how much they should reveal, but then she smiled. "Shurra. Our master-at-arms, though you should understand that we aren''t a large fighting force. You''ll meet her tonight."


    ***


    That evening, Molam followed Primrose and Lyka into a room furthest in the back to find Kalle standing around a table with another Northerner woman that could only be Shurra.


    Primrose made brief introductions for them and then reiterated Molam''s position as their strategist. To Molam''s relief, Shurra did not echo anything similar to Lyka''s open displeasure at Primrose''s swift acceptance of him into their fold, only giving him a glance up and down before nodding.


    Shurra had the trademark physical looks of a Northern Tribesperson: fair-skinned, a large physique, crystal blue eyes, pale blonde hair and high cheekbones. A thin blue tattoo of a thunderbolt ran from the corner of her left eye down across her cheek to the top of her neck, decorating a thin scar in the custom of the Northern Tribes for a hard-won battle. On her waist hung a short sword that she had shifted to the side with practiced ease as they all sat down, the chair creaking audibly under her large frame. Molam couldn''t help but notice that despite the chair''s protest, she moved with a subtle grace.


    Shurra did not give a Tribesname and Molam wondered whether she was an outcast. It made sense for Kalle to not identify his Tribe for alchemists were expected to abandon kinship when they took upon the mantle of alchemy''s pursuit of knowledge, but one glance at Shurra indicated she was a true Northern Warrior.


    "You don''t look as though you are good in a fight." She made no move to greet him physically as she sized him up.


    Molam smiled at her. "Not all contributions are measured in physical strength." He then stepped to the side and allowed Lyka past him.


    Though Molam had purposefully avoided clashing with Lyka during the day, the tight confines of the room meant that he could avoid her no longer as she closed the door behind them and strode past him. She was slightly taller than him, with a balanced, lithe poise to her step. He caught a whiff of something that vaguely reminded him of some fruit he had once sampled during his travels. Her dark skin reflected a golden sheen in the candlelight as she pulled off her fur hood to reveal her short, wiry hair. She pulled out her chair and settled down with a scowl, her heavy lidded amber eyes flickering towards Molam.


    He remembered the fruit now ¨C moonmelon, from the Endless Sands ¨C and Lyka''s origin fell into place. Oasis, the Free City in the Endless Sands. Despite the Empire''s open borders and stated goal to accept all races, her ebony skin was a rare sight. The Oasis of the Endless Sands was rich beyond measure and there was little reason for their people to leave.


    They arranged themselves in their seats: Molam found Primrose on his right side and Kalle to his left. Lyka sat herself down to Primrose''s right side, her black spear leaning against her chair with the shaft reaching just over her shoulder for an easy reach. Shurra sat between Kalle and Lyka.


    The meeting proceeded in earnest, with each member relaying their activities and fulfillment of their own goals towards establishing a foothold in the city without the city guards considering them a threat. Kalle''s sale and distribution of the warming stones was being passed to other members now that the residents of JiangXi had given up on sourcing wood for the coming Winter''s Sorrow. The flow of people coming into contact with their members provided a good source of information from the residents themselves, and their collective faces darkened at the level of desperation rife within the city.


    "Can we increase production of your warming stones, Kalle?" Primrose asked.


    The alchemist held out his hands. "The people you lent me can make the base materials, but I can''t teach them runic carving without losing too many materials in the process of practicing."


    "I assume quality must be met at a minimum?"


    "Of course." Kalle seemed almost offended. "The best case if it''s poorly made is that it doesn''t work. The worst case is that it injures people. My work is for helping people, not the other way around."


    Primrose nodded. "We wouldn''t want items associated with our group to have any possibility of injuring friends or families of the members. I suppose there''s nothing that can be done about it."


    "Prim, we could raise the prices." Unlike the two Northerners Kalle and Shurra, Lyka did not sit straight in her seat but angled herself to the side with one arm draped on the table and the other hand in reaching distance of her spear. Molam could appreciate that Primrose''s guard had a habit of being hypervigilant and always ready to defend her, though Lyka''s way of going about it meant everyone else suffered her scrutiny. "If supply can''t meet demand, we need to lower demand."


    "And what of the people?" Molam asked quietly.


    Lyka leveraged her amber eyes to look at him, "The newcomer should listen and not speak. You''ve been here no more than two days, if you think that you can ¨C"


    "No, he''s right, Lyka." Primrose seemed deep in thought. "We''re not the mursashu. While it''s a strong source of funds for our activities, the main reason we''re selling Kalle''s warming stones is to garner sympathy with the people and provide them a way to survive Winter''s Sorrow. Which¡­" Primrose turned to Shurra with a raised brow, "Did your people have any success in looting the storage or should we risk the Forest?"


    "There''s too many guards. There''s more guards for the wood than for the food, if you can believe it." Shurra spoke with a quiet but firm voice. "I was wrong in thinking that I could contribute there, given how much I stand out."


    "That''s not an issue, Shurra." Primrose smiled at the Northerner, "So long as we didn''t lose any more people. I understand; we''ve been doing so many covert activities and you feel as though you have nothing to do and want to participate."


    "Leave the wood alone for a moment. Are we increasing the price of Kalle''s stones or not?" Lyka pressed. "If we increase the prices, we can hire another alchemist to do Kalle''s rune carving, then we''ll easily increase our output, no?"


    "From where?" Kalle frowned. "Techoria is only mildly inconvenienced by an army marching on their gates, or did you forget? Agytha''s new changes or not, JiangXi is still a city of the Empire and alchemists aren''t exactly welcome."


    Lyka stretched back in her seat. "We can hire from Zaem."


    Kalle snorted. "I''m not sharing what I know with those theory-chasing buffoons."


    Molam almost felt nostalgic ¡ª it had been some time since he had worked together with a group of people, but they had been contract-bound to help him and he had no need to fear for his life then. The argument went on, back and forth, while Molam digested what he heard. The people of JiangXi desperately needed wood and food to not freeze in the impending months of Winter''s Sorrow, and the city itself was keeping a storage of both without distributing it to the citizens. It felt unsustainable as a strategy no matter how he looked at it, and seemed like a last resort. What was Agytha preparing for, and why did she need all these resources? And how did she not understand that her actions were causing her own residents to resent her?


    More curiously, Shurra''s role made no sense to him. Why hadn''t Primrose assigned Shurra as her bodyguard if Shurra could fight and was currently looking for other ways to contribute? Surely Lyka could have attempted pilfering the city''s storage, if that was the goal. While there also weren''t many dark-skinned residents in the city, Shurra stood out just for being a good head taller than most people.


    There may be a jade talisman in the room.


    The others gave him a look as his hand jerked in response to the spirit''s sudden announcement, and Molam played it off as though he had abruptly decided it was cold. He rubbed his hands across his forearms as he clasped his wrist with his other hand, shifting it slightly in the hopes that the spirit would tell him more. Jade was infamously expensive and only carved talismans could mute the effects of aura around the wearer. Where was it? More importantly ¡ª who had it?


    If you are hoping for more information, I have none. This feather is hardly capable of my full abilities. It is the tiniest absence of auric movement in the room. I suppose the best way to describe to you is if you realized you weren''t smelling smoke from a candle.


    Molam resisted the urge to squeeze the feather, trying to focus his thoughts as the group''s conversation had moved on from the warming stones to their current number. It would make little sense for the Empire to be unaware about a group such as this one, especially if the city''s leadership wasn''t so incompetent as to not understand the blowback from their actions. Counting the members jailed by the city guard, they had several hundred in total; it was not such a small movement that the City Lord could not possibly be unaware, especially if they had been gathering under the Tempest''s Domain. But if the City Lord hadn''t taken the extra step to root out the movement, it meant Agytha was keeping track of them through someone else. And that someone would need to be unaffected by Primrose''s Charm.


    Memories of his childhood threatened to bubble to the surface. He felt like a child again, overlooking the villagers'' sense of unease around him. If a jade talisman was possibly in the vicinity, he should first proceed as though there was one until he could verify otherwise.


    But why? Molam scanned the members around him. Not only was jade particularly expensive, its main use often affected the user themselves. Primrose could not possibly wear jade or it would affect her Charm ¡ª additionally, Primrose was possibly the only person he could trust so far since the Oracle had sent him to her specifically.


    The rest of the gathering, he could not say. There was no evidence, but if the spirit thought there was a jade talisman in the vicinity, it was enough. He settled down to listen to the reports as his mind contemplated an adaptable plan that assumed the worst.


    "Including the ones caught earlier this week, the city guard has about two hundred of ours tossed in their iron cells. Almost half our members. Jailed for the duration of Winter''s Sorrow, on account of disrupting the public order, sowing chaos, and illegal sales and distribution of alchemy goods without a permit from the City Lord," Shurra reported.


    "Our strategist here has the beginnings of a plan for saving them." Primrose gave Molam a look, signaling for him to speak. "But I assume you have questions."


    Molam inhaled, putting away his inner thoughts as he realized all eyes were on him. "I think of it as just one part of a larger plan, but I think we should take advantage of the Tempest being gone."


    Shurra and Kalle stared in silence and Primrose frowned.


    "We don''t know when she will return," Lyka pointed out.


    "No, but we know she is out to fight the UnSeen and GloomSire in the Slumbering Forest." Molam held up two fingers. "First, she must find them. The Forest is large and the UnSeen have evaded capture for quite some time, so they must know how to avoid detection. Second of all, even though the Tempest must have more skill, a fight between two Titled Ones is sure to result in her being preoccupied."


    Shurra frowned. "So you want to stage a jailbreak while the Tempest is gone."


    "Yes. If she''s still dealing with the UnSeen by the time IceMourne brings Winter''s Sorrow, the snow will close the roads and she might not return until we see Spring''s Blessings." Molam leaned forward. "JiangXi would be cut off from the rest of the Empire and all we need to do is secure it."


    The others shifted and leaned closer to the table as well. "This might come as a welcome surprise to some of you," Primrose gave Shurra a nod as poured tea for each of them, pushing their cups to each member as she talked, "but I have mentioned that we were waiting for one last member for us to begin what we gathered for. Molam is that person. He has been given the Oracle''s color of approval in this matter, and so long as we succeed in freeing the city, I plan on transferring leadership to him so I can resume my original role."If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    To Molam''s own surprise, the other three merely nodded. He remembered that Primrose had been waiting for the Oracle to send someone, and imagined that she had at the very least told these members her plans. He was grateful for Primrose''s foresight ¡ª it would be difficult for any other group to just accept his entry and purpose without the Oracle''s backing. With a sense of wistfulness, he wondered if any of them were also disappointed he was not a Titled One.


    "But," Primrose held up a finger and shifted her gaze sideways towards Molam, "That depends on his performance."


    "If we dare do anything rash and the Tempest returns, we can hardly explain away the situation. At that point¡­" Lyka turned a sly look towards Molam, "We would need a Titled One such as the Whale of ZhiXia."


    Molam kept his face passive at Lyka''s provocation.


    "Lyka, there''s no point worrying about what we can''t control," Kalle tapped a finger against his teacup, brows furrowed as he looked between the two of them. "We focus only on what we can control. Right now, JiangXi has no Titled One, placing the Empire on similar footing with us. Worse, in fact, given Primrose''s reading of the public sentiment. Agytha has done herself no favors with the people."


    "That amounts to hardly anything, unless you invented a trinket that can control the weather." Lyka directed her ire at Kalle. "Am I the only one here that thinks this is foolish?" She held out her hands with an expression of incredulity. "If the Tempest returns before we''ve secured the city, everything we''ve built up for the past few years may disappear like water in the sands. In fact, even after we''ve secured the city, how are we going to hold it if she does return? Even if Winter''s Sorrow comes about and she can''t return, it''s only a few months until Spring''s Blessings. The Tempest will just return with a full division of the Red Army; Gods help us if we have to defend JiangXi against two Titled Ones without a single one on our side. All you''ve done is join and immediately doom us to a repeat of Kamisukawa."


    "Lyka." Molam saw Kalle and Shurra''s faces blanch at Primrose''s warning tone and wondered if he had flinched as well; for him it felt as though RainBringer herself had just reprimanded him. "Enough."


    Lyka''s dark complexion flushed. "I don''t mean to question your judgment, Prim. It''s just¡­ if we do not tread lightly all we''ll find is quicksand."


    "And I understand your worries. Make no mistake; all of us here share that worry. We''d truly be fools not to, and there''s a reason why we''ve confined our activities to ones that wouldn''t give the Tempest any reason to root us out." Primrose laid a gentle hand on Lyka''s arm, her tone softening. "We can''t stop the Tempest from returning but if we don''t do anything, our members in jail are most likely going to freeze. The City Lord isn''t going to be burning any wood to keep the jails warm this Winter''s Sorrow ¡ª do you understand? We cannot afford to wait any longer. Molam is right: the Tempest is away and now is the time for us to seize the city. We might lose many to the city guards, but ¨C"


    "My apologies, Primrose." Molam cut in. "But we only need to capture Agytha."


    Primrose took an audible breath at being cut off, then turned to Molam. "Explain."


    "The city isn''t the walls or architecture. It''s the people." Molam interlaced his fingers as he tried to decide how much to say in the vicinity of one who held a potential jade talisman. "All we need to do is turn the people. You''ll often find that people in groups prioritize themselves more than the person they''re supposed to serve. If I understand the situation correctly, if we can just capture Agytha the rest of the city will be... very grateful." He shrugged. "And we can probably release the food and wood she''s stored to the people. The promise of something better is a stronger motivation than some lofty ideal of overthrowing the Empire. These people just want to be fed and survive Winter''s Sorrow."


    The room went silent as two pairs of blue eyes, a pair of amber eyes, and a pair of purple eyes stared at him. It reminded Molam of the stunned silence from a Mursa when he had explained that he wanted to steal into Crimson City''s Palace.


    He filled the silence with more details on how the jailbreak would enable them to capture Agytha, and their plan for holding the city afterwards.


    "It''s possible." Primrose crossed her arms, her lips pressed into a thin line as she contemplated his proposal. "That would require a lot of planning, with little room for mistakes."


    Molam nodded. "We will need to accomplish much before Winter''s Sorrow. Has the Fallen Star Pavilion sent word to JiangXi as to when IceMourne arrives?"


    Kalle answered. "IceMourne is predicted to arrive in JiangXi in three days, from the southeast."


    "We move then and free the prisoners." Molam stood up, "I believe I''ll need some time to look over the city''s layout and understand what we have to work with." He gave Shurra a pointed look. Shurra''s eyes flickered from him to Primrose, who drank her tea but nodded. "Now is the time. The Tempest is away and the Red Army is besieging Techoria. What better opportunity can we wait for?"


    "And after?" Lyka demanded. "I like how you haven''t addressed what comes after Spring''s Blessings."


    "The other Free Cities will be more inclined to help."


    "Perhaps you can explain what makes you think that the Free Cities are willing to come together after all this time?" Primrose poured herself a new cup of tea but her eyes were focused on Molam.


    "Kalle," Molam gestured at the alchemist, "Why do you think the Empire is attacking Techoria?"


    The alchemist scratched at his scruffy beard in thought. Molam briefly wondered if Kalle had chosen to grow it out for Winter''s Sorrow. "Assuming his goal of preparing for another challenge against Sanctuary''s Submerged Leviathan is unchanged¡­ I''d say the Bloody Prince wants to obtain the SunFlower."


    "Which gives us a few realistic results after Winter''s Sorrow." Molam held up a hand and counted off on his fingers. "One ¡ª the Empire succeeds, destroys Techoria, and obtains the SunFlower. If that''s the case, the Free Cities will be forced to fight the Empire that has the greatest weapon alchemy has created when Flangel the Wise was the Prodigy. They''ll be forced to unite."


    He held up a second finger. "Two ¡ª the Empire fails, Techoria survives, and the Empire is forced to retreat with nothing to show for it. That will mean Techoria not only fought off the Empire, but that the Red Army must be battered and licking their wounds. In this situation, the Free Cities should unite and attack the Empire while they are weak. In either result, the best time to strike is immediately after. Even if we cannot fight the Bloody Prince directly, the Empire will be at its most vulnerable. And I doubt any of the Free Cities would want to see the result of the Empire strengthened with the SunFlower, correct?"


    Molam allowed his gaze to linger on Shurra and Lyka. Primrose watched him closely but he ignored her inscrutable gaze. Kalle aside, Shurra and Lyka having distinctive traits of the Northern Tribes and the Oasis was not a mere coincidence. The Free Cities were already tangentially involved.


    "So to answer your question, Primrose," Molam picked up the teapot and refilled Primrose''s empty teacup. "The Free Cities have everything to gain by acting and everything to lose if they don''t. All we need¡­" He pushed Primrose''s cup to her and looked at the rest of the table''s empty cups, "...is a little push. JiangXi could be the first new Free City since the Empire''s Fracturing. The first new success story, one that could wash away the pain of Kamisukawa."


    "And what would the Empire''s people say about that?" Shurra''s gaze flickered from Molam''s eyes to the teapot in his hand.


    "I believe most of the able-bodied people have been drafted away by the Red Army," Molam poured and refilled Shurra''s cup. "All that''s left are city guards; and they are drastically outnumbered by the citizens themselves. City guards that the citizens dislike for enforcing all these rules. The city itself clearly does not have any particular love for the Empire, given the way Agytha has been enforcing things. We can use that to our advantage."


    Kalle''s thumb rubbed worryingly against his growing beard as he pushed his cup forwards so Molam could avoid leaning over the lengthy table. "I understand. But as Lyka mentioned, you are putting a lot on hoping that the Tempest cannot return before Winter''s Sorrow begins."


    "I understand the worry. That is why we need to move swiftly, faster than could be expected ¡ª and plan around the onset of Winter''s Sorrow." Molam filled Kalle''s cup for him as he answered. "She''s off to look for the UnSeen and GloomSire right before Winter''s Sorrow, in the Slumbering Forest. If she values her own life, she will tread lightly within the Forest, which will reduce the speed at which she can find the UnSeen. And a fight between two Titled Ones in the Forest¡­ well," Molam pushed Kalle''s refilled cup back to him, "We would be foolish to not capitalize on a situation where she is gone."


    "Even if this idea works as you say, I don''t believe you fully understand what you are talking about with distributing food and wood to the people after." Lyka''s cup was placed too far away for Molam to even lean over to fill. "I don''t know if you noticed, strategist, but food is expensive after the drought. That damn Mursa Shang bought it all, right before RainBringer''s Flood less than two weeks ago. Who knows how much is still left in the city''s storage? If we take the city and find that we cannot provide for the citizens, we are damning ourselves to a city that will riot by people looking for any excuse to stay warm."


    Molam smiled at her defiant look, then stood up and walked around the room to Lyka''s side, pouring her tea for her. "The City Lord doesn''t want to offend the mursashu, but that doesn''t mean we couldn''t just buy food from them once we control JiangXi''s coffers. And as for warmth, we have Kalle''s warming stones to distribute alongside the confiscated wood."


    The last drop of tea rippled against the rim of Lyka''s cup.


    "We release our friends. Capture the City Lord Agytha and free JiangXi, then win over the citizens by providing food and heat." Molam walked back towards his seat and sat down after setting the teapot down. "We succeed and the Free Cities will take notice."


    "It''s¡­" Lyka avoided his gaze as she hesitated, "...possible."


    Molam leaned forward. "Excellent. We are all aligned. Now, there''s three days before IceMourne''s arrival." No need to give Lyka any reason to second-guess herself. "During these three days, we''ll observe the city guards and plan for releasing the ones in jail with the ultimate goal of taking over the city itself. Of course, if something unexpected such as the Tempest''s premature return comes up, we can always change or abandon the plans."


    "That is flexible enough," Shurra drank the tea Molam had poured for her. "We won''t make a final decision on committing ourselves until Winter''s Sorrow sets in."


    "It''s an ideal situation," Kalle stroked at his beard, "Once Winter''s Sorrow sets in and IceMourne''s arrival closes off the roads, travel between the cities is impossible. It''s the very same tactic the Red Army is using at Techoria to prevent anyone leaving or unexpected reinforcements. Not that any Free City is close enough to send reinforcements without worrying about the Red Army taking a detour."


    "Gain control of JiangXi at the start of Winter''s Sorrow and we''ll have the city to ourselves until Spring''s Blessings." Primrose set her cup down before continuing, "Which would give us time to charm the city with new management."


    Molam, not willing to get ahead of himself, conceded to Primrose''s position as leader and settled back in his seat as she began assigning tasks to Shurra, Kalle, and Lyka. From the tasks, it became clear that Lyka was responsible for information gathering, Shurra was in charge of those that could fight, and Kalle was responsible for tools as well as his alchemist duties.


    "One final thing." Molam spoke up just as the rest stood up to leave. "Our timeline, while set in stone, is for only those of us here to know. Go about your duties, but don''t reveal why. Understood?"


    Each of them nodded. Then they left for the door. Lyka gave Molam a strict stare as she left, prompting a smile back from Molam.


    Shurra glanced at Molam, but otherwise paid him little heed. He could only nod in acceptance, knowing that winning the Northern Warrior''s respect would take time.


    Kalle was last to leave, giving Molam an encouraging nod, to which Molam returned a knowing head tilt. The man stopped at the door, opening it back and forth twice slowly, staring at the hinges.


    "Stay a moment, Kalle." Molam stopped him. "As a matter of fact, there''s something specific I would like to request from you."


    ***


    "To confirm, you don''t want it to kill anyone." Kalle rubbed at his scar, an eye looking at Molam.


    "Yes. Please ensure it''s nonlethal."


    "Alright, good. Because if you asked for that, I would have refused you outright." Kalle stood up and left the room, stopping one more time to swing the door on its hinges again.


    "Kalle," Primrose''s voice carried a hint of reproach. "Duties."


    "Yes, yes." He gave the door another look, "Another time, then." And the door closed behind him.


    Now that Molam was left in the room with just Primrose, the memory of the spirit''s warning resurfaced in his mind and he couldn''t help but imagine the dagger she may or may not be holding right now.


    "It is rare for a person to willingly give up the lead, much less a man to a woman." Primrose was refilling the teapot with hot water before she refilled both of their cups. Molam hadn''t paid much attention to it prior, but he noticed that she could pour tea with precise movements while looking at him.


    "I am still new and need to earn trust." Molam pulled his cup closer, but did not yet drink. "Regardless, the only thing that matters here is ensuring that the plan is carried out."


    "Perhaps I may ask what happens if things do not go according to your plan?"


    Molam shifted his eyes from the cup to Primrose, who had sat down. "I am grateful you are supporting my transition to leadership by not questioning it brazenly in front of the others."


    "A wise woman once told me that men could all benefit from being more attuned to a woman''s doubts." Primrose sipped at her cup before continuing, "Especially considering three were in the room. After all, I cannot be the only one who thinks that it may be too convenient to rely on things proceeding as planned. While I don''t doubt freeing all those jailed can be accomplished and that these numbers would allow us to take advantage of the current situation to capture the City Lord''s mansion, Lyka is right for bringing up the same tired point: None of it matters if the Tempest returns."


    The momentary pause dragged on as he sipped at his tea, conscious of Primrose''s gaze on him. Molam wanted to ignore the flames that licked at his back, hoping that the burning sensation of heat throughout his body was merely the spirit''s Domain of warmth. But the flames never lied. All of them were human. If it made sense to them, even if it was just to save on food, his life wasn''t of value to them.


    But that meant the same for the Tempest, did it not?


    "I''ll deal with the Tempest if she shows up." A declaration with no backing, but the current flames of doubt must be doused to buy time. "Ideally, we capture Agytha alive."


    "You presume much if you suggest a hostage will work against the Tempest." Primrose''s eyes glowered at Molam from behind the rims of her cup. "And you are suggesting you can fend off a Titled One?"


    "To do so, I will need to know more about their abilities." The spirit''s silence meant that he was not in danger yet, but the warning echoed in his mind. This woman was capable of killing him at a moment''s notice. "Ideally, we avoid a fight with a Titled One. Instead of worrying about all these things out of our control, perhaps you could help me quickly understand the current state of this movement''s forces? Information, resources, and any footholds you''ve gained or established over the past few years." Molam drained his tea, setting the cup down with an audible clink. "At least, I hope the years you spent here bore some fruit. You aren''t the type to not have collected resources for the future, yes?"


    Primrose leaned over and refilled his cup. "Very well. I can understand the need for information. Perhaps you can suggest where I should start?"


    Molam waited until she pulled back before he responded. "Let''s start with all the ways this can go wrong. The Tempest''s known abilities. City Lord Agytha''s strengths. And of course..." Hesitation gripped him. If Primrose was not who she claimed to be, he was dead. But so far, he had not seen anything else that would fit the Oracle''s description of the flowers that bloomed in the flames, and if he could not trust the Oracle''s guidance then what did he have?


    If there was a jade talisman, its effect is no longer here.


    Emboldened by that knowledge, Molam finished his thought. "What happens if the City Lord knows of this group and has planted a spy?"


    "Quite the series of questions." Primrose''s eyes widened almost imperceptibly. "Although I suspect the last one is the most important of them all. Whom do you suspect? I have met and questioned everyone in our movement."


    "What if there was a jade talisman?"


    Primrose''s movements faltered. "You are certain?"


    "It was in this room. One of the three had it."


    "In that case, we do have a problem." Primrose''s tone changed and she avoided his gaze briefly, her eyes flickering downwards before fixating upon him with her eyes. "Do you suspect me?"


    "No." Molam leaned forward. "Nor am I blaming you. This isn''t like the stories of the Companions, or the Red Emperor, where the demons and DuskWing seemed to do nothing but wait to be destroyed. This is real life, and everyone is a participant ¡ª willing, or unwilling."


    Primrose''s eyebrows did not relax, and Molam wondered if there was more to what she worried about. "What can be done?" she asked.


    "I know Kalle from before, but I''d like to know what you know about him. Of course, our master-at-arms Shurra and your bodyguard Lyka as well." Molam kept his eyes on her as he rattled their names off. "Perhaps you can get me some time to talk to each of them?"


    Primrose blew at her tea, gazing at him but not seeing him, lost in thought. "That can be arranged. Do you want me there?"


    Molam shook his head. "There is something I must confirm alone."

 Ch 13: The Rule of Law

    One Sun to light the world each day


    One Sun to shine on as we play


    One Sun to keep the dark at bay


    One Sun to watch us as we pray


    ¡ª Empire of the Sun, Children''s Rhyme


    <hr>


    "Do you trust that man?" Lyka''s tone was flat after they walked out of the room together.


    "Primrose made a decision." Shurra kept her eyes firmly ahead of her.


    "If Prim and this Molam are wrong," Lyka looked about to confirm if there were any others nearby, then lowered her voice, "We won''t have much recourse, will we?"


    Shurra rounded on Lyka, stopping the both of them in their tracks. The Northerner''s voice lowered. "Speak your mind, Lyka."


    Lyka raised her chin to look up at the tall Northerner. "We''re trusting our lives to an untested man. Aren''t you Northerners supposed to only trust those that have feats and merits?"


    "Being acknowledged by Primrose is a feat. More so if he is truly selected by the Oracle." Shurra''s expression stayed neutral. "Unlike the Sand Dwellers of Oasis, my people prefer to be on the initiative. Sticking your head into the sand does nothing about the Bloody Prince."


    Lyka bit the inside of her cheek, but found a heavy hand on her shoulder. Spinning around, she was greeted by Kalle''s bearded face.


    "That''s quite the murderous look you have there, Lyka." The alchemist greeted her with a cheery smile. "We''re one group here, yes? Remember that Primrose told us before we joined: our backgrounds don''t matter here. We work together to achieve greater things."


    "You were born a Northerner. Stop acting like you aren''t one of them."


    Kalle''s face darkened and his eyes darted to Shurra before he responded. "I''m an alchemist now."


    "Primrose is the only one of us that can See, too, so how do we know if he''s truly sent by the Oracle or not?" Lyka glowered at Kalle, leaning against the wooden wall with her spear tucked into the crook of her arm. "He doesn''t look like a fighter either. How convenient and absolutely useless for when we enact his ''plan.'' And if he''s wrong, we all die?"


    "We can''t always agree with Primrose''s decisions, but we are better off committing to them. That''s the whole point of being one group. I''d have thought you understood that, Lyka." Kalle frowned. "You''ve followed and protected Primrose longer than I have. Did you suddenly realize that this is dangerous?"


    "Prim has shown she is qualified. Molam is unknown!" Lyka stamped her spear into the floor to emphasize her point. A side door opened and a curious head poked into their hallway. Kalle waved at the man cheerfully, then gestured to the three of them hosting a discussion before the head nodded and closed the door again.


    "Lyka, outbursts are for the meeting room." Kalle said mildly. "Primrose would frown at this poor behavior in front of the others."


    "Poor behavior," Lyka snorted. "Wait until the group hears that someone untested will soon make life and death decisions for us?"


    Shurra crossed her arms and turned to Kalle as well. "We were discussing Molam''s lack of meaningful merit."


    Kalle''s cheerful face turned to one of somber seriousness. "Lyka is not from the Northern Plains, so she wouldn''t know, but Shurra, you know what the mark of the Oracle means, surely?"


    "He''s met the Oracle. So?" Lyka crossed her arms as well. "Millions visit Sanctuary every year."


    "And how many actually meet the Oracle? She''s not someone you meet based on connections, wealth, or power." Kalle looked at Lyka, "The Lord of Sands has never been granted an audience with the Oracle. None of the mursashu have ever been allowed to meet the Oracle either, and that is their hereditary wish. Isn''t it one of the most famous sayings? ''Only the rich are qualified to tell you what money cannot buy?'' The Lord of Sands and none of the three Mursa have qualified for a meeting with the Oracle, yet Molam has been granted the Oracle''s mark."


    "Unless that means he''s a full Titled One and can keep us alive from the Tempest, this means little to me or anyone else for that matter. We earned our position being auramasters." Lyka threw Kalle a look. "Or in your case, an accomplished alchemist," she amended.


    Kalle''s gaze fell on Shurra even as he spoke to Lyka, "The Frozen Saint was the last known person to carry the Oracle''s mark. For it to appear again means that the Oracle herself is acting, even if only through a proxy."


    "Yes, a tremendous accomplishment considering the Frozen Saint''s well-known current predicament." Lyka exhaled a laugh, "The Oracle sits in her mountain and makes us do her bidding, only for even Titled Ones to fail all the same."


    "You speak as someone that has clearly not seen the depths of the Glacial Chasm or the aftermath of their battle," Shurra leaned against the wall and crossed her arms. "But at least the Frozen Saint was worthy enough to have met the Oracle. Frozen or not, she is still alive after fighting the Bloody Prince and only so many can claim that as an achievement. And what has your precious Lord of Sands accomplished?"


    Lyka growled. "You Northern savages are all the same, always thinking that fighting is the only ¡ª"


    Kalle stepped in between them, a firm hand reaching out to ensure that Lyka''s spear stayed where it was. "To reiterate my point, the Oracle''s mark is an accomplishment by itself. Shurra, you should know of the legend where the Frozen Saint united the Northern Tribes. That was the trial required for the Frozen Saint to receive the Oracle''s mark. I imagine Molam did not receive the Oracle''s mark without overcoming a trial."


    Shurra''s eyebrows came close together and even Lyka exhaled with momentary surprise. Though the tales of the Frozen Saint were not often told in the Endless Sands, her accomplishment as the Frost Saint uniting the scattered Northern Tribes under one banner to meet the Empire''s Northern Conquest was still well known. That the Northern Tribes could even be united was something the Red Emperor was said to have failed to do.


    "This is true?" Shurra asked in a low voice.


    "It''s recorded in many Libraries, including the archives of the Fallen Star Pavilion," Kalle stepped backwards from Lyka, but his eyes were still focused on Shurra. "The tribes value individual merits, but the mark that Molam carries is as good as any tattoo. If it helps," Kalle clasped a forearm with a hand, "Think of it as a tattoo only very few can See. And I know neither of you care for Flangel the Wise, but Molam has Master Flangel''s approval as well. That is enough for me."


    Lyka''s eyes shifted to Shurra, who wasn''t looking at her. Shurra''s lips were a thin line as her blue eyes contemplated Kalle''s disarming smile.


    "Now," Kalle continued, "Whether the two of you have fully accepted Molam as part of the leadership or not isn''t important right now. The important thing is that Primrose has made a decision, and it''s up to us to go about with our tasks. Where we come from isn''t important. It''s what we are here to do that matters. I believe both of you were given the task to gather information on different sides of the city, correct?"


    "I will follow Primrose''s lead and see how Molam does, so long as he does not get in my way." Shurra pushed her way past the two of them, leaving first and ducking through the frame. The door closed behind her retreating shadow.


    "And what about you, Kalle?" Lyka chose to wait, not wanting to walk out just yet and have Shurra leer at her vulnerability to the cold. She hoped that one day Shurra would be forced into an extended stay in the Endless Sands and she would be there to see how Northerners fared in the heat. "Still making warming stones or refining your fire powder?"


    "Flame powder," Kalle corrected her, "If you''re this interested, I could show you. In fact, Molam asked me to do something very interesting just now, and if you would just come to my lab and ¡ª"


    "No, I wouldn''t dare intrude upon your work," Lyka shuffled towards the door with haste, extricating herself from the alchemist''s passion for his craft, "As long as we''re all being useful. I have a duty to perform now, so go have fun with your glass toys."


    Without waiting for a response, she pushed her way out of the door and into the cold.


    ***


    As a result of its unique topography and being built right next to the River Jiang, JiangXi had a floodline. Buildings were discouraged from building below the floodline due to near yearly floods from RainBringer, and this forced the people of JiangXi to make full use of the limited space atop the Jadeite Cliffs. This in turn meant that the city lacked an area for the usual slums associated with a city of its size.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    But even the Empire''s various initiatives to take care of the needy did not mean that all resources were used efficiently. The City Lord''s Mansion sat at the highest point on the Jadeite Cliffs and even the casual observer could see how the buildings became less extravagant as one traveled down the cliffs and approached the water''s edge. The docks stood in various states of disrepair despite the importance of JiangXi''s river trade. The newest City Lord cited the unpredictable nature of the floods as a reason for the city to not invest in what could easily be destroyed, bidding the trade merchants themselves to invest in the docks if they wished.


    A row of cabins lined the edge of the docks and above the water line. Here lived those who could not afford to live higher up on the cliffs, for they could scrounge for work and purpose when the tradeships came in. The cabins were built out of flimsy materials that provided scant shelter; Lyka suspected the residents here did this because it was easier to build newer ones than risk losing it all from a flood that traipsed above the water line.


    She passed into the area without a lantern, navigating in the shadows and approaching one of the cabins with boarded windows. With a furtive glance to see that no one followed her, she opened the cabin door and slipped in, not taking off her hood as she soaked in the inner heat of the cabin. Another solitary figure sat hunched over a chair in the room, stoking a flame in the room with metal tongs and did not look up at her entrance.


    Lyka kept the door open with one hand, then spoke in a clear voice. "May you prosper under the Sun."


    "And may water collect where you rest." The one stoking the fire replied, not turning around. "Close the damn door, it''s cold."


    Lyka obliged. "A fire at this time? How extravagantly privileged, Agytha."


    City Lord Agytha turned around, revealing her striking, dark-skinned face framed by dark brown hair that fell to her neck. Her eyes were golden, heavy-lidded, and almond-shaped above a pointed nose. "And what point is there in being a ''privileged'' City Lord if I came here to freeze each Winter''s Sorrow? But enough, I cannot be here long; that damned Mursa wants another meeting. Why did you schedule this so abruptly? This better be important."


    "Quite a few things, really." Lyka sat down in the other empty chair and pulled back her hood. "Primrose has accepted a man named Molam into the group, supposedly sent by the Oracle herself. And also, the group is staging a jailbreak in three days, looking to capture you then distribute the goods to the city." She leaned forward, basking her hands in the warmth from the crackling fire. "Important enough for you?"


    The City Lord didn''t respond for a lengthy moment. "And I''m hearing about this now ¡­ why?"


    "Because the man joined barely two days ago and we were just made aware of the plan this afternoon." A brief pause. "To be specific, this Molam only told us of this this afternoon. Primrose didn''t know either."


    "Primrose didn''t strike me as the type to trust someone that easily."


    "She doesn''t. But as I said, apparently he carries the Oracle''s mark and she has been waiting for him for some time now, so he could join as the strategist. She told me the Oracle would send someone, but it''s been so long that..." Lyka rubbed her hands together and shifted her chair closer to the flames, "Well, I guess I had thought it wasn''t happening."


    Agytha put down the tongs and turned her full attention to the other woman. "Gods be damned, why now? Three years I''ve been here and now we finally have everything finalized with that cheeky Mursa to get the goods to the Endless Sands." The City Lord''s voice turned deadly calm. "There''s no guarantee that if we turn the full force of the city guards on the movement, the Oracle would send the Whale of ZhiXia here. Or to Oasis."


    Lyka shook her head. "Too risky, especially now that there''s two individuals that are here because of the Oracle. You need to bring back the Tempest. It''s the only way to put a stop to the plan without directly violating the Lord''s agreement with the Bloody Prince," Lyka urged.


    "You were supposed to keep Primrose''s group in line."


    "I can''t. Not anymore. ''Controlled opposition'' my ass, you were supposed to manage public sentiment much better than this." Lyka hissed at Agytha. "We needed to do this without bloodshed and now everything''s gone to shit. If we let too many of the Empire''s citizens suffer as a result, the Bloody Prince will turn his sight onto Oasis."


    "Is it my fault I couldn''t possibly predict that fire in the Slumbering Forest?" Agytha''s face was grim, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Would you rather I allow logging and risk the Forest waking up? The citizens will just take and take; they don''t know when to stop even if it means damning all of us."


    "I know that!" Lyka exhaled with a look of exasperation. "Give some wood back to the citizens. Do something. Give me something to work with here, before they get it into their heads to actually attack!"


    "I can''t. The contract with the Mursa is already in effect." Agytha rubbed her hands over the heat of the flames. "You know I can''t break it. Unless you''d like to kill me, which would end the contract."


    Lyka kicked a nearby chair, making a drawn-out noise of frustration. "Don''t you tempt me, I would if it didn''t mean that I would need to deal with your problems on top of my own," she glowered, then shook her head. "You need to call back the Tempest. We can still delay this without causing an issue, and if the Tempest just returns long enough to keep them in line then they won''t do anything before Winter''s Sorrow. I can''t talk them out of it without an actual threat."


    Shaking her head, the City Lord turned back to the fire. "The Tempest is out on the Empire''s orders."


    "I thought the Empire ordered her to aid you, per the agreement between the Lord and the Bloody Prince. Isn''t she supposed to help you maintain order?"


    "Just because one is granted rule over JiangXi does not grant one command over a Titled One." Agytha snorted with derision. "No, she was ordered to aid me and protect me in my capacity as City Lord but that''s besides the point. The Tempest left to hunt the UnSeen after receiving a missive from the Bloody Prince himself. They think this GloomSire stole from Crimson City''s Palace." She stared into the flames. "I don''t know what it is, but based on the urgency which she left, it''s something very important to the Bloody Prince. Only he has enough power to motivate her like that."


    Lyka seemed baffled, then whistled with admiration. "A new Titled One, and already stealing something from the Bloody Prince himself? This GloomSire must have too much sand in his ears."


    "Which brings us back to the main problem. I can try calling her back, but the Tempest might not respond. For her, the Prince''s orders take priority." Agytha turned a log. "And I don''t know how far she left in order to look for the UnSeen."


    "Is there no way to hasten the process of bringing what the Lord wants back to Oasis?" Lyka asked. "At this rate, we''ll risk everything we''ve worked towards the past few years."


    "No, the River Jiang froze far too early. The Mursa''s ships are locked in the ice until Spring''s Blessings, unless you have some method of thawing that ice from here to Heaven''s Wake. And I doubt money can convince Mursa Shang to move his mursashu during Winter''s Sorrow." Agytha seemed deep in thought. "Three days, is it? That''s when the Pavilion predicts IceMourne will arrive with Winter''s Sorrow."


    "The strategist said that once Winter''s Sorrow arrives and the Tempest isn''t here yet, she is unlikely to be able to return before Spring''s Blessings and the Empire cannot send reinforcements."


    "So he wants to keep us isolated from help." Agytha sighed. "And how will the jailbreak play into this?"


    "The members number well past five hundred with the inclusion of those in the jail. That''s more than the city guards. The idea is once you''re captured, the city guards have no reason to stop the group from distributing resources to their family members." Lyka pulled out a map of planned waves of movement throughout the city. "Here, here, and here. That''s where they''ll start to attract attention, and then a wave of members will stage the jailbreak when the city guards are all pulled away. Finally, they''ll want to capture you depending on where you are at the time."


    Agytha studied the map. "He wants to start at the bottom of the city?" she frowned. "I can understand it being a diversion as that''s the furthest from the Mansion and the barracks are on the upper side, but even if the city guards are forced to defend these storage houses it''s a terrible idea. The pathways are intentionally designed for the city guards to reach the docks without being hindered. Not to mention that these¡­ insurgents," she said the word with venom, "Would meet the city guards on their way up. Are you sure that''s it?"


    Lyka shrugged. "That''s exactly what I''ve said in the meetings and he assures me it''s not an issue. Perhaps he''s counting on the citizens to join and help?"


    "That''s possible, but I doubt enough of them will be willing to risk it to make a difference. They can''t possibly resent me that much or I wouldn''t still be here."


    "It''s your own fault that the citizens hate you." Lyka told her flatly.


    "They can hate me all they want." The City Lord shrugged, then lowered her tone. "Are you sharing their sentiment now, Lyka? Did you forget why we''re here; to get all of this for Oasis?"


    "Of course not." Lyka''s amber eyes reflecting the firelight. "The Lord is relying on us to keep things discreet."


    The flames crackled as Agytha stoked the fire again, the two women falling silent as they gathered their thoughts.


    "If we fail the Lord, it''s not just about our families anymore. The established systems and hierarchy of Oasis hinge upon this." Agytha murmured in a low voice. "I''m going to use what you''ve told me to ensure we don''t find ourselves struggling through quicksand." She gave Lyka a direct stare. "Delay as much as you can. Or we''ll have to do the worst." Agytha wrinkled her nose. "Remember what the Lord told us to do to the ones that have met the Oracle."


    Lyka hesitated. "If we just kill the strategist, there is a chance for dialogue. There''s no need to kill Primrose as well."


    Agytha shook her head. "You would lose your position, Lyka. You told me yourself that Primrose was waiting for the Oracle to send someone. Well, this strategist is that someone, and we have our orders from the Lord. It was time to say your goodbyes regardless. We''re just acting ahead of schedule."


    "We were to do this without bloodshed." Lyka reminded Agytha in a brusque tone. "The Lord promised that the Empire''s citizens wouldn''t¡ª"


    "They''re not citizens!" Agytha slammed a fist into the table, making Lyka flinch. "Primrose grew up in ZhiXia City, didn''t you confirm this yourself? She and this strategist are both sent by the Oracle! Even the other two, that alchemist and the Northern Warrior, they''re savages from the Northern Tribes! Cut off the head and the group won''t resist. The Empire wouldn''t mind if we killed them at all. Especially the ones the Oracle chose."


    After a moment, Lyka sighed. "If it happens."


    "But if it happens, I need to know you can do what you need to do, Lyka. Look at you! A few years in close proximity and you''re advocating for Primrose; are you out of your mind? Have you forgotten what the Lord said? Both of them ¡ª and believe me, I mean both ¡ª they must die for us to be able to face the Lord, face the people." The City Lord''s gaze did not stray from Lyka''s. "Will you do your duty?"


    Lyka blinked, then returned Agytha''s gaze and murmured, "Duty above all."


    Agytha allowed the silence to linger before she stood up from the fire and walked to the door. "Duty above all."


    Lyka stared into the flames as the City Lord left her alone in the cabin.

 Ch 14: Purpose

    I have come to understand a fundamental truth of the matter of sin.


    It is not a matter of acceptance and rejection, but acceptance and justification.


    Too many prefer to justify rather than accept.


    ¡ª Excerpt from Meditations, by the Red Emperor


    <hr>


    "Ah, Shurra. Thank you for taking the time to meet with me."


    Shurra ducked under the door frame as she stepped in and closed it behind her. Whereas the door itself had resisted Molam when he attempted to close it fully earlier, Shurra used one arm to shove it back into its frame without a hassle before she turned around to face him.


    Molam gestured at the seat across from the table. "Please, have a seat."


    Despite her size, Shurra''s movements were quiet and restrained as she walked over, only the dull thump of her boots and the creaking of the hardwood floor indicating that she moved at all. She pulled out the chair and settled herself into it as Molam cleared up the documents he was poring over. Whether it was Primrose''s sense of humor or a lack of good space, she had given him the same room that he had been brought into while blindfolded.


    Reaching below the desk, Shurra pulled out a chipped ceramic teapot warmer and revealed a teapot in her large hands, alongside two cups. "Primrose asked me to bring tea."


    "Of course she did," Molam looked at Shurra with a smile and then at the teapot. It was ceramic, and Molam guessed that it was porcelain. On the side was a decoration of satem flowers, artfully inscribed in blue and orange glazing.


    Shurra set down the warmer and the two cups next to it but did not set the pot down, looking at Molam expectantly.


    "Yes?"


    "She also said that we had no need for matches or warming stones."


    He decided that Primrose had a sense of humor, and that he personally found it quite disagreeable. Reaching forward with his left arm, he snapped a finger above the solitary wick within the warmer.


    To think you would treat me as mere flint.


    A red spark danced from his wrist to his outstretched index finger and leapt onto the wick, setting it alight immediately. The flame remained red for a moment longer before flickering and settling into the dull-orange glow the other candles in the room had.


    Shurra leaned forward and set the teapot onto the warmer, settling it in place before shifting back in her chair, the wooden fixture dragging slightly across the wooden floor but not creaking in response. With a low exhale, she crossed her arms and directed her gaze at him.


    Up close, Molam could see her features more sharply. The thin blue tattoo decorating the scar on her pale face was in the shape of a thunderbolt. It had been outlined with thin black ink but given a layer of white shadow, causing it to have the presence of a moving image on her face. Today, she was dressed in a layer of black leather trimmed at the edges and around the neck with white fur. For a brief moment the thought crossed Molam''s mind that it was not something Primrose would ever wear. But then again, Shurra clearly dressed for practical purposes.


    "That tattoo must be quite the achievement," Molam smiled at her. "A hunt or a duel?"


    She did not move as she responded. "A jade scorpion."


    Molam found himself shifting slightly backwards with a raised eyebrow. "Alone? A grown one?"


    "It was a broodmother protecting a clutch."


    Molam raised an eyebrow. The jade scorpion claimed a spot as one of three infamously dangerous hunts in the Northern Plains with a sting that paralyzed aura circulation, and the large broodmothers increased in their ferocity when protecting a clutch of eggs. As a matriarchal society, the Northern Tribes reserved their hardest hunts for their male warriors hoping to win tattoos. The men risked their lives to earn a story worthy of sharing at the Hearthomes in the hopes of being deemed worthy enough to contribute his bloodline to a Tribe. Molam wondered if Shurra''s Tribe deemed her dispensable enough to allow her to join such a hunt, then decided against asking it.


    "That must have been an incredible hunt," He contained the impressed tone in his voice. "Aren''t they normally best hunted as a group?"


    "I chose it for my rite of passage."


    A solo hunt? That is quite impressive. For a human.


    Molam shared the spirit''s sentiment. "Could you tell me the story behind the tattoo''s design?"


    Shurra lifted her right index finger without uncrossing her arms, pointing at the tattoo and the scar on her face. "I fought it for two days before RainBringer passed overhead. I slipped in the rain and the tail grazed my face. Before the second strike could kill me, it was struck by lightning."


    Molam''s lips twitched, wondering what RainBringer would think of this story. He then remembered that RainBringer would probably not care for whether her actions inconvenienced humans at all, being the dragon that chose when droughts or floods happened.


    "That''s quite amazing. To choose the jade scorpion as your rite of passage and attempt it alone, but also have the dragon RainBringer involved in your legend. I''m quite sure you tell this story at the Hearthome?"


    His smile faltered as her look shifted, her eyebrows pinching together as though she were contemplating something, and then ultimately returned to her frigid look of indifference.


    "There is nothing to be proud of." She tilted her chin upwards just a bit slightly. "I will never know if I could have killed it alone."


    Molam fell silent, slightly taken aback by Shurra''s denial. "So ¡­ what you want is a fight wholly your own. One you can be proud of." He leaned backwards, trying to remember the particularities of the Northern Tribes. "There''s not many challenges stronger than a jade scorpion, and that''s why you''re helping Primrose." The Northern Warriors had an unspoken rule that each challenge must be greater than the last, in a bid for more scars and an increasing difficulty. For Shurra, who had started with a jade scorpion, further hunts were not a realistic option. "You''re here for duels."


    Shurra nodded without ceremony. "And you? Do you have a story?"


    Molam raised his eyebrows at the unexpected question. The Northerner''s ice-blue eyes gave him a measuring stare as he contemplated what to tell her. Moments passed before he licked his lips and responded. "I once came back from the dead."


    Shurra snorted. "How about a real tale?"


    He raised his eyebrows. "I''ve met and spoken with four dragons in my life."


    Shurra''s eyes flashed and her lips curled before she asked in a low voice. "Are you mocking me?"


    Molam held up a hand feigning defeat. "I''ve spoken with the Oracle on three separate occasions."


    After a momentary pause, Shurra leaned backwards, her chair creaking against the shifting weight. "At least that is believable. I heard most people only meet the Oracle once, if they meet at all. And? What makes it a story worth telling?"


    "Well," Molam paused, unsure of what to tell her. "It''s not exactly a duel, but I bested her in dragon chess."


    There was a lengthy pause as Shurra stared at him unblinkingly, her crystal blue eyes a pair of glinting gems in the candlelight.


    "Perhaps it''s not an impressive enough story to tell during a Gathering." Molam shrugged with a sheepish smile.


    It took a moment for her to respond. "No one knows how strong the Oracle is at dragon chess, so no one knows how difficult it was."


    Molam''s smile widened at the Northerner''s polite response. "Do you know much about dragon chess?"


    Shurra shook her head. "Not many in my Tribe play it."


    "Hmm," Molam thought for a moment and then sighed. "I can only say, it was quite a hard game. But I can understand if it wouldn''t make a good story for a Gathering at any of the Hearthomes ¡ª not enough fast-paced action and probably unrelatable for your Warriors." He refilled their teacups again before sitting back down. "Though maybe the Blue Ravens would appreciate it."


    Shurra did not react to his naming of a Tribe. After a moment, she replied, "You seem to know quite a bit about Northerners."


    "I spent a year traveling through the Northern Plains. When I stopped by Hjornheim, I took a chance to learn some silversmithing from the Black Oxen and even saw the Twin Stars from afar." Molam eyed her as he poured the tea from the teapot for the two of them, then pushed a cup to Shurra. "There, thank you for coming to talk to me."


    She didn''t pick it up as she kept her eyes on him. "Primrose said there was something you wanted to know."


    Molam blew at his tea and then sipped at it, feeling the citrusy liquid rush past his tongue and permeate his sense of smell. He finished drinking the entire cup before he set it down to look at Shurra with a smile.


    "Yes, and I already got my answer."


    ***


    "Do come in, Lyka. Thank you for ¡ª"


    Lyka shoved the door closed behind her with a resounding thud, but it wouldn''t close entirely. She pounded on the edge twice with a closed fist, then shoved her shoulder into it so that it fully closed with a bang.


    "... taking the time to meet with me." Molam finished his sentence, then gestured with an attempt at an encouraging smile. "Please, have a seat."


    Lyka dragged out the chair in a manner that allowed it to squeak across the floorboards. Having seated herself across from him, she then scooted her chair in before she sniffed at the air, her eyes coming to rest at the two teacups between them.


    "Pomberry tea?"


    "I believe that is correct."


    "Don''t you have anything better?"


    "Well, it wouldn''t be a good example to the others if we are drinking quality tea, would it? Seeing as it is already brewed, it wouldn''t do well to waste tea."


    Are you going to tell her that this is the cup the Northern woman left untouched?


    Molam ignored the spirit''s words as he widened his smile at Lyka.


    The moment lingered briefly before Lyka picked up the cup and sipped at it, then held her arm to the side, emptying the cup onto the ground. Tea splattered everywhere, but her eyes stared straight at him. "You served me lukewarm tea."


    "That... is my fault," Molam acknowledged, picking up the teapot from the warmer and offering to pour her more. He berated himself for not thinking of that and wondered if Lyka was already insulted. "I apologize. I had poured it earlier but I hope you understand: we are approaching Winter''s Sorrow."Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    Lyka''s ebony skin glowed with a bronze sheen in the candlelight as her dark eyes narrowed at him, almost completely hiding the white of her eyes. Her black, wiry hair was a large contrast to Shurra''s earlier light blonde locks and individual strands gleamed orange when reflecting the light of the flames. Yet, her high cheekbones were made even more evident in the scant lighting, and her normally full lips were pressed into a thin line as she contemplated him and his outstretched arm holding the teapot.


    Finally, she held out her cup and Molam poured the tea for her before setting it back onto the warmer.


    "I understand we didn''t start off on amicable terms," Molam settled into his seat and gave her a smile. "But I am hoping that our future together is better than our shared past."


    She sipped the tea slowly. "If you mean the time when I was holding a knife to your throat, my duty is to protect Primrose and the rest of this group. I won''t apologize to you for doing my duty."


    The candlelight flickered and the shadows danced in the side of Molam''s vision. For a brief moment, his nose was full of the scent of charred flesh, and he closed his eyes to exhale slowly as though it would get rid of the smell.


    He opened his eyes again, meeting Lyka''s gaze. "Such a strong word, ''duty.'' To be able to absolve humans of consequences brought about as a result of responsibility."


    Lyka''s eyes narrowed. "When you''re a Sand Spear, the first thing they teach you is the weight of duty, and its importance. Duty is what gives people the motivation to do the things they cannot otherwise accomplish."


    "I''ve been meaning to ask you about that. Isn''t the Lord of Sands at risk with a Sand Spear being here?" Molam leaned back in his seat. "I thought the Bloody Prince made him promise to stay in the Endless Sands. Isn''t he shirking his duty by allowing you to be here?"


    "The Lord isn''t invading. I''m here because my duty is to safeguard our future."


    Molam considered Lyka''s words. They echoed in his mind, reminding him of words spoken a long time ago. "Does duty ever fail someone?"


    The question seemed to send Lyka deep in thought as she silently sipped at her tea, her eyes unfocused and staring off somewhere else in the room.


    Moments later, she returned her gaze to meet Molam''s and answered. "Only if one chose the wrong responsibilities."


    "And when does one find that out?"


    "Sometimes too late." She shrugged. "Sometimes never."


    "Quite the conundrum, isn''t it? When both ''too late'' and ''never'' lead to undesired results." Molam looked focused on Lyka''s face, ignoring the shadows at the edge of the room. "When you say your responsibility is ''to safeguard our future,'' how do you know your actions will get you the desired result?"


    Lyka set her empty cup down. "What do you mean?"


    Molam paused for a moment. "Let''s say a strong hunter was tasked with feeding a village, and every day he brought back a caribou or something similar. Several years go by, and suddenly a large pack of wolves attack the village, starved from not having enough prey to hunt because the hunter was effective at fulfilling his duty. The hunter was gone during the attack, so the wolves killed and ate many villagers before he returned. Next year, there weren''t enough men to plough the fields, and the animals the hunter could hunt were also too sparsely populated for him to repeat his earlier successes. As a result, the village faced starvation."


    He leaned forward and refilled Lyka''s cup again before asking her, "Did the hunter save the village or doom it while carrying out his duties and responsibilities?" He pushed the filled cup to Lyka.


    Lyka''s gaze flickered to the cup, then back to Molam, before she tapped a finger along the cup''s rim. "The hunter did his best. He carried out his duty and responsibilities well. It was the village''s fault for relying on the hunter and not planning any further than that."


    "I see you absolve the hunter of the results," Molam leaned his chin against a closed hand, "But you can see why duty and responsibility, even when achieved perfectly, may sometimes net you an undesired result."


    "Enough. We both know you called me here for a reason and it wasn''t to discuss these ¡­ could-have-beens." Lyka''s finger traced the rim of the teacup, but she had yet to pick it up. "What did you want to know that you could not have simply asked Prim?"


    Molam did not let himself frown at her decision to change the topic. "As our newly appointed strategist, it is my¡­duty and responsibility to understand our fighting strength."


    "If you want to know how well I fight," the woman leaned closer to the table, "Why don''t you fight me yourself?"


    "Considering your position as Primrose''s bodyguard, I''m quite certain I don''t need to verify how well you fight. I''m more concerned with why you fight." Molam filled his own teacup again, then held it up to her in a small toast. "Duty and responsibility, is it?"


    Lyka did not return the toast.


    ***


    "Ah, Kalle. I understand you are busy preparing the thing I asked for, so thank you for taking the time to meet with me."


    Kalle bent down to look at the door and the frame, inspecting it closely as he murmured to himself unintelligibly. Molam had found an extra cup and poured fresh tea for the two of them.


    "Just close the door, Kalle."


    "Yes, I''m trying to make that happen." The alchemist shifted to the other side and began peering at the door''s hinges. "Ah. Do you mind, Molam?" Kalle beckoned backwards at Molam without looking at him, still inspecting the door. "I''m afraid you''ll need to hold this up while I readjust the hinges. Come, come, allowing a bad circumstance to remain unadjusted only ever makes it worse."


    Molam scrunched up his face. "Is that something they teach you in Techoria?"


    Kalle turned his face away from the door and gave Molam a sideways glance, his beard reflecting an ochre color in the candlelight. The alchemist raised an eyebrow and Molam sighed, then stood up and walked over next to him.


    "I just need to hold it?"


    Kalle tilted his head to the side, seemed to think about it, and then looked at Molam again. "We''ll need to see. But I think the fix is simple." He pulled open the door by several degrees, then pointed to the handle and looked at Molam. "Just push it up a bit while I fix the hinge."


    Molam hefted the door up as instructed. "Do they teach all alchemists how to fix things?"


    "What do you think alchemy is?" Kalle had pulled out a small tool and was prying the pin out of the top hinge.


    Molam thought of the streets of Techoria, remembering various alchemists selling their wares. "I''d say, potions. Lots of potions. And all these esoteric trinkets and inventions."


    "Hardly. That''s merely a solution in action." Kalle had successfully pried out the pin, then used the side of his tool to bang against part of the hinge in an attempt to straighten it. "Alchemy," Kalle paused his banging and looked at the hinge, sizing it up, "is finding the answer to anything."


    Molam frowned. "Not selling things that don''t necessarily work?"


    Kalle snorted. "That''s Zaem. They merely use alchemy to make money."


    "You sold me a few things." Molam raised an eyebrow as Kalle motioned for him to release his grip on the door. The alchemist didn''t respond as he inspected the gap between the hinge and the door. "At quite the price, if I may remind you," Molam added.


    "You haggled!" Kalle glanced at Molam with a look of incredulity before motioning for Molam to hold up the door again. "And it''s not the fact that I sell things. Zaem practices alchemy for profit. Those of us that follow the true alchemic way sell things to fund our pursuit of alchemy. There''s a nuance to the difference in approach!"


    Molam frowned. "But isn''t the result the same? A study in how things function."


    "No, that''s simply part of the process of finding an answer. For example, the flameproof cloak I sold you. From ideation to execution, I needed to understand quite a few subjects to make the cloak a reality." Kalle pressed the pin in halfway, frowned, then pulled it out again and knocked at the hinge again.


    Molam was deep in thought as he watched Kalle work. "If the flameproof cloak was the answer, what was the question then?"


    Kalle paused mid-hammering. "Huh. I seem to have forgotten. Well, Master Flangel always said that the path to understanding is an adventure that takes you to wondrous places." His eyebrows scrunched together as his lips pressed together. "I suppose looking back logically, at some point along my studies I wanted to know if it could be done. At the very least, it wasn''t a pointless endeavor: flameproof cloth surely has many practical uses, I just haven''t determined what all the uses are yet."


    He pushed the pin in again, sliding it neatly into the hinge. "You can let go now."


    Molam loosened his grip on the door and shook his hands vigorously before rubbing the blood back into his arms, feeling a small twinge of complaint from his muscles. He walked back to his seat and sat down, watching as Kalle pushed the door back and forth, then closing the door fully into its frame without any resistance. Again, he pulled open the door fully, then gave it a gentle push and watched as it swung closed.


    "There, now no one else needs to deal with that problem." The alchemist murmured and nodded to himself, then turned around and sat down in the chair. Swiping the teacup off the table, Kalle drained it in one gulp and then set it down with sigh. "Now, I believe you have a question for me?"


    "I did," Molam began, looking down at his teacup, then changed his gaze to Kalle. In the distraction of the door-fixing, he had almost forgotten why they were here. "But I suppose I have a different question now." He leaned forward and refilled Kalle''s cup. "What are you trying to fix here?"


    Kalle pulled the cup closer to him but did not pick it up, his light blue eyes glinting at Molam. "What makes you ask that?"


    "You want this city to be free, but that''s your ''solution in action.'' That is the answer you''ve deduced." Molam returned the teapot to the warmer before settling back in his seat and locked gazes with Kalle''s blue eyes. "Allow me to pose my question another way: what was your question?"


    Kalle brought the cup to his nose and took in its aroma, his eyes still contemplating Molam. Eventually, he broke the pause with an exhale before finally sipping at the tea and putting down the cup.


    "Why do all societies seem to be broken, and how can we fix them?"


    Molam set his head against two fingers, rubbing at his temple without breaking eye contact. "Are you telling me or asking me?"


    Kalle shrugged. "Quite the question, isn''t it? I think we all struggle with it, just on different levels. Take you for instance," the alchemist shifted, laying an arm on the table as he leaned forward. "Anyone with a basic understanding of history knows what the Oracle and the Frozen Saint tried almost a hundred years ago. Clearly, the Oracle and those that carry the color of her approval think that all this suffering can be solved by removing the Bloody Prince."


    "Do you disagree?" Molam asked.


    "I don''t. But that''s besides the point." Kalle sipped at his tea again before continuing. "That''s your specific struggle, Molam. I like to think anyone with a degree of empathy wants to fix all this suffering; we just operate at different levels." He set down his cup and held out his hands in a wide gesture. "A village child struggles to till the field because it will help their village minimize the suffering of Winter''s Sorrow. Or, a Master Alchemist struggles to understand the applications of moonberry extract because it may end up helping those suffering from sensitivity to the leylines."


    "What''s your specific struggle then, Kalle?" Molam interlaced his fingers and observed the alchemist. "What suffering are you trying to fix? I assume it has something to do with that." His eyes flickered to the man''s undecorated scar as he raised a finger and touched the bridge of his nose.


    The alchemist pinched his nose bridge, running his index finger and thumb against the scar across his face. "Remember what I told you at the inn? Have you considered learning tact? Maybe consider that this might be a mark of shame?"


    "Tact is for when you are afraid of someone else''s reaction." Molam said with a straight face. "Considering you wear it so openly without covering it, I think you''ve overcome your shame."


    The lingering silence and Kalle''s gaze almost made Molam think that he had mistaken Kalle''s predisposition, but then the alchemist responded. "You''re right, but also wrong. I assume you also had elders that espoused caution. And then as young men, we don''t ever listen." He tapped at the side of his face where the scar ended. "I was young and foolish, so I received this when I¡­I lost a duel, trying to change something without fully understanding its nature."


    "The reason I keep it uncovered is so others can see it." The candlelight flickered and the shadow of the raised scar seemed to etch deeper into Kalle''s face as his voice lowered. "So their lingering stares remind me to never forget that there are things I cannot do. It keeps me humble, in a way."


    "You don''t need others to remind you of your shortcomings." The words came out harsher than Molam intended. He paused, then softened his voice. "You might consider it a mark of shame, but I don''t think so, Kalle. All I see is a man who made mistakes when he was young and grew from it. You might not need to cover that scar, but you shouldn''t torture yourself with it either."


    "What would you know about scars and being told by your own people that you aren''t good enough?" Kalle exhaled with a bitter tone that Molam did not associate with the man. "A daily reminder that I was not good enough."


    "Not all scars are visible, Kalle." Molam drained his cup of cold tea without wincing. "Believe me: they ache all the same."


    ***


    Molam waited until he returned to the room they had given him and closed the door before he began reviewing his notes.


    "Well?" He murmured in a low voice.


    No jade talisman that I could detect.


    "Then they were smarter than I thought."


    It is probably for muting the effect of Primrose''s Charm. Perhaps they are intelligent enough to not bring the talisman with them when Primrose is not involved.


    "It''s possible." Molam inhaled deeply, holding the breath in his lungs as he tried to think. It was moments before he let go of the breath in a low murmur, "Well, we didn''t manage to isolate the holder of the talisman, but I still got to understand what I have to work with."


    You are trusting them without having determined the traitor?


    He shrugged, walking to his bed and shedding his outer layer of clothes. "Did you think I can just bring the elderwood back to Sanctuary by myself? I''ll need this organization."


    Take care that you do not rush them into a plan they are unprepared for.


    "That''s why I met with them today, to learn more about them." Molam leaned back into his bed. "Readiness is about passion and mindset. One either forces something to happen or paves the way for it to happen in a¡­ predetermined manner. Do it well and all participants will act just as planned."


    You seem to think humans don''t have much personal agency.


    "They don''t. That''s why it''s so easy to drive them to the extreme. They''ll participate, willingly or unwillingly, but at the end of the day they''ll believe they had no choice in the matter. They''ll even say that it couldn''t have happened any other way."


    Does that not apply to you as well?


    He closed his eyes and ignored the shadows that danced along the walls. The weight of his head sank into the pillow''s softness as he prayed to God Yven to not send dreams.


    "It did once," he murmured. "But now, I''m going to be the one that paves the way." before he drifted off to sleep.

 Ch 15: All Under the Sun

    Are the Gods willing to prevent suffering, but unable?


    Then why hope?


    Are they able, but unwilling?


    Then why worship?


    Are they both able and willing?


    Then why do we suffer?


    Are they neither able nor willing?


    Then why call them Gods?


    ¡ª Excerpt from The Woe of Life, by Scholar Epycurus of the Fallen Star Pavilion


    <hr>


    By the start of the second day, the reality of keeping up with his own plans exhausted Molam to no end. He appreciated Primrose''s strong grip over the organization as they received information in their base of operations, taking down notes as various people came and went, reporting from Lyka, Kalle, and Shurra.


    He found the parchment they had served its purpose despite being unevenly cut. At first, he wondered how a group such as theirs had the funds to afford the expensive stationery he had access to even if they owned the market for warming stones, only to realize the source when one of Kalle''s people came in with a fresh stack of parchment. Small wonder then, that Kalle commanded such importance in the group despite only joining recently. His expertise alone enabled the group to function at a higher level of efficiency.


    Molam listened alongside Primrose as an informant relayed the observed patrol routes and actions of the city guards. He took care of jotting down each relevant piece of information alongside Primrose, having insisted on his being able to take his own set of notes based on what he found particularly useful. With a final stroke of his brush, he nodded to Primrose, indicating his satisfaction with the man''s answers and allowed Primrose to dismiss their informant.


    The informant received a handful of warming stones from a nearby member named Theresa. It was a way for their group to reward their members and distribute it without causing alarm to the city guards. For some reason yesterday, several distribution routes had been targeted by the city guards as though the patrols had expected them and the warming stones confiscated. Initially perplexed, Primrose had listened to Lyka and Shurra''s proposal that they avoid further conflict by withholding distribution of the warming stones until after they controlled the city, but then Molam intervened, stating that they could not afford to stop showing their members why they were the better option. Instead, he argued the resident informant system would be an adequate way for them to distribute it chiefly among their members and they could share it with those they cared about. Furthermore, given the closeness of the timing to their plan they needed to make their group be more attractive to the residents, now more than ever.


    Primrose had hesitated but agreed. The two of them watched as the resident informant left with the last bag of warming stones, followed by the member as she went to Kalle''s and restock on their supply.


    "That was the last one?" he asked, taking stock of what he had just learned as he shifted his head side to side, stretching his neck.


    "For now."


    Primrose stood up, extending herself upwards with a sigh as she reached towards the ceiling and raised her calves. Today, Primrose had chosen a blue dress with black gloves on her hands, making Molam wonder at her dexterity in also writing with gloved fingers. Molam noticed Primrose had mastered the art of dressing for comfort and a regal presence without coming across so rich as to make any members of their group wonder if she was misappropriating the group''s funds, though he could not understand why she seemed insistent on wearing a dress despite the gradual seeping chill.


    He himself stretched his neck and then vocalized a thought. "This group needs a name."


    Primrose continued her stretches. "Perhaps, but avoiding it so far has meant safety. Names, like Titles, give too much identity to the world."


    "Which has been fine so far, but not if we intend to push further." Molam dipped a brush in the ink before continuing to make notes based on what he had learned, grateful for the spirit''s aid in ensuring the ink did not freeze over in the chilly room. He had purposefully worn a layer less than the others under Primrose''s watchful eyes. "A cohesive sense of identity is important for humans to act. It helps them act with a combined purpose."


    "Oh? Perhaps you can give me an example or two?"


    "For example, the Empire of the Sun does much to cultivate their citizens'' sense of identity and pride in being independent of the Gods. You can see it in various other forms. The Red Army, for one, has various named regiments such as the Dawn Cavalry within the second division. The mursashu are led by the Mursa, but to separate their areas of responsibility, they are divided into mursasho led by a mursashi, each mursasho has an identifying name." He paused. "I imagine even the group that follows GloomSire introduces themselves to their merchant victims as UnSeen."


    "Hmm," Primrose had reached for her toes in a standing position, then stood up again, her burnt-orange hair flying above her and settling around her shoulders. Molam was impressed that none of the satem flowers flew out of her hair with the maneuver. "We''ve purposefully avoided it so the city guards would gain nothing should they decide to interrogate any captured members." She rearranged her tangled hair around her shoulders. "We''ve achieved much with our combined purpose, without needing a name so far. What more are you proposing we achieve with a name?"


    "We''ve achieved this much because the group had something to offer and we were appealing to the self-interest of each member. Warming stones? The temptation that something else was better? All of that is easy for these members to align themselves with. The lack of a group identity is also a potential downfall." Molam watched Primrose as she settled her hair back to how it was. "We''re about to ask them to betray the Empire. To risk freeing JiangXi. To risk the Bloody Prince''s wrath and another repeat of Kamisukawa. People value their lives, Primrose. The only way to override self-interest is to convince them that there''s something greater than them; something worth giving their lives for." He blinked away the encroaching darkness, refusing to allow the memories to resurface. "Give enough people a sense of group identity, they align their values with the group and do the things they need to do, no matter what you ask, no matter how much they might personally object."


    Primrose twisted her upper body to the side, a graceful movement that splayed out the hem of her blue dress like a blooming flower and held that pose for a moment as her purple eyes gazed at Molam. "That almost sounds like they stop thinking for themselves and simply do what the group wants."


    He shrugged at that. Though the air was chilly, flames surged just out of his vision. He ignored the ethereal scent of burning flesh and shifted in his chair, stretching out his limbs.


    "After all, that''s how humans ¡ª and their ideas ¡ª survive the test of time. No individual is more important than the group. Since we''re announcing ourselves to the city of JiangXi, and by extension, the Empire of the Sun and the rest of Free Cities in a few days, we may as well."


    Primrose sat down, smoothing out her dress and then raised an eyebrow at Molam. "Well, given the amount of thought you''ve put into this, I''m quite certain you have a name in mind then."


    An image of golden horns chased away the flames that burned just outside his vision and he almost laughed. "Hardly. But it is something that should be considered. Ideally we will have a name soon."


    "Perhaps you could give it some thought. After all, it''s your idea." She pushed aside her notes and then leveraged a stiff stare at him. "While a group name is quite the fanciful thinking, shouldn''t we be more worried about the other thing we discussed?"


    A knock on the door, and the next informant poked his head in. Molam signaled for them to enter. "Later," he said. "What we know of the board is incomplete."


    They listened as the informant, a gaunt-looking man with sunken cheeks wearing the armor of a city guard, relayed information about the city guards expecting a change in patrol routes upon Winter''s Sorrow, and a new request for evaluation of the combat readiness of the city guards'' gear. Primrose asked questions, but it seemed that the informant was only able to confirm so much. Molam''s thoughts swirled with unease as he noted down each detail, drawing the change in patrol routes onto a map of the city and while it remained inconclusive, the suspicion nagged at him. The nature of the change seemed too targeted, too precise.


    Finally, Molam asked a question. "What was the reasoning for all of this change?"


    The turncoat looked at Primrose, who nodded for him to answer the question.


    "It isn''t something the quartermasters tend to explain, but I have heard that the City Lord plans on ensuring nothing can happen during Winter''s Sorrow after the roads are all blocked. The City Lord is expecting to welcome a mursashu caravan."


    Molam nodded to himself as he reviewed his notes. "And has a change like this happened before within the past three years?"


    "I¡­" The informant paused, stroking his wide chin with a gloved hand. "I don''t recall. But if I had to guess, I don''t think so."


    "Thank you." Molam gave Primrose a look, then nodded.


    "You have done well. Help yourself to a warmed bun before you resume your duties." Primrose indicated to Theresa to give the man a bigger allotment of warming stones, and the informant left.


    Molam studied the map and continued to contemplate. A sudden change in patrol routes, and an unexpected evaluation for combat readiness. Another mursashu caravan, or the same one for Mursa Shang? Suspicion gave way to simmering certainty, a feeling that echoed how he had felt when he had first walked out of the Inner Sanctum and was confronted by Priestess Komura. He looked up at Theresa. "Thank you for your work. May I speak to Primrose alone?"


    The girl looked at Primrose, who nodded. The door closed behind them.


    "Someone leaked information." Molam kept his tone mild. "Very specific information about what we''re going to do." He pointed to the map. "The city guards will be poised to be able to respond to the places we are targeting. By tomorrow, the guards will have adjusted to their newest locations and we''ll be hard pressed to jailbreak or pull them away from Agytha."The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Primrose stayed silent. Then, "So are we calling it off? You said we needed to wait for Winter''s Sorrow to ensure that we could proceed with full confidence if the Tempest didn''t return. We can still back out."


    Molam chewed on the inside of his lip, eyes focused on the map in front of him. The chain of consequences played itself out in his mind. If he couldn''t gain control of JiangXi, then he couldn''t get the elderwood. If the Empire still had control by Spring''s Blessings, they would burn it for the Festival of the Hero and he would need to wait another year to have another chance.


    His writing brush splintered in his hand and he let go, realizing that he had been clenching it with frustration. The thought of delaying his own return was already unpalatable, but even worse, it disgusted him that RainBringer could have possibly planned this out five years ago when she told him to retrieve the spirit in exchange for her promise.


    "I think I have a better idea. The others won''t like it, but I need you to pay attention to them."


    ***


    At Molam''s behest, Primrose had recalled Kalle, Shurra, and Lyka to the base after Molam explained the new strategy to her. Judging by her pressed lips, it was clear that she initially objected. As he laid out his reasonings one by one, he found her nodding and agreeing to help.


    Molam looked about at the other co-leaders and cleared his throat.


    "We attack tonight."


    The response was almost immediate.


    "Tonight?!" Lyka exploded. "What happened to waiting until Winter''s Sorrow?"


    "We aren''t fully prepared to do this tonight," Shurra agreed, "All preparations had been based on your three-day plan. To change it on such short notice would only reflect poor leadership."


    "Now, now, I''m sure Molam has his reason. At least let us listen to him." Kalle was busy tapping a hammer against the hinge of the door to the meeting room. "It''s freezing. Can we have some hot mead? I''ll even take tea."


    I think the jade talisman is here.


    He gave Primrose a quick glance from the corner of his eye, and found that she was already pouring the tea. At best, he could only hope that Primrose was also keeping an eye out for everyone''s reactions, for she knew them better than he did.


    "New developments have arrived, and we will act upon it." Molam held up his notes, then placed them on the table in case anyone wanted to read through them. "The city guards have been given orders to heighten their security. We cannot afford to wait until they are prepared."


    "But neither can we attack while we aren''t prepared, or have you forgotten that?" Lyka ignored the notes, though Shurra had picked them up and was sifting through them. "We aren''t a standing army. We''re just a nameless group that cannot risk ¡ª"


    "We''re going to be named the Dao." Primrose stated.


    "¡ª sacrifice and ¡ª what? The Dao?" Lyka paused in her tirade, and even Molam needed to mask his surprise at Primrose''s interjection. "We''re even going with a name now?"


    Primrose smiled as she poured hot tea for Lyka. "Indeed, though if there are any of you that suggest something better, it can be put up for consideration." She gave Molam a sideways glance. "Since we haven''t had one for so long, I am of course willing to discard this one if a better one is suggested."


    "The Dao," Kalle mused, standing up and testing the door while looking at their group gathered around the table, "From the Old Tongue? I believe it means ''The Way.''"


    "It will serve as an announcement to the rest of the Free Cities." Primrose rested the teapot and sat down again. "Since the Free Cities have been reluctant to extend their worries beyond their own borders, we need to show them a path forward."


    "As eager as I am to participate in the legend of the Dao, it amounts to little if the Dao does not make a good start." Shurra''s blue eyes panned around the room while she sat with her head leaning against a gloved fist, until finally her gaze landed firmly on Molam. "Explain more about why we are attacking tonight."


    "We''re going to need a better explanation than you panicking," Lyka placed both hands on the table and caused the tea to shake violently. "You yourself said that it was best to wait until IceMourne''s divine snow closed off the roads."


    "I did say that," Molam did not raise his voice as Lyka had, but his heartbeat pounded in his ears as he kept his expression neutral. "And as I also said earlier, the circumstances have changed. We may not be fully prepared, but neither is the city. In fact, we are more prepared than they are."


    Kalle sat down in his chair and held out an arm across Lyka before she could speak. It seemed he was done fixing the door. "Even assuming that is true, the City Lord has the authority to light the signal fires and request reinforcements from the Red Army. If the roads are not closed off, we can hardly expect to fight off even a small battalion."


    Molam held out a disarming hand as an agreeable gesture. "With only a day left, where would the City Lord receive reinforcements from? Falysos, the nearest Empire city, is at least four days'' travel away. Even if Falysos'' Titled One deployed, they would need two days to arrive." Though he focused on looking at Kalle, he ensured that both Lyka and Shurra were in his vision. Hopefully, Primrose was observing too.


    "And the Tempest?" asked Shurra.


    "The Tempest has been engaged with GloomSire and the UnSeen. Even assuming she succeeds in the subjugation and somehow comes back before Winter''s Sorrow closes off the roads, GloomSire is a Titled One. A clash between the two of them will hardly leave the Tempest at her full strength."


    "If they clashed." Lyka spoke pointedly, her eyes on him. "Unless you can confirm this, we can''t possibly know. And if we don''t know, it''s best to assume the worst." She turned to Primrose. "We can''t do any of this with all this uncertainty. Lives are at stake, Prim." The woman looked at the others. "Not just our lives either. If the Tempest returns, it''ll be a bloodbath. If the Empire ¡ª if the Bloody Prince finds out ¡ª we might risk another repeat of Kamisukawa. He''ll dye the river red."


    Shurra crossed her arms. "I''m not afraid of fighting Agytha or any of the city guards. But the city guards have their own share of auramasters, and I''m quite sure they outnumber us. Not to mention, if the Tempest returns we have nothing."


    Kalle shrugged. "This is honestly out of my area of expertise. I''m not even participating in the fighting, right? That''s on the three of you." He pointed to Lyka, Shurra, and Primrose.


    "And that''s the problem isn''t it?" Lyka seized on that. "It''s our lives he''s risking!" She pointed at Molam. "While you two useless men take the easy job of overseeing the jailbreak and fight auramasters at best, you don''t risk fighting a Titled One yourself, and ¡ª"


    "Lyka''s absolutely right." Molam responded. "I''ll be joining the attack on the Mansion."


    For a moment, there was stunned silence as Kalle raised an eyebrow and Shurra''s eyes narrowed as she looked him up and down. Then Lyka regained her composure. "Oh, you will now? So you can stay back and watch while you take notes, just like what you''ve done this entire time cozying up in here while we go out and freeze?" Lyka sneered. "Strategy, is it? The art of coming up with plans and then sending people off to their deaths, so you can then ''revise'' it and reposition yourself. I know your kind," Lyka said savagely. "Prim and I have seen ¡ª"


    "Lyka." Primrose spoke up, a hint of warning. "Your concern is valid, but we will trust our strategist''s judgment." She reached out and held Lyka''s hand. "And if you cannot trust his judgment, then I ask that you trust mine."


    Lyka fell silent and looked as though she would argue, then threw Molam a glare before she nodded.


    Primrose looked to Molam with concern. "I didn''t know you were going to join us."


    Molam crossed his arms, placing his hand over his armguard. "It''s my plan, and Lyka''s right. It makes no sense for me to remove myself from the fighting if I''m asking you to risk your lives. But I agree that the auramasters that form up part of the city guards could be a problem, so there was one thing I had Kalle prepare to ensure this could work in our favor. Kalle?"


    Kalle looked surprised. "Here?"


    Molam nodded.


    Reaching into his cloak, Kalle gingerly pulled out several vials of a clear liquid and set them on the table.


    Shurra''s eyes narrowed and she shifted in her seat. "Is that¡­?"


    "Just a sleeping draught. I asked Kalle to create a batch," Molam directed his gaze to Shurra. "Colorless and odorless. We''ll make them sleep, and the ones that can still fight will be groggy."


    "Underhanded methods like this won''t be a respectable way to announce the Dao," Shurra stood up with a clenched jaw, looking towards Primrose. "This is not what you promised me."


    "If you wish to engage in single combat with the Agytha, that''s perfectly arrangeable." Molam placed his palms flat on the table, "I''m not asking you to fight a drugged Agytha. This is only going to ensure that our jailbreak in the city goes off without a hitch."


    Shurra stared down at him, her fingers flexing undecidedly. "Agytha is my hunt," she declared with finality.


    Molam looked to Shurra. "I can guarantee you a duel with the City Lord Agytha if you want. A City Lord of the Empire. That should make for a good story around the HeartHomes."


    The Northerner nodded after a moment of pondering. "No outsider interference."


    "And the sleeping draught will ensure the city guards don''t disturb your hunt," Molam soothed her. "I hope you see more value in fighting Agytha alone than being constantly interrupted?"


    After a moment of contemplation, the Northerner sat down. Molam could appreciate her blatant honesty when it came to avoiding underhanded means, but he saw no reason to do so himself.


    "I don''t think it needs to be said, but I want you to acknowledge we are free to resume our primary goal of capturing her should you lose the duel."


    Shurra palmed the hilt of her sword. "I don''t lose."


    "Then there''s nothing to worry about. Lyka? Any concerns?"


    "What about the city guards that resist capture? Do we kill them?" asked Lyka.


    "No," Molam did not want to consider it. He paused, closing his eyes and trying his best to shove aside the dark-blue gaze in his mind before looking back at the rest. "Not unless we''re forced to. Many of the city guards have family in the city, and I''m quite certain that they have little loyalty to Agytha. Claiming the city only to invite another internal uprising is a poor plan at best. Once we have Agytha, Primrose can do some light convincing. The stubborn ones can be housed in the newly vacant jails for some... more convincing. Any other concerns, Lyka?"


    The woman shook her head. "None that would matter at this point. The decision has been made." She held her hands out. "As part of the group, it''s my duty to be committed even if I disagree."


    "That''s all I ask." Molam looked at Kalle. "I''m sorry to make you oversee the latter half of the jailbreaking logistics on your own. Just think of it as ¡­" He searched for an apt comparison. "As¡­guiding an avalanche of snow, but it''s all people."


    Kalle made a face that scrunched up his beard. "That''s a terrible analogy, but I understand what you mean."


    "I tried, alright?" Molam smiled at the alchemist. "We''ll get it started together before the rest of us split off to look for Agytha in the City Lord''s Mansion, and I trust you to keep it going while keeping the city guards busy. The city must be secured, or we lose everything." Molam drummed his fingers against the table. "Do all of you understand? The City Lord Agytha must be captured."


    Shurra''s normally pale cheeks flushed as she looked down upon their seated forms, the look of disapproval still evident on her face. Lyka''s dark features were equally pallid, but she voiced no objection. Kalle and Primrose''s eyes glinted in the candlelight at him.


    "Then I suppose these are for me. The garrison, right?" Primrose reached for the glass vials, and they disappeared swiftly into her dress before she pointed to Molam''s cloak hanging from his chair. "May I borrow that?"


    Molam hesitated, looking at the cloak Komura had given him. Then he nodded. "We''ll begin right after sunset. Meet us in front of the City Lord''s Mansion then."


    She wrapped his cloak around herself and pulled the hood over her burnt-orange hair, tucking it all in and then winking at the group. "And if things go poorly, Molam has command in my absence. Understand?"


    The other members nodded. Primrose gave both Shurra and Lyka a look that said she expected them to obey her order before she left, smiling at Kalle who had opened the door for her.


    The door closed and Molam sat back, eyeing the three as they looked back at him. He wondered if he should comment on being trusted with the command, then thought better of it. He took a deep breath and reminded himself that all of this was for him to free JiangXi, obtain the city''s allotment of elderwood, and as the Oracle put it: gain the army he had once wanted. And that meant he should take care to not lose them now.


    "So," he began, looking at Shurra and Lyka. "Tell me about your preferred ways of fighting in a group."

 Ch 16: Sow

    He once told me "the culmination of life''s purpose and meaning can only be found in the circumstances of one''s death: what we left behind, and whether this world the Creators bound us to is better in the wake of our passing."


    It haunts me still. What was the purpose of my life? What will I have left behind?


    Will this world be better because I have lived?


    ¡ª Excerpt from Meditations, by the Red Emperor


    <hr>


    Winter''s Sorrow was nigh, and the city of JiangXi itself seemed to be holding a collective breath. Citizens still milled about in large, roving crowds, huddled together for warmth, but the telltale signs of shops and stalls closing down was unmistakable. The prediction of IceMourne''s arrival had spread long before even the first herald had shouted the news. No one wanted to be unprepared for the long wait for Spring''s Blessings to arrive.


    Primrose stalked the edges of one of these crowds, wrapping the black cloak she had borrowed from Molam around herself. She approved of Molam''s choice; the cloak was not too heavy yet provided a good buffer against the cold. They said that Hjornheim, the ancestral home of the Northern Tribes, was steeped in an eternal Winter''s Sorrow as a punishment from IceMourne for their participation in the killing of DuskWing, and Primrose could scarcely fathom their insistence on living in such a condition. If the very area you lived in was cursed to never feel warm, shouldn''t you leave and seek better soil?


    But she had little time to think on these matters as she shuffled her way past the crowds, tucking away a strand of her auburn locks. Everyone had a task that suited their skills, and now it was her time to perform what she was best at. Yet, the situation she had temporarily left behind was dire and creeped itself back into her thoughts as she made her way to the garrisons.


    There was a traitor. They had contained the information as much as possible, yet the city guards were making preparations that were too directly correlated to their plans to be coincidental. Though she did not know Molam for long, the white aura that clung to him was the unmistakable color of the Oracle''s approval. And while she would have liked to vouch for the others¡­it made sense that City Lord Agytha would have long known about the Dao. Molam himself was proof that her Charm could be resisted.


    The alarming speed at which the events were developing scarcely gave her a moment to organize her thoughts even as she was going through the motions. It felt so long ago that the Oracle had told her to sow the seeds of tomorrow in JiangXi and wait for her to send help, but when that help had arrived in the form of Molam everything had been put into motion. Primrose understood his logic, but the speed at which he grasped opportunities left her with trepidation. It had only been days since they met. Why was everything progressing so swiftly? Where did that sort of confidence come from? Why was he so eager to move this quickly?


    Could she trust him at all?


    She could only hope that his perceived intellect and skills were capable of backing the confidence he had in directing such a fast paced endeavor. To fail here would be to undo three years of work. The Bloody Prince''s century-long history of reclaiming Empire territories after the Fracturing in the wake of the Red Emperor''s death was well known. She had seen Kamisukawa''s crumbling ruin in passing, a standing reminder of the fate of a city that had turned against the Bloody Prince.


    Failure here meant the city of JiangXi would suffer a similar wrath.


    Wait, she corrected herself. Failure at any time from now on meant dragging innocent lives in. Tonight, they announce themselves in a bid for freeing JiangXi from the Empire''s control.


    She stepped aside with the crowd as several men passed by, carrying a large crate in the direction of the docks on their shoulders. To lose a strategic city with control over trade like this one would be a critical blow to the Empire''s economy and boost the possibility of uniting the Free Cities as a concerted force.


    And still, the enigma. Why did she only See the Oracle''s white aura around Molam?


    He had burnt the ropes, that much was evident even if one could not See. He seemed to be more tolerant of the cold. Characteristics of a red auramaster. Yet, she hadn''t Seen a hint of red.


    Of course, it could be a blend. Primrose had never Seen another person with the Oracle''s color, and had no idea what to expect. It was entirely possible that the Oracle''s color of approval masked the color of the person''s natural aura.


    Questions, questions, and more questions. Primrose decided that all of it could wait as she came upon the garrison doors and palmed a dagger from within her sleeves. She could consider him at leisure after all of this, but it wouldn''t do for her to be distracted when she went about her task.


    The setting sun told her it was almost suppertime and the guards would be rotating shifts with hungry stomachs. There was not much she could do about the ones that were out on patrol, but all they needed was to incapacitate enough guards for them to do what needed to be done.


    She lowered her breathing and masked her presence even more as she slipped into the garrison, the vials clinking silently under her dress. The kitchens would be easy to find if she just followed her nose.


    ***


    Molam looked about at the members gathered by Shurra. Less than fifty total gathered in the largest room they had, what had been an empty tavern at the edge of the city but before the docks. All of them had been gathered with little preparation and based on Shurra''s expression, not all of the ones she trained had shown up.


    Perhaps they couldn''t.


    Perhaps they wouldn''t.


    The members that did show up shuffled in place, seemingly uncertain about the situation as Shurra explained that they were going to hasten the plan to tonight. Several members asked where Primrose had gone, and seemed even more nervous when they were told that Primrose needed to accomplish a task on her own to incapacitate the city guards.


    Lyka stood in silence to his right, her spear cradled against the crook of her arm. Kalle leaned against a wall to his left, and the three of them watched Shurra as she struggled to explain the plan by pointing to the map and the areas Molam had circled out for them.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    "She''s terrible at this." Lyka shook her head, and Kalle nodded.


    This one''s battlefield is in blood and blade, not in front of others. The spirit observed.


    Molam agreed, but these were members that Shurra had trained and he didn''t think it was his place to step in. Yet as Shurra droned on, nearly matching what Molam had explained to her earlier, Molam could only see their members frown and struggle to understand what they were doing. He had seen a Master Alchemist and a Mursa give speeches to a group in the past and they had not lost control of their audience''s attention the way Shurra meandered at this very moment.


    As Shurra blundered through another lengthy discussion of the exact routes certain members should take, Molam felt his body clam up with worry. He looked at the gathered members and saw only people staring with unfocused eyes, trying to commit what Shurra said to memory only to have Shurra correct herself or repeat herself. Molam hesitated, but he could not risk the group''s members not understanding what they were about to do and more importantly, why they were doing it.


    Molam stood forward and tapped on Shurra''s shoulder, stopping her mid-sentence. She turned around and looked down at him, then seeing his look, cleared her throat and stepped to the side. "In Primrose''s absence, our strategist will take over."


    "Thank you, Shurra. And I have one announcement." Molam straightened his back as he looked at the gathered members, meeting several of their eyes and seeing their perplexed expressions. "At Primrose''s request, from tonight we are known as the Dao."


    Eyebrows raised and lips became pressed together; many even frowned, but Molam was undeterred. This was just another battle, one that he had seen others do before. A battle to win the hearts of those that followed.


    What had Flangel the Wise said? Humans are curious things. We like to think we are beings of logic, yet emotion rules our actions. Rule the heart, and the mind will find the logic to justify any action. Molam had agreed, but only because he had seen what desperate humans were willing to do. To others. To him.


    He wouldn''t allow the ones gathered in front of him to do the same. He couldn''t, and so he must rule them.


    Molam clasped his hands together in front of him with a resounding clap as he stared at them. "Some of you may think of me as new to the group. That is correct. But make no mistake; we share a common goal."


    "Who here remembers the JiangXi from before Agytha''s time?" He raised his arm, and saw that several people hesitantly raised their own, but he didn''t wait long. "Who remembers when Winter''s Sorrow was bearable, and the city took care of its own? The Empire takes and you were fine with it then because you could trust it to give back when you needed it to. There was trust." He punched a hand into an open palm. "Was. No longer."


    "Did you think that things would change if you just waited? That if you just stayed quiet and allowed Agytha to do what she wanted, she would suddenly turn around and apologize? That''s long gone, my friends." He paced about slowly, taking care to not turn his body fully so they could see his face as he spoke. "If she really cared, she would show it. But she hasn''t, and Winter''s Sorrow starts tonight! Where is the wood? Where is the food? Where is the implicit promise between citizens and the government?"


    A man shouted his agreement, and a chorus of voices joined him. Molam held up his hands, calming them down as he nodded to the one that had shouted. "Primrose gathered all of us here and I believe you all understood why. Perhaps part of you thought of it as a fallback plan. Perhaps you were curious, or participated only out of resentment in something that felt rebellious in nature but didn''t actually draw the Empire''s ire. Perhaps you were convinced that it wouldn''t happen; that it was just a way to get warming stones and feel like you were doing something, without actually needing to do something."


    "But I''m here to tell you that tonight, we are doing something. I won''t lie: there is no going back. And it''s not because you wanted this, no." He looked at the audience, seeing their eyes glimmering back at him. "You didn''t want this; you were forced to do this."


    He borrowed a sentence seared into his memory from a long time ago, his voice becoming lower and the audience leaned in to hear him. "For you and for your loved ones, you don''t have a choice."


    "JiangXi needs change, and I have always believed that change does not come to those who wait. No, change comes to those that make it happen. Three years you''ve suffered Agytha ¡ª and now it is time to say: Enough!" He held out a hand in front of him and then clenched it tightly in front of the crowd. "The Empire of the Sun has lost its way if the likes of Agytha can be appointed City Lord, and it is time to make your resentment known."


    "We won''t set fire to the city. We only need to free our siblings from their unjust imprisonment and distract the city guards away from the City Lord''s Mansion. Then the leadership," he pointed to Shurra, Kalle, Lyka, and then at himself, "Will go to the City Lord''s Mansion and capture Agytha. With her in our hands, the city guards will have no reason to fight their own fellow citizens, not for a City Lord that never cared for them."


    He pointed to the map, at the lines and the circles he had drawn, then stepped to the side so that the audience could see it. "The plan is just a guide. It''s fine if you can''t memorize it, I don''t expect you to! What really matters is remembering what we''re trying to accomplish; and seizing opportunities when they arise. So keep this in mind: what we''re trying to accomplish is distracting the city guards and keeping them away from the City Lord''s Mansion for as long as possible. Break as many people out of the jails as possible; cause havoc, but kill no one and don''t be killed or we will invite lethal violence."


    He looked at them, focusing on the more heavily armed members with a stern gaze. "None of us should be the first to draw blood, understand? I won''t ask any of you to risk your lives because that is not your responsibility. Your lives are you own, and you''re not here because you want to risk it but because you want something better ¡ª I understand that." Molam exhaled. "I understand that more than you think. No one needs to put themselves in danger besides those of us capturing Agytha."


    Molam walked back to stand next to Shurra before swiveling around to look at the gathered members again. "Tonight is the night we succeed and announce the Dao to the Empire. The Empire has lost their way." He grinned at the members, showing teeth. "Are you ready to show the Empire the Dao?"


    ***


    Lyka shook her head in silence as Molam finished his speech to the cheering and applause of the gathered members. She grudgingly admired Molam''s skills in both planning and speech-giving. Both sides of the man marveled her; the cunning tactical mind that discussed the strategy in the room with just the five of them, and now the way he spoke not in the way Shurra had with telling the members what to do, but why they should be doing it.


    She found herself nervously fingering the jade talisman hidden in her pocket, wondering if her agreeable feelings towards Molam were the result of the man''s hitherto unknown ability to Charm.


    Fidgeting with the shaft of her spear, Lyka wondered how things could have been different if she had managed to convince them to wait until after Spring''s Blessings. She and Agytha had almost managed to complete their duty. Part of her regretted not killing Molam initially, when Kalle had first brought him into their hideout. She chased the thought away; she could not be blamed for not foreseeing that Molam would have become such a problem.


    Lyka followed him with her eyes as he seemed to be awkward in front of the crowd again, shaking a few hands and receiving words of encouragement. She decided that she liked him more than she would vocally admit. Against her own inclination, Lyka could understand why the Oracle had chosen him. For a brief few moments, he reminded her of the Shield of Oasis.


    A shame she had to kill him.

 Second Interlude

    Excerpt from Of Dragons and Seasons, by Head Scholar Lauryn of the Fallen Star Pavilion


    <hr>


    Summer''s Warmth was not always the most anticipated of the four Seasons.


    There are few alive today that still remember a time when Summer''s Warmth was called Summer''s Plague. The memories of Summer''s Plague are said to start since the creation of the Sun, further evidenced by the fact that "Plague" and "Warmth" share a similar sound in the Old Tongue. It was only six centuries ago when Summer still had its own dragon ¡ª DuskWing, who claimed the Black Pyramid as his Lair in the Endless Sands. The legends passed down from this time speak of the Season of fear, anxiety, and suffering shared throughout the land.


    But legends do not tell the whole story captured in the records by Scholars from the time. As Flangel the Wise once spoke on the subject: "All know the legend. Few remember the nightmare."


    Based on all records, the Plague spread wherever DuskWing flew. Cities feared that dark shadow coiling through the sky, but it was the sheer uncertainty of whether DuskWing''s Plague would manifest that caused chaos, for sometimes an animal or traveler would be the carrier. The Plague manifested slowly, a burning fever that sapped the strength and aura of all it infected. The people died of thirst no matter how much water they drank and the bodies needed to be burnt or risk further spread. Those attuned to the healing arts could do little to alleviate the symptoms; most did not try, for fear of contracting the Plague themselves.


    In the dry heat of Summer, the cities all prayed to RainBringer for her cooling divine rain, but RainBringer seldom answered. And even if RainBringer did, God Yven had their claim once a patient showed signs of DuskWing''s Touch: black streaks all along the body''s meridians where aura no longer flowed.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Though DuskWing did not fly every year, the season of Summer became a time of constant distrust for travelers, for who knew whether someone entering the city carried DuskWing''s Plague with them? It was not unheard of for cities thriving after Spring''s Blessings to be utterly collapsed by the start of Autumn''s Colors, empty shells to be buried by EarthShaker''s waking tremors.


    It was during this time that the people of the Empire of the Sun implored the Red Emperor to come up with a solution. In response to their pleas, the Red Emperor gathered up the Nine Lords and drafted an expeditionary force to meet DuskWing. Every family within the Empire of the Sun was expected to offer up an individual for the cause.


    In the year 806 of the Sun, the Red Emperor and the Nine Lords trapped DuskWing in the Black Pyramid at the beginning of Summer''s Plague. Ten days later, of the expeditionary force''s one million fighters and ten Titled Ones, only the Red Emperor and six of the Nine Lords returned to Oasis alive. This has resulted in the exact circumstances of the battle with DuskWing being unrecorded, as none of the seven survivors spoke or wrote about their experience.


    The Red Emperor''s triumph over DuskWing was short-lived. In freeing humans from Summer''s Plague, many think the Red Emperor angered Heaven. It is said that this was when the Gods left Creation and closed off the Stairs, charging the Oracle to keep it sealed forever.


    The fury of the dragons was far more evident. DawnWing came down from Cold North to claim the dragonless and temperate Winter''s Love as her season; with Winter as her Domain, she spread her grief onto the humans who dared to kill her mate. The first decade of her rampage saw the land covered in ice and the Empire of the Sun lost another third of its population in the bitter frost. The Northern Tribes suffered the most, losing two entire Tribes during this time. Soon after, the people took to calling her IceMourne.


    And Winter''s Sorrow began.

 Ch 17: Conflict

    Peace is an illusion ¡ª an ideal state of perfection inherently impossible in a world that dreams of it.


    The day we no longer need the idea of peace will be the day we have achieved it.


    ¡ª Excerpt from Meditations, by the Red Emperor


    <hr>


    "If I win this game, you''ll tell me¡­ you''ll tell me why you want to sneak into Crimson City''s Palace. Or how you gained such a detailed map of the inside of the Palace. Did you live there for an amount of time?"


    "That''s not part of our bargain, and you are better off not knowing, Mursa Khan." Molam moved his piece, then accepted a pour of moon wine. "Not to mention, shouldn''t you be planning to beat me while I''m drunk and you''re the sober one?"


    "Bah." The Mursa stared down at the dragon chess board between the two of them, scratching at his thick black beard as he narrowed his eyes. "I''ll admit you are unparallel ¡­ unpara¡­ Gods fucking damnit, unbeatable! Unbeatable on the board you are. But you''ve traveled with my caravan for almost¡­" The Mursa''s eyes closed as he tried to recall before opening them again. "A¡­ a year? What - hic - what do you think of me as a merchant?"


    Molam raised an eyebrow. "I understand why you do the things you do. It makes sense, decisions that should allow you to control prices or take advantage of prices."


    "It makes sense, but it doesn''t ¡­ it doesn''t always work, does it?" the Mursa squinted, then reached forward with a finger and pushed a piece to the side.


    "That''s an illegal move."


    The Mursa swore, then reset his piece and shifted another piece instead and hiccuped. "You know what the problem is?"


    "...what problem?" Molam asked warily.


    "The problem. The eternal problem." The Mursa had swayed to the side as he refilled his own cup with moon wine. "The problem is - hic - is that strategy only works as well as¡­ as execution. I''m good at being Mursa. Almost never wrong in matters of commerce!" They had emptied the bottle of wine and the man threw it to the side, where it bounced off the side of the Mursa''s tent and rolled down. "But you¡­ you you¡­ you know what goes wrong? My mursashu ¡ª they make mistakes. Even the mursasho and they''re supposed to be my brightest." He emphasized the last word with bitter irony. "They aren''t pieces on a board and they don''t always do what they need to do and - hic - I can make¡­I can make the best, the greatest, the most wondrous plans. And yet¡­ yet, it can all fail and we lose money ¡­ because of what I have to work with."


    "That''s a terrible thought." Molam waited patiently for the Mursa to make his next move. "I hope I never need to deal with that."


    "Fuck dealing with people," the Mursa agreed. "But¡­ if you ever find yourself in a position to lead, then make sure you have people you - hic - people you can trust. Because then at least their ¡­ " he frowned, his thick eyebrows gathering together as he tried to complete his thought, "...at least their mistakes are honest. And remember: strategy is only ¡­ is only ever as good as execution." Mursa Khan hesitated, then shifted a second piece.


    Molam inclined his head. "I''ll keep that in mind, thank you. But after I do what I need to do in Crimson City''s Palace, I just plan on going home." He took both of his moves slowly so that the Mursa could see, then announced, "Checkmate."


    ***


    The lowest sections of JiangXi seemed devoid of all warmth in the shadows of the low-hanging Sun. The four city guards that had just arrived at their post in front of the dockside jails shivered with resignation to the coming evening''s watch, knowing they wouldn''t be relieved until midnight. They looked forward to the change in rotation planned for tomorrow.


    "The heck is that?" The one with the well-polished helmet pointed to a lump in another''s scarf. "You get into another one of your bar fights, Yuhan?"


    Yuhan looked sheepish, thumbing at his flat nose in the chill before he flipped open the scarf and showed the black stone nestled against his throat.


    "You bought one?" The first one said incredulously, shaking his head.


    "No, Lujie, I didn''t buy it damnit. They''re just collected in the barracks from the batch Tordo''s group seized yesterday." Yuhan looked annoyed that he needed to defend himself. "Look, Agytha isn''t giving us shit for the fucking cold and we have to stand out here for hours. I ain''t gonna lie; I got several lined up in my pants because she ain''t paying us enough to stand out here freezing our asses off." He shifted about, pulling at the leg of his pants. "Might just get my wife to sew ''em into the legs for me."


    "They''re untested, unverified alchemy inventions!" Lujie made a grab for the one at Yuhan''s neck.


    "Hey, get off! You wanna fucking freeze, be my guest, I ain''t taking this off."


    "Are you kidding me?" Lujie hissed. "You stole contraband from the captain''s office and these things sometimes explode! You have one¡­ on your neck! Gods be damned, think this through, you stupid rice bucket!"


    "What''re you two on about?" The other two guards walked over, the torch held high up in curiosity.


    "Yuhan''s stolen those¡­ heat? Heating stones? From the captain''s office, and now he''s got a bunch in his clothes." Lujie rounded on the two that arrived, Weimeng and Kang. "Help me talk sense into this idiot before he loses his stupid limbs."


    Weimeng and Kang exchanged a look. "I mean, given how cold it is we''re going to lose limbs if Agytha doesn''t start giving us wood to burn on guard duty regardless, ain''t that right?" Kang spoke with his lazy drawl. "Weimeng here was telling me how last night was so cold his wife even tried to sleep with him."


    "Oh fuck off," Weimeng exhaled into his fingers and rubbed them along his arms. "At least I''m married."


    "Better your wife sleep with you than look for something else that''s warm, hm?" Kang joked, then sidestepped a swipe from Weimeng. "I hear Yuhan''s got something nice and warm in his pants?"


    "Ha ha, aren''t you fucking funny. A regular riot. You should apply to be a jester in Exabell, I hear their City Lord appreciates dumb jokes."


    Lujie walked away, "I''m done with you idiots. We''re here to do a job and get paid."


    The three of them watched Lujie stalk away to the other side of the jailhouse. "He''s too uptight," Kang shrugged. "Think it''s the cold?"


    "Might be. It''s so fucking cold I can''t believe IceMourne hasn''t flown over us yet." Weimeng hopped about in place, stamping his feet into the ground. "Gotta move to stay warm, ey?"


    "Not me, it''s too fucking cold to move." Yuhan''s teeth chattered. "You idiots will be jealous of these heating stones soon, just you watch. I don''t know why Agytha''s so fucking adamant about stopping the sale of these all of a sudden, they''re a godsend. I can feel my arms and legs today."


    Kang eyed Yuhan. "Got any extra? Spare me a few."


    Yuhan frowned, then set his spear to the side and reached behind him.


    "Not the ones near your ass, Yuhan. You can keep those."


    "I wasn''t going to give you those, those are staying right where they are," Yuhan grumbled as he pulled two stones out from his lower back and offered them to Kang and Weimeng. "Just two. You can steal from Tordo''s office yourself if you want more."


    The other guards reached for the warming stones and then Yuhan found his legs yanked out from beneath him. The ground rushed at him and Yuhan hit the ground with a thud, the black stone in his scarf punching at his throat like the edge of a hand. He doubled over, fighting the urge to choke as his throat closed, tears freezing on his cheeks as he tried to understand what had just happened.


    Training took over and he clenched his jaw, forcing the strength into his body and limbs but unable to separate his legs. Blinking away the frozen tears, he looked down and saw a bolas wrapped tightly around his ankles and heard the shouting of Kang and Weimeng from somewhere around him. Yuhan rolled onto his back and saw a large Northern woman with short blonde hair and light blue eyes before she delivered a swift punch to his jaw, one that caused his head to ring.


    "Hm. I suppose you''re well trained in physical reinforcement." The Northern woman raised a second fist.


    "Wait!" Yuhan choked out, his throat still in pain. "Wait!"


    "No."


    The blow struck the side of his head and Yuhan blacked out.


    ***


    "I couldn''t catch up to that last one," Lyka came back to their group, spear in hand. "It''s too fucking cold."


    Shurra braced herself to leap but Molam held out a hand.


    "Let that one go," he commanded. "Three is fine. Tie them up, look for the keys, and free the other members." The members looked a bit too eager for blood, and Molam shouted at the others. "Remember. Bloodless! These city guards are your fellow residents that suffered under Agytha. Our only goal is Agytha."


    "Are you sure about letting that one go?" Shurra''s blue eyes had a hungry look in them.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    "Someone needs to deliver the message. The whole point of this is to get the city guards to overextend themselves. And if Primrose is doing her job¡­ not all of them will be ready to do anything." Molam walked them back towards the others. "You''ll get your fight later, Shurra. I need you to focus on helping me get Kalle set up for the distraction."


    They watched as the members swiftly found the keys and unlocked the cells. "Warm clothes, some food, and some water," Molam shouted at Kalle, who nodded and beckoned at the others. "Make sure no one''s dying. Prioritize them. We are losing no one, understand? Of the ones that are in fighting shape, just say that we''re distracting the city guards and capturing Agytha. They''re free to join in the distraction, or go back home to get a well deserved break. And give them a bunch of warming stones, will you?"


    "Shouldn''t we go to the Mansion?" Lyka prodded. "It''s almost sunset."


    "Not yet." Molam looked up at the rest of the city and the dark orange sky. "The city guards will be here soon. Lyka and Shurra, take your groups and split up to target the storage areas and the rest, then reconvene at the Shrine."


    Lyka frowned. "In Prim''s absence, she''s made you interim leader. That means I''m your bodyguard. I should stick with you."


    "I''m not in danger, and I will be traveling with Kalle and our main group. Let''s have some trust in those that Shurra trained. And," he surreptitiously twisted his armguard, causing a ring of flame to extend around his body, "I''m able to look after myself."


    The two women took a step back at the sudden appearance of the flames before it extinguished. Shurra nodded, and Lyka''s eyes lingered before she shrugged. "Alright then, if that''s what you want."


    Molam held up a finger. "And remember, no¡ª"


    "No bloodshed, I know, I know." Lyka pointed to the leather covering over her speartip. "At least, not until the City Lord''s Mansion."


    Molam shook his head. "We''re capturing Agytha, not killing her."


    "Tell that to Shurra." Lyka snorted as she whistled for her group to follow her. "See you two at the Shrine."


    Shurra folded her arms as they watched Lyka''s group melt into a side alley. "I can control myself."


    "I''m counting on it." Molam smiled at the Northerner.


    ***


    The Dao surged up the city in a split wave, taking care to approach each location in silence, but leaving it in an uproar. More people were jailed than Molam had imagined, but he didn''t care and let them out all the same. He welcomed the chance for the Dao to be seen as saviors even though he hoped that the city guards would be further distracted trying to track down and chase the fleeing inmates.


    Molam marked another area on his map in purple ink, then nodded at Kalle, who shouted for the members to move out. They had raided a storage room and several members of the Dao were instructed to distribute wood to as many people as possible.


    "You know, I see what you''re doing now that you''re marking it all with ink." Kalle observed from Molam''s side, scratching at his beard. "The red going down the main street is the guards, isn''t it?" The alchemist pointed to the map and the red line Molam had drawn, running down the middle of the city. "Then this is us." He pointed to the purple lines that branched out from the lower docks, going up the city through the sides. "That''s why you lingered at the bottom, isn''t it? To get the city guards running all the way down while we worked our way up, passing them along the way without a fight."


    Molam shrugged. "It worked."


    "I didn''t even see it until now, though I admit strategy isn''t my strong suit." The alchemist peered at Molam. "You must play dragon chess."


    "I dabble just enough to win travel funds from rich people." Molam rolled up the scroll as they came up to the Shrine. Two Priestesses stood in front of the Shrine''s doors, reticent lips pressed grimly together as they looked at their advancing group. Shurra and Lyka''s respective groups had already made it to the Shrine.


    "What took you so long?" Lyka spun her spear around her shoulder. "We all had the same amount of stops."


    "You weren''t assigned to jailhouses, so you didn''t need to tend to the people." Kalle responded for the two of them. "But it doesn''t matter. Are we splitting up now?"


    "Yes, they''re not going to wait and our side can''t afford to let up." Molam motioned, and shouted at the others to gather their attention. "Three of us will meet up with Primrose and go after Agytha. The rest of you ¡ª continue doing what we''ve been doing and follow Kalle''s lead. We''re going to do what we came to do!"


    The Dao resounded in encouragement, and Molam saw Head Priestess Cerelia beckon the two Priestesses inside the Shrine. Her amber eyes met his own briefly before the Shrine''s doors closed, and Molam appreciated her decisiveness in protecting her people.


    He made a show of handing the map in his hand to Kalle, then looked at the alchemist. "Stay alive. And ¡ª"


    "Don''t get anyone killed, I know." Kalle beckoned, and the Dao grouped around him. The alchemist clapped a hand against Molam''s shoulder. "We''re just the distraction, so make sure you focus on the more important task you have."


    "All parts are equally important here, don''t sell yourself short." Molam smiled at Kalle, then the alchemist led the rest of the Dao and melted away into the alleys again.


    Molam turned his gaze back to Shurra and Lyka, who stood expectantly.


    "To the Mansion then."


    They nodded and turned to look up towards the height of the Jadeite Cliffs. Molam started as he saw a boy stare at him from one of the windows in a nearby building. He recognized the boy as the one that had attacked him on his first day in JiangXi.


    Oho, your accomplished assailant and attempted thief.


    They exchanged gazes, and for a brief moment Molam wanted to call out to the boy. "I think his name is Bryce."


    "Are you coming, Molam?"


    Molam turned his attention back to Lyka and Shurra, who seemed impatient to head to the Mansion. He glanced back at the window, but the dying light of the Sun cast a glare over the glass and he could no longer see through it.


    He looked away. "Yes. Let''s go, but keep in mind physical reinforcement isn''t my strongest suit."


    Lyka and Shurra turned and began running up the city again with Molam staying behind them.


    ***


    At only two stories high, the City Lord''s Mansion seemed relatively humble compared to the Mansions of other City Lords. Molam guessed that its location at the highest point on the cliffs of JiangXi hindered any realistic plans for a larger construction, given that the stone would need to be brought up the cliffs. The designer had positioned polished windows here and there around the walls in fairly symmetrical patterns, and the window panes glimmered in dusk''s waning light as the Sun sank over the horizon. The final glow of the day''s light cast a deep, sunken red over the Mansion''s walls.


    "It''s unlike Primrose to be late," Shurra observed. "Do we wait?"


    "I always find that a pertinent question whenever things don''t go according to schedule." Molam glanced at the horizon as the Sun gave way to a deep blue evening.


    "That didn''t answer her question. Why are we waiting for Prim?" Lyka seemed impatient. "Only Shurra needs to go in; they''re the ones dueling. Prim can arrive later."


    "When the skyline is no longer red." There couldn''t be too much waiting. He had skipped ahead by a day to throw the city off their plans, but any delay in the tempo of his movements would give time for the city guards time to reorganize and intervene.


    Molam sat on a protruding rock, the jagged edges digging into his skin even through his layered clothes. The momentary pause in events gave him a brief lull of clarity; but with the opportunity to think came the inevitable second guessing as he ruminated on how this could go wrong.


    Had he moved too fast? No ¡ª his side kept the initiative. The citizens were holed up in preparation for Winter''s Sorrow and had no inclination to help the City Lord, so that was within his expectations. The goal hadn''t changed: secure the City Lord''s Mansion, capture Agytha.


    He hadn''t forgotten about the jade talisman, yet had made little to no progress in conclusively determining who could be the traitor. The only truth he had confirmed was that a traitor did exist; there was little explanation for the city''s changes in response to the original plan. And it was someone that had sat in on when he explained the plan; no jade talisman would be needed otherwise.


    Molam took the chance to observe his two companions as they waited with him.


    Lyka paced from side to side in her thick boots, a fur-lined hood pulled snugly over her head. She wore relatively thin gloves, pants, and a jerkin despite the cold weather, covered with just a light cloak. Perhaps it was another one of Kalle''s inventions designed to keep one warm. Lyka herself moved about and muttered under her breath while twirling her spear expertly around her wrists, her exhaled breath misting up in the air in front of her. She had already removed the leather covering the speartip, and its blade gleamed dully in the darkness.


    Shurra wore even less than Lyka did but showed no sign of discomfort, leaning against the outer wall of the City Lord''s Mansion with her arms crossed such that her right hand was in immediate reach of her short sword. Unlike Lyka and Molam, Shurra did not pull the hood of her cloak over her head and her blonde hair looked a deep pink in the Sun''s ebbing red light. While she was unmoving, her blue eyes darted about the open area in a relentless scan for enemies. But every few seconds, she would fixate her gaze upon the horizon to confirm the color of the sky before resuming her vigilant watch.


    Lyka and Shurra were the main suspects, but whether they knew they were under suspicion or not, their present actions were completely in line with their position. But that was the problem: he was walking into the City Lord''s Mansion with a potential traitor. While the City Lord''s Mansion was relatively unguarded, even if it were just the City Lord Agytha alone, it would be a horrendous situation if a perceived three on one became even. Worsening the situation was the fact that the innocent was in the dark about the whole situation given that he and Primrose had no idea how to root out the traitor without alerting them.


    Or both of them, he mused, the thought flitting into his head. The idea took root before Molam could control it and he found himself swept away in a deluge of thoughts as the scent of charred flesh and dancing shadows overwhelmed his senses. What if both of them were involved? Information was truly lacking. There could have been multiple jade talismans in the room. Who could he truly trust other than himself?


    He glanced at the two women while his heart pounded in his throat. Darkness fell and the burgeoning deep blue reminded him of how that night when the two girls next door came to find him. They had played with him just the day before and so he had followed, thinking it was a new sort of game. It had been right after dusk then too, and the villagers had been gathered. The wood had been piled high in the village center and it had been a game. It was going to be a game, the elder assured him.


    "Something we must do to secure a better future." The elder''s words echoed in his head.


    Trust had resulted in rope bound around his ankles and wrists as he burned. The flames, the flames that burned so brightly into his eyes that all he saw was darkness. It was those very flames that now ate away at his darkness whenever he closed his eyes, until all faded to ¡ª


    "Molam."


    He blinked at the musical call, then refocused his eyes as his senses snapped back in, internally berating himself for his momentary lapse. "I hope our planned liberation of this city didn''t distract you too much from your evening stroll."


    "Perhaps you could thank my evening stroll for enabling your easy sauntering into the City Lord''s Mansion." Primrose straightened up, tucking a stray strand of orange hair into the hood of Molam''s cloak, which she still wore. "Imagine dozing off in front of the City Lord''s Mansion with guards potentially flitting about."


    "A demonstration of my trust in you and your work," Molam pushed himself off the rock''s icy face and stretched to limber himself. Primrose''s arrival soothed some of his worries. He could trust the Oracle, and the Oracle had trusted Primrose. If anything, she may be the only person he could trust in the entire group. "Did you see anything worth noting as you arrived?"


    He gave her a look as he straightened up, his eyes flitting to Shurra and Lyka once he had her gaze.


    Primrose shook her head. "Only the success of our members following your plan."


    "Then there is only one last task to gain control of the city." Molam beckoned to Shurra and Lyka. "I assume the three of you understand the basics of dragon chess. Shurra will be Vanguard. Lyka follows up as the Spear."


    Shurra nodded, uncrossing her arms and drawing her sword as she stood in front of the gate. Lyka followed the Northerner, her spear balanced in the crook of her elbow.


    Positions. Now that brings back memories.


    "How quaint; assigning positions to make us feel like the First Hero and his Companions? Or is it because you''re used to playing dragon chess?" Primrose stamped her boots on the ground in an attempt to warm herself up. "Do I have a role too?"


    "You''ll be a Lord, right after Lyka."


    "Lord," Primrose huffed into her cupped hands, her cheeks rosy from the cold. "And you?"


    Molam unslung the bow from his back, twanging the string with a finger to ensure that the bow was still supple in the cold. While it had been kept close to his body to share in the warmth, he had been unsure of how well it would fare.


    "Archer." He checked his quiver of arrows, and then laid a hand on the hilt of the short sword on his waist. "Though, I''ll adjust accordingly."


    Primrose looked him up and down. "The only non-Titled piece? Aren''t you underselling yourself?"


    Molam checked his arrows, shrugging at Primrose. "A player is only allowed three Titled Pieces, and this formation needs an Archer." He didn''t say anything about how their formation would keep Primrose between himself and the other two women, giving him time to react to their movements.


    "I wouldn''t dare suggest that we''re wasting time while you two stand here strategizing," Lyka was hopping about from one leg to the next. "But if we aren''t moving anytime soon I may as well put on my cloak again before my limbs freeze up during the fight."


    "One must hunt before the snow falls," Shurra added.


    It was an old Northern Tribe proverb, but Molam found it very apt for the occasion given the time.


    "Molam." Primrose pointed urgently. They all looked up at the City Lord''s Mansion, where a brilliant fire had begun to light up the evening sky.


    "A signal fire?" Molam''s eyes narrowed, his thoughts racing. At that height, it could be seen for leagues around them. There could only be one person that City Lord Agytha was looking for now. A sense of foreboding flitted in the back of his mind, but he chased the sensation away; they''d come too far to stop now. He pulled an arrow out and kept it at ready, falling in line behind Primrose.


    "Our time is short." The irony of the situation fell upon him again as he glanced at his companions, the very people that he trusted with his life despite one of them possibly holding a jade talisman. "Let us secure a better future."


    The moment lingered as the others nodded silently, turning to face the large, ornate doors of the Mansion. Shurra tried the handles, then shook her head.


    "Do we go in quietly?" Primrose asked.


    Molam shook his head. "The time for quiet is over. Break it open, Shurra."

 Ch 18: Spear

    Rumination leads to ruination.


    Meditation leads to mediation.


    ¡ª Excerpt from Meditations, by the Red Emperor


    <hr>


    Shurra placed a palm against the door.


    For a moment, nothing happened.


    Then she gathered her breath and the door exploded inwards, splinters flying through the air as the door crashed into the stairs leading up the floors. Lyka leapt through the newly opened entrance, her spear''s naked blade twirling about as they breached the well-lit entrance. Dangerous, thought Molam. The spirit had told him no one lay behind the doors, but Lyka didn''t know that. Perhaps she was very confident?


    "At least the City Lord keeps a warm house," Lyka stalked about, her spear held at the ready. "No one''s here."


    Molam had never been inside a City Lord''s Mansion but he had been inside the tent of Mursa Khan, where wealth was power and power was to be displayed. The entranceway into the City Lord''s Mansion was decorated with little gravitas for ostentatiousness. Perhaps trophies and items of value had been removed by the servants that were now gone, but he saw no indication that items were missing from the entranceway. The only indication of wealth that he could see was the material used to build the stairs, the walls, and even the carpet that they walked upon. And of course, the heavy doors that lay splintered from their trespassing.


    He stepped up behind Primrose, who had shielded her face from the splinters with an arm. Shurra shook some splintered wood off herself and joined them in entering the Mansion.


    Aside from the silent flames that burned in the alcoves, the entrance area was devoid of guards. Molam resisted the urge to shiver as he surveyed the silent entrance. Not even a servant. Where were the people? Were they all up on the roof tending to the signal fire?


    He notched an arrow. "Lyka, Shurra." The two women looked at him. "Primrose and I will stay here. Both of you take each end of the Mansion and search. Shout if you encounter anything, but if not, come back and we''ll go up to the second floor."


    Shurra nodded and Lyka sighed, but they each pointed to opposite sides and ran swiftly through the halls. Primrose hung her ¡ª no, his ¡ª cloak on the stairs and came back to stand near him. Her presence seemed to shrink next to him as he glanced at her; he wondered when she had begun holding daggers in each hand, one in a reverse grip.


    Instead of the Lord position, you should have assigned her Assassin.


    Molam ignored the spirit, wondering if it merely didn''t understand his reasoning for keeping Primrose close to him and keeping the other two apart.


    Footsteps. Molam looked to the side to see Shurra walking back, her head shaking at his inquisitive look. He looked to the other side and saw Lyka returning as well.


    "Nothing?" He confirmed with her, and she nodded.


    "Completely empty."


    Primrose stepped onto the stairs. "Up we go?"


    "Stay in formation. We all know where the City Lord''s room is."


    The four of them fell back into their earlier formation and Shurra led the way up the stairs. The second floor led up to an inner balcony that ran along the inside of the building, with the first room facing them being the office of the City Lord.


    Shurra bounded to the top in a leap and opened the door with her sword drawn, then glanced around and shook her head. Molam flickered his eyes towards the third room to the left, then at Lyka. "Lyka, join Shurra and go to that room."


    Lyka paused. "Shouldn''t we be staying out of Shurra''s duel?"


    "Only if it''s a duel. We haven''t figured out if Agytha is alone here yet."


    The woman ran to join Shurra at the top of the stairs, the butt of her spear clattering needlessly against the railing. Primrose and Molam followed in silence, Molam''s apprehension rising as they ascended the stairs. In his mind, the steps he had taken to get here had been illuminated by information and knowledge. Yet so much beyond this point lay in darkness. Why had Agytha run JiangXi the way she did? Where was she? Why had the talisman holder not made a move yet? Was the spirit wrong, or was he simply held back by his own paranoia? The anxiety made his heartbeat thunder in his ears and his neck pulse as he walked up behind Primrose, and he tried to chase the sensation away by reasoning with himself: they had come too far for him to second-guess his decisions.


    Following behind Lyka and Shurra, they grouped outside of the room''s door. Lyka and Shurra exchanged a look, then looked to Primrose, who nodded and looked at Molam.


    Someone is in there, the spirit confirmed for Molam. Or, it paused. Something? It is a faint presence.


    Molam gave Shurra a nod and she placed a palm against the door, her sword drawn and ready. The next moment, she seemed to gather her strength and the door exploded inwards once again, blowing straight off its hinges.


    And then the torrent of water gushed out of the doorway, carrying the splintered door with it as the deluge slammed into Shurra, pushing her back against and flipping her over the railing. With a savage roar, Shurra reached and grasped the railing with a hand, clinging on and refusing to be pushed away even as Primrose and Molam retreated swiftly from the surge of water. Molam saw Lyka also back away from the flooding barrage across the other side of the water. The water itself surged through the openings of the railings, rushing down to the first floor but pooling near the entrance to the City Lord''s room. Within seconds, the outpour stopped, leaving a sputtering and drenched Shurra clambering over the railings to get back onto the balcony.


    They had no time to react as the figure leapt out through the doorway, crashing into Shurra and breaking the railing. The force of the strike sent the two falling down to the first floor. The water had given away her identity and Molam caught a glimpse of the City Lord Agytha then, or what he could see given the water that surrounded her figure.


    "Shurra!" Primrose rushed towards the railing to look down at the two.


    Molam made to follow, but the spirit''s voice rang in his head with urgency.


    The Spear!


    Lyka''s speartip came into his vision before he could finish reacting, his arm raising to block the strike with his armguard. The spear glanced off with a loud clang, the blow knocking him back several paces and causing his entire arm to go numb as he fumbled with his bow to notch an arrow. Lyka had not lied about being a master of physical reinforcement. Based on the prickling sensation in his arm, a frontal-block would have cost him the arm.


    "Primrose!" he warned as Lyka advanced swiftly, trying to slip past Primrose during her distraction. Primrose turned, a flash of glittering blades swiping at the air; Lyka had already advanced past her, running at Molam as he forced his numb arm straight and pulled an arrow.


    He loosed the arrow at her head just as Lyka sprinted forward, timing it with her next step, but Lyka dropped to her knee and slid across the water pooling on the carpet, sliding right under the projectile. With fluid grace, the woman used the butt of her spear to push herself back up to her feet and bore down on Molam with the speartip.


    "Stop."


    Primrose''s voice sang out, and Lyka''s entire body hesitated, giving Molam time to scramble backwards for distance between himself and Lyka. But the moment passed as Lyka shrugged it off with a shake of her head, gripping her spear with both hands into a full charge.


    Molam abandoned his bow and reached for his sword with his non-numb hand, his ears picking up sounds of the clash on the floor below them as the entire building trembled. Lyka gave him no time to draw the blade from its sheath ¡ª he pulled the entire thing to his front and blocked Lyka''s spear thrust with the flat of the scabbard, the full weight of her body behind the attack.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    The building flipped ¡ª no, the blow sent him flying backwards from the sheer force of Lyka''s spear. In the brief moment of disorientation he vaguely registered Primrose''s musical commands, sung with an uncharacteristic sense of urgency before his back exploded with pain as he crashed into the wall.


    Molam collapsed onto his knees, trying to summon the will to assume a defensive stance through the haze of pain demanding his body lie down and let the darkness claim him. His vision blurred and threatened to fade; he bit down hard on his lip until he drew blood, trying to stave off the numbing desire to keel over. The pain seared an angry hot red throughout his back and for a moment the memories of that bonfire surged. He fought the urge to check his back with his hands, the threat of Lyka''s follow-up strike keen on his mind.


    Gritting his teeth at the pain, he looked up with his flickering vision just in time to roll to the side at Lyka''s next sluggish stab. Primrose materialized behind Lyka, who carried her thrust forward to avoid the daggers that swiped where her neck had been, bounding forward to bounce off the wall and leap over Primrose, the speartip flashing for Primrose''s head. Primrose''s arm flicked upwards with a glimmer and Lyka''s stance responded immediately, parrying the flying dagger that had aimed for her neck before completing her somersault through the air and landing on her feet.


    "Molam, stand up." Primrose had planted herself in front of him, pulling another dagger from within the folds of her clothes and taking a defensive stance. Through the pain, he found himself ironically wishing Primrose''s Charm would work on him whilst his body refused to obey anything but the pain.


    "A moment." Or at least, that''s what he thought he grunted through clenched teeth, putting a hand on his armguard and twisting it in a silent plea. A new wave of excruciating pain almost made him lose consciousness and collapse upon his elbows. It took all of his willpower to keep himself propped up.


    The feather wrapped around his wrist flared and he felt the stinging sensation on his back itch. Be less reliant on my healing.


    Molam tried to come up with words but the painful itching resulted in just another gasp of air. All he could do was try to not move as he begged with his body to ignore the pain that gnawed away at his thoughts. Through the haze, his ears picked up the dull words spoken between Primrose and Lyka.


    "What are you doing, Lyka?" Primrose''s voice brimmed with fury. "Why did you attack Molam?"


    "We don''t have to do this, Prim. You and I can turn this around, you can come with me to Oasis and I will speak to the Lord of Sands for you. This can still be salvaged. "


    "Salvaged?" Primrose repeated coldly. "Lyka, why did you betray us?"


    "Betrayal implies I was with the group the entire time." Lyka''s face contorted visibly as her jaw clenched. "Please don''t. Even if the effects are muted, all I hear when you use your Charm is my father''s voice. You know that."


    "You helped me gather the members of the Dao. When Molam said there might be a traitor, I didn''t want it to be you. We''ve been together for so long - we shared a dream of a better tomorrow!" Primrose''s voice cracked. "Why?"


    Molam pushed himself onto his knees to see Lyka shaking her head. "The Dao. Gods, I hate that name. ''The Way''? But this isn''t the way, Prim, the Oracle has you fooled. She has the world fooled. The Lord of Sands suffered with the Frozen Saint because of the Oracle, and now you want the people to suffer again?" Lyka pointed her spear at Molam. "He''s going to be the Oracle''s tool to interfere with the world and the Bloody Prince will answer with violence, you know that! We can''t allow that to happen again. He''s the only one that needs to die, and the Lord of Sands can See for himself that you aren''t wearing the color of the Oracle''s approval. I''ll vouch for you and we can be honest in front of the Lord." Lyka edged forward, a sliding half-step. "Stand aside, Prim."


    "You''ve lost your mind, Lyka." A hint of desperation replaced the previous tone of pleading in Primrose''s voice. "Stand up, Molam."


    Molam placed a hand on a knee and pushed himself to his feet. The pain in his back throbbed still, but he could not afford to look weak right now. He glanced at Lyka as the itching in his back faded, the memory of each of the group''s leaders and their interactions in his head. Shurra''s neutral manner, Kalle''s positivity, and Lyka''s abundance of caution. "I wondered how things hadn''t gotten out of hand after three years of Agytha''s tyranny. You were working with Agytha to keep the organization in check, weren''t you?"


    "Very good." Lyka''s face hardened. "I regret not killing you when Kalle first brought you in. It would have been significantly less of a hassle than the problem you are now."


    "Don''t blame yourself. I''ve been careful about revealing my status." Molam darted his eyes around for his sword or bow; both lay on the ground next to Primrose''s feet. "What does Oasis stand to gain from allying with the Empire?" Molam kept his breathing shallow, doing his best to keep Lyka talking. "Is the Lord of Sands so keen on relinquishing his position to the Bloody Prince?"


    "You understand nothing about our struggles in the Endless Sands." Lyka''s stance changed, a shift of her feet and the speartip pointing downwards to the side. "Even if I can''t stop the city''s situation, I can still kill you and save us all from another of the Oracle''s¡ª"


    The floor between them exploded upwards in a burst of wood, stone, and water, obscuring Lyka from their view. Shurra and Agytha blew through the newly demolished opening in the floor; Agytha, encased in a cocoon of water, slammed into the ceiling in a deluge of water as Shurra landed on the floor closer to Primrose and Molam. Shurra''s sword gleamed as she pulled an arm back and threw her sword straight at Agytha, whose water shifted her to the side in time to dodge the thrown blade that buried itself into the ceiling.


    "Shurra!" Primrose caught the Northern Warrior''s attention. "Lyka has turned on us! They''re working together!"


    Shurra''s entire body seemed drenched in water, her sodden clothes clung tightly around her frame as she ran a hand down her face and shook off the droplets. Molam shivered just thinking of the cold she must be experiencing, but the woman seemed to pay it no mind as she gave Primrose a curt nod before bounding across the splintered balcony, leaping high enough to yank her sword out of the ceiling before she landed near Lyka.


    "Interfere and I''ll kill you first," Shurra said to Lyka as she ran past in chase of Agytha.


    Lyka didn''t respond, allowing the woman to rush past her without a word as she kept her eyes closely fixed on Primrose and Molam. It wasn''t until the thunderous thudding of the fight renewed that Lyka spoke again. "Northern Savages. Just like the Frozen Saint; always so eager to fight. But then, violence is all they have to prove, isn''t it?"


    It irked Molam that Lyka would use that insult for Northerners. He had spent almost a year in Hjornheim and could only not understand the Oasian distaste for tribal culture. "Sand Dwellers. Always scheming for that which they can''t keep." Molam responded in kind, harkening back to the Northern distaste for the Shield and Spear of Oasis, who had abandoned the Northern Tribes'' maneuver to control Crescent City in favor of Kamisukawa during the Frost Saint''s rebellion. "You say you want to stop war, but did history not tell you what the Bloody Prince''s actions resulted in? Have you forgotten the War of Crowns? The Frost Saint''s Rebellion?"


    "Have you not learned anything from their failures? Have you not seen what problems come about from the Oracle''s machinations?" Lyka''s tone grew angry. "Then again, how could you, Oracle''s vessel? Perhaps you were happy to be chosen. So happy to see a mirage you choose to wade through quicksand." She shook her head. "Visionaries like the Lord of Sands focus on the direction the sand is falling; how do you think the Lord of Sands survived the War of Crowns? Techoria cannot stop the Bloody Prince, and once he obtains the SunFlower¡­" Lyka switched her stance again, a subtle shifting of her legs and grip on her spear. "No one can."


    "And you think the Bloody Prince will just let Oasis stay Free?" Primrose walked up to the edge of the hole in the balcony. "This is folly, Lyka. Forget Kamisukawa; have you forgotten the destruction of Teljumaya as well? He''s taking his time, but he''s taking the Free Cities! It will never end so long as the Bloody Prince breathes! Not even Oasis will be spared!" She gestured backwards to Molam even as she slid his sword and bow to him. "Lyka, come to your senses! Without the Oracle''s help, we have no chance!"


    "We never had a chance!" Lyka shouted. "You''ve never fought him. I''ve never fought him. But the Lord of Sands has! Why do you think we hide away in the Endless Sands? The Bloody Prince can have his feud with the Oracle and the Leviathan ¡ª all we need to do is survive and not get in the way!"


    "''Living'' and ''not dying'' are different, Lyka." Primrose whispered. "Eternally in fear? How would this be any different than the Endless Night?"


    "But we live! You think the Lord of Sands enjoys his exile?!" Lyka''s voice softened with pleading. "Prim. Please listen. Oasis is too far for the Bloody Prince to care about in his feud to open the Stairs. All we need to do is stop this madness before it begins. Then you and I can live in the upper levels of Oasis under the Lord''s protection."


    "Until the Bloody Prince destroys your home too! How can you be so unaware? Others have traveled down that path and we know where it leads!"


    Lyka closed her eyes and Molam saw a tear run down her face before she wiped it away with the back of her hand. "I see you cannot be convinced otherwise." Her grip on her spear seemed to slack, then the Sand Spear opened her eyes with grim resolve as she walked to the edge of the hole. "I genuinely wanted to grow flowers with you, Prim." The Sand Spear threw a look at Molam, who notched an arrow on instinct. "But duty above all."


    "Very few flowers grow in sand." Primrose''s voice cracked again as she took a defensive stance, her daggers held at the ready. "And my name is Primrose. Don''t do this, Lyka. Even with your spear''s reach, you can''t possibly jump over here and dodge me in midair while I guard this edge."


    "Primrose then." Giving a regretful smile, Lyka looked down at the ground and shook her head. "This reminds me of that time we met, huh, Primrose?"


    The Sand Spear pulled her arm back and launched her spear. Primrose leapt back, the spear impaling into the ground where her legs had been and by the time she looked up, Lyka had already leapt past the hole, her hand enclosing the shaft of her spear.


    Molam drew back the arrow and fired.

 Ch 19: Voice

    The brave fool will accomplish so much more than the doubtful sage.


    ¡ª Meditations, by the Red Emperor


    <hr>


    Lyka knocked the arrow out of the air with the butt of her spear before bearing down on Primrose, who had tried to sneak in under Lyka''s guard in the middle of her maneuver.


    "Stop." Primrose''s voice rang, an almost irresistible call to Molam as he desperately looked for another opening to shoot Lyka without hitting Primrose. The command did not so much freeze Lyka as make her downward strike sluggish; Primrose rushed right past the speartip towards Lyka, who flipped backwards to avoid the kick aimed at her throat.


    Lyka didn''t wait for Primrose to finish her backwards flip, her speartip flashing upwards before Primrose shouted another command. "Retreat."


    The sudden forced backstep surprised even Lyka, whose extended spear just missed Primrose''s lower back before Lyka''s unnatural extension of her body forced her to lose her footing on the wet carpet. Molam hesitated, seeing his chance but unable to coordinate with Primrose''s agility as the two women recovered their footing and their weapons clashed again.


    Though Molam had asked both of them their fighting styles in preparation for the formation, he found himself unprepared for the sheer ferocity unfolding. Primrose''s brief description of being a short-ranged fighter did not capture the sheer beauty of her flashing blades in the brightly lit Mansion. She whirled, orange hair, purple silk, and blue flowers that flashed silver steel in the face of Lyka''s fluid spear movements that extended and struck without pause. The Sand Spear stood her ground, her arms a blur as the speartip slashed, stabbed and sliced in equal measure but seemed to only strike at air.


    "Stop." Primrose''s voice rang out anytime before Lyka threatened to land a blow. The momentary jerk in Lyka''s movement was almost imperceptible to the casual observer, but enough for Primrose to parry or adjust her movement to avoid injury.


    Primrose''s shifting whirl of burnt-orange and light blue obscured her actual body from Lyka''s measured strikes. The Sand Spear dodged and retreated, parrying strikes that could not be predicted and found herself unable to gain ground but unwilling to yield it either. In mere moments, the two women exchanged a flurry of blows and parries leaving Molam in awe before his lungs reminded him that, at some point, he had forgotten to breathe. And though it was evident that Lyka was not going to be swayed by Primrose''s Charm, it seemed Primrose had also recognized Lyka was not completely immune.


    "Backstep."


    Primrose''s new command came as a surprise for even Molam. Lyka took a step backwards at the force of the command; even Molam felt the urge to take a step back of his own. The new command had clearly surprised Lyka, whose balance was thrown off in the midst of another forward strike. The spearwoman''s forward step hesitated and Primrose immediately stepped in within the spear''s range, a thrown dagger flying towards Lyka''s foot and another slicing towards Lyka''s neck. For a brief moment it looked as though Lyka was forced to be hobbled in exchange for parrying Primrose''s attack, but Lyka bent backwards following her backstep and used the momentum to dodge away from both strikes, astounding Molam with her agility.


    Are you just going to watch or are you going to do something?


    Molam shook himself from his reverie and took off running in the other direction towards the other side of the Mansion. Lyka''s vigilance about angling herself behind Primrose put one doubt to rest: Lyka could be pierced by arrows.


    He ran down the gallery, the clash of dagger and spear intermixed with Primrose''s commands reverberating behind him as he dashed to the other side, looking for a clearer angle to aim at Lyka. He could only hope and pray that his repositioning was fast enough that he didn''t leave Primrose vulnerable against Lyka''s drastically greater reach with the spear.


    The far side of the building''s wall crumpled as he ran, the stone collapsing in a small avalanche of dust, rock, and stone. Shurra''s fight with Agytha threatened to destroy the entire building. The scholars of the Fallen Star Pavilion had reasoned that it took the Red Emperor a century to conquer the Northern Tribes due to their mastery of physical reinforcement, but it was a completely different experience to witness it for himself.


    As Molam cleared the angle, a rush of water gushed into the lower floor and he heard a dull thud followed by a pillar crumbling into dust. Shurra emerged from the rubble, shaking off water like a large animal and launched herself towards the water''s source. Molam looked away, trusting Shurra to keep the City Lord occupied while he and Primrose dealt with Lyka.


    He could see Lyka clearly now, making full advantage of her spear''s reach against Primrose. Primrose''s twin blades caught Lyka''s speartip whenever it got too close. Lyka''s balance shifted without end, having adjusted herself to Primrose''s commands, and even Molam could see that Primrose had no hope to close the distance necessary to get in range with her daggers. A momentary lull in their exchange had Primrose standing still enough for Molam to see several bleeding cuts on her arms and one on her neck.


    The visual reminder spurred him to draw an arrow as the two women resumed their clash; then the muscles on his back clenched in agony and the pain almost caused him to drop the bow. The arrow dropped from his fingers and clattered onto the floor as he bit his lip and tried to not pass out. Whatever the spirit had done wasn''t enough, probably limiting the aura it used to only ensuring that he wouldn''t die.


    But he pushed through the pain, blinking away the tears and looking for the arrow that he had dropped. If Primrose died, Lyka would kill him next; and if he ran now without the Dao he could never go home.


    Gritting his teeth, he notched the arrow and aimed for Lyka. He breathed in deeply, preparing himself for the impending pain before he pulled and loosed, the string snapping back in place as the arrow went for Lyka''s head. He collapsed forward at the pain, holding himself against the railing as he looked at the shot.


    "Stop." Primrose''s voice commanded just as the arrow shot out, and Lyka froze in place. At the last moment, the woman twisted her neck and the arrow whizzed by, thudding into the wall.


    Molam made his decision then, twisting his armguard.


    "Heal me fully."


    If we do not preserve the aura ¡ª


    "Heal me, damnit! Unless you''re able to bring me back from the dead too."


    His back itched even more as he tried to wipe away his tears, watching helplessly at the deadly exchange between the two women. Lyka utilized the rampart''s narrowness, her spear''s reach carefully calculated to keep Primrose just out of reach. Primrose retreated from Lyka, unable to contend with the deadly speartip darting throughout the air aiming for a lethal blow.


    It is done.


    Molam wasted no time in readying another arrow, notching it against the bowstring and preparing to shoot as he saw Primrose gain footing against Lyka, who made to block Primrose''s blades with the shaft of her spear. He pulled and loosed the arrow at that moment. Lyka''s hands left her spear, a hand reaching for the arrow, the other catching Primrose''s downward stab and redirecting the wrist towards Primrose''s other hand. In response, Primrose rotated her body along her downward stab motion, spinning around and bringing her free arm up for a backwards stab. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    "Stop."


    Lyka did not freeze, but slowed. Her palm struck upwards, connecting with Primrose''s elbow and preventing her from completing the strike. The arrow slipped through Lyka''s hand, cutting her ear before it thudded into the wall and the spear hit the ground. The two women made for the spear, Lyka stretching her hand and Primrose dropping down to sweep at it with her leg. Seeing Lyka move faster, Primrose flicked her right hand''s dagger straight up at Lyka''s throat, causing the spear user to jerk backwards erratically to avoid the weapon. The dagger spun in midair, obscuring Lyka''s vision and Primrose took that chance to change her leg sweep into a kick in Lyka''s stomach.


    Lyka crumpled backwards onto one knee. Primrose didn''t hesitate, flicking another dagger into the air and pulling the arrow out of the wall before shoving both the arrow and her remaining dagger at Lyka''s throat.


    Lyka''s hands caught both of Primrose''s wrists, and Molam had a third arrow notched.


    "Stop."


    Primrose''s voice no longer rang out as it had. Lyka twisted Primrose''s arms downwards and Primrose pushed to the side, forcing Lyka''s head to the side. A dagger fell blade down ¡ª the one she had flicked up earlier ¡ª it pierced Lyka''s shoulder. Molam fired as Lyka looked at the dagger in her shoulder, the surprise keeping her in place just long enough for the arrow to pierce Lyka''s head. Her body jerked to the side, hitting the wall and sliding downwards. Molam already had another arrow notched, the blood rushing in his ears and throat as Primrose had also fallen to a knee, leaning against the railing. Was it over? Would Primrose have stopped if Lyka was still alive?


    Primrose''s head drooped, and she slid down against the railing until she was in a sitting position.


    "Primrose!" Molam did not bother slinging his bow over his shoulders as he retraced his route to reach her, worried about the result of Agytha and Shurra''s fight.


    But Primrose didn''t move. For an urgent moment he thought she had suffered a lethal blow of her own, but then he took a stuttered breath to collect his thoughts. He prioritized running towards her, unwilling to let his thoughts get in the way.


    The building shuddered once again as he reached the stairs. Molam looked up just in time to see the ceiling cave in as a ball of water smashed through the roof, a crashing torrent rushing onto the top of the stairs and running down the steps. Bits and pieces of burning wood also came crashing down, evidence of the signal fire they saw earlier at the top of the building.


    When the water cleared, Molam saw that Shurra had Agytha pinned against the floor by the neck with her sword stabbing into the City Lord''s shoulder. The City Lord''s hand was equally gripped around Shurra''s neck, a dome of water covering Shurra''s face and a short sword buried into Shurra''s thigh. In the water illuminated by the firelight, Shurra''s hair floated about her face in ghostly wisps as the two suffocated each other.


    Molam readied his bow again with haste but saw the dome of water begin to slide down Shurra''s frame, falling onto Agytha. Soon, Shurra''s blonde hair was plastered against her head, the water clinging unnaturally to her frame like a second skin as she gasped and inhaled deeply, pulling Agytha''s hand away from her neck.


    Molam lowered his bow, running towards them on his way to get to Primrose, pausing only when Shurra turned her head to look at him, the flames of battle still in her eyes.


    "Restrain Agytha and get back to the first floor, Shurra. I''ll get Primrose." Molam stepped past Shurra gingerly, then turned. "We need to keep Agytha alive, Shurra. Lyka is dead and Agytha has information. Do you understand?"


    Shurra blinked away the water that still clung to her eyes. Molam wasn''t sure if the water had gotten into her ears either, but the Northerner nodded. He looked down to confirm the City Lord''s lack of consciousness before leaving it to Shurra, Primrose''s unknown condition still weighing on his mind.


    Molam rushed over the gallery to Primrose''s side, passing by the deep scores and gouges in the walls and floor that were the evidence of the battle they had just fought. Primrose was settled with her back against the wall next to Lyka''s body. Blood dripped everywhere and for a moment he feared the worst, but her arm lifted with a raised dagger as he approached.


    "It''s me, Primrose," Molam slowed in his approach as he came up to her. "You¡ª we won."


    The orange hair shook as Primrose''s eyes looked past her bangs at him, her eyes red and full of tears.


    "Agytha?" She croaked.


    "Shurra won too. We''ve captured her. You need to¡ª"


    The raised arm fell down, the dagger falling from loose fingers. Molam ran forward, fear flooding his veins, dropping to his knees to check on Primrose. Her eyes looked at him.


    "Poison." She whispered, a shaky finger pointing at Lyka. "Lyka likes to tip her spear with drowsiflora."


    Molam relaxed just a bit at the name. Drowsiflora grew in the Endless Sands and though the poison was not lethal, it made one''s body sluggish and unable to channel aura. He stepped around Primrose and went to Lyka''s body, forcing himself to look at what he had done in order to check if Lyka carried an antidote on her. As he approached and saw the arrow lodged into her head, the bile threatened to rise from his stomach.


    Blood pooled all over the ground around Lyka''s body and Molam forced himself to get to his task. He bent down and flipped Lyka around, glancing away in distaste as he avoided looking at Lyka''s lifeless eyes while he searched her clothes. The dead Sand Spear''s open eyes stared at him accusingly, her slightly ajar mouth giving off a ghastly impression of being mildly surprised. But as Molam searched, he only found all of Lyka''s pockets devoid of anything important, though he did find the jade talisman. Dark green and carved in the shape of a triangle, Molam recognized the faint golden etchings on its surface as similar to the ones Kalle carved into his warming stones before he pocketed it.


    Molam straightened up and looked away, returning to Primrose. "No antidote ¡ª let''s get down to the first floor and wait for Kalle, he might have some ideas. Drowsiflora isn''t deadly, right?"


    She nodded weakly, and Molam pressed his lips together, trying to understand what he could do for her. The time they had spent together was short, but even he could see how close Primrose and Lyka had been. Whether it was the effects of the drowsiflora or the shock, it pained him to see Primrose, normally so self-assured and full of life, become listless and so disinterested.


    "Do you need to lean on me?"


    Her head drooped, but she nodded. He hoisted her arm over his neck and helped her stand up.


    As he helped Primrose limp back to the stairs, he couldn''t help but regret not closing Lyka''s eyes. It seemed as though the lifeless gaze stared at him from behind as they walked away; his breathing became shallow when he remembered that he had been the one that struck the killing blow.


    Primrose''s legs dragged under her. He adjusted her balance against him so he could better support her on the way down, but his actions weighed heavier on him than anything else. His mind raced with what he could have done to alter the outcome for the better. The fact that he dragged it out and could not differentiate between Lyka and Shurra before Lyka''s betrayal had been a critical mistake. If he had more time, he could have dug into Lyka and Agytha''s past and looked for the problems.


    Yes, he could console himself that it ended well. Lyka had been a traitor and she was dead; they had lost nothing there. Shurra had beaten Agytha and they had captured her. So long as Kalle stuck to the plan and the city guards had no reason to turn to abject violence, the city was theirs. He would accomplish all he set out to do and more, then be able to go home.


    They were just temporary pieces he was moving to accomplish the real reason he was here, weren''t they? The implicit rule between all humans. If he thought about it, once he secured the city''s elderwood, he no longer needed them. A more morbid thought: if Primrose had met her end at Lyka''s hands, Shurra was hardly interested in assuming control. The leadership of the Dao would naturally fall into his hands. He could leave Primrose now, go down and tell Shurra that Primrose had ¡ª


    "Are you¡­ hurt?" Primrose murmured. Sheer exhaustion dragged her normally melodic voice.


    With a start, Molam realized he had stopped walking. She was the injured one, yet she bothered to ask after him?


    "Not as much as you are. We''ll get you to Kalle soon."


    "Thank¡­ you." She limped along with him, her arm bracing her weight and he tried to keep her hair out of his face, the scent of satem flowers flooding his nose. "For¡­ Lyka."


    "What?"


    But Primrose was looking at the ground, her voice cracking. "I couldn''t¡­ do it."


    The memory of her final struggle with Lyka flashed in his mind. The dagger. Primrose had set up her final gamble with that dagger, and she could have pulled Lyka''s head into the dagger''s fall. But she had jerked Lyka to the side instead.


    He opened his mouth but words failed him. He wanted to blame Primrose for not knowing, to shout at her for trusting Lyka, to let her fall down and ask her who else could possibly be a traitor. The blood rushed to his head and he exhaled until his lungs could push out nothing more and he inhaled the chilly air in the Mansion.


    "It wasn''t your burden to carry."


    Primrose relaxed against him at the words, but Molam''s mind echoed with the words he heard a long time ago. Only those that faced the hardest choices know the brittleness of morality.


    For a moment, Lyka''s lifeless gaze wasn''t the only one staring at his back. The other gaze belonged to a boy that had promised himself he would do better. The guilt flooded his veins, and all he could do was hate himself.

 Ch 20: Chill

    True seekers of knowledge do not decide what is found, only what to do with it.


    ¡ª Excerpt from Meditations, by the Red Emperor


    <hr>


    Though Molam hadn''t seen much of Shurra''s fight with Agytha, the freshly ruined state of the Mansion spoke volumes of the confrontation between two auramasters. Now that an entire section of wall had fallen down and part of the roof had caved in, the frigid chill spread freely inside the Mansion and the flames flickered in the wind. The water that flooded the first floor had trickled away, but the carpet was waterlogged and showing signs of frosting over.


    Molam found Shurra waiting for him at the bottom of the steps, with Agytha bound nearby in rope. Shurra''s bleeding thigh had been staunched with a tightly bound strip of cloth and she was somehow standing. Even more impressively, she seemed to pay no mind to her clothes soaking in the freezing air.


    "Lyka is dead. The situation has changed," Molam huffed to Shurra as he helped set Primrose down at the foot of the stairs, pulling down his cloak from the side to cover Primrose. "Oasis is working with the Empire."


    Shurra''s face darkened. "Never trust a Sand Dweller. They said the Lord of Sands also betrayed the Frozen Saint."


    Molam shook his head. He had wondered why the two had not acted on their inherited grudge between the Northerners and Oasians, but it turned out they had only been amicable on the surface. "There must be a reason. Oasis was one of the first breakaway territories during the Fracturing. It wouldn''t make sense for the Lord of Sands to forget. Put aside your historical differences and ¡ª"


    "Hush." Shurra put a finger to her lips and put her hand on her sword. The two of them listened intently, eyes locked on the crumbled wall where the Mansion''s entranceway had been. Shouting echoed from below, and Molam saw the flickering glow of torchlights.


    Molam unslung his bow and pulled out an arrow. With four left in the quiver, he could only hope that if it was city guards coming, none of them were on Lyka''s caliber.


    The small crowd came into view, brandishing torches and makeshift weapons.


    "Primrose! Shurra!" Molam kept the arrow notched and ready, but Shurra visibly relaxed upon seeing the members of the Dao. They gingerly stepped into the building, looking about in awe at the destruction that had been wrought about it. At first, Molam wondered why many of them seemed to be clothed lightly for the chill, then realized they had probably shared their clothes with the jailed members they had freed.


    A collective hush fell across the crowd as they saw Shurra''s bleeding wounds and Primrose''s clothes matted with blood. Then the questions poured in. "What happened? Is Primrose going to die? What do we do now? Are we a Free City yet?"


    "Molam!" Kalle pushed through the crowd, a torch held high. "Primrose. Is she¡­?"


    "She''s alive," Molam mustered at Kalle over the noise of the group as Kalle rushed to Primrose''s side. Several of the people made threatening advancements to Agytha''s prone body, but Shurra stepped over the prisoner and folded her arms.


    "Kalle." Primrose greeted weakly.


    "What happened?" The alchemist knelt down next to Primrose, pulling off a glove and gingerly placing two fingers on her wrist.


    Molam kept his voice low as he slung the bow over his shoulder again, coming up close to Kalle as the alchemist checked on Primrose''s status. "I think she''s poisoned by drowsiflora, but we''re unsure." Molam knelt down next to Kalle and whispered. "From Lyka''s spear."


    Kalle raised an eyebrow. Grateful relief washed over Molam when the alchemist had the presence of mind to not react with alarm. After a short pause, Kalle closed his eyes and then said, "You fought Lyka?"


    "Hush. It''s complicated. And keep it to yourself for now." Molam grimaced, shaking his head at the alchemist''s inquiring stare in a silent promise of later. "Can you check Primrose and Shurra first?"


    "Your pulse is weak," Kalle told Primrose, placing the back of his hand against her forehead. "And you''ve lost a lot of blood, though all of them seem to be shallow cuts. Drowsiflora only affects the aura and mind so you aren''t in any danger, but it''ll be a few days before you don''t feel sluggish." He looked at Molam. "I''ll need to see the weapon."


    Molam nodded. "The city?" Primrose coughed.


    "The plan worked well enough. Many of the guards couldn''t fight. The guards that could fight were strong, but Molam''s plan worked out as members were released and the guards succumbed to sheer numbers. They were unprepared, as expected." Kalle produced a bottle from within his clothes, handing it to Shurra. "Put this on Primrose''s wounds. All of them. We can''t allow them to fester. And get some on your leg too. Pretending it doesn''t hurt won''t keep you alive if it rots."


    Kalle tore off his cloak and held it around the two while Shurra tended to the injured Primrose. Molam took the chance to organize the rest of the Dao. "We need to salvage what we can, especially any information about what Agytha was holding. Don''t worry, we searched the rooms for enemies before the engagement and the mansion should be empty now. The ceiling is partly destroyed and IceMourne will soon bring Winter''s Sorrow, but that means we need to be fast. We can''t let the snow ruin anything we can still salvage."


    As if summoned by his words, a gust of wind blew through the opening left in the wall and spiraled up through the ceiling. All of them instinctively hunched to minimize the cold.


    Molam waited for the gust to pass, blinking his eyes as several torches on the second floor extinguished before he straightened again to continue. "If the divine snow blankets the inside of the Mansion, we might be forced to wait for Spring''s Blessings to arrive. We''ll need to take this chance to collect everything we can and learn about what state JiangXi is in."


    Kalle nodded. "RainBringer always starts Spring''s Blessings with a divine storm."


    "Exactly. Now is the time. Everyone, spread out and collect as much as you can. The Mansion needs to be rebuilt, so we''ll empty it now."


    Kalle shouted into the crowd for the group to spread out and search the City Lord''s Mansion for anything useful. Molam was content with letting Kalle do the directing, for the fatigue was starting to set in. But he didn''t complain. He hadn''t been the one to fight directly the way Shurra and Primrose had.


    "The city guards have all been corralled into the jails?" he inquired, sitting down on the steps himself as soon as most of the Dao had dispersed to search the rooms.


    "Yes, I helped direct that but thanks to your outlines, everyone here followed the plan. More or less." Kalle returned to inspect Shurra''s wound. "The storehouses are being raided as we speak. Agytha defies all expectations. She''s been storing all the wood ¡ª for what, only the Gods may know, but still, what with the price that''s being put on it right now, you''d think the city would have done something about it."


    The alchemist glanced at the bound Agytha, then turned his gaze back to Shurra. "Well, congratulations are certainly in order considering you won your battle against Agytha!" He pointed to Shurra''s leg. "I''ve an ointment that you can apply to prevent this from scarring."


    "No," Shurra took a stiff step backwards. "It will be a wonderful tattoo."


    "Understandable. Now, that''s three of you accounted for. Where''s Lyka?" Kalle peered up the stairs hopefully, as though Lyka was just sitting at the top. "I know you fought, but that was probably over something else right? I understand people can let their emotions get to them when holding weapons."


    "Kalle." Molam began, then hesitated. "Lyka¡­ was working with Agytha. Oasis has allied with the Empire in secret." He couldn''t think of a good reason to hide it from Kalle. "When Shurra fought with Agytha, Lyka attacked Primrose and me. We fought her off and we¡­" he corrected himself, "I killed her."


    The words felt hollow, echoing in his mind as though someone else spoke for him even as his mouth moved. Kalle seemed to not know how to react, and instead looked at Primrose and Shurra, who both nodded.


    "I¡­ see." Kalle made to run his hand through his beard, seemed to think about it, then put on his gloves instead, looking down. "Anything else I should know?"


    Molam showed Kalle the jade talisman. "Lyka was using this to avoid Primrose''s detection, but these are rare. I know Oasis produces them, but given how expensive they are I doubt the Lord of Sands would just hand them out. In fact¡­" He knelt down and searched Agytha''s body quickly before pulling off another jade talisman attached to Agytha''s belt. He unpinned it and handed the second one to Kalle. "Two. They were prepared for Primrose."


    "We''ll evaluate all of this later." Everyone''s breathing was starting to mist in the gathering moonlight shining through the hole in the ceiling. The wind at the top of the cliffs had long dispersed whatever lingering warmth the building still had. "Primrose and Shurra are injured and they shouldn''t stay here."


    Molam considered, then nodded. "Primrose and Shurra can be moved to your workshop to recuperate. The rest will search the Mansion throughout the night for anything of value, including information about what Oasis and the Empire were colluding on."


    Several of the members came forward bearing two makeshift stretchers.


    Shurra refused a stretcher. "I''ve been cut, not maimed," she pushed away the people. "I can walk downhill just fine."


    Primrose''s face seemed strained as she struggled with two women trying to help pick her up. "No, let me ¡ª I said, let me. Just put it down."


    The stretcher was laid down at her side and Primrose''s blue eyes glared reproachfully before shrugging off Molam''s cloak and handing it to a nearby woman. She then shifted herself from the steps and rolled onto the stretcher. The woman then carefully laid the cloak over Primrose, tucking the edges under her body to ensure she would stay warm during the trek downwards.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    "Use the other stretcher for Agytha." Molam walked forward to help roll Agytha onto the stretcher meant for Shurra. "We''re going to keep her alive for information."


    He leaned down to help carry Agytha onto the stretcher, then retreated with a start. Agytha''s golden-colored eyes were open and looking at him ¡ª she had woken up.


    "So. You''re Molam. The factor we didn''t expect." Agytha''s voice was hoarse, a possible aftereffect of Shurra''s choking her unconscious. Her body shivered all over, and the water drenching her clothes was starting to freeze over. Perhaps she had expended all of her aura and was unable to control the water''s temperature in her current state. "The Oracle''s chosen is younger than I expected."


    Molam knelt down next to her, trying to determine what to say. To interrogate her now? He knew little about her aside from what he had been told. The wind roamed into the building freely now, picking up speed and bringing with it a numbing cold.


    "City Lord Agytha," he began formally, unsure of the correct way to proceed. "We, the Dao, have freed JiangXi and you are to be taken prisoner." Yes, that seemed appropriate. A vocal reminder to those in the vicinity. "If you don''t resist, you will be given treatment according to your station with ¡ª"


    "Did you take the city?" Agytha coughed.


    He paused. "Yes."


    She closed her eyes. "I have nothing to say to you."


    Molam clenched his fist, telling himself that he shouldn''t get into this any further. All he wanted to do was go home. None of this mattered.


    A man approached. "Primrose. Shurra. Kalle." Another gust of ice-cold wind blew into the building, causing all of them to cover themselves and shiver before the man gave a cautious greeting to Molam. "Molam. We''re still looking around, but it looks like the City Lord burned most of the documents in her office."


    Molam threw Agytha a look, but her eyes were firmly closed. He looked at Kalle. "That explains why she stayed."


    "We''ve rescued a few that survived." The man offered up several sheets of paper.


    Molam held out a hand, curious about what Agytha was hiding but knowing that this scroll probably contained nothing of importance if she¡¯d burned the more pressing ones. The man gave him the scroll and Molam scanned his eyes over the document, recognizing it as several sheets of inventory. Everything was as he expected. Pallets of wood. Currency from taxing trade. Something about the garrison''s wages. Food storage to survive the rest of Winter''s Sorrow.


    Wait. Molam frowned; the amount of food seemed far too low to possibly survive Winter''s Sorrow. He flipped to the next page. Most of the food and wood had been delivered to Mursa Shang. As he looked through the documents the members of the Dao brought him, he eventually found what he wanted. Elderwood from the World Tree ¡ªyet the storage had been crossed out, and the area it had been moved to remained blank.


    He looked at Agytha, whose eyes were still closed as though she was meditating. "Where is the wood from the World Tree?"


    Agytha''s eyes opened. "Why do you want to know that?"


    Molam kept his voice monotone. "Even though the city is under our command, the citizens will want to continue with the Festival of the Hero."


    "The elderwood is being transported to Oasis."


    Molam felt a rush of heat from the feather wrapped around his wrist. For a moment, he forgot the cold as he feared he couldn''t return home. "For what? How would you have planned to hold the Festival of the Hero without it?"


    Agytha''s lips curled. "Oasis needs it more than JiangXi does for a mere festival."


    And I need it for the Fiery One''s rebirth, he thought. The spirit, for some reason, was not speaking.


    "What does Oasis need it for?" Wait, there was another even more important question to ask first. "Who is transporting it?" Molam followed up. Winter''s Sorrow was starting. The elderwood couldn''t already be transported, or even in the midst of travel. No trader would be willing to be caught outside the safety of a city''s influence so long as the GloomSire and Unseen were prowling the trading roads.


    Agytha gave him a dull look. So she wasn''t going to tell him.


    "Molam," Kalle began, "We can take our time to question Agytha later. Once Primrose recovers from the drowsiflora, she can find out everything from Agytha."


    But Kalle didn''t understand. Molam fought the urge to shake Agytha and interrogate her to prevent any chance of the elderwood leaving beyond his reach. Waiting for Primrose to recover would only delay this critical bit of information ¡ª Winter''s Sorrow would stop him from chasing the transporter if they had already left. He looked at the inventory ledger again as his thoughts whirled with the gust of wind that blew in. Molam ignored the cold, his head pounding as he tried to organize his thoughts to identify the feeling of unease that he had overlooked something.


    The storage of food was more than he expected given what he had heard about Agytha selling most of it to the Mursa. Of course. Agytha couldn''t let the city know that she had other plans for their allotment of wood. The elderwood had been moved to the mursashu.


    "The mursashu agreed to deliver the elderwood to Oasis, didn''t they?"


    Agytha didn''t answer.


    The gathered group members flinched as another chilly gust of wind blew through the building, some covering themselves and hopping about in a vain attempt to keep their bodies from freezing.


    "Enough, Molam." Primrose coughed. "I can ask Agytha the rest."


    Shurra laid a heavy hand on his shoulder. Molam looked at the hand, then at Shurra and her gaze told him he had delayed them long enough. His people were still injured. It was acceptable to stop now, considering his reasonable belief that the city''s allotment of elderwood was simply with the mursashu.


    "My apologies." He looked at Kalle. "I could stay here and help look for anything useful. After all, IceMourne could arrive anytime today, and having an extra person search would be helpful."


    "All right." Kalle motioned for three members to help him with Primrose and Agytha. "I''ll take them back to safety and tend to them. Need someone to bring a cart? For anything you find that needs to be brought out."


    "Send someone back with some cloaks and lanterns. The wind keeps picking up and these torches won''t last long." Molam patted Kalle on the arm gratefully. "Bring Shurra. We don''t want anything unexpected to happen to you while Primrose is unable to channel her aura."


    "Wait." Primrose coughed and pushed herself up on the stretcher, a weak hand gesturing for them to move aside. She gestured at Molam in front of the rest of the Dao. "Molam will take charge."


    Kalle and Shurra''s faces betrayed none of their surprise, and Kalle even ventured to give Molam a grim grin. Molam turned around to look at the gathered members of the Dao, their faces gleaming in the torchlight from a combination of sweat and melted snow. The group in front of him numbered less than half the group they had set out with, but he imagined several stayed behind to help those freed or were too injured to come help secure the Mansion. Dried blood caked several faces, but all of them looked at him with determination in their eyes. But the significance of Primrose''s gesture meant he had to seize this moment.


    For a moment the memory of being surrounded by torch-bearing people surged in his thoughts, and his body shuddered. Molam gathered himself, reminding himself that this group meant him no harm, and he would need their help to get home. He slung his bow over his shoulder and started with a low voice the way he always saw Mursa Khan start, one that made others lean in to hear his words.


    "Some," he began, "Thought it impossible. They probably didn''t trust the plan. They didn''t trust a strategist that recently joined. They didn''t trust the way we changed our plan. They didn''t trust the Dao to succeed but ¡ª" he held up a finger, "I think what mattered here most was that they didn''t trust themselves. If they did, they would be here to see it through."


    "And they aren''t here now. They don''t know what you''ve done. But they will. Oh, they will. They will learn tomorrow," he nodded to them, "When they see how each and every one of you''ve succeeded at what they thought could not be done! They could have participated but they didn''t trust enough to show up."


    He raised his voice, holding out his hands with palms open. "And to you, my friends, the ones that did ¡ª the ones that trusted me, that trusted the plan, that trusted the Dao, and most importantly, trusted yourselves to see this through ¡ª to you I say: well done!"


    He paused to take a deep breath, then raised a fist and roared. "Now look at what we''ve accomplished!" The raised fist pointed around them. "Together, we''ve beaten the city guards and captured the Mansion!" He pointed to Agytha. "Together, we''ve captured the City Lord that kept the citizens cold and stomachs empty!" He held his hands out, pouring his burning emotions into each and every word. "Together, we''ve done the impossible!"


    The reminder seemed to invigorate the exhausted members. Several cheered, and then many others joined with whoops, shouts, and clapping. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Kalle and Shurra nod. Molam waited for the next gust of wind to blow through the building, flickering the torches as it passed and calming down the gathered members.


    "You might ask: now what?" Molam locked gazes with as many as he could, then spoke in an even tone, "Now, we salvage what we can. Now, we rebuild. Now, those who might not have lived past Winter''s Sorrow can burn wood to stay warm and we will distribute what Agytha has taken. We will not loot the city. We have seen what Agytha''s actions did, and we know we can do better! For a better tomorrow, we will ¡ª"


    A large burst of wind blew down from the open roof and extinguished all of the torches in the building including the flames that burned in the alcoves in the walls. Molam instinctively covered his eyes as he looked down, trying to adjust to the sudden lack of light. To his side, it seemed as though everyone else was doing the same.


    "And here I was wondering if Agytha lit the signal fire in a bid for help with entertaining guests, considering how she let go most of the servants." A voice, carried upon the wind and unmistakably female, emanated from the roof. Molam looked up, seeing the dark silhouette of a figure standing at the edge of the opening in the roof and looking down. "Though I must say, this is quite the rowdy crowd of guests. Is the Mansion''s pitiful state a result of entertaining you all just for an evening?"


    Molam seized the nearest extinguished torch from a Dao member and swiped it across his arm guard, raising a lit torch.


    "Identify yourself!" A member of the Dao stood forward. "If you are one of the city guard captains, know that City Lord Agytha has been captured. If you surrender peacefully¡ª"


    Boy.


    Molam threw an arm across the man''s chest, stopping him from speaking with a wide-eyed glare. He didn''t even need to hear the stress in the spirit''s voice in his head; his nerves tingled with urgency and the chill that ran down his spine had nothing to do with the cold. To his side, he heard the slithering of metal as Shurra drew her sword. Several members of the Dao cursed as they tried to relight their torches.


    The shadow stepped down from the roof''s open crater. Where one would expect her to fall down, she instead floated in her descent with another gust of wind until her feet stepped onto the top of the stairs. The flame of the torch he held did not go out despite the wind, and the light illuminated the woman''s relatively young face. Her silver hair was bound in a braid that fell across one shoulder, at the end of which was secured a brooch with an emerald gem. Her eyes were the same color as the gem, a glowing green, spaced gently above a straight nose. Molam noticed the thick fur that lined her clothes and boots was matted with blood and dirt, a sure sign of a recent fight.


    She did not look tall and the distance between them made her look even smaller, but the overwhelming presence as she looked down upon them all seized at the very air he breathed.


    "Identify myself, hm?" Her voice was at a lower volume now, an idle drawl that indicated she was in no hurry to speak. The way her voice carried to their ears from the darkness above the stairs beyond the torchlight''s reach struck Molam with a cold dread. "Very well then. By the Prince''s generosity, I have been granted the humble name of Rei." She reached to her belt and loosened a folding fan, expanding it with a flick of her wrist to hide the lower half of her face, her green eyes peering out from above. "But perhaps all of you would better recognize me by my Title: the Tempest."

 Ch 21: Fan

    To be human, live your life with convictions to guide you through the world.


    To be Emperor, live your life with convictions so strong the world bends to your will.


    To be a Hero, live your life with convictions that break the world.


    ¡ª Excerpt from Meditations, by the Red Emperor


    <hr>


    "To be honest, I wasn''t expecting Agytha to be hosting rowdy guests while I was away." The Tempest''s green eyes scanned the group from behind her fan, lingering on Agytha''s bound form. "As it seems Agytha is unable to play host any longer, I believe a bothersome duty falls to me now."


    Though their group wasn''t small, every single person''s movements had abruptly halted at the Tempest''s words. Though each individual''s expression of fear was uniquely their own, one aspect was shared among all of them: wide, open eyes, unwilling to look away from what their mind had justly determined was death.


    For a brief moment, instinct ran rampant and tethered Molam with those around him as they all grappled with the inevitable decision staring down at them: fight or flee?


    Shurra launched towards the stairs at a surprising speed; she moved as though she had no injuries, her sword flashing in the light of his torch. In a mere two bounds, she had almost reached the top of the stairs when the fan swiped downward through the air.


    A green gust arced through the air and met Shurra mid-leap. It looked as though the Northern Warrior collided with an invisible wall and was promptly thrown through the stair''s railing, the force hurtling her into a stone beam, snapping out a large section of it.


    Molam''s heart leapt into his throat as he feared for Shurra''s life. Physically reinforced or not, could someone even survive that?


    But his mind forced him to retain his gaze at the enemy. Their opponent''s face wasn''t illuminated in the darkness of the second floor, but her eyes were visible. Then the Tempest''s gaze locked straight onto Molam.


    "You." The eyes glowed green and Molam felt his navel lurch. "That''s quite the color."


    He had been wrong. The memory of GloomSire''s neutral look and casual interest had caused him to freeze, had caused him to forget to breathe ¡ª but the Tempest''s piercing gaze and the weight of her aura filled his lungs with the clammy dread of fear. All of his instincts urged him to run, to be anywhere but standing here in her presence.


    The weight of that gaze shifted away ¡ª flicking to the side as Shurra launched into view. The brief respite from that heavy gaze felt compounded by the relief flooding Molam''s entire body ¡ª Shurra was alive. Yet again the fan twisted and directed a blast of green air, sending Shurra flying straight over their group and colliding in a sickening thud against the wall. A series of cracks briefly formed like a crater and the wall crumbled all over the Northern Warrior, the rocks rolling haphazardly onto the lush carpet of the Mansion and the dust joining the snow that fell outside.


    All was silent except for the rumbling of rocks as they settled, a small mound where a giant wall had been. The itching feeling of being watched made Molam double back as he realized his mistake. Those glowing green eyes were trained on him and he had looked away.


    The weight of responsibility crushed down on him, far more than the reminder of GloomSire''s oppressive presence. The situation was quickly spiraling out of control and a clash with the Titled One seemed inevitable. The members of the Dao surrounding him were beginning to ready their weapons and even Primrose was struggling to move despite the lingering effects of the drowsiflora.


    Yet the Tempest had not attacked their group yet, only responding to Shurra''s moves.


    Why? The chill of Winter''s Sorrow blew into the desolate Mansion but he barely registered it as he tried to think. This couldn''t be the extent of the Tempest''s strength, especially while Shurra was attacking. Why was the Tempest holding back?


    "What can you tell me?" he murmured.


    Her Domain, while established, is not extending this far.


    The green eyes never left him as he returned their piercing gaze. He made his decision, throwing his left arm out; a ring of flame burst into existence and encircled his wrist.


    "Everyone stop!"


    His shout barely echoed in the Mansion now that it had gained a giant hole in the roof and the crumbled walls. But still, people heard and the group around him looked at him with furtive eyes, seeing the flames around his left wrist and the torch that he carried to shed light.


    The rubble shifted and Shurra emerged again, shaking off the excess dust and gravel from her form. Bits of dust clung to her damp skin and clothes.


    "Shurra." Molam peeled his eyes away from the green ones that looked down upon him from atop the stairs. Catching Shurra''s eye, he flicked his eyes towards what he wanted her to see, then stared hard at her until she nodded. "I will speak with the Tempest."


    "Are you the representative of these destructive guests?" With a snap, the fan closed against the Tempest''s palm. Her voice had changed, almost imperceptibly from her earlier tone of lax indifference. It now seemed more focused, more wary. Not enough proof, but enough for him to feel emboldened at his decision. And if he was wrong, the worst that could happen was they were all dead; so nothing changed.


    "I am." Molam paused to control his voice and breathing as he stepped up in front of the members of the Dao, his limbs and knees threatening to shake uncontrollably and his stomach churning without end. "And we are called the Dao."


    He did not pause to give himself time to second-guess the decision and stepped onto the stairs, walking slowly up to the Tempest with the torch held high.


    An ill-boding gust pushed against him as he took the next step. "You do not have permission to come up here."


    Her Domain extends halfway up these stairs. This feather is soon out of aura.


    Certain Titled Ones were said to be able to attack from any direction within their Domain, and judging by the way the Tempest had played with Shurra earlier Molam was certainly not eager to experience it himself.


    "We are no longer looking for more fighting. You are here to salvage the situation." Molam paused, then lowered his arm slowly and the flames went out. "This¡­ is my gesture of goodwill. I would like to talk."


    Molam continued his slow ascent, each step heavier than the last. He fought the urge to blink and look away as he focused his gaze on the Titled One above him, his knees threatening to buckle the second he stopped walking. And so he didn''t allow himself to stop. He took another step. "There is nothing for either of our sides to gain from further fighting, is there?"


    The fan snapped open and with a twist of her wrist, the Tempest made a pulling movement ¡ª a gust of wind blew past Molam. But not from Tempest''s direction, no. It was the opposite; the air was being pulled towards her. A burst of wind came from behind him, almost knocking him down if he didn''t grab onto the railing of the stairs to stabilize himself and his chest heaved as he struggled to suck in air.


    Before he had time to comprehend the situation, he heard choking sounds from behind him. Looking behind at the Dao group quickly, he saw that most every member had fallen onto their knees and was clutching at their throat. Kalle and Shurra were the only exceptions, the two of them milling about and tending to each fallen member.


    At first, Molam didn''t understand why he was spared. But then he remembered: the jade talisman. Clearly it mitigated the Tempest''s effect on him as the rest of the members fought to breathe.


    That wouldn''t do.


    Molam pressed his palms together, pretending to focus.


    I thought you disliked humans.


    "We''ll need them." Molam replied simply. He couldn''t move the World Tree''s elderwood to ZhiXia by himself.


    Flames erupted around him, expanding into the spirit''s red Domain. It spread out behind him to cover the Dao members and the choking coughs ceased. He heard a fit of raspy gasps from behind him accompanied by the greedy sucking of air, but did not turn around.


    Directly in front of him, red spread out only to meet green, and it moved no further.


    End this quickly. The aura reserves are low.


    Molam looked up at the Tempest and then took another step up the stairs, forcing himself to speak as normally as possible. "I won''t respond to that further as a show of good faith, Tempest. But surely you won''t begrudge me keeping them alive."


    Molam took another step.


    The fan wavered, then snapped shut again. The invisible pressure abated, and the spirit''s Domain vanished as well, no doubt to conserve aura. The palm of his hand that gripped the railings almost slipped from how much moisture had collected in that moment, but he kept his eyes on the Tempest and continued walking upwards.


    Stop. The spirit''s voice had rarely held this much urgency. Any further and you are walking into her Domain.


    Molam took a deep breath to buy himself time, but there was no chance to respond to the spirit as he looked up.


    "I thought you wanted to come up here." Those green eyes stared down from the darkness, the closed fan pressed to the bottom of her chin as her tone taunted him to take another step.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    There was no time to hesitate. He tilted his head with a wry smile. "... is a clash of our Domains conducive to an environment for talking?"


    The green eyes narrowed ¡ª then she swept an arm outwards and the overwhelming feeling of trepidation lessened on his shoulders. Molam didn''t need the spirit''s reminder to know what the gesture meant.


    Molam kept the torch held high as he walked up the stairs. Had there been this many when he first went up? He didn''t remember. But then again, when he and the others had first walked up this set of stairs, they had been the hunters.


    Now, he was walking up alone to one who could hunt all of them.


    He didn''t bother counting the steps, but also fought the urge to hurry up his cadence or even slow it down. Time seemed to slow down for him as he walked, the glowing eyes with the piercing gaze looking down upon him as he approached and the wind whispering death into his ears. His mind raced and he fought to keep his facial expression neutral so as to not betray himself. He''d seen the speed at which Lyka and Primrose clashed and the aftermath of the duel between Agytha and Shurra; now he was walking straight into the range of the Domain of a Titled One that could dominate. Unprotected and with only the vestiges of the spirit''s help to rely upon.


    The thump of his heartbeat roared in his ears as his mind raced with one question: What¡­ could he do?


    Before he had an answer, he found himself crossing the final step.


    Now that he stood in front of her, the torchlight illuminated the woman''s relatively young face. Up close, she was even shorter than expected, standing half a head shorter than Molam himself, who himself was barely of average height.


    He spoke first, attempting to dictate the conversation. "How was your subjugation of GloomSire and the Unseen?"


    But she did not respond. "So you speak for this rabble?"


    "It must have been quite a fight between two Titled Ones, even if one has significantly less reputation."


    "What is your relation to the Oracle?"


    "You had to retreat in the middle of the battle, didn''t you? When you saw Agytha''s signal fire."


    "Are you a Titled One?"


    "It would be in our best interest to avoid further fighting." Molam put a tone of finality into his voice. That she spoke right past his questions with her own told him enough that she did not want him to control the conversation, but her hesitation was the only response he needed. "After all, if you didn''t want to negotiate you wouldn''t have allowed me this close."


    Molam rarely had the opportunity to physically look down upon someone, and wondered if this was how Shurra and Kalle saw him. He smiled, doing his best to make it look full of confidence while he felt the heavy weight on his stomach lighten just a bit.


    "How bold." A gust accompanied her response, causing the flame of his torch to flicker as a wind lifted her upwards until she looked down upon him. The gesture made his smile become more genuine as he met her gaze. She had risen to his baiting and responded first. It wasn''t the topic he wanted to start with, but concessions were necessary to gain control over the conversation with someone who could easily kill him. "An unknown auramaster thinks he can negotiate with me on even grounds after walking so leisurely into the range of my Domain."


    "Perhaps if you weren''t already exhausted from fighting GloomSire. But now, you must contend with several auramasters, including the Northern Warrior that won''t stay down."


    "Several? I only count you, the Northern Warrior, and that red-haired woman with the waning aura." she pressed her lips, "Your definition of ''several'' is¡­ expansive."


    "By all means, believe in what you''ve Seen." Molam took a step forward and met her gaze. "If it is as you say, then I''ve walked into your Domain without any hope and you can end us all right here. Is this not what you want?"


    The fan snapped open again and Molam mentally braced himself, unwilling to let her see him flinch ¡ª but it was only to cover the Tempest''s face as her eyes pondered him. Now that he stood up close, he could see the design painted on the fan. Blue clouds and green wind surrounded a central burning red Sun. The colors seemed alive, layered onto the metal plates with vivid hues that made the objects they depicted swirl.


    "What I want doesn''t matter now, does it? This is the Empire''s city of JiangXi, and I am the defending Titled One." The eyes glowed from above the fan''s edges. "Bothersome as it is, I think you understand I have the Empire''s reputation to consider."


    "It truly is devastating for Oasis to lose a city¡­ especially damning for them if it''s something the Empire gifted to them." Molam continued looking up at the Tempest but did not shift any closer. "But if the Empire loses a Titled One without Oasis'' request for help, that would be¡­" he paused for emphasis, "Quite the news indeed."


    The air stilled ¡ª hushed, like the quiet before a storm.


    Then the Tempest narrowed her eyes. "Is that a threat?"


    "Only weighing the consequences if either of us acts rashly."


    "Rashly, is it?" The green eyes narrowed and her eyebrows furrowed. "Are you not afraid of death?"


    "Quite frankly, dying is the easiest thing I''ve ever done. It took no effort on my part."


    The Tempest let out a low series of chuckles which quickly turned into coughing laughter.


    "I did not expect such an answer," she finally said, closing the fan against her palm again.


    "There is wisdom in avoiding fighting when you can simply come to an agreement, wouldn''t you agree?" Molam added.


    "The Prince would like you." The Tempest descended from her height and touched the ground. She approached while keeping the closed fan in hand and then crossed her arms, her glowing green eyes contemplating his own. "What is your name, leader of this¡­ Dao group?"


    Molam considered lying, but met her gaze and thought better of it. "Molam."


    "Molam. Molam. Molam?" She murmured to herself. "Not a name among the Titled Ones I know of, and I can hardly bother myself to remember each insignificant auramaster. So, Molam." She leaned in close. "You are proposing I leave this as Oasis'' loss?"


    "Less proposing and merely stating what happened." Molam tilted his head to indicate to the group behind him and their hostage. "Agytha answers to the Lord of Sands Ragnyr, yes? The Empire has already washed its hands of this matter. You were simply here to oversee the transfer and while subjugating the UnSeen, arrived far too late to prevent Oasis'' loss. All perfectly understandable events, given that GloomSire is a Titled One in his own right."


    "And¡­" her green eyes lingered on him, "if I insist on putting your group of rebels into the ground now? Why should the Empire wait for a small problem to become bigger?"


    "Perhaps if you weren''t tired out by GloomSire, there would be no contest." Molam fought the instinct to back away at her steely tone. "But I''m afraid right now, we would put up quite a fight. Are you hinting that the Empire cannot deal with a bigger problem at a later date?"


    She raised an eyebrow, seemingly unphased by the taunt. "Besides your curious method of using red auramancy without me being able to See it, I don''t see any other person here aside from the Northern Warrior that can be a problem. Are you truly not extending your Domain to stay, as you say, cordial?" Her eyes lingered on his disheveled clothes and bruises, then she made a gesture towards the destroyed Mansion, "Or are you exhausted yourself?"


    "If you can admit to not Seeing one thing, what makes you think that''s all you are unable to See right now?"


    Her smile became frigid. "Agytha. Surely you can give her to me?"


    He returned an equally chilly grimace. "Unfortunately, my companion captured her fairly. It is rude to ask for the spoils of another''s hunt."


    "I thought you spoke for this rabble. Am I talking to the wrong person?"


    Molam paused, then raised his chin. "The answer is no."


    "Even if it means this negotiation is off?"


    "Yes." Molam stepped to the side, looking down at the stairs and pointing to show the Tempest. Agytha, still bound and helpless, had Shurra''s sword at her neck. "Agytha is our prisoner."


    "Do you mean to use her as a hostage?" Rei frowned. "I hardly care for Agytha. It''s more of a formality, seeing as she belongs to the Lord of Sands. If you think you can use her life to bargain¡ª"


    "You are absolutely correct that she is hardly a hostage worth any leverage over you." Molam kept his voice passive. "I don''t think you care about Agytha''s life, but you would have quite the aftermath to deal with if Agytha died and then you killed us as well."


    Rei narrowed her green eyes. "Elaborate."


    "Winter''s Sorrow is here. If Agytha dies, are you going to keep JiangXi functioning until Spring''s Blessings? We did this with a plan for the aftermath and know how to effectively run the city. But if you killed us after we killed Agytha¡­" Molam slowed down, letting the implication dawn upon the Tempest. "While I have no doubt of your exemplary fighting strength, maintaining control over JiangXi is an entirely different matter."


    "That sounds like another threat."


    Molam inclined his head. "Responsibility does seem daunting, yes."


    "The Prince would like you, but I like you less now." She fell silent, and the moment dragged as a subtle breeze whirled before she began again. "Is it befitting for the Oracle''s chosen vessel to be willing to use a human as a sacrificial piece?"


    Molam''s cheeks stiffened with his smile. The question burned at his cheeks, at his skin, and it felt as though his torch''s flame expanded dangerously. Molam forced himself to swallow his fear, turning a nervous exhaling into a plausibly deep-throated chuckle before he responded. "You''ll find that I don''t like myself either."


    "How curious." The fan unfolded with a snap of the wrist, and Molam clenched his neck muscles to avoid visibly flinching. Gently, the Tempest covered the lower half of her face with the fan and viewed him, her eyes wide and green. "To think the Oracle would extend her protection to one like you?"


    "Curious about one like me?"


    "Of course," her eyes held his gaze, and her voice seemed different coming from behind the fan. "Growing up, I heard so much about the Frost Saint''s battles with the Prince before¡­ well, her current predicament, as the Frozen Saint. The Prince is something else, but the stories ¡ª" her eyes gleamed in reminiscence, "¡ªto think a Titled One besides the Submerged Leviathan or Whale of ZhiXia could fight the Prince in single combat? But the Prince won, and now there''s a new person chosen by the Oracle as a vessel ¡ª right in front of me."


    She took a step forward with each pause, maintaining the crushing gaze that forced him to tilt his head down to look at her. Up close, her voice dropped to a mere murmur, emanating from behind that fan. "Allowing me to get this close without extending your Domain? You must be quite¡­" she lingered for a moment, "...confident."


    "I am confident you''ll find there''s nothing left here for you."


    The Tempest lowered her fan, lips curled and showing teeth. "Do you know what threats are?"


    Molam blinked at the unexpected question. What was she trying to get at? "When you tell someone what to do or suffer consequences."


    "Precisely. You''re offering someone a choice that isn''t really a choice." The Tempest pointed a finger to Agytha. "But too often, someone makes a threat they aren''t ready to enforce and they find themselves forced to make a choice instead. And when that happens, something interesting happens: the positions become reversed. The victim has turned it around and forced the aggressor to carry out their threat." Her eyes didn''t leave Molam''s as she slid closer, her tone dropping. "I don''t believe you''ll do it."


    Molam could not seem to focus his eyes away from that pair of green eyes. "I''m looking for an agreement, not a threat." Was it his imagination, or was the fan''s depiction of the Sun actually moving in his peripheral vision?


    "Agreement?" The wind chafed against his exposed skin. "And here I thought you were more intelligent than that. Did you consider why I allowed you to approach?"


    The Tempest''s words weighed on him even more than the pressure of the wind against his throat. He wanted to look away, but the glowing green eyes held him transfixed in place.


    "Still no Domain? Then allow me to tell you something." Her arm brought her fan to the side ¡ª a preparation for a forward flick. "Agytha carried her jade talisman around me and I have an inkling of what that feels like."


    Molam''s eyes darted towards the fan, his entire body on edge. "You insist on fighting?"


    "I believe I''ve uncovered everything you''re hiding. Thank you ¡ª for satisfying my curiosity."


    A coldness touched the back of Molam''s neck, but unlike the wind, it lingered. Then, in mere moments, it became wet against his skin. He exhaled slowly, his heart pounding in his chest as he steeled himself for what he needed to do. "No need to thank me. The gratitude is mine."


    "Oh? Is it because you think I''ll make it quick?"


    "No, Rei. I only wanted to spend some time talking, but you also taught me that Titled Ones can also sense jade talismans." The wind became still as more luminous motes fell all about them. "Did you think I gambled everything on the thought that you would let this go so easily?"


    He lunged, a hand closing around the Tempest''s right wrist in a bid to stop her from flicking the fan as he shoved his shoulder into her smaller frame, shouting in the hopes that Shurra could hear. "Shurra! Kill Agytha!"

 Ch 22: Shame

    Whenever I consider how others fault me, I ask myself this: have they done better?


    If not, what have they to teach me?


    ¡ª Meditations, by the Red Emperor


    <hr>


    Flames erupted around his wrist to engulf the fan as Molam lunged towards the Tempest, but she reacted faster than he believed possible. A swift backwards bound swung her right out of the range of his other hand, forcing him to keep a strong grip on her wrist lest she get out of his reach.


    She raised a hand to strike at his grip ¡ª the feather''s flames expanded in response, causing her to recoil instead. Growling, she let go of her fan and a burst of emerald wind seemed to fly it straight into her retreating left hand.


    In response, Molam dragged her wrist towards himself to throw her off balance, using his greater reach to knock the fan away before she could snag onto it. To Molam''s surprise, he found the Tempest extremely light; though she attempted to break free from his grip he could still hold on. Had her fight with the UnSeen weakened her so? Or was it IceMourne''s Domain?


    "Enough!" She stamped her foot down into the ground and used the momentum of his pull to strike her palm into his chest. The air rushed out of Molam''s lungs as the pain radiated through his entire body, causing him to lose his grip on the Tempest''s wrist and stumble backwards.


    As he stumbled, he tried to regain his footing, but the force of her palm strike had sent him past the steps. He saw the world spin upside down as the stairs rushed up to meet him, and he could feel his body struggling to orient itself for the inevitable fall. But the pain pulsated relentlessly in his chest, leaving him disoriented and helpless.


    A pair of arms caught him roughly and his world turned with Shurra''s somersaulting leap. The Northern Warrior''s jarring landing felt like another strike to his chest ¡ª Molam would have groaned in pain if he had air left in his lungs. He coughed up tangy blood and gasped for air, the attempt resurging the pain in his broken ribs.


    "Molam, can you stand?" Shurra wasn''t even looking at him, her eyes instead on the second floor.


    If Molam could retort, he would have, but he decided that responding with anger would only worsen the pain. The tears ran freely down his face but he did not care ¡ª all he could do in that moment was try and focus on breathing through the spasms of twinging hot pulses radiating his chest to the rest of his body. The throbbing ache cramped his lungs as he struggled to breathe, desperately hoping the spirit would know his request even if he couldn''t voice it.


    Green wind picked up within the destroyed Mansion and the pressure of the wind expelled all of the brilliant specks of divine snow that had fallen in from the hole in the roof.


    "I see. So you were waiting for IceMourne''s divine snow?" The Tempest''s voice echoed down from above, followed by her stepping to the edge of the stairs and into the air. "I retract what I said earlier. To try and bridge the gap in abilities by utilizing a dragon''s Domain ¡ª I underestimated you."


    She threw a hand forward at their group, fingers clawing at the air and pulled.


    The illuminating glow of the divine snow fell silently through the desolate mansion, and all that could be heard was the raspy clutched heaving of their group as they fought for air. Once again, only Kalle, Shurra, and Molam seemed unaffected by the Tempest''s skill.


    But the brief itching throughout his body had done its job. Molam clutched at Shurra''s arm, making her look at him as he wheezed through the pain to whisper hoarsely at her. "To them." He pointed at the group, coughing up more blood. The spirit was healing him but it was slow. Too slow.


    She carried him over in a swift bound, landing in the middle of the group right near Agytha''s body, almost slipping on the fresh blood that pooled on the floor. Agytha''s blood. He looked away, willing the sinking feeling in his stomach to come back another time.


    Molam held up his left arm. "Please," he whispered without sound to the spirit even as the choking gasps echoed around him. "Save them."


    So be it.


    The ring of flame manifested around his wrist, then expanded and became a dome of fire covering their entire group in a booming inferno, melting away the divine snow that fell about them and illuminating their immediate surroundings in a glowing, orange light.


    The grateful heaving of the humans around him resounded, with even Shurra breathing a sigh of relief. She did not have a jade talisman like him and Kalle ¡ª was her auramancy only barely able to prevent the Tempest''s skill from affecting her?


    "So you can still exert that." The Tempest''s voice echoed throughout the remaining walls of the devastated Mansion, her glowing green eyes apparent even through the conflagration that shielded them. She raised her arm backwards as she looked down upon them all, the air coalescing visibly around her fan. "Now that I''ve taken another glance, it only looks like Jett''s, but feels completely different. Allow me to test it!"


    The deafening pressure of air slammed downwards and the dome of flame rushed up to meet it, the two forces crashing upon each other in a spray of sparking flares that lit up the darkness within the Mansion. With a sundering crack, the remaining walls of the Mansion exploded outwards at the force of the Tempest''s gale, the roof threatening to fall down upon them. She swung again, the force of the auric squall blasting the first toppling bits of tile. The stone flooring outside of the fiery dome shredded in the cutting wind and members of the Dao dashed away from the edge in fearful panic.


    Three more times, the Tempest made a full-armed swipe of the fan at them, and each time the blazing inferno almost seemed to cave in under the force and pressure of her attack. The final burst of compressed gale plunged straight at Molam, drilling through the searing firestorm in a penetrating emerald cyclone that made the terrified members of the Dao rush away from him.


    But it, too, dispersed, a mere arm''s distance away from his outstretched arm. And with that, the fiery Domain scattered into the wind and the darkness of night crept in.


    The aura is spent. Take care of yourself, boy.


    Molam barely had time to register the spirit''s words as the Tempest''s presence loomed over them. Once again, the luminous motes of divine snow began to fall into what was no longer the Mansion, but where it once stood. Their group huddled together in the cold of Winter''s Sorrow and could only look up in the dark at those glowing green eyes.


    And the fan that was now held limply by her side.


    "She''s spent," Molam rasped at Shurra, directing his eyes at the Tempest.


    Shurra laid him down and launched herself at the Tempest, who lifted herself up in the night sky out of Shurra''s reach. Now, the divine snow was falling steadily, briefly illuminating all that it passed like frigid glowbugs. Despite that, none fell onto the Tempest herself, and all that came close were blown away by a gust of wind.


    "How unfortunate. Your Domain survived it all." Though the night sky was filled with the light blue glow of divine snow, those two glowing green eyes were unmistakable as they gazed down again. "And your gamble paid off." She held out her fan, capturing several flakes of divine snow. A moment later, she looked at Agytha''s limp body. "And now there is no longer a reason for me to stay in JiangXi. You may have it. For now."


    "Coward!" Shurra pulled a hand back and jettisoned her sword at the Tempest, who batted it away with her fan. "You would run from a fight?"


    The fan swiped through the air and again, Shurra was thrown into a wall. "Don''t get ahead of yourself, Northerner. I''m not running from you, but accepting your leader''s proposal to leave this as it is for now as Oasis'' loss. You think you qualify to even consider challenging me for a tattoo?" The Tempest looked down upon the rubble that Shurra was buried under, the falling divine snow briefly lighting up the Titled One''s livid face. "How disappointing. Ever since the Frozen Saint''s failure, the quality of you Northern Warriors has certainly fallen."


    "Now that Agytha is dead and IceMourne''s divine snow covers JiangXi, I''ll allow your group to play host until Spring''s Blessings." She turned upon them, the wind picking up in speed, causing the falling divine snow to blow sideways. "Molam, was it?" The words seemed almost whispered, yet were carried to his ears by the wind. "The next time we meet, it''ll be under different circumstances."


    And then all that was seen in the night sky was the falling light of IceMourne''s divine snow.


    ***


    "You''re immensely lucky none of your ribs punctured your lungs. They simply shattered on impact."


    Molam tried his best to not look at the healer''s mottled face. The candlelight''s flickering glow did not make the older man''s skin look better, but the Sun had already set and the divine snow was not bright enough to illuminate his room. Part of him could not help but wonder if he should really be trusting himself to a healer with that sort of unmended injury. Another stray thought that surfaced was one of guilt: what if it was a result of an unfortunate circumstance of birth?


    The healer, Bernad, washed his hands in a nearby basin of water, then immediately dried them with a cloth. "I''ve set your broken ribs and coaxed them to heal, but it will take some time to mend naturally. Don''t exert yourself any more than necessary for the next few days, and I will come by each day to monitor any changes."


    "Thank you," Molam exhaled gingerly, a reaction he had internalized from the pain from the previous night. "How long?"


    "How long¡­ before you get out of bed?" The healer shook his head, the act making the splotchy patches on his skin look as though they danced. "Until the next moon? Winter''s Sorrow is here. You might be young, but overexert yourself and all you have is a bitter life ahead of you. The health of our bodies are the inescapable consequences of the lives we lead."


    "I¡­ will keep that in mind. Thank you, Bernad."


    The healer shook his head. "I heard the Tempest was exhausted from her fight with the GloomSire, but even so, you shouldn''t be so lax in your defenses. A Titled One is still a Titled One."


    Molam''s eyes reacted to a knock on the door. Stolen story; please report.


    "Come in."


    Molam felt a pang of annoyance that Bernad was the one who answered ¡ª the man hadn''t even so much as glanced at Molam to see if he was ready.


    The door opened, and in came Kalle followed by blue flowers in burnt-orange hair.


    "How is he?" Kalle asked immediately.


    "I''m here, you know."


    "Primrose. Kalle." Bernad greeted the two of them, then answered, "He will recover." Bernad was putting his tools back into his pack, then looked at Molam pointedly. "You have Kalle to thank for stabilizing your condition throughout the night before I arrived."


    "Yes, thank you, Kalle." Molam glanced at Kalle meaningfully, but the man only gave him a look of exasperation.


    Bernad nodded with approval, then hoisted the pack over his shoulder. "Molam just needs time to recover and there shouldn''t be any long-term complications ¡ª as long as he stays put." The emphasis was directed at Molam, but the healer''s eyes met with both Primrose and Kalle. "The two of you are responsible for ensuring he stays in bed and heals. I will go see to Shurra''s injuries now."


    The door closed behind the healer as Primrose walked to the chair near his bed. Kalle paced about at the foot of the bed, waiting for Primrose to settle herself in after she arranged herself. Molam found it interesting that Primrose was back to wearing a simple black dress, with hints of purple in its folds. Then again, after seeing her in action last night, he doubted that Primrose chose her attire for vanity''s sake.


    Molam chose to take the initiative. "How is the city?"


    Primrose responded with the barest hint of a shrug. "Initial reports suggest it will take time to strengthen our hold. Winter''s Sorrow is here, so the people are more likely to be barricaded in their homes, but I did instruct the Dao to make it clear that we will be providing support and resources within our means."


    "And the guards?"


    "Non-combative." Kalle paused at the window, looking out. "As you predicted, none of them liked Agytha."


    Agytha. Lyka too. The reminder ate away at Molam as he tried to ignore the feeling gnawing away at his stomach.


    "Did you do as I asked?" Molam murmured. "Regarding Lyka."


    Kalle frowned, an expression that narrowed the scar that ran across his face. "Yes, I secured her body myself and we buried her with the rest of ours. But now that I can," Kalle turned his head to check that the door was closed before he came closer and lowered his voice. "I need to ask. Why?"


    Molam looked at Primrose. "Did you not explain¡­?"


    "It''s good to know that even an alchemist of your skills doesn''t understand the heart, Kalle." Primrose wasn''t returning Molam''s gaze, looking with unfocused eyes at the armguard on his bedside table instead. "The rest of the Dao can''t be allowed to know that I failed in detecting a traitor in our midst. Molam wanted to prevent the trust within the group from breaking apart."


    "Ah." Kalle opened his mouth as though he wanted to say something, then it seemed as if he thought better of it. "Well, I see. That does make sense."


    Molam could not shake off the feeling that they were not here to see whether he was recovering, but it seemed as if neither wanted to proceed with the topic they had in mind. "Well, the two of you came for something, yes?"


    "Molam, we ¡ª" Kalle started, but Primrose held up a hand.


    "Kalle. Go to Shurra''s room and make sure she doesn''t kill Bernad. He''s our only healer."


    "But Primrose, your aura hasn''t returned yet."


    "If Molam was a threat, he would have killed me yesterday during the raid on the City Lord''s Mansion."


    Kalle took a breath, looked at Molam, then heaved a sigh. "Sorry, Molam. It''s just¡­ Lyka. We''ve been on edge. I didn''t mean to imply you were untrustworthy."


    Molam nodded. "No problem, my friend."


    "I''ll let you two get on with it then." Kalle winked. "Don''t worry, Primrose wouldn''t bully a patient. I think."


    "If you make me laugh right now, Kalle, I''m going to die. And if I don''t, I''m going to kill you after."


    Kalle waved at the two of them, then closed the door behind him.


    "And so, here we are." Molam tried to catch Primrose''s gaze, but she stared down at her hands, clasped together in her lap. Her white knuckles made him wonder if she was trying to prevent herself from trembling. "How is your recovery?"


    She still didn''t look at him. "Kalle tried his best to concoct an antidote given what he knew about it so I can move about as normal, but only Oasis has the true recipe. I should be able to circulate my aura in another day or so."


    Molam waited, but it felt as though Primrose wasn''t going to be forthcoming. "What''s on your mind, Primrose?"


    Her clasped fingers visibly tightened. "Everything."


    Molam exhaled a wheezing chuckle, then winced at the pain in his chest. "If you are here to talk to me about everything, we shall be here quite a while."


    Her eyes raised to look at him. "What have you been hiding from me?"


    "Hiding? What can I hide in front of your eyes?" Molam paused. "What are you doubting?"


    "You didn''t tap your aura at all against Lyka or Agytha." Primrose exhaled, then raised her head to face him fully, her next word tinged with a hint of steel. "Explain."


    Meeting her gaze without blinking, Molam wished he could stop time to consider his words. "When Lyka knocked me to the wall, I had to heal."


    "That suggests you weren''t physically reinforced. Why?"


    He took a gamble. "I¡­ am poor at physical reinforcement."


    "I can believe that." Her deep blue eyes fell to his bandaged torso. "Is that all?"


    "Do you not trust me?" Molam turned it on her with a smile. "It isn''t as though I fought the Tempest and came up with the plan that allowed the Dao to take control of JiangXi. I am obviously a prime suspect."


    She didn''t return the smile. "When Lyka joined me years ago, she did so by saving my life."


    "Oh." Molam swallowed painfully. "Well¡­ now we know Lyka''s allegiance is to the Lord of Sands, which is why she was perfectly happy to kill the Red Army soldiers."


    "I ¡ª" she stopped, then unclasped her hands and brushed aside a stray lock of orange hair. Molam wondered if the deep chill of Winter''s Sorrow was what caused her hair to look bushier than normal, and the blue flowers shimmered each time she moved her head. "I trusted Lyka."


    "Lyka had a jade talisman. You can''t blame yourself for not Seeing that."


    Primrose''s expression darkened and Molam added, "We succeeded. Despite the¡­ unexpected mishaps, we succeeded. I know you two had history together." A memory flashed from his youth, of the children that had led him to the bonfire. "And¡­ betrayal hurts because it comes from those we trust most. I hope, for your sake, that Lyka is the only one to betray your trust."


    "I know Lyka was the only one, I just¡­" Primrose looked down again. "I guess I wanted it to be anyone but her."


    "Don''t ever make the mistake of feeling inadequate because you trusted another, Primrose." Molam trained his gaze at Lyka, the shadows dancing just out of his direct vision. "Lyka''s allegiance had always been to Oasis. It is not your fault that she is not deserving of your trust."


    Primrose''s lips flattened briefly. "And you?" Primrose looked up, her eyes searching his face. "Where is your allegiance? To the Oracle, I presume?"


    A memory of Lyka as she sat across from him and her expression when talking about duty crossed his mind. Then that memory of Lyka looked at him, her gaze the same as the one that had stared at him as he carried Primrose away. His breath caught and he tried to breathe; and immediately clutched at his chest in pain, the memory of Lyka dissipating in his narrowed vision.


    "Are you all right?" Primrose''s hand clasped his and he felt her other hand lay reassuringly on his back. "I can call Bernad¡ª"


    Molam waved dismissively. The blessed pain had distracted him from thoughts, but he whispered to her through gritted teeth. "My allegiance, is it? Would you accept it if I told you I simply wanted to go home?"


    Her fingers clenched against his hand, then as though realizing it, she let go.


    "This must be quite the place to come from, for you to think so fondly of it. What''s your home like?"


    "I¡ª" he paused, swallowing the pain, hissing through it. "I had two very, very different homes. Both places took me in when I had nowhere else to go." Another pause ¡ª a different kind of ache in his chest. "And both that took me in decided it would suit their purposes if I no longer lived there."


    He had intended a calculated answer, yet somehow the pain forced out the truth. "The Empire of the Sun forced each of my homes to make a choice ¡ª and I am the product of that choice. You want to know my allegiance? Then let me tell you: my allegiance belongs to all those that suffer from the Bloody Prince''s actions."


    "Committing yourself to helping so many people?" Primrose gave him a murmuring smile. "Will that help you go home?"


    Molam went quiet. For a moment, he couldn''t meet Primrose''s gaze. Then he looked out the window at the setting Sun and said, "This is part of going home."


    He lay there, leaning in his bed against the pillow until he heard Primrose stand up. He turned to see her smoothing her dress. "I see why you won the color of the Oracle''s approval."


    Molam looked up at her. "Tell that to the rest of the Dao."


    "Your achievements as a strategist have been conveyed, but they hardly needed convincing." She produced a jade talisman from within the folds of her dress and placed it next to him. "Your achievements made quite the impression among those present, considering they have you to thank for their lives."


    Looking from the talisman to her, Molam frowned. "Aren''t you afraid you can''t Charm me if I have this?"


    "I don''t think I''ll need to. It wouldn''t do for our new leader to be defenseless when we have two of these, yes?" She dangled her own in front of him, then made for the door. "Take the time to recover, Molam. I''ll ensure things run smoothly until then, and will come update you once daily."


    Molam slipped the talisman into his hand, feeling the cool jade against his palm. "Wait."


    Primrose turned around, her hand on the door and the blue satem flowers shimmering with the motion. "Yes?"


    "What is your allegiance to?"


    She seemed to think for a moment, then a hand reached up into her hair to pluck a flower that she then tossed at Molam. The blue flower sailed through the air and landed right on him, tumbling down his chest and coming to a rest on the covering.


    "Flowers." She hummed softly, the gleam back in her eyes. "You can keep some of your secrets, and so will I."


    ***


    The door closed behind her, leaving Molam with just the blue flower. He picked it up gingerly, bringing it close to focus on its scent as he tried to ignore the quiet that had settled in his room and the gnawing feeling that had returned.


    But the stillness would not be denied. After a moment, he set the flower to the side, picking up his armguard slowly. Its metal plates clinked as he felt between the leather and the metal for the feather to extract it.


    The plumage rested lightly in his fingers and the silence weighed on him even more. The thoughts that he had been ignoring surged in the hush and Molam licked his lips unconsciously before he tried to break the quiet lull with his own voice.


    "Fiery One." Molam kept his voice low, but the spirit was always listening. It had to be. The feather had lost its luster and warmth, but it was still there. Perhaps if he focused his eyes and thoughts on it, the shadows would stop moving.


    He waited, but the lack of response didn''t deter him. It was too silent in the room and the shadows were too loud so he whispered again ¡ª the spirit would respond when it wanted to. "I had a dream last night, you know. The elder of my village¡­ I recognized him because always carried this knobbed wooden staff to help him walk. And¡­ well, I think he was the one who made the decision. When they needed tribute, I mean. When they had too many mouths to feed."


    The candlelight flickered and the shadows danced along the walls, causing his fingers to clench tightly around the jade talisman as though it would protect him from them.


    "I used to wonder how the elder could make such a decision." Molam held the feather by its shaft, making it roll between his thumb and index finger. Perhaps if he spoke louder, the chanting would stop. "Growing up in RainBringer''s Castle, I thought only the most heartless people could do what he did. But then again, the entire village followed his instruction. So I knew: it was just part of being human."


    "So when I saw him last night, the first thing I did was ask: Why did you do it?" Molam''s vision became unfocused, the feather an orange blur in his sight. "And you know what he said? He pointed his staff at me and asked: how was your decision with Agytha any different?"


    The candle grew dimmer, sputtering at the end of its wick, but Molam didn''t care. The shadows could dance all they wanted. All he needed was for them to stop chanting. Why couldn''t they be silent as shadows should be?


    "Remember when we met and you asked me if I''m human?" He swallowed, but he knew if he stopped talking they would only be louder. "Ever since I woke up in the Castle, I''ve tried my best to be different."


    Outside, he heard people celebrating. Snippets of conversation reached his ears, unavoidable: members of the Dao thought celebrating their achievement of winning the battle for the city and fighting off a Titled One. They had won!


    Normally, his thoughts would be focused on the next step, and the plan after that. The Dao had the city, and from here on, it would be simple for him to retrieve the World Tree''s elderwood. He even had the manpower to help him move the elderwood to Sanctuary now. But as the thoughts tried to organized themselves, the candle died. The darkness only made the shadows louder in his head. They were jubilant to be there, eager to let him know that they were always going to be with him.


    He let the feather fall from his fingers.


    "But it seems I''m just more of the same."


    Molam buried his wet face in his hands, guilty with the shame that he had lost.

 Third Interlude

    Copy of a letter to the City Lord of Exabell, co-signed by the five Head Scholars of the Fallen Star Pavilion


    <hr>


    To: Gihan, City Lord of Exabell


    This letter is a response to your previous request. While the scholars at the Fallen Star Pavilion understand your plight, it is with great regret that we must reject your proposal for us to delay the sending of our notice to the other cities "in order to give each City Lord a fair footing for preparation of Winter''s Sorrow."


    Travel by messenger takes time. It is the Fallen Star Pavilion''s honorable duty to share our knowledge and findings, not hoard it. We send out messengers to all cities at the same time, with the fastest horses available, with the same predictions verified by each of the Head Scholars. There never was and never will be any intended slight for Exabell City ¡ª or any city ¡ª to receive news of IceMourne''s predicted migratory path later than any other city.


    As much as we would like to have all the cities be notified and begin their preparations for Winter''s Sorrow at the same time, we find ourselves powerless to negotiate the physical distance between the Pavilion and your city. We sincerely urge you to reconsider withholding Exabell''s allocation of academic funds for the Pavilion and to consider how that may affect our budget for fast horses and riders, which may further affect timely deliveries to Exabell.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Head Scholar Dayton has elected to send along a copy of our latest (very much unchanged) map of the continent based on our recent understanding that you may be a man of visuals. She notes that if you would carefully examine it, you may see that the words "Exabell" and "Fallen Star Pavilion" are markedly further apart on the map than most other words.


    Head Scholar Yuya offers a solution. It is her learned opinion that you could pray to EarthShaker with regards to this distance problem; changing physical distances is the dragon''s specialty. She notes that while this is an option, it may prove to either be expensive or uneventful. Pray, but like all dragons, EarthShaker rarely answers.


    We recommend that Exabell adopt preventative measures for minimizing the loss of life instead, even if preemptively declaring an end to Autumn''s Colors causes the city to lose out on a portion of taxes.


    Head Scholar Lauryn sends along her daughter''s old copy of Basic Arithmetic to aid you in your continued struggle in reaching positive tax revenue numbers. Perhaps you may find the girl''s illegible drawings in the margins particularly enlightening.


    Head Scholar ZuanBing attaches a helpful list of Cities where City Lords with a history of taking from the public''s coffers for their personal use also had a peaceful end to their rule. It will be the blank page. He assures you that while the list appears unpopulated, it is nevertheless, rigorously well-researched to Pavilion scholar standards.


    May the light of knowledge shine from up high, and may your health find it time to rest.


    P.S. Head Scholar Panmoru formally requests a recorded schedule of your bouts of gout and syphilis for academic purposes. He describes this study as "delightfully therapeutic."

 Ch 23: Petal

    I try to avoid killing.


    The way I see it, everything is already in a struggle to survive and thrive.


    Why cause more strife? And perhaps, one day something will do the same for me.


    But he disagreed.


    He said that if there''s an opportunity to kill something, you should always take it.


    It forever removes the possibility of it becoming a threat.


    To this day, I don''t know who is more correct.


    ¡ª Lost Winds, by an unnamed traveler


    <hr>


    Glass instruments in all shapes and sizes lined Kalle''s well-lit workshop from floor to ceiling. The view would have been daunting to a novice visitor, but it did not deter Primrose. Though she had limited the alchemist to the items he deemed most necessary when approving his purchase requests, Primrose still found herself contorting her body as she navigated through the cramped space between glass containers full of fluid or dry powder of various colors. She did not want to know what would happen if she broke some of the containers.


    As she reached the back of the workshop, Primrose tapped a nail against a nearby glass beacon, ensuring it clinked audibly so she wouldn¡¯t surprise Kalle with her silent approach. She then cleared her throat as she walked up. "I remember you said when you first met Molam he went by the name Carlton, and the most notable aspect was that Flangel the Wise took an interest in him. Did you ever wonder who he is?"


    Kalle didn''t respond immediately as he ground something with a stone mortar and pestle. "I didn''t know Molam carried the color of the Oracle''s approval at the time. I can only assume that Master Flangel could See it and that gave him reason enough to take an interest. What makes you ask?"


    Primrose pulled up a chair as she waited for Kalle to finish his task. "I was contemplating what sort of people the Oracle chooses as her vessel."


    Kalle poured the brown powder into a vial containing clear blue liquid, which immediately turned red. "We only have recorded knowledge of one. The Frozen Saint, Mother of Hjornheim. With only two examples, we can hardly make any connection." He inspected the liquid within, nodded to himself and then set it down atop a warming stone with etched golden runes.


    "Maybe so," Primrose conceded. "But ever since I told you all that we were waiting for the Oracle to send someone, no doubt all of you have wondered who it would be."


    "I believe this is a bit late to have this conversation." Kalle''s tone became smooth, guarded. "Are you having second thoughts about him? I admit he isn''t the Whale of ZhiXia but Molam has proven himself in different ways."


    "Oh, I''m not thinking of removing him. Truth be told, he has exceeded all expectations." Primrose brushed aside Kalle''s worried tone. "The Whale of ZhiXia could have undoubtedly helped us control JiangXi but the aftermath would have been¡­" Primrose paused, exhaled, then continued. "...disastrous. Which is why I was thinking about the Oracle''s foresight and how she chose Molam."


    Kalle''s shoulders relaxed, then shrugged. "To know why someone is the way they are, you must look back to how they came to be."


    Primrose thought for a moment as the two of them watched the vial. The liquid within had gone from a clear red to an opaque orange. "That''s an interesting thought. Did you come up with it?"


    "Oh no, not me, not directly," Kalle leaned forward and inspected the vial''s colors, then set it back down. "It''s based upon one of Master Flangel''s sayings: To know why something is the way it is, you must look back to how it came to be. I simply thought that it can apply to people as well, and I believe Master Flangel was attempting to put it into practice when he raised Nettie." The orange liquid had begun to turn clear again, and Kalle snatched it off the warming stone to peer at it. Satisfied, he handed the glass vial to Primrose.


    "Nettie?" Primrose asked, accepting the vial gingerly, covering her nose at the smell. "Oh. The newest Prodigy. I''ve been focused on JiangXi for so long, I forgot that things are happening elsewhere around the world. Hasn''t she received her Title at the age of five or six? That''s quite impressive."


    "Impressive is an understatement if you''ve seen the things she''s come up with. I wonder if Master Flangel bothered to take notes on her upbringing so future generations can replicate the conditions that raised a Prodigy." Kalle spun around, heading back to his mixing table with practiced ease, walking so fast Primrose almost thought he was going to bump into every single instrument along the way. "Drink that quickly, by the way, before it congeals."


    Primrose looked at the acrid-smelling concoction with disgust. "Couldn''t you make this taste better? Honey, or sugar?"


    "Each additional ingredient adds complications. Best keep it simple, unless you want to stay bedridden and wait for the drowsiflora to leave you naturally."


    Pinching her nose, Primrose inserted the vial deeply into her mouth in the hopes that she could spare her tongue. The viscous liquid dropped agonizingly slowly down her throat. She resisted the urge to retch, and only when she had swallowed it all did she set the vial to the side and reach for water.


    Gagging silently at the lingering taste, Primrose was grateful that Kalle had his back turned to her as she held a clenched fist to her lips as though she could smear the aftertaste away from her senses. But it needed to be done; Molam was still recovering and the Dao needed an acting leader.


    "Thank you, Kalle."


    "Not an issue. I apologize for not understanding enough about drowsiflora to come up with something that would help you with your aura circulation." The alchemist pulled out his glass piece and peered at her through it, then shook his head. "Well, it should return to you within a few days, and no one else will know. What will you be doing today?"


    "Overseeing the tally of what JiangXi actually has. Whatever documents and information the City Lord''s Mansion contained were blown away by the Tempest," Primrose sat for a while longer, not trusting her stomach to agree with what she had just forced down. Kalle''s question, while probably intended to get her to share some responsibility with him, was better used as a way to organize her thoughts vocally. "It''s too much to ask for our people to search for it now that Winter''s Sorrow is here, and I doubt we''d recover all of it regardless. There needs to be a good understanding of all the resources we can provide the citizens, though it''s not looking good. No point having JiangXi if we lose it due to lack of internal support."


    Kalle did not turn around, one hand adding a pinch of blue powder to a mortar even as his other hand swirled a red mixture without pause. "Don''t push yourself too hard, Primrose."


    "Neither should you." Primrose pushed against her knees and stood up. "Go see Shurra when you can, or Bernad is the only one that visits her."


    The swirling wrist did not pause, but his other hand did as Kalle reached for the pestle. "I thought you visited Shurra."


    "Oh I do," Primrose stepped cautiously through the glass maze and reached for the door. "But Shurra is demanding her tattoo, and it''s safe to say that Bernad is unfamiliar with the ways of the Northern Tribes. I think someone with a similar upbringing should do it, given that you already do the delicate rune carving for your warming stones."


    The hand grabbed at the pestle and began grinding away at the mortar, the swirling of the red liquid not stopping. "I don''t know what you mean."


    "I wonder how one becomes Kalle then. Perhaps to know why you are who you are, you must look back towards how you came to be?"


    She wanted to say more, but Primrose saw the way Kalle worked away at the mortar and felt she risked his ire if she continued.


    When he emptied the mortar into a bowl and refilled it without answering her, Primrose slipped through the door without a sound. It pained her to see a man like Kalle avoid his own past, but she could do no more for her friend than gentle reminders.


    She closed the door to the sound of the pestle''s steady grinding into the mortar.


    ***


    "The patient is not feeling well." Bernad shut the door firmly behind him, stepping in front of Primrose as she reached for the handle. "Allow him to rest."


    Though Primrose was nowhere close to being as tall as Shurra, she was still tall enough to look the healer in the eyes. She had never asked about the man''s skin but prided herself on being able to look squarely at him without flinching the way she had seen many others do.


    "I am only going to talk to him."


    The healer closed his eyes and shook his head. "Allow me to do my job, Primrose. He does not need more stress."


    "Stress?" She did not let on her indignation as she tried to sidestep him. "It''s merely a report. How can I relinquish leadership to him if he starts by staying ignorant of our current situation?"


    "How can he be an effective leader if he''s overstressed while trying to recover?" Bernad countered, matching her sidestep. "And as for leadership, I am doing this because I see him as the leader." The man held out a stiff arm, barring her from entry. "Exactly as you told us to do."


    Primrose almost instinctively layered her voice, but her aura did not respond even as she clenched her jaw. It was one thing in front of Molam who was cloaked in the Oracle''s protection, but the loss of her Charm had been frustrating beyond measure for the past two days. She could almost hear her old Madame''s gentle rebuke in her head: how could a Petal with superficial charm hope to become a Flower?


    She smiled at Bernad and placed a gentle hand along his rigid arm. "It''s always a wonderful thing to know a man has strength in his convictions, Bernad." Sliding a finger up along his arm, she applied a firm finger to the crook of his elbow and the man''s limb gave way easily. "I am impressed that you take my words to heart so well." She sighed softly, looking into his eyes and making him take a step back as she leaned in closer. "Perhaps you can make an exception just for me? I promise to be quick."Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    The white splotches across his cheeks reddened as he looked away from her eyes. The poor man had probably never had a proper conversation with a woman before. "I¡­"


    "You want to ensure that all our people are well enough to do the difficult task ahead of us, and that''s perfectly commendable." What had Scarlette once said? Men are weak to compliments? "And I''m quite certain that everyone here appreciates all the hard work you put in, being our lone healer. So I want you to know that I understand your concerns, Bernad. I really, really do." Perhaps too much. This was unbecoming. "So I promise to be quick. This is just a meeting that he is expecting, so I''m sure you can understand, can''t you?"


    The man blinked, his arm falling to his side as he stepped to the side, murmuring without looking at her. "I ¡ª well, if you insist, Primrose."


    "Thank you, Bernad." Primrose brushed her dress against him as she reached for the door. "Please, continue on with your duties."


    She closed the door behind her, looking into Molam''s room.


    It was darker than she expected, too dark for Primrose''s eyes to adjust immediately and she instinctively palmed a dagger at the darkness. The subtle scent of a smothered candle lingered in the air and a chill that ran down her neck. For a moment she thought someone had left the window open but she saw it closed, the falling snow illuminating the glass panes as they drifted past.


    "Molam?" She almost whispered into the darkness, sliding a silent foot along the wooden floorboard.


    A shift, the sound of cloth rubbing against each other.


    "Primrose?"


    "Why is it so dark?" She tried to keep the rush of relief out of her voice as she continued to slide forward. "Wasn''t Bernad just tending to you?"


    "I wanted the ¡ª" his voice paused. "I couldn''t sleep with the candlelight."


    Her eyes had adjusted by now, just enough to make out the shapes illuminated by the meager light of the divine snow. She saw the faint outline of the bed and the chair she had sat in last night, but more importantly she could just barely make out Molam''s figure shifting himself upright on the bed.


    "I''m going to sit by you." Stowing away the naked blade, she approached slowly and pulled out the chair, ensuring that Molam could hear the legs of the chair drag along the floor so he wasn''t too alarmed.


    Upon sitting down, she realized she still couldn''t see his face, but the scent of dried blood and gauze was overwhelming in the darkness. Looking towards the table by her side, she saw the extinguished candlestick and began looking for a match.


    But a hand reached out to grip her by the wrist, and she resisted the urge to flinch. "Are you going to summon a light for us?"


    "No." His voice seemed hoarse, far more than she remembered it last night. The pressure on her wrist lessened, and then his fingers slipped away. "Leave it."


    She almost contested it, but decided that Molam must have his reasons. For some reason, the meager light from the window and the angle she was facing him meant that she could not make out his facial expression, and only the slightest glimmer of light that reflected off of his eyes indicated he was even looking at her.


    "I understand you''re still recovering, but this is urgent. We managed a full tally today. There isn''t enough in the city''s leftover storage to sustain us throughout Winter''s Sorrow. Much of it was blown away by the Tempest''s final attack." She sat down in her chair, wondering if she should lean forward to look for Molam''s expression or lean back to give him his space. "It seemed her final ''gift'' to us was better considered than I thought."


    In the ensuing silence, Primrose remembered a bit of advice she had once given to those that reported to her. And so she continued, "I understand you are still recovering, so I apologize if this feels as though I''m just bringing you more problems to consider, but Kalle and I came up with three possible solutions so that a decision can be reached."


    She held up a finger in the darkness, wondering if from Molam''s angle he could see her.


    "One: not all of the city guards have agreed to join us. Kalle proposed viewing it as an equation: we determine which of the city guards can safely be ejected from the city. The ones without families or support will have no one to protect them from this decision, and by reducing the amount of mouths we need to feed¡ª"


    "No."


    Primrose flinched at the tone. It was so different from the way Molam generally spoke and set her on edge. Had his injury worsened? "But Molam, there isn''t time to sift through each of them and even if they have no lingering loyalty to the Empire, keeping useless, and frankly, potentially dangerous¡ª"


    "Next."


    The growl, low and full of pain, made Primrose reconsider advocating for the first solution. "Very well."


    She held up a second finger.


    "Two: I attempt to contact the Unseen." She hesitated, but his eyes only glittered unblinkingly at her in the darkness. "We know they''ve been busy attacking merchant caravans since earlier this year, so there might be some hope that they have excess they are willing to trade. I think ¡ª and Kalle agrees ¡ª that GloomSire and the Unseen must still be alive. At the very least, we don''t think the Tempest finished their subjugation, if we were to retrace the sequence of events and the way she arrived."


    "Too dangerous." Molam''s voice was softer this time. "No point risking the loss of any more members of the Dao. What''s our third option?"


    Primrose shifted a shoulder that was beginning to cramp, surprised by a small pop in her joint as she relaxed a muscle. Her breathing felt stilted as she wondered why her entire body seemed to be on edge; she reminded herself that Molam was not going to harm her before she lifted a third finger.


    "Three: We attempt to negotiate with the mursashu. Mursa Shang''s ships are still docked in the River Jiang." Primrose hesitated. "I know you mentioned this possibility before we controlled the city, but the coffers are empty. Whatever Agytha did, she left JiangXi poor. Truth be told, both Kalle and I think this isn''t even worth pursuing when we have nothing to offer them besides future debt, but we would then need to convince the Mursa that we could even honor the debt."


    "That''s it?"


    Primrose blinked in the darkness, wishing she could summon the aura to See. Perhaps it would allow her to at least read Molam''s expressions. "Well, yes. That''s all we could come up with."


    The two glints in the darkness disappeared, then he opened his eyes again. "So to confirm, our people ¡ª and they are our people now ¡ª will starve before Spring''s Blessings. You and Kalle thought that our only options are to choose the citizens we are willing to abandon or risk losing you while negotiating with a Titled One?"


    "That was hardly how I presented it." Primrose frowned, wondering if he could see her expression in the darkness. "But that''s an alarming way of looking at these options. Aren''t you supposed to look at these decisions with that cool-headed detached way of seeing the benefits?"


    "Some things shouldn''t be rationalized away."


    "We''ve just made an enemy of the Empire of the Sun and the Bloody Prince." Primrose leaned forward. "Do you really think that the Dao is in a position to accept a soft leader?" She wanted to shake him out of his bizarre stupor; the present Molam seemed completely different from the one that sat down with confident plans. "Why are you so unfocused on the bigger picture? What''s wrong?"


    The eyes looked at her in the darkness, then he raised his arm towards the candle to snap his fingers.


    Nothing happened.


    Primrose blanked, unable to comprehend what transpired. "Try again," she blinked in the darkness, willing for it to be a mistake. Molam obliged, the snap resounding loudly in her ears, made louder by the absence of a flame.


    "Molam, you ¡ª" She sucked in air silently as her thoughts ran swiftly. "How? Were you struck by Lyka''s spear?"


    "If I was affected by the drowsiflora, I wouldn''t have been able to defend us against the Tempest. Perhaps it was when she struck me." His arm lowered, falling limply back down to his side. "It''s gone, Primrose. Now that I am without it, will you still follow my lead?"


    "That¡­ can''t be." Try as she might, she could not think of a case like this, where someone lost their ability to use aura. "Bernad. Does Bernad know¡­?"


    "I have not told him, but I know my body best."


    "Then, the Oracle. She chose to give you her mark. Surely, she can¡­?"


    His eyes glimmered at her as he sighed. "It is currently Winter''s Sorrow, Primrose."


    She bit back a snide remark. Molam had been too instrumental in their raid of the City Lord''s Mansion and the subsequent fighting off the Tempest. The Dao that had survived their encounter with the Tempest had vastly embellished the story of the fight to those that were not there and some were beginning to wonder if Molam was secretly on the level of a Titled One. To lose him now, of all times, would...


    "No one can know," she declared softly, extending a gentle hand to his arm and clasping his wrist with two fingers. "As soon as we can, we''ll give you a reason to return to see the Oracle."


    "Thank you." He shifted slightly in the darkness, and now the glow of the divine snow was illuminating the curve of his nose. "Then you still want me to lead."


    "That is a necessity at this point. Moreover, your most impressive feat is not aura-based but the plans you came up with and the leadership you''ve already demonstrated." Primrose let go of his wrist and put her hands together, hoping that her trembling arms weren''t visible to him. "Surely your mind is unaffected?"


    "My thoughts are quite clear." His voice became clearer. "Then, Primrose. We will proceed with the third option. Arrange a meeting with Mursa Shang for me. Before the end of the week."


    "But your health¡ª"


    "Is not more important than the Dao being backed into a corner. The people aren''t going to eat less because I am injured. You are right. This is no time to be a soft leader."


    She bit back the argument. He had already been informed of their monetary situation, yet he insisted regardless. "A week is not enough time to come up with enough funds to feed the city."


    "No. It is enough for you and Shurra to recuperate and be at fighting strength."


    Primrose''s wary sense of alarm spiked. "Are you unwell? No one steals from the mursashu. God Gered has seen to that."


    "I don''t plan on stealing from the mursashu."


    "Then why do you need us to be at fighting strength?"


    There was a lengthy pause before he responded.


    "If Mursa Shang deserves his Title as a Mursa, he is already considering the value of being able to offer my head to the Empire."


    She stood up immediately, and the shaking hands weren''t due to the lingering effects of Kalle''s antidote. It made sense, and she could not contain her inner fury at herself for not thinking of this earlier. "Then why would you even go? Even if Shurra and I are at peak strength, the mursashu aren''t someone we can fight without cause. Moreover," she paused to collect herself, slowing her words and lowering her voice, "how is this any different from the first two options I presented? You won''t sacrifice those that aren''t part of us, you won''t put the members of the Dao in danger, but you choose the one where you are at the most risk?"


    "Doing so minimizes our potential loss."


    "You seem to be suggesting that losing you isn''t a devastating loss." Primrose could not help but keep the pithy tone in her voice. "You haven''t even told me how you plan on buying food from the mursashu. Assuming Mursa Shang doesn''t just use the opportunity to abduct you and sell your life to the Empire."


    "The mursashu pride themselves on their ability to identify and seize opportunity ¡ª even more so for a Mursa." The eyes closed in the darkness. "Arrange it, Primrose. Put your trust in me. I have something the mursashu desire; something that money cannot buy, something that the Empire cannot give."


    "Something that money cannot buy¡­?" Her shaking hands had stopped. "Even if I do this, the Tempest blew the City Lord''s Mansion to ruin. We won''t be able to host them anywhere."


    "There''s no worry about that. Mursa Shang will accept the meeting¡­ and I believe he will insist it be held on his ship."


    ***


    The door closed behind Primrose and Molam leaned back in the darkness, sighing with his arm covering his eyes. The knot in his chest loosened only barely, and the recovering rib bones made him groan with pain.


    But it worked. The gamble had paid off. While Primrose couldn''t use her aura, he had convinced her to become a willing participant in helping him keep his greatest secret.


    And all it took was a lie. A lie, just like the one the village elder had used.


    His fingernails dug into his palms, but no reassuring voice echoed in his mind.

 Ch 24: Forward

    The organizational hierarchy of mursashu is thus: the three Mursa command their mursashi, leaders responsible for their specific area of commerce or function within the caravans. While all three surviving groups originate from the Lost City of Mur, the Mursa lead their respective train of mursashu with one goal in mind:


    To one day reclaim their homeland of Mur.


    ¡ª Transcribed notes of Head Scholar Lauryn interviewing a mursashu member. Archives of the Fallen Star Pavilion.


    <hr>


    "The Mursa welcomes the leaders of the Dao to his ship for the evening and discussions regarding your proposal."


    The divine snow of Winter''s Sorrow fell unabated all over JiangXi, but the rooftops of the buildings glowed and the city was beautiful in the evening. Down at the river docks, the frozen River Jiang was also covered in snow, and each of the large icebound tradeships had their masts and decks clearly lined with it. The mursashu could be seen going about each deck as small, dark silhouettes working tirelessly to sweep the snow off the ships.


    Molam kept his movements deliberately simple as he walked up the gangplank with Primrose, Shurra, and Kalle in tow, following the Mursa''s attendant who had introduced herself as Jyuni. While they were bundled tightly in Kalle''s black cloaks, the mursashu wore bright colors in various hues and styles that he vaguely recognized from the cities he had visited during his years of wandering. The attendant Jyuni herself wore a robe woven from a thick deep purple linen cloth with gold-trimmed hems that fell down past her knees, and though he could not recognize the particular fur lining her snow boots, there was little doubt in his mind that it was of the highest quality money could buy.


    It was a stark reminder that for the mursashu, money was power. And right now, the Dao had none to offer.


    Upon arriving onto the ship''s deck, Jyuni bowed, her black unbound hair falling gracefully to the side. "Thank you for taking the time and effort to follow me here. This is Mursa Shang''s personal ship, and I will announce your arrival to the Mursa. Please, wait here."


    After Jyuni left, Molam glanced about. They were on the ship''s deck, yes, but there was a second level above them and he could see the vague outlines of others looking down upon them. He motioned to the rest and they came closer.


    "It''s begun." Molam whispered, tilting his chin towards the upper level. "No, Kalle, don''t look."


    "What''s taking them so long?" Kalle stamped his feet. "I didn''t have enough time to make a second pair of boots like yours, Molam, my feet are freezing."


    "Weren''t you born in the cold?" Molam gave Kalle a warning look. "We don''t know who may be listening."


    Kalle put his gloved hands to his face, huffing into them such that his cheeks puffed out. Shurra''s blue eyes displayed none of her thoughts besides her usual grim silence, and Primrose seemed content with allowing her orange hair to billow in the wind, the divine snow adding motes of light to her hair alongside the blue satem flowers. Molam decided it was a good thing he told them to expect a lengthy wait ahead of time.


    He suspected Mursa Shang and Mursa Khan had similar approaches. Negotiations like these could never start until one side felt they had acquired as much information as possible, and Mursa Shang most likely wanted to start off knowing the one thing he and Primrose were desperate to hide: what was Molam''s condition?


    So he stood still, pretending to be unaffected by the cold wind that stung at his face as they waited in silence on the ship''s open deck at the full mercy of Winter''s Sorrow. He looked up at the shadowy figures that oversaw them from the second level with a disinterested gaze even as he pondered the Mursa''s next move. If Mursa Shang was anything like Mursa Khan, his first mistake would very likely be his last.


    The duration of their wait afforded him time to truly appreciate the grandeur of the River Jiang. The divine snow lost its luster upon touching the earth, but the frozen waters of the river were different and the divine snow that collected upon its frozen surface did not dissipate in their luminosity. The effect was amplified against the darkness of the night, and from atop the ship''s deck Molam could see the full splendor of the river extended by many leagues like a glimmering serpent slithering through the Central Valley. The frigid bite of the wind against his skin did nothing to distract him from the sheer beauty that was IceMourne''s Domain. Gazing upon it as he did now, Molam could only exhale in a misty cloud and wonder: how was it that all this beauty caused so many deaths each year?


    "The Mursa extends his gratitude for your patience. Please, come to the second floor and follow me inside."


    Jyuni had materialized at the second floor of the deck, gesturing for them to come up.


    Shurra held a hand to Kalle''s mouth, who looked as though he was going to voice further complaints. Molam gave Shurra a grateful nod, then beckoned to them. Primrose tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and followed along.


    ***


    The entrance to the Mursa''s cabin was a lavishly decorated set of doors, guarded on either side by two burly men dressed in thick red robes. When they approached following Jyuni''s lead, she made a small gesture and the two men pushed the doors open, revealing an interior well-lit by various lanterns and an extravagant table set out with plates and eating utensils. There were two sets of windows on either side, allowing those inside to see the falling light of IceMourne''s divine snow as it drifted past the glass panes. At the far end of the table sat one man who could only be Mursa Shang. The man who had the elderwood he needed to obtain in order to go home.


    "Don''t just stand there, come in, come in!" The Mursa beckoned jovially with a hand that glittered with two rings, one with a ruby gem and the other sapphire. "It is dreadfully cold outside, and the longer you stand at the doorway the more the heat escapes!"


    For a moment, Molam wanted to make a snide remark about having waited outside for a lengthy period of time. Something about the Mursa''s unexpected cheery attitude made him bite his lip and he walked in, beckoning to the others to follow. When all of them had entered, the guards closed the doors behind them and Jyuni walked past them to stand next to the Mursa.


    "There''s no need to stand on ceremony, sit, please, take a seat, any seat you like." The Mursa gestured at the seats and plates set out for them. "Make yourselves at home, you are my guests. Once we''re all seated, we can have dinner."


    Now that he was inside, Molam saw that there were more guardsmen in the room, standing at each corner. The insides of his stomach churned, but he pacified it with a silent exhale as he viewed the table setup. The Mursa sat at his end of the table, and the four chairs prepared for them were arranged two each on either side of him.


    "Well, you heard the Mursa," he turned to smile at his group. "Let us take a seat."


    He walked to the nearest chair, Primrose following to the side closer to the Mursa. Kalle and Shurra walked to the other side of the table and each selected a chair of their own, pulling them out to sit down. Kalle seemed grateful at the heat, sitting down with a soft exhale even as Shurra lumbered into her seat.


    Molam waited until his companions were sitting before he pulled the chair out, dragging it towards the other end of the table across the Mursa, then picking up the utensils and plate and also arranging it in front of his chair before sitting down to find Mursa Shang regarding him with a look of amusement.


    Sitting down across the Mursa gave Molam a full view of the man. Black, thick hair was parted elegantly down the middle and framed a middle-aged face. His high cheekbones did not hide the dancing black eyes that watched his every move as Molam sat down and arranged the plates as he had seen with Mursa Khan. The Mursa''s goatee was well-trimmed, but Molam noticed a small streak of gray beginning to form.


    And the Mursa''s robes were dyed the color of deep black, with hems trimmed in gold the same style as Jyuni''s. Unlike the other mursashu, Mursa Shang''s robe was not long-sleeved to protect against the cold. With his upper arms bare, Molam could see that the Mursa''s left arm wore a golden bracelet and his right arm bore a tattoo, but he could not see the design.


    "I am delighted to be able to host the newest leaders of JiangXi tonight," Mursa Shang gestured with both hands at either side of him to Primrose, Kalle, and Shurra, though his eyes never left Molam''s face. "And I must say, we have quite the varied gathering this fine evening. I have asked the kitchens to do their best to entertain you as befitting your palate, so please, do tell me if anything is not perfect."


    "Mursa Shang, we came to discuss ¡ª"


    The other hand was held up, and on it were three other rings with gems of emerald, topaz, and a diamond that sparkled in the light of the lanterns.


    "Please, please," the Mursa smiled, his lips pressed together and not showing teeth. "Heavier business discussions can wait, surely? We''ll get to those in time. Hunger makes the body and spirit a nagging mistress, and I wouldn''t want to be incapable of giving our discussions the full consideration it deserves."


    Molam''s chest complained at his clutched breathing, for he had wanted to say something at the Mursa''s statement. It wasn''t what he said but how he said it that set Molam on edge ¡ª yet his gut rejected the idea of forcing the talk to happen at his preferred pace. All he could do was put on a false smile for his companions.


    "As the Mursa has given much thought into playing our host for tonight ¡ª let us eat first and leave the business for later."You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    "Aha, a man that truly understands, good, good, very good!" Mursa Shang held out a hand gesturing at Molam to sit. "Indeed, I like to know who I''m doing business with before I proceed. After all, it''s not everyday that I can host a man without a Title, yet could survive a fight with the Tempest."


    The casual words seemed to dissipate the heat in the room and the eyes of his companions darted towards Molam as though expecting him to respond. Molam sank slowly into his seat at the Mursa''s words, his eyes fixated upon the opposing man''s eyes but in his peripheral vision, he saw Shurra and Primrose''s lips pressed into a thin line.


    But Molam flicked his eyes towards the two women as he pulled his chair in and the momentary chill passed ¡ª he met the Mursa''s gaze again and replied with the barest hint of a smile. "If Titles were all we needed to indicate fighting prowess, then surely you could fight anyone, Mursa Shang."


    "Please, please, you flatter." The Mursa''s other hand waved away Molam''s comment. Two more rings: one with a sapphire, the other a ruby. "I was only selected to inherit the Title of Mursa because my predecessor valued my luck at the negotiation table. It is nothing like the warriors that can reshape the world around them to their will."


    "But enough about my lack of achievements, I promised my guests a dinner and promises are to be kept." Mursa Shang held up a hand at Jyuni, who bowed. "Let us see what the kitchens have come up with."


    Jyuni took a step back and knocked twice on the wall behind them. A hidden door in the wall opened up, and out traipsed several mursashu wearing colorful robes and bearing trays of food. They walked out to the dining area behind Jyuni, who indicated which seated person should receive which tray.


    "For Shurra, daughter of the White Bear," Jyuni pointed, and a tray was set in front of Shurra. "We apologize for being unable to source fresh kirin this far south of the Northern Plains, but the cooks have replaced it in this stew with muskox rib, simmered with powdered root of anlleq to provide consistency, seaweed from the coast of HaiFeng, and sea salt from the White Coast is provided to taste. There is sourdough bread on your right, and for dessert a plate of diced apples drizzled in ice honey."


    Molam''s eyes flickered towards Shurra, whose face exposed none of her emotions aside from the set of her cheeks and a clenched jaw. Primrose caught his eye with furrowed brows ¡ª and he wondered if Primrose was reacting to what had just been revealed about Shurra, or the extent to which the Mursa had delved into their backgrounds.


    "For Kalle, son of the Blue Raven, the head cook decided you may be nostalgic for the taste of your homeland and prepared a similar set of dishes." Jyuni pointed and the tray was set in front of a bewildered Kalle. "The stone slab lies atop your invention of warming stones and can be used to grill the fresh cuts of silverfish, caught earlier today from iceholes in the River Jiang. To the side is a bowl of thick congee, a saucer of crushed rock salt, a saucer of apple vinegar for dipping, and on your left is a bowl of shaved ice topped with winter berries and condensed llama milk for dessert."


    "They''re not supposed to be used for grilling," Kalle complained in a low murmur, but Jyuni paid him no heed. Kalle''s pallid face seemed to reflect the color of the white condensed milk. Molam''s mind raced as he remembered hearing stories about Kalle''s tribe in Hjornheim ¡ª a tribe that had been scattered almost two decades ago. So Kalle was one of the Blue Ravens.


    "For Primrose, daughter of Teljumaya, we are pleased to say that our stores contained some dried lantern peppers and moon chilis sourced from the base of the World Tree. Unfortunately, none of the cooks are well-versed in the food preparation following the style of Teljumaya''s guardians after their disappearance more than two decades ago ¡ª therefore the head cook personally crafted this dish for you to take advantage of the unique taste of lantern pepper and moon chili found in your birthplace. He decided to poach wild poultry in oil derived from leymint, garnished with spring onions, garlic, and cabbage leaves, and recommends you add diced pepper or crushed chili to your tastes. There is flatbread stuffed with hummus and a saucer of moon chili oil to dip the flatbread in. Your dessert is a plate of mochi stuffed with black sesame, hand-ground into a fine paste."


    Perhaps Primrose had time to prepare, given what Jyuni had revealed when introducing Kalle and Shurra''s meals, but her face gave nothing away as the mursashu set the food in front of her. When the mursashu lifted the covering, a sweet and tingling scent of the spice permeated the room, causing Molam''s mouth to water. But Primrose''s red lips only pressed tightly together, almost to a thin line. Molam had no time to wonder about the meaning for Jyuni was walking towards him, and he braced himself as he realized that Shurra, Kalle, and Primrose''s eyes were following Jyuni''s approach.


    "For Molam, leader of the Dao and the Oracle''s chosen, we apologize for being unable to discover the tastes of your childhood. The Mursa has therefore elected that you enjoy the same food he will: a bowl of suimono made of freshly caught river bass, lemon slices, radish, and carrots, paired with flame-grilled beef slices topped over black rice mixed with quail egg. There is a side of blue river sturgeon poached in rice vinegar topped with thyme and goat butter, garnished with a side of sturgeon caviar."


    The tray was put in front of Molam, arranged neatly before him before Jyuni faced him specifically. "For dessert, a custard tart topped with a scoop of leymint and pomberry ice cream will be provided when you are finished ¡ª please note that the ice cream is to be kept outside to prevent it from melting until you are ready to consume it."


    Again, he resisted the urge to clutch at his chest as he realized he had been holding his breath. Looking around, he caught Kalle looking sheepishly away even as Shurra and Primrose stared pointedly at their meals. Molam exhaled slowly, feeling the throbbing pain in his ribcage.


    Jyuni had returned to Mursa Shang''s side before she continued rattling off. "And of course, hot tea will be served. We have two different selections tonight: satem tea, brewed from the petals of flowers that have bloomed, and furong tea, brewed from young budding leaves. For those that would prefer spirits, we have moon wine from Oasis, brewed from moonmelon in the moonlight of the Endless Sands, gold quality gaoliang from HaiFeng, distilled from their finest quality golden wheat, and lastly, chambanga ale from the Formosa Isles, refined from only their choicest chambanga from the last harvest."


    "Please, enjoy your dinner." With a tone of finality, Jyuni bowed fully and backed off to stand behind the Mursa.


    His companions all glanced at him, and Molam himself understood their stunned silence. He himself had many questions for his companions himself, but the Mursa''s gaze fell firmly on him.


    "Normally, I would entertain guests with a much better full course banquet," the Mursa''s eyes narrowed as he smiled at Molam, "But as I predicted that you are all eager to get to business discussion, I told the kitchens to stay their hand and prepare a more modest meal so that we can easily sate our appetites first without wasting too much time. I hope that all of you can forgive me for this humble repast."


    "There''s nothing to forgive," Primrose spoke first, her eyes briefly flickering to catch Molam''s gaze. "I must commend you, Mursa Shang, for such diligent preparation as host. It suggests that you''ve put much care and thought into ... looking into each of our pasts."


    The Mursa waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, standard affair for me in preparation for a potential business matter. And what better way to make it work in everyone''s favor than to offer up the services of the cooks I''ve bothered to employ? They do need to earn their keep, after all." He picked up his bowl of suimono, taking in the fragrance with his nose before sipping lightly at the broth. "Ah, the taste of the changing seasons. Please, this isn''t Oasis where you should wait for the host to begin eating first, dig in, dig in!"


    With trepidation, Molam picked up his own utensils and began eating, his eyes focusing on the food while his ears listened to what was happening at the table. Shurra had chosen a carafe of gaoliang while Kalle was holding up a glass for moon wine. Primrose had asked for some ice honey to mix with her furong tea.


    "Ahfsahfsafffapheww." Kalle sputtered as his mouth opened and closed in rapid succession. "It''s hot!"


    "An eager tongue only invites trouble, Kalle." Molam hid a smile.


    "Is that from Master Flangel?" Kalle sipped greedily at his chilled moon wine.


    "No." Molam felt his smile freeze. "From a friend."


    A mursashu bearing a tray with each of the drink options approached Molam, pulling his gaze away from Kalle. "What would you like to drink, honored guest?"


    "Satem tea, thank you."


    A teacup was set down on his tray and poured to the brim with the blue satem tea, adding the faint fragrance of satem flowers to his meal. Molam picked up the tea gingerly, careful to not spill, and sipped at it. He decided with immediate ease that it deserved its reputation. The floral scent invigorated his nose and the aroma was light and zesty, with an earthy aftertaste that invited him to drink more. Before he knew it, the cup was empty and the tea bearer rushed forward to refill his cup.


    The food itself was no less impressive on the tongue than it was on the eyes. Whereas the suimono served was merely an appetizer that whetted his appetite and warmed his body, the flame-grilled beef over egg-mixed with rice went down easily, combined with the lightly biting taste of vinegar-poached sturgeon and caviar to ensure that his mouth was repeatedly delighted by a different sensation. Whenever it felt as though the food was too heavy, the satem tea itself served to cleanse his palate and reawaken his hunger.


    Soon, his food was finished and all he was left with was a full stomach and the guilty reminder that if he failed tonight, half the city would starve before Spring''s Blessings. Looking about, he saw Shurra and Kalle nursing similarly full stomachs in front of clean plates, though Primrose seemed to have picked and chosen what she wanted to eat. The poultry had only been half-eaten and the flatbread remained untouched. However, it seemed Primrose had liked the mochi, for the plate had none left. For a brief moment, Molam wondered if it was as good as Jiovanny''s sweets, and the thought made him miss home even more.


    A hand extended forward, gemstones glittering in the light. "Care to join me for ice cream, Molam? In fact, there''s enough ice cream and custard tart for all should Kalle, Shurra, or Primrose also like to try some. Leymint and pomberrry is a wonderful mix I have taken quite a liking to."


    The ice cream was brought in on top of the custard tart and the Mursa picked up his spoon with an eager look in his eyes.


    "Did you enjoy the sturgeon, Molam?" the Mursa asked in between bites.


    "It was wonderfully fresh," Molam answered as he dug his spoon into the ice cream, ensuring that the custard tart was also carried as a base. The leymint lent a fresh aroma to the citrus taste of pomberry, and the custard tart provided a sweet and lingering aftertaste. "I assume it was caught today?"


    "Indeed, indeed it was. In fact," the Mursa paused to glance at Molam before continuing,


    "I caught it."


    "Quite the pastime for a Mursa, although I can understand not having much to do while you await for Spring''s Blessings."


    "Oh no, no! I enjoy fishing. A Mursa''s duties are quite demanding ¡ª meet people, talk to people, learn about people, negotiate with people, think about people¡­" his eyes fell onto Molam as he spooned another scoop into his mouth, then followed it with a spoonful of custard tart. "I spend so much time surrounded by people and thinking about them that I rarely have time for myself or my own thoughts. Fishing is a time where I can be alone ¡ª just me, a line, and the wits of a fish I am thinking of reeling in. Why, today''s sturgeon was quite the battle, if I may tell you all about it?"


    Molam saw Primrose''s eyes dart in his direction from his peripheral vision, but he kept his gaze upon the Mursa. "It would be quite rude of me to say no, having eaten the result of your victory."


    "Oh, it was quite the struggle. Do you know about blue river sturgeon? The ones in the River Jiang are such ferocious hunters." The spoon was pointed at Molam. "Do you fish much?"


    Molam''s mind raced as he hesitated in his response. He was unsure of what the Mursa was leading up to, but a nagging feeling in the back of his mind pushed through the contented satiety, a notion that made him tense up his back and adjust his sitting posture even as he answered. "No, I''m afraid to admit I don''t know much about fishing at all."


    "Ah, a shame, quite the shame! But allow me to tell you: normally, blue river sturgeon are quite difficult to catch with a line. They are prideful creatures, you see ¡ª they prefer eating that which they can hunt themselves. Even hungry, they are intelligent creatures: most blue river sturgeon would not eat the bait you put out because they are very distrusting. The only time you can catch a blue river sturgeon with a bait and hook is when they are unable to hunt for themselves, such as when they are injured from a fight or carrying roe. It is only at these times that a blue river sturgeon will be tempted by bait you put out."


    Primrose looked pointedly at Molam''s empty tray. "So¡­"


    "Yes, I''m sure you guessed." The Mursa''s black eyes were not looking at him right now, but at the ice cream as he scooped his spoon at it. "The blue river sturgeon I caught was not injured, thankfully, or it would have made for a poor meal. No, it was carrying a bellyful of the high quality caviar you also enjoyed."


    "Well, it''s understandable for sturgeon to still want to eat, no?" Kalle spoke up. Molam threw him a look but the alchemist wasn''t looking his way. "I''m not very knowledgeable about the topic, but I do know that few of the fish in the River Jiang have adjusted to hibernation through Winter''s Sorrow."


    "Oh no, of course it will still want to eat! I believe the only things that do not need to eat are spirits, but even that is simply a rumor, yes?" The Mursa held up his spoon, waving it about as he spoke to the alchemist. "I''m simply observing that it''s interesting that even the prideful sturgeon, when hurt or responsible for so many lives in its belly, will risk much to eat. I''ve made fishing my hobby for many years and I can tell you, these fish are among the most intelligent there are. You can''t hope to pull a blue river sturgeon without adequately understanding them; their habits, their wants, their needs..." his eyes fell onto Molam again as he smiled, but this time it was a toothy grin, "and indeed, the sort of bait you need to attract them. Isn''t it interesting how the right bait can attract something, even if it''s intelligent enough to know it is bait?"

 Ch 25: Promise

    Care about something you cannot control and soon find yourself to be its prisoner.


    ¡ª Meditations, by the Red Emperor


    <hr>


    Shurra made to stand up, and out of the corner of his eye Molam saw Primrose''s free hand slip beneath the table, her other hand shifting her grip on her knife. The gathered mursashu that had stood at the four corners of the room reacted as well, but Molam subdued Primrose and Shurra with a glance as the two women seemed halfway out of their seats. Shurra seemed reluctant, but Primrose sat back down and Shurra followed suit.


    When all was calm again, Molam sipped at his tea before asking the Mursa. "Have any fish ever escaped from you, Mursa Shang?"


    The Mursa chuckled. "A good fisherman does not lose a catch, once he has them hooked."


    "Well, I hope you consistently prove to be able to land the fish you hook, Mursa Shang, but there is a first time for everything." Molam caught the Mursa''s gaze then looked back down at his tea, swirling it around in its cup as he tried to recall how the Oracle spoke. He delivered his next words without a rushed cadence. "Even Mursa Khan boasted about never losing at dragon chess until he met me."


    The Mursa''s eyebrow raised just a bit. "You beat Mursa Khan at dragon chess?"


    "I suppose the loss of that wager was quite embarrassing for him, so much that he hid it so well even you don''t know about it." Molam returned the Mursa''s gaze over the rim of his teacup. "But indeed I did. You see, I needed safe passage into Crimson City''s Palace."


    "Crimson City''s Palace." The Mursa''s eyes no longer twinkled as he set down his spoon with an audible clink. The remains of his dessert forgotten, Mursa Shang''s full attention was on Molam now as he interlaced his fingers in front of him. His voice took on a lower, deeper tone and it seemed as if the mursashu that stood on guard took a step closer. "You were the one who stole from the Prince?"


    Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Primrose''s face pale, Shurra''s eyebrows met, and Kalle seemed confused, but Molam pretended to not see it. Instead, he ate the final piece of custard tart, making a show of savoring it before he responded. "How many people do you think know about this and can talk about it?"


    "I had heard of this but the Empire of the Sun was suspiciously quiet about the perpetrator¡­" the Mursa''s eyes glinted dangerously. "For Mursa Khan to guarantee safe passage into Crimson City''s Palace if he lost...What did you bet with Mursa Khan?"


    Molam looked at the Mursa straight in the eyes as he answered. "A meeting with the Oracle."


    Mursa Shang''s eyes narrowed as he snorted. "As though that is something you can guarantee."


    "Confirm it with your eyes as Mursa then," Molam''s heartbeat throbbed in his chest ¡ª pain or anxiety, he couldn''t differentiate. "Whether or not that is something I can wager."


    The Mursa was silent for a moment, before his black eyes glowed a golden color. "Can you wager ¡ª and deliver upon ¡ª a meeting with the Oracle?"


    Molam took a breath before responding, thinking about the phoenix. "I''ve already brought someone else to see the Oracle."


    It was another pause before the Mursa leaned back in his chair and the glow faded from his eyes. "You are indeed clad in a color that is only spoken of in stories."


    Molam''s lip twitched. "Would you like to take a similar wager?"


    "No, if you defeated Mursa Khan in dragon chess then I would have no chance." The Mursa held out his hands wide open, making a gesture at the room causing the mursashu with weapons to take a step back. "And here I thought I was the one prepared for this engagement. If you guarantee me a meeting with the Oracle, I will provide that which you came here for. Food and resources, enough for the city of JiangXi to survive Winter''s Sorrow."


    Molam drained his tea and held out the empty cup. "Clearly you don''t want this enough, Mursa Shang."


    The tea bearer came forward but stopped as the Mursa raised a finger. "Be careful how you speak to me, boy."


    "Oh, I am being quite careful." Seeing the tea bearer''s hesitation, Molam set the cup down and reached for Kalle''s carafe of moon wine to pour himself a cup. "That is, careful with my offer. Surely you don''t think a meeting with the Oracle can be bought with just food and resources?"


    He sipped at the moon wine as he waited for the Mursa''s response. It was light and clean, with a sweet fruity aftertaste that easily glided past his tongue but did not linger for long. "This is quite good."


    "I could offer you to the Prince and trade for quite the benefits." Mursa Shang''s voice was lower now, quiet and almost monotone. "I imagine the Prince would be interested in the leader of the rebellion in one of his own cities, one that dared to steal from him. Surely you know what happened to the one who declared himself King of Exabell a decade ago?"


    "If the mursashu are content with wandering the world for who knows how much longer, then so be it. Is whatever you can get from the Bloody Prince worth the continued wandering?"


    "A meeting with the Oracle only serves to answer a question we''ve sought the answer to for a long time." The Mursa glowered at him. "It does not solve the problem of our homeland of Mur."


    "No, but any continued working with the Bloody Prince and the Empire of the Sun truly does nothing to solve the problem the mursashu face, and indeed it only serves to exacerbate it."


    The Mursa closed his eyes and exhaled before stroking his chin in contemplation. "Expand on that."


    Molam refilled his cup again. "You taught me about fishing earlier ¡ª allow me to return the favor. There is a village beneath Spike Maelstrom, where their hunters venture into EarthShaker''s Lair to hunt."


    "I am aware of that village." The Mursa''s gaze did not leave his face even as the Mursa held out a cup to be filled as well.


    "Of course, EarthShaker is not a dragon to be trifled with. They are hunting in his Lair and Domain for nine-tailed foxes and pixiu that, rightfully, belong to the dragon. Yet the village still stands. Do you know why?"


    Sipping at his cup, the Mursa''s eyes glowed gold as he answered in a tone that indicated he was merely playing along with Molam''s question. "I would assume the village has an agreement with EarthShaker."


    "They do, indeed." Molam emphasized the word he borrowed from the Mursa. "A set amount of each creature is offered up to EarthShaker as tribute. It is the toll they pay for entry." Molam paused, his breath catching as his chest twinged with pain. He had talked too much, but now was not the time to arouse the Mursa''s suspicion. "The village is granted permission to hunt, and the dragon does not need to expend his own energy to hunt. They have been doing this for centuries, before the Red Emperor even killed DuskWing."


    "And?"


    "As we all know, DuskWing''s death brought about IceMourne''s rage, now known as Winter''s Sorrow. Even that village is not spared the spread of IceMourne''s enduring grief." Molam tapped a finger against the table as he beheld the Mursa''s glowing eyes. "Where they once had a full year to hunt, they now only have three seasons. Yet EarthShaker''s tribute must be paid."This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    "They seem to be doing quite well for themselves then, if they''ve managed to keep up on tribute payments for the past four centuries."


    "On the contrary, it is at a significant loss." Molam countered, pausing to grip his teacup as pain shot through his chest. "Winter''s Sorrow claims many lives each year, yet the bulk of their hunters are spending energy and time fulfilling their part of the covenant. The village now is merely a shadow of its former self, even though EarthShaker has not changed the terms of their agreement."


    Molam put more emphasis into his voice. "The mursashu have roamed the world since the fall of DuskWing as well, no? The Bloody Prince may not have caused the events that drove your people out from Mur, but what does the Empire of the Sun truly provide you aside from safe passage so long as you pay the toll?"


    Mursa Shang''s eyes narrowed. "If nothing changes, then nothing needs to be changed."


    "You know fully well that cannot be true forever. The same circumstances that worked for the village are now its shackles." Molam exhaled from his nose and paused, doing his best to keep the condescending tone from his voice. "No doubt you already know: the Bloody Prince wants the SunFlower, but do you know what else he needs to power it? There''s no need to look at Kalle; I can tell you ¡ª one of the great spirits or the soul of a dragon. He intends to use it against the Leviathan of ZhiXia and won''t risk any half measures." Molam set his cup down and leaned forward purposefully, giving the Mursa the full extent of his stare. "What if he succeeds like the Red Emperor? What if the next yearly catastrophe is not one the mursashu can survive?"


    The words echoed into silence.


    The Mursa breathed in deeply and returned Molam''s stare. "State what you want."


    "That which you''ve already offered, and the city''s allotment of elderwood in your possession. All of it." It was Molam''s turn to smile. "And a pact of neutrality, contractually guaranteed in your Title as Mursa."


    Mursa Shang''s eyes narrowed. "Mursa Khan gives away too many secrets."


    Molam shrugged at that. "We both needed a guarantee that the other would deliver after the wager. Don''t blame him ¡ª wouldn''t you want a binding agreement with me too, one that can force me to deliver?"


    "If I agree to this, I want to meet the Oracle upon Spring''s Blessings." The Mursa tapped his finger against the table, deep in thought. "When RainBringer spreads her Domain and IceMourne''s frost retreats, you will travel with us to Sanctuary and make good on your part of this bargain."


    A time constraint. Molam hesitated as he ran his thoughts over whether this would be a severe limitation for him if he hoped to lead the Dao. Truth be told, he had wanted to revisit the Oracle as soon as possible, and if he could secure the elderwood with the mursashu and bring that to ZhiXia, it would eliminate the need for having the members of the Dao be stretched for resources. If he considered it, the Mursa''s request could work out in his favor...but the problem lay in the absence of leadership. He looked at Primrose, the silent question in his gaze. She returned the look and nodded with an imperceptible tilt of her chin.


    He made to respond then stopped. What was he doing? Why was he thinking about the step after that? All he wanted was to go home, and then the Dao would have served their purpose to him. The mursashu could even bring the elderwood for him. He didn''t need to bind himself here any longer. The Oracle and RainBringer would get what they want. Primrose could lead the Dao in his absence. He could go home.


    Molam made his decision. "Agreed, but the mursashu will be obligated to move the elderwood to Sanctuary with me, and will guarantee my freedom and survival for the duration of this contract."


    "You have quite the voracious appetite when negotiating." Mursa Shang seemed deep in thought. He raised his right arm and pulled up his sleeve, placing his left hand over the tattoo as his right finger began drawing golden lines in the air.


    "One: the mursashu under Mursa Shang will provide all of the food and basic resources for the city of JiangXi, enough to survive through Winter''s Sorrow. This will end upon the thaw of Spring''s Blessings." The lines were drawn in a form of shorthand in the Old Tongue, yet flowed beautifully from one stroke to the next.


    "Two: Molam agrees to travel with Mursa Shang''s group upon the thaw of Spring''s Blessings, to Sanctuary and bring Mursa Shang into an in-person meeting with the Oracle. The mursashu under Mursa Shang will protect and move the World Tree''s elderwood alongside Molam to Sanctuary." The drawing for the World Tree was simple, yet even in art form the depiction towered in size before the Mursa clenched his hand and shrunk the paragraph.


    "Three: A pact of neutrality." The Mursa''s finger paused as he looked at Molam, then he continued. "Mursa Shang''s mursashu and the members of Molam''s Dao alliance will remain neutral whenever possible, with no acts of aggression. This pact of neutrality will last until Molam''s death."


    Molam frowned. The expiration that the Mursa had set was a double-edged sword for him. On one hand, it could be viewed as the Mursa selling him a favor: by attaching the pact of neutrality to his life, it cemented Molam''s position among the Dao. But at the same time, it meant that anyone who wished to enlist Mursa Shang''s help against the Dao would simply need to kill him first. He stopped his train of thought, reminding himself that he had no interest in staying with the Dao once he left and could go home.


    Mursa Shang''s eyes twinkled at him behind the glowing words in the air. "Is this acceptable?"


    "Add that the pact of neutrality is transferred to the next leader of the Dao upon my death or if I resign and pass it on. Additionally, it is to be inherited by the successors to your Title as Mursa."


    Mursa Shang''s lips curled. "That is too much, Molam. How do I know the Dao won''t mistreat my mursashu in the event you succeed and become a larger force?"


    "Then additionally, you may add that the Dao will give the mursashu the most favorable terms they give other groups when it comes to areas of trade and commerce."


    The Mursa seemed to be deep in thought before he raised his finger again, drawing the additional paragraphs. When he completed the binding contract, he raised both hands and condensed the written words into a circular disc and glanced at it. Apparently content with its contents, the Mursa clapped it between his hands before pulling it into two identical discs. Jyuni stepped forward, receiving one disc with both hands, and then walked to Molam''s side before presenting the binding contract to him.


    "Your review," the Mursa said in a low tone. "I assume you already know how to seal it."


    Molam held the glowing disc in his hand and looked at the glowing contents of the binding agreement. If he did this, there would be no going back. A contract guaranteed by a Mursa was also guaranteed by the Gods. Was this all he wanted, and all he could get from the mursashu? Was there something he had missed? Was there any way this could be turned around on him and act as an unwanted shackle? Would it hinder him from going home?


    "Is your knowledge of the Old Tongue lacking?"


    "No, I am simply a slow reader." Molam stood up and beckoned to Primrose. "Primrose is the leader of the Dao in the event of my fall, so we will be sealing this together."


    "That will be fine."


    Primrose came over to stand with him, and if he didn''t know her better he would not have picked up on her confusion. Giving her an encouraging nod, he put her left hand against his, then he placed the disc flat against her palm and raised their hands, matching the Mursa''s movements. "We accept the terms of your contract."


    "So it will be done."


    The discs flickered and a stream of light shone between the two, thin at first before expanding into a thick beam that connected their palms. It was a brilliant light, one that easily overpowered the light of the lanterns and it was a breathtaking moment before the beam of light flared out and disappeared with barely a lingering glimmer.


    Molam almost relaxed his shoulder, letting go of Primrose''s hand. It had been smaller than he expected, but he had seen how expertly she wielded blades. She pulled her hand away, seemingly rubbing at her palm. "The contract?"


    "It''s not gone." Molam reassured her. "It''s just ¡­ set in motion."


    "Indeed, it is now active." Mursa Shang smiled at them. "Well, it shall be time to make good on the contract. Jyuni, see to it that Gyota and Tokka know what I have guaranteed as Mursa. Tomorrow, we will distribute the ¡ª"


    "Molam, look!" Kalle''s finger shot out, pointing at the window. Everyone''s gaze tore from the Mursa to the window that Kalle was pointing at and several people gasped. It was still night, yet the skies were bright, brighter than the light that had just sealed their contract. There was small wonder that the sealing of the contract had distracted them from the bright light.


    Molam glanced quickly to the other set of windows, and saw that the light was only from the northwest side of the ship. The southeastern side of the ship was still dark.


    The Mursa barked orders, and the mursashu swiftly opened the doors and ran out to look at the bright sky. "That''s not possible," murmured Kalle.


    "What do you know about this, alchemist?" the Mursa demanded. "Has the Sun finally begun rising from the west?"


    "That''s¡­" Kalle shook his head, eyes transfixed upon the skies. "I ¡ª"


    "Mursa Shang, Kalle is a member of the Dao alliance and you just sealed a contract with us." Molam stepped in encouragingly. "Kalle, what is it? Do you know something?"


    "That''s from Techoria''s direction, isn''t it?" Kalle demanded confirmation from Molam, tears in his eyes. Bewildered, Molam could only nod. The alchemist turned back to look at the light and moaned with grief. "That''s the light of the SunFlower."

 Ch 26: Light

    One must not think that good intentions beget good results.


    The Gods made the world crueler than that.


    ¡ª Excerpt from Meditations, by the Red Emperor


    <hr>


    Somewhere in the Slumbering Forest, bordering the Northern Plains and Techoria City


    Tagga whistled in awe at the sight of the night sky being brighter than day, shielding his eyes with a large hand as he squinted at the horizon. He kicked a rock down the cliff they were camped upon, watching it drop down into the Slumbering Forest below before returning his clear blue eyes to the skies. "Alchemists, ey? To think they can turn night into day. Perhaps the Twin Stars were right to ask that Raven whelp to make a foray into alchemy."


    Pakku stood by Tagga''s side at the cliff''s edge, still and silent. Unlike Tagga''s cropped light blonde hair, Pakku''s sandy-colored hair draped down to his shoulders in elegant braids and his free hand was absentmindedly rubbing a braid with his fingers as he observed Techoria from afar. Peering with his left eye through a circle he made with his thumb and index fingers, Pakku only kept one gray eye open as he looked far away at the city of Techoria bathed in a brilliant inferno of light.


    "Well? Do you think it was enough to kill the Prince?"


    Pakku shook his head. "I''m not sure. The blast seems contained, somehow." He shrugged. "Could be the SunFlower''s barrier. Could be something else."


    "But is he alive?" Tagga squatted down near Pakku. "Come now, share with me what you See."


    "There isn''t enough information to make a decision."


    "So it''s still possible he could have escaped that blast?" Tagga began to brush the divine snow off his thick fur coat, but then stopped to admire the way the luminescent motes became flecks of silver against the brown fur. "We could take an opportunity if there is one."


    "An opportunity against him?" Pakku shook his head, his eye still squinting through his fingers at the horizon. "He''s injured at best."


    "I didn''t know Ravens were afraid of wounded prey."


    "But Ravens always knew Oxen tend to misjudge situations." Pakku turned to look at Tagga, closing his left eye and opening his right. "You want to be his next tattoo, then go. No Mother would mourn the loss of your bloodline."


    Tagga''s guttural guffawing echoed loudly through the air. "A few of your sister Ravens certainly disagree, ey?"


    "Are you going or too afraid now?"


    "Earlier you said the Eclipse and WildFire are both at that camp, didn''t you?" Tagga shot Pakku a sly look as he began collecting their things. "Two for two of us."


    "I''m not going. Some glaciers aren''t meant to be scaled by ourselves, Tagga." Pakku peered at the fading light as far, far away the dome of light flickered into nothingness. "Don''t weigh me down with your ignorant choices. The Twin Stars must know what we''ve seen."


    "A shame, ey. Shame." Tagga shook his head, "If only ¡ª"


    The two of them swung their heads upward, immediately alert. Tagga gestured at their campfire, smothering it without even emitting the vestige of ghostly smoke. Without the light, darkness immediately cloaked their temporary campsite and their eyes adjusted in dim glows.


    Moments later, a strong gust of wind blew overhead and both of them saw a shadow fly through the sky towards the Red Army''s encampment.


    They waited for the wind to die down before Pakku gestured northwards. Tagga nodded, and the two men leapt from the cliff, vanishing into the night.


    ***


    Red Army Encampment, Outside of Techoria


    The Red Army had set out an encampment one league outside the walls of Techoria, neatly arranged rows of tents in a gridlike pattern made for easy traversal. Though IceMourne''s divine snow fell down from the skies, a fiery Domain enclosed the encampment and none of the snow fell within. It was dawn when the wind picked up speed, blowing in with a gale-like force and causing the soldiers on guard duty to mill about.


    Rei descended from the skies and stepped onto the snow right outside of the barrier. She flicked her fan, slamming a wall of air through the entrance and blowing it wide open for her. Multiple soldiers came out to engage her but a flick of her wrist sent them flying into the tents as she marched into the encampment.


    "You should treat our people more carefully, Rei. With a murderous aura like that, it''s no wonder the soldiers were on guard."


    She didn''t stop or turn at the voice that echoed throughout the encampment. "Should I care about those that never learn to distinguish between me and an enemy, Jett? You''d think they would recognize me by now." She continued marching forward even as Jett dropped from the shadows to match her stride. "I saw the SunFlower''s explosion on my way here. How is he? Is he hurt?"


    "Ruskru has just brought him back, so I haven''t seen him yet." Jett stood much taller than her, his longer legs comfortably matching up with her swift stride. The auburn-red hair that he kept short glowed iridescently in the light of his flame barrier, reminding Rei of something she would need to ask him about when she had the chance. But that wasn''t important right now.


    "So he was injured?" Rei snapped.


    Jett gave her a sideways look. "You should watch your tone with me while you walk within my Domain, no?"


    "As though I would care about your hurt feelings." Rei snorted. "Don''t you know I''m only tolerating your Domain because it keeps these useless soldiers from freezing to death? Why didn''t you or Ruskru join him? Do they call you WildFire just for show?"


    "The Prince always told you to choose your words wisely, Rei. Very interesting word choice for the weakest out of all of us."


    Rei bristled. "''Weakest,'' is it? Come to think of it, Roxxa intervened to save you the last time we had a spar, didn''t she?" Rei''s hand strayed close to her fan. "How about you tell me why neither you nor Ruskru were with the Prince in Techoria?"


    A spark danced between Jett''s fingers before he blew it out with a lengthy exhale. Then his eyes flickered back to Rei. "The Prince forbade us to. Actually, he entered Techoria under a temporary truce for discussion, proposed by Flangel the Wise. Ruskru and I wanted to follow, but he said it was a matter of sincerity, given his relationship with the Master Alchemist." Jett clenched a fist then, his gloved hand covered with flame. "And they used that sincerity. They lied to separate him from us. But it doesn''t matter now. Techoria is in ruin and everyone in the city was caught in the SunFlower''s blast."


    Rei lifted a hand and then set it down again quickly. "So¡­"


    "So?"


    "Marlo." Her expression seemed pained. "WindShaper. Is he¡­?"


    "We haven''t entered Techoria, but Ruskru only came back with the Prince after the SunFlower''s explosion cleared." Jett shrugged, then gave her a pointed look. "WindShaper chose his fate when he refused to serve the Prince. Your martial brother knew the risks when he sided with Techoria."


    Rei did not pause in her stride as they came upon the largest tent in the middle of the encampment. "Marlo was a fool. A kind, stupid fool."


    Jett held open the tent flap for the two of them. "As the Prince would say, this world the Gods created makes fools of us all."


    They encountered Ruskru coming out of the back room, bearing a hooked staff with a ruby crystal embedded in its tip. Tall, with dark eyes and thick black hair that he had tied up in a bushy ponytail, the Titled One known as the Eclipse wore a comfortable black kurta that fell down to his knees, trimmed with white and gold. A red sash wrapped around his waist, loose ends flowing just beyond his right knee.


    "Is that¡­Flangel''s Staff? I''m surprised the Prince recovered it." Jett made a move to push past Ruskru, but Ruskru''s arm held out to block him.


    "No." Ruskru''s voice made it clear that it was not up for debate. "The Prince is ¡­ sleeping."


    Rei clutched at her fan and Jett took a step backwards, hands in a defensive position. "Sleeping?"


    "Only just entered his slumber, so we should have nothing to worry about. Yet. The SunFlower lives up to its legacy as Flangel the Prodigy''s greatest achievement and Flangel the Wise''s greatest regret." Ruskru''s eyes shifted to Rei. "It''s good to see you, Rei, but is there a reason you''ve abandoned JiangXi? Or did you recover what was stolen?"


    "Neither. The bandits I found in the Slumbering Forest knew nothing about the stolen egg and I fought their Titled leader to a standstill. I didn''t lose, if that''s what you want to know." Rei crossed her arms at Ruskru''s raised eyebrow. "No, I left because that City Lord from Oasis signaled for help. By the time I returned to JiangXi, I found the city''s group of insurgents began calling themselves the Dao and had taken the City Lord hostage. I engaged them, but IceMourne brought Winter''s Sorrow in the middle of the fight and it swiftly became disadvantageous for me after a fight with another Titled One. JiangXi is lost for now ¡ª but the residents can suffer the unruly rule of the inexperienced before we reclaim it come Spring''s Blessings."


    "That''s a lengthy recounting of how you retreated in front of the enemy." Jett blew a spark at her. "I believe we call that losing, Rei."


    "I didn''t lose." Rei grit her teeth at him, the spark dissipating before it could reach her. "Did you not hear? I wasn''t going to fight a disadvantageous fight."


    "What would you call losing control of JiangXi then, if not a loss?"


    "Enough." Ruskru''s voice did not raise but the force embedded within the word sent a tingle down Rei''s back. "Both of you should stop bickering as though you are still children. Rei, simply tell me if the situation in JiangXi takes any priority right now."


    Rei gave Jett a silent glare but she faced Ruskru. "This isn''t the first group of insurgents we''ve stamped down, and neither do any of them seem capable of being Titled. It''s not a priority since they may be confused ¡ª the leader of the Dao seems to believe the Prince gifted JiangXi to the Lord of Sands, and I think he may believe there is a new alliance. I didn''t correct the misconception."


    "I''m curious about what gave this new group the courage to try, but it sounds less important than the matters at hand. We will discuss the matter of JiangXi later." Ruskru''s attention turned back to Jett. "You know what to do. Evacuate the Red Army as soon as possible."


    "It''s the middle of Winter''s Sorrow." Rei hated looking up at the two of them, lifting herself up to Ruskru''s eye-level.


    "Rei is right. A forced march at this time would be brutal for the soldiers." Jett frowned, stuffing his hands into his coat pockets.


    Ruskru shook his head. "Some would die, but it would be better than them being in this area if the Prince were to suddenly wake up. Or were you suggesting that the three of us combined could contain the fallout within this tent when the Prince wakes?"


    Rei''s face paled and the air around Jett flared with anxiety. "Do we know¡­ how long?" Jett asked in a low voice, a hand worrying at the hem of his clothes. "If he wakes up before Spring''s Blessings, we might not have enough time to call over the others and contain the damage."


    "Teljumaya was six months, but we don''t really know what keeps him asleep, do we? His body is already fully healed, and perhaps his slumber is the cost." Ruskru''s eyes closed and his brows furrowed in thought. "As for calling over the others, we won''t need to. We only needed to contain the fallout in Teljumaya because too many others lived there. Now with Techoria gone, if we move the Red Army far enough there should be no issue. The decision is clear. The closest city is Crescent City. Jett, you will protect the Army with your Domain on your way there with Rei''s help; the two of you can spread the burden of keeping the soldiers alive."


    "Is that it? The Prince gave us no other orders before he went into slumber?" Rei struggled to contain her anxiety. "If it''s a matter of guarding while we wait for him to wake, I can ¡ª"


    "That was an order. Your arrival was unplanned, Rei, and I understand you''ve lost JiangXi. I''m sure you had your reasons, but failure is failure. Now is not the time to be selfish." Ruskru closed his eyes slowly, then opened them and asked her in a solemn voice. "There was a second order. Do you know what we came here for?"


    "The SunFlower."


    "Yes, the SunFlower. But now it''s gone. Master Flangel was quite cheeky for one who held the Title of being the Wise. The design diagrams for the SunFlower are not found even in his Staff."


    "So, it''s over?" Jett crossed his arms. "We came all this way for nothing? The Prince said that the SunFlower was necessary to fight the Leviathan. None of us was there to experience it, but the SunFlower managed to send the Prince into slumber. That was all the proof we needed of its strength and now it''s just¡­gone?"Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    "Not quite. The Prince said that Flangel''s Ring is missing." Ruskru ran a finger over the gemstone embedded in the Staff. "I searched Flangel''s Staff and found nothing related to the SunFlower. Alchemists are prideful. They would never truly destroy all of their research. The Prince thinks that the design diagram is still in Flangel''s Ring, or it is with the Prodigy."


    "The Prodigy?" Rei frowned, trying to remember. "You mean the youngest¡­"


    "Yes. Allegedly, she turns six years old this year, but don''t let that fool you. The Oracle personally bestowed that Title to her." Ruskru tapped a finger against Rei''s forehead, "Though, that is an issue for another time. Your main goal right now is to help Jett move the Red Army to safety. I will stay here to dissuade any potential people from thinking they can take advantage of the Prince while he recovers. After that, we can find Nettie, the current Prodigy." Ruskru''s voice lowered. "I am not the Prince but someone must lead. Will both of you offer me your hearts?"


    Rei glanced at Jett, who did not look back at her. Though miffed, she did not force a discussion. Neither of them cared to challenge Ruskru''s leadership while the Prince slumbered.


    "I offer up my heart." Jett bowed his head.


    Rei joined him, aligning her bow towards where she sensed the Prince''s faint aura behind Ruskru. "I offer up my heart."


    Ruskru''s hands found the two of theirs.


    "Though only temporary, I accept."


    ***


    Inner Sanctum, Sanctuary, ZhiXia City


    The ink in the message had not yet dried, but the Oracle appreciated that the Head Priestess of JiangXi responsible for leaving messages had a habit of keeping her messages simple and to the point.


    New leadership. Resources accounted for. Negotiated with mursashu. Return to Sanctuary upon Spring''s Blessings. Cerelia.


    Unfortunately, this Head Priestess'' brush strokes were less refined and controlled compared to the message the Oracle had read earlier, and that one had been clearly written in haste.


    With a dip of her finger into the scrying bowl, she sent ripples cascading towards the edges as the image faded away. Only when the water was still again did she shake a sleeve and allow a burnt-orange feather to float out.


    "Molam succeeded."


    The feather dipped close to the water before drifting to the edge of the bowl as though carried by a sudden gust of wind and began to glow.


    Of course he did. I was involved.


    "Your confidence contradicts your anxiety during the period of time since you lost connection with the feather you had given him."


    Perhaps you were mistaken.


    Silence fell between them as the Oracle chose to not pursue the subject, contemplating what she had learned in the meantime. The message from before floated into her mind, black ink on white paper written in precise calligraphy. Techoria destroyed. Red Army moving. Prince slumbers.


    The Prince had made a public move for the first time in decades and another city had been destroyed. The Oracle lingered for a moment on the thought, wondering if she should be feeling more for the people that had died. Techoria was just the latest city that disappeared and she felt comparatively more numb than ever before, as though she had simply accepted the loss. Another loss in a long line of losses, counted more in cities than the number of lives. What had these lives been traded for?


    Are you thinking about the boy or the situation in Techoria?


    The Oracle twitched. "Both. Flangel failed but it was not entirely unexpected." The Oracle''s eyes glittered behind the mask. Flangel had understood her, even if they had disagreed. "Are you certain about what the spirits are whispering?"


    I cannot ascertain anything, only what they are whispering. The Prince is still alive, but he was forced into slumber.


    "Then the spirits have confirmed it, if only indirectly." The Oracle''s mask seemed dark despite the brilliance of her white glow, and a moment passed before she answered. "So now we shall see what Molam will do when he comes back."


    To do what? Have you forgotten you must make do without the boy?


    "...That will depend on him."


    No. The feather''s glow became a kaleidoscope of livid red and apoplectic orange, before settling back on a pulsing yellow that receded into the color of a late sunset. You made him a promise.


    "And he will be able to return to the Castle in the Sky. He came down once. He can do so again."


    Do not force him again. The spirit''s voice became insistent. He should only help you by his own choice.


    "I think he will surprise you."


    What makes you say that?


    "In the battle with the Tempest, he begged you to save the others."


    ¡­ Not because he bonded with them. I expect he thought he would need them to move all the elderwood. He can''t do that by himself.


    "Perhaps. Worry not, I will respect his decision. But at the same time, you should not force him to waste away, sequestered from the world."


    You should not apply your own regrets unto others.


    "He will be afforded the opportunity to decide on his own," the Oracle reiterated, "So long as neither of us overtly influences him otherwise. And I am preparing for the possibility of Molam choosing to leave forever."


    Oh have you now?


    "Yes. I sent Ji to collect Yao-ren on his way to escort Molam back here."


    That is you influencing him with two Titled Ones.


    The Oracle did not flinch at the spirit''s accusatory tone. "It is not the primary intent. Merely the level of importance which we place on getting Molam back safely. With the World Tree''s elderwood, you can rebirth sooner rather than later."


    The feather''s glow pulsed. Moments passed, then the spirit''s voice seemed calmer in the Oracle''s head. I see you no longer refer to him as a child.


    The observation made the Oracle pause as she peered back into the scrying bowl. Darkness greeted her, splashed with wisps of red. So even in slumber, the Prince guarded himself against her scrying.


    "Molam has succeeded twice," she acknowledged, "And I believe he can do it again. All I can do is sow the seeds and hope that tomorrow, something grows."


    You ask too much of someone who has already given all he has.


    "No, I do not. Did you forget? I was once human too." She lifted a finger over the bowl and a solitary drop of water fell down the middle, breaking the still waters. "You might believe he has already done all he can, but a small droplet can disturb the surface of a very large lake."


    The darkness rippled and became clear, showing a mountain''s frosty peak. At the tip of the mountain extended a structure of ice, frozen in the midst of an eruption with cascading ice sheets that came together to look like a giant light-blue rose.


    ***


    The Slumbering Forest


    The pixiu held its black wings over Yao-ren''s head as he rolled the boulder uphill in the snow. The sheer cold of Winter''s Sorrow seeped into his aching bones but he dug his feet deeper into the frozen earth, his hands pushing relentlessly against the gray stony surface. IceMourne''s Domain drained him of his strength, but what of it? This was his punishment.


    When he had pushed the boulder to the top of the hill, he took a moment to rest as he gazed at the graves he had dug. Forty-nine graves in total, all but one filled.


    His bond snorted, wisps of vapor evacuating from its nostrils as its snout reached forward to push the boulder with him.


    "Nocturne, don''t." Yao-ren spoke up. The sensation of needing to speak to his bond unsettled him. He had temporarily limited their connection so that his grief would not spill over but Nocturne''s misery pulsed through their muted connection. "Your leg is injured. Just keep the snow off me."


    Noir''s hooting echoed through the trees, punctuating the ebb and flow of the owl''s anguish through their limited connection. With a snort, Nocturne lifted its head away and shook the collected snow off its black wings. Yao-ren placed both hands against the rock''s surface and renewed his push.


    When the boulder had been positioned at the head of the grave, Yao-ren flipped it into an upright position with a grunt and then shoved it into place. He had placed markers earlier in the snow to ensure it would be centered. Seeing that he had set it correctly, Yao-ren then pushed against the boulder from several different angles until he was satisfied with its stability. Only EarthShaker could move it now.


    The final step''s difficulty lay not in the act but the unavoidable torrent of memories. Steeling the front of his finger with aura, Yao-ren knelt down and began pressing into the boulder''s face to carve out their names. Yuechi, who loved to make soup and experimented for them every week. Nydal, who blushed when the women complimented his lustrous dark hair. Mikhael, who always joked about his lazy eye as the one that did all the seeing¡­ As each stroke of his finger etched an open gash upon the rock''s surface, their voices and faces dredged themselves up in his mind.


    He had found each of them ¡ª no, they had each found him ¡ª and together, they had found warmth.


    Yet he had let the Tempest get away without avenging them. The grief latched itself into him in ways he could not shake and as it buried itself ever deeper it found a fearsome ally. A memory long buried raised itself like a submerged beast along the back of his thoughts. A dome of dark light held Yao-ren back as he tried in vain to claw through the Domain to reach his parents. Behind them, the city of Kamisukawa burned and a solitary figure watched in silence as flames spread from its hands high above the skies.


    "Is it finished?" The low voice came from behind him. It shook Yao-ren out of his reverie, and he blinked at the last name carved ¡ª his own. His fingertip throbbed with pain but something felt missing. Yao-ren looked up at the top of the names and carved out the final words: The Unseen.


    "May God Yven guide them." The voice behind him rumbled.


    "May God Yven receive them." Yao-ren intoned in kind. He stood up and turned to see the Whale of ZhiXia, Ji, stand up. A broad-brimmed straw hat covered the man''s head and the collected snow fell down the brim, falling around the man''s large frame as he brushed off the snow. The man wore short sleeves despite the bitter cold yet seemed unphased by it ¡ª his bare right arm carried the tattoo of a tiger while his bare left arm carried the tattoo of a whale.


    The Titled One had arrived while Yao-ren had just finished digging up each of the graves with his bare hands and offered to help. After Yao-ren had refused the offer, Ji had quietly waited for Yao-ren to finish without complaint.


    "Why did you include your own name?" asked Ji. "You aren''t dead yet."


    Yao-ren clenched his fist, feeling the throbbing in his finger. Many answers flitted through his mind and he discarded them all until he found the one that felt least like grief. "So that this isn''t a gravestone until I come back." He pointed to the last, empty grave. "If what you told me is true, there is a good chance someone will need to bring me back here."


    "You don''t need to go." Ji''s black eyes looked at Yao-ren, his voice calm. "If none of us survive, no one can bring you back here. You can still choose."


    "Choice." Yao-ren''s soft voice exuded derision. "The surest path to regret."


    "But you''ve done nothing worth regretting."


    "We did. Or at least, I did." Yao-ren collected his items. "It was my idea to target the Empire''s merchants, and it seems we finally stole something that caused the Empire to take notice, enough for the Tempest to show up." He shook his head as he wrapped his clothes around his body. "I should have done better. But that''s all in the past now. I will come with you."


    Ji''s eyes seemed unmoved. "Having lived a life of regret, I can tell you now that it is not a life worth living."


    "There are no right choices in life then." Yao-ren''s voice hardened. "Only wrong or worse. And this feeling, right now ¡ª" He clutched at his chest as he looked down, eyes staring at the grave closest to him. Krista, who loved to brush Nocturne''s fur. "I no longer want to choose wrong. Only worse." His eyes met Ji''s again. "If the Oracle thinks there''s a chance, then I want to see this Molam for myself."


    ***


    JiangXi


    Shurra unwrapped the last of the bandages around her thigh and set it to the side. With a light finger, she gently touched the freshly tattooed skin underneath. Agytha''s sword had left a white scar on her skin, puffy and uneven. Now it acted as a representation of the clouds. Underneath its falling snow roared a victorious white bear with a bleeding leg, the body of a viper laying at its feet.


    "So, what do you think?" Kalle picked up the bandages and stuffed them into a bag, then threw it into a fire. "Did it turn out well?"


    "Your idea for using the scar as clouds was quite inspired." Shurra praised grudgingly.


    "I''m glad you like it." Kalle undid his gloves and threw them into a bag marked "dirty." "Is that enough for you to go back to the Hearthome?"


    Shurra snorted. "As if. Agytha was strong, but that Tempest¡­" She closed her eyes. "The next time I see her, I won''t be so helpless."


    "She toyed with you while she was weak." Kalle said in a flat tone.


    "I had just finished a fight too. But yes, it''s no excuse. I aim to do better. Agytha is just the start." Shurra looked at Kalle, her eyes flickering to his undecorated scar. "Or you could. If you get such an achievement, they must accept you back. And then you can change it from within."


    "What makes you think I want to go back?" Kalle said sharply, then stood up and sighed. "It doesn''t matter. My new place is here now. Changing this is far more important."


    Shurra shrugged, then changed the subject. "Do we know what we''re doing now?"


    Kalle hesitated before answering. "Molam''s been quiet, but apparently he''s returning to ZhiXia City with Mursa Shang''s mursashu come Spring''s Blessings. I believe he wants Primrose to lead while he''s gone."


    "All by himself?" Shurra frowned. "We don''t know if he''ll return perfectly fine. The Tempest''s seen him. What does Primrose say about this?"


    ***


    "I kept its shape, like you asked," the blacksmith unfolded the oiled black cloth with his large, meaty hands to show Primrose the dagger. The straight blade gleamed in the well-lit smithy.


    Primrose picked up the dagger, hefting its balance and swiping at the air twice in quick succession, the metal flashing in the air, then the blacksmith flinched as she buried it into the wooden table.


    "It will suffice." Primrose dropped a bag of coins on the table. "I appreciate your craftsmanship."


    "I did my best to balance its weight with the hilt, but you''ll need time to adjust to its shape in battle, lass. This speartip is a fundamentally different shape than your other daggers." The blacksmith produced a leather sheath with a strap and slid it over to Primrose before pulling the bag of coins towards himself. "I wouldn''t want something I made to get you killed because of your stubbornness."


    "I appreciate your concern." Primrose glanced at the word stamped into the leather sheath. Duty. "I see you managed to fit in the name too."


    "Normally a weapon''s name should go on the blade," the blacksmith explained, "


    But as you instructed me to leave the blade as untouched as possible, I opted to place it on the sheath instead. Will that work for ya?"


    "It will do. I like it." Primrose pulled the dagger out of the table and sheathed it, then the sheathed dagger disappeared up a sleeve. "Thank you for taking on this order for me with such short notice."


    She turned to walk out, but the blacksmith asked in a low voice, "What will the Dao do now?"


    Pausing for a moment, Primrose considered the question as she turned back to him, noting his furrowed bushy eyebrows. "Our leader says he is going home. All new roads must be well-traveled, and so the Way will follow."


    "But what about JiangXi?" the blacksmith asked.


    "JiangXi will be well cared for. When you sow the seeds of tomorrow, you must start somewhere." Primrose opened the door and left.


    ***


    Somewhere in the snow


    A little girl stumbled through the snow, using a hand to pin her cloak tightly around herself against the chilly wind of Winter''s Sorrow. A sudden gust of wind blew straight against her face, blowing open her hood and revealing the black curly hair and dark skin that swiftly became covered with luminous snow. With a swift reach, she snatched the hood back over her head and pulled it over her face, bending down to blow her heated breath into her freezing fingers.


    The bitter cold bore into her bones and she reasoned away the temptation to use a warming stone in case the Red Army was searching for her. The cloak served to mask warmth but¡­she huffed again into her numb fingers.


    On her index finger, a ruby gleamed against its golden inset and seemed to dredge up the echo of Grandfather Flangel''s last command.


    "Deliver my Ring to Head Scholar Panmoru at the Fallen Star Pavilion. He will understand. If the Empire would take it from you, destroy it instead."


    Nettie puffed her cheeks and exhaled onto her fingers one last time before standing up again, checking a compass for her bearings before setting off south-east.


    Nettie would do what Grandfather Flangel had asked.

 Ch 27: Mourne

    Though we approach the Gods for deliverance from suffering, sometimes results must be seized with our own hands. We fight through the darkness in the hopes that those who come after us no longer need to. So we are resolved to die, sowing the seeds of tomorrow with our lives, watering it with our blood and fertilizing it with our bodies.


    For the children that come after us: we wish for you to have found peace in the light we intend to build.


    ¡ª Fragment of an ancient mural bearing the faded insignias of the Hero''s Companions. Translated by the Fallen Star Pavilion.


    <hr>


    JiangXi City


    Molam placed the last cream-colored parchment onto the stack of finished reports on his left and rubbed at his temples, willing in vain for the headache to go away. The candle on his desk flickered innocently in the dimly lit study, the aroma of leymint and sandalwood permeating the air. Molam''s swimming vision challenged Primrose''s choice of incense; she had said it was good for focus.


    The momentary distraction from his work reawakened the dull soreness in his lower back. Bernad the healer, perhaps at Primrose''s direction, nagged at him almost daily about his health ¡ª yet both Bernad and Kalle refused to prepare a sleeping draught powerful enough to free Molam from the worries that kept him up at night. His pillow had not known warmth for days now despite the healer pressing a strongly worded recommendation to avoid working so late into the night.


    But when the chilling darkness of Winter''s Sorrow enveloped JiangXi each evening, every shadow on the wall reminded Molam of Lyka''s empty stare and Agytha''s accusing glare from that night. Molam could only escape into temporary solace by puzzling away the incomplete records and ledgers left behind by JiangXi''s previous City Lord, dead at his command.


    The Liberation of JiangXi. Or that''s how the event became known in the city. Molam had heard whispers of other names of less savory reputation bandied about, but Primrose had recommended he quash them immediately. Kalle had protested, but a failed arson attempt on the Dao''s gathering spot solidified Molam''s decision to allow Primrose to influence public sentiment with a discreet and gentle hand. He did not need an unruly citizenry added to his growing list of tasks ¡ª or nightmares.


    With the Empire''s presence gone and Winter''s Sorrow in full swing, Molam had dreaded the task of convincing the citizens to accept the Dao. But when the Dao had found the majority of the City''s citizens ready for new governance, Molam grudgingly decided he had Agytha''s draconian methods to thank. JiangXi''s citizenry were more than grateful for the Dao''s decidedly generous ¡ª or, comparatively generous ¡ª distribution of goods and resources to keep people warm and well-fed.


    In hindsight, he admitted he should have foreseen the easy transition of power, but he did not regret overly preparing. Though he had read all of Agytha''s notes ¡ª or at least, the ones that had survived the City Lord Mansion''s burning ¡ª he had found little to no information as to why she had done the things she had done. The notes had only reaffirmed her true allegiance to Oasis and referred to some deal with the Empire, but any actual details were scant or beyond his understanding. A sensation gnawed relentlessly at his thoughts, the fear that he was overlooking something fundamental about controlling this city that belonged to the Empire. But whenever he sat down to search through all of the tattered ledgers and bookkeeping, no answers came up. Only more questions.


    Another reason to avoid sleep. Molam glanced at the stack of reports he had finished reading, as though the information he wanted could be summoned out of the pages. In the weeks since the Liberation of JiangXi, he had spent his spare time not sleeping by poring over hundreds, perhaps thousands of salvaged reports of the comings and goings of JiangXi, not just during this Winter''s Sorrow but also from the past few years. Even the tireless Shurra had complained to Molam about repeatedly diving into the frozen River Jiang in search of any leftover records blown away by the destruction, but Molam had placated her. He needed that information.


    The more he tried to understand what led up to Agytha''s control of JiangXi, the more something felt wrong. Molam closed his eyes, rubbing the tips of his fingers against his temples again. The migraine worsened and the shadows flickered against the wall, a grim reminder of the first time he had ignored the feeling of something being off and burned for it.


    But what was wrong? Molam couldn''t quite place a finger on it. Why had Agytha done what she did? Why had she been given the authority to do so?


    He stared at a map of the world pinned on the wall. If Molam remembered his history lessons, the Prince had condemned the Lord of Sands to life in the Endless Sands after defeating him in the War of Crowns. Several decades after that, the Frozen Saint''s Rebellion had seen the Prince personally kill the Spear and Shield of Oasis, the Lord''s two children. Everything pointed to Oasis and the Empire being on less-than-friendly terms.


    And yet, the Empire seemed to have abandoned JiangXi''s citizens to their fate at Agytha''s hands. The Prince''s seal had even been involved.


    Why? Molam only had questions, and he did not know how to begin answering any of them. Those who could have answered him were both dead. And one had burned most of the evidence he could find.


    He pinched the bridge of his nose, glaring at the stacks of books and reports neatly arranged in the bookshelf to his right. It felt as though he had sat down to a dragon chess board already in play, but he was not allowed to see where any of the pieces were. And while he contemplated his moves, the players in the dark had a knife to his throat.


    Catching himself mid-thought, Molam clenched a fist. All he had to do was deliver the World Tree''s elderwood to the Oracle to go home. He was neither playing to win nor lose, only to survive. So long as he survived, and returned home, the board would no longer matter to him.


    But the nagging feeling that he was overlooking something critical would not go away. That, and the stacks of papers on his desk reminding him of all that needed to be done before they could return to ZhiXia. Before he could go home.


    A knock on the door pulled him out of his reverie. Molam looked up as two runners came in, each carrying another stack of papers. Placing the papers down onto his desk, they took a step back and saluted, a gesture Molam could not get used to.


    He glanced down at the report on the top of the pile. A missive from the local scholars at the City''s small Library, reaffirming their belief that Spring''s Blessings was at most three weeks away. Pending any drastic change from IceMourne''s yearly migration, of course.


    "Any news of Techoria?" Molam asked aloud. JiangXi''s residents had given many names to the eerie event where day had briefly lit up the night. Privately, Kalle had explained to him and the others about the SunFlower, and what the brilliant flash of light could possibly mean when it came to the siege of Techoria. Molam had sought details on the event ever since.


    The runner on the left, a stocky man wearing one of Kalle''s darker gray cloaks, shook his head. "News has been lagging due to the closed roads, sir."


    "And I assume the same with regards to the Empire''s movements," Molam murmured, glancing at the new pile of paper. The two looked at each other, and Molam waved his hand in dismissal. "Thank you for everything. Please, ensure you have something hot to drink before you leave, and as always, let me know of anything that you think needs to be said. Let the guards know I am not to be disturbed."


    The door opened, but it didn''t close. Molam looked up to see the stocky runner hesitating at the door.


    "Yes?"


    "It''s¡­it''s not something big right now, but if it''s something that might need to be said¡­"


    Molam forced himself to be patient. "If it''s on your mind, it might be on other people''s mind. Tell me about it, and I will decide if it''s something I should deal with."


    The man grimaced with a chipped tooth, as though regretting lingering. "I know that with the combined might of Shurra and yourself that the Dao beat back the Tempest, but ¡­ ZhiXia has never gone long without a defending Titled One, sir."


    Molam immediately caught on. "ZhiXia''s location makes it highly valuable to both the Empire and Free Cities alike, is what you mean. The lack of a defending Titled One means that other Titled Ones can freely enter or attack the city at any time."


    The man nodded. "I don''t know how strong you are as an auramaster, sir," he began, "But I can sense there is no Domain over the city. A rogue Titled One can easily come in and wreak havoc."


    Tapping his chin, Molam contemplated the man''s words and found they had merit. Titled Ones without clear allegiances were the hardest to predict, and they were less likely to be hampered by IceMourne''s divine snow. Truth be told, without a Domain he had little insight or control over who entered JiangXi. Until now, he had been reliant on IceMourne''s divine snow and the idea that he would not linger here when Spring''s Blessings came, but what could he be certain of? A Titled One ¡ª or more ¡ª could have entered JiangXi right now and he wouldn''t know.


    "I can give this some consideration. But luckily, we currently have Winter''s Sorrow to rely upon to keep the news of JiangXi''s change from traveling far. We won''t need to wait until Spring''s Blessings for ¡ª" Molam stopped, looking at the man''s face. "Is something wrong?"


    "It''s¡­" The man looked down and heaved a sigh. "You''re right. The other Cities are most likely just hunkering down for Winter''s Sorrow too."


    "You seem distraught." Molam observed. "Is there a reason you seem particularly worried about an attack soon?"


    "I understand we don''t have a Titled One right now. But¡­" The man''s eyes flicked back up to Molam. "During Winter''s Sorrow, a Domain over the city can prevent the worst of IceMourne''s divine snow. My daughter is too young to circulate her aura properly and my wife must keep her warm every night." He held his hands out as though begging. "I know that the Dao are doing their best to distribute warming stones, but¡­"


    "I understand," Molam responded, though he had no inkling as to how he could even begin to fix this. Though he had instructed the Dao to do their best with regards to distribution of warming stones and Kalle''s specialized cloaks, the needs of almost thirty thousand residents could not be adequately addressed when they had only just gained control over it. Once a week, he personally read the list of names that had died in IceMourne''s bitter chill, before handing it off to Head Priestess Cerelia so she could lead prayer over the pyre. The list had never been shorter than two pages. "And I''m sure your daughter might not be the only one. Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I will have Kalle look into a possible solution for this problem first thing in the morning."


    "Oh, thank you, sir. Thank you!" The man pressed his hands together and touched them to his head.


    "I don''t know how swiftly Kalle can help." Molam tried to temper the man''s expectations. Kalle was probably his only hope. He had no Titled Ones at his command, and they weren''t exactly easy to meet. Molam briefly contemplated asking Mursa Shang briefly, but wondered if he could even afford the Mursa''s asking price. A mistake on his part for not thinking of this during negotiations.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    "It is enough that you cared, Molam sir."


    The door closed behind them and Molam sighed, slouching slightly in his chair. He rubbed his bleary eyes, staring unfocused at the undried ink on the desk as the candlelight flickered across the paper. He had predicted this degree of paperwork to some extent and planned the Dao''s¡­ liberation with minimal damage to the city, but the destruction of the City Lord''s Mansion and Agytha''s burning of paperwork had left much more complications in administration. He envied the Tempest, who had clearly made a tactical retreat to avoid the dreaded bureaucracy and overseeing of logistics for JiangXi.


    And there was much work to be done. Though he had secured Mursa Shang''s food resources for the city, distribution had not been part of the agreed terms. Molam could hear Mursa Khan''s derisive "hmph" in his head as he thought about the mistake. Too focused on the goal without thinking about the next step.


    Then Molam started, eyes darting around the room. That disembodied "hmph" was not in his head, and the candlelight cast two shadows against the wall on his left. He reached a hand towards a dagger on his belt as his heartbeat picked up speed. Molam cast his mind out for possible reasons why he heard the sound from behind his back. His desk faced the only entrance in the room and Primrose had given him two guards at all times, on account of her belief that he could no longer use his aura.


    For someone to be behind him could only mean they had slipped past the Dao''s guards or found another entrance into a room with only one door and a barred window. For Molam or the guards outside to not have noticed meant that it could only be one stronger than even an auramaster.


    JiangXi City currently has no Domain. His earlier thoughts caught up to him through the pounding of his heartbeat. Had the Empire already made its move? A determined Titled One could force through IceMourne''s divine snow and enter the city ¡ª even with an army.


    "I seem to have quite the guest." Molam spoke in a forcibly calm voice, his fingers curling against his dagger''s hilt. "And what does a Titled One want with me this late in the night?"


    "I see Sanctuary''s messenger was far more than I expected." The familiarity of the voice sent chills down his spine. "Did you ever find the flower that blooms in flames?"


    "I did." Molam relaxed his shoulders just slightly. GloomSire had spared him last time, yes? "Is there a reason the leader of the UnSeen is here to see me?"


    An arm reached past Molam''s shoulder to pinch out the candle''s flame and all became dark. "You wanted to know why I am here?" GloomSire''s toned shifted, suffused with a hint of grief and anger. "Perhaps you can guess."


    Molam''s grip on his dagger tightened as his thoughts raced. "I treated the mare better as you requested."


    Far off in the distance, Molam heard the hooting of an owl.


    "I''m very glad to hear that, but that''s not why I''m here." GloomSire''s unchanged tone kept Molam on edge. "I''m here because the Whale of ZhiXia told me you were the one who stole from the Bloody Prince." A heavy hand weighed down on Molam''s left shoulder in the darkness and GloomSire''s voice came closer to his right ear, the warm breath palpable in the chilly air. His next two words whispered death. "Did you?"


    Molam could have sworn the guardsmen outside his door should be able to hear the blood pounding in his ears. "I did."


    "So you admit it."


    "I stole from the Bloody Prince to fulfill a task for the Oracle." Molam attempted to explain, but the hand on his shoulder clenched, the fingers digging painfully into his flesh.


    "And then you shifted the blame to the UnSeen."


    "I did not shift the blame onto the UnSeen." Molam pieced it together at the way GloomSire''s line of questioning focused on something he had stolen. The Tempest had left to subjugate the UnSeen because the Prince had ordered it. And the Prince had ordered it because¡­ "If the UnSeen have suffered the Empire''s actions as a result, it has nothing to do with me. It is an unfortunate consequence of circumstance."


    Bandaged fingers encircled his neck. "How do I know you''re not lying?"


    Molam felt his jaw stiffen and resisted the urge to swallow. He paused, then spoke slowly. "Do you have the Sight? If not, you can still kill me then if it makes you feel better for those that died at the Tempest''s hands. But will killing me truly quell your grief?"


    A harsh intake of breath, followed by an exasperated grunt. The hand on his shoulder and fingers around his neck gripped even harder before the pressure let up. Molam rotated his shoulder gingerly to ensure nothing had broken and forced himself to swallow the lump in his throat before he asked in a soft voice. "How many did the Tempest kill?"


    When GloomSire finally answered, the voice came from somewhere in front of Molam in the dark room of his workspace. "All of them."


    The door opened and candlelight flooded in. "Molam, sir," stammered a voice he recognized as one of his guards. "I know you said to not be disturbed, but¡­"


    "I told you that we would come in the morning, Yao-ren." An unfamiliar voice, deep and resonant, echoed into the room. A towering figure blocked out most of the light as he ducked into the room, paused, and then plucked a candle out of its holder as he entered. The candlelight illuminated a large man holding a straw hat as he looked down at GloomSire, who seemed to be looking out the window defiantly. The larger man''s grizzled black hair ran in an untamed braid down his back and past his bare elbows where Molam could see a tattoo on each arm ¡ª a tiger on the left and a whale on the right.


    "You didn''t have to come." GloomSire responded without looking back. "Nothing happened. I am level-headed."


    "That''s one way to put it." The larger man lit Molam''s extinguished candle and returned his own to its original place. "An erased presence does nothing when you reek of bloodlust. How do you think I knew?"


    GloomSire grunted. "He''s alive, it doesn''t matter."


    "True. He is."


    The other one turned to look at Molam, who had frozen still at the unexpected second man. To address a Titled One by their name was enough disrespect to provoke wrath or indicated one''s higher status. He coupled that with the rumored set of tattoos and identified the larger Titled One as the Whale of ZhiXia.


    Molam collected his thoughts in front of his guardsmen, smoothing his tone to ensure none of them made any moves that he would regret. "I seem to have quite the number of guests tonight."


    "Our mutual acquaintance here," the Whale pointed at GloomSire, "Decided that he could not wait to confront you."


    Molam looked past the two at his guards, who cowed in the Whale''s shadow. Perhaps they wouldn''t make any sudden movements, but he still needed to send them away. "Thank you for being vigilant, but I''ve been expecting them. Close the door ¡ª no one is to disturb us."


    They attempted to mask their looks of fear and confusion as they backed out of the room. The door closed and the Whale''s face stretched into a small smile. "You''ve been ''expecting'' us."


    "It was the fastest way to send them away without fuss." Molam responded impassively.


    "A poor lie. Made worse by the fact that two of us can See you lying."


    Molam had no interest in lingering on the topic. "Why are the two of you here?" He asked flatly.


    The Whale raised an eyebrow as if contemplating him. The man then leaned forward and placed his left arm onto Molam''s desk. In the flickering candlelight, it seemed as if the rippling image of the tiger scowled at Molam. "The Oracle sent me to escort you back to Sanctuary. Yao-ren joined along the way."


    "The one you brought almost killed me."


    "If you had died so easily then you couldn''t have been as useful as the Oracle thinks." GloomSire shrugged.


    The Whale held up a large hand. "You wouldn''t have died," he told Molam straightly.


    "I see." Molam felt his voice become muted, then shook off the sensation as he addressed the man. "This is our first time meeting and I have my guesses as to who you are, but shall I refer to you as ''Whale'' or ''the Whale''? I would like to avoid another¡­" Molam closed his eyes, remembering the ghostly feeling of bandaged fingers around his neck, "Near-death encounter from a displeased Titled One."


    The Whale''s lips curled and his eyes twinkled. "You could refer to me by name: Ji."


    A sense of alarm flooded Molam''s veins at the invitation and he hesitated. The tattoo of the tiger leered, its closed mouth still baring fangs. He chose his words carefully. "You would tolerate that from someone who isn''t even Titled?"


    Leaning in, the Whale shifted fully onto the table, his other arm''s tattoo swimming in the light. "You seem fully on guard."


    Molam''s eyes flickered towards the tattoo, which remained stalwartly in its place, before he tilted his head at GloomSire. "He came trying to decide if he should kill me. How do I know what you do or don''t want¡­ Master Ji?"


    The tattoo''d image of the whale seemed to rise from the depths as Ji laid his chin on a closed fist. Up close, Molam could see Ji''s dark eyes contemplating him. "I see the rumors of your boldness have some merit."


    "Oh? What have you heard?"


    "Though the Oracle commanded, I was curious enough to want to see you for myself. I heard you threatened the Oracle within Sanctuary and almost provoked the Leviathan. Is it apt for one who has died once to be so careless with their second life?"


    Molam saw GloomSire in his peripheral vision turn to look at them at Ji''s words, but Molam did not dare turn his gaze away from the Whale''s oppressive presence. Part of Molam wondered if he was currently under the effects of either''s Domain. He then wondered if the jade talisman would even work to prevent the effects of a Titled One''s Domain at this distance.


    But he leaned back and gestured at himself. "As you can see, I am alive. And from what it sounds like, the Oracle sent you as reinforcements. Helpers, one would say," he added pointedly.


    "In a sense." Ji shrugged. "The Oracle values the group she has been cultivating for several years now. She had high hopes for you and I understand you succeeded in stealing from the Empire twice."


    "Don''t accuse me of stealing something I bought with fair value." Molam glanced at the door to ensure it was closed, then looked at the Whale and spoke in a low voice. "As you said, I''m on my precarious second life. I''m not going to waste it being the Oracle''s tool." He ignored GloomSire''s presence, trusting his gut feeling that the man was the type to stay silent about these matters. "I assume you know I am going home."


    "So I have been told." Ji''s dark eyes did not flicker. "I am not the one you need to convince."


    "Enough." GloomSire interrupted. "When are we leaving for Sanctuary?"


    Molam held his hands out in a helpless gesture. "It is currently Winter''s Sorrow."


    "We can easily carry you through the divine snow."


    "While I don''t doubt that, I have a binding agreement with Mursa Shang to return to ZhiXia together when RainBringer spreads Spring''s Blessings." Molam glanced at Ji, "The mursashu have agreed to help me bring the elderwood to ZhiXia."


    "That''s too long." GloomSire walked forward, his shimmering dark blue eyes transfixed on Molam. "We can''t wait for Spring''s Blessings. We leave tomorrow."


    Molam met GloomSire''s gaze. "You do understand how a binding contract with the mursashu is enforced, yes? What purpose is there in bringing my body back if either God Yven or God Gered claim me?"


    The room darkened ¡ª as though the candlelight''s very nature had changed. Through the darkness, piercing blue eyes filled Molam with a chilling sense of dread, one that seeped deeply into his bones. Molam''s fingernails dug into his palms; the chill of Winter''s Sorrow could not even compare.


    The very next moment, Ji stood up. Molam blinked, refocusing his vision. GloomSire was nowhere to be seen. Warmth ¡ª blessed warmth ¡ª soaked his body again, and the candle''s flame flickered innocently.


    "Thank you for taking the time to meet with us." The Titled One pushed his chair back into place. "As Yao-ren and I have had a long journey, I have reminded him to get some rest in his room. You must be patient with him, for he has recently lost many he cared for."


    Molam''s hand reached for his neck, where he could have sworn he felt the clammy grip of bandaged fingers. Nothing was there.


    He lowered his hand. "Then I take it that the two of you will stay with us until Spring''s Blessings."


    Ji pushed open the door, where the posted guardsmen had increased in numbers from two to six. They pushed themselves against the wall as Ji stepped through the doorway and into the hall.


    "Until Spring''s Blessings," Ji responded as he left. "Good evening to you gentlemen."


    Molam exhaled, watching the guardsmen''s turned heads as they all watched the Titled One leave. One of the men stepped in and Molam recognized him as the one from earlier.


    "Molam, sir. Did they bring bad news?"


    He raised an eyebrow. "Why would you think that?"


    "The Whale of ZhiXia only leaves Sanctuary when things are¡­ bad," the man finished lamely.


    Rubbing his eyes, Molam leaned back in his chair and stared at his candle before he responded. "In this case, I''d say they brought good news. In fact, we now have a possible solution to your problem."


    The man seemed confused. "We do?"


    "Yes. Remember how ZhiXia feels undefended with no Titled Ones or Domains? Now we have two."

 Ch 28: Compassion

    We do so much only to find out we can only do so little.


    ¡ª Excerpt from The Woe of Life, by Scholar Epycurus of the Fallen Star Pavilion


    <hr>


    Despite Molam''s order for his guards to be silent, the news of two Titled Ones arriving in JiangXi could not be contained. Daylight had scarcely broken before a runner knocked urgently on the door to his study, disrupting him from all the paperwork he was preparing for Kalle to run the city.


    "Molam, sir ¡ª Shurra is following around GloomSire and the Whale to request a spar."


    Molam swore under his breath. "Lead the way."


    After throwing on his cloak, he followed the runner out into the City and arrived to see a large crowd in the City''s center. The only break in the circle was a wide berth given to the Whale of ZhiXia, who easily towered above the rest of the gathered throng. When Ji''s gaze met Molam''s, the man beckoned with a tilt of his head ¡ª Molam hurried towards the man as the crowd cheered to the sound of a clash reverberating throughout the center.


    When Molam pushed through the crowd to see Ji, he was taken aback by the sight of GloomSire''s bandaged figure standing next to the Whale. If GloomSire was here, who was Shurra fighting?


    A triumphant roar drew his gaze towards the open space in the center where the crowd had shrunk back. GloomSire''s black pixiu pinned a large Northern woman down by an arm and her back beneath its paws, its jaws biting down around her neck and tendrils of flame billowed out from between its gleaming fangs. The Northerner''s short blonde hair seemed either singed or covered in mud from the ground.


    "Yield." Shurra''s muffled words didn''t seem to match up with her struggle to push herself off the ground. "I yield!"


    The pixiu snarled, swinging its snout around to stare at the gathered crowd, then snorted and stepped off of Shurra. The circle broke as it returned back to GloomSire, who welcomed it back with an affectionate scratch under the jaw. After an approving growl and swift shake of its short mane, the pixiu curled up around the Titled One, its wings buffeting Molam once before being tucked in.


    Ji finished off a skewer of colorful mochi. "I sincerely hope this didn''t ruin any of your plans for introducing us to the Dao."


    "It''s fine." Molam grimaced at Shurra as she picked herself up off the ground, patting away the frost clinging to her clothes. "I should have thought of it ahead of time."


    "She lasted longer than I would have wagered. Better than your average Northern Warrior." The two watched as the crowd half-dispersed, half-congregated around Shurra. Another small crowd lingered around the three of them, glancing at the two Titled Ones and Molam in addition to the pixiu. A few children struggled in vain against the iron grips of their guardians as they tried to touch the pixiu''s bifurcated tail, which flicked in annoyance, but the pixiu did not react otherwise. "Perhaps she could have done better with the guidance of a skilled strategist, wouldn''t you think?"


    Though Molam ignored the Whale''s implied meaning, he was grateful that the Whale had the sense to not publicly reveal his own plans to leave. "I am sure someone who doesn''t have my shortcomings can be found. After all, anyone can be replaced."


    Ji side-eyed Molam. "And how many people could devise a plan for an auramaster to defeat Yao-ren''s bond?"


    "Many, I''m sure."


    The Whale snorted with derision. "If you ever want to lie to someone with Sight, at least believe your own lie first."


    Molam eyed a wisp of orange hair pushing through the crowd. Primrose nodded at his hand signal. "They won''t give you any trouble. I need to return as I have left some necessary tasks unfinished, but please follow the directions of the orange-haired woman in the purple cloak. Her name is Primrose."


    He turned and threaded his way through the crowd. Behind him, he heard a loud clap followed by Primrose''s voice, "I hope everyone enjoyed our impromptu activity to lighten up the dreary days of Winter''s Sorrow. Thank you to everyone for showing up to greet our two Titled Ones from Sanctuary, we will be planning further¡­"


    The Whale''s words weighed on him. Try as he might, Molam could not shove it to the back of his thoughts.


    ***


    A light knock on the door to his study prompted Molam to say "Enter."


    He glanced up to see the two Titled Ones following Primrose inside.


    "Shurra?" He inquired at Primrose as the three of them pulled up chairs around the table in the center of the room.


    "She''s changing clothes."


    Moments later, the door opened to admit Shurra who came dressed in a different fur-lined jerkin. Kalle stumbled in last, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, but he straightened up at the sight of the two Titled Ones eyeing him. All took a seat around the table.


    Now that they were all sitting down, Molam marveled at how the two Northerners could look similar in size when compared to the Whale, yet something about them felt smaller. No ¡ª Ji simply seemed to be bigger than them despite no discernible proof for the feeling. Molam couldn''t quite put his finger on it, but Ji''s mere presence always felt larger than anything else in the vicinity, as though the man''s physical body took more space than it actually did.


    "Thank you everyone for showing up for our morning meeting on time," Molam started, eyeing Kalle. The alchemist looked away to scratch sheepishly at his dark brown beard, an act that always seemed to contrast with his large Northern build. "To cut to the chase, yes, we have the Whale in the room, but don''t forget GloomSire from the UnSeen. These two Titled Ones are here from Sanctuary. Yes, Shurra?"


    "Are they joining the Dao?" Shurra asked.


    "We have no interest when it comes to participating in the day to day affairs of JiangXi," Ji responded before Molam could answer. "We''re only here to escort Molam back to ZhiXia when Spring''s Blessings comes." Ji leaned back in his chair. It protested, but did not buckle. "In case the Empire decides to take action at the sudden loss of JiangXi."


    "Did the Oracle tell you anything about what the Empire is doing to respond to what''s happened here in JiangXi?" Molam asked. The question had an immediate effect on the others. Though they had discussed the potential ramifications of the Dao''s actions to some extent, Molam wondered if the others felt the pressure of their position intensify when they saw him speak to the Whale about it. "Or can you tell us anything about Techoria?"


    Out of the corner of his eye, Molam saw Kalle look down ¡ª regret flooded Molam''s veins. His secondary question had been foolish.


    The Titled One did not respond immediately. "...I suppose you are all worried about a repeat of Kamisukawa."


    "We would be fools not to." Primrose spoke up. She looked up at Ji, who did not look down at her. "Every child knows the story of when Kamisukawa tried to break away from the Empire."


    The opening of the door caused everyone but Ji to look up, only to see the door close behind GloomSire without a sound.


    "I apologize for Yao-ren." The Whale shook his head. "The two of us have painful memories when it comes to Kamisukawa, but his are deeper considering it was once his home."


    The tension shifted again as all eyes turned to Ji. There were no recorded survivors of the Massacre of Kamisukawa 84 years ago. Molam''s eyes narrowed further as he recalled his history lessons. Ji''s original allegiance back then had been to the Empire. What exactly was the relationship between the Whale and GloomSire?


    Ji himself continued, seemingly oblivious to what he had just revealed. "To answer your question, I do not know anything about the Empire''s plans. If you are interested, you would need to hear of it directly from the Oracle. Do you have a timeline on when you will be returning to ZhiXia?"


    "When the roads thaw in Spring''s Blessings," Primrose responded. "We''ve contracted with Mursa Shang''s mursashu to go to ZhiXia together."


    Molam glanced at Primrose, who seemed uncharacteristically exuberant at the idea they were all returning to ZhiXia together. He had been unable to gainsay her insistence on following him to ZhiXia with Shurra as guards, leaving Kalle and the rest of the Dao to control JiangXi.


    "Then it is a simple matter of waiting." Ji sat back in his chair and waved a dismissive hand. "Thank you for hearing me out."


    The rest of them eyed each other before Molam took over again to oversee their morning meeting ¡ª a delegation of tasks and voicing of the group''s concerns so they all have an understanding of the city''s problems. At Molam''s request, Ji left the room to spread his Domain so that it would cover all of JiangXi. Though he could not See, a blue tint seemed to have been added to the normally gray skies outside the windows. The difference manifested itself later, when Molam found himself shedding an outer layer within the warm interiors of the room.


    The Dao''s hold over JiangXi progressed as normal. Or, as Molam thought to himself, as normal as a City could conduct itself with the sudden change in management. He considered the Dao lucky that they did not need to spend too much effort ingratiating themselves with the residents, and he had Agytha''s poor impression to thank for that. This wasn''t to say that all of the residents accepted this change, and the Dao received complaints almost weekly threatening to turn the leadership''s heads over to the Empire upon Spring''s Blessings.


    In light of these threats, Shurra and Primrose elected to restrict distribution of warming stones to these individuals. Kalle protested, and Molam agreed with Kalle on the basis that now was not the time for the Dao to be anything but generous. Instead, he arranged for an invitation with the most vocal detractors to have an open discussion with Primrose and the Dao would guarantee their safety. Having delegated the planning of that issue, Molam followed Kalle to the alchemist''s workshop and storage rooms, where the Dao were hard at work creating and distributing warming stones.


    "I''m grateful." Kalle began as the two of them walked about the workshop, overseeing the creation and tallying of the warming stones for distribution. The alchemist had grudgingly agreed to train several members to do basic rune engravings, but he insisted on personally inspecting samples before they went out.


    "Grateful for what?" Molam asked.


    "I would have been disappointed if you had sided with Shurra and Primrose about restricting distribution of warming stones. To be perfectly honest, I wanted to speak up when you ordered Primrose to influence the negative rumors. People should be allowed to think what they want." Kalle sighed as they sat down at the table next to an accountant. "And so, I am grateful that you aren''t anything like Agytha."


    "Ah, yes. Well, try to avoid putting me in a position like that next time."


    Kalle looked up from a warming stone. "A position like what?"


    "A position where I''m forced to use my authority," Molam pressed down the lid of a crate of warming stones that had passed Kalle''s inspection. "Or didn''t you realize?"


    "No?" Kalle set down the stone in the pile to be reprocessed.


    "Think about what happened. Shurra and Primrose wanted something. You disagreed. I took your side and you got your way."


    Kalle frowned. "You''re the leader. You have final say."


    Molam chuckled. "We all think that until we need to lead. Considering you will be left in charge of JiangXi soon before the others return, here''s a hint: if I had sided with Primrose and Shurra, it would have felt more "fair" to everyone involved ¡ª even you."


    Kalle picked up another stone but his blue eyes were glazed over as he inspected it, deep in thought. "Because," he said slowly, "it would have been a majority."


    "I''m glad you see it. By siding with you, it became two votes for either outcome. The only reason there was a tiebreaker was by my authority. Do you see now? Even though they both accepted the result, it can feel as though their votes did not matter, and from there, it feels as though you receive too much help from me or that I must favor you."


    "That''s¡­ very perceptive of you." Kalle looked down. "I never thought of it that way."


    "There''s no need to be ashamed. It''s not something we tend to think about. The only reason I think of it this way is because I met a few people in positions of leadership during my travels. All of them made mistakes, or voiced regrets about how they''ve wielded their power." Molam paused, then added, "I''m only telling you this because you will need to think of more than just the problem at hand when you are the one leading in my absence. You understand?"


    Kalle cocked his head wryly. "Thanks for reminding me about you pushing your task onto me."


    "You''re very welcome. When you''re the one responsible for assigning the budget, you can then decide if you have the leeway to fund those instruments you asked for or whether I am the monster you think I am." Molam beckoned a young man to come take the crate before he turned back to Kalle. "Consider it my thanks for helping me with ¡­ " He glanced at the accountant nearby, Cholani, then said, "Everything I ask you to make."


    "Oh," Kalle waved his hand, "Don''t think too much about it. You always give me a chance to work on something new and I just¡­" Kalle''s eyes drifted from the stone he was inspecting, before flicking back up to Molam''s gaze. "I create to help people."


    "How noble." Cholani snorted from the side. Molam frowned. The round and soft-skinned accountant hunkered over their desk, penning with one hand and manipulating an abacus with the other. The steady rhythm of the abacus'' beads flicking to and fro had melted into the background of their conversation, but now it seemed deafening in Molam''s ears as he turned to glance at Cholani. He marveled at how the swift manipulation of the abacus did not travel up from Cholani''s wrist to disturb the elegant purple robe they wore.


    "We''re talking here, Cholani." Molam warned.


    "I know, I know," the accountant didn''t even look up. "But with that mindset, the alchemist should stick to Techoria."


    Molam frowned. He had instructed the Dao to not bring up the topic of Techoria with Kalle, but Cholani was not one of the Dao. Perhaps he could only blame himself. He had assumed that no matter whom he chose, the mursashu would be relaying everything they heard back to the Mursa. With that in mind, Molam had chosen Cholani specifically because they were uninhibited with their thoughts and talkative for a mursashu in the hopes he could learn something of his own. A shame that he did not realize Cholani did not see him as their superior, only treating it as a temporary assignment.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    "Oh. Right." Cholani didn''t even look up from their parchment, writing down numbers and glancing at their abacus. "I suppose there''s only Zaem now, right? The City you Techorian alchemists hate."


    "Cholani." Molam warned with a steelier tone.


    "No, let them speak." Kalle frowned. "What did you mean, I should stick to Techoria?"


    Cholani looked up, meeting Kalle''s gaze with a raised eyebrow. "You''re the type of alchemist that wants to help people, but didn''t Flangel the Wise tell you Techorian alchemists to be careful of whom you help? You''re mighty lucky that the Dao hasn''t bled you dry."


    Kalle folded his arms. "I trust the Dao. And it was Master Flangel that told me to join them."


    "Be that as it may," Cholani shrugged, "I''ve seen types like you. Stay with the group you trust, because you wouldn''t make it far elsewhere. Exabell or Oasis, for instance. Definitely Oasis, in fact. The people there would slaughter your bankroll. Though, hmm, I suppose you alchemists refer to it as a budget." Cholani''s lips pressed together in thought, then they shook their head as though the thought didn''t matter. "Either way, you''ll never amass any wealth worth mentioning."


    "You think I do this to become¡­ rich?" Kalle''s voice took on an icy edge. "Do you really think that money is a solution?"


    "There are few problems that money cannot solve," Cholani answered mildly. "And those that are in a position to complain about those problems are fortunate indeed. Anything you can''t solve with money can be solved with attitude."


    "If you think simply putting your mind to it could fix some of the ¡ª"


    "Come, Kalle." Molam placed a hand on Kalle''s wrist to get the man''s attention. "I just saw some people carry another crate to the storage room ¡ª we wouldn''t want a batch uninspected by our Master Alchemist to slip through." Molam stood up and signaled for Kalle to do the same. "Thank you for the warning, Cholani. I am sure Kalle appreciates it."


    "Oh anytime, of course. Consider that advice to be free." Cholani waved them off without looking up from their abacus. "I''ll be here, but I don''t think you will have any need to come update my numbers."


    Molam didn''t respond as he walked towards the door. He closed the door behind them as they walked towards the storage room and Kalle''s hand grabbed onto his shoulder, making Molam turn around. The alchemist''s bushy beard had grown wildly during this time, but Molam didn''t need to see Kalle''s mouth to see the worry in the alchemist''s blue eyes.


    "Why am I here, Molam?"


    He blinked, thrown off by the question. "What do you mean? You''re our Master Alchemist. The city needs what you''ve made to survive Winter''s Sorrow."


    "And then what?" Kalle leaned against the wall, looking down at the ground. "What are we trying to do? What part is there for me here?"


    Sensing something amiss, Molam tried to be tactful. "That sounds like you''ve lost sight of what we''re trying to do here. Is something wrong?"


    "Wrong? Is something wrong?" Kalle looked at Molam. "For all we know, Techoria is gone. Gone! And with the loss of communication from Winter''s Sorrow, I won''t know about it until Spring''s Blessings. You ask me: ''Is something wrong?'' How about my home," he paused painfully, "¡ª a place I have fond memories of is possibly in ruins ¡ª or destroyed. What if I go back and all I see are charred ruins like Kamisukawa?"


    Glad that he had closed the door behind him, Molam gazed sadly at Kalle. He thought that at least Primrose had talked to Kalle, but this sudden display clearly indicated otherwise. For a brief moment, Molam was surprised at his own sense of empathy with Kalle''s unresolved sense of loss. Molam hesitated at his own train of thought; why was he feeling so much sympathy and empathy for Kalle? Wasn''t he simply trying to address this to leave the Dao and JiangXi in an acceptable state before he returned home?


    Or was it more? A thought flickered in his mind and Molam shoved it away before it could take root. No. He could not allow himself to become any more invested than he needed to be. He could not consider Kalle a friend ¡ª the shadows flickered at the edge of his sight, a reminder of the last time he had trusted. He was only here to do his duty and give the Oracle little reason to keep him in the human realm any longer.


    But¡­ it couldn''t hurt to further stabilize the Master Alchemist''s state of mind before Molam washed his hands of this matter. In fact, it would help him leave, knowing he had done what he could to leave the Dao in good leadership.


    He exhaled. "I suppose I never asked, but when Flangel the Wise told you to join, he didn''t mention anything about what you can expect?"


    Kalle sighed. "Not really. Master Flangel told me that I can''t fix what I want to fix by staying in Techoria."


    Wracking his memory, Molam ventured, "Fixing¡­ society?"


    Kalle gave a wan smile. "I see you remembered."


    "I did. And let me remind you: aren''t you doing that here?" Molam gestured around them vaguely. "You want to know why you''re here, but I ask you: Why are any of us here at all? We''re all wondering if we are where we need to be and that''s normal. Let me tell you then, Kalle: you''re exactly where you need to be. Look around you! Look at the effect you have where you are." Molam wished they were outside, in the city, overlooking the landscape as he spoke these words. But this dingy little hall would need to do. "I think that''s what Flangel the Wise would tell you ¡ª we know we are where we need to be when we are needed. Think about it; without you, how would JiangXi have survived Winter''s Sorrow?"


    Kalle seemed deep in thought, so Molam continued to the storage room as he beckoned. "I understand you''re feeling a sense of loss. Techoria is your home, not mine. I can empathize even though I can''t fully know what you''re feeling. But¡­ I lost a home once. I promise you I know the feeling. We all want to belong somewhere."


    Seeing no reaction from Kalle as they entered the storage room, Molam added, "Before I stole into Crimson City''s Palace, I also struggled with a sense of whether anything I did mattered when I was only doing it at someone else''s behest. I think Flangel the Wise sensed it in me when I consulted him, and I''ll pass his words on to you now: ''To change your life, go where you feel wanted. To change the world, go where you feel needed.''"


    After a moment, Kalle finally stirred. "That does sound like what Master Flangel would say."


    "He held his Title for a reason, yes?" Molam smiled encouragingly. "I''m certain he told you to join Primrose for a reason too. I understand you might feel needed elsewhere right now, but I can assure you that right now, you might be where you need to be." He gestured around them now, surrounded by boxes upon boxes of warming stones. "Look at what you''ve accomplished here. Is this not what Flangel the Wise meant for you?"


    "I think I understand what you mean. I just need time to process and understand what this means for me."


    "We all do, at times." Molam paused, then added, "A lot has happened for us ¡ª for you. I don''t know your struggle, but I know you are struggling. Too often, we push ourselves to accept things before we are ready and then find ourselves worse off for it. So, take your time, Kalle."


    Kalle raised an eyebrow. "Is that also from Master Flangel?"


    "No, that would be from my mentor. It was one of the first things they said to me."


    "They sound quite wise themselves. I would very much like to meet them."


    Molam chuckled, looking away from Kalle. "Perhaps one day. My mentor lives in a place that is hard to reach."


    "I see, I see." Kalle glanced around. "Well, I don''t see an unmarked crate here. Are you sure you saw someone carrying a new crate of unchecked warming stones?"


    Molam blinked, then chuckled. "That was a lie, Kalle."


    The alchemist paused, brows furrowed. "Then why did ¡ª" Kalle began, then realization set in and he exhaled a long sigh as his beard twitched. "Ah. You just wanted to move us away from Cholani."


    "They do a good job at accounting, but a poor job of staying silent. You told me to practice tact."


    "I''m not sure that qualifies," Kalle scratched at his beard. "But maybe because it feels like you cheated by lying."


    "What''s the difference?"


    "I don''t know. It feels different when you do it. As though it doesn''t occur to me that you would lie like that. I just ¡ª" The alchemist''s hand laid on Molam''s shoulder again, but the gesture was far gentler than earlier. "Molam. You once asked me what Master Flangel told me about you when you went by ''Carlton,'' didn''t you?"


    Molam didn''t pull away. "Why are you bringing this up now?"


    Kalle''s blue eyes met his. "Master Flangel told me that, like me, your heart is in the right place. He never clarified, and I don''t know what it means for this sense of meandering loss of direction I have right now, but the reason I follow you is because of that." The hand squeezed Molam''s shoulder. "You''re right. This is what I can do, and it feels nice to be doing all this here instead of Techoria, where the others don''t seem to understand why. But this ¡ª" he looked meaningfully around them at the boxes, "¡ª this is all I can do."


    "This isn''t ¡ª" Molam began, but Kalle interrupted him.


    "You might need to leave JiangXi in my care, but everyone in the Dao has seen you salvage this city with efficiency and tact. A change, beyond these¡­" the alchemist wrinkled his nose, "... mere trinkets and small solutions." He clapped Molam''s shoulder with his hand again as he looked around at the boxes around them. "As your friend, I want you to know that I think Master Flangel meant the second half of his words for both of us, or you, at the very least. I can see why the Oracle gave you the color of her approval. This is where you''re needed." Kalle''s eyes wrinkled above his bushy smile. "I hope you never lose your way."


    Molam tore his gaze away from Kalle''s trusting blue eyes. He looked down feigning bashfulness, swallowing down a dizzying combination of self-loathing, relief, and to his surprise, gratitude. "It heartens me you think so, Kalle."


    "Now," Kalle opened the door for the two of them, "If there''s no crate for me to verify, my workshop calls. I won''t have as much time to tinker away when you''ve foisted JiangXi''s administrative work onto me when you return to Sanctuary. You mentioned those children that are unable to circulate their aura, yes? I have something in mind, just in case we lose the protective Domain of our new¡­ defenders."


    They left the storage room, Kalle humming to himself with a new lightness in his step. But as Molam thought about how he never planned to stay, Kalle''s words burrowed deeply and took root in his mind in ways he could not immediately dismiss.


    Kalle thought he was needed here? But this was not where Molam wanted to be. This place, where he could not sleep comfortably in fear of being dragged out of bed in the middle of the night? This place, where he wondered if those smiles were merely masks to lower his guard? This place, where he ate each meal wondering if it was his last?


    This place was where he was needed?


    He didn''t want to change the world. The only place he wanted to be was home. But if he was needed here and he didn''t stay, was that selfish?


    Kalle''s light steps to his side felt discordant with the heaviness of Molam''s thoughts. He had alleviated Kalle''s worries and only deepened his own.


    Why was he here? Only one place had ever made him feel wanted, and it was not here.


    ***


    Molam''s Study


    When Molam entered his study, he saw Primrose leaning against the wall behind his chair, her purple eyes deep in thought. His eyes flickered to the note sitting innocuously on his desk, easily out of place since he normally cleared the deskspace whenever he left.


    "I assume you read it already," he shrugged off his cloak, hanging it up on the inside of the door. "Who is it from? Is it good or bad?"


    "Mursa Khan." Primrose stretched as Molam walked over. Her red-orange curls fell untamed down around her shoulders, decorated with blue satem flowers. "Whether it''s good or bad will depend on how you view it."


    Molam frowned as he sat down, reaching for the note. The wax seemed unbroken; how Primrose opened it, he had no idea. He unsealed the note and opened it to be greeted with just a few words.


    Techoria destroyed. Prince in slumber.


    The thoughts raced in faster than he could stop them. Molam set down the note, pinching the bridge of his nose with his eyes closed. Techoria destroyed¡­ he had been ready for that possibility. Or at least, Kalle had made it very clear.


    But the Prince in slumber?


    He looked up at Primrose. "Who else knows?"


    "That I know of? Only you, me, and Mursa Khan." She paused, then added, "I suppose the mursashu may know, depending on whether or not he shared it with them."


    "Tell the Mursa to keep it that way." Molam held the note to the candle, watching as it burned. "And if his caravan already knows, then tell him it is my request that the mursashu remain silent, for now. The city doesn''t need to know this yet."


    Primrose nodded, but her eyes did not leave Molam''s face. "And what will we do about it?"


    "I don''t know what you''ve seen that makes you think I can resurrect a fallen city."


    She leaned over his desk, glowering at him. "You know that''s not what I meant. The Bloody Prince has fallen into slumber. This is an opportunity."


    "To¡­do what? Attack him with the meager members of the Dao? Do you really think that the Empire would just leave the slumbering Prince unguarded?"


    "Perhaps take another city."


    Molam shook his head. "We''ve done what we can for now. Taking JiangXi should be an ample thorn in their side. Let''s not push our luck while they''re distracted with the Prince''s situation."


    Primrose''s face said she was not fully convinced. "Are you content with not taking the initiative in this?"


    "Yes," replied Molam, grateful she did not argue further. "One thing at a time. Let''s stabilize what we have in JiangXi and move the World Tree''s elderwood to Sanctuary." Not wanting to make Primrose feel as though he was only dismissive of her thoughts, he added, "And after that, there may be a chance to consult with the Oracle on an appropriate course of action. Her position gives her an understanding of what is happening in the world so we can proceed without blindspots. We can only guess at what the Empire wants to do now, but we should consider that there are many things we don''t know."


    "Let''s finish what we started here, then." Primrose turned away, heading for the door. "I''ll continue focusing on making sure JiangXi is ready for Kalle to take over during Spring''s Blessings."


    When the door closed, Molam rubbed a knuckle against his temples. He hadn''t lied, not in front of Primrose''s Sight, but he certainly didn''t want to get dragged into something more. With the World Tree''s elderwood in hand, all he needed was to ensure it reached Sanctuary. Then he could talk to the Oracle and return home, washing his hands of this matter.


    And yet¡­ the nagging feeling that none of this was something he could ignore. The Prince was in slumber; recovering from an injury that had almost taken his life. Molam hoped the Prince falling into slumber would take the Empire''s focus off of their actions in JiangXi, but nothing was ever certain.


    At the very least, there was one other person that may have known, and now Molam needed to go speak with him. Just to confirm things.


    He sighed, pushing aside the paperwork he had planned to read. If only the Whale of ZhiXia "answered" to him too.


    ***


    City Lord''s Mansion, Crescent City


    "We''re not turning on JiangXi?"


    "Ruskru says it''s not important while the Prince recovers." Jett leaned forward against his desk, reading the letter. "Spring''s Blessings couldn''t come fast enough," he murmured, blowing at the parchment. It burst into flames, disintegrating into ash. Jett brushed the ash into a nearby tray.


    "I hadn''t read that yet," Rei flicked a peanut at him from her slouched position on a nearby couch. "I hope you remember what else it says."


    Closing his eyes, Jett leaned back into his chair as he recalled the contents of the letter. "Shoss is joining Ruskru so they can protect the Prince while he recovers. You and I are to manage affairs internally and externally in the meantime while Sophisyas and Kymja search for the Prodigy."


    "The Prodigy?" Rei frowned. "Why is she important?"


    "We don''t have the SunFlower yet," Jett replied testily, "Or have you forgotten? And since we don''t know if the Prince extracted the design from Flangel the Wise, Ruskru wants to get ahead of that and find the Prodigy. She''s still alive, somewhere. With the SunFlower''s design."


    "Well then, if the Prodigy is so important perhaps my talents shouldn''t be kept here," Rei said innocently. "I can join Kymja and Sophie ¡ª conducting a search from the skies would certainly yield better results."


    "No, you won''t. Our job is to keep everything running as smoothly as possible while the Prince recovers. You should consider this your chance to ensure your loss of JiangXi doesn''t further impact the Empire''s trade and finances."


    A peanut shell flew over, just missing Jett''s nose. "They can take JiangXi for a while. They can''t hold it. Don''t blame me just because you''re stressed about papers, Jett."


    "I''d be less stressed if you bothered to help me look over the ledgers, Rei! And what do you mean, don''t blame you? You are the one that lost JiangXi! You are the reason I need to figure out all these new logistics! You think I want to sit here, going over the numbers on whether Crescent City can afford to send salt and flour to HaiFeng without running out themselves? The least you could do is come help me look over the numbers."


    Rei cracked open another peanut, inspecting it in her fingers. "Is that all that has you in such a mood? The great WildFire is daunted by paperwork and ledgers?"


    "If you considered learning how to govern, perhaps the Prince would take your opinions more seriously."


    "We have accountants for that."


    "And as the Prince reminds us time after time, accountants can make mistakes or worse; be corrupt. We should always check their work."


    Rei waved a dismissive hand. "The corrupt ones are always found out. It astounds me to no end that any of them would dare lie in front of us." Rei popped a peanut into her mouth before pressing further, her eyes glowing green. "Was there anything else in Ruskru''s letter?"


    Jett''s voice took on a frigid turn. "No, and you should know me better than to lie to you about that. Ruskru is interim leader, for now. Which means," he added, pointing to the stack of papers on the table near Rei, "You have work to do. We wait for news of the Prodigy, and then we act. Do you understand?"

 Ch 29: Confrontation

    A satisfied curiosity is truly one of the joys of life.


    ¡ª Excerpt from the journal of Flangel the Wise


    <hr>


    Molam and Shurra marched straight to the top of JiangXi, where the old City Lord''s Mansion had been. The Dao''s manpower and resources had been stretched too thin for Molam to order anything besides salvaging as many documents as possible. The rest of the Mansion had been surrendered to Winter''s Sorrow, and IceMourne''s Domain had shown no respect to the previously opulent building: brutal winds had scattered many of the stone blocks and snow caked the crumbling walls. Judging by the trickling of melted snow down the slopes, the interior must have filled up with snow as well. There, the two of them found the Whale facing the setting Sun at the highest edge of JiangXi''s Cliffs.


    "Please wait here, Shurra." Molam held up a hand. "I wish to speak with him first alone."


    "As long as you don''t forget what you promised." Shurra leaned against a dilapidated wall.


    "I won''t." Molam moved forward.


    Unlike GloomSire, who could only be found if he wished to be found, Master Ji scarcely strayed from this spot atop JiangXi''s Cliffs day in and day out. The man sat cross-legged at the Cliff''s edge, pondering the burnt-orange horizon in silence. The bone-aching chill of Winter''s Sorrow had yet to fully relent despite being so close to Spring''s Blessings, yet the Whale still donned nothing more than a thin shirt cut off at the shoulders, displaying both tattoos on his bulky build. The image of the tiger seemed to snarl at Molam as he approached.


    "You knew of Techoria''s fate, didn''t you? And the Empire''s current¡­predicament? The Oracle would have known." Molam did not bother with a greeting. "And you didn''t tell us."


    Ji did not even turn around. "Why would you need to know?"


    "Why wouldn''t we need to know?" Molam demanded. "How could you even say that when you know what the Dao are doing? What the Dao is trying to achieve?"


    "That wasn''t my question." Ji''s voice lowered. "Why would you need to know?"


    Redness surged ¡ª if Molam didn''t know better, he would have thought he had suddenly gained aura. How could Master Ji even think this, having undoubted knowledge of Molam''s circumstances? How could he not understand why Molam considered this sort of information paramount?


    He looked away from Ji''s broad back and closed his eyes, counting his heartbeat as blood rushed into his ears. The angry thoughts threatened to overwhelm him and he clenched his fist even harder ¡ª to the point where his fingers hurt ¡ª before he relaxed his fingers.


    As Molam removed himself from the torrent of thoughts, he distracted himself by trying to understand Ji''s words. No, he understood them; but what did the Whale mean? He did not know Ji well, and so he could only guess.


    Only when the throbbing pulse of his heart subsided into a calm cadence did he respond. "Even if I am returning home, there is no need for you to be denying me information that the leader of the Dao should be made aware of. I only ask you to inform me of these important matters in the future."


    The Sun had dipped below the horizon, and orange surrendered to the sky''s unique blend of violet and rose. Only when the skies darkened did Ji push himself up to his feet and turn to face Molam, towering over Molam as he looked down upon him. "You care a lot for someone who wants nothing to do with any of this."


    Molam''s jaw clenched and he drew himself up to his full height, barely reaching Ji''s chest. "You obstruct quite a bit for someone who should have no lingering ties to the Empire."


    No sooner had the words left his mouth did Molam feel an urgent need to step back. Anger gave way to a gut-lurching fear in his stomach and his breathing became shallow as Molam quashed the intense desire to retreat. But he could not. The words had been uttered and anything he tolerated would continue.


    Ji did not respond. Then, a heavy hand laid down on Molam''s shoulder ¡ª and the Whale chuckled. "I see they were not joking when they said you are considerably brave." Ji bent down to look at Molam, his deep voice becoming soft. "Or perhaps just foolish." Twin black eyes wreathed in violet stared down at Molam. "Do you think you are necessary for bringing the elderwood back to ZhiXia?"


    "I don''t." Indignant anger surged, muting his fear. Molam met the Titled One''s intense gaze without flinching, the man''s large hand on his shoulder an ever-present reminder of his fragile mortality. Yet there was hope. He did not need to directly meet Ji''s challenging threat. "I''m sure the mursashu can bring the elderwood back to ZhiXia without a problem, especially with you overseeing it. But that''s not where I''m necessary, is it?"


    Ji blinked, then he chuckled. "How plucky. Or shall I say, daring. Whatever gave you the idea to think you would be necessary anywhere?"


    "You were complaining that I want nothing to do with any of this. When someone complains about something, they are hoping for the result to be changed." Molam pointed at Ji''s hand on his shoulder. "For example, this is quite heavy. Or do you need help standing up?"


    "Complaining?" Ji raised an eyebrow, his gaze searching Molam''s face.


    Molam raised both eyebrows back, then glanced meaningfully to the man''s hand and pointed again. "Yes. And this is me complaining, if it''s not obvious."


    A moment later, Ji straightened up and retracted his hand from Molam''s shoulder.


    "Thank you," Molam said. "If you need a cane, I can ask Kalle to make you one."


    "I am not quite so old as to need a cane just yet." Ji turned away from Molam to look past the River Jiang. The skies were now dark and the faintest hints of stars had begun winking into sight. "I don''t believe I''ve complained about anything."


    "Your considerable displeasure at my desire to return home could not be more transparent ever since we met. Or is it the Oracle''s?" Molam kept his voice steady despite his beating heart. He could not back down from his earlier utterances, but he could dance around an insult now that he confirmed the Whale ¡ª or by extension, the Oracle ¡ª still found him necessary. "I find it difficult to discern an individual''s will when they live in servitude."


    "If your concern is retaining your individual will when serving as the chosen leader of the Dao, I assure you that won''t be the case." Ji folded his arms together, but since his chest was at Molam''s eye-level, it seemed as though a tiger and whale had breached into his vision. The faint luminescence of the melting divine snow caused the entwined tattoos to shift in Molam''s sight as Ji continued. "Since you know my history so well, you should also know your¡­ complaint, in your own words, has no merit. The Oracle has given me quite the leeway when it comes to accomplishing tasks."


    "I think we disagree." Molam shook his head. "But maybe because it''s all you''ve ever known. You are right: your history is well-chronicled. I believe you were twenty when you defected from the Empire after the Massacre of Kamisukawa, over eighty years ago? From serving the Prince to serving the Oracle." Molam crossed his arms as well. "Perhaps after so many decades of servitude, you no longer know any other way to live, Master Ji."


    The Whale shook his head, exhaling audibly. "I''m surprised you survived your encounter with Rei. Shouldn''t you act more carefully on your second chance at life?"


    "On the contrary, you are currently experiencing my very frail self''s ire because you put my life in danger." Molam responded in sardonic anger, barely containing his gritted teeth with a tinge of sarcasm. A memory of his village elder beckoning towards him flashed in his mind. "My only concern is being able to trust those ostensibly meant to protect me, yet they keep me in the dark when it comes to critical information."


    "I doubt either Techoria''s destruction or the Prince''s slumber would have any meaningful change for your protection."


    "Perhaps that''s for me to decide." Molam responded. "Did you ever consider that I might think differently about what these events will mean for others? And that the Oracle wants me to do¡­ this," Molam gestured vaguely down towards JiangXi, "Because thinking is all I can do? And you choose to withhold critical information from me?"


    The Whale pondered Molam in silence. "I see you are nothing like the Frost Saint." After a pause, Ji uncrossed his arms and held out his hands disarmingly. "But, I do see your point."A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    "I''m glad some of my elders haven''t forgotten that change is eternal." Molam wanted to say something more, but sensed that he should not risk aggravating the Whale any further. "Is there anything else you can think of that I should be privy to?"


    "Not related to what needs to be done, no." Ji sighed. "I will keep you informed, for your sanity''s sake, while you do¡­" he gestured down towards JiangXi the way Molam had, "This."


    "That''s all I ask for." Molam turned, then remembered. "And one more thing. I promised Shurra I would ask for guidance on her behalf. Or a spar. You don''t need to say yes, but if you remember anything from your first day here, she is stubborn as a ¡ª"


    "I don''t accept disciples, but I will give her advice while we travel back to ZhiXia. I assume she will be accompanying us."


    Molam''s voice trailed off at the Whale''s unexpected answer. He had asked the Whale out of mere responsibility for his promise to Shurra; he had not expected the Whale to agree.


    "I''m sure she will be glad to hear that," he finally said. For some reason, the loss of tension in their conversation deflated all the bundled up emotions he had brought up the Cliffs. He had expected a full-on confrontation with Ji, but Ji had stayed more level-headed than he thought and gave Molam nothing more than what he had asked for. "I believe that''s all I came to talk to you about, and Shurra is waiting for me all by herself. Have a good evening, Master Ji."


    "A piece of advice, Molam."


    Molam was already mid-pivot as he turned to leave, but something about Ji''s tone made him pause. "Yes?"


    "If you always put your life on the line, one day you''ll meet someone who is ready to kill you. I sincerely wish that you remember to not always throw your whole self at your goals."


    "... I''ll keep that in mind."


    Molam left Ji by himself at the Cliff''s edge and returned to Shurra. She seemed bored, but when he reappeared from the ruined Mansion she uncrossed her arms and came closer. "That took so long I was beginning to think I should sleep here. Did the Whale agree?"


    "We talked about various things," Molam said evasively. "And yes, Master Ji agreed. But not immediately. He will give you guidance while we travel to ZhiXia City."


    "He did? Excellent." She clenched an excited fist. "This isn''t just for me," Shurra spoke knowingly to Molam. "My experience fighting the Tempest has taught me the chasm between our strengths. I hope that the Whale''s guidance can help me understand where I am currently lacking."


    "I''m certain you''ll find it helpful." Molam murmured as they walked back down from the ruins of the Mansion into the city.


    ***


    For Ji''s inner sense within his Domain, the aura presence of JiangXi''s tens of thousands of residents buzzed like glowbugs in a marsh. He paid them little heed as he followed Molam and Shurra''s aura presences down the road from the Mansion. Or, he mused, not Molam''s aura ¡ª the Oracle''s aura. Ji wondered if he could sense Molam if the Oracle''s aura did not cloak him in a blinding light only he could See.


    And then the other thing.


    "It is bad manners to eavesdrop on a conversation, Yao-ren." Ji stared off into the night''s glittering stars. "Or are old habits hard to shake?"


    A gust blew past, carrying away Ji''s words into the sky. After a moment, snow crunched as Yao-ren stepped forward, as though materializing from the shadows of the Mansion''s wall.


    "Since when did you know?" Yao-ren asked. "I thought my concealment was perfect."


    "Sometimes, what''s important isn''t what you can see, but what you aren''t seeing."


    "So based on a hunch?" Yao-ren protested. "How?"


    "Give it some thought." Ji smiled and held up a hand. "I hope you have no ¡ª hm, what had Molam said? Ah, no more complaints."


    "That wasn''t how the boy used that word." Yao-ren seemed miffed.


    "Words are just thoughts given form. I''m sure you know what I mean. The boy said something about displeasure with the results?"


    "No. ''Hoping for the result to be changed.''"


    Ji gave Yao-ren a knowing look. "Well you were listening quite early then."


    When Yao-ren did not respond, Ji decided he was done prodding him. Relaxing the small smile from his face, Ji asked, "I assume you read the Mursa''s bookkeeping?"


    "Yes. And you were right," Yao-ren reported."Mursa Shang''s caravan was arranged to transfer more than half of JiangXi''s food and wealth resources to Oasis on behalf of the City Lord Agytha."


    Ji sighed heavily, and tried to empty his mind. When the surface of his mind felt still, Ji sunk heavy stones into its bottomless ocean in the form of questions. Why had this been arranged? The only side to benefit from any of this was Oasis and the Lord of Sands. How had it been possible? Because somehow, the Prince had agreed to give the position of City Lord to an agent of Oasis. But if so, why had the Empire agreed to allow Oasis to pilfer from itself?


    He waited for an idea or thought to emerge, as they always did, like bubbles surfacing from the depths ¨C but none came. Ji opened his eyes, inhaling the crisp air of the night. He was only met with more questions. Why had the Prince agreed to allow any of this to happen?


    Only one thing was for sure. "Something has changed at Oasis." Ji rubbed a knuckle into the pressure point between his eyes in a vain attempt to will an idea into existence. He had only himself to blame, for he had never returned to Oasis for a visit.


    "So will you tell the boy?"


    Ji looked down at Yao-ren with surprise. The man sported a sly smile. "You agreed to keep him informed, yes, Whale of ZhiXia?"


    He contemplated whether sharing this information could go poorly. "... I think I will," he pondered aloud. "He may react differently to being shown the whole picture instead of being denied it." Plus, Ji wondered if Molam would have an idea of what was happening in Oasis.


    "... I see. Then if there''s nothing else, I''ll be taking my leave now before Molam enters his room."


    "Don''t kill him." Ji reminded Yao-ren. "The Oracle has other plans."


    "I''ve changed my mind on that front." The man turned and melted into the shadows, his words floating to Ji. "The two of you were right. I was throwing my grief at an easier target than the one I should be aiming for."


    Moments after Yao-ren left, a tickling sensation pressed against Ji''s senses, causing him to look far off into the distance. The presence of a Domain he recognized approached the city from the distant edge of his own Domain.


    Ji tensed his legs and leapt from the Jadeite Cliffs, disappearing into the night sky.


    ***


    "That''s JiangXi City." Mursa Khan pointed out to Nettie. The two of them rode at the front of the caravan, with the Mursa''s Domain thinly covering the mursashu caravan train to prevent the worst of IceMourne''s divine snow. "I don''t believe you have been here before?"


    "Nettie has not," Nettie replied. "Grandfather only brought Nettie to ZhiXia City to meet the Oracle once." She paused. "Nettie dislikes traveling."


    This was, perhaps, the first time Mursa Khan wondered if it were apt for him to address another Titled One by name alone and not by Title. His mursashu had found her half-frozen, wrapped in the color-shifting cloak she bundled about her shoulders for warmth. Two bright dark eyes peered into the night sky. A lock of curly black hair had escaped her cloak, dangling over her dark brown forehead. It swayed back and forth, lagging just a moment behind the sway of their wagon on the snowy roads. To the casual, unknowing observer, this dark-skinned little girl could have just been any girl with Oasian features, and not the world''s current Prodigy.


    "Hmph. I suppose it''s silly of me to think Flangel the Wise would have brought you into the Empire''s territory," Mursa Khan observed. "He probably wanted to keep you out of the Prince''s reach."


    The idea, once verbalized, made Mursa Khan glance sheepishly at Nettie. It seemed to be such a poor thing to say when they had just rescued the girl who claimed to be the sole survivor of Techoria. To his knowledge, the girl had not slept for the past week, perhaps still terrified of what she had seen at Techoria.


    "I''m sorry," he murmured. "That was ¡ª I shouldn''t have said that. I don''t know what I was thinking."


    "Nettie thinks there is nothing wrong with thinking out loud. Nettie forgives you anyways."


    As Mursa, Khan had traveled to many places and seen much of the world. But few experiences unnerved him the way the current Prodigy spoke. Something about her precise enunciation did not match the image of the little girl sitting next to him as he drove his wagon.


    Paradyne, his assistant and designated successor, saw his look and changed the awkward subject for him. "We must really thank you for modifying our wheels, Prodigy." The young man made a sitting half-bow to the Prodigy, his lanky, dark brown hair falling to the side of his face as he bent forward. "Without your help, we would have probably needed Spring''s Blessings to reach JiangXi with our goods."


    The little girl pulled her knees up to her chest. "Nettie thinks it was merely for both our benefits for transportation to be smoother."


    Mursa Khan exchanged a look with Paradyne, who nodded. His designated successor should have the insight to understand the girl seemed to be weak to compliments.


    "Regardless, it is an incredible design," Paradyne spoke enthusiastically. "When we accepted this contract, we only had the barest inklings of how to pull such a large train of caravans through IceMourne''s divine snow. To be able to travel on the snow-covered roads like this opens up so much for trade! I feel that if it becomes even more refined, the cities will no longer need to fear ¡ª"


    Mursa Khan felt the large presence enter his Domain just as Nettie put down her knees. The two of them looked up at the night sky ¡ª Mursa Khan held up a hand and Paradyne fell silent. His assistant then followed their gaze to the skies, only for the road in front of them to explode in a violent shower of illuminating snow. The horses pulling his carriage reared up and whinnied in terror, to the point where Mursa Khan had to yank them down by the reins.


    As the displaced snow floated back down to earth, Mursa Khan flinched. A foreign Domain surged forward, flicking aside his control over his space like an adult pushing away a problematic child. When the dense aura bore down on him, a shiver ran down his back, and a deep voice echoed from within the powdery snow obscuring his vision.


    "Little Khan and his caravan."


    And the Whale of ZhiXia walked out of the shimmering snowfall.

 Ch 30: Prodigy

    Some things you will only understand when you see.


    Some things you will only understand when you try.


    Some things you will only understand when you fail.


    Some things you will only understand when you cease.


    ¡ª Excerpt from Meditations, by the Red Emperor


    <hr>


    As the Whale of ZhiXia took another deliberate step towards the mursashu caravan, his voice lowered to a grinding gravel and his eyes took on an indigo glow. "I wonder if you can tell me why you are traveling to JiangXi with the Prodigy, little Khan?"


    "Little Khan?!" Paradyne''s indignant voice rang out from Mursa Khan''s side. Mursa Khan swore internally. His apprentice had never met the Whale. "I don''t know who you are, but this is the caravan of Mursa Khan. If you value your ¡ª"


    As Mursa Khan made to elbow Paradyne, the very air weighed down on him. No, the very air resisted him ¡ª the space he occupied was no longer his own, in full control of the Titled One walking towards them. Though Paradyne sat right next to him, it felt as though Mursa Khan floundered in thick liquid, unable to reach his apprentice before Paradyne''s eyes rolled over and his apprentice fell silent.


    "Young men seem to have much to say these days." The Whale continued his steady approach. "It has been quite some time, hasn''t it, little Khan? You have my permission to speak."


    "It¡ª it has been quite a while indeed, Master Ji! I apologize for my apprentice''s disrespect." Mursa Khan found his voice higher pitched than he would have liked it to be. He cleared his throat, then tried to relax it before he continued. "I am traveling to JiangXi to fulfill a contract to deliver goods. The Prodigy ¡ª my apologies, Nettie ¡ª is with me because we found her alone along the road and picked her up."


    The Whale continued walking towards them. "Goods?"


    "Food, mostly. Sacks of grain, smoked meats, hard vegetables. Oh, and four wagons of firewood." Mursa Khan swallowed. Cold sweat collected on the back of his neck, chilly in the frigid air. "I assure you I am not transporting anything that Sanctuary would take issue with."


    "And the name of your client?"


    Mursa Khan blinked. "I cannot possibly tell you ¡ª"


    "The client."


    "But ¡ª" he protested, "privacy matters, so long as it is nothing illegal ¡ª"


    "I am not robbing you, little Khan." The Whale had walked right up to the caravan, placing a large hand on the nearest horse''s mane and sliding it down the horse''s body, brushing off snow as he came closer. Though sitting atop the wagon, Mursa Khan found himself eye to eye with the indigo glow of the Whale''s eyes, a testament to how tall the Whale stood. "Merely asking a question: Who contracted you?"


    Mursa Khan looked down. "The Empire of the Sun."


    "Which Titled One?"


    "Master Ji, I really cannot¡ª"


    Though he was not touched, Mursa Khan felt the Whale''s hand stretch out to reach slowly for his head as he stared down at the wooden boards of his wagon. The large hand pressed ever so gently on the back of Mursa Khan''s head, much like the way he remembered when he was just a little boy. Even now, a grown man in his fifties, Mursa Khan felt as small under that hand as he had as a child.


    "On account on having watched you grow up as Mursa Shawoon''s apprentice, I assure you I will allow you to complete your contract as soon as you tell me what I want to know, little Khan." The pressure lifted off the back of his head. "To make it easier for you, ZhiXia City will remember this."


    Mursa Khan looked up cautiously. "Sanctuary will? Does that mean¡ª"


    "Whether the Oracle will see you or not is another matter entirely. I speak for ZhiXia City only, not the Oracle or Sanctuary." The Whale''s voice became soft, and dangerously so. "Your client''s Title, little Khan. I sincerely wish for you to consider your answer."


    Mursa Khan inhaled the crispy night air and closed his eyes, then exhaled slowly, blowing the air out from his pursed lips.


    "The Islander."


    "And you came from Crimson City." A statement, not a question.


    "Yes." Mursa Khan confirmed. At this point, what else could he hide?


    "I see." The intense pressure receded and Mursa Khan huffed a sigh of relief, then jolted as Paradyne''s limp head fell onto his shoulder.


    The Whale continued as though nothing had happened. "I am glad to see you safe and sound, Nettie. Are you hurt?"


    Mursa Khan''s attention shifted to his right in astonishment. The Prodigy had stood up on her seat and bowed to the Whale of ZhiXia.


    "Nettie is functionally able. Nettie thanks you for your concern, Whale of ZhiXia."


    "I told you before you may call me Master Ji." The Whale turned to Mursa Khan, the indigo gone from his eyes. "You have my gratitude for saving Nettie."


    Mursa Khan bowed his head again. "It was nothing, Master Ji."


    "I assume you have no issue with me escorting you the rest of the short journey to JiangXi. You will have the protection of my Domain."


    Mursa Khan recognized when he could not refuse an offer. "Of course, Master Ji. I can ask my ¡ª" Mursa Khan glanced at Paradyne''s limp form, "¡ª my people to prepare a horse for you, if you would like."


    "Thank you for the offer, little Khan, but there''s no need. I can easily walk at the head of your caravan while protecting them."


    The Whale reached over and passed a hand over Paradyne''s face. His apprentice jerked awake with a palm flailing into Mursa Khan''s jaw. "Ah! ¡ª what? Mursa, the ¡ª"


    Mursa Khan held a hand over Paradyne''s mouth, giving his assistant a stern glare, his eyes flicking to the Whale, who seemed to pay them no mind.


    "I am sorry for your loss." The Whale offered a hand to the Prodigy, his face soft and somber. "Will you take a walk with me, Nettie? I would like to hear directly from you what happened."


    Nettie looked at the hand, then at the ground at the packed snow. "Nettie can talk, but Nettie does not want to walk on the snow. Nettie finds it to be cold."


    "I could carry you if you would like. Just like when we first met."


    The little girl held her arms up excitedly. "Up!"


    The Whale picked her up and shifted her to his shoulder. So large was the difference in their sizes that the girl could comfortably sit on just his broad right shoulder.


    Mursa Khan bowed his head. "Please walk safely, Master Ji."


    The Whale gave Mursa Khan a nod, and the two walked off into the darkness.


    Paradyne''s wet breathing against Mursa Khan''s palm reminded him he was still holding his apprentice down, and he let go. Looking at his hand in distaste, Mursa Khan wiped his palm dry against the mat he sat on, and Paradyne quickly patted his cheeks dry against his dark brown sleeve.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    "Mursa." Paradyne spoke with a tinge of awe in his voice. "By¡­ by ''Master Ji,'' do you mean that was¡ª"


    "The Whale of ZhiXia? Yes."


    "I did not know you were capable of referring to the Whale of ZhiXia by name. Does that mean¡­?"


    "I know what you''re thinking. And no. Inherited Titles do not weigh anywhere equally against self-earned Titles in ranking." Mursa Khan shook his head. "Not even close. It is only because I met him when I was young that he gives me this sort of special permission. When you inherit my Title, remember to never insult a self-made Titled One by addressing them by name. Do you understand?"


    "We''re alive." Paradyne breathed. "I for sure thought¡ª"


    "Paradyne." He grabbed Paradyne by his wrist. "Your Mursa is speaking to you."


    Paradyne''s eyes snapped into focus at Mursa Khan''s warning. "I am sorry, Mursa. I understand. I will not put the mursashu at risk."


    "Good. That was your first time seeing him, right?"


    Paradyne nodded.


    "And now, Paradyne, you need to remember that feeling." Mursa Khan spoke as seriously as he could muster. "When you first inherit my Title, you will feel invincible with the aura you inherit." Mursa Khan squeezed Paradyne''s wrist, "It bears repeating, because the Whale of ZhiXia has not been active for most of your life. Respect him. He is a reasonable man and would not take offense at most things, but a mistake may very well be your last."


    "I understand, Mursa."


    Mursa Khan was grateful that Paradyne had probably fainted while he feebly protested against answering the Whale''s question.


    "Hmph." Mursa Khan grunted. "Now go inform the others of what happened. I''m sure the more sensitive mursashi are panicking about the Domain they don''t recognize, but if they''re going to cling onto their positions as mursashi they will get this caravan moving. Mursa has spoken."


    ***


    Molam never expected the Whale of ZhiXia to walk into his study with a little Oasian girl on his shoulders. Then again, he did not expect the Whale of ZhiXia to come seek him out specifically after their initial meeting. The sheer difference in their status meant he had always been the one doing the seeking.


    "A lost child?" He asked cautiously, noting the girl''s Oasian features.


    "This is the Prodigy."


    Molam''s brush paused over his paperwork, and his eyes flicked upwards again to look at the little girl on the Whale''s shoulder. Small, with big eyes and a small button nose, the girl''s cloak seemed a size too big and her short, wiry hair splayed over her ample forehead. Large brown eyes peeked out from beneath her hood, glancing about his study with curiosity. By Molam''s reckoning, she couldn''t have seen more than six Winter''s Sorrows.


    The youngest Titled One in history. Flangel the Wise''s granddaughter. The current Prodigy.


    Molam hung his brush on a nearby rack and blew gently on his page, then turned his full attention to the two. "Well then." He gestured at the chair in front of him. "Please, have a seat. May I offer you some tea? Prodigy, I don''t know if you like tea, but¡ª"


    "Nettie." The girl said. "Nettie has a name. Please use it."


    Molam raised an eyebrow at the Whale, who seemed to shrug as he pulled out the offered chair and set the Prodigy down from his shoulder. The large man seemed especially gentle as he bundled up the girl''s large cloak around her in a nest-like fashion.


    "You are¡­ giving me permission to call you by name?" Molam confirmed.


    "Nettie dislikes her Title." The little girl stretched in her seat, then yawned. "Nettie is tired," she declared through her yawn, showing little white teeth.


    The Whale caught the Prodigy''s drooping head with a gentle and encouraging hand as he looked at Molam. "I found her with Mursa Khan''s caravan, which will arrive soon after. I brought her here because I cannot keep her with me."


    Molam held up a hand, trying to process the various amounts of information being conveyed. He was already trying his best to ignore the mismatch between the little girl''s speech and her appearance. "Slow down. Mursa Khan''s caravan is arriving soon? You found the Prodigy¡ª" he felt the girl''s eyes on him, and hastily corrected himself, "¡ª I mean, you found Nettie with Mursa Khan? I feel like you should have started off with that when you reported this information?"


    "I am not reporting to you, but informing you," the Whale spoke slowly. "You wanted to be informed of these things, yes?"


    "Informing." Molam repeated. He rubbed at the temples on his head, his preferred trick to alleviate stress. He could confront the Whale about this but more pressing matters were at hand. "Fine, let''s start there. Please inform me as to why a mursashu caravan is arriving at JiangXi right at the tail''s end of Winter''s Sorrow? They traveled throughout Winter''s Sorrow? Is Mursa Khan out of his mind? And why would they even have the Pro¡ª Nettie? I thought she was at ¡ª" He glanced at Nettie, thinking of Kalle. "¡ª elsewhere."


    "Nettie knows of Techoria. Nettie left Techoria." The little girl murmured sleepily. Molam bit his lip as the Whale snorted. "Nettie would like to sleep now."


    "She should sleep in this room while we are talking." The Whale gave Molam a knowing look. Molam understood immediately. Titled or not, Nettie was just a little girl and the Whale intended to keep an eye on her.


    He went to his door and opened it, requesting a warm blanket and some bedding from his very confused guardsmen. But they relayed his request and soon Molam closed the door behind him, shaking out the bedding onto the ground near his desk. Realizing he had forgotten to request for a pillow, Molam pulled his cloak off the back of his chair and bundled it up before standing up.


    "Will this work, Nettie?"


    "Nettie is so tired, Nettie could sleep anywhere," she declared as she tried to stand up, then wobbled her way to lay down on his makeshift bed. After a moment, she curled up and wrapped the blanket around her frame. "This is better than fields of endless snow or a moving wagon. Thank you."


    The Whale knelt down next to the small bundle and smoothed out the blanket over her frame. "No one will hurt you," the large man promised. "Sleep now."


    Moments later, the Whale stood up and settled in his seat. Molam did the same, and the Whale gestured lightly around the room. All of the candles except the one on his desk winked out of existence. Molam pressed his lips together; he would need to relight several later to continue his paperwork.


    Wood creaked audibly as the Whale leaned forward, the candlelight bringing his face into sharp relief as he whispered to Molam. "I will answer your questions now."


    Molam composed himself, then asked a flurry of questions in a similar whisper. What was Mursa Khan doing here? Why had they traveled during Winter''s Sorrow? What was their goal? Moreover, why were they traveling with the Prodigy? And finally, what did the Prodigy know about the fall of Techoria?


    The Whale answered his questions one by one, and even revealed more information that Molam had wondered about but had little to go on. Mursa Shang''s now annulled contract with Agytha. Mursa Khan''s contract with the Empire, brokered by the Islander. Molam''s head swirled with implications and possibilities as he guessed at why these events had been set in motion. And lastly, the Prodigy.


    He glanced at the small bundle in the darkness. "So Flangel the Wise wanted her to live."


    "She told me Master Flangel instructed her to go to the Fallen Star Pavilion." The Whale spoke softly. "But she wouldn''t tell me why."


    Molam stroked his chin, deep in thought. "It must have been something Flangel the Wise prepared ahead of time, no?"


    "I do not know. It fits his personality, but it''s not clear." The Whale shrugged. "After all, Master Flangel was the former Prodigy. Who knows what he is thinking?"


    "We can only protect her from the Empire." Molam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I assume you want me ¡ª the Dao ¡ª to look after her so you can be free to act, Master Ji."


    "Yes."


    "Very well. She can join us on our way back to ZhiXia City and Sanctuary. The Oracle will decide." Molam decided there should be no difficulty adding the Prodigy ¡ª no, Nettie ¡ª to the returning caravan. The mursashu had children of their own, after all. "Will that be all?"


    The candleholders on Molam''s desk had been modified with rudimentary metal plates attached at an angle so Molam could cast more light down towards his papers. Kalle''s work, of course, but this meant that the candlelight could scarcely illuminate Master Ji''s features as the tall man stared down at Molam.


    "You are still set on going home, knowing all of this?" Master Ji''s low voice echoed down at him. "Techoria is destroyed and something has happened between Oasis and the Empire. The Prince is in slumber, an opportunity we may not have for another century. The world is in flux again, yet you seem unmoved by all of this."


    Molam glanced up at the Whale through the candlelit darkness. "You are older than most people I''ve met, so let me ask you this, Master Ji: When is the world not in flux?"


    The Whale did not respond.


    ***


    Nettie curled up under the sheets, listening to their conversation without a change in her breathing. Her thoughts drifted in and out as she picked up on tidbits of information she thought would come useful later. Of particular interest was how Master Ji spoke to the man previously known to Nettie as "Carlton." She wondered why Master Ji seemed so patient with Molam.


    When the conversation came back to her, she clutched at Grandfather''s Ring. Her Grandfather''s voice echoed in her thoughts again.


    "Deliver my Ring to Head Scholar Panmoru at the Fallen Star Pavilion. He will understand. If the Empire or the Oracle would take it from you, destroy it instead."


    She had been unable to reach the Fallen Star Pavilion by herself. While she trusted Master Ji to keep her alive, she did not like the Oracle.


    And now they were taking her to the Oracle. Something about this Molam heading home. What did that mean? And Oasis, where Grandfather said he was born. What was wrong with it? Questions fed her curiosity, but while her thoughts swirled with ideas ¡ª such as the curious candleholders on that desk, a rudimentary implementation but she could appreciate the ingenuity ¡ª her consciousness drifted in and out.


    She allowed herself to relax, the events of the past few days catching up to her. She had been unable to sleep the several days she had spent with the mursashu, in fear of their making a move on her or the Ring while she slept. But at the very least, she could trust Master Ji to keep her safe.


    Exhaustion roiled over her, and this time Nettie allowed herself to succumb to sleep.

 Ch 31: Springs Blessings

    We are all victims of leaders who think they are right.


    The nuance of being right lies in understanding how you could be wrong.


    ¡ª Notes from the journal of Flangel the Wise


    <hr>


    For those holed up within their homes to weather Winter''s Sorrow, the pitter-patter of Spring''s Blessings came as a welcome sound for all. Even the most protective of parents could do little to stop the joyous children from running out into the streets, dancing gaily in the silver rain as it washed away the last mounds of IceMourne''s divine snow.


    Gleeful shouts and whooping laughter echoed from the last few people who had shored themselves away from the bitter cold, for the silver rain had always signaled an end to the misery of Winter''s Sorrow. It heralded fresh air, a gradual return to warmth, and of course, the unmistakable freedom that was stretching one''s limbs in a wider space under the endless skies.


    Whether from discerning eyes or overactive imagination, one could even hear murmurs of children pointing into the thickest clouds in the skies as some claimed to see RainBringer''s coiling shadow. Adults listened in a mollifying manner, willing to entertain the fantasies of the children as they breathed their own inner sighs of relief.


    They had survived another Winter''s Sorrow.


    The gates of JiangXi were a different matter. The mursashu handlers cursed under their breath as they put on large-brimmed straw hats, doing final inspections of a train of twenty or so wagons. Provisions were tallied repeatedly, and broad wheels designed for the expected muddy roads were scrutinized for any flaws that would cause mishaps for the journey to ZhiXia City.


    Molam wondered if he had chosen incorrectly to come down here to hide from the other members of the Dao as he suffered through Mursa Shang and Mursa Khan''s dispute.


    "Enough." Mursa Shang didn''t even glance at Mursa Khan as he personally checked a wagon''s tarpaulin for holes. Seemingly satisfied, he then dumped a bucket of water over the wagon, spreading it all over before glancing within to look for any leaks. "It is not up for debate."


    "Why?" Mursa Khan cajoled, poking his head in from the other side. "Anything is up for debate, my dear friend."


    "Not this." Mursa Shang snorted. "I negotiated it with the Dao. A fair bargain, through the purchase of my caravan''s wealth." He retracted his head and nodded to Jyuni, who followed him with a notebook for documentation. "This one is good. Load it."


    "I am not asking for your place, simply to come along with you." Mursa Khan followed Mursa Shang to the next wagon, Paradyne walking several steps behind his Mursa. "Are we not all mursashu? It costs you nothing to allow your own people to be there when you ask the Oracle our question."


    "I seem to recall an incident two Summers ago," Mursa Shang inspected the next wagon''s tarpaulin. "My caravan had left Oasis and we met halfway in the Endless Sands, yes? But an encounter with the sand wurms had upset my wagons carrying water, and I had asked you to sell some of yours to me when we crossed paths." His voice became cold. "As I recall it, you had no less than five wagonfulls of water at the time when you only needed two to reach Oasis. Remind me, Jyuni, what had Mursa Khan charged us at that time?"


    Jyuni turned her impassive face to Mursa Khan. "Mursa Khan had charged you for three crates of moon melon, six baskets of furong leaves, one hundred gold coins, and, in his words, ''enough jade to balance the scales with your golden coins.''" she answered coolly.


    "Ah yes, my apologies, Mursa Khan, my memory degrades with age," Mursa Shang poured another bucket of water over the wagon, then peered within the wagon. "Perhaps you can remind me ¡ª exactly how much greater the market price did you charge me then?"


    Mursa Khan did not peer inside this one as he stood there with a hefty sigh. "Your memory seems to be good enough to remember petty grudges," he grumbled.


    "The lives of my people cannot be petty grudges." Mursa Shang threw Mursa Khan an icy glare, before nodding at Jyuni. "Load this, but have Teyasu replace the rope before we set out. It is quite frayed." He flicked his eyes back to Mursa Khan. "And you dare call yourself my own people when you take advantage of us?"


    "This pettiness seems beneath you, Mursa Shang," Mursa Khan growled. "You act as if you''ve never charged me more than market price when you knew I was desperate."


    "Desperate to seize an opportunity to gouge someone else, maybe! When I raise prices on you, I am only getting some cut of your opportunity! But when you raise prices on me, I am desperate for my people!"


    "My two Mursa," Molam began, feeling the stares of the mursashu around them. But Mursa Khan held a finger up in his direction as he stared back at Mursa Shang.


    "I would not have charged you more than I think you could pay. You could pay, and your people were saved by your ability to pay." Mursa Khan''s voice, forcibly low, caused Molam to tense up. He saw Paradyne and Jyuni take an instinctive step backwards before Mursa Khan continued. "Not a life was lost, yes?"


    Mursa Shang''s eyebrows came dangerously close. "Is that how you measure it, Mursa Khan? Money was lost. Value was lost! I only raise prices on you when I know you will gain more from it! When we both will benefit! How can you not see and understand that sometimes, when you take in excess from me, you are only taking from your own people? Even Mursa Allyce understands this basic concept! And I noticed you never even mentioned the thought of inviting her."


    "I will ask the Oracle our ancestral question myself," he turned away, then rotated his head to the side and spoke out of the corner of his mouth. "But. In respect to our shared Titles, I will also give you and Mursa Allyce a faithful recounting of the Oracle''s answer this Summer''s Warmth in Oasis. When our paths cross, of course. As I said at the beginning, this is not up for debate."


    Mursa Khan clenched his fist, then his eyes flickered towards Molam. Molam gave a helpless gesture, but even if he could convince a particularly irate Mursa Shang, he had little desire to add more to the mix when he returned to the Oracle. He was already gambling that the Oracle had no actual reason to refuse the Mursa, and would agree to a meeting if not to receive the elderwood, but at least keep him alive. An ironic thought flickered across his mind. If he died as a result of the contract, would it only be half as painful since God Yven already had half his soul?


    Seeing it hopeless, Mursa Khan grunted at Mursa Khan, "My caravan will be making a visit to Oasis for Summer''s Warmth after JiangXi, and perhaps HaiFeng after that come Autumn''s Colors. I wish you safe travels, Mursa Shang." He gestured at Paradyne to follow him and left the gate.


    Paradyne gave Molam an apologetic incline of his head. "Thank you for your patience," then followed his Mursa out.


    Molam breathed a sigh of relief. Inherited or not, a fight between the two Mursa would still be a clash of Titled Ones. For the sake of the wagons, he was glad that both Mursa seemed to have a cool head on their shoulders.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    "I apologize. You had to see an ugly exchange," Mursa Shang''s forcibly cool voice echoed out from within the next caravan. "It wasn''t what I called you here for."


    "It happens," Molam replied mildly. "I didn''t know you had such¡­ a philosophy, when it came to competition between the Mursa. Do all the Mursa have different methods?"


    "A mere disagreement of values. I am sure Mursa Khan and Mursa Allyce have their own thoughts on the matter when it comes to the fundamental goal of keeping our people alive so we can return to Mur one day." Mursa Shang pulled his head out and marked several spots on the tarpaulin with a finger, leaving faintly golden imprints. "Have Teyasu look at these areas and decide if this should be replaced. I trust his judgment," he told Jyuni, then turned back to Molam. "I wanted to reconfirm the amount of members you will be bringing on our trip. So far, I have you, the Whale, the one you call GloomSire, Shurra, and you said four children that need to be brought to Sanctuary. Is that still final?"


    "And me."


    Molam almost jolted at Primrose''s voice. She had materialized out of nowhere to his right, her features almost hidden by a wet hood. Her purple eyes winked at Molam under the hood. "I presume that won''t be an issue?"


    Molam masked his face with an impassive glance. "I thought you were working on the more¡­" he glanced at Mursa Shang, then murmured, "adamant residents."


    "At some point, every flower learns to lean with the wind instead of against it." Primrose pulled off her hood, red-orange curls bouncing out. Her hair had grown longer during Winter''s Sorrow. "Don''t worry," she added, seeing Molam''s expression. "I used no methods that would breed resentment. I will give you a recount during our trip to JiangXi."


    Knowing Primrose was giving him little reason to leave her behind, Molam could only nod his head. "As you just heard," he looked at Mursa Shang, "Primrose will be joining."


    Mursa Shang''s eyes seemed full of mirth before he glanced at Jyuni, who made a note. "You may fill one of those sacks with whatever you wish to bring along," the Mursa pointed at a neat pile of folded burlap sacks on the far wall to Primrose. "Bring it here by nightfall if you don''t wish to be carrying it on your lap the entire trip."


    "I will. Thank you for making accommodations for me, Mursa Shang," Primrose smiled at the Mursa. "I appreciate it very much."


    The Mursa smiled back for a brief moment before he glanced at Molam again. "We leave at dawn. Anyone who is late will be left behind."


    ***


    "So. You''re leaving."


    Molam sat down opposite Kalle in his study. No, not his study. It belonged to Kalle now.


    "At dawn, yes." Molam confirmed. "I understand you have matters to attend to; no need to send us off."


    "You, Shurra, and Primrose. Leaving me all alone to deal with your city." Kalle rearranged himself on Molam''s old seat. Molam noticed something off about the chair, and suspected that Kalle had already modified the chair''s armrests to be wider, befitting the Northerner''s larger build. At least, Molam suspected it was a modified chair. Only Kalle would have opted to do that rather than bring in his own.


    "Not my city," Molam smiled back. "The Dao''s city. Run it well ¡ª it should serve as a strong location for the Dao to build a foundation."


    "Yes yes, the very important city you and the other leadership members are leaving, I can see that very well." Kalle raised an eyebrow at Molam, then asked quietly. "You''re absolutely sure the Whale can''t be convinced to stay?"


    Molam chuckled, hoping to put Kalle at ease. "It will be fine. The Empire has much bigger worries right now than JiangXi, given the Prince has fallen into slumber. You will not be disturbed for some time; they believe JiangXi can be taken back anytime."


    "You are quite relaxed considering the Whale will be protecting you," Kalle grumbled under his breath, but then produced a small black pouch from the various pockets on his coat and placed it on the table. Molam reached forward to pick it up, then glanced inside to see three small dark stones, and Kalle continued. "For your flametool. I only had time to make three, but I hope the Oracle helps you recover your aura soon. I assume you know how to swap them out; the drained ones won''t contain any aura and can be discarded without worry."


    "Flametool?" Molam raised an eyebrow of his own. "That''s what you''re going to call it?"


    Kalle glowered. "It conveys the function," he muttered. "Though I did consider ''flamemaker.''"


    "It lights candles," Molam grinned, "How about ''candle-lighter''?"


    "Candle-lighter? How is that any better?" Kalle''s face scrunched up in distaste, then his eyes wrinkled into a smile above his bushy beard. "If you like that name then claim it yourself. Shall I refer to you as Candle Lighter from now on? The leader of the Dao: Candle Lighter!"


    "Hmm, why not? It makes me sound so useful," Molam smiled back, snapping a finger in the air to conjure a small burst of flame. It winked out of existence, leaving only a trace of heat in the air as evidence of its passing. "I can light candles! Truly a Title-worthy feat, isn''t it? Imagine the Tempest''s face if people said she lost to the Candle Lighter. She''d come after me in a heartbeat."


    For a moment the two of them snickered in silence together, no doubt sharing a similar image of the Tempest''s indignant look. Then the laughter died down as Kalle''s features became sober again.


    "At least with candles, only the truly blind would be able to claim they don''t see what you do." The alchemist leaned forward and locked his gaze with Molam''s. "I know you''ve been ignoring your few detractors within the Dao, but I''m really only sitting here because you and Primrose are both gone. Please come back soon."


    Guilt stiffened Molam''s neck, yet all he could do was nod. "Primrose should be able to come back before Summer''s Warmth."


    Kalle''s head tilted. For a moment, the alchemist seemed to want to say something, then sighed and gave Molam a bushy half-smile. "I would say ''I look forward to seeing you again,'' but in the stories around the HeartHomes that sort of statement always seems to be a prelude to one''s death." He stood up and held out a hand to Molam. "So let me say it this way instead: May you find warmth whenever you need it."


    Molam stood as well, gripping Kalle''s larger hand. "Thank you, Kalle." He then gripped a fistful of his black cloak, the same one Priestess Komura had given him, but modified by Kalle to be both flameproof and to entrap warmth. "With what you''ve made for me ¡ª for all of the people ¡ª I believe you''ll bring warmth anywhere you are."


    "Then I hope you find me whenever you need me, my friend."


    My friend. Molam''s throat tightened. "I hope I''m never in such a need."


    Kalle raised an eyebrow. "I see you''ve been practicing your tact."


    Molam laughed at that. "Weren''t you the one who told me to stop looking for people only when I needed them? Something like that?"


    A grin from Kalle. "Then find me when you have moon wine to share."


    "Such expensive tastes for an alchemist." Molam chuckled. Moon wine was only ever produced in Oasis, and Molam doubted he would ever gain possession of even a cask of moon wine. "If I ever have any."


    They shook hands and Molam left, trying to push aside the unspoken question in Kalle''s shining blue eyes. Kalle had called him a friend, and Molam hadn''t denied it. The man knew Molam wasn''t being entirely truthful, but had trusted Molam regardless. Kalle''s look of questionable doubt, smoothed over by the glassy-eyed look of one who had convinced himself that the answer would come sooner or later, ate away at Molam''s conscience.


    For a brief moment, he wanted to run back into that study and tell Kalle that this would be the last time. But he shoved it down. He had done what he could for Kalle to ensure that JiangXi''s administration could be easily overseen, and no doubt Primrose could be convinced to come back soon. Or at the very least, they were competent enough to resolve it by themselves.


    ***


    The Oracle peered into the waters of her stone bowl, reading a message left for her in Ji''s handwriting.


    "The child is coming back soon."


    Good. It has become tiresome to force conversation onto someone constantly fascinated by water. The phoenix preened itself, perched on the shoulder of God Sholt''s statue. It peered down at the Oracle, who did not look back. You will hold to your promise to the boy.


    "The child put his life on the line to bargain with what he is not entitled to give."


    The boy did what you asked. Surely it is nothing for you to tell the people of Mur about DuskWing''s curse.


    The Oracle sent ripples across the surface of the water with a finger to dissipate the scrying. "Knowing does nothing for them."


    They deserve to know. Let them decide. The phoenix glided down to alight on the stone bowl''s edge, vaporizing all of the water within as it commanded the Oracle''s attention. As it is with the boy. I will not stop you, but the boy will see through your plan. It is so forced that ¡ª


    "What would you have me do?" The Oracle interrupted. "Something more elaborate? A maneuver so intricate that the child would have no choice but to accept what he needs to do? Forced or not, that child knows what we want enough to see through any path we place him on ¡ª that is why I chose him. I can respect your wishes to let him choose, but you and I both know that the Prince cannot sleep forever." Her voice dropped a tone. "We cannot squander the opportunity Flangel created for us. We cannot count on the Prince being this vulnerable again. If you believe there will be more opportunities in the future, I will hear it. But if you agree, we must do what we can."


    This is not what the Hero wished for. The spirit''s gaze seemed somber. Humans being used. Unable to decide what they truly want to do in life, ever influenced by the machinations of those beyond their ken.


    "Do you think the Hero wished for the Seal on the Stairs to be forcibly opened too?" The Oracle held out an inviting arm for the spirit bird. "The Prince has surely seen the SunFlower, and it may be enough for him to finish what the Red Emperor started. You know what is at stake. We cannot ignore the latent catastrophe in deference to one child''s freedom of will."


    You will give him the chance to choose. The phoenix glared at her, disregarding her held-out arm. And after he is allowed to return to the Castle in the Sky to see for himself.


    "It will happen. Promises must be kept, after all."


    After a moment, the phoenix stepped onto her arm and allowed her to bring it to her shoulder.


    And if what you and RainBringer have done is not enough to convince him, will you let him live his life freely?


    "I hardly think it will be an issue. Several months should have been enough for that child to develop bonds."

 Ch 32: The Way Home

    The throne deprives tranquility, taints companionships, questions principles, wearies discipline, and imposes servitude.


    An enviable seat. Sit upright to bleed.


    ¡ª Excerpt from Meditations, by the Red Emperor


    <hr>


    When Mursa Shang''s caravan left JiangXi, there had been an unspoken question as to which wagon the Whale of ZhiXia or GloomSire would travel in. But it seemed neither Titled One wanted to travel with the caravan, and Shurra followed the Whale of ZhiXia into the Slumbering Forest. Mursa Shang expressed initial discomfort with the idea of the Whale traveling so far away, but his objections were soon put to rest: the wide range of the Whale''s encompassing Domain kept the divine rain to a hazy mist over the caravan even from far away. Including Nettie''s improvements to the wheels for traction on muddy roads, many of the mursashu murmured with surprise at the ease of their travel.


    Mursa Shang''s prepared mursashu went about driving the caravan in a disciplined manner. Molam could not help but marvel at the practiced way the wagon drivers paced their wagons behind the Mursa''s leading wagon, with a consistent relay of information throughout the entire line. When an axle broke and two wheels cracked, the entire caravan responded immediately to the situation. While the repair workers arrived swiftly onto the scene, the mursasho, designated leaders of their specific groups, took stock of their assigned wagons. Some took the chance to switch out tired horses while several riders passed more rations from the wagons carrying food.


    Molam and Primrose sat in one of the large wagons with the four children, one of whom was Nettie. Primrose herself seemed content with sitting in silence next to Nettie in the wagon, her eyes closed to rest but with a stiffness in her back signaling a subtle alertness. Molam recognized the other three as the group that had attacked him on the day he arrived in JiangXi. Though he couldn''t remember all their names, he was almost certain that the leader''s name was Bryce. Bryce, for his own part, did not meet eyes with Molam, and the way all three shifted uncomfortably around him meant they remembered that encounter as well. Molam, quietly content with not bringing it up, had long decided there would be little to gain from such a confrontation with children.


    Then the day came where Primrose opened her eyes, pushing aside the tarpaulin flap to peek outside. "ZhiXia City," she announced, then stepped aside. Molam and the others looked past her and saw the fan-shaped city through the foggy mist, and above it all, the looming shadow of YiZhi Mountain.


    Looking from afar, he saw the silhouettes of what could only be the Whale, GloomSire, and Shurra standing at the entrance to ZhiXia. For some reason, he found it mildly amusing to see Shurra, who normally towered above him, look comparatively small next to the Whale.


    A wistful memory sauntered into Molam''s thoughts: walking towards YiZhi Mountain with a warm and fiery presence on his shoulder, a dome of bright orange flames covering him from the divine rain. A regal voice in his head, snarkily commenting on all his imperfections yet endearing all the same. Molam shook the thought away. This time would be different.


    He was going home.


    ***


    No sooner had the caravan reached the city''s perimeter did a runner come up to Molam''s wagon.


    "Mursa Shang requests your presence with him at Sanctuary."


    "How impatient," Molam sighed, but it could only be expected from the man. The Mursa had found this particular Winter''s Sorrow to be a lengthy wait, after all. He pushed himself up. "But I will go."


    "I''ll go with you." Primrose stood up, smoothing down her cloak. "It will be nice to stretch my legs again after sitting for so long."


    Molam grimaced internally, then began, "Perhaps you should stay here. Master Ji would like someone to look after Nettie, after all."


    "Nettie wants to come with."


    The two of them looked at the girl as she smoothed her cloak out, similar to Primrose. An upturned face looked at both of them with large bright eyes. "Nettie hopes that will be acceptable."


    "Perfectly so." Primrose took Nettie''s hand and led her off the wagon, turning around to lift the girl down to the ground. "Everything seems accounted for, then. Molam?" She turned without waiting for his response.


    The wagon driver laughed and waved at Molam. "Go on then. I''ll take the rest to Sanctuary''s orphanage. That''s where you were going to take them, right?"


    Molam glanced at the other children, who still seemed to avoid his gaze. "Yes. Thank you very much; the ride here was as smooth as could be."


    "The gratitude is mine," the wagon driver bowed his head to Molam. "If you can truly give our Mursa an audience with the Oracle, you will have given my people a chance to return to our ancestral home. Though I have never been there ¡ª the idea of home is something strange, yet familiar and comforting!"


    "It was nothing. A fair trade, to your Mursa." For a moment, the memory of another wagon driver''s smiling face flickered in Molam''s thoughts, and he adjusted his arm guard. The wagon driver looked quizzically at Molam, who had yet to step off, and Molam disembarked slowly. "I understand the desire to return home."


    "I can''t say I understand, only that I feel it." The man inclined his head again. "I look forward to seeing you again, Molam."


    An uncomfortable pause, which Molam filled with, "I hope to see you again as well." Times like this, he was glad that very few people in the world could See.


    Molam turned to see Primrose walking with Nettie in the distance. They had encountered Master Ji, who reached down and picked up Nettie to place her on his shoulder, ignoring the mud stains on her cloak. The wagon behind him pulled away, and Molam began following the two to Sanctuary.


    ***


    "The Oracle will see Molam first. Alone."


    Though Molam stared straight ahead at the Priestess'' finger pointing at him, he could feel all gazes falling upon him. The group greeting him at the entrance to Sanctuary had been larger than he expected: Primrose, Nettie, Mursa Shang, GloomSire, and the Whale. He recognized the two Priestesses that guided them through Sanctuary''s winding halls as the same ones from before.


    "I cannot allow that," Mursa Shang stepped forward. "You may not know, Priestesses, but Molam and I have a contract that stipulates¡ª"


    "The Oracle''s instructions were for Molam to enter first and alone." The Priestess with brown hair spoke in a tone that gave little room for argument. "I hope Mursa Shang understands that any disrespect for the Oracle''s wishes will be treated as animosity towards Sanctuary."


    Mursa Shang''s eyes flickered towards the Whale, who towered above them in silence. After a brief silence, the Mursa stepped backwards into the gathered group and glanced at Molam, who nodded. The Mursa had taken great care to ensure the elderwood was still at ZhiXia''s perimeter, no doubt as a final method of bargaining should things not go according to plan. Molam, however, secretly thought that if the Oracle commanded the Whale, the Mursa would swiftly find himself without a caravan.


    "If there are no other objections, then." The Priestess beckoned towards Molam, who walked up to the doors of the Inner Sanctum. The two bowed slightly, "Please. Enter, and proceed."


    He opened the door and stepped into darkness.


    ***


    Whether from the darkness or an actual temperature difference, Molam shivered upon stepping into the Inner Sanctum. Disregarding it, he took a step forward, hearing his footstep echoing within the darkness.


    But something felt off. On his second step, he recognized it. It was still dark. The Inner Sanctum had been illuminated by the Oracle''s glow the past few times, yet Molam now walked through pitch blackness with nothing but the sound of his footsteps echoing faintly off unseen walls and the sudden loudness of his own breathing.


    "You succeeded."


    An echoless voice. Molam held a hand forward, swaying it to and fro as he continued walking, hoping to not hit one of the pillars or statues.


    "I did. Did the Priestesses send me in at a poor time? I was under the impression you might not be one to sleep."


    "Ever irreverent. And yet, I will ignore it in light of your recent accomplishment. There is much to discuss."


    The Oracle''s voice seemed to come from everywhere in the darkness, making it difficult for Molam to navigate towards her. "I imagine all you want is to talk, given that I currently can''t see anything."


    If you are too tired to help the boy see, then I will do it. A red light flashed, then blinding iridescent flames erupted in the darkness, causing Molam to shield his eyes as the Inner Sanctum became awash in scarlet.


    There. The spirit descended from the epicenter of the flames lightly onto the Oracle''s shoulder, tucking in its wings. A reunion should not be so gloomy.


    "Fiery One." A rush of emotions filled Molam''s chest; he had not realized he missed the spirit until he heard its voice again in his head. "You look¡­ well."Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    The word you should be using is regal. And I will look better soon upon my rebirth.


    Molam saw that he had already walked past the encirclement of statues and had almost stepped onto the Oracle''s raised dais. The Oracle herself still knelt in the same position he had seen her last, the spirit''s illumination casting her normally white robes with a reddish hue. Next to her cushion, a smaller one held the spirit''s ruby egg.


    Then the Oracle''s white glow flickered into life, bathing the Inner Sanctum with a warm glow of peach-colored light and the mask''s face seemed to go back to normal again.


    Well? What happened to the conversation earlier? Perhaps either of you can be conversational with me as well?


    Molam and the Oracle stared at each other. Or at the very least, he stared at her ¡ª the twin holes in her dragon''s mask only seemed to return his gaze. The red light emanating from the spirit on her shoulder also cast the dragon mask into sharp relief. The colors of the mask, thrown off hue, gave the draconic features a snarling look of barely constrained anger.


    "The child knows what needs to be done." The Oracle''s eyes glimmered from behind her mask. "The Prince is in slumber and this is an opportunity worth taking."


    "No." Heat flushed in Molam''s cheeks. "We had a deal. I''ve done what you asked and you will open the Stairs."


    The unintended outburst echoed off the walls and pillars of the Inner Sanctum. Silence settled before the Oracle responded.


    "You will be able to go home, child. Despite you taking certain liberties with how you consider having finished your task, I will overlook it."


    The remark made Molam bristle. "You wanted me to retrieve JiangXi''s supply of the World Tree''s elderwood, then sent me to JiangXi without resources, information, or means. And I did it. And now you''re complaining that my task is not finished to your liking?"


    "Did you not utilize my mark?"


    Molam blinked. "I did, of course, but that''s hardly¡­"


    "Did you not receive help from Primrose and the group I put together?"


    The Oracle''s framing put Molam into further fury. "That''s something I meant to bring up with you. To not tell me you planned on having me play the part of their strategist, you¡ª"


    "Did you not strike a bargain with the mursashu using something you had no right to trade?"


    Molam fell silent under the Oracle''s gaze.


    When the silence became uncomfortable, the phoenix spread its wings. I think it is worth celebrating that you managed to accomplish your task with such meager help. The phoenix craned its neck towards Molam, giving him a pointed look. She had lots of trust in your ability to do what was needed, and so did not test the limits of the restrictions placed on her.


    "I appreciate your words, but I would like what was promised," Molam growled, pointing an accusing finger. "Will you open the Stairs or not?"


    "I will open the Stairs for you, but the Dao will be unable to deal with the mess you left behind."


    Molam''s eyes narrowed. "What mess?"


    "You should know, child. A city of the Empire; for some of its residents to enter Spring''s Blessings and hear that they have been Freed. And you set an alchemist to oversee it."


    The pieces fell together for Molam. He had only been concerned with securing the World Tree''s elderwood; what would happen with JiangXi afterwards had not been something he thought about. But the Oracle was right; JiangXi''s residents had expressed their disapproval from the beginning because everyone knew the story of Kamisukawa. Primrose had been convincing, but JiangXi''s residents never wanted to be Free. They only wanted to remove Agytha.


    "And you wash your hands of the matter."


    Molam hesitated. Even though the Prince was supposedly in slumber at the moment, the people of JiangXi would find little solace in the momentary reprieve. The lingering thought that the Prince ¡ª or any of the Empire''s other Titled Ones ¡ª could make JiangXi a burnt reenactment of Kamisukawa would eat away at the people''s sense of stability.


    Kalle wouldn''t be able to hold the city. No city of the Empire could be held so long as the Empire''s main military might threatened the very people living in those cities.


    Meeting the Oracle''s gaze, he said simply, "Kalle doesn''t need to hold the city. Tell whomever you want to lead the Dao that JiangXi isn''t the prize, but the blow to the Empire''s reputation can be amplified by leaving JiangXi. Send the message that the Dao can take a valuable city of the Empire and not treat it as something worth keeping."


    "And what will the Dao do about the Empire after abandoning a hard-won city? With the Empire''s attention divided and the Prince in forced slumber, a unique opportunity presents itself." The Oracle''s eyes glittered at him from behind her mask.


    What she means to say is that we would like you to choose if you would ¡ª


    "Find someone else. I''m going home."


    More silence.


    "Is there anything else you have for me?" Molam finally sighed. "Or may I go home?"


    The Oracle''s dragon mask pondered him, before she spoke. "I would like your opinion before you leave."


    "That doesn''t put me at ease at all. The ancient Oracle herself, consulting someone like me?" Molam tried to keep the tinge of sarcasm out of his voice.


    "Recent changes in mindset can be new even for me. Perhaps you can shed light on a subject, given your own experiences."


    Wary and unsettled, Molam''s curiosity got the better of him. "That being¡­?"


    "If you can avoid losing a game by sacrificing a piece, would you?"


    "Not losing isn''t the same as winning," Molam pointed out reflexively, then added, "But if it''s a meaningful delay, it could be a viable strategy. If one piece can swing the tides in your favor, it should be considered."


    "And if that piece is a child?"


    "You ¡ª" Molam''s jaw clenched, his fingernails dug into his palms. His gaze hardened at the Oracle, her face hidden behind that inscrutable mask. The question''s sudden turn elicited a flurry of conflicting thoughts and emotions, all demanding to be processed. His fury stunned him, so much that it stopped him from lashing out at the Oracle in anger. She knew what that meant to him ¡ª she knew ¡ª but she had still asked him the questions in this manner regardless.


    This conversation ends here. The phoenix dropped in between the two of them. It glanced at the motionless Oracle. You should know better than to bring this up with Molam. He has not had your centuries to overcome it.


    "A fair assessment." The Oracle held a hand out and shook her sleeve. The Stairs behind the Oracle''s dais flickered into existence as she brought her hand back onto her lap. "The Stairs."


    Struggling to contain the dissonant feelings within him, Molam distracted himself from them by stepping past her and the phoenix, walking resolutely towards the Stairs.


    His footsteps echoed throughout the Inner Sanctum, and the Stairs seemed to glimmer in response. The spiral steps sank into the ground and extended upwards into a darkness even the Oracle''s glow could not penetrate.


    "Do give my regards to RainBringer." The Oracle did not even turn to look at him. "I look forward to when I open the Stairs for you again."


    "I hope one of the Gods hears your prayer." Molam murmured as he reached the Stairs. Without hesitation, he lifted a foot onto the first Step shimmering in the air, half expecting himself to walk through it. But no ¡ª the solid Step bore his weight. Almost surprised that the Oracle had kept her word, Molam took another step, and then another. He was going up the Stairs.


    Turning around midstep, he faced the Oracle, unsure what to say. To his surprise, he saw his silk white scarf folded neatly behind the Oracle, unseen from his earlier vantage point. A moment later, he inclined his head stiffly. "If there is nothing else, Oracle, I will be taking my leave."


    "The Stairs will only be active for some time. It would not do for the others to see the active Stairs."


    Needing no other prodding, Molam began walking up the Stairs at a brisk pace. A flapping of wings saw the phoenix land lightly on his shoulder, a glowing feather in its beak.


    Take this. It is time I met RainBringer again.


    "Have you not gone up to the Castle during this time?"


    No. The Stairs are kept Sealed for a very good reason. I only have spoken with RainBringer briefly through the Oracle. The spirit''s eyes watched as Molam tucked the new feather into his arm guard. Pace yourself, or you may fall. Have you forgotten you lack wings?


    "Don''t worry, I''m pacing myself." Molam continued bounding up the Stairs, one Step at a time. "I''m just so excited. It''s been almost six years since I was last home. Six years since I said goodbye to the Princess. I understand that might not be a long time to you, but for humans, that''s a long time!"


    There is¡­ something you should know.


    "What is it?"


    I must first apologize for having pried deeply into your memories when we first met.


    Molam frowned. "That is¡­ awfully late and conveniently poorly timed to take advantage of your¡­ ambiguous distraction." Molam slowed down and stopped, sensing something wrong with the phoenix. "I''ve long made my peace with it. What is it?"


    I see. Well to that end, I understand why you want to return to the Castle in the Sky. And that I am telling you this to help prepare you mentally, for¡ª


    "Is this about the "being conversational" complaint you used to have or are you incapable of getting to what matters?" Molam interrupted, turning to start climbing the Stairs again. "For the last time, what is it?"


    Why are you humans always in such a hurry? The phoenix seemed miffed, then shrugged its wings. Very well then. RainBringer''s daughter, whom you call the Princess, is no longer in the Castle.


    Molam paused midstep. Then he turned his head to fully face the phoenix with a look of incredulity.


    "...what?"


    ***


    City Lord''s Mansion, Crescent City


    "So, what''s Ruskru saying now?"


    Jett scanned the letter, frowning. "Kymja believes she found the Prodigy, but Ruskru has yet to make a decision on our course of action. The location is¡­ problematic."


    Rei raised an eyebrow. "And? Where?"


    "ZhiXia City. Kymja saw the Prodigy enter Sanctuary." Jett hesitated, then added, "Traveling with the Whale of ZhiXia."


    "Ah." The Title caused her to share Jett''s hesitation. "The Prodigy made it to Sanctuary? I thought Sophie was supposed to patrol the area between Techoria and YiZhi Mountain with their bonds?" After a pause, Rei frowned, as she thought about everything she had just learned. "Just a moment. Kymja is in ZhiXia City?"


    "Clearly the Prodigy didn''t make a straight line towards Sanctuary." Jett seemed to have not heard her second question, drumming his fingers against the desk deep in thought. "Coincidence, or just being the Prodigy?"


    "Ay, focus." Rei snapped her fingers at him. "We still need the Prodigy if we want the SunFlower''s design, right? Are we helpless if she stays there forever?"


    Jett''s brows furrowed as he looked at Rei. "I don''t know what you''re proposing, Rei. It''s Sanctuary. And the Whale of ZhiXia."


    "We don''t have to involve Sanctuary," Rei spoke earnestly. "We''re not there for the Oracle. Sanctuary can''t interfere if we go there for the Prodigy alone, right?"


    "Have you forgotten the Whale is not limited by Sanctuary''s rules?" Jett gave Rei a pointed look while waving a dismissive hand similar to Rei''s earlier gesture. "The Prince is in slumber and Ruskru is occupied. What you should be doing is helping me figure out how several cities are going to make up for the expected trade shortfall now that the trade routes through JiangXi are disrupted. Did you forget how the last harvest provided only a pitiful amount of crops? You would have a hard time finding a worse time to lose JiangXi."


    "Look, JiangXi is not so much of an issue. Agytha was in the process of fucking it up anyways, and we can always take it back. The Dao don''t even have a Titled One to defend it with. How are they going to hold it?"


    Shaking his head, Jett looked back down to his ledgers and bookkeeping. "It''s a matter of the Empire''s pride and reputation, Rei. Losing JiangXi is a bigger issue than you think; did you forget what happened to Kamisukawa? When the Prince wakes up and hears about JiangXi, these numbers I''m trying to juggle right now may become¡­ permanent."


    She wanted to argue, but saw little point in doing so with Jett. Reclining back into the couch, she closed her eyes and murmured, "Ah, why is everything so complicated? Of all the places the Prodigy could go, of all the people she could be with¡­ had to be Sanctuary and the Whale of ZhiXia."


    "Rei." Jett pointed to the chair in front of his desk.


    After a moment, she left the couch to sit down in front of Jett, pulling parchment and ink towards her.


    Jett gave her a look of surprise. "Well, look who''s finally come around. Thank you."


    "Actually," Rei dipped her brush in the ink, "I''ll draft a letter to Ruskru myself. We need the Prodigy, yes?"

 Fourth Interlude

    Preface from The Companions, by Head Scholar ZuanBing of the Fallen Star Pavilion


    <hr>


    The story of the Companions is well known throughout the land in various shapes and forms. Every child has heard tales of the Companions, for not only do we celebrate their achievements during the Festival of the Hero, we also have the Sun as a daily reminder of their greatest gift. Alongside oral tales and chiseled records, it is perhaps one of the few verifiable tales with origins from before the Eternal Night.


    But as with all events that happened during the Eternal Night, it is difficult to separate facts from myth.


    We do know that they are perhaps the first Titled Ones. Each and every one of their Titles are monikers earned after their legendary exploits against the demons, culminating in their fabled opening the Stairs to Heaven. There, they asked the Gods to create the Sun in order to banish the demons and put an end to the Eternal Night.


    This tradition of Titles has carried on throughout the centuries, and even to this day we find ruins with mosaics or runes written in the Old Tongue detailing the legend of the Companions.


    But the exact details of the individuals have also become murky over time (with the one exception). For example, the few surviving records we have from the Lost City of Mur refers to six people total that traveled together. This directly contradicts the inscriptions found in Hjornheim and the oral tales from the Formosa Isles, which both pin the total amount at eight.


    The prevailing theory on the differing numbers may be due to a mistranslation: given the songs that have been passed down in the Formosa Isles, the Companions contained nonhumans as well. Perhaps the people of Mur referred to the human count as being six. Yet, we only have these Titles:Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">The Hero. Name and gravesite unknown.</li>


    </ul>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Vareon the Sage, also known as the Prodigy. Gravesite unknown. </li>


    </ul>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Diyah the Mursa. Gravesite in Mur. </li>


    </ul>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Torri the Anima, also known as the Mother. Gravesite in Hjornheim.</li>


    </ul>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">[redacted], the Red Emperor. Gravesite in [redacted]. </li>


    </ul>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">[redacted] the Wanderer. Gravesite unknown.</li>


    </ul>


    The Red Emperor, being one of the Companions, was the last known person to have firsthand knowledge of the Companions. However, he has never spoken of nor written about his time with the Companions, and so the theory of two missing names or Titles remains unproven.


    His reluctance to speak of the experience remains a subject of much debate. A Head Scholar from six generations ago noted his answer then: "They believed our work was done when we created the Sun. I alone believed otherwise."


    This study is broken into the following parts based on reconstructed chronological events:


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">The Lights in the Night</li>


    </ul>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">The Meeting of Companions</li>


    </ul>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">The Castle in the Sky, a Moving Fortress</li>


    </ul>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Who Leads? Who Follows?</li>


    </ul>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">They Fight Legions</li>


    </ul>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Battle for the Stairs</li>


    </ul>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Ascending Heaven</li>


    </ul>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Creation of the Sun</li>


    </ul>


    We begin with the story of what life was like during the Eternal Night.

 Ch 33: Seeds of Tomorrow

    Humans find few things more comforting than the cage they''ve grown fond of.


    ¡ª Excerpt from Meditations, by the Red Emperor


    <hr>


    The first thing Primrose noticed upon entering the Inner Sanctum was the Oracle''s presence lighting up the interior in a soft, pure white glow. Mursa Shang shielded his eyes and hesitated, though the rest of their group did not. Primrose wondered if it was because he was the only one that had not met the Oracle and did not know what to expect.


    The second thing she noticed ¡ª Molam was nowhere to be seen. The Priestesses had made them wait outside after Molam entered, yet they did not see Molam leave. Though parts of the Inner Sanctum were still obscured in shadows, Primrose did not think there were any other exits than the one they came in from.


    Where was Molam?


    "Mursa Shang." The Oracle''s voice. Just as Primrose remembered it. Measured. Monotone. Breathless, yet with rigor. "You seem anxious."


    And unlike their footsteps, echoless.


    "I have¡­ heard stories." As though in a trance, the Mursa knelt down. Tears streamed down his face, before he put forth his arms onto the ground and kowtowed to the Oracle. "For so long, Oracle. My people have dreamed of this. I have dreamed of this."


    "I see that Diyah''s Will still echoes."


    "Yes," Mursa Shang did not look up. "In my dreams. In my sleep. In every moment of my waking days ever since I inherited my Title. Mursa Diyah''s Will drives me even now. Please: Tell me how my people can break DuskWing''s curse and return to Mur."


    The Oracle did not speak, merely looked down on Mursa Khan''s prostrated form. Primrose felt that none of their gathered group wanted to interrupt this critical moment for the Mursa, and resolved to silently walk around the Inner Sanctum''s interior.


    "Have you ever wondered why I refused to see any of the Mursa since Mur became lost?"


    Primrose noticed she had walked a distance from the Inner Sanctum''s entrance, and the Oracle''s voice still seemed unchanged. The Oracle''s voice seemed to always sound just near enough to be clear, yet far enough that she did not seem to be too close. More importantly, she breathed in the faint scent of leymint and sandalwood through the darkness ¡ª the same combination of incense she had purposefully given Molam. So he had come through here. Primrose followed it slowly, walking silently around the pillars in the darkness.


    "We¡­ have always wondered¡­" Mursa Shang spoke slowly, as though still in disbelief that he was here. "Mursa Diyah''s Will tells us you know how we can return to Mur. We simply do not understand why you refuse to show us the way."


    "I avoided this conversation for centuries to spare you from hearing that which would only bring you greater despair." Though the Oracle had not moved from her position facing the group, Primrose froze at feeling an intense sensation of being watched from the twin holes in the Oracle''s dragon mask. The Oracle continued speaking as though nothing had transpired. "Yet, an old friend convinced me that some things are not for me to decide. Perhaps even Diyah knew I would eventually capitulate; I see no other reason for him to bind his heirs with such a Will to pester me so. And so today I will enlighten you on the nature of DuskWing''s curse over Mur."


    Mursa Shang''s head pressed onto the ground. "That is all I ¡ª that is all my people ask for."


    The heavy gaze lifted off Primrose before the Oracle spoke again. "When Mursa Diyah joined the Red Emperor as one of the Nine Lords to defeat DuskWing, she was also the one who landed the final blow. When the remaining Lords divided up DuskWing''s remains for trophies, Mursa Diyah claimed DuskWing''s black wings and brought them back to Mur. This is the source of DuskWing''s curse, and why your ancestral home is uninhabitable today."


    Primrose saw Mursa Shang look up as though he had a question, perhaps one she shared. Was the solution to go into Mur and remove DuskWing''s remains? But the Mursa paused, and immediately put his head down again, causing Primrose to wonder if he also felt the Oracle''s heavy gaze. She breathed in, searching for leymint and sandalwood, continuing to look. Where had Molam gone?


    "You would be right to think that the solution is to remove the source of the curse. But have you ever wondered why the curse has only expanded over the years? It is because DuskWing''s mate, IceMourne, has been collecting DuskWing''s divided remains over the years and stores the pieces next to each other in Mur." The Oracle''s dragon mask leered. "Though IceMourne flies each Winter as it is now her Domain, searching for DuskWing''s final remains are her other reason."


    Despite her resolve to follow her nose, Primrose stared at the Oracle, whose unmoving mask seemed oblivious to the collective reaction. Even the Whale of ZhiXia seemed surprised. The scholars of the Fallen Star Pavilion had been charged by their sponsor cities to predict IceMourne''s path each year. To understand IceMourne''s goal would have a profound impact on understanding where the dragon would go ¡ª the head scholar had once told Primrose that they suspected IceMourne was searching for something but it had always been unclear.


    "Just¡­to confirm I understand, Oracle." Mursa Shang spoke up as Primrose approached¡­ something behind the Oracle''s dais. A faint glimmer caught her attention in the air, but it vanished as soon as she took another step and she could not glimpse it through the Inner Sanctum''s darkness. "You are telling me that if my people attempt to move DuskWing''s remains out of Mur, IceMourne would treat it as disturbing DuskWing''s grave?"Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    "If you can even approach. You may have inherited multiple generations of aura but you will need more than that to enter Mur as it is now." The Oracle answered, then her voice raised in volume just slightly. "Primrose. You seem inquisitively distracted."


    Primrose blinked. She found herself standing behind the group. Impossible. She had just been behind the Oracle. Some of the others turned around to look at her, curious about the Oracle''s sudden digression. Master Ji''s face seemed inscrutable, and Nettie peered curiously at her. GloomSire still leaned against a stone pillar with his arms crossed, glancing off into the darkness, and Mursa Shang still prostrated in front of the Oracle. The twin holes within the Oracle''s mask bore down on her from beyond the gathered group and Primrose could only think of one question: How had the Oracle moved her back here in just a moment?


    "¡­I apologize." Primrose smiled wanly. The faint scent of leymint and sandalwood could still be found if she searched for it, but a tense lump in her throat cautioned her against pressing against the Oracle''s patience. She swallowed the lump before she continued. "My thoughts seem to have wandered."


    "Return to your garden." The Oracle''s echoless voice commanded without inflection. "I will summon you when it is time for us to speak again."


    Primrose bit her lip. Something about the dismissal brought out a desire to reject the order, but Primrose understood that it was not her place to do so. After another glance beyond the Oracle''s dais in a vain search for what she had seen, she bowed as deeply as she could and turned on her heel to exit the Inner Sanctum.


    Before the door closed behind her, Primrose heard the Oracle continue with Mursa Shang as normal.


    "I will tell you what you can do to remove DuskWing''s remains from Mur. But not all answers lead to solutions."


    ***


    Primrose found Shurra relaxing outside of Sanctuary. With a start, Primrose realized she had not noticed Shurra''s absence within the Inner Sanctum earlier and began berating herself for her lack of awareness. The Oracle''s presence within Sanctuary was hardly a good excuse for being blind to something as simple as this ¡ª blind spots were the exact reason why she had been unable to see through Lyka''s duplicity.


    "Well?" the Northern Warrior asked. "What next?"


    Primrose shook her head. "The Oracle is still speaking to the others."


    "She spoke to the others first?" Shurra frowned. "I would have thought you would be first, or at least after the Whale."


    "We all understand saving the best for last." Primrose smiled at Shurra, deciding not to mention her skulking around the Inner Sanctum. "I was told to wait for her summons, which implies she won''t see me today. Would you like to join me when it is our turn? I remember you have yet to meet the Oracle in person, though it was at her guidance which led me to you."


    Shurra shook her head, and Primrose immediately regretted the offer. Shurra must have had a reason to stay outside of the Inner Sanctum when they entered; why did she think Shurra would do differently?


    "Or¡­" casting her thoughts around quickly, Primrose added, "Perhaps you''d rather see the sights of ZhiXia."


    A nod from Shurra. "That I do. I''ve heard stories around the HeartHomes of Sanctuary''s Festival of the Hero. This would be a good chance to participate in the martial bout and apply the guidance I''ve received on our way here." Shurra pulled an arm across her chest, stretching as she looked down at Primrose with a sheepish look. "Spending some time with two Titled Ones certainly made me feel¡­ inadequate. I think it''s time I measure myself against an equal."


    Primrose nodded. "I can certainly understand that. I''ve never participated, but from what I''ve seen, the Great Sage''s Mirror truly summons a worthy fighter."


    "You should participate," Shurra insisted. "It would be a good test of your current skill."


    "Oh no, not for me," Primrose waved off the thought. "I prefer not letting on exactly what I can do in front of a crowd. But I do hope you enjoy yourself. If I can, I''ll try to watch your bout."


    Shurra seemed deep in thought, then nodded. "I can understand that. And thank you; I''m certainly looking forward to it."


    Smiling at Shurra''s tacit understanding, Primrose added, "I assume you''ll be spending the next two weeks preparing for the Festival, but where? I will be visiting a few old acquaintances, but as I don''t know when the Oracle will summon me, we should be able to find each other when I can let you know of the Oracle''s new directive."


    "I''ll spend some time with the caravan, helping them move the World Tree''s elderwood into Sanctuary. The Whale told me it would be a useful exercise for building my physical reinforcement."


    "Ah, so I''ll find you with the caravan." Primrose nodded. That Master Ji''s suggested exercise happened to fulfill Sanctuary''s own needs was not lost on her, but Primrose saw no need to bring it up if Shurra had no complaints. "Good, it''ll be easy to find. I''ll leave a message with Jyuni for you if our paths don''t cross."


    "I will ask Jyuni every evening," Shurra promised.


    "Then we''ll part ways for now." Primrose turned to leave Sanctuary, but Shurra spoke up again with a tinge of worry.


    "Primrose."


    She turned around to see the Northern Warrior with furrowed brows. "Yes?"


    Shurra paused, then asked in a voice of forced normalcy to her ears, "I noticed Molam isn''t with you. Is he still waiting to speak to the Oracle?"


    Hesitation. Primrose wondered if she should tell Shurra that she honestly didn''t know. That Molam had gone into the Inner Sanctum ahead of them, and when they had entered she had seen no sight of him, only recognizing the faint whiffs of his having passed through. Even more worryingly for Primrose: the Oracle had said nothing about Molam when they entered the Inner Sanctum.


    Could she even admit to Shurra that their leader had vanished?


    "I think the Oracle is yet to be done with him," she answered eventually. Truthfully, perhaps.


    Shurra''s ice-blue eyes pondered her answer, then she nodded. "It must be difficult, marked by the Oracle."


    "I am sure we will see him when the time is right."


    ***


    All cities with a population large enough to segregate social circles eventually begin trafficking in vices, and ZhiXia City was no exception. Adorned with red lanterns, the pleasure district could be found near the westernmost edge of the city. It was said that the founding Proprietress of HuaLang Chamber chose the area so that the morning Sun would not rudely disturb the Chamber''s patrons from a night of self-indulgent hedonism.


    By far the largest establishment in the district, HuaLang Chamber''s four-story complex had been designed by an architect with an eye for graceful yet subtle elegance. With its refined colors and delicate motifs, HuaLang Chamber''s architecture stood out in a way that did not announce itself to the passerby''s eyes the way its neighboring establishments did.


    From far away, Primrose could see the Chamber''s Petals emerging onto the balconies to light and set the lanterns. Even the red paper lanterns decorating the Chamber''s balconies seemed reminiscent of the current trend for wealthy women to wear a cluster of fresh flower petals from their earlobes. Or perhaps, Primrose mused, she wondered if those women simply mimicked the style of HuaLang Chamber''s Flowers to rekindle the flames in their husbands'' eyes.


    A Petal greeted her as Primrose approached. Though the Petal was still young, the two pink petals entwined into the sides of the girl''s hair marked her as one that could help the Chamber receive guests, but was not to be touched.


    "Good evening, miss." The Petal bowed, practiced enough to look elegant to the untrained eye, but Primrose noticed the stiffness in her neck. "Welcome to HuaLang Chamber, where we fulfill Earthly Wants and Heavenly Desires. Did you have an appointment?"


    Primrose looked up at HuaLang Chamber''s large doorplate and sighed internally before lowering her hood, exposing her orange-red hair entwined with blue satem flowers. "Sometimes, a Flower returns to sow the seeds of tomorrow."


    The Petal straightened up almost too quickly, her wide brown eyes looking Primrose up and down. Then, as though suddenly remembering her training, the Petal produced a golden token with the words Heavenly Peace written on it, depositing the token into Primrose''s hand. The Petal then bowed her head and stepped to the side, gesturing for Primrose to enter. "You will find Madam Proprietress on the floor of Heavenly Peace entertaining patrons. Please wait outside the Central Room until she is done."


    Primrose stepped into HuaLang Chamber, soaking in the perfumed air.


    The Petal bowed as Primrose walked past. "Welcome home."

 Ch 34: Stairs Go Up

    Castle, Castle, in the Sky


    Up where only dragons fly


    Don''t go close or even try


    There are painless ways to die


    ¡ª Empire of the Sun, Children''s Rhyme


    <hr>


    Molam jerked to a halt, turning his head to stare at the spirit. "What do you mean, ''no longer in the Castle?'' RainBringer has never allowed the Princess to leave the Castle."


    Even RainBringer can change her mind. She has sent her daughter to the Black Pyramid in the Endless Sands. DuskWing''s lair has been left unattended for too long and its leyline focal point has become weakened.


    Molam resumed his climb in silence. The phoenix waited for him to speak, then when he did not, decided to press further. You know this is necessary. Each focal point needs a dragon to stabilize the Seal, and RainBringer has ¡ª


    "Don''t." Molam whispered, taking each step slowly in a vain attempt to calm the dull throbbing in his head. "You already know that I understand, and I do. I certainly do." The words pushed past clenched teeth. "She avoided sending her daughter to replace DuskWing for centuries, and now this¡­ timing." He spat out the last word. "How convenient an excuse for RainBringer to separate us again. If she can''t keep me away from the Castle, she can simply move her daughter with responsibility."


    Are you no longer going to the Castle?


    "No." He exhaled, feeling the warm air push out of his chest, followed by a more forced wheeze when it would no longer leave naturally. Molam forced himself to wait as his body craved air, feeling the thumping sensation of his heart pick up in intensity as he fought against the urge to breathe. Only when he could no longer resist did he open his mouth and gasp for air, feeling it fill his body.


    He felt his body loosen up as he restabilized his thoughts, something Molam had learned during his time in the Northern Plains. Feeling his breathing come under control, he straightened up and took another step up the Stairs.


    "There''s not much I can do about the separation at this point, and the Castle is just a few steps away. At the very least, I should pay my respects to the one who fostered me in her home¡­ and perhaps take the chance to ask RainBringer about her¡­ plans."


    I understand how you feel, boy. I am here to help you speak with her.


    Molam laughed in mirthless silence. "Do you know how stubborn she is?"


    As I said earlier: Even RainBringer can change her mind.


    ***


    Molam stepped off the Stairs and onto the Castle''s terrace. He stood above the clouds that covered YiZhi Mountain, and cloudy wisps covered the ground in front of him leading up to the Castle in the Sky. Although he had stepped off the Stairs when he had reached the Castle, the Stairs themselves kept going upwards, disappearing into the skies.


    You look as though you want to keep going up.


    The phoenix swooped out of the depths of the Stairs with a fiery flap of its wings, circling around the Stairs once and coming to a glide in front of him.


    "Hardly," Molam held out an arm for the spirit. "I know I have not been invited."


    Is that what you are waiting for? An invitation?


    Molam waited until the spirit shuffled to his shoulder before he lowered his arm and began walking to the Castle. "Unlike the Companions, I''m not close to being qualified for an invitation by the Gods."


    The Castle loomed, larger than any City Lord''s Mansion Molam had ever seen. The only structure larger could be the Empire''s Crimson Palace. Carved out of white rock, Molam had always wondered if the Castle was painstakingly chiseled out into its form or somehow assembled such that the structure seemed seamless. The design itself avoided ostentatiousness in favor of spartan utility ¡ª fitting, for the Castle was said to function as the place where the Companions waged their battles during the Endless Night.


    He soon stood in front of the gates to the Castle''s grounds and looked at the towering suits of armor standing guard on either side. The gate itself was larger than any city gate he had seen, easily capable of allowing four or more of the mursashu horse-drawn carriages to pass through with space left to spare.


    The suits of armor themselves stood at equivalent height with the gate and reminded him of the towering statues of the Gods he had seen arranged around the Shrine of Exabell. Though Molam was only of average height, even the tallest Northern Tribespeople would find themselves scarcely able to reach the shinplates.


    Nevertheless, he stepped up and bowed to the guardians of the gate. "Should the two of you be so complacent when someone approaches?"


    They knelt. The ponderous movements would have looked unnatural to him if he did not know the spirits that inhabited those suits of armor. The kneeling made him wary, for it was not for him. In his years of growing up in the Castle, none of the spirits knelt even to RainBringer.


    Is it complacency when we recognize the approaching presence? The silver one, a veritable giant the size of a building, leaned in close with a bowed head. We greet you, Fiery One. It then extended an index finger the size of a pillar to Molam in greeting. Welcome back, human child.


    We greet you, Fiery One. The golden one also extended its metallic index finger to Molam. It seemed only yesterday that you left. How was your time in the human realm?


    Is that all you have to say to me? The phoenix flapped an annoyed wing. Is the boy''s travel more interesting to ask after?


    Though all the spirits spoke directly to his mind, their thoughts were distinct and had a separate cadence that made them unique.


    Your slumber was known to us all. We await your rebirth so you may resume your place among us.


    Slumber is a kind word for imprisonment. The phoenix, somehow, peered down while looking up at the two suits of gigantic armor. But no matter. I will be completing my rebirth during the Festival of the Hero.


    The golden armor leaned backwards. Are you here to speak to RainBringer?


    Not for myself. The phoenix shook its head. RainBringer and I have already made an accord. I am here to lend my support to this boy here, who is something of an¡­ incompetent benefactor.


    Molam brought his hand up in exasperation; it passed harmlessly through the spirit''s ethereal form.


    We understand. The silver armor stood up, a lumbering but quiet motion. Perhaps the armor was well-oiled. RainBringer is currently not here as she tends to her responsibility as herald of Spring, but it is possible she will return by dusk.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    "And the Princess¡­?" Molam found himself asking before he could stop himself. The question lingered in the air as both giants seemed to still be in the moment.


    RainBringer''s daughter has accepted her duty at DuskWing''s lair in the Endless Sands, the golden armor answered. Once she claims the Black Pyramid, it will become her Lair.


    "I see." Molam hadn''t expected a different answer, but some part of him had hoped otherwise. "Given DuskWing''s lingering presence, will she be safe?"


    RainBringer''s daughter is becoming a full-fledged dragon at almost a thousand years old. The silver one pointed out. RainBringer would have never allowed her daughter to attempt if success was difficult.


    Molam nodded. Though it irked him that RainBringer would choose now of all times to allow the Princess to leave the Castle, there was nothing he could do. "I suppose she''s finally getting her wish to see the human realm."


    And her wish for a name? The golden armor asked. You had better give her one before your kindred do.


    "They aren''t my kindred." Molam replied reflexively. For some reason, Kalle, Primrose, and Shurra''s figures flashed unbidden in his mind. "Not all of them," he amended under his breath.


    He thinks of names and discards them all the time. The phoenix''s voice carried a teasing tone. Decisive in everything else but this.


    Molam ignored the spirits, turning to the silver one. "May I enter now?"


    With a hand, the silver armor pushed open the right-side door of the giant gate ¡ª a small opening, but plenty large enough for Molam himself.


    If you have time, perhaps you should visit the Library. That one has not left their dusty scrolls since you left.


    Oh, why bother? The phoenix began, that one never¡ª


    Molam brushed another hand through the phoenix, speaking loudly to the silver armor. "I will pay them my respects. Thank you for opening the gate."


    And he walked through.


    ***


    A sense of nostalgic wistfulness threatened to overwhelm Molam as he walked into the Castle. Perhaps due to the lack of any furniture or decorations, the interior of the bare entrance hall still evoked a sense of smallness in a way that none of the City Lord Mansions could ever do. Cold and uninviting, yet spotless as though its very existence did not understand the concept of the ravages of time. Though the stories said it was made for humans, everything about it gave Molam a keen sense that humans no longer lived here.


    Or at least, he amended, that humans had not lived there for a long time.


    "Your brethren still do a complete job of cleaning, I see." Molam continued down the hallway, making his way to the stairs leading to his old room.


    My kind certainly excels at anything we put our efforts to do.


    "The others, perhaps. The one on my shoulder only knows to wait for others to help it rebirth."


    When I do, I will perch on your head and burn off that nest you call your hair.


    "Add hair burning to the list of things your kind excels at then. Consider me impressed."


    I can do it better than you can come up with a name.


    Molam didn''t respond to that, choosing to just walk up the winding stairs. Twenty-eight steps to the second floor, just as he remembered it. Another hallway, equally bare and uninviting, yet familiar all the same. Soon, he stood in front of the door to his old room.


    You certainly became silent. The phoenix remarked. Was recognizing your inability to name things so shocking?


    At first, Molam didn''t answer. Then, "I don''t have any aura for you to read."


    You still have a face.


    "Oh, I do?" He responded dryly, glancing sideways at the spirit riding his shoulder. "I had almost forgotten. Thank you for the reminder; you excel at being a verbal mirror."


    Not giving the spirit a chance to respond, he opened the door and looked within. Everything seemed to be just as he had left it, the same image he remembered when he had gazed back at this room just before he left. A single bed with a thick cover for cold nights. Two shelves, their borrowed contents returned to the Library just before he had left. Two desks and their chairs ¡ª one bare, one with a dragon chess board ¡ª both for studying, but a simple solution to separate reading materials and thoughts by topic.


    If not for the lack of dust, he would have thought the room untouched. The caretaker spirits truly made their presence known without announcing it.


    "Everything is just how I left it." He walked in, glancing around. The wistful feeling returned; something about wanting to be here but not knowing what to do first when he did get what he wanted. His eyes fell to the dragon chess board, seeing the single piece of parchment with two play pieces weighing it down. "Never mind."


    He flipped the parchment over, recognizing her brushstrokes at once in the Old Tongue.


    I''m sorry I couldn''t be here when you returned, but Mother has finally agreed to let me claim Uncle Dusk''s old Lair. They are saying that the unstable focal point can no longer be ignored, so I am to go settle in as soon as possible during Summer''s Warmth. You know it''s always been my dream to see the human world. Even if all I can see is the view on the way to the Black Pyramid, I cannot pass up this opportunity.


    We heard from Fiery One about your travels, and what you''re doing for the Oracle. It''s very kind of you to help the Oracle with Fiery One''s rebirth. Mother doubts you would succeed, but I know you better than that. When we next meet, I expect to be right.


    I know that five years is a long time for humans, and Mother says you will have changed much. But when the Oracle sent your tribute to me, I told Mother that some parts of you hadn''t changed. And if you did, I''m certain it will be for the better.


    I found the dried honey bread to my liking! Unlike the burnt tributes, now it actually has taste.


    As a reminder, I hope you have a name for me now. Not my nickname ¡ª a real name. You had at least five years!


    She was still using Summer''s Plague instead of Summer''s Warmth. Four centuries since the change, but he supposed dragons lived even longer.


    Molam set down the letter, sinking into his chair. So, she was really on her way to, or already at, the Black Pyramid in the Endless Sands. Because the letter was undated he couldn''t be certain when this was written.


    The spirit peered at the letter from his shoulder. It seems she was wrong about you having a name for her.


    "Who said I didn''t?" Molam murmured.


    You are, of course, free to tell her her name when you next see her.


    "I still have some time to come up with something better." He folded the letter, pocketing it. "Probably."


    He sat there, looking dazedly at the empty dragon chess board, contemplating its hexagon tiles. A foreboding feeling of anxiety washed over him, one he couldn''t quite place.


    I would have thought you would show a happier face upon returning to the place you call home.


    "I feel like I don''t know what to do next. Like I''ve lost all sense of purpose." Molam admitted. "This was what I wanted, but why? What''s the next move? To stay here forever?"


    The spirit hopped off his shoulder to peer at him from the desk.


    Your face shows ¡ª


    "Oh, enough with the mirror act." Molam fell silent. "I am being serious. I will never be able to use aura, so my time until God Yven claims me again is limited. I''ve returned; then what? Bide away my remaining lifespan here?"


    The spirit shrugged, strutting about his desk, then settling down on the dragon chess board. Your time is for you to do as you please. Not everyone is so fortunate as to be in a position to decide how they spend their own time.


    Molam gave it a reproachful look. "I should have known better than to discuss this topic with an immortal." He stood up, stretching his shoulders. "I suppose it''s time to go speak to my mentor about this."


    Recoiling its head, the phoenix peered at him with one eye. Did you forget that, like me, that one is an immortal too?


    But Molam was already at the door, looking back towards the spirit. He held out an arm. "Are you coming or not?"


    This is going to be unpleasant, it grumbled, but flew towards his arm. Could you not be like a normal human and return home to sleep or something?


    "Someone just said my time is for me to do as I please."


    Perhaps I will only burn away half your hair so you can decide if you''d rather spend your time shaving away the other half or waiting for it to grow back.


    "Ah, an exemplary use of your time."


    Molam walked briskly up to the next floor, where the Library could be found. The same wave of nostalgia washed over him; his body remembered making this very walk almost everyday for many years, growing up in this Castle.


    But the phoenix interrupted him just as he reached the Library. That one can wait. RainBringer returns.


    He looked out the nearest window to see the previously white cloudy wisps surrounding the Castle replaced by ash-gray clouds tinged with a silver-blue sheen, expanding far off into the distance. Lightning crackled, briefly illuminating a serpentine form coiling through the sea of clouds. Moments later a low rumble echoed across the cloudscape, reminiscent of an approaching beasts'' growl.


    "Those are certainly her clouds."


    Are you sure you want to keep her waiting?


    Molam glanced at the door to the Library. RainBringer could perceive it as a slight for him to not greet her when she returned. His mentor would not care; perhaps his mentor didn''t even know that Molam had returned. Molam wasn''t even sure what his question was, which would certainly irk his mentor for wasting their time.


    He turned away for the stairs that would lead down to the entrance, running as fast as he could. The phoenix was right.


    Rain waits for no one.

 Ch 35: Garden

    I had a thought, regarding your last discussion about the problems threatening the peace we have.


    We fought for our peace. We earned it with our sweat and blood. We now expect to maintain it without lifting a finger due to the reputation of our Titles alone.


    And now we look at these people and think: Why are they fighting? Do they not enjoy the peace?


    But what about us? What about what we did? Have you become indifferent to the thick stench of blood drenching our aura in order for the people to enjoy the peace we have today?


    How can we think that we are somehow better than them simply because their actions threaten what we built? Would that not make us hypocrites?


    We fought for our ideals.


    They have a right to fight for theirs.


    ¡ª Unsigned note, written in the Old Tongue. Archived in the Fallen Star Pavilion.


    <hr>


    HuaLang Chamber''s inner courtyard was divided into two by two square grids, with each of the four squares containing a dense garden of flowers. Rooms of various sizes could be found lining the edges of the gardens, with open hallways on the edges for people to pass through. Each of the upper floors were given ample vantage to look down, but the Chamber''s design left each lower floor unable to view the floors above.


    The stairs leading upwards were located at the end of the entrance hallway, and Primrose made her way in that direction.


    The first floor of HuaLang Chamber was named the floor of Earthly Needs. Primrose walked past open rooms where people feasted and drank, tended to by Petals carrying trays of food, wine, and spirits. All manners of cuisine from Northern roasts to rare ales from the Formosan Islands could be found at HuaLang Chamber, provided one had the coin and appetite.


    Chattering conversation and the occasional laughter echoed out the rooms on this floor. Primrose could even see several patrons socializing at the stone tables and benches in the flower gardens. She passed by several members of the Chamber dressed in unassuming colors; Leaves in dark green and Roots in brown, who did not work as Flowers or Petals. They nodded at each other as they passed by. Though taught to blend into the background, every Flower knew they could not do the work they did without these helpers.


    She approached the stairs at the end and flashed her golden token to the Petals standing there, who nodded and granted her passage to the second floor.


    Primrose walked up to the floor of Earthly Wants. Something about the architectural design meant that little of the first floor''s raucous sound made it up here. Doors were rarely left ajar, and the scent of incense wafted through the open windows. Here, patrons satisfied with the needs of the body were looking for relaxing massages, therapeutic cupping or acupuncture sessions. Steam billowed out of an open window, a tell that someone was enjoying a hot bath. A strong hint of lavender and rose oil tickled Primrose''s nose as she passed by that room; the patron must have much coin to spare.


    Leaves and Roots walked by, nodding at Primrose. They carried buckets, towels, soap, and other niceties to help patrons relax their bodies. Several Petals followed them, and Primrose vividly remembered her own time doing this task as a Petal.


    But she did not linger. Another flash of the token, and two Petals stepped aside to grant Primrose access to the third floor.


    The floor, known as Heavenly Desires, had most doors fully closed. The raucous sounds from below had all but melded into a muted, breathy silence which seemed to seep out from behind closed doors. Primrose''s steps became lighter than usual, her steady gait becoming a soft glide, taking care to not disturb the inhabitants within these rooms.


    But even closed doors could not fully muffle the sensual moans and sighs emanating from within, as HuaLang Chamber provided for the desires of its patrons once their Earthly Needs and Wants were duly met. For Primrose, the dizzying scent of musk could only be a mixture of light of incense and body oil mingled with sweat.


    No Petals could be seen on this floor, and the Leaves and Roots only appeared to clean and prepare a room. Only other Flowers glided softly down the hall, the women nodding to Primrose as they crossed paths, each recognizing the other''s steps. Primrose saw the outline of thin blades pressed against the thin cloth covering their bodies as they stayed alert for any sound of commotion, well-prepared to protect and defend their sisters should any issues arise. Though HuaLang Chamber carefully screened the eligibility of its patrons, the combination of drink and stroked egos occasionally resulted in dangerous belligerence.


    Primrose had fond memories doing her own rounds on this floor after she became a Flower of thorns, when she earned her first blade.


    The two Leaves standing in front of the stairs to the fourth floor smiled expectantly at Primrose as she approached. At the sight of her gold token, the two stepped aside and allowed her passage to the final, fourth floor known as Heavenly Peace.


    The faint notes of music tickled Primrose''s ears before she even finished climbing the stairs. The zither, Madam Proprietress'' preferred instrument. The fourth floor only provided one room for entertaining patrons, located in the cross-center of HuaLang Chamber''s design, but even if Primrose didn''t know the layout, she only needed to follow the enchanting music guiding her ears.


    Before long, she stood at the edge of the center room, looking at two rows of relaxed patrons who lounged on soft cushions, arrayed in a semicircle around the scarlet-veiled woman strumming away at the zither in the middle.


    The woman, wearing a multi-layered silk dress crossed between silver, blue, and trimmed with white, wore scarlet pimpernel flowers in her braided hair. The effect gave her onyx-black hair the look of midnight, with each flower acting as a red star against a backdrop of pure night. The woman''s entrancing look could almost steal away one''s whole attention, if not for her deft, precise movements over the zither.


    Primrose recognized the piece: Prayer for Dawn, written for the flute, but Madam Proprietress had rearranged it for the zither. Each vibrating string sent a tingling sensation down Primrose''s back; her very skin felt flushed at the notes, her soul resonated with the melody.


    No sooner had she felt entranced did the piece come to an end. As the last note vibrated through the air, Madam Proprietress placed her fingers onto the string and stilled it into silence. A moment passed, then the gathered audience applauded, woken from their entranced stupor.


    Primrose held down the urge to join her hands in the applause. Heavenly Peace indeed.


    "Thank you, to all our valued patrons, for being willing to play the attentive audience for this display of clumsy fingers." The Madam Proprietress stood up and bowed elegantly, her thin veil fluttering just above her cherry-red lips. The musical voice, a gentle but firm caress upon the ears, seemed unchanged after all these years. "I hope you all have found these tranquil moments of unfettered peace reinvigorating for your mental state. It is my hope that each of you feel renewed as you return to the matters of life."


    With a soft clap, some Leaves came in with warmed wash towels and cups of tea for the patrons while Roots toiled to rearrange the cushions and chairs. Certain members of the audience seemed startled as they became aware of the tear tracks staining their faces; Primrose spotted a female patron pulling out a small mirror to inspect her makeup.


    "HuaLang Chamber provides fresh rooms for those that would like to linger until late morning." Madam Proprietress straightened and looked around at the audience members. Though the veil hid the direction of her eyes, Primrose felt the sharp gaze linger briefly on her. "Please tell our attendants what you would like and they will see to it that you are duly satisfied in all manners."


    A soft clap that seemed to resonate throughout the air, followed by another bow. "I hope that I will have the opportunity to entertain our dear patrons again in the future. Please remember to give HuaLang Chamber another visit whenever the world wears you down."


    The Madam Proprietress straightened up as the patrons began to take their leave, and the piercing gaze fell upon Primrose once again from behind that veil. A tiny gesture of the fingers bade Primrose to follow as the Madam turned and glided towards the Northern wing.


    Primrose gathered her breath, then followed the veiled figure.


    ***


    The door to the Madam''s quarters lingered open, and Primrose spotted a candle being lit inside as she approached. Dusk fell, and the inhibited light of day seemed to strengthen the incense wafting upwards from the lower floors.


    "So that was you walking like a Petal as early as the second floor," the Madam''s voice echoed. If Primrose had closed her eyes, it would have felt as though the Madam whispered directly into her ears. "Your journey must have stiffened your legs, Primrose. Are you still disciplined in your stretching exercises?"The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    "I do normally, but a wagon gives little room for such activities, Madam Scarlette." Primrose stepped through the door, seeing the Madam inspecting a wall of colorful nameplates with her back turned towards her. The nameplates, written in elegant calligraphy, contained the names or Titles of various persons of interest. At the very top of the wall, the solitary red nameplate: Prince of the Empire. Written in the Founding Proprietress'' calligraphy, untouched since the founding of HuaLang Chamber. "I''ve returned to collect my merit."


    "Discipline is the currency of change, Primrose." Madam Scarlette reached for a brown nameplate ¡ª Agytha, City Lord of JiangXi ¡ª unhooked it from its place in the wall, then tossed it behind her shoulder. "Flowers should be supple enough to bend with the wind."


    "And firm enough to withstand the storm." Primrose finished, catching the nameplate.


    "Ah, your memory works." The Madam clapped her hands together. "Perhaps you''ll be so kind as to recall the highlights of your time away from HuaLang Chamber for me?" The Madam turned, her light scarlet veil fluttering with the motion. "I have heard much, but I often find that secondary accounts rarely suffice." She pointed at her table, where a tea set lay waiting. "Sit. I would hear directly from you about what transpired in JiangXi City, and anything else you think is important for me to know. Silverleaf tea? A generous patron donated a crate to us recently."


    Primrose sat, recounting much of what she knew for the Proprietress as Madam Scarlette brewed fresh tea for the two of them. The year she had spent studying at the Fallen Star Pavilion, then the three years she spent at JiangXi at the Oracle''s behest, culminating in the Liberation of JiangXi. The people she encountered; Shurra, Kalle, Lyka, Master Ji, GloomSire, Nettie the Prodigy, Molam.


    Madam Scarlette listened in contemplative silence as she measured out and ground some silverleaves for tea, speaking up only when asking Primrose to clarify certain events or subjects. When it came to the battle at the City Lord''s Mansion, Primrose took extra care to mention how Lyka had been¡­ unfortunate happenstance.


    Madam Scarlette finished preparing the tea leaves and set the teapot on its warmer, then turned her attention to Primrose.


    "Happenstance is a convenient excuse for the unprepared, Primrose." Her voice, though gentle still, chided with a firmness that made Primrose sit straight. "It is for those that forget a simple fact: things will happen ¡ª with or without their permission. Did you forget it is inherent to human nature to be duplicitous and self-contradicting? Why self-indulge with reasoning that only excuses one''s lack of discipline? Or do you think there was truly nothing you could have done to see through Lyka''s treachery?"


    Primrose had no response.


    "Though I have never met this Lyka, it is not her fault for being born to her circumstances, just as it is not your fault for being born to yours. But it is a fact that you allowed your affections for her to cloud your own vision, is it not?" The Madam continued. "You were a natural with training your Sight, but never forget it is the things we choose not to see that haunts us."


    "I cannot be blamed for ¡ª" Primrose began, but the Madam''s pressed lips silenced her.


    "This is not blame, but a matter of accepting responsibility. That is the only impetus for you to learn, to grow, and to become better. To say that anything is out of your control cedes the one grip we have on life. You are either swept up by so-called happenstance and accept the results, or you toil away to affect chance so that the results land in your favor as much as you can. Those are the simple facts of life. Remember: discipline is the currency of change."


    The teapot whistled and chirped, breaking the silence that followed.


    "And this Molam, the one you made leader of the Dao?" Madam Scarlette asked, picking up the teapot from its warmer while setting out two cups. "Is he useful?"


    Primrose blinked. "He has the Oracle''s mark. Is the Oracle''s vessel not someone we want?"


    "The Frozen Saint also had the Oracle''s mark. She failed to take down the Prince''s nameplate." The Madam poured tea for the two of them, a steady stream from the pot without missing a drop. "I think you understand that results are what matters, Primrose."


    "But he has provided results," she defended, accepting the cup handed to her. "A near-bloodless coup of JiangXi, at that."


    "Past merits are no guarantees of future prospects. Where is Molam now?"


    Primrose recounted what she knew: of following Molam to Sanctuary, of Molam walking into the Inner Sanctum first, and then when her group had followed ¡ª but her seeing no sign of him; only the whiff of leymint and sandalwood incense she burned in his room.


    The Madam pondered in silence, then asked, "And you think his disappearance is because the Oracle is helping him recover his aura?"


    "I didn''t ask, but there''s little reason for him to have disappeared in the Inner Sanctum." The question gave Primrose pause. "Unless the Oracle moved him out in a similar manner as what she did to me, there is no other exit."


    "There is one." Madam Scarlette''s voice contemplated softly.


    "There is ¡ª you mean, the Stairs?" Primrose could not keep the incredulous tone out of her voice. "The Oracle hasn''t opened the Stairs for anyone ever since the Red Emperor''s trespassing."


    "All things must be considered." The Madam seemed amused. "Or you may find yourself surprised yet again, the same way Lyka surprised you." She leaned her chin on a palm, gazing at Primrose from behind the veil as her voice dropped to a soft, dangerous tone. "For example: have you ever considered how everything you know would change ¡ª if this establishment was under the Empire''s control?"


    Primrose felt her grip tighten around her teacup. The question hung in the air, lingering between the two of them before she Saw Madam Scarlette''s silver aura flare to life. She extended an arm, palming a dagger out of her sleeve ¡ª a quick flip of the hilt brought the blade down in a downward stab while her other hand splashed her tea forward in a distracting feint.


    Ting, the Madam flicked the rim of her teacup with a finger. The chilling sound froze the tea splash mid-air, echoing through the bones of Primrose''s arm; her grip slackened and the dagger fell, the blade burying itself in the wooden floor. The tea splattered onto the table, staining the red cloth; not a drop reached Scarlette.


    "Relax, Primrose." Madam Scarlette made no other movement, merely observing Primrose, who had leapt backwards to the corner of the room, her other hand already equipped. "It is heartening that you did not forget to take initiative when subduing a potential problem, but I merely gave you an example of extreme situations to consider. We wouldn''t be sharing this journey with the Oracle to kill the Prince if we had any conflicting motives, so put away your blades. More tea?"


    The sensation of the cup''s ringing left a remnant twinging in her jaw, worsened by the headache of Sight. After a moment, Primrose bent down for her blade, the adrenaline still rushing in her body. Her eyes strained from sustained Sight, but her gaze never moved from Madam Scarlette. The silver aura surrounding the woman''s frame had settled into a calm flow.


    Madam Scarlette refilled tea for the two of them. "My point stands. If it comes to it, who will replace Molam?"


    The question seemed out of place. "Why would we replace him?"


    "Once a blade is broken, you obtain a new one." Madam Scarlette sprinkled a pinch of plum powder into her tea. She fell silent as she soaked in her tea''s vapors, then sipped quietly. "You say it was his encounter with the Tempest which left him unable to use aura."


    "Yes." Primrose swallowed. She didn''t like where the Proprietress was leading the conversation. "But what if the blade isn''t broken, just dulled? It can be sharpened again."


    "Not all blades are meant to be reforged." A penetrating gaze. "You said that you couldn''t See his natural aura color because of the Oracle''s mark. Did you confirm with your own eyes his abilities before?"


    "I did," Primrose recounted. "When I first met him, I tested his ability myself, though he does not make a wanton display of his skills. He can resist my Charm without a jade talisman, and I believe he''s a red-oriented auramaster. I saw him defend against the Tempest with a small Domain. Not large enough to be a Titled One''s, but large enough to cover a group of people in his protection. The Tempest even referred to it as one ¡ª there''s no doubt about it."


    "Hmm." Madam Scarlette refilled both of their cups as she pondered Primrose''s words. "But the Tempest''s chest strike happened before or after his display of a small Domain?"


    After a moment of thinking, Primrose answered slowly. "It was before."


    The Madam blew gently at her tea, then sipped again. The silence stretched out before she spoke. "Perhaps a delayed reaction, though we don''t know what the Tempest is fully capable of under the Prince''s guidance."


    "Is it even possible?" Primrose asked. "Without drowsiflora, to inhibit a person''s ability to use aura merely with a strike¡­"


    Shaking her head, Madam Scarlette placed a hand over her breast. "We do know the heart acts as the source of aura. And you may remember how needles can be used on pressure points to temporarily inhibit a person''s ability to channel their aura. But," she added, "you said the healer found no needles in his body? How curious ¡ª I would like to learn the manner in which the Tempest accomplished this. If she even is the cause."


    Silence. Primrose nursed at her teacup, waiting patiently for Madam Scarlette to finish her thoughts. The Madam''s index finger slowly traced the rim of her teacup, bringing out a low hum before she finally spoke again.


    "Has the Oracle given you further instruction?"


    "Not yet," Primrose admitted, "She instructed me to return here and wait for her summons. And with Molam gone for now, it would be a good time to rest. I''ve been working nonstop in JiangXi for several years."


    "Rest, but with an eye towards what you should consider next, Primrose." Scarlette leaned forward, her tone serious. "You are no longer just a Flower of HuaLang Chamber. You were the original leader of what is now known as the Dao. If Molam does not return or the Oracle cannot heal him, you know what you must do."


    Primrose pressed her lips together. "I will give it some thought. There is no need for you to remind me, Scarlette. I believe you trust my judgment."


    "I do." Scarlette''s voice became soft, gentle ¡ª wistful. "As your elder sister, I should remind you to enjoy your own leisure time too. Perhaps the Festival of the Hero? I hear your friend Shurra has put her name forward."


    "I might attend the audience, for her sake," Primrose drained her cup and set it down politely, standing up. Scarlette''s tone indicated an end to their time without explicitly stating so. She held up Agytha¡¯s nameplate. "Is Dahlia still tallying merits?"


    "She is. You should be able to find Dahlia relaxing an esteemed patron right now on the second floor." Madam Scarlette''s head tilted slightly in silence. "Yes, I believe she is still with him. If you go now, you may observe Dahlia at work."


    Primrose raised an eyebrow. For Scarlette to explicitly give permission to observe meant that she believed this to be worth her while. Before she exited the door, she pointed to the mark in the floor left by her dagger. "Is that going to be a demerit for me?"


    "Oh, that''s not much of an issue. I am to blame for that, in a way." Scarlette''s lips smiled from beneath the veil. "However, do make sure you stretch rigorously, will you, Primrose? Your blade should have at least made it to the table."

 Ch 36: She Who Brings Rain

    Kneeling in front of the Gods gave me an epiphany ¡ª the face of cruelty is not characterized by malice, but by apathy.


    ¡ª Recovered scroll, insignia attributed to the Mursa. Translated by Head Scholar Yuya of the Fallen Star Pavilion.


    <hr>


    True to her Title, RainBringer emerged through a downpour of divine rain as she undulated through the skies. Her magnificent cerulean scales glinted and glimmered in the skies like the dance of light over a rippling pool¡¯s surface, adding an opulent glow to a clear blue undertone that blended harmoniously with the sky¡¯s color. Her horns curved straight upwards from the silver-blonde mane that ran down her neck, billowing in the slipstream of her flight.


    With a flap of her wings, the dragon blew away much of the darker clouds and headed straight for the Castle''s terrace. A cloud of silver-gray smoke obscured Molam¡¯s vision as she flew into it, shrinking in size as she went. What walked out was a silvery-blonde haired woman that wore a form-fitting cerulean dress, with silver-gray eyes and high cheekbones. Having seen many statues of the various Gods, Molam observed that the RainBringer based her human form on Goddess Ustl''s image. The biggest difference between the two was the dragon''s protruding horns; silver, pointing forward with an upward curve and tilt.


    The transformation complete, the divine rain petered out and the clouds that had darkened the skies were pulled into the silver-blue bustle that draped over the train of the dress. The terrace became fraught with activity as several spirits emerged from the Castle and attended to the dragon, draping embroidered cloth and a silk shawl upon her form as she walked barefoot to the Castle''s foyer to see Molam''s kneeling form.


    "RainBringer," Molam greeted her with his head bowed. "Thank you for blessing the people."


    "I see you survived your time down below, boy." RainBringer''s voice was stern and reserved. "Exceeding my expectations again. And¡­" the dragon directed her gaze at the phoenix on his shoulder. "Fiery One. I thought you would be with the Oracle, preparing for your coming rebirth during the Festival of the Hero."


    The phoenix craned its neck and stared back at RainBringer. My egg can bask in the rich aura of the Inner Sanctum while I join our discussions.


    "Discussions, is it?" RainBringer''s silver-gray eyes flickered from the spirit to Molam. "What would there be to discuss?"


    How cold, RainBringer. The spirit shook its head. Must you wound our relationship so? First you blame me for being absent despite me being imprisoned, then you exclude me from discussions that would help fill in the gaps in my knowledge about the past few centuries?


    "So you are capable of taking an interest in the affairs we''ve been charged with. Did you spend the past few centuries reflecting?"


    Are we greeting as old friends, or revisiting old arguments?


    After a moment, RainBringer held out an arm and the phoenix flew to it. "Very well. I have a day before I must bless the Valley to the west. And you, boy," she began, then paused. "Follow. I have heard from the Oracle about your comings and goings, but I would hear from you personally what has transpired during your time in the realm below my skies."


    RainBringer turned around and walked to the audience chamber, her bare feet making no noise on the stone floor. Molam obediently followed in her wake.


    ***


    The audience chamber of the Castle in the Sky had not changed much in the five years since Molam had last seen it. A great hall with plain walls and windows open to the skies ended with a raised dais at the end; the smooth floor was cut on both sides with two channels of water that ran silently down the hall. It was said that all of the Castle''s water emptied out to the side of YiZhi Mountain and formed the waters of the River Jiang, but Molam had never been able to confirm it with his own eyes.


    Where human architecture would have alcoves and sconces for flames and torches, Molam was the only human to reside within the Castle and therefore the accommodation was noticeably absent. Luckily for him, the afternoon Sun was still setting and he could see reasonably well as he followed RainBringer to the dais.


    RainBringer''s seeming indifference directly reminded him of the difference in their status. Power resides with those that have the luxury of determining if they need to act, he remembered his mentor repeating in that monotone voice of theirs. RainBringer walked the length of the audience chamber with the phoenix on her arm as she listened to its inaudible conversation, taking her time as Molam trailed behind. It wasn''t until she reached the dais that he stopped, falling onto one knee to wait for her to address him.


    Five years may have passed, but Molam did not forget the proper etiquette in RainBringer''s Lair. She had ensured it while he grew up under her wing.


    The dais itself held the throne. Carved out of a single block of cerulean jade into a reclining shape, the smooth, polished surface contained only silver inlay covering the armrests. Devoid of any cloth or cushioning, Molam thought it would be an uncomfortable seat ¡ª but RainBringer rarely sat in it regardless. The only other decoration in the throne itself was the sculpting of a dragon that ran along the upper rim, snaking about the shoulders of the one who sat in it. The head of the dragon faced the ones that knelt directly in front of the throne, and Molam remembered wondering on multiple occasions if that sculpture was alive.


    RainBringer approached this throne, turning around and settling herself down with a billowing of her dress, still listening to whatever the spirit was relaying to her.


    Some moments passed before RainBringer''s attention was diverted away from the phoenix. She seemed to be deep in thought. The spirit flew back to Molam''s shoulder, but he did not dare stand up without RainBringer''s permission.


    "The Fiery One tells me about your exploits in JiangXi City." RainBringer''s silver-gray eyes glowed as they rested upon him. "It seems you did well in stealing the egg and retrieving the World Tree''s elderwood. Neither of which would have been easy at all for you, I imagine."


    "Thank you for your kind words," Molam murmured. A feeling of indignation ¡ª whether anger, frustration, or something else ¡ª simmered within him. He hadn''t forgotten how the Oracle initially denied him a way up the Stairs; no doubt a direct request from RainBringer to keep him detained below the clouds while she sought for another way to separate him from her daughter.


    "Kind indeed. Perhaps I am being too lenient, giving you praise for a task left unfinished."


    Unfinished? Molam stared down at the white stone floor. "I don''t understand."


    RainBringer ¡ª the phoenix spoke up in a warning tone, but she interrupted him with a raised finger.


    "The boy cannot even carry out a task to completion and you expect me to coddle him?" A force dragged Molam''s chin upwards, compelling him to meet RainBringer''s glare as her finger dictated his gaze. "You were told to bring back the Fiery One, but all you have done is bring back their egg." The finger twitched sideways, dragging Molam''s chin with it and bringing the phoenix''s ethereal form into view. "Look at the incompleteness of your task. You have the audacity to return because you brought back an egg and some elderwood? Does simply bringing the materials together constitute a building? Did you grow up under my wing eating uncooked rice and water in a bowl as well? If you had the foresight to see your task to the end, perhaps I could even agree that you have some use. But since you are so eager to return here, you should stay before your inability sabotages anything else."


    The force compelling his gaze dissipated, dropping Molam''s head back down. Though he seethed at the words, he did not dare look up ¡ª RainBringer''s unspoken intent couldn''t be more clear. Now that she could not keep him away from the Castle, she meant to keep him here while her daughter went to the Black Pyramid.


    Enough. The phoenix''s wing flared orange, breaking RainBringer''s stranglehold on Molam''s chin. My rebirth can be accomplished soon when Sanctuary immerses my egg in the bonfire for the Festival of the Hero. This is beneath you, RainBringer. This is not how we agreed to have this conversation.


    "The boy grew up in my care. His lack of discipline reflects poorly upon my image as his guardian." RainBringer brought her hand down, clenching the throne''s armrest. "There was no agreement; you simply thought you could force yourself into familial affairs."


    As far as Molam knew, the phoenix was right: he didn''t need to personally take part in immersing its egg in the elderwood bonfire. But when it came to him, anything short of perfection was all the justification RainBringer needed.


    While I certainly don''t understand much about raising a human, to subject an auraless one to this ¡ª The phoenix, interrupted by Molam''s movement, flapped its wings and hovered in midair as Molam knelt down to press his head down in front of RainBringer.


    "I apologize, RainBringer." The stone, cold against his forehead, was still warmer than RainBringer''s gaze. "I would like to rectify my mistake, if you would give me another opportunity."


    "Another opportunity." RainBringer echoed with mirthless derision in each syllable. "Another opportunity to make a mistake. Another opportunity for more opportunities. Who was it that begged me for an opportunity to prove themselves useful by going down the Stairs? Such entitlement to opportunities is so utterly¡­" she paused, then finished her thought, "...human."


    Flames erupted around the chamber, giving it a bright orange hue. I said enough, RainBringer! Raise your head, Molam. I will not have my benefactor be treated in this manner.


    Molam, surprised at the spirit''s usage of his name, looked up to see the phoenix staring down RainBringer from his shoulder. The flames traveled around the chamber, billowing around the throne before dissipating into smoke. Your grudge with the Red Emperor and the Prince of the Empire should not be extended to the boy. Have you forgotten our friendship with the one they call the Hero? You would do well to remember that the Red Emperor''s betrayal of our trust is not indicative of humans as a whole.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    For a moment, RainBringer''s cool demeanor devolved into an inexplicable mixture of anguish, rage, and sorrow. "Neither is the Hero''s noble disposition indicative of humans as a whole," she finally said, then added, "I thought you would have fresh insight, given your recent imprisonment."


    The phoenix''s wings flared. Consider our status, RainBringer! Is it for us to be so petty as to extend undeserved blame to the only one that can help? If you refuse to speak the fear in your mind, then I will speak it for you.


    "Fear?" RainBringer laughed, leaning forward. Her silver-gray eyes glowed and far off in the distance, thunder rolled. "Has your imprisonment addled your thoughts, Fiery One? What exactly should I fear?"


    Not for you, but for your daughter.


    Molam looked up, to see RainBringer had fallen silent. He himself tried to process what the spirit had just said. "What?"


    The spirit didn''t look at him, but it spoke for his benefit. The Prince has been searching for a way to overcome the Oracle''s protector for a long time. In my last conversation with him, he had considered two things necessary: a weapon created by the alchemists of Techoria called the SunFlower, and an aura source strong enough to power it.


    The Oracle''s protector ¡ª that could only mean the Submerged Leviathan, the monstrous being protecting Sanctuary, responsible for the Red Emperor''s infamous Eight Defeats. Molam felt briefly confused. "There''s an aura source strong enough to defeat the Leviathan?"


    It was the reason he kept me from rebirth. He wanted to determine if he could use me as the aura source. But then you unsealed my egg and freed me from Crimson City''s Palace, and now my brethren''s whispers travel on the wind: the Empire needs a replacement. The phoenix gazed at Molam from the corner of one eye. And the deteriorating situation with the Seal and leylines means a young dragon has been sent to the Black Pyramid.


    Fear gripped Molam''s chest and he chanced a peek at RainBringer.


    "The Empire would not dare." She leaned back into the throne, clawed fingers gripping tightly at the armrest. "He would not dare."


    The Red Emperor already dared, and DuskWing paid the price! His son the Prince is possibly even stronger, having survived an encounter with you and your sister! The phoenix fluttered over to the throne, looking down over RainBringer''s shoulder. You know he cannot sleep forever. The ones that follow him may not be as strong as the ones that helped the Red Emperor fight DuskWing, but neither is your daughter as strong as DuskWing. In light of this, you would still imprison Molam in the Castle? Your only hope to influence human affairs?


    Molam grit his teeth. He understood the phoenix was merely appealing to RainBringer''s sense of utility, but the way they all spoke of him as a convenient tool gave him a forlorn lump in his throat. It made him miss the Princess more than ever; she had treated him as an equal. For some reason, Kalle''s bearded face flashed in his mind.


    "It is no longer merely a human affair if they attack my daughter."


    And you are content with waiting until then? The Prince is now more vulnerable than ever.


    Molam cleared his throat. "May I speak?" he asked respectfully.


    RainBringer''s eyes flickered to him. "Only if you have something meaningful to contribute."


    Molam bowed his head in acknowledgement, then spoke to the floor. "I only understand that the Prince of the Empire has fought in Techoria, no doubt trying to take the SunFlower. But from what I''ve heard, Techoria ¡ª and the SunFlower itself ¡ª was destroyed. I don''t know if Master Flangel is alive. Do we know if the Empire even has the SunFlower?"


    Your thinking is not incorrect, but there is something we are worried about. The phoenix hopped down to RainBringer''s shoulder. You see, Molam¡­ I believe the Prince can also extract memories.


    The implication hit him a moment later. "You mean, it''s possible the Prince understands how to build his own SunFlower from interacting with Master Flangel?" He asked incredulously, looking up at the two immortals.


    We cannot know for certain, given the lack of information from Techoria.


    "We are remaining cautious," RainBringer added.


    With him, we must always assume the worst. If we act assuming that the Empire can build their own SunFlower, then their next step is¡­ the spirit shrugged, looking at Molam''s stony face. Well, the dragons and spirits have yet to come to a solution without breaking Heaven''s Mandate. Its voice dipped, staring pointedly at Molam. But neither are we limited to sitting idly by and watching because we have¡­ you.


    There it was. The only reason RainBringer had kept him alive all those years, tolerating his existence in the Castle. Molam bowed his head. Though he had braced himself for the possibility of Master Flangel''s death after hearing about Techoria''s hopeless situation from Nettie, the weight of reality still crushed him as he acknowledged the phoenix''s words. "I understand."


    The next moment, Molam''s mind whirled as he suddenly understood what the Oracle had been referring to during their parting conversation. And if that piece is a child? The remnant of her question dug painfully into his chest. Nettie. Of course, the Prodigy should be able to recreate the SunFlower. The Oracle was asking him if the girl should be killed to prevent the Empire from obtaining what they wanted. And Molam had told her that it was a viable strategy. The thought ate away at his conscience and the gnawing hypocrisy turned his stomach.


    You seem pained, and I fear you misunderstand. A spirit''s warm presence alighted on his shoulder once again, the phoenix peering at him, not knowing the source of Molam''s agony. I am telling you this so you can make a decision yourself, Molam. He couldn''t read its expression, but the voice echoed gently in his mind. There is no guarantee that God Yven would so easily relinquish your soul the second time.


    The spirit bird''s head craned away to look at RainBringer. He will be allowed to live his life as he sees fit. Not a request, but neither a command. No trickery. By unsealing my egg and bringing us the elderwood, Molam has done more for us than we could have ever expected to achieve.


    "For you, maybe," RainBringer pushed herself up from the throne, pointing an accusing finger at the phoenix. "You make a rash decision, two weeks before being reborn."


    Ignore any remaining sense of binding obligation. The spirit turned to Molam, paying RainBringer no heed. If she will not say it, then I will. You have done well, Molam. It locked gazes with Molam. You are free.


    Molam nodded, his face wooden.


    Free. The thought barely registered in his mind as a familiar memory came to mind. A child, tied to a stake as the flames burned.


    But he wasn''t the one tied there this time.


    ***


    Inner Sanctum, Sanctuary


    The conversations seemed to drag, and Nettie decided patience was a difficult skill to learn. Standing there in the Inner Sanctum as the Oracle spoke to the others had only proven to be what Grandfather would call "a test of patience." Nettie had long determined that the test could not possibly be fair. If waiting was considered a skill, then it was merely for those that had much time to waste ¡ª or those who felt time passed by swiftly.


    For some reason, adults seem to have much to say with few methods to express themselves. A far departure from Nettie''s peers, who found many ways to say the same boring things. Nettie did not understand why they seemed to care about how they spoke to the Oracle, who certainly did not care about how she responded.


    The Mursa Shang seemed overwhelmed when the Oracle told him to seek the Lord of Sands for help. In fact, he sounded as though he wanted to argue, but the Oracle disregarded his complaints and told him he was free to proceed with failure if he wished. After the Mursa left the Inner Sanctum, GloomSire and Master Ji stepped up, congratulated by the Oracle for doing what she had asked. Nettie passively listened as the two of them explained what they had seen in JiangXi to the Oracle.


    Shifting from foot to foot, Nettie glanced at the masked Oracle, sitting in her kneeling position as Master Ji spoke about the worrying changes in the Slumbering Forest. The first time Nettie had come here, at the age of three, the Oracle had already been sitting this way.


    Had she moved at all? It seemed she hadn''t.


    Nettie could never. Nettie wondered if she could do so if she shared the Oracle''s age; perhaps to her, kneeling for three years was just a mere moment.


    The idea made Nettie shiver. Being the Oracle''s age would be old.


    "Nettie the Prodigy."


    The Oracle''s echoless voice also made Nettie shiver, but in a different way. Not old, the way Grandfather Flangel''s had been. Yet neither was it young. Nettie decided it was timeless.


    And the Title. Again with the Title. Nettie had a name ¡ª why could these people not understand? Father and Mother had given her a name; Grandfather had said so. But she had been called. Nettie had been called. The wait was over.


    She lifted herself up on her toes, then dropped back to her heels and stepped forward into a bow. The others had waited for the Oracle to speak, but now it was Nettie''s turn, was it not?


    "Nettie greets the Oracle. Nettie would like to go to the Fallen Star Pavilion."


    Grandfather would be proud. Nettie even remembered to bow.


    ***


    City Lord''s Mansion, Crescent City


    Jett dodged the peanut flicked at him. "I''m not burning it this time," he promised, holding the letter up, then flinched as a peanut shell hit him on the nose. "Throw another peanut and I''ll burn your clothes," he threatened, standing up from his chair.


    "That wasn''t on purpose," Rei laughed, setting down her bowl. "And I didn''t want to read it this time, just summarize it for me. Give me something to listen to besides you droning on and on about crates of this and wagons of that."


    After waiting to see if Rei would try again, Jett finally sat back down and picked up the letter. "Well, you got your answer. Ruskru thinks your suggestion has merit. You, Roxxa, Desmi, and Kymja are to convene outside ZhiXia City. Wait and observe to see if the Prodigy leaves ZhiXia City, or you may act based on any changing circumstances. Ideally, you seize her and leave as soon as possible."


    Rei flipped up from the couch, slowing her descent until she levitated right above Jett, looking at the letter as well. "Hm. Ruskru does read our messages, then," she murmured with satisfaction. "Well, he''s given his permission, yes? I suppose I''ll go find the other three."


    Jett burned the letter, watching the ash fall from his hands into the ashpan. "Was all of this intended to get out of doing bookkeeping?" He stared at Rei, who didn''t fully meet his gaze. "You do know this is something that needs to be done?"


    "Find someone who will happily work on the mundane stuff with you if you enjoy it so much, Jett." Rei held out her hands in a disarming manner. "And I can''t disobey Ruskru''s order to deploy, can I?"


    Palpable warmth flooded the room. "This ''mundane stuff'' is because of you, Rei!" Jett glared at Rei. After a moment, he leaned his head backwards to take a deep breath and exhaled before he came forward again.


    "It''s better to have you doing something Ruskru approves of rather than sitting here being a nuisance. Just¡­ remember where you''ll be. The Whale, the Submerged Leviathan, the Oracle¡­ if it becomes difficult, the four of you should escape."


    "I''ll keep it in mind," Rei smiled at Jett from the window. "It''s a shame you won''t be able to see Sanctuary''s famous Festival of the Hero up close." She leapt from the window and out into the air, her parting words echoing back towards Jett. "I''ll tell you all about it!"

 Ch 37: The Desire to Rest

    If I cannot be the sun that brightens your day, then I will be the moon that lights up your darkest nights.


    ¡ª Unsigned calligraphy in a style of the Old Tongue around the founding of the Empire of the Sun. Stored in the archives of the Fallen Star Pavilion.


    <hr>


    Primrose found Dahlia on the floor of Earthly Wants, just where Madam Scarlette said she would be. Incense permeated the room; Primrose recognized the scent of lemongrass and chamomile.


    Dahlia looked up swiftly upon Primrose''s entering, eyebrow raised with a hand behind her back. The brown-skinned woman wore body-fitting clothes, with long sleeves and tight leggings. The tight clothes minimized the chance of her movements disturbing any of the needles sticking into the neck and back of the man laying face down on the table.


    "Who is it?" The man asked, his voice muffled.


    Dahlia gave Primrose a questioning look. Primrose held up Agytha''s nameplate, then signaled that she had permission to be here.


    "One of our Flowers is here to learn by watching." Dahlia brushed her brown ponytail to the side without disturbing any of the bright purple flowers strewn throughout her bushy hair. "I hope you don''t mind an observer, Lord Gihan?"


    "It''s fine." The man grunted into his pillow.


    Primrose took a second glance. She had heard the Lord of Exabell to be a man of many vices, but his relatively normal build belied the rumors of his appetite. Though she could only see his back, the slightly mottled, olive-colored skin did not seem loose. Was it a different Gihan?


    Dahlia spoke softly, her relatively deep voice a relaxing whisper. "She came at just the right time. We are done relaxing the muscles in your back, Lord Gihan, and I will be showing her the correct placement of needles for stimulating the memory and improving your sleep." She caught Primrose''s unasked question, and continued as she began pulling needles out of the man''s back. "I am sure that running Exabell must be an exhausting endeavor for you to need such treatment so early this Spring''s Blessings."


    "It''s been a particularly rough Winter''s Sorrow," the Lord of Exabell murmured, his breathing audible as Dahlia removed the thin needles and deposited them into a tray. "Trade between the Free Cities and the Empire has been intermittent at best ever since last Summer''s Warmth. Exabell almost ran out of salt. Can you imagine that? I had to distribute salt-cured meat from my personal stores as a replacement."


    "I''m certain your people are grateful for your visionary foresight," Dahlia crooned as she wiped down the man''s back with a warm towel. "It must be why you''re here today to satisfy an Earthly Want."


    "I certainly want to sleep better. It helps me think with clarity."


    "Of course," Dahlia covered the man''s naked back with the blanket, then unrolled a new packet of needles. "I will begin now. Let me know if any needle feels uncomfortable, and please talk about anything you like. That way I can also find the meridians that may be blocked."


    "Alright then. What should I ¡ª ah."


    Dahlia let go of the needle she had just inserted into the back of the man''s head. "Is it too deep, Lord Gihan?"


    "Not particularly; just a place I didn''t expect."


    "I will touch the places before I place the needles, then." Primrose watched Dahlia expertly slide two needles at different angles into the sides of the man''s neck, just below the ears. "Please, continue talking about anything."


    "Well now, Dahlia, you''ve put me on the spot. It can be difficult to think of a new topic in the moment¡­"


    "Perhaps anything on your mind?" Dahlia suggested, "Something that troubles you ¡ª that may help. Are there things that ail you while you lay down waiting for God Yven to send dreams?"


    Another needle slid in, and Primrose seemed to see the moment the Lord of Exabell''s muscles relaxed. "I can only think of the recent envoy from the Empire of the Sun, I suppose."


    Dahlia and Primrose exchanged a swift look. Primrose took a step closer as Dahlia picked up another needle. While there was no doubt that Dahlia''s acupuncture would alleviate Lord Gihan''s problems, Primrose guessed that at least two of the needles were intended to relax the Lord''s guard and put him in a divulging mood.


    "What message did the envoy bring that ails you, Lord Gihan?" Dahlia inserted another needle, a finger-width above the man''s ear. "I thought Exabell had a peaceful treaty with the Empire."


    "Of course we do. But part of the treaty also respects some of the Empire''s wants." Lord Gihan''s voice seemed relaxed as well. "The envoy wanted me to be on alert for ¡­ for the Prodigy."


    Primrose gestured an urgent signal at Dahlia.


    "Why the Prodigy?" Dahlia asked. "The current Prodigy¡­ isn''t she a little girl from Techoria?"


    "Ah, perhaps you haven''t heard of it yet in ZhiXia." Lord Gihan''s voice carried a tone of amusement. "Techoria has been destroyed."


    Primrose pressed her lips together. Kalle and Molam had guessed as much from the Bright Night, but finally having confirmation was another matter entirely. Dahlia feigned practiced surprise. "By the Gods, really? Did the Empire do it? We''ve heard rumors that the Empire passed by on their way to Techoria."


    "No, the SunFlower did," Lord Gihan corrected. "The Empire''s army arrived, yes, but they never commenced their attack."


    That was new. Primrose exchanged a silent look with Dahlia, who prepared another needle. "The alchemists of Techoria destroyed their own city?"


    "Well, does it matter who? The Prodigy is supposed to be the only survivor." Another needle made Lord Gihan grunt. "That one hurts."


    Dahlia readjusted the needle with a deft pull. "Is that better?"


    "Yes."


    "Don''t neglect talking, so we can make sure nothing is going where it shouldn''t be." Dahlia pressed another needle into Gihan''s scalp. "Why is the Empire looking for the Prodigy?"


    "Well, the current Prodigy is Flangel the Wise''s granddaughter. I''ve heard she outpaces even him in matters of alchemy." Lord Gihan paused with a grunt, and Dahlia readjusted the needle. "Perhaps the Empire wants to bring her to their side while she is still young. You know how the Prince takes an interest in promising individuals."


    Dahlia had finished her work. The Lord of Exabell lay there, covered by a blanket with multiple needles gleaming from his head. Primrose recalled seeing his nameplate on the wall, but near the very bottom. A person of interest, but not someone whose life they should claim. Still useful enough to keep alive, or Madam Scarlette would have ordered otherwise given he was in their very Chamber.


    Gathering up some of her tools, Dahlia lit another incense stick, blowing on it gently so that the flame smoldered. "It seems all the needles are in their place, Lord Gihan. We will need to keep it there for the duration of this incense stick. Would you prefer tranquil peace or some music?"


    The Lord of Exabell''s muffled voice came slowly. "Silence, so I can rest my thoughts."


    "As you wish," Dahlia gestured at Primrose. "I will be answering my sister''s questions about the techniques I just applied for you, but we will only be outside. We will return in time to remove the needles."


    "Bring me water afterwards."


    "It will be done," Dahlia and Primrose bowed out of the room.


    ***


    Outside of the room, Primrose flagged down the nearest Petal. "A cup and a jug of water," she said. The Petal masked her surprise, then nodded and walked away in the direction of the kitchens.


    "It''s been some time, Prim." Dahlia stretched her legs and lower back, conversing with Primrose in hushed tones. "Didn''t know you came back. And to claim a nameplate too."


    "There wasn''t much time to send word." Primrose shrugged, pulling out the nameplate, handing it to Dahlia before joining her in stretches. "I believe you''re still taking these for the Chamber."


    Dahlia stuffed it into a pocket as she changed stance. "What shall it go towards? The usual?"


    "No." After a moment, Primrose changed her stretching pose then murmured, "Half for my brethren. Half for any survivors of Techoria." She leaned into the stretch, feeling her limbs tremble. "If you can find any."


    "I''ll see to it," Dahlia responded softly. "The Roots are already searching."


    They stretched in silence, falling into a nostalgic and familiar routine. Primrose bent down to touch her toes, but realized she could not fully grab her feet the way Dahlia could. Madam Scarlette had been right; she had been neglecting her exercises.


    Primrose broke the silence, curious about Dahlia''s last interaction with the patron. "Dahl. Did you know the Lord of Exabell would want silence?"


    "Did you already forget everything with needles after you earned your Flowers?" The brown-skinned Flower chuckled, pointing to an area around the back of her neck. "The ones here make people sleepy and in a mood to say whatever comes to mind." She dropped the tone in her voice further, glancing up at Primrose from her stretching position low to the ground. "I''ve been waiting for you to talk, but I suppose I''ll just ask you. Tell me what alarmed you about Lord Gihan''s mentioning of the Prodigy."


    Primrose gave Dahlia a brief update about her time in JiangXi, telling Dahlia to get the full scope from Madam Scarlette. Dahlia listened quietly, her bright amber eyes narrowing at the mentioning of how the Prodigy was brought to JiangXi and entrusted into the care of the Dao.


    "It sounds like she''s running from the Empire, then," Dahlia observed. "Or at least, she wants to go somewhere. Or maybe she doesn''t know either, because she''s a child? She''s supposed to be¡­what, five? Six?"


    Primrose shook her head. "You haven''t met her, so you don''t really understand. She only looks like a child."


    "I''d say only five or six Sorrows makes one a child. It''s when the Sorrows begin to blend together that you realize you''re an adult."


    Opening her mouth, Primrose paused, then sighed. "Like I said: meet her, Dahl, and you will understand."


    "How mysterious," Dahlia murmured in a singsong voice. "I just might need to see for myself, then."


    The Petal sidled up to them, handing Primrose a jug full of water and a cup. She bowed meekly, peeking up at the two of them from behind her frizzy brown hair graced with three pink petals. Talented orphans picked up by the Chamber were given the chance to earn their Flowers by mastering all five of the Paths before they became an adult, but success was rare. Primrose watched the Petal straighten and walk away while practicing the silent steps; the careful movement of her legs made her stride too rigid.


    "Don''t stare; it makes you look like a lecherous man." Dahlia poked Primrose slightly.


    "She seems old for a Petal." Primrose rummaged in a nearby cabinet for a tray and tablecloth for the jug. "Did she start late?"


    "I recognize her. She''s still working on earning her final two Petals. You saw her steps." Dahlia shrugged, folding the tablecloth neatly in half to spread it over the tray. "Scarlette is thinking of dissuading her from the path she''s chosen, but I see her peeking at the Flowers in the Courtyard of Thorns." Dahlia held out the tray for Primrose. "Why? Are you thinking of accepting a Bud?"If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    "Good heavens, no." Primrose put the jug on the tray, set down a ceramic coaster, then carefully arranged the cup on top so that the floral design would be facing the patron. "I was just thinking: Not so long ago, we were also earning our Flowers, looking up to the generation before us. And now the next generation is here, preparing for the same thing." Primrose inspected the cup''s placement, then looked at Dahlia. "Don''t you think that means we failed?"


    Dahlia hefted the tray''s weight, then nodded and jutted her chin at the door. Primrose opened it for her, the scent of incense wafting out from within. "I don''t think we failed yet, Prim. It''s more of an ongoing thing, isn''t it? But I know what you mean ¡ª I also hope that one day, Petals won''t need to learn our skills."


    Primrose followed Dahlia back into the room, thinking about the events in Techoria and the change the Dao had already wrought in JiangXi. What was she waiting for? Molam had given her his reasoning back in JiangXi, and it made sense. But was it the right course of action?


    "I hope that day comes soon."


    ***


    "Nettie thanks you for offering Sanctuary as a new home, but Nettie must decline." Nettie drew herself up to her full height, just slightly below Master Ji''s knee. "Nettie insists on going to the Fallen Star Pavilion."


    "If you insist on leaving Sanctuary, you will need some guardians." The Oracle''s eyes glittered at Nettie from behind the mask. "I am certain you understand the Empire is looking for you. As I am indebted to your grandfather and hope you arrive safely, I hope you accept Ji''s protection on the way."


    Nettie tried to not let the surprise overcome her face. "It will be nice. Nettie enjoys walking with Master Ji."


    "However, Ji needs to stay to oversee the Festival of the Hero for me. It will take place in two weeks, but if you are in a hurry I am certain Yao-ren can see you safely to the Pavilion by himself."


    Nettie looked up at GloomSire, whose deep blue eyes looked down at her. Turning back to the Oracle, Nettie took a breath then said, "Nettie can wait for two weeks. Nettie would like to see the Festival of the Hero too."


    "Good." The Oracle shook out a sleeve, then held up a ring. Nettie squinted, then dug her hands into her pockets. How had the Oracle taken GrandFather''s Ring? "Now on to this matter: I believe this belonged to Flangel."


    Realizing her fists had clenched in her empty pockets, Nettie first tried to relax her hands before she slowly pulled them out. GrandFather had told Nettie to keep it away from the Oracle. "That is GrandFather''s Ring," she said quietly. "Please return it to Nettie."


    "I have a question, Prodigy." The ring, a gold band with a ruby inset, glittered in the Oracle''s fingers as she turned it around, inspecting it. The Oracle''s gaze flickered back to Nettie, taking on a heavy pressure. "Does it contain the blueprints to the SunFlower?"


    The sheer weight of the look made Nettie recoil. "Yes."


    The gaze narrowed, and did not let up. "Do you know the blueprints to the SunFlower?"


    For the first time, Nettie heard an inflection in the Oracle''s voice. The tone had changed compared to the Oracle''s previous monotone¡ªnot too demanding, not quite a command, but a question that expected an answer.


    "Yes," Nettie whispered.


    "Could you build one?"


    The Oracle''s gaze lifted, bringing Nettie enough respite to think. "Not without the right tools and materials," Nettie finally answered. "Nettie would need another city like Techoria. Maybe Zaem."


    A cold sensation crawled up Nettie''s spine; she felt the Oracle''s gaze return. For a moment, Nettie saw the Oracle''s glow flicker. Or had Nettie blinked? The difference was hard to tell; as though the shadows greedily claimed everything in the absence of the light. Nettie looked around, trying to see if Master Ji or GloomSire had reacted at all, but¡­ nothing. Had she blinked? Before the thought finished, the sensation had already disappeared.


    "Then it is a good thing that Zaem is in a different direction from the Pavilion." The Oracle nodded once to Master Ji, who bowed his grizzled head. "Sanctuary will arrange for your safety while you stay for the Festival."


    The Oracle managed to speak in a dismissing manner without changing her tone. Nettie would have been impressed, if she could just shake off the sensation of the Oracle''s gaze from earlier. Master Ji turned around, a gentle mountain, offering Nettie a hand, but Nettie stepped forward again.


    "Wait." Eager as she was to be away from the cold darkness of the Inner Sanctum, Nettie nevertheless needed to do one more thing.


    "The Ring." Nettie held out her hands. Though it was perhaps too late; far too late. GrandFather had told Nettie not to allow the Oracle to take the ring. But Nettie could still get it back. "Please return GrandFather''s Ring."


    "You already have it," the Oracle replied.


    "Nettie does ¡ª?" Nettie looked at her hand and saw the gleaming band around her index finger. Clutching her hand closed, Nettie retracted her hands back into her cloak as she checked the Ring. Everything was where it should be ¡ª GrandFather''s remaining aura sealing the Ring remained untouched. Had the Oracle left it unbroken? Was that why she asked whether the SunFlower''s design was inside?


    Remembering her manners, Nettie bowed slightly, keeping her sight on the Oracle. "Nettie thanks you."


    "You are quite welcome."


    Master Ji offered Nettie his hand again, and Nettie allowed him to put her on his shoulder. Even as Master Ji and GloomSire turned to walk out of the Inner Sanctum, Nettie rotated herself to keep her eyes on the solitary figure glowing in the middle of the dais. The Oracle''s posture remained unchanged, and Nettie could not see the eyes behind that dragon mask.


    The glow did not flicker again. The darkness of the Inner Sanctum stayed far, far away from that dais.


    ***


    Castle in the Sky, several days later


    Molam stared up into the darkness in his room. After the phoenix had declared him free, he had spent the last few days in the Castle alone, trying to collect his thoughts. But what was there even to collect? What did that even mean, free? Did that mean he hadn''t been beforehand?


    The acknowledgment that he had done enough to repay RainBringer for her grudging upbringing left Molam with a sense of wistful ennui, as though all of his experiences so far had not been wholly his own. The thoughts filled him with anger and disappointment; he spent his days reading and pacing the Castle''s empty halls by himself, trying to understand what it was that caused such a sensation of loss.


    If this was freedom, why did it feel so confusing? Why did it not feel more¡­ freeing?


    Molam could not understand.


    Worse still, the Library''s door had been locked when he tried it. It had never been locked before.


    That one''s always preferred its solitude when you needed it. The phoenix''s voice echoed in his mind as Molam tried the Library again. The doors did not budge. When he asked the Castle''s caretaker spirits, they said that his mentor had closed the Library.


    RainBringer''s journey must have gone far, for she had not returned since she left, the day after they spoke. Knowing he could at least walk through the Castle''s halls without feeling cowed by her gaze brought Molam a shred of relief. Five years had passed, but some things never changed.


    The days passed in silence with Molam slowly rearranging his room, and when he was done, rereading what scrolls and books he could still access. He could appreciate going back to written works he once found familiar, and enjoyed discovering new angles and facets to ideas he once thought he fully understood. There was a certain sense of rediscovery that seemed to affirm that his thoughts had grown if he could revisit old topics with new perspectives, and Molam cherished that feeling.


    Every day, Molam still made a walk to the Library, wondering if his mentor would unlock the door and allow him to borrow new material, even if they did not want to see him specifically. The door never opened, and the phoenix seemed annoyed that Molam would try every day.


    Every night, Molam tossed and turned as he struggled to sleep. The Oracle''s question echoed in the darkness around him each time. And if that piece is a child? It bore a pounding hole into his thoughts, worsened by the answer he had given before it. The answer his village elder had once decided.


    How could he? He had thought about that moment for so long, attempted to bury it so many times that he knew it better than anything else. All he had wanted then was for someone to speak up, for someone to have defended him. Did Nettie have anyone like that? Would anyone challenge the Oracle''s decision?


    The day came when Molam walked to the front of the Library''s door to see a book floating in the air. He walked up to it, seeing an old copy of the Companions'' fable flipped open to a faded page with a verdant aura shimmering through some of the words.


    "They do care, after all." Molam smiled as he walked up, reading the emphasized section.


    Bah. The phoenix materialized on his shoulder, lowering its neck as it read with Molam. Not even showing themselves. Such insincerity.


    "My mentor most likely doesn''t want to be pestered with my endless questions. And maybe they don''t want to see you either?"


    My brilliance is blinding. The phoenix preened itself smugly, then peered around the book, as though something else should be here. Or at least, I would be able to give better advice than this. Really now: "Heaven seemed so far up the Stairs, yet the Hero and his Companions did what they could. They began with a single step." It paused, then shrugged. Is that supposed to be helpful?


    Molam closed the book, feeling the book''s weight sink into his hand as the aura sustaining its levitation dissipated. He meditated in the moment on those words, feeling his lungs expand with air as his thoughts spun, trying to understand his mentor''s meaning. When he could no longer keep the breath in his chest, he exhaled. "It''s enough."


    Book in hand, Molam walked back to his room and began packing up some of his necessities.


    What are you doing? Asked the spirit. Are you going somewhere now?


    "''They began with a single step.''"


    Unlike the Companions, you are already up the Stairs.


    "That''s not what this is supposed to mean," Molam responded, rearranging things in his pack. "''Heaven seemed so far'' ¡ª that means what I want is far. And I know what I want ¡ª to go see the Princess at the Black Pyramid. But I cannot fly and RainBringer would not want me there, so there''s no point in trying to make that journey at this very moment. So instead, I thought about all the things I can do and chose the one I want to do the most. ''They began with a single step,'' after all."


    This seems like logic for those with fleeting lives.


    "Would you like to share with me the logic of immortals, then?" Molam stopped packing, looking at the phoenix. "If you were me, what would you do in my place?"


    I¡­ well, I doubt my wisdom would be helpful to a human. The phoenix shuffled its feet on his shoulder, not making eye contact. So, what is it you are about to do?


    "Finish what I didn''t. Maybe clean up some of my mess."


    ¡­you cannot be serious. This is where you wanted to be.


    "RainBringer was being difficult, but this feels so¡­ so aimless. I sit here drinking water, eating burnt tribute, reading what isn''t in the Library, and playing dragon chess against the spirits. My mentor is right: I need to keep moving." And if he wasn''t too late, a child needed saving. But Molam kept that thought to himself.


    If food is the issue, I am sure the caretaker spirits can arrange for¡ª


    "That''s not the main issue." Sealing his pack closed, Molam slung it over his shoulder. "I hate to admit it, but the Oracle was right. My shortsightedness with JiangXi will cause problems to others and it needs to be addressed." He looked at the unstrung bow on his wall, then shook his head. "Well, the first thing I need to do is see through your rebirth. You know, I''ve seen quite a bit during my five years of traveling, but the one thing I never experienced was Sanctuary''s Festival of the Hero."


    That is your choice? To see a Festival?


    "To also help you with your rebirth while I''m at it. And why not? It''s my choice to do what I want now, and I''ve decided I''m going to see the Festival I''ve heard so much about." After a moment, he added, "And there''s something I need to speak to the Oracle about."


    This seems¡­ inconsistent with my memories of you. The feather wrapped around his wrist flared and the phoenix took its ethereal form on his shoulder, peering curiously at Molam. Have you lost your sanity in just a week''s time?


    "I am perfectly fine," Molam left his room, walking down towards the Castle''s terrace at a brisk pace. "And if you have my memories, you should know that ¡ª"


    "Consistent adaptability is the one true strength." The spirit finished. Yes, yes, I know that one''s mantra.


    "Well if you know that, you''ll find that I''m being perfectly consistent." Molam passed through the gates, waving at the gold and silver armors. "At least, you weren''t expecting me to just live out my life in the Castle, right?"


    I did not know what you would want to do, but all I wanted to do was give you the choice.


    "And I appreciate that." Molam saw the Stairs from afar. "I really do."


    Should you not think through your decision before you go back down? The Oracle might not open the Stairs for you again.


    "That''s fine. You already told me before I came up here, but I had to really experience living in the Castle without her to know that this isn''t where I want to be." Molam walked up to the Stairs. "Is this not to your benefit? You seem very worried about my decision."


    It is more comforting to know you would help, but I am worried about you, Molam. This is a very swift decision.


    "But that''s the point! Just like how I needed to make a swift decision when I found out the Dao had a traitor, I need to act fast this time too. Perhaps this might be a swift decision to you, but as a mortal with a fleeting life, I don''t have the luxury of waiting to decide." And if I don''t, I may end up regretting the results, he thought to himself. He remembered Nettie''s bright eyes framed against her face''s dark skin, the way she constantly looked about during their trip back to ZhiXia City. The Oracle''s question echoed in his mind again. And if that piece is a child? His own answer haunted him.


    I think you are going through a very human experience, the spirit observed. One where every human yearns to rest but become restless when they do. You know, it doesn''t hurt to rest for a bit after half a decade of work. Perhaps if you ¡ª


    "Hush, Fiery One. Be supportive for once." Taking a deep breath, Molam stepped onto the Stairs, which glowed into life as he touched it. He watched its shimmering glow disappear high above the Castle and down into YiZhi Mountain.


    I am supportive. The spirit''s voice seemed indignant. This is where hatchlings jump and learn to fly.


    Molam bit back a retort. "''They began with a single step,''" he reminded himself, then began walking down the Stairs.

 Ch 38: Preparations for a Festival

    We have such undeserved faith that the good times will continue forever. So mortals fantasize about the illusion of "eternity," deluding ourselves into thinking that the good times will last.


    ¡ª Meditations, by the Red Emperor


    <hr>


    The days leading up to the Festival of the Hero brought about a simmering thaw to ZhiXia City. Preparations for the festivities woke the residents of ZhiXia City like a hibernating bear; slow at first, then a steady stream of activity as the last snows of Winter''s Sorrow trickled away.


    Cleaning came first. With the Festival just days away, the people of ZhiXia came together to sweep away the mud along the streets left in RainBringer''s wake. In many respects, this could be seen as the beginning of the Festival for the residents of ZhiXia City: the grouping of adults and children coming together to set the stage for the Festival encouraged socializing and merrymaking. Children took the chance to stretch their legs, carrying buckets and pails of the mud to the city''s claymakers. There, the mud from RainBringer''s divine storm would be separated for clay that could be used for bricks and pottery, and the rest sent to the fields to enrich the soil in the hopes for a good harvest.


    Stores and stall fronts began opening as soon as their streets became clear. The owners or their representatives stood out front, handing out samples of their food or wares to people passing by. Traditional greetings were shouted with energetic smiles, as people who hadn''t yet seen each other since the beginning of Winter''s Sorrow found their friends and acquaintances.


    A light breeze wafted through the streets, bringing with it the smell of smoke and burning charcoal fanned into the air as stone ovens and cooking flames roared to life. Cooks drizzled vegetable oil and fats onto metal plates or cooking instruments, expertly eyeing the amount they would need before they added more ingredients.


    Soon, the mixture of savory and sweet smells mingling with the hint of spices and dried herbs filled the air. One sniff brought about the scent of sizzling meats and grilled vegetables, as well as the tantalizing smell of baking bread and pastries. Another sniff and one could smell the fragrance of freshly brewed tea.


    With clean streets and this bevy of wafting aromas, the residents finished up their cleaning and began looking forward to satisfying their grumbling bellies. For others, however, a new task had arisen; preparing the city itself for the Festival.


    Some people began affixing decorations to each building. Many shapes and sizes could be seen, from lanterns to clouds to simple geometric shapes, but the colors were all gold, indigo, or white. People shared ladders, with those holding the base shouting encouragement as others stepped up high to pin the decorations in each place. Others, more sharp-eyed, pointed out any leftover mud or puddles to the ladder holders to prevent any unwarranted accidents. A few groups of volunteers did one final sweep of the streets, looking for these overlooked spots.


    Primrose watched the residents decorate the streets of ZhiXia from her balcony in HuaLang Chamber, whiling away the time and running the occasional errand for the Chamber as she waited for the Oracle''s summons. She had initially thought the Oracle would summon her the next day, but all had been quiet. Then the day after, she sought out Shurra and walked with the Northern Warrior as she hauled large bundles of elderwood to Sanctuary. There, Primrose casually asked the Priestesses if the Oracle had sent for her ¡ª perhaps the messenger had gotten lost? ¡ª but the answer had been a resounding no.


    The Oracle would summon Primrose when she was needed.


    And so Primrose could only spend her days helping HuaLang Chamber prepare for the Festival as well. Sanctuary''s Festival in particular attracted many tourists that could afford to travel through the muddy roads of Spring''s Blessings, in turn bringing a slew of rich patrons for the Chamber. With rich patrons came insatiable appetites for exotic Needs, Wants, and Desires, many recurring but all seeking to be satisfied at the Chamber.


    But while the Chamber kept itself well-equipped to sate many peculiar requests, there came the occasional new patron who had had a little too much to drink. There was significant overlap between these people and those who did not understand the first rule of the Chamber: their safety was only guaranteed so long as they respected the Chamber''s rules.


    Primrose hadn''t walked patrol since she was a Bud, and vividly remembered the first time she had confronted a rowdy patron. She was significantly more calm now as she approached the patron in front of her.


    "Well, aren''t you¡­ aren''t you¡­" the patron, clad in just a light robe, swayed at the doorway to a room, squinting at Primrose as she walked calmly up to him. "...beautiful. I think you will be a ¡ª hic ¡ª a great replacement for this terrible excuse for a Flower." He pulled a woman out from the room and thrust her towards Primrose, a whirl of torn green and yellow silk in disarray.


    Primrose caught the woman, laying her down next to the wall. "Anything broken, Glay?" Primrose asked, giving her a swift examination. Gladiolus shook her head, gasping for breath in between murmuring with a hoarse voice that she was not terribly hurt. Satisfied that nothing was broken, Primrose nevertheless saw the marks on Gladiolus'' neck, visible even on her dark skin. Primrose gave her a pointed look, touching her own neck in the same place. Gladiolus shook her head.


    Placing a reassuring hand on Gladiolus'' shoulder, Primrose straightened up and gave a small whistle as she approached the drunk patron. "Young Master, I believe you are currently drunk and have forgotten the Desire you initially requested from the Chamber. If you could perhaps take some time to rest, we have wonderful rooms for you to rest and sober up before you are given another chance to see your Desires met."


    The man leaned against the doorframe, still squinting at Primrose. "Well. Your voice. Wow." He leaned forward, almost falling, pulling himself back. "Has anyone¡­ ever¡­ anyone ever¡­ told you¡­ your voice is¡­ wow." He shook his head, closing one eye and licking his lower lip as he tried to finish the thought. "Yes. The voice. As beautiful ¡­ as you look?" His eyes narrowed as his brows furrowed with thought. "Red hair? Where have I ¡ª"


    Primrose kept her voice level. "Would you perhaps prefer to stay in the room you currently have?"


    It seemed as though the thought escaped the man, for he shrugged then pointed at Primrose again. "I don''t think I''ve ¡ª hic ¡ª played with red hair before."


    "I apologize, but I do not serve Desires," Primrose stepped to the side, away from the pointed finger. The finger followed her; Primrose added a hint of warning to her tone, "HuaLang Chamber would prefer you cooperate before you lose your right as a patron."


    "Oh. Ohhhh." The hand flipped and the finger curled, beckoning at Primrose. "And you know I am an¡­ an esteemed patron, do you? Well I came to be ¡ª hic ¡ª I came here¡­ to be¡­ satisfied, ya hear?" He jutted his chin out at Gladiolus'' direction. "And she just wouldn''t do. So ¡ª hic ¡ª so ¡­ so¡­what will it be," he belched, "huh?"


    Primrose felt Dahlia sidle up to her side, her steps perfectly silent.


    "The Madam summons you."


    "Now?" Primrose protested; her hand had already slipped into her sash for a hilt. "Dahl, this man¡ª"


    A light twang resonated throughout the air, the vibrating hum putting the hairs on Primrose''s neck on end. Dahlia raised a brow at Primrose; the patron seemed unperturbed by the sound. After a moment, Primrose dropped her hand to her side then said, "I understand."


    "Hold¡ª" the patron lurched forward with a staggered step, "This one''s going to attend me, I never¡ª"


    Dahlia sidestepped the man, shoving an arm under his to pull him up. Her other hand reared with the glint of a needle before jabbing into the patron''s neck. The patron struggled, "Ow. You low-born whore, what the¡­ what¡­the ¡ª" before going limp in Dahlia''s arm.


    "Is he dead?" Primrose wouldn''t understand if Madam Scarlette had called her off only to let Dahlia do the deed. The unspoken rule within the Chamber was that those who broke the rules were only allowed to live if they could serve other purposes.


    "No, just having a dream. He won''t remember anything tomorrow." Dahlia rolled her eyes at the patron''s robe opening, exposing his manhood. She unceremoniously covered him up. "I may have shoved that a bit deeper than usual, but he laid his hands on Glay."


    "I''ll be fine," Gladiolus spoke up, "I only allowed him to keep his hands on me too long."


    Primrose frowned. "Didn''t the Madam teach you to act first and control the situation?"


    Gladiolus looked down. "I didn''t know if the Madam wanted to keep him alive, so I hesitated."


    "He''s the son of Falysos'' City Lord, of course he''s still useful." Dahlia hefted the snoring patron''s arm onto her shoulder. "I''ll tuck him back in. Oh, and Prim? Not to the nameplates, but to the Madam''s study. Along the western side. Get going, get going."


    "Yes yes," Primrose turned, then looked back. "Glay, do you need me to bring you to see Sunny?"


    "I can make it downstairs just fine," Gladiolus smiled. "It''s just the neck. Get going, before you test the Madam''s patience."


    "If she''s in a hurry she would let us jump up the floors," Primrose murmured while nodding. "But no~ the Chamber has an image to maintain."


    She could hear Gladiolus'' low chuckle as they parted ways.


    ***This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    As Primrose approached the closed door to the Madam''s study, a sharp thunk swung the door ajar. A small piece of wood, affixed to the door, glinted with several needles buried deep inside.


    "How many slabs of wood do you go through a month?" Primrose walked in. "That must add up."


    "I limit myself to two." Madam Scarlette sat at her desk, inspecting several ledgers without looking up. A pipa, no doubt the instrument responsible for the Madam''s signal earlier, was strung and mounted right behind the Madam. "Though I have made it a goal to make it only three every two months. It gives me new motivation to lower my amount of meetings."


    Primrose glanced around the room before closing the door behind her. "Why not just leave it open?"


    The Proprietress leaned back, her purple veil fluttering just above her nose. "I don''t have the luxury to dedicate time for practice." A solitary finger brushed at the veil obscuring her eyes as she added, "I must therefore live in practice." The hand lowered onto the desk as Primrose felt the Madam''s gaze on her. "Have you refamiliarized yourself with the Chamber? I hear you haven''t been spending your time tending to the gardens."


    A memory surfaced; amber eyes, a fiercely loyal personality, and the swiftness of a spear. Primrose relaxed her stony face, suddenly conscious of the weight of a spear-tipped dagger hidden on her body. "The gardens require a tender hand that I am not currently able to give."


    "A shame. I remember how much you loved caring for the flowerbeds." The Madam''s voice took on a gentle tone. "Have you been stretching?"


    "Yes, but I hope that''s not what you summoned me for."


    The corners of Madam Scarlette''s lips curled before she pointed to a letter with Sanctuary''s mark on the drawer. "The one you''ve been waiting for."


    A swift stride brought Primrose to the drawer, opening the letter to read it. She bit her lip, then looked up at the Madam expectantly, assuming she had already gone over its contents.


    "You were granted permission to act on your own the first time Sanctuary summoned you. That hasn''t been rescinded." Madam Scarlette tilted her head, listening to something far away. "I see our rowdy patron has dreamt of his Desires being duly satisfied."


    "You are too lenient with some." Primrose complained. "Glay is relatively inexperienced with keeping herself safe."


    The Madam shrugged lightly. "Gladiolus asked for this assignment, and she learned something in the safe confines of the Chamber. She''s strong enough to recover and take my words to heart."


    After a moment, Primrose decided to not argue. Instead she added, "I want the assignment if it comes to gelding that one."


    Madam Scarlette laughed, then gestured a slight dismissal, "That day may come. But for now, your assignment is to do the Oracle''s bidding while keeping the Chamber''s goals in mind. Go see the Festival."


    ***


    Outskirts of ZhiXia City


    Only the very few sensitive to aura could ever detect the faint aura making up the Domain enclosing ZhiXia City. For the others that learned to See, ZhiXia City looked as though it were submerged underwater. Deep within it, Sanctuary glowed a soft white.


    Rei descended from the skies, making sure to steer clear of the Whale''s Domain encircling ZhiXia''s outskirts. Roxxa and Desmi''s aura signatures pulsed briefly in her senses and she swiftly found their encampment.


    Landing near their campsite with a graceful and haughty step, Rei greeted the two. "Roxxa. Desmi."


    "Rei." Roxxa nodded back. A giant Northerner with piercing blue eyes and short-cropped silver hair, Roxxa the OutCast sat taller than Rei could stand. Her light sleeveless jerkin with ash-gray fur lining the edges did nothing to hide the myriad of tattoos decorating scars running down her arms as she lifted her poleaxe again. A fluid swing split the wood into two halves, which she tossed into the campfire nearby.


    The only Northerner directly serving the Empire of the Sun.


    "Rei! Oh good, now that you''re here we can start!" Desmi stepped forward with open arms. Contrasting with Roxxa''s simple clothes for ease of movement, the Islander wore relatively thicker clothes under a hooded cloak, having only recently become accustomed to the mainland''s weather in the colder seasons. The hood covering his head masked most of his thick black hair, but his dark brown face and thick jaw loomed out from underneath. Rei ducked and slipped under his arms, leaving him grasping the air.


    A disapproving gust of wind knocked him off balance as Rei straightened up, pressing down upon the rear end of the harpoon strapped to the Islander''s back as he tumbled forward, stopping it from hitting her thigh.


    "Still have your fear of hugs, I see," grinned the only Formosan Islander currently on the continent.


    "Isn''t Kymja around here to see you flirting with others?" Rei stepped around Desmi''s entangled legs and made for the campfire, sitting down across from Roxxa. "That being said, where is Kymja? I thought I had the furthest to travel." Looking around, Rei frowned to see no sight of any of Kymja''s belongings at the site. "Has she not yet arrived?"


    "Oh, don''t gloat just yet, you''re still the last one." Desmi sat up, wiping away dirt from his cloak. "In fact, Kymja ran off instead of waiting for you."


    "What do you mean, she ran off?" Rei''s eyes narrowed. "We''re here to do something at Ruskru''s command. Has Kymja gotten so distracted she forgot her responsibilities?"


    "No, of course not; that''s why she came with me," Desmi replied defensively, pushing himself up to his feet and sitting down on a nearby rock.


    "If you say so," Rei looked from Desmi to Roxxa, waiting for them to point out Kymja. "Then where is she?"


    Desmi swallowed. "Well, that there is the problem, isn''t it ¡ª"


    Roxxa interrupted, lining up another thick log. "Kymja wanted to see Sanctuary''s Festival of the Hero."


    Rei''s mouth opened as she looked from Roxxa to Desmi, then towards ZhiXia City where the indigo dome persisted in her Sight, before turning back to her two comrades with a look of damning disbelief. "Kymja entered that?"


    "Well, it might look daunting to us," Desmi admitted, "But Kymja has already entered before. How do you think she saw the Prodigy?"


    "We can''t follow her into that." The Domain pulsed lightly in Rei''s Sight; the mere thought of touching it filled her with dread. It was as though she treaded lightly around a sleeping beast. The Whale''s quiet aura carried a subtly lethal sensation; it sent a tingling sense of cold admiration down her neck. No wonder the Prince had ordered them to avoid a direct confrontation with the former Commander of the First Division. "None of us can hide like Kymja. Both of you can See that, yes?"


    "Awww, is our little Rei scared?" Desmi teased her playfully, holding out an arm towards her. "You can hold my hand if it makes you feel better."


    "Hold that arm straight, Desmi, I think it''s a bit too long for you." Snapping open her fan, Rei beckoned in a sickly sweet voice as she brandished her fan''s sharp edge. "How about I shorten it by a hand-length?"


    The poleaxe whistled through the air, splitting another log in two. Roxxa bent over to toss another piece into the flames before sitting down again, her gaze meeting Rei''s without flinching.


    After a moment, Rei sat down and put away her fan. Roxxa''s gray-blue eyes bore down on Desmi, who sighed and sat down as well before the Northerner spoke. "Rei is right: We can''t enter the Whale''s Domain unless we''re prepared to risk fighting him. And Kymja didn''t enter it just to have fun; she promised to stay in contact with us. And now that we''re all here, we can discuss how we''re going to avoid him and secure the Prodigy."


    ***


    ZhiXia City, near Mursa Shang''s caravan


    "No. Get up. I do not accept disciples."


    Shurra tried to follow the Whale of ZhiXia, still on her knees. "Master Ji, I ¡ª"


    "You have received guidance, nothing more." The Titled One seemed uninterested in staying, pulling his arm out of Shurra''s grasp. "Your way is clear. Continue what you are doing and you may find your own Domain one day."


    Before Shurra could protest, the Whale had gone, pushing through the crowd around the caravan. The mursashu gave him a wide berth.


    "Don''t ask him again."


    Shurra turned at the chilling voice to see GloomSire looking down at her. She pushed herself up from her kneeling position, swiping off the dirt before turning around to face the shorter man. "Haven''t you?"


    "No. He and I go back a little longer than that." The man leaned against a nearby wagon as he spoke, his low voice hard for Shurra to follow. She stepped closer to hear. "And don''t take it too personally. He finds the idea of a Master-Disciple relationship too heavy and burdensome."


    The idea that the Whale would find anything too difficult for him made Shurra frown. "He told you this?"


    "No. But if you know anything about¡­" GloomSire''s voice trailed off as he stroked his chin with bandaged fingers. "Ah yes. His former disciples never received Titles."


    "The Whale of ZhiXia had disciples?" Shurra asked in amazement.


    The man nodded. "Just two. I met them once, when they were just a girl and a boy." He looked at Shurra''s expression, then added quietly, "Both of them are dead."


    "I assumed, if I haven''t heard of them." Shurra pressed her lips together. "But how?"


    GloomSire shrugged his shoulders. "When the Empire took control of Teljumaya, the Bloody Prince fell into slumber. His two disciples heard and went to kill the Bloody Prince. What do you think happened when they were discovered by the Empire''s other Titled Ones?"


    "That seems both overkill and undeserved." Shurra felt her eyebrows pinch as she tried to understand. "Titled Ones fighting untitled people to the death? Do they not care about their own honor?"


    "You Northerners and your obsession with honor reminds me why I never got along with Maxxi," GloomSire muttered. "And you''re still young enough to think everyone should follow your arbitrary rules."


    "Arbitrary?" Shurra was livid. "Does reputation not matter at all?"


    The man shrugged in response. "Not to the dead. I was simply cautioning you to not bother asking him to be your master. And why does it matter? He''ll teach you what you want to know. You don''t need to present him with the three bows to make it official."


    Shurra crossed her arms in thought. What the man was saying was true, and Master Ji had been very forthcoming with his advice. If she could continue learning and improving without the requirements of a master-disciple ceremony, why did it matter if she could claim the Whale of ZhiXia as her honorable master or not? She wouldn''t want her fame to be tied to merely being the Whale of ZhiXia''s disciple either.


    "I will keep that in mind," she nodded, then asked, "I haven''t seen you for some time. Will you be joining the Festival''s Martial Arena?"


    GloomSire shook his head. "Titled Ones don''t participate."


    The prohibition gave Shurra pause. "I can see why the other Southern cities would stop Titled Ones. But the Sage''s Mirror is supposed to summon an equal opponent, no? It could be an honorably fair battle if ¡ª"


    "It''s not about fairness." GloomSire interrupted Shurra. "It''s about two Titled Ones fighting it out in a City. Perhaps in the Northern Plains you can afford to be more destructive, and I heard the Twin Stars encourage it, but none of the Cities can afford to have a fight on that level of destruction. ZhiXia City is no different in this regard, even if it conducts the Festival through using the Sage''s Mirror."


    "I see." Shurra felt disappointed, knowing she wouldn''t get the opportunity to see this fight. "Don''t you feel cheated out of a good learning opportunity? To practice against an opponent of your caliber so you can fight against the Tempest?"


    "He recommended that I work on something else, and I have." Though his expression hardened, GloomSire did not take her bait. "Just like you should work on yours. The Festival will be a good opportunity for you to understand what path you want to take with establishing your Domain."


    Shurra sighed. "Yes. I''ve been meaning to ask Molam about this when I see him. If I see him soon."


    "What do you mean, ''if?''"


    Shurra was about to respond when GloomSire spun around, cocking his head to the side. Her own sensitive ears heard the distant hoot of an owl, then another, firmer hoot.


    "GloomSire?" Shurra took a step towards him, then froze. Bloodlust emanated from the man''s eyes, a dark indigo. The sensation sent Shurra''s back and neck muscles fully tense, a spine-chilling sensation she had only ever experienced before during her most dangerous hunts.


    "I am going to confirm something." The words came out of him, soft as silk yet sharper than a needle. "If I don''t come back before the Festival ends, tell Master Ji."


    A loud roar, then a black shadow flew over them. Shurra looked up to see GloomSire''s bonded pixiu fly overhead as everyone in the vicinity pointed up, making a loud commotion. Another blur saw the man leap up to his bond and straddle it, before the two flew off. Shurra could barely tell, but she thought the Titled One had a look of grim determination.

 Ch 39: Once More

    To Head Scholar Yuya,


    This is urgent.


    As we were tallying RainBringer''s comings and goings from YiZhi Mountain, we spotted a draconic form flying southwest from the Castle in the Sky towards the Endless Sands. We know for a fact that it was not RainBringer, for RainBringer herself flew northeast no more than a week later, predicted to bless the fields in Teljumaya.


    There was no mistaking it. My cohort of scholars and I are not trained in the Sight, but between us we have tentatively agreed that the scales were jade-green, the mane and the horns a bright yellow-gold. A stark contrast from RainBringer''s cerulean scales, light gray mane, and white-silver horns.


    To get ahead of your questions, it was not IceMourne. She has already returned to the Northern Plains. And unless our fellow scholars have not updated us on EarthShaker''s movements, he should still be sleeping within the Spike Maelstrom until Autumn''s Colors.


    Finally, I believe the direction it flew is important: south-west, towards the Endless Sands. As we all know, DuskWing''s old Lair, the Black Pyramid, has been dragon-less for centuries.


    The ongoing conclusion my other scholars and I have come to is grim. Scholar Khmi''s theory comes to mind: Summer''s Warmth has gone for too long without a dragon.


    Even in the best case scenario where the circumstantial evidence is unrelated, a previously unknown dragon has become active. The Cities cannot handle more disasters, but we may return to the historic days of Summer''s Plague.


    We request the Head Scholars to make an official request for Sanctuary to give us any information they may have. I pray that this dragon may be as benevolent as RainBringer.


    May the light of knowledge guide you through times of darkness.


    Scholar Gibryl


    <hr>


    Molam could scarcely believe himself as he walked down the Stairs. Though he had decided it himself despite the phoenix''s incessant cautioning, something about the descent into Sanctuary''s Inner Sanctum this time seemed off to him. With each step, the feeling of unease magnified itself, causing a falter in his step as the light from the opening above winked out of existence.


    You seem full of doubt.


    "Well yes, that often happens when a flightless human descends into darkness." Molam responded as he continued his descent. "On Stairs with no railings, too."


    Even though you already know what is down there? The spirit''s voice jibed.


    "One thing I know of fear: it has nothing to do with certainty." Molam quoted Flangel the Wise.


    Or perhaps, because you do not feel strongly about this.


    "I don''t," Molam agreed as well.


    A stunned silence, punctuated only by his echoless footsteps.


    "To put it perfectly together, I don''t feel strongly about leaving the Castle again."


    ¡­then what was with your earlier moment of conviction?


    "I do feel strongly about not staying in RainBringer''s Castle, particularly since I expect to be there again by myself." He paused mid-step, readjusting his pack. "Not to mention, RainBringer''s daughter is establishing her lair in the Black Pyramid, so my family member won''t be returning to the Castle anytime soon. Probably not within my lifetime."


    Your¡­ family. The spirit repeated. And RainBringer¡ª


    "RainBringer," Molam interjected, "is not one I would say is family."


    His voice echoed into nothingness. With a start, Molam realized his face must be flushed. But the idea that RainBringer was ¡ª could ¡ª be family; he shook his head. He had discarded the hope long ago.


    So, what is she?


    The question caught him off guard. "She''s more of a¡­ guardian."


    Oh? Now that''s a curious thought. Not family? Yet based on your memories, she was the one who had the caretaker spirits clothe and feed you? Who gave you a warm Castle to stay in?


    "That''s not family." Molam frowned at the idea. "Any guardsman barracks can have unbonded hounds that get tags, food, and shelter, but you can see the difference in treatment to see those aren''t family. It''s more of a pet."


    When I inevitably bring this up later, you just openly considered yourself a pet. The spirit''s voice contained a hint of mirth. Though I understand that some humans refer to their pets as family.


    "Look, you seem very concerned with this concept." Molam ribbed back. "Do you want me to consider RainBringer as family or something? I''d refer you to the learned scholars at the Fallen Star Pavilion, but it almost seems as though you have some ulterior intent behind this."


    The Prince talked about the idea of family a lot. It was one of the few topics I enjoyed listening to.


    Taken aback by the spirit''s sudden moroseness, Molam''s voice softened. "I assume spirits don''t have such a thing as family? Actually, now that we''re on the topic, where do spirits come from?"


    We have¡­ A jumble of thoughts ¡ª some bizarre, others incoherent ¡ª was conveyed to Molam. An image of nothingness, followed by a jumble of colors. A sense of something close to the self, splitting and fracturing. Formed thoughts struggled to the surface only to be drowned out by a tumultuous sense of confusing perspectives; of a singular point becoming whole, the everything found in nothingness, the burgeoning sense of time, the transcendent idea of being, the¡ª


    "Stop. That hurts my head." Molam shook his head, stopping in his descent and sitting down on the glimmering Stairs. His vision swam; he found himself leaning to the side, bracing his weight on a hand as he closed his eyes, trying to calm himself down from the dizzying thoughts.


    I apologize. I admit this is the first time I have tried speaking to a mortal about this.


    As the vestiges of the spirit''s confusing thoughts slipped away from his mind, Molam straightened himself up and leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. "I don''t know much about spirits, but the idea of family might be reserved for mortals with flesh and blood. The same way I don''t understand¡­ whatever you just tried to explain to me, it might be the same for me explaining family to you."


    That is understandable. I suppose I will observe for now and learn by watching you.


    "Observe?" Molam stood back up. "Observe what?"


    A spark flashed in the darkness and the phoenix materialized onto his shoulder in a swirl of flames. Well, you will make a family one day, yes?


    "What do you ¡ª" Molam turned his face to the phoenix with a look of incredulity then felt his foot step down incorrectly, slipping on the Stairs. His arms flailed, grasping for the glimmering steps of the Stairs above him in vain. Balance gone, Molam twisted himself to try and grab the steps he had slipped on only for his fingers to swipe through the empty air.


    The Stairs rushed past him as he fell, a glimmering pillar of light. Flames erupted around him in a bubble, but he fell right through them. The distant glow below rushed at him and the air rushed past his ears in a whistle when the spirit''s dismayed voice bellowed in his mind.


    Molam!


    ***


    Nothing hurt.


    Molam forced himself to open his eyes and sit up immediately. Nothing hurt. Nothing¡­ hurt. He looked down at his body and held out his arms, flipping his palms down and inspecting his limbs.


    You did well. He''s alive.


    Nothing hurt?


    "I see one of the Gods must have heard my prayer." Molam turned at the Oracle''s echoless voice to see her kneel-sitting behind him, watching him through her dragon mask. The phoenix glided down from above to alight on the Oracle''s raised arm. He looked down again to see he was laying on the Oracle''s dais. "Were you in such a hurry to return, child?"


    "No, I fell¡­ I thought I fell¡­" Molam looked down again. His beating heart slowed down as he looked for the words, looking up into the Inner Sanctum''s darkness. A deep breath, then a glance at the Oracle as he ran through all of the possible reasons why. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    "I see." Of course. The Inner Sanctum was her Domain. He ran a hand along the back of his head, ensuring nothing was truly broken.


    "Have you reconsidered taking advantage of the Prince''s slumber?"


    Do not pressure him. The phoenix flapped an irritated wing. His life is his own now, remember?


    "It is." The Oracle''s eyes stared at Molam as he stood up. "And he has chosen to come back down to participate in the Festival."


    "Do you choose to kneel?" Molam asked, pointing at the Oracle''s position. "I''ve never seen you in any other position in the five years I''ve seen you. That can''t be good for your knees, right?"


    The phoenix stared with beady eyes. Molam, boy, that is quite rude to the person who just saved your life.


    "Oh yes, thank you, I hope saving my life isn''t going to cost me another task." Molam shrugged at the spirit''s glare, looking down at the Oracle. "Sorry for changing the topic so suddenly. I wanted to give you the feeling of being the topic of discussion for once. Someone should care about your health."


    Molam refused to look away as he locked eyes with her. Though he had expected it coming down, he hadn''t expected the Oracle to be so perniciously stubborn. Well, if she intended to badger him repeatedly, he had no intention to give her the initiative in choosing the topic.


    "I appreciate your concern for my health, but I am surrounded by the Gods," she replied, gesturing. Molam spun around to see her white glow illuminating the statues of the seven Gods. "Should I not kneel to them?"


    He turned back to her slowly. "I see," he repeated himself again. "Well, once again, thank you for saving me."


    "It happens to be that I was wondering which Priestess I could trust with this." She held out her other hand. As she flipped her palm upwards, she seemed to pull the spirit''s red egg out of nothingness. "But now that you are here, I believe you are happy to oblige."


    "How would you know?"


    "Why else would you come down?"


    "Nettie." Molam didn''t bother keeping the accusatory tone out of his voice. "The Prodigy. Where is she?"


    "She is with Ji and Primrose. Why do you ask?"


    After a moment of searching the Oracle''s demeanor for any sign of lying, Molam relaxed his clenched fist. "I thought¡­ you would sacrifice a piece to delay the Empire''s victory."


    "Delaying is not a victory on my part, as you pointed out. And if the Prince had extracted the SunFlower''s design from Flangel, it would be a pointless sacrifice. We could use the Prodigy''s help in the future."


    Molam frowned. He had not expected the Oracle to be so¡­ pragmatic about the situation. "Well, yes. I''m certainly glad you could see it this way."


    "Now back to the main topic at hand." The Oracle held up the egg.


    Molam held out a grudging hand. With a gentle push, the Oracle floated the egg towards him. It sank into his palm, fiercely warm and pulsating with heat.


    "The Priestess outside will guide you to the bonfire."


    The spirit flew over to Molam''s shoulder. Three days and three nights. My egg will bask in that fire and when I wake, I will be truly reborn.


    "Do I have to stand there the entire time?" Molam asked.


    No. Just hide my egg in the World Tree''s elderwood and let it stoke in the flames. When this is over, I will allow you to bear witness my full glory. My wings are a mesmerizing dance of fire, my plumage painted with the very essence of dawn. In fact, I believe I am the origin of the human term for "looking hot," and you''ll understand when you see my tail-feathers ¡ª no grand display of celestial fireworks could ever aspire to my brilliant avian elegance. Not to mention my claws! An iron grip such as mine ¡ª


    Molam ignored the rest of its thoughts. "I''m going to need to be the one to start the fire too, no?" He pointed out. "That way I can carry the egg with me and place it just before we start the bonfire. Unless you trust that no one will find the egg. Actually, what if someone wants to steal it and can brave the flames?"


    It is the flame from burning elderwood. The spirit seemed annoyed that Molam had interrupted its monologue. No one could touch it.


    "If you say so. Assuming no one wants to touch the fire." Molam conceded, but still thought of how this could fail. "But what about before it''s burnt? I''m hardly a great protector."


    The Oracle pointed and an object whistled out of the Inner Sanctum''s darkness, coming to stop and hovering right next to Molam. A torch. "No one would touch you within Sanctuary. You will be allowed to start the bonfire. I trust you to do this well."


    "Saying this out loud makes me feel like a petulant child, but I want you to know that I''m not doing this for you." Molam snagged the torch out of the air. "Or for RainBringer."


    The dragon mask seemed to smile an eerie grin. "For whom then?"


    Molam turned away from the Oracle and walked towards the Inner Sanctum''s exit. "For myself."


    His footsteps echoed throughout as he waited for the Oracle to say anything in response. But she never did. The silence pressed in on him Only her echoless voice, repeating her last question inside his thoughts.


    For whom then?


    For whom indeed.


    ***


    When the door closed behind Molam, an orange feather sizzled near the Oracle''s cushion.


    I did not ask earlier while Molam was here, but something about your aura seems different. Is this focal point weighing on you?


    "I can still hold the Seal."


    Then what is it? You understand the importance of maintaining a clear mind. What is stopping your concentration? When she did not respond, the feather burned orange. You have already done well being DuskWing''s replacement for centuries, and you will only need to endure this a while longer.


    "I experienced a moment of wavering."


    What do you mean? The spirit asked sharply. The Seal loosened?


    "No. Just a thought." A pause. Then she murmured, "I experienced a moment where I gave significant consideration for having the current Prodigy¡­ removed."


    What? The spirit''s mental voice carried an air of surprise. Why?


    "She can build the SunFlower." The Oracle shook her head. "The boy was right. It seemed to be the simplest way. If that had been a solo audience, I cannot say for sure I would not have acted on it." After a moment, the Oracle added. "But it would not solve our problem. The Prince would merely find another method. I found the SunFlower''s design in Flangel''s Ring as well, and because we do not know if the Prince extracted it from Flangel¡­ I cannot rule out that he will be capable of building the SunFlower if he awakes. We will need the Prodigy and keep a copy of the design in case anything happens to her."


    I see. But you still need rest. The Seal must have weakened since DuskWing fell and caused the shadows to grow bolder. The feather combusted, spreading a ring of orange flame out in the Inner Sanctum. The fire passed harmlessly right over the Oracle''s head as it replaced the Oracle''s own white aura to chase away the darkness of the Inner Sanctum, fully illuminating it with a reddish glow. The only darkness that could be found hid within the shadows of the seven statues arrayed around the Oracle. I will channel through this feather to stabilize the leylines for the Festival''s duration so you can rest. I assume you will stay unbothered during the Festival?


    "No one will come in. Will this distract you from your rebirth?"


    Only my egg needs to be there, and we have done what we can to keep it safe. When I complete my rebirth, I will be able to help you stabilize YiZhi Mountain''s focal point, long enough for RainBringer''s daughter to establish her hold over the Black Pyramid.


    The Oracle lifted her head, eyes peering through her mask at the statues of the Gods. Their stone eyes saw none of the darkness behind them.


    "Ji should be able to handle the Festival by himself then, and the Prodigy is under his protection."


    No need to convince yourself. Rest. You have earned it.


    ***


    Molam found two Priestesses waiting for him in the halls of Sanctuary. On the left was Priestess Komura, her long hair tied in a tight bun that framed her face. Streaks of white ran through the black. He did not recognize the Priestess on the right; a younger woman moderately taller than Priestess Komura, with thick brown hair that glinted auburn over a slender brown face and button nose.


    The two of them bowed. Komura spoke, "The Festival begins in one incense''s time. I understand we are to guide you to the Festival''s bonfire as you have been selected to start it."


    "Priestess Komura." Molam stepped up and knelt down in front of her, holding her hand. "Don''t ever try this with me again. I do not ever deserve a bow from you." He added, "And I''m very worried you''re going to convince me to do something else."


    "I am showing the proper manners to my apprentice here." She smiled, but straightened up from her bow at the gentle insistence of his hand. She gave him a pointed look. "Even if you didn''t remember to act equally courteously to my apprentice. This is Priestess Shantayla."


    Molam''s gaze lingered on Priestess Komura for a moment before he straightened and turned to Priestess Shantayla. Had Priestess Komura always had those few extra wrinkles around her eyes and mouth? He hoped Sanctuary hadn''t finally assigned Priestess Komura an apprentice because she was¡­ aging.


    "I''m sorry if I seemed rude and I didn''t mean to act as though you weren''t there. I was merely surprised to see Priestess Komura, and we have known each other for quite some time." The younger Priestess seemed to turn stiff at being addressed, so Molam tried giving her a warm smile. He jerked his head towards Priestess Komura. "You can tell by how comfortable she feels when it comes to publicly chastising my manners."


    The girl nodded once. Then as though she decided it wasn''t enough, she nodded again, a furious motion that caused her hair to sway back and forth. Several strands of hair stuck to the front of her face, causing the girl to brush them away with a sleeve.


    "Only because your lack of manners reflect poorly on my teaching. Just as it would look bad on Sanctuary if the bonfire is late to be lit." Priestess Komura gestured down the hall, beckoning to Molam. Priestess Shantayla held out a hand in the same direction and looked at Molam, who stared at the silent Priestess in bewilderment. She still hadn''t said anything to him.


    "Did I offend you?"


    Priestess Komura laughed. "Don''t mind that. Shantayla doesn''t talk much. She made the mistake of saying the wrong thing last week and decided that it is best she says nothing while she learns the ways of a Priestess. I hope it''s only temporary, now that we''ve been paired as mentor and apprentice."


    "Don''t let one mistake dictate the rest of your life." Molam met Priestess Shantayla''s gaze, then winked. "I hear Priestesses cannot separate for the duration of their mentorship, and Priestess Komura loves to talk. She must be dreading your lack of responses."


    "I do not love to talk."


    "Ask your apprentice, then, when she''s ready to talk to you."


    Priestess Shantayla''s brown eyes softened ever so slightly, then she flickered her gaze towards where Priestess Komura was walking in a meaningful manner. Molam nodded, then the two of them followed.


    "That was rude of you for using me to put her on the spot then," he murmured to the older Priestess when he caught up to her. "I thought she was ignoring me because she disliked me."


    "Oh?" The Priestess didn''t look at him, guiding the way through Sanctuary''s winding corridors. "And what made you think that?"


    The Oracle''s earlier parting silence, he wanted to say. Even before that, a memory from long ago, when he asked why they were tying him up and was met with silence.


    "In my experience, saying nothing is still saying something."


    "For whom?" Priestess Komura glanced at him as they turned a corner. "For you or for themselves?"


    Molam stayed silent as they continued to walk through Sanctuary. Behind him, Priestess Shantayla''s muffled footsteps followed, but he thought against looking backwards at her. Priestess Komura''s question echoed the Oracle''s, reverberating in his thoughts.


    For whom?


    For whom indeed.

 Fifth Interlude

    Excerpt from Ending the Endless, by Head Scholar Dayton of the Fallen Star Pavilion


    <hr>


    The Festival of the Hero is held during Spring''s Blessings to celebrate the day of the Sun''s creation. Cities, towns, and villages alike observe the Festival, and it can be considered one of the few cultural traditions that unify all people below the Heavens. Interestingly, while the Festival celebrates the Companions'' journey it was the Red Emperor himself who suggested a name change to Festival of the Hero.


    While the Empire of the Sun and the Free Cities celebrate with slight differences, a few unifying themes echo throughout:


    A great bonfire, to be kept alive for three days and three nights.


    The Companions fought with the demons for an undetermined but lengthy amount of time to secure access to the Stairs, and so the Festival honors their heroic stand with a bonfire. A prominent tale featuring the Battle for the Stairs tells of the Hero''s torch and how it burned bright for the entire duration of that lengthy battle, acting as the beacon of light for them to rally around during the Endless Night.


    A ceasing of enmities; all grudges are to be suspended during the Festival.


    The Festival celebrates the triumph of humans over demons, and this could only have been achieved because the Companions put aside their own differences to stay together. There are many stories about the disagreements between members of the group, but they always trusted each other with their lives. The Festival asks that all participants be willing to sit down and talk to even their worst enemy during this time.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    A demonstration of martial prowess between combatants.


    The Festival asks for willing individuals to demonstrate their battle prowess and prove that humans are still ready to fight the ancient enemy if the Seal should ever come undone. Each City has their own preferred manner of fulfilling this particular ritual, but Sanctuary''s Festival is noteworthy for utilizing the Great Sage''s Mirror. The artifact summons the memory of a past warrior the Mirror judges best for the challenger to fight. For this reason alone, many warriors travel to ZhiXia City to participate in Sanctuary''s Festival.


    The traits celebrated also differ between the various peoples.


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">The Northern Tribes celebrate the Companions'' relentless strength, for without it they could not have hoped to succeed.</li>


    </ul>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">The Formosan Islands celebrate the Companions'' will for change, the catalyst of their successful journey.</li>


    </ul>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">The Oasians celebrate the Companions'' persistent resolve, for without it they would have despaired at failure.</li>


    </ul>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">The Mursashu celebrate the Companions'' unbroken unity, remembering that the group amplifies individual strengths.</li>


    </ul>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">The Empire of the Sun celebrates the Companion''s friendship without prejudice, for they accepted each other despite their differences.</li>


    </ul>

 Ch 40: Festival of the Hero

    The fundamental disagreement between the Empire of the Sun and the Free Cities is the main object of their worship. The Empire of the Sun does not dispute the existence of the Gods but declares them unworthy of worship.


    Instead, the Empire of the Sun worships the Hero (whom they refer to as the First Hero) and the Companions. The reasoning is that the Hero led the Companions to ascend the Stairs and asked the Gods to create the Sun. If they had not done so, our people would still be condemned to the cold darkness of the Eternal Night.


    Some may argue that because the Red Emperor was one of the Companions, he may have strongly influenced the direction of the Empire of the Sun''s worship. But one only needs to reference history to see that the Empire of the Sun also included the Gods in their worship several hundred years ago.


    I have gone through all of the historical records I can find but none reference why this change happened; only that it did.


    ¡ª Excerpt from A Difference of Belief, by Scholar Khmi of the Fallen Star Pavilion


    <hr>


    Whether by chance or deliberate planning, ZhiXia City and Sanctuary had the locations of the Festival''s three main attractions separated: the bonfire burned right at the City''s head in front of Sanctuary, the grudges were settled over food and drink on the City''s western districts, and the Martial Arena lay near the city''s eastward border.


    Street vendors were already set up, hawking their wares for attention and coins. The earliest had staked out sections near the main attractions, but there were still inexperienced stragglers. Whenever two fancied the same area, frustrated shouting would ensue, trailing into forced peace as dark humor was hurled past gritted teeth. The Festival was no time to develop a grudge, after all.


    The sizzling scent of food, melted fat and simmering spices cooking in large woks or above open fires spread throughout the air, enticing the gathering throng developing along the streets. The crowd spread towards the Martial Arena, a babbling stream of citizens pausing at stalls in swirling eddies. Despite the density of people, they parted for the Whale of ZhiXia as he waded through them in a natural and smooth manner. Primrose followed right behind the Whale, easily keeping pace in the space left behind him while she kept a close eye on Nettie. The young dark-skinned girl sat on the Whale''s shoulder, her head rotating non-stop as she stared wide-eyed at everything she could see, pointing and asking the Whale questions.


    Primrose took in all of this as she followed Master Ji, carelessly slapping down a wandering hand as it strayed too close to her waist. The man''s sharp yelp was drowned in the crowd as she mentally navigated past the cacophony of sensations: the food, the colors, the repetitive shouts of the street vendors. The streets were a world of raucous merriment and Primrose searched for any hint of bloodlust targeted towards her small charge.


    Not that Nettie needed it, sitting atop the Whale''s shoulder. And even later, when the Whale would officiate the Arena''s matches and Primrose would assume guardianship, Primrose saw little need for her presence. The Empire had just lost a City and the Bloody Prince was supposedly in slumber; this would not be a time for the Empire''s remaining Titled Ones to mount an unprecedented attack on Sanctuary.


    And yet, the Oracle''s letter kept it succinct: Primrose was to guard the Prodigy during the Festival. Primrose had initially flipped the page over, expecting more, but the back was empty, devoid of even the hint of a hidden message.


    Part of her wanted to be offended. She had dutifully done her part for the Oracle and bided her time at HuaLang Chamber. In her mind, perhaps they would go on to another of the Empire''s Cities ¡ª maybe Exabell or Falysos, though Primrose secretly thought about Teljumaya ¡ª and freed some more. If they could just erode the Empire''s strength while the Bloody Prince slept, it made sense that the Free Cities would look for a chance to move.


    A drunkard stumbled from the crowd, leaning towards Primrose as his dirty hands crept towards her thigh. Primrose snatched the wrist, flipping it upwards as she pressed a thumbnail down in between the tendons. The man shouted out in pain, falling down onto his knees in a flurry of curses, the thick stench of alcohol oozing from his open mouth.


    "It seems my grip is too strong for us to hold hands." Primrose dug her thumbnail deeper when the man tried to stand up, then dropped his wrist and pinched his nose. She would have done more, but the Festival forbade grudges or violence and the Whale was walking away. She layered aura into her voice. "Behave yourself. Go wash up and enjoy the Festival."


    She let go of his nose and flicked it, hoping that would help him smell himself, then turned to follow the Whale and Nettie into the Arena.


    ***


    The Arena itself was a sprawling structure; originally only two stories tall, the residents of ZhiXia City had expanded the Arena to five stories total over the centuries. A statue of the God Thraw stood above the main entrance, chiseled with a traditional helmet covering most of the Goddess'' features. Though none of the gods had graced the human realm for centuries, each passerby still paid their sincere respects.


    One could still distinguish between the Arena''s original structure and the later additions by looking for the light purple stone hewn from YiZhi Mountain. After Sanctuary had forbidden any further quarrying from the Mountain, the extra sections of the Arena had to be built out of dark gray granite.


    Two Priestesses, the older one with curly auburn hair and the younger one with her black hair tied in two buns, greeted them and guided their group to the third floor. A special room on the third floor affording a perfect view of the Arena had been reserved for distinguished guests. Primrose entered first ¡ª she found it generously spacious with an extravagant array of food and drink; she saw signs here and there that HuaLang Chamber had a hand in the catering. When they approached, Nettie hopped off of Ji''s shoulder, perhaps thinking that she would attract less attention on the ground.


    The Whale of ZhiXia ducked into the room, Nettie weaving in right under his legs. The room was almost empty except for the Priestesses and one bearded black man with a broadsword on his back. The man saw them and promptly came forward to fall down onto his knees in front of the Whale. Despite the grandiose gesture, the large broadsword on his back never clanged against anything.


    "Honorable Master Ji!" The man shouted into the floor as he pressed his head down. Primrose noticed that the man was missing his right arm, with the empty sleeve tied around his sword. "Your continued perfect health shines like the Sun, enduring in its brilliance!"


    The Whale of ZhiXia stepped around the man, beckoning towards Nettie and Primrose. "I told you I am not your Honorable Master and you are not my disciple, Martyker."


    "Nonsense!" The man named Martyker looked up at Master Ji with a bushy grin. "A good mentor for a day is an enduring mentor for a lifetime! Why, if I hadn''t received your guidance, I would still be ¡ª"


    "Uncle Marty?"


    Primrose tensed out of habit as Nettie approached the man, who spun around on his knees to face her. When he saw the girl, his thick-lidded eyes narrowed in thought and then widened as he whispered, "Nettie?"


    "Uncle Marty!" Nettie shouted with glee as she ran towards him.


    He stood up in a fluid motion, catching the little girl with his only hand as he spun her up and cradled her in the crook of his elbow. "I told you to call me the Armed Swordsman!"


    The Whale of ZhiXia frowned. "I did not know the two of you were related."


    "No blood relation, no blood relation! But I worked with Master Flangel when he needed help repairing the SunFlower, and the Prodigy would listen to my travel stories as I worked. This is good ¡ª very, very good; I had thought all of Techoria''s knowledge was lost when I heard that ¡ª Ow!" Martyker exclaimed as Nettie pulled at his dark scraggly beard. "The Armed Swordsman''s beard is not for pulling."


    "Nettie has a name!"


    "Oh, you''re right, you are very, very right. The Armed Swordsman apologizes. But remember, beards are like butterflies: if you pull on them you will never see them fly."


    "Nettie does not understand. Beards can fly?"


    "If you believe they can. Watch!" Martyker scrunched up his face while blowing a light stream of air from the sides of his mouth, wiggling his head up and down as he did so. The effect caused his mustache and beard to ripple, seeming like it was flying through the air as he pirouetted around the room with a cackling Nettie in his arm.


    Primrose stepped forward, meaning to whisk Nettie out of the man''s arm in case he tripped and fell. A silent step to the left behind him and ¡ª her hands swiped at thin air.


    "And who might you be, beautiful flower-wearing lady? Are you here to steal my only hand?" Martyker''s deep voice came from Primrose''s right side. She swiveled to face him and took three paces back, loosening a dagger into her palm on reflex. The man squinted at her. "Oh my, your beauty is comparable to even the Twin Stars. If you could ¡ª Ow! Nettie, not the beard!"You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    Nettie tugged harder. "Put Nettie down! Nettie hates moving quickly like that."


    "All right, all right, ouch, stop! Just don''t throw up like last time." Martyker quickly set Nettie down, who promptly stumbled towards Primrose. Primrose threw a protective hand around the girl, but her eyes never left Martyker''s frame, replaying the moment in her mind when he had stepped out of her vision. How?


    "Ah, curiosity burns like a lit incense. How indeed?" He drew out the words, caressing at his beard in a vain attempt to smooth it over. "You seem surprised."


    "You walk very lightly for someone carrying such a large sword." She returned the dagger back to its sheath; though Martyker had surprised her, she sensed that he carried no ill-intent. Primrose''s eyes flickered towards Master Ji, who had sat down and done nothing. "I suppose you must be a participant in the Arena."


    "I did come here for that, yes. And to pay my respects to my Honorable Master." Martyker tilted his head towards the Whale, who watched silently. "But to think I would get to see little Nettie again!"


    Primrose heard sounds coming from outside the room and pressed a finger to her lips as the door opened to admit several other participants, glancing from Martyker down to Nettie.


    "What do you ¡ª oh." Martyker nodded. "I understand, as the dung beetle sees the stars."


    Primrose had no idea what that meant nor did she care, but she shuffled Nettie towards the Whale''s direction as the room''s door opened and several more people poured in. She stared at Martyker as she passed; it was preferable to call Nettie by her name, but still a good reminder for the man to not draw attention to them.


    "It''s just a simple trick of the feet," he said, and Primrose shook her head. That was not what she wanted him to know. "Oh well, if you don''t want to know now, just watch my match later." He grinned, his white teeth shining through the bushy beard. "Perhaps you''ll learn something."


    Nettie tugged at Primrose''s sleeve. "Nettie does not feel good," the girl announced, then leaned forward and vomited onto Primrose''s dress and legs.


    ***


    Primrose looked up as a Priestess entered the lavatory, carrying fresh clothes for her and Nettie as well as a clean pair of boots. Primrose thanked the Priestess for her trouble and brought the smaller set of clothes to Nettie, who was still gargling water into a bin.


    "Nettie thinks porridge tastes better going down," the little girl declared, wiping her mouth. "Yuck."


    "Yuck indeed," Primrose agreed.


    "The water too." The girl began clambering up the water trough, reaching for the contraption above. "Nettie should take a look at this."


    "Wait," Primrose snatched Nettie down. "Your clothes. Hold your arms up." She helped the girl change into fresh clothes, taking care to not smear the regurgitated food on her clothes anywhere unnecessary.


    "Nettie is sorry about throwing up on you, Miss Primrose." The girl''s voice sounded contrite despite being muffled in her clothes.


    "Not Miss," Primrose corrected almost indignantly. "Big sister Primrose."


    "Oh," the girl blinked, "Nettie is sorry about throwing up on you, big sister Primrose."


    "It''s nothing." Certain that Nettie''s clothes had been completely changed, Primrose began tending to her own. First she pulled her clothes off, blinking at Nettie as her hair fell around her face. Though she had changed in front of the Flowers and Petals at the Chamber many times before, it felt different exposing where she kept her knives and daggers to Nettie. "Nothing we can''t fix without a change of clothes. And you can just call me Primrose."


    "Nettie is also sorry you have to look after Nettie."


    Primrose''s fingers slipped on the fabric, snatching the new clothes before it fell to the ground. She glanced at Nettie. "What?"


    "Nettie is also sorry you have to ¡ª" the girl began to repeat herself, but Primrose interrupted. "No, no, I heard that. I meant," she looked back down to her clothes and finished dressing herself, smoothing down the fabric to check if the outlines of any of her blades were visible. Buttoning up the front, she continued, "I meant, what brought this up? I''m not angry at you."


    "But Nettie understands you don''t want to be here." The girl looked down, shuffling her feet. "Nettie does not want to be a burden."


    Primrose looked at Prodigy ¡ª as in, truly looked. A young child at six Sorrows, barely older than a toddler. They hadn''t talked during the trip from JiangXi, but Primrose had seen enough to know Nettie was different. It unnerved Primrose in ways she could not truly explain; that everything she thought she knew about handling children both applied and were incorrect when it came to Nettie.


    "I''m not angry at you, Nettie. In fact, anyone would consider it a privilege to be assigned to protect you." When the girl didn''t respond or look up, Primrose knelt down so the two of them were at face level. Placing a gentle hand on the girl''s shoulder, Primrose forced her face to be passive. "Nettie. Will you please look at me when we talk?"


    The girl looked up, large brown eyes meeting Primrose''s gaze with hesitation. Primrose softened her voice, layering in her aura to soothe the girl. "Earlier, you said that you think I don''t want to be here. What makes you think so?"


    Nettie frowned. Her eyebrows were too far apart to close the distance. "Nettie dislikes when adults try to use aura like that."


    Ah, right. "No aura, then," Primrose smiled as she internally berated herself. Despite the girl''s looks and mannerisms, she was still a Titled One. "I''m sorry for that."


    "Nettie forgives you." The girl patted Primrose on the head. "But only for the aura. Nettie also dislikes fake smiles."


    Primrose felt her practiced smile falter, perhaps the first time since she had earned her flowers. Prodigy indeed. Was this what Nettie had meant when she implied she knew Primrose''s true thoughts?


    "Sometimes," Primrose began slowly, "Sometimes adults are used to showing a fake smile because we are¡­" she trailed off, then finished, "Because we are trying our best. To accept where we find ourselves."


    "Nettie knows." The girl patted Primrose''s head again. "GrandFather always said life is about trying our best."


    "Well, he was known as the Wise."


    "GrandFather was," Nettie agreed, then stood back and looked at Primrose. "But Nettie thinks this makes you want to be elsewhere when you cannot, and that is silly. Nettie has a suggestion."


    Primrose blinked. Then she gave a slow nod. "I am listening."


    The girl nodded back at Primrose. "Nettie thinks you should not think about accepting where you find yourself, but finding purpose in wherever you happen to be." She scurried over to the water trough and pointed at the contraption for dispensing water installed above. "See? Nettie can do better."


    After staring at the contraption, Primrose looked down to Nettie again. "I''m sorry, but I don''t understand."


    The girl stamped her foot lightly, as though frustrated at Primrose for being slow-witted, then clambered up the trough. Primrose rushed forward to hold the girl''s waist, afraid she might fall.


    "Hold Nettie up, please," the girl commanded, and wedged a small hand into the contraption. Primrose held the girl steady and watched with confused curiosity as Nettie pulled out a small black tube with faint glowing runes from within.


    "Is that dangerous?" Primrose asked urgently.


    "This?" The girl laughed, signaling for Primrose to put her back down. "Dangerous for you if you like being dirty, Nettie thinks. It is just a purification tool for water. Look with Nettie?"


    The girl inspected the black tube in full, rotating it in her hand and peering through the opening before she murmured, "Mm. Very good. But Nettie can do better."


    She rummaged within her clothes and pulled out a rune-carving pen, a smaller version of what Primrose had seen Kalle use. The pen''s tip came to life in a glowing bead of gold and Nettie began tracing new runes over the tube. After the third rune glowed on the tube, she was done, blowing lightly at the runes so they imprinted onto the material. Then she showed Primrose, rotating it in her hands as though Primrose would understand the runes. "See, see. Nettie made it consider the air in the lavatory too! Now the water is even cleaner."


    "I¡­ see," Primrose responded politely, then when the girl gave her a disapproving glare, she hastily added, "But I don''t think my purpose is to fix alchemy tools."


    "Nhaah," the little girl sighed, clambering up the water trough again. Primrose helped stabilize the girl as she stuffed the water purification tool back into the contraption. "Nettie is not telling you to fix tools. Nettie is showing you how you can find purpose wherever you are!"


    "Oh." Primrose blinked again, feeling as though she suddenly understood what the girl was talking about. A distant memory surfaced from when she spent time as a Petal, listening to the Madam about how a Flower should discipline her thoughts. About the ways a Flower could find joy, however temporary and transient, even in moments of wishing she wasn''t being embraced. Discipline. How many times had the Madam repeated her mantra? Mastery over one''s thoughts leads to control over one''s actions. "Oh," she said again, "I see."


    "Hmm." The girl peered at Primrose''s face before she nodded as she hopped back down. "Yes. Nettie sees you understand. If you feel better, Nettie thinks we should return."


    Primrose allowed the little girl to pull her out of the lavatory, their soiled clothes bundled up safely. The Priestess who had brought them clean clothes accepted the soiled clothes, nodding when Primrose explained where to bring them.


    On their way back to the room, Primrose saw herself in the little girl pulling her along. She remembered a little girl, one who had just lost her home, comforting Scarlette as the older girl sobbed silently after her first day as a Flower. How had she forgotten?


    "I''m sorry."


    Nettie looked back at her. "For what?"


    "I just¡­ am." Primrose bit back the urge to apologize again. How could she have forgotten? The girl had just lost her home, her family, and here she was, comforting Primrose. "I thought I was an adult. You grow up, thinking you''ve outgrown the things that used to define you. But just between the two of us; sometimes, I am still a child."


    Nettie seemed to think her words over, then shrugged. "Nettie doesn''t understand, but Nettie forgives you anyways. How-eh-ver!" The girl''s small hand squeezed Primrose''s fingers with each syllable. "Nettie won''t forgive you if Nettie misses the matches! What if Nettie misses Uncle Marty''s match?"


    "Aren''t you supposed to call him the Armed Swordsman?" Primrose smiled.


    "Names. Have. A. Purpose!"


    "All right, all right." Primrose allowed Nettie to pull her back towards the previous room. Finding purpose wherever she found herself, was it? But if purpose was found in what one did best, Primrose hoped she didn''t need to do anything here. She looked down at the girl. "But you do know this Martyker, right? He said he helped Flangel the Wise fix the SunFlower?"


    "Mhm, mhm! No blood relation with Nettie, but Uncle Marty is Uncle." Nettie yanked at Primrose''s sleeve. "And, he tells Nettie the best stories."


    "Really? All I''ve heard him say so far are things that are quite hard to understand."


    "Oh, Uncle Marty does that. You will understand him soon, just like Nettie does."


    Primrose doubted it, but she followed Nettie back into the room. Ever since she earned her flowers, her purpose anywhere had always seemed to be clear, even from her very first assignment. Primrose had always wondered if Scarlette had eventually found out it was Primrose who had begged the previous Madam to assign her to find the woman who had bought Scarlette''s first night.


    A woman who could no longer buy anything.

 Ch 41: Martial Arena

    So as I understand this Festival celebration: we burn an indulgent amount of elderwood while eating and drinking ourselves silly for three days and three nights, watching our younger hot-headed Scholars beat each other to a pulp.


    This is supposed to celebrate the Hero''s Ascent?


    I confess: I rarely understand tradition. That is why I study dragons.


    Yuya


    P.S. It is not lost on me that you arranged for me to sit beside ZuanBing when all grudges are supposed to be forgiven. Academic disputes are not grudges. I am perfectly happy to agree with ZuanBing when they choose to be right.


    ¡ª Note from Head Scholar Yuya to Head Scholar Panmoru, Fallen Star Pavilion


    <hr>


    Martyker looked up with a bushy smile as Primrose followed Nettie back into the room. He was leaning forward at the balcony, viewing the Arena down below. "You are early if you mean to be late!"


    The girl bolted to the balcony next to him, but was too short to look completely over the guardrail. She reached up and tried to lift herself, but Primrose strode forward and picked Nettie up to stop her from potentially falling over the railing. With the girl secure in her arms, Primrose hooked a nearby stool closer with her leg and sat down with Nettie on her lap. The added height provided just enough boost for the girl to get a clear view into the Arena.


    "Has Nettie missed something?" The girl asked Martyker.


    "No, no, unless you wanted to hear the announcing Priestess address the crowd and explain the rules!"


    Primrose tapped Nettie''s shoulder, then whispered into her ear. "Everyone here is a distinguished guest, but it''s better if you don''t use your name for now. We don''t know who might be listening."


    Nettie frowned. "But names have a ¡ª"


    "I know, I know," Primrose changed her smile into a look of worry for the girl. "And you have such a wonderful name. But, it would be easier to keep you safe if those who mean you harm don''t know who you are, understand?"


    After a moment, the girl nodded. "Net¡ª understands. Understood," she corrected herself, then turned her attention back to the Arena and pointed. "Is that the Sage''s Mirror?"


    Primrose looked down to see the Whale of ZhiXia standing with a Priestess in the Arena''s center near a large mirror. Gleaming silver and slightly taller than the Whale himself, the Sage''s Mirror floated in the air, the golden runes etched into it running with a stream of aura. Despite being a mirror, the center of the Mirror reflected nothing but dark mists the color of black and green.


    "It''s beautiful." Nettie whispered, her eyes transfixed. After a moment, her eyebrows raised and she nodded to herself, muttering under her breath before she turned around to tug on Primrose''s sleeve. "The Great Sage was a genius!"


    For the life of her, Primrose could see nothing particularly intriguing beyond the Mirror''s surface. But the Mirror was a good example of appearances being deceiving. If one did not know of the Mirror''s extraordinary ability to summon echoes of past warriors, it would look exactly like any other mirror that an alchemist had tinkered with to dazzle without substance. Growing up in ZhiXia City, Primrose had seen many alchemists make the journey to study the Sage''s Mirror. She also recalled seeing their defeated faces as they left.


    But she had to calm down the current Prodigy as she began excitedly babbling on about the exact layering of runes over the Mirror before people nearby guessed the identity of the little Oasian girl with a working knowledge of alchemy. Primrose placed a finger against Nettie''s nose.


    "Shhh," she winked at Nettie. "Think about how you''ll explain this to me later, as simply as possible. How about a challenge; you have three days to think of how you can explain it to me in one sentence, do you think you could do that?"


    "One sentence? But it''s ¡ª" The girl saw Primrose''s look and fell silent, before nodding her head. "Okay. Okay. Understood. Love challenges."


    They watched the first competitor come onto the stage. She recognized him; the ringleader of the orphans Priestess Cerelia and Molam had brought from JiangXi to Sanctuary. She remembered the older boy being wary around Molam the entire journey here.


    "Oh, that''s rare," Martyker observed, stroking his beard. "For someone of his age to have gained the qualifications to participate, he must have worked very hard." The crowd in the Arena cheered heartily, clearly eager to see the boy perform. "Do you know him?"


    "We sat with him on the way back from JiangXi!" Nettie informed Martyker. "His name was Bryce!"


    "I see, I see," said Martyker. "I look forward to his match."


    They watched as the boy approached the Whale and the Priestess responsible for announcing the event.


    ***


    Ji looked down at the boy in front of him, straining to stand to his full height. It had been decades since someone this young had qualified for the Arena. By Ji''s reckoning, the boy couldn''t have seen more than sixteen Sorrows.


    The boy, who Priestess Kanteru had identified as Bryce, returned his gaze and Ji saw no hint of fear in his eyes. His brown hair, recently trimmed, framed sharp features, and piercing green eyes hid intelligent determination despite the situation he found himself in. Trepidation, yes. But no fear. Despite his age, his stance spoke of a healthy respect for the person he stood in front of, reflecting a deep understanding of the world and the people in it.


    "We will begin when Priestess Kanteru gives us the signal," Ji began, gesturing at the Priestess. "I am the officiant of the Arena''s matches, but as the Mirror is intended to provide an absolutely fair fight, my duty is merely to protect you from any lethal blows and keep the consequences of your match contained away from the audience. That means you will be fighting within my Domain. Do you understand?"


    Bryce nodded.


    "When you are ready, touch the Mirror with aura," Ji instructed. "There is no need to strike it. When the Mirror receives just a bit of your aura, it will gain a memory imprint of you and also summon a memory ¡ª an echo ¡ª for you to fight. If you have any second thoughts about the Mirror summoning your memory in the future, there is no shame in walking away right now."


    The boy nodded again, and Ji approved of his determination. Over the years, Ji found that the Arena''s first participants tended to fall into three kinds: those who were unhappy they were first to perform, those who thought they would be the one to set the crowd''s expectations, and those who didn''t even seem to notice the crowd''s existence. Bryce belonged firmly in the last category.


    "Finally, you must understand that whichever echo the Mirror summons is fully intended to be your equal, but excelling in an area of combat that would give you difficulty. That means a good half of these matches end in the participant''s loss and it is normal for injuries to be sustained. We have several Priestesses at the Arena who specialize in healing and I will intervene if anything looks too dangerous, so feel free to demonstrate your martial prowess and fight with your life on the line. There is no shame in losing; only if you leave having learned nothing. Do you understand?"


    Another curt nod. Taciturn and quick on the uptake. Ji could appreciate that.


    "Do you have any questions?"


    "No," came the reply. A strong and clear voice for his age. Though most would consider it prideful confidence, Ji thought it to be willful determination. He could see in Bryce''s eyes.


    Ji nodded. "Very well, then. Seeing as you carry no weapon, I assume you will fight barehanded. I sincerely hope you do your best and come away with a better understanding of your abilities." He stepped to the side, gesturing towards the Priestess.


    Priestess Kanteru stepped forward, revealing a weathered brown face with short, graying black hair as she lowered her hood. "The Festival begins when Sanctuary''s bonfire is lit. At that time, I will officially announce the start of the Martial Arena." Her rich voice, deeper than one would expect from a woman, resonated from deep within her chest. "I will let you know when, then you may touch the Mirror when you are ready."


    Bryce nodded.


    The Priestess smiled, then turned with them to look towards Sanctuary in the distance.


    ***


    Sanctuary


    Molam followed Priestess Komura and Priestess Shantayla through a side door before they walked straight to the front of Sanctuary. This was where Molam told the Priestesses to ensure no one but him approached the woodpile. As the two walked off to carry out his request, Molam made his way towards the bonfire itself.


    The World Tree''s elderwood, silver-gray bark with black stripes running down its vertical edges, had been stacked in neat high rows for the Festival''s bonfire. A crowd had already formed outside Sanctuary''s stone pillars, buzzing with excitement for the Festival to begin. They were only held back from entering the premises by a line of Priestesses. Molam approved; he didn''t want anyone nearby when he placed the egg within.


    As he approached, Molam squinted to see through the darkness of night. Priestess Komura had told him to look for an alcove in the woodpile and that would be where he could start the fire, but everything was hidden in shadows.


    Molam snapped his fingers and the flame shot out from his armguard, lighting the torch.


    And what, pray, is that?


    "A flametool. I had to make do when your feather''s aura ran out."


    But now that I am with you, you should have just asked me. A tiny spark like that, I could have ¡ª


    "Oh my, are you worried about being replaced?" Molam whispered, his eyes searching for the alcove. Nothing on the outside; but that made sense. He supposed it would need to be within the wood stacks.


    Nonsense. Only I am the light that guides the way. Why, back during the Endless Night, when I accompanied¡ª


    "Hush, I''m looking for where to place your egg." He held the torch high and scanned the woodpile as he approached.


    The flammable pile loomed in the night. Molam felt a lump form in his throat; he tried to swallow it down but choked instead. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and each beat of his heart became progressively louder, until soon all he could hear was his heartbeat pounding in his ears. The shadows danced beyond the flickering embers of his torch and fear gripped him, rooting him in place. His knees felt locked and his feet seemed to be weighed down in their boots as he forced shallow breaths through flared nostrils, staring wildly about, looking for the gaze he was absolutely certain was there. The look, the look was coming from ¡ªSupport the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    Molam?


    Not one look. Many. Many gazes. All the gazes of the villagers who had watched. The thumping in his ears roared painfully and within it, Molam could hear the crackling of the bonfire. They had watched silently, watched as he was dragged from his parents'' abandoned house, the two adults had ¡ª


    Molam''s hand fumbled against the straps of his armguard, ripping it off his arm. In that moment, the constricting thing reminded him of an adult''s hands, grasping tightly and dragging him towards the towering pile of bonfire wood. He raised it and prepared to dash it to the ground when the feather inside seared his fingers, causing him to almost drop it.


    Boy, are you fine?


    The spirit''s voice split through his cluttered thoughts and Molam stumbled through the fog. He panted, then became alarmed as the wood underneath his hand shifted from his weight. When had he placed his hand there?


    Molam looked around, exhaling through his mouth now as he sucked in air. He was alone. There was no one here. He wasn''t being dragged. The gazes were there, yes, but the people here were Priestesses, and they had no reason to ¡ª


    I see your shadows still follow. We should ask for a Priestess to do this, then. Perhaps it is too cruel to expect you to ¡ª


    "I will manage." Molam glared at the shadows as he forced himself to breathe slowly, fighting the urge to suck in air. His heart slowed, and the pounding in his ears faded away with each thump. Only when the shadows moving at the edge of his vision stopped did Molam resume his way forward.


    Are you certain?


    "I said ¡ª" Molam gritted his teeth, paused, then bit down the rest. Realizing tears ran down his cheeks, he wiped them away with the sleeve of his shirt before swallowing dryly, then whispered, "Let me do this. It''s something I decided."


    A moment later, he found it. A small alcove had been shaped into the stacked wood, perfect for Molam to place the torch and the egg. No one was nearby and the Priestesses stood far away at the edges. No one would see him place the egg.


    But he needed to be sure. Molam scanned around him. "Is anyone else here?"


    No.


    "I¡­ had the feeling of being watched."


    By me?


    "No. It was¡­ different." Molam couldn''t quite explain why his heartbeat had jumped. Was it purely because of the woodpile? He looked up at the stack of elderwood kindling. No. The one that haunted his memories had been smaller than this, even if it towered in his memories.


    There are many Priestesses in the surroundings, if that is what you mean. But they are only watching the general area to ensure no one enters. I assure you ¡ª not even a Titled One can fully hide their presence from me. You can proceed.


    He knelt down and shifted his pack forward, reaching in for the egg. It pulsed a warm red in his hands as he placed it deep into the alcove, then pushed the torch in right after. The flames licked eagerly at the new kindling, and soon the fire spread. Molam took several steps back, ensuring the flames had completely overtaken the alcove before he retreated to a safe distance.


    It has begun. The feather in his armguard pulsed. Stay safe during the Festival. My attention will be focused elsewhere for some time and I will not be able to respond to help you, but I understand your companions are here as well.


    "What?" Molam, distracted from the shadows dancing in his vision, glared at them until they only flickered from the bonfire''s light. "What will you be doing?"


    The Oracle needs to rest and I will maintain the Seal''s focal point in her stead. Surely you know how important it is to maintain the leylines, having grown up under RainBringer''s wing.


    "Oh." The Oracle needed to rest? Molam didn''t know that. It never occurred to him that the Oracle would ever need to rest; that she was anything close to being a normal human. "Well then, at least I won''t need to listen to you prattling about while I''m trying to enjoy the Festival."


    Your continued irreverence is as endearing as ever, the spirit managed a dry tone in his head. But as your friend, this feather will heal you anytime you need it and protect you from any hostile Domains. However, remember it has its limits.


    Molam blinked. "I didn''t think you''d care enough to lend me more of your aura."


    You came back down for me, after all.


    "I''ll try to not drink so much I''ll need healing," Molam responded as he stared into the bonfire. The flames had spread throughout the elderwood, but no one would need to add more kindling; elderwood was said to burn slowly, yet brightly. "But since we''re on the topic, this is Sanctuary. Even if the Oracle is resting, Master Ji is here; and the Submerged Leviathan, too. No one would dare act out."


    If I recall, that one is fickle and does not consider ZhiXia City to be in her Domain. The spirit flooded him with a sense of annoyed derision. If I trusted her to act to save you, I would not have bothered to imbue this feather with aura. A moment later, it added, Stay safe, Molam. I would like to see you after my rebirth.


    "I always try. You know that." Molam said dryly, then softened his tone as well. "I''ll see you when you wake up then. I''m sure I need a backup candle lighter."


    Hmph.


    When the spirit''s presence receded from his mind, Molam retreated from the burning wood. The flames had spread throughout the bonfire and now multiple stacks were burning in tandem, the heat pressing against his face. Molam lingered a moment longer to ensure the shadows weren''t just from his mind before returning to Priestess Komura and Priestess Shantayla.


    "I see the bonfire is lit." Priestess Komura held out Molam''s cloak. "Did you do what you needed to do?"


    "Yes." Molam wrapped the cloak around his shoulders. "You can tell the Oracle it is done."


    "Winter''s Sorrow may be over, but the nights are still chilly. You should take care to not get a cold." The aging Priestess reached forward and buttoned up the cloak around Molam''s neck. Molam held down his impatience while Priestess Komura fussed at his clothes, smoothing out the folds on his shoulder. "What will you do now? You are free to join us and listen to the Storytelling. Priestess Shantayla here," she indicated to her side, "will be here to memorize it."


    "No thank you." Molam gave Priestess Shantayla a look of understanding, "Let Priestess Komura tell the same stories to you every evening before bedtime and you''ll have it committed to memory just like me." He stood patiently while Priestess Komura''s fingers fumbled with the button on his cloak. "I think I''ll go see the rest of the Festival. I have missed some good food."


    The elder Priestess nodded, pressing a handful of coins to him. "Stay warm then, and be careful to count your change." She narrowed her eyes at him. "And, I expect to have tea with you again before the end of the Festival."


    "I always count my change," Molam laughed. "And of course, Priestess Komura. We will have tea again."


    Priestess Komura gave him one last appraising look before she nodded, then turned to signal to the line of Priestesses at the edges. As one, they walked back from the perimeter keeping the crowd out and the people began flowing in. Molam retreated back to Sanctuary, watching as people filled up the area, making a ring around the bonfire.


    The trickle of festival-goers swiftly became a tide as people pushed forward, eager to get a good position around the bonfire. The bonfire would be where people celebrated the Sun, the culmination of the Companions'' journey and their fervent wish to end the Endless Night. Many thought of this event as the time to make their own wishes, some having brought their own prayer mats to kneel on. Perhaps if one was lucky, the Gods would hear their prayer and answer.


    Molam certainly believed it. God Yven had heard his.


    ***


    Martial Arena


    The red-orange glow of the bonfire started low then grew in stature, becoming visible even against the bright day.


    "It''s lit." Primrose pointed for Nettie.


    "It''s lit!" Nettie squirmed on Primrose''s lap attempting to stand up, but Primrose held her fast.


    "If you stand up, you might fall into the Arena," she warned. "We can just watch from here."


    "The pretty flower lady is right, you know, Nettie." Martyker ruffled Nettie''s hair lightly. "Just watch it from here. It''s a nice view!"


    "Her name is Primrose," Nettie reminded the man sternly. "Names have a purpose!"


    Down at the stage, the Priestess standing next to Master Ji and Bryce turned to the crowd. She raised her arms, shaking aside her white sleeves and holding her hands open.


    "The Festival of the Hero is a celebration of the Companions and their journey!" Her amplified voice, louder and deeper than Primrose would have believed, echoed throughout the Arena. "Before the Companions asked the Gods to create the Sun, we suffered the Eternal Night! A time when our people were born, lived, and died in darkness!"


    "This," her voice dropped in tone but not in intensity, "was a time when demons roamed the land. When our ancestors were hunted for sport and mercilessly slaughtered like cattle. When a painless death was a blessing everyone craved, yet few ever received. And yet!" Her voice rose again, covering the crowd, "It was during this time that the Companions made a pact! That they would no longer suffer the demons; they dared to dream! They would ask the Gods to change Creation itself!"


    "And so the Companions banded together and fought! They forced their way through the Eternal Night, beset by demons from all sides, harried at all turns from the darkness with only a lone torch lighting their way! When they finally struggled to the Stairs, they battled an endless horde, holding desperately against the tide of night, until the Gods relented and extended an invitation for an audience!"


    She raised her clenched fists high, waiting for the crowd to finish cheering. "In light of their accomplishment, the Gods agreed to grant the Companions their wish! And now, every day, we see the fruit of their labors in the sky: the Sun that brings us reprieve from the Eternal Night and Seals away the demons from our lands!"


    "We hold the Festival of the Hero to celebrate the bravery and actions of the Companions! They wished that their descendants would be capable of defending the lives of the people in case a new enemy ever arises!" The Priestess gestured to the Sage''s Mirror. "They say the Great Sage Vareon created this Mirror for that very purpose, so that future generations would always strive to be better than the ones before them."


    The Priestess let her hands fall down to her side, before she clasped them gently in front of her chest. "To that end, I now pronounce the beginning of this year''s Martial Arena, where we show the Companions what our generation is capable of! As we watch this generation show their prowess, know that we are showing the Companions: We have not forgotten!"


    Something about the Priestess'' words struck Primrose as similar to Molam''s style, making her wonder if this Priestess was the one who had taught Molam how to give speeches.


    "Our first challenger for the Sage''s Mirror may look young, but passed the preliminary test all on his own! The youngest challenger in decades, who heard that he can join Sanctuary''s ranks as a Messenger if he wins! Please raise your voices for our first contestant: Bryce!"


    The crowd roared and clapped with approval. The deafening sound washed over Primrose as she watched the Priestess signal to Bryce before she walked off the stage. Master Ji gestured at the boy to come forward and Primrose felt the aura in the air shift; a blue tint coalesced into a wall around the stage in her Sight.


    Bryce walked up to the Sage''s Mirror. He didn''t immediately place his hand on it, and seemed to Primrose as though he was entranced by the swirling black and green mists inside the Mirror. Then, as though he had woken up, he shook his hands before reaching forward to touch the Mirror.


    The mists billowed away from the area he touched, repelled by an expanding ring of orange aura. Bryce backed away from the Mirror as the spiraling light covered the Mirror''s surface and coalesced into a figure walking out of the depths.


    Audible gasps could be heard from the crowd. Primrose couldn''t blame them; she imagined this was the first time for some attendees to see the Sage''s Mirror actually summon an echo. The orange aura surrounding the echo condensed into a ghostly visage of the person it mimicked: a man, half a head taller than Bryce, wearing clothes in a style unfamiliar to Primrose. If it wasn''t somewhat transparent and orange, most onlookers could be forgiven for thinking that a real person had just walked out of the Mirror.


    The echo faced Bryce and held out both hands. Orange aura circulated without Primrose needing to use her Sight; the aura formed a short spear and a round shield in the echo''s hands.


    "It looks like the boy summoned a Sand Spear." Martyker stroked his beard. A lump formed in Primrose''s throat at the name. "Only the upper aristocrats of Oasis wear that style now¡­ the short spear and shield armaments were phased out two centuries ago, so this must be an older fighting style¡­" Martyker leaned forward against the balcony, staring down at the stage with expectations gleaming in his eyes, "But, to summon a fully trained Sand Spear at that age. Unfurled buds are a sight to behold."


    Bryce had settled into a stance that Primrose recognized as one taught to all of the city guards in the Empire. Perhaps the boy had seen the city guards of JiangXi practice it and learned from them. Knees bent slightly, with the body rotated to the side and keeping the adversary in sight, the forward hand meant to defend or parry and another held back for a strike or support. Primrose focused her Sight. Bryce''s fierce orange aura was concentrated on his hands, an impressive feat for his age. Shurra would approve.


    "Do you think he''ll win?" Nettie asked Martyker from Primrose''s lap.


    "Hm? The boy, Bryce?"


    Nettie nodded.


    "Well, at first glance he looks like a fish picking a fight with a hawk in the air. Fighting barehanded against a weapon and shield is tough unless there''s a massive difference in strength or skill. In this particular case, it''s a trained Sand Spear, so the skill and strength is not one to be doubted." Martyker shrugged as they watched the stage. Master Ji hadn''t moved from his place near the Mirror, but the echo had begun circling Bryce. It held up its shield between the two of them, chambering the spear behind it with the tip pointed straight at Bryce. Bryce did not move from his position, pivoting his stance so he always faced the shielded echo. "Not to mention, the spear gives the echo far more reach than pure arms and fists."


    Martyker added, "Then again, the Mirror always summons a fair fight. If the Mirror has judged the Sand Spear to be the boy''s equal opponent, then we can reason that the boy must be capable of winning somehow."


    "Net¡ª" the girl stopped herself, then said, "That reasoning is loveable."


    "Of course. Alchemists love good reasoning just like kirins love apples."


    The standoff continued, the echo circling Bryce slowly. Sliding steps, executed smoothly and effortlessly, with the feet never crossing paths. Primrose approved; it was a technique taught to Petals at an early age, allowing one to move without lifting their feet unnecessarily off the ground. Being firmly grounded gave one a movement advantage when everything hinged on a moment''s reaction.


    Primrose wondered who would attack first. She personally wouldn''t, of course. The moment she was out in an open field like that with few obstacles against a spear-wielder, she would have chosen to escape and look for another opportunity unless she was forced to fight the battle at hand. From a purely environment and weapons standpoint, she agreed with Martyker: the boy was at a disadvantage no matter how she looked at it. And if one held the disadvantage, then the best course of action was to avoid fighting unless necessary. Which meant¡­


    The echo lunged.

 Ch 42: Echoes

    As a child, I grew up wishing my life was interesting.


    Now, in my old age, I understand that it is the boring, peaceful life that I should have craved.


    ¡ª Notes from Flangel the Wise''s journal


    <hr>


    Primrose watched the echo approach Bryce in a series of lunges that had it shifting the spear up and down, clearly intending to confuse him as to the angle from which it planned to attack. Only when the echo entered Bryce''s range did the boy seem to realize that the spear itself was the feint; the shield crashed straight into him and he retreated backwards, attempting to resettle into his stance. Primrose winced at the impact; the boy hadn''t flinched, but the shield bash must have jarred his shoulder.


    The echo gave Bryce no chance to plant his feet firmly on the ground, barreling down on the boy with the same series of movements. Primrose could admire the footwork; from this angle, she saw the echo slide its feet forward, never truly leaving the ground as it bobbed left and right, raising and lowering the spear at unpredictable intervals.


    "Why isn''t Bryce attacking?" Nettie asked, tugging on Martyker''s sash without taking her eyes off the fight. "He''s just backing off and dodging."


    "Well, he''s being checked by the echo''s fighting style," Martyker explained. "The spear gives it significant reach over the boy. Since the echo has a strong grasp of their space, it gets to decide the distance at which they fight. You could dodge or parry the spear, but then you have to overcome the shield. See," Martyker pointed as Bryce did exactly that, ducking under the spear and rushing up to the echo before the echo bashed downwards with the shield, Bryce''s fist bouncing off it. "Unless the boy has enough explosive power to get through the shield, he probably needs some other method to overcome this."


    "But the Mirror is supposed to summon a fair fight?" Nettie sounded confused.


    "It is." Martyker agreed. "And at first glance, the boy is terribly outmatched. Even without weapons, the echo is taller than him and would have a longer reach with his arms and legs regardless. I wonder why the Mirror called forth this one, but alas, the leaves fall where they will."


    Primrose focused her eyes, paying attention to the movement of Bryce''s aura. Though he hadn''t landed a single blow, only the first shield bash had probably inflicted any amount of meaningful damage. He had been careful to avoid the speartip and reinforced his body whenever he needed to defend against subsequent shield blows, a technique many warriors found difficult to master. The boy had either been trained well or was a talented natural.


    The fight continued to the crowd''s cheering, with Bryce having adopted a different stance that lowered his center of balance. He bounced from one foot to the other, rotating his body left and right as the echo lunged again.


    The spear stabbed forward and missed; the shield bore down and met Bryce''s shoulder as he reached for the echo''s leg. The echo saw the grab and leapt backwards, only to realize that Bryce gripped onto the spear''s shaft.


    Martyker whistled with approval. "Aha."


    The echo retreated half the stage''s width, leaving Bryce holding onto its short spear. Bryce rotated it in his hands, testing it for himself before gripping it in his hand in a fashion similar to the echo''s own.


    Nettie now tugged on Primrose''s sleeve. "Why did the echo give up its weapon?"


    Primrose answered without looking away from the fight. "Bryce made the echo choose between keeping its weapon or being pulled into a potential grapple. I think the echo determined ¡ª correctly ¡ª that Bryce would have the full advantage if he got his hands on its leg, and the spear would be useless at such a close range anyway. So it would rather lose the spear than be put into a position where the spear not only wouldn''t matter, but it would have to deal with Bryce directly."


    "But doesn''t Bryce have the spear now?"


    "Yes." Martyker answered this time, "But whether or not that gives him an advantage depends fully on if he can use it."


    Bryce took several sliding steps. Ungainly, forced, and unpracticed to Primrose''s eyes, but the boy swiftly decided that he wouldn''t bother with something clearly he did not know. Instead, he couched the spear in both hands and approached the echo, who stood a wary distance away with its shield held up.


    Spear met shield and bounced off, with the echo dodging Bryce''s swift follow-up low kick to its knees. Several more jabs were deflected or dodged, with Bryce approaching and the echo retreating. Another blocked spear jab found the echo spinning around on one heel to deliver a backhanded chop to Bryce''s wrist, attempting to make him drop the spear.


    "He''s inexperienced with the spear," Martyker observed as Bryce retreated, still holding the spear with his off hand while shaking the injured wrist.


    Primrose agreed with Martyker''s sentiment. Though Bryce seemed to be trying to gain leverage with the spear''s additional range, it was awkward at best when compared to the echo''s earlier precise spearmanship.


    The difference became evident when Bryce made a stab that the echo deflected sideways with its shield and lunged in with a straight jab. The boy batted the fist away but the echo''s shield arm hooked around the spear, attempting to yank it out of his grasp. Orange aura collected around his hand and Bryce pulled harder as he leaned back ¡ª the echo let go of the spear and hopped back a few steps as Bryce''s own maneuver caused him to teeter several steps backwards.


    Bryce seemed to look from the spear to the echo, then back to the spear again. He inspected it for a moment before snapping it in half over his knee. The aura spear dissipated into nothingness.


    A good move, Primrose thought. The boy acknowledged that he was not good enough with the weapon to use it, but would not risk his adversary regaining control of it.


    Across the stage, the echo did not summon a new spear as it slunk warily around the boy, changing its grip on its shield in response to Bryce taking a new stance with squared shoulders.


    Orange aura concentrated on the bottoms of Bryce''s feet; next moment, he dashed forward in an explosive lunge. The echo met his charge with its shield, but Bryce opened his hand and reached for the shield''s edge, prying the echo''s defense to the side as he rotated a knee upwards. The echo caught the knee with a downwards elbow strike, using Bryce''s attack as leverage to shove itself and the boy apart.


    Bryce took a step back before pushing forward again, aiming an aura-infused punch at the echo, who raised its shield again. Once more, Bryce opened his hand and reached for the shield''s edge, but this time the echo stepped forward into it, throwing an uppercut from behind the shield. Primrose winced as the blow struck Bryce''s solar plexus and saw him double over in pain; from his angle, he couldn''t have seen the blow coming before it was too late.


    The echo gave Bryce no time to suck in air, pirouetting on one leg to strike at Bryce''s head with the edge of its shield.


    "It''s over," said Martyker. The shield came to a halt as the audience gasped. Master Ji stood behind the echo, one hand holding firmly onto the echo''s shield arm as the other pulled Bryce away by the cuff of his shirt. With a look from the Whale of ZhiXia, the echo nodded and bowed to the crowd, then dissipated into nothingness.


    The announcing Priestess'' voice echoed loudly throughout the Arena. "And with that, we have a wonderful conclusion to the first match of the Festival! Please encourage Bryce by showing that he should feel no shame in his loss! I daresay if the younger generation can all fight like he did, the Companions would have nothing to worry about!"


    Two more Priestesses ran to the stage and began to inspect Bryce, who seemed to be trying to push them away, but was then held in place by Master Ji. Green aura flowed from one of the Priestess'' hands.


    "But that was¡­ that was so sudden." Nettie''s tone was full of confusion. "Nothing happened, then everything happened¡­ and suddenly, over?"


    "That''s how fights sometimes are," Primrose answered softly. "Many times, it''s about finding the moment to deliver the killing blow. Everything else is just about making that opportunity for yourself, while preventing the enemy from doing the same to you."


    "Yes," came a voice to her right. Primrose looked up as Shurra walked over to stand next to her. "That was a good fight, for his age," Shurra spoke in her quiet voice. "But it seems the echo had a better understanding of its advantages."


    Before Primrose could open her mouth to agree and ask Shurra where she had been, Martyker interrupted. ¡°A Northerner!" he exclaimed. His voice was excited as he looked at her towering over them . "Are you from the¡­hmm¡­ can''t be the Red Seals¡­" he peered more closely, "Yellow Wolf tribe?"


    Shurra ignored the man, whispering to Primrose, "I was held back by Mursa Shang. He is asking about Molam."


    Primrose shook her head. "What does the Mursa want? Molam already fulfilled the Dao''s bargain."Stolen novel; please report.


    "The mursashu caravan has been full of talk about how they can remove DuskWing''s curse and return to Mur." The Northern Warrior''s lips pressed into a grim line. "If the Mursa wants to see Molam at this point, it must be because they want the Dao involved."


    Primrose could only shrug. "Well, I don''t know where Molam currently is. Perhaps the Mursa should ask Sanctuary."


    A young Priestess walked up to Shurra, egged on by her mentor. The Priestess looked up at Shurra''s large frame and spoke in a quivering voice. "I apologize for interrupting, but we have been looking for you, as you are expected to participate soon after this next one." The Priestess swallowed when Shurra turned to look at her, but did not back down. "Please. Go down to the waiting area and prepare with your weapon of choice."


    Shurra and Primrose exchanged a look, then Shurra nodded to the young Priestess, who seemed relieved as she scurried back to her mentor.


    "It''s a good thing you''re safe," Shurra murmured to Primrose. "The Dao has started a fight with the Empire and we cannot hope to continue without good leadership. Not a position I would ever want."


    Primrose nodded to Shurra but did not reply lest she gave away her lack of certainty. It seemed that Shurra understood the meaning when she had admitted to not knowing where Molam currently was.


    "Snow falls, but only because it seeks to become water," Martyker waved at Shurra as she left. "I look forward to seeing your fight!"


    Watching Shurra leave, Primrose felt a sinking feeling of dread in her heart as the weight of Shurra''s words settled in. The Dao had initiated a fight with the Empire of the Sun. The Empire may have been currently distracted with the Bloody Prince''s slumber, but that would not last forever. Sooner or later, the Empire''s Titled Ones would act and the Dao were hopelessly unmatched. She had confidence in her ability to lead the organization from the shadows, but their actions in JiangXi and fight with the Tempest had thrust them into the light.


    Where was Molam?


    ***


    Pleasure District


    Molam had seen Festivals in other Cities, but never ZhiXia City and Sanctuary''s. After he had confirmed that the bonfire was alight, he told Priestess Komura that he would spend the Festival''s three days enjoying it and staying in the city in case anything happened to the rebirth process. Priestess Komura had agreed, but only after giving him a jade pendant carved in the symbol of Sanctuary, telling him that if he needed help at all, he simply needed to show it to any Priestess.


    And so Molam found himself walking through the western side of ZhiXia. Savory scents swirled and swelled here, summoning the senses with sizzling dishes, steaming teas, and the intoxicating scent of spirits. If Sanctuary was for the bonfire and the Martial Arena was for the fights, then the pleasure district was certainly for people to truly celebrate their surviving another Winter''s Sorrow.


    Red lanterns illuminated the night, with some people stumbling throughout the streets in drunken revelry and others toasting in the direction of the bonfire. Here and there, Molam saw miniature statuettes or artful depictions of the seven Gods, depending on which one the worshiper wished to hear their prayer for this year. The most basic form of tribute took the form of incense, and the curling smoke trails dissipated into the night sky carrying the prayers of those that lit them.


    His stomach rumbled; the days of eating simple fare in the Castle caught up to him as Molam found himself drawn to the nearest stall. The sign had two items: sweet or savory tofu, and Molam waited patiently in line while he watched more Festival goers walk by.


    While he waited, Molam heard snippets of conversations, some funny, some sobering, and even several "talks" between people who were attempting to settle a grudge. When two people got into a scuffle, the nearby residents dove in to pull them apart; to truly fight over anything on these auspicious days was said to bring a year of bad luck to the entire city. Several pairs of Priestesses wound their way towards the area, tending to the drunkards and mediating the conversation.


    "Sweet or savory?" asked the stall owner as Molam walked up.


    "Savory, please. With extra spice."


    "Got it." The owner plopped several tofu into the boiling pot of oil as Molam counted out his coin. "Do you want a sweet dessert to go after? We recently perfected our hazelnut tofu. Try it with a dab of soy sauce; the sweetness will be even more pronounced, if you can believe it."


    Molam glanced at the covered plates resting on a bed of ice. Hazelnut tofu. He hadn''t tried that before. "Fine, you''ve convinced me." He added two more coins to the owner''s open palm.


    Moments later, Molam was blowing on the freshly fried tofu in between bites as he continued walking down the street, staying close to the edge of the road to avoid unwanted collisions. Some stall owners shouted out to him, either with Festival greetings or hawking their food. Molam responded with a cheerful wave or nod to the former, and held up his tofu to the latter.


    He came across a different building. Red lanterns of various shapes and sizes decorated its four floors and balconies, and a large plaque over the front entrance read HuaLang Chamber. Several large tables had been set out in front, with various helpers offering refreshments to all that passed. Molam couldn''t help but notice that several of the women had flowers entwined in their hair. Somewhere, the filtered notes of a zither played harmoniously, the melody fading in and out of the chatter of the masses.


    Looking at the tables specifically, he noticed that two of the tables served freshly brewed tea and the third offered alcohol. Behind the tables and the attendees stood a beautiful statue of Goddess Ustl in front of several urns full of burning incense sticks. Molam felt his lips press into a grim smile; if not for the lack of horns, he would have thought it was RainBringer''s statue.


    A few residents ¡ª mostly younger adults ¡ª walked up to the attendees and asked for incense to add their prayers to the mix. Molam imagined that they asked Goddess Ustl to bless their love lives, though a few older women seemed to be praying for children.


    He walked up himself; the tofu, while delicious, had left him thirsty. One of the boys at the tea table waved to him, "Satem, leymint, or tieguanyin?"


    "Leymint, thank you." Though he was surprised at the establishment offering free tieguanyin, Molam wanted to wash the oily taste off his tongue. The boy filled a cup and handed it to him, reminding Molam to return the cup when done.


    For some reason, wetting his gullet only made Molam want more. He lined up for the sole table offering free alcohol, gazing curiously at the three women behind the tables serving the masses. Even the one with short hair had several flowers embedded in her hair and a chain of interlinked flowers around her neck.


    "And what would you like, young master?" asked the woman offering alcohol. Her curly brown hair seemed entangled with purple flowers. "We have Chamber-brewed chambanga ale, spiced mead, and pomberry wine."


    Molam pointed at the chambanga ale, and the woman poured some into a cup and offered it to him. "Happy Festival of the Hero! May the Gods bless you this year!"


    "And you as well," Molam nodded as he stepped off to the side of the street as he sipped at the ale. Its sweet, fruity fragrance easily smoothed over the lingering taste of fried tofu, and the tart finish made him pair it with the sweet tofu dessert. Molam decided the subtle aroma of hazelnut paired well with the smooth mouthfeel and gentle effervescence of the ale.


    The melody of the zither flowed throughout the air, and several people seemed to recognize the tune as they danced along. Molam listened, not truly understanding music but having a healthy appreciation for the feelings the melody evoked in him. He wished he had listened to his mentor when they had tried to teach him music, but a younger Molam hadn''t been very enthusiastic.


    Having finished the cup of ale, Molam walked back up to the tables from the sidelines and placed his finished cups in a collection tray. As he did so, a younger boy ran out of the Chamber, whispering to the woman who had offered him chambanga ale. Molam caught their glance towards him and took that as his cue to leave.


    He turned and found himself flanked by two other women wearing flowers in their hair; they were the ones tending to the tables earlier. When had they moved behind him? Moreover, how had he not heard them? Somewhere, the zither''s music had changed its tune for a different, alluring melody.


    "Young master." A singsong voice came from behind him. Molam turned again and found the woman he¡¯d seen earlier standing a few steps away. She had left her place at the table. Up close, he couldn''t recognize the purple flowers, but the way the three women wore flowers in their hair reminded him only of Primrose. "Our Madam has extended an invitation for you to join her for tea."


    A Madam. Molam looked up at the building of HuaLang Chamber again, then flickered his eyes back to the woman in front of him. "Thank you for the invitation, but I''m simply trying to enjoy the Festival. If you''ll excuse me¡­"


    A hand hooked his arm and Molam looked to see one of the women smiling at him, then a sharp pain pierced his neck from the other side. His legs went limp; Molam collapsed into their arms as the three women milled around him.


    "Too much chambanga ale, methinks. Our Chamber does brew the best!"


    "Don''t worry, don''t worry, he''s only drunk!"


    "Happy Festival of the Hero! May good fortune find you this year!"


    "We''ll give him a place to rest, don''t you worry."


    Molam tried to open his mouth but found that nothing moved. Fear and terror set in when the woman with purple flowers looked down at him and gave him a smile while she picked up his limp body.


    "Don''t worry, young master." Up close, her lips were cherry red and Molam smelled a citrusy scent in her sweet perfume. "You''re in soft hands."


    ***


    Outskirts of ZhiXia City


    Rei watched the black pixiu circle above the Slumbering Forest with its rider. What had been his name again? UnSeen Yao-ren? An anima with a Title, much like Sophisyas. But unlike Sophisyas, this one had only two bonds and revealed his inexperience fighting another Titled One during their encounter.


    "I don''t think we should be hiding from him," she whispered to Roxxa. The pixiu had been clearly looking for them during the day, and the owl hunted at night. The three of them had broken camp and relocated, hiding as much of their tracks as they could, but Rei had not escaped from Jett''s paperwork to play a waiting game. "There''s three of us. We could easily deal with the upstart."


    Roxxa shook her head. "It runs the risk of alerting ZhiXia and in turn, the Whale. We are better off letting him continue his fruitless search."


    "I dislike this sort of skullduggery."


    "You merely have little patience for hunting. Now hush." Roxxa pointed at Desmi. He stood quietly in the middle of their newest makeshift camp with the tip of his harpoon buried into the ground, eyes closed in concentration. Even with the Sight, Rei wouldn''t have noticed the slow pulses as they traveled along the ground if she wasn''t looking for Desmi''s aura.


    "Kymja''s made contact." Desmi announced, eyes still closed. His thick brows furrowed. Rei imagined the connection between him and Kymja to be extremely faint if they didn''t want the Whale of ZhiXia to find out. "She''s been shadowing the Prodigy for some time now, but the Prodigy is relatively well-protected."


    Roxxa leaned forward. Even sitting on the log, her head towered above Rei, who was standing. Though Rei did not get along with the Northerner, she acknowledged Roxxa''s ability to make good judgments. Ruskru must have shared her opinion if he¡¯d made Roxxa the leader of their group.


    "Does Kymja have an opening to take the Prodigy?"


    Desmi closed his eyes. To Rei''s Sight, the man''s yellow aura traveled through his harpoon to dissipate into the ground, pulsing towards ZhiXia City. When it pulsed back, he opened his eyes.


    "Not without a fight with the Whale."

 Ch 43: Madam

    I heard a song while traveling in ZhiXia City. The voice was beautiful and in my trance, I almost forgot to write down the lyrics. The following is as close as I can remember:


    Hush, my dear, in slumber''s embrace,


    I''ll weave a lullaby''s gentle grace.


    Amidst the meadow''s tranquil space,


    Blossoms bloom with serene grace.


    Moonlight dances, lending its light,


    As they sway in the quiet of night.


    Their roots entwine, firm and long,


    Seeking the earth, where they belong.


    Just as they thrive, in dreams so deep,


    Rest now, young Petal, in peaceful sleep.


    Close your eyes, my precious delight,


    In this enchanted Chamber of the night.


    I would like to hear that voice sing again.


    ¡ª Excerpt from Lost Winds, by an unnamed traveler


    <hr>


    HuaLang Chamber


    Molam''s body refused to respond. The pain in his neck amplified sharply whenever he tried to move anything below it. After trying different limbs and movements, he decided it made no sense to struggle. He doubted he could overcome the three women even if he somehow regained control over his body. Instead, he resolved to simply watch as the women carried him into HuaLang Chamber.


    The first floor of the Chamber assaulted his ears the moment they entered. Raucous laughter, merry cheer, and the sound of clinking cups and tableware almost overwhelmed him. He could smell an incredible mixture of savory foods, floral tea, and intoxicating spirits. Though his vision was more or less fixed at an angle upwards, what he could see included a dizzying sight of tables, full of the aforementioned extravagant foods and alcohol. The place was packed from top to bottom and people wore their best clothes for the first night of the Festival. Not one person noticed that three women had just carried a limp body inside.


    The second floor, more quiet, had multiple doors closed in the halls. Molam couldn''t see anything from the angle of his head, but he smelled various types of incense as he passed different rooms ¡ª warm, woody sandalwood, fresh, floral jasmine, and others he couldn''t quite identify. Here, the women stopped momentarily to rearrange his body over two of their shoulders, with the first woman taking a break.


    On the next floor, Molam smelled a different scent ¡ª oils and a low musk. Moments later, he decided it was the result of lovemaking. Molam had seen the first two floors and began to doubt whether HuaLang Chamber was actually what he had thought it was. So they were still taking him to see their Madam. At the angle they carried his body, he could only see the wooden floor on which they crossed, but he could hear the muffled sounds of pleasure as they passed by various rooms.


    The women carried him up to the fourth floor and it seemed to Molam''s ears as though all the other sounds had faded. Here, the slow notes of a zither danced in the air, thrumming with a vibrant sense of life before being replaced by another. Molam couldn''t tell if the player was practicing their strumming technique or playing an actual melody, but as the women carrying him continued their hurried pace he realized they were getting closer.


    Entering what seemed to be a different structure, the women stopped. Based on the sound and echo, Molam could only guess this was where the zither was coming from.


    "Madam Scarlette," the three women greeted in unison.


    A note danced in the air. A fourth voice spoke, musical and steady. "Is that how we bring in guests?"


    "This young master seemed¡­ unaffected by Flo''s voice. A needle was necessary before he escalated the situation."


    The zither''s last note stilled into nothingness.


    "Make our guest comfortable."


    A chair was pulled up and Molam felt himself flipped over, soft hands holding onto his head so it did not flop around. He found himself face to face with a standing woman, a red veil covering the upper half of her face, exposing only her lips. Silver flowers decorated a waterfall of straight black hair arranged neatly down the left side of her red silk festival clothes, wrapped tightly around her body. The women that had taken him ¡ª wait, kidnapped him ¡ª stood to the side with their heads bowed, colorful flowers adorning their hair.


    "I apologize for such a forceful meeting. My Flowers could do better to remember that the thorny path is a last resort when even rocks can be worn down by gentle water." The veiled woman he assumed to be Madam Scarlette tilted her head. "I wanted to meet the one marked by the Oracle. If you are open to sharing a cup of tea with me after we restore your physical functions, blink twice."


    Molam did so without hesitation.


    "A quick response." The Madam gestured and one of the women, the one with auburn hair, walked over to him. "I''d be disappointed if you hadn''t understood yet, but if you mean to fight afterwards, you''d only make it difficult for yourself."


    The auburn-haired woman bent near his ear and whispered, "Sorry about that," pulling the needle out of his neck. Molam grunted; it stung, radiating heat in the area. The feather in his arm guard heated up and the pain receded.


    The woman turned back to him with a cloth smelling of alcohol. "We will need to ensure the wound does not fester," she told him while peering at his neck, "or it will¡­ wait. The wound?"


    "I''ll manage," Molam looked away from the woman''s confused face to Madam Scarlette. "May I stand up and stretch? Without¡­ being attacked. I don''t fancy my odds at all."


    "Well, that answers the question about his aura." She gestured her approval and Molam stood up carefully, ensuring he didn''t make any movements that would get him stabbed again. He glanced downwards as he twisted and wiggled parts of his body, mentally checking to see if everything worked. Then he stretched his arms and legs, leaning into the pulled muscles before he sat down again. "Now then. I believe originally, you invited me for tea."


    Madam Scarlette laughed, a tinkling laughter she hid behind a hand. "High quality leaves, a pot, and several cups," she commanded, and the others bowed off. She picked up a chair and set it down opposite Molam before arranging herself neatly in the seat.


    "Seizing the initiative no matter the circumstances." Her musical voice carried a tone of approval as she nodded slowly. Molam didn''t know where to look ¡ª she seemed to be looking at him from behind the veil, but the veil''s uniform red color made it impossible for him to see her eyes. "A skill I wish my Petals would learn themselves. Most cannot even recognize it. But here I am, playing into your hand and offering you tea."


    "I have no idea what you are talking about," Molam held out his hands in a disarming gesture. "I''ve done nothing but ask for what you already offered."


    "I see Primrose taught you certain stretches."


    The Madam''s impassiveness to his statement clued Molam directly into the type of person he was speaking to. Like Primrose, but something about her seemed¡­ elegantly deadlier.


    "She delighted herself by being a pain about it," Molam confirmed dryly. Primrose had caught Molam complaining about how reading through all of JiangXi''s recovered paperwork was a pain for his back and brought it upon herself to push him through a series of stretches each morning and evening. "And here I thought she was from Teljumaya." Molam stretched his legs, rotating his ankles. "Yet I see much of her influence comes from your establishment."


    The Madam didn''t speak for some moment, contemplating Molam with her chin resting on one hand. He wondered if she would answer his unasked question, but then her lips curved into a cold smile. "A woman''s past is a dangerously private thing to ask for."


    "You wound me. I''ve asked for no such thing." Molam raised his eyebrows as the other women returned, bringing with them the materials to make tea. One brought out a table and neatly arranged a red tablecloth over it as the other two set out the tea set. Molam noticed they did it to the side, to avoid getting in between his conversation with their Madam.


    "Of course, of course." Madam Scarlette stood up, gesturing to the other women. They carried the table over, setting it down right in front of Molam as the Madam walked over to the side. She set out a teacup for him and poured fresh hot tea into it with practiced ease before pouring another cup for herself. "Plausible deniability is such a wondrous shield. An unwitting listener could mistake your blithe responses for simple inability to maintain a conversation. And you toe the line well with innocent rudeness ¡ª in a way that suits where you want the conversation to go, that is."


    Molam said nothing, his thoughts racing but unorganized. Who was this Madam Scarlette? What was she after? It''s clear Primrose was somehow connected to these flower-wearing women, but they had forcibly brought him here and he still had no idea what they wanted.


    Perhaps most importantly: how dangerous was his situation?


    "I take your silence as surprise." Madam Scarlette sat down; one of the women had pulled up a chair for her. "Or would you like to correct me?"


    Molam sipped at his tea in response. Floral notes flooded his senses, followed by a hint of nuts and honey. Tieguanyin. Expensive. But he didn''t like where she wanted to bring the conversation, so he responded with, "Are you even the type that appreciates being corrected?"


    Her smile widened. "Leave us," she turned to the attending women. "And prepare more tea. Make sure it''s hot in case this is a long conversation." The women bowed, then backed out of the room.


    When the door closed behind them, the Madam refilled his cup to the brim, before pinching some plum powder and sprinkling it over her own. "Do you like the tea?"


    Molam looked down at his cup, feeling his muscles tense up as his thoughts raced. The question seemed innocent ¡ª far too innocent. Had it been poisoned? It couldn''t be, she had drank from the same pot. Had it been smeared on his cup? No¡­ it would make no sense to poison him after returning him his mobility. His eyes flickered up to the woman''s veiled face.


    "Your heart is beating quite fast; is this such a hard question?" She sipped from her own cup, "Don''t worry, it''s not poisoned, if that''s what you''re wondering. It would be such a waste of good tea leaves, and tieguanyin is so hard to come by."


    Molam wished he could still his beating heart from will alone. "It is good tea, but if this is an elaborate scam, I must warn you that I cannot afford to pay for tieguanyin." He brought the cup to his lips again, feigning light sips. "Your people should have simply taken my coin pouch if that''s what you''re after, but there isn''t much left. I don''t even have enough coins on me for snacks at the Festival."


    She laughed again, covering her mouth with two fingers. "I see you''re quite good at playing this game. As much as I would like to play with you, I do suspect you''re also not generous with your time. If you could drop the pretenses with me, perhaps we could have a better conversation instead of a dance, yes?"


    Molam raised his brow. "I''m a poor dancer."


    "Is that so?" She set down her cup and touched the tips of her fingers together as she leaned forward slightly. "Then allow me to show some sincerity. I believe I have yet to formally introduce myself. My name is Scarlette, and I have the honor of being the Madam Proprietress of HuaLang Chamber." Her hands pushed together, flexing and stretching her fingers. "I apologize for the way this meeting was set up, but I am certain you will find it in yourself to forgive a woman who wants to meet a man." Her voice dropped into an enchanting tone when she added, "Especially when he is the current leader of the Dao and one marked by the Oracle."This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    She seemed to wait for his response. Molam glanced at the silver flowers in her hair ¡ª if these people, somehow related to Primrose, wanted to harm him, they would have. Well, they did shove a needle in his neck. Besides that, it seemed that Madam Scarlette already knew much about him.


    "You know, it took some time for Primrose to get to the point when I first met her," he spoke in measured, controlled tones. "What were you hoping to accomplish with this meeting?"


    "I simply wanted to verify some concerning things." She smiled. "You see, my role as Madam of HuaLang Chamber has various duties. One of those includes ensuring that all of my Flowers are prepared for the situations they find themselves in, and that includes verifying the people they will be working with can be trusted."


    "Flowers?" That was the second time he heard her use the word that way.


    "The people of HuaLang Chamber," she clarified.


    "And Primrose is¡ª"


    "A Flower of HuaLang Chamber." She laid a hand over her teacup, a delicate finger tracing its rim. "One of my cherished Flower sisters."


    "You realize Primrose has the Sight, yes? She can See if I ever lie to her. I don''t think trust is ever ¡ª"


    "Oh I have no doubt that you can be trusted in many things, young master Molam. And that is a wonderful thing, having earned Primrose''s trust. You see, one of my other roles is determining whether those who hold positions of power have desirable character traits and philosophical outlooks guiding them, ensuring we don''t see a situation like Exabell did in the past. Then when ¡ª or if ¡ª I think a person isn''t fit for their position, we do a little bit of¡­ pruning."


    Molam heard the threat. "And? If Primrose trusts me, why am I here?"


    "Primrose trusts you, yes." She smiled without warmth; her finger''s movement stopped its circling, tapping once on the rim. "But unfortunately in the case of the Dao''s leadership, the group has a clear goal in mind: to upset the Empire and kill the Bloody Prince. And in that aspect, I don''t think it''s a question of character¡­ but ability."


    The drastic chill in her tone built upon her implied threat; the hot tea felt as though it froze in his mouth, causing Molam to choke. Madam Scarlette offered him a red handkerchief. Molam hesitated, looking from her to the offered item, then accepted it and held the handkerchief to his mouth as he coughed.


    "Are you anxious?" she asked in a warm and gentle tone. "It appears you have your aura again, so you pass on that front."


    Instead, he cleared his throat. "So. Earlier you mentioned a question about my aura. And now you''re talking about ability." He put an intentional hardness into his tone. "What do you want?"


    "Only what you are willing to give," she smiled, then added, "I heard you didn''t have your aura for some time. I assume the Oracle helped you recover?"


    Hesitation. To lie? At the very least, she had made an assumption that benefited him, but what to do with it? Could this woman See lies? The veil covered her eyes, but Molam knew too little about how the Sight worked to understand whether it was blocked by something as simple as cloth. He would need to proceed as though she could.


    "The Oracle has a vested interest in seeing me succeed." Not an answer, merely a truth. One that reminded her who he was, but he quickly moved the conversation away from such a dangerous topic. "I''m in a festive mood, so I''m happy to help with one more thing to make it a nice trio of favors."


    "A trio? And when have you helped me twice?"


    "Drinking tea with you, and just now satisfying your curiosity." Molam held up two fingers, grateful she hadn''t seemed to notice him shift the topic. But to be sure, he added, "So what else can I help you with today?"


    Madam Scarlette leaned back in her seat, chuckling behind a hand. When she laid her hand down, she said, "You know, patrons often pay to have the privilege to drink tea with me."


    "Do they also get brought in via needles to the neck?"


    "Some also pay handsomely for acupuncture treatments," she answered in a playfully serious tone. "Would you like to experience it yourself afterwards?"


    "No, because as someone who was ''invited'' in through¡­ needle-to-the-neck, shall we call it, staying for tea is already a tall order." Molam had no interest in giving up his point. "Do you not consider my sitting down in the first place a favor to a complete stranger?"


    The Madam''s mouth pressed into a thin line. "I understand your frustration, young master Molam, but nevertheless¡ª"


    Molam held up a third finger and leaned forward on the table, raising his eyebrows at the Madam as he looked meaningfully at his three raised fingers, waving the hand ever so slightly. When the movement seemed to stop her from speaking, he felt convinced; she could at the very least, see through that veil. Even if he couldn''t see within.


    "I will be allowed to leave, eventually, I hope?" He pressed.


    She leaned forward as well, matching his movements. "And what makes you think that?" The whispered tone and follow-up smile made Molam''s blood run cold.


    "Are you sure you want to use your third favor on getting an answer from me?" he asked.


    "Hmmm," she pushed herself back up, tapping the rim of her teacup. "Back to games, are we? Perhaps I''ll play along." She reached over and picked up the teapot, filling up their cups again. Only when she set it back down did she ask, "What if I want you to kill the Prince of the Empire?"


    "How greedy," commented Molam as he sipped his tea. Despite being freshly poured, it was beginning to cool. "I offered you a cup and you want the entire pot."


    "Would you like to specify limitations, young master?"


    "How about something I can do for you?"


    "Oh my," she held a mocking hand to her mouth, "Your issue isn''t being asked to kill but a matter of difficulty?"


    "Be reasonable." Her answer irked Molam. He had thought he could hasten the conversation with his three favors trick. Normally, when he told someone that they would only get one more thing out of him, they would focus a lot more on their last request instead, but this woman seemed to see right through it. He decided to apply some pressure. "While I''m still in the mood to grant favors."


    "Then a lady shouldn''t press her luck," she smiled sweetly at him. "Since you seem hung up on it being a matter of ability, then I know something that should be absolutely fair to you."


    "...Absolutely¡­?" Molam saw the trap far too late. He had given her the perfect excuse; hadn''t fully considered what she was after. "By that, do you mean¡­"


    "Yes," she nodded. "The Sage''s Mirror is fair."


    "I believe," Molam began slowly, his mind racing, "that the Sage''s Mirror is only usable during the Festival, and the Arena only accepts combatants who register beforehand."


    "Easily resolved." Madam Scarlette waved a dismissive hand, then leaned forward with a musical note in her voice that raised the hairs on Molam''s neck. "I assume your concerns have been satisfied?"


    A sensation of compelled obedience washed over Molam, causing his lip to twitch. He contemplated refusing outright, but Madam Scarlette had proven herself unwilling to let the matter go. Moreover, if he wanted to regain control over the conversation, he needed to shift the topic again.


    "Very well then," Molam nodded. If he couldn''t refuse, then the next best thing was for him to decide how it progressed. "We will meet at the Martial Arena on the third day. I assume that gives you enough time to resolve the matter of my entry into the Arena''s event?"


    After a moment, Madam Scarlette leaned forward. A new pressure ¡ª an overwhelming sensation of scrutiny ¡ª almost caused Molam to flinch. Three breaths later, her lips curved. "I had wondered, after hearing Flo''s voice did not work on you." She leaned back in her seat and tapped the side of her cup. "I believe Primrose must have mentioned that Charm did not work on you at some point, but I did not take it to heart."


    Molam ignored her unasked question. "Then we have an agreement?"


    "Not the third day." Tap. Again, her finger tapped on the cup. "You will be scheduled to fight tomorrow instead."


    "If that is your request," Molam replied stiffly. No doubt the Madam did not want to give him any time to prepare, but Molam was merely happy to get to a resolution. Leaving the Chamber alive was his greatest concern. "Is there anything else?"


    Tap. Tap. Tap. Ting.


    The door opened, and Molam looked over to see the three women from before coming in.


    "Madam." The three women from before came in, greeting Madam Scarlette. "The additional tea you requested is ready whenever you wish for it."


    "We won''t need it. Clean up here, and help see young master Molam out."


    Madam Scarlette stood up and returned her seat to the zither as one woman took away the tea set and the other two cleaned up the table, moving it away. The first came back and gestured to Molam.


    "This way, young master."


    He glanced at the veiled woman, who strummed a finger across one of the zither¡¯s strings. Something about being brought here against his will only to be so unceremoniously dismissed did not sit well with Molam, but he thought better than to act upon it.


    "Thank you, Madam Scarlette. For the tea." He stood up stiffly and followed the woman out.


    ***


    "Enter."


    Cassia, Flora, and Leilani entered the Madam''s room. Madam Scarlette had reapplied her lipstick and was picking out clothes for her next event, where she would be presenting the musical piece she had been practicing for quite some time. Though few, each seat for Madam Scarlette''s annual Festival performance always auctioned off for an eye-watering price.


    "Flo." Madam Scarlette pointed to a pouch on the desk. "Take that to Molam and thank him for his time. The young master shouldn''t have gone far. If he''s dismissive about it, tell him the Chamber pays well."


    Flora left the room with the pouch.


    "Lei, go find out which fighters are scheduled for the Martial Arena tomorrow. Take several Flowers and see if you can bring one or two back to the Chamber, ideally ones scheduled to fight in the morning. I understand you are somewhat limited in time, so utilize as many Flowers as you need. Make sure they enjoy the Chamber so much they miss their scheduled fight, hmm?"


    Leilani bowed, then left the room as well, leaving Cassia waiting on the Madam.


    "Do you think this pairing would work?" Madam Scarlette pointed to a black shawl as she shrugged into the scarlet dress.


    Cassia gave it some thought before she answered. "That would be black on red. The two work well together, but your audience tonight is composed of important patrons from the Free Cities. Any drunkard wanting to cause a scene could accuse you of wearing the Prince''s colors."


    "A good point." The proprietress skipped her hand over the red and pulled out a silver shawl.


    "Madam, may I ask a question?" Cassia asked. She would normally not dare, but her confusion would not be denied.


    "You may."


    "You rarely ask us to prepare extra tea and emphasize ''hot.'' I had to pull multiple sisters and brothers from their tasks to hide in waiting, but in the end you let him go without killing him. Was he so dangerous you changed your mind?"


    "Dangerous? Perhaps, but not in matters of violence." Madam Scarlette settled on a scarlet dress made of thin material. "I don''t think the Oracle chose him for his fighting ability."


    Doubt clouded Cassia''s mind. "But does that not make him a liability in the fight against the Empire? Should we not replace him as you originally planned?"


    "I understand your concern, Cassia. But it is not an issue of fighting power." She turned her back to Cassia and lifted her lustrous black hair to the side, exposing where the dress lay unbuttoned on her back. Cassia stepped forward and began buttoning up the dress as the Madam continued. "Consider why everyone who contributes to HuaLang Chamber walks a different path. Some are thorny Flowers, others are fragrant Flowers. And then there are our Roots and Leaves that are not a good fit for either path, but nevertheless play an important role in everything we do here."


    "I hope it is enough," Cassia expressed her doubt without protesting.


    "We can only try. Unless one of the Companions shows up, searching for mere strength won''t solve the issue. The Frozen Saint, the Six Crowns¡­ they weren''t weak, but they certainly weren''t enough." The Madam pondered the wall of nameplates. "As Sanctuary seems to have committed the Whale of ZhiXia to the Dao, we know the Oracle does not take this lightly. I suspect she chose young master Molam for the same reason I am keeping him alive."


    Finishing up the last button, Cassia stepped back. "He must have made a good impression on you for you to say this."


    "Oh, he was quite entertaining for someone dragged into an unknown situation. He made me genuinely laugh not once, but three times!" Madam Scarlette rotated slowly in front of the mirror. "Weren''t you listening in as he performed for me? He even managed to dictate parts of the conversation while treading carefully around the threat of violence. Astounding, really. His dexterity may be sorely lacking, but the depth of his mental discipline is what I hope all of our Petals learn if they wish to become Flowers. Mmm," she seemed satisfied with the overall look. "This will do."


    "You will certainly attract the patrons tonight." Cassia murmured as the Madam rearranged her flowers in front of a mirror, then affixed two flower-shaped white jade earrings to her earlobes.


    "Thank you, Cass." The Madam led the way out of the room as Cassia followed. "Now, let us see if Mursa Shang is here to dance."


    ***


    HuaLang Chamber''s people had guided Molam out to the main street, pointing out Sanctuary for him, and then the Martial Arena in case he did not know. He parted ways with them hastily, unwilling to engage with their social niceties.


    No sooner had Molam begun to feel lost in the Festival''s crowd did his light coin pouch remind him: he could walk through the Festival but could not participate. Perhaps he should have asked Sanctuary for more funds, but how would that look? He didn''t want the Oracle to get another sense of satisfaction at his helplessness.


    "Young master Molam!"


    Molam closed his eyes and allowed himself a sigh before turning warily. "What now?"


    One of the women from HuaLang Chamber ran up to him, the one who had tried to compel his will with her voice. She approached with both hands up, signaling to him that she wasn''t here for a fight, before bringing out a pouch.


    "The Madam wants you to have this, to thank you for your time." Seeing his unwillingness to touch it, she shook it twice. The sound of jingling coins hit Molam''s ear.


    "Your Madam has a bizarre sense of business." Molam held out his hand with caution. "Is it a good idea for brothel keepers if a man leaves with more coins than he entered with?"


    "The Madam said you would be coyly dismissive." The woman bowed her head, her auburn hair dangling in his face. "I am to remind you that HuaLang Chamber would not stand being accused of paying poorly."


    "Paying?" The word alone seemed to make the bag of coins heavier in his hand.


    "Yes. As I said earlier, for your time."


    Somewhere, the zither had started playing again. The music danced playfully through the air and Molam swore he could hear that tinkling laughter over the sounds of the Festival. After a moment of internal struggle, the delicious scent of cooking food nearby won and Molam put the pouch into his clothes.


    The woman bowed. "I look forward to serving you again, young master."


    Molam watched her meld into the crowd, then turned towards the nearest food stall. It seems like he would be able to buy some more food after all.


    The coin pouch weighed against his chest.

 Ch 44: A View of Violence

    Both "the Endless Night" and "the Eternal Night" refer to the same period of time before the creation of the Sun. There is no doubt that this is one of the least known and understood times in our history. Only those such as the Companions, the Oracle, and one known as the Submerged Leviathan have experienced it, and they rarely speak of it.


    When we asked the Red Emperor, he only replied:


    "All know the legend, few remember the nightmare."


    It is concerning that those who bore witness to these times collectively refuse to speak of it. And so we are left to piece together what we can from the ancient murals and fragments we can find that survived the ages.


    This compilation features our understanding of the conditions in which our ancestors lived when demons roamed the lands.


    We begin with the time before a great spirit granted them fire, known as the age of Darkness. It is perhaps the earliest record we have.


    ¡ª Excerpt from A Night With No End, by Head Scholar Panmoru of the Fallen Star Pavilion


    <hr>


    Martial Arena, ZhiXia City


    Primrose clapped politely as the latest challenger walked off the stage to the cheering of the crowd, having won his fight against the Mirror''s echo. The man had been introduced as Aster, the current leader of the Sharks, a group responsible for enforcing ZhiXia City''s laws.


    While most of the crowd had found it an exhilarating match to watch two dagger users fight in close-ranged combat, Primrose doubted they had truly understood the intricate dance that had actually occurred on stage. Aster had also grown up in HuaLang Chamber and was the one responsible for teaching the art of small blades to Primrose''s generation. The summoned echo had used twin blades while Aster utilized one, using his free hand to grab and strike at unpredictable angles. The duel had ended when the echo extended a stab too far, allowing Aster to grip its wrist and twist its blade back into the echo''s chest.


    "One can only jump in puddles after the rain," Martyker observed nearby, stroking his beard. "How did you find that fight, pretty flower lady? You''re a dagger user too, no?"


    "What makes you say that?" Primrose asked, mentally checking the location of each dagger on her body. Did he know? Had she let it slip? No, she had been very thorough in her preparations this morning, particularly so given her expected close proximity to others. Martyker should not have seen the imprint of a single blade.


    He held up his hand and made a tugging motion with his finger. When her concealed blades twitched, Primrose forced herself to stay calm and not react, but flared her Sight. Silver threads of aura spread from his finger to each of the daggers strapped in their sheathes on her body.


    "I saw a rose and found her thorns." The black man smiled behind his bushy beard and allowed the threads to dissipate.


    Primrose narrowed her eyes. "You would do well to remember not to pry into a lady''s secrets." It was the first time she met an aura user who attuned to metal. She didn''t let her Sight go, ready to act if he tried that again. The thought of her blades being under someone else''s control gave her anxiety that needed to be quelled. "I suppose that''s why Flangel the Wise had you help him with the SunFlower."


    "How astute, how curious, how won-der-ful!" Martyker placed his hand on his heart. "Light shines and the leaves cannot help but dance!"


    Before Primrose could begin to understand what the man meant, Nettie tugged on Primrose''s sleeve, pointing excitedly down at the Arena. "Look! It''s Shurra."


    Primrose tore her eyes away from the one-armed man to look back down to the stage. Shurra stood out from the other challengers with her short-cropped blonde hair and relatively large stature. Bryce and the previous challenger had looked absolutely small when standing next to Master Ji, but Shurra looked¡­ normal-sized.


    Seeing Shurra''s deep-green aura reminded Primrose to relax her eyes as Master Ji and Shurra exchanged a few words. Moments later, Master Ji pointed to the short sword on Shurra''s hip, and Shurra nodded. The Priestess responsible for announcing the event then stood forward.


    "Our next challenger is a Northern Warrior! Her name is Shurra, and she''s on her journey for a story worthy of the HeartHomes of Hjornheim!"


    Master Ji gestured, and Shurra walked up to the Sage''s Mirror to place a hand on it. The green wispy aura running through the Mirror''s black mist crackled and shone, then Shurra leapt backwards and took a neutral stance as a green echo stepped out of the Mirror.


    Shurra drew her sword. Primrose hadn''t noticed it earlier, but Shurra wore clothes in the traditional style for duels in the Northern Tribes. A fur-lined brown leather vest covered Shurra''s short-sleeved white shirt, with a pair of dark blue fisherman pants and sturdy brown boots.


    Her opponent solidified into a slightly transparent woman, equally large in stature and dressed in similar garb. Several tattoos lined the woman''s exposed arms, telling stories of her battles.


    Primrose heard quiet mutterings in the room, and though she didn''t say anything they all seemed similar to her own thoughts.


    "Another Northern Warrior?"


    "How many of them have touched the Sage''s Mirror?"


    "The last time was almost eight years ago, wasn''t it?"


    "Does anyone recognize this one?"


    "By the Seven," an older man stood up, squinting down at the stage. "That face. Those tattoos. Exactly how I remembered seeing her. She fought some thirty odd years ago." He frowned. "Roxxa EarthCaller, from the White Bear Tribe."


    Trepidation flooded Primrose. Roxxa? Shurra had summoned an echo of Roxxa the OutCast? No, Primrose calmed herself down. The echo was merely mimicking each challenger''s strength from when they challenged the Sage''s Mirror, and Roxxa had made her challenge decades ago, before the Northern Tribes had given her an additional Title.


    Roxxa the Traitor. The defector and disgrace of the Northern Tribes.


    ***


    Shurra was stunned upon recognizing the Traitor''s echo. Every child of the White Bear Tribe heard of the Traitor''s tattoo markings. The blue kirin horn shining brilliantly on the woman''s left shoulder. The scars from giant claws on her right forearm, cleverly tattooed by someone with an idea to draw between the scars, giving it a look as though the claws cleaved through the artwork itself. The Blue Rose at the peak of Hjornheim prominently displayed on the woman''s neck, chronicling her feat of conquering the glacial mountain on her sixteenth Name Day.


    Roxxa the Traitor.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    Shurra''s only aunt.


    The facial features she shared with Shurra''s mother were too similar to ignore. Even if every child of the White Bears hadn''t been taught about Roxxa''s tattoos, Shurra could not mistake those angular cheeks and thin nose, even sharing her mother''s full lips. The being in front of her smiled as it looked around, taking in its surroundings.


    Memories surfaced of growing up and listening to the elders talk about their disappointment with the Traitor. The snide comments from the other Tribes questioning their honor, particularly from the Black Oxen and the Yellow Wolves. Late nights seeing her mother field complaints from the Free Cities and denying the White Bears'' involvement when the Traitor caused death and destruction at the Empire''s request.


    Anger pumped in her veins and the steady beating of her heart pounded in her eardrums. The next two breaths accompanied the roar of her heartbeat, sounding almost like the wind one would hear at the edge of a cliff.


    Control your anger, Shurra. Let it fuel you, but never let it drive you. For some reason, the words her sword master drilled into her surfaced in her mother''s voice.


    On the third breath, Shurra held it intentionally to rein in her anger. Her swordmaster would never approve of Shurra giving in to her emotions, and certainly not such a misdirected one. The one in front of her was merely an echo, long before she had lost her duel to the Prince of the Empire and became his subordinate. When she was still known as Roxxa EarthCaller, the pride of the White Bear Tribe.


    Shurra exhaled, forcing herself to keep it steady as she felt her heartbeat fade into the background against the crowd''s noise. Calm. Relaxed but at the ready.


    She noticed the echo-Roxxa dressed in the same manner as herself and couldn''t help but smile. So back then, Roxxa had made the same decision she did. The matching style of traditional vest and fisherman pants seemed very appropriate for their duel.


    Shurra''s grip tightened around the handle of her sword as the echo held out its hand. Condensed aura began forming into the echo''s weapon, and Shurra took her stance.


    ***


    Primrose couldn''t help but be fascinated. The aura-formed weapon had taken on the form of an axe with a protruding tip on its backside. Having never fought against a weapon like that before, Primrose decided this would be a good chance to observe the fighting style. She imagined the weapon served double-duty; the axe-head served for cleaving strikes and the sharp tip could be used for penetrating blows.


    "A one-handed poleaxe." Martyker observed. "And so the ground meets the sky. Does your friend have a Domain?"


    "No," Nettie chirped. "Titled Ones aren''t allowed to participate, remember, Uncle Marty?"


    "Hush," Primrose petted Nettie''s head. She turned her tone slyly. "No need to remind him what makes for a Titled One."


    "I didn''t mean Titled One. Just even a small Domain." Martyker laughed, a deep chuckle. He didn''t rise to her provocation. "But do you know why that rule was instigated? It is always harder to clean up than it is to prevent. If the Mirror always summons an equal, then two Titled Ones would end up fighting. Should you deprive yourself of morning dew just to move a mountain?"


    Primrose looked towards Nettie with a raised eyebrow, looking for an explanation. The girl shrugged back and Primrose felt better about not understanding the man''s words if even the Prodigy couldn''t understand that one. But what she did understand unsettled her. Why had he asked, anyway?


    "Wait." Realization dawned. Primrose closed her eyes, then opened them again with the Sight. The Whale of ZhiXia''s blue Domain covered the audience from the stage still, but a green dome covered the stage itself.


    "I see you See it," Martyker side-eyed her. "In fact, she was the reason Sanctuary added that rule. The day people began calling her Roxxa EarthCaller, her first Title."


    Primrose felt her lips press together in worry.


    "Very green," Nettie said. Primrose looked down, wondering if the girl could See as well, but no. She was peering through a small glass piece, the same one Primrose had seen Kalle use. "What does this mean? Echoes can have Domains?"


    "They can. It also means your Northerner friend ¡ª Shurra, yes? ¡ª is going to have a very hard fight."


    "Net¡ª" the girl paused, then seemed to correct herself with great difficulty, "¡ªI don''t understand why Domain makes it harder," the little girl confessed.


    "Hush now, little one." Martyker leaned over the railing, looking down at the fight with a gleam in his eyes. "Watch the fight and you''ll see."


    ***


    Shurra tensed as she felt the foreign Domain seize the stage. Echoes can have Domains?


    Unlike Master Ji, whose aura bore her no ill-intent, the echo''s Domain carried a sort of¡­ malevolent curiosity. Determined, Shurra focused her breathing, remembering her time training with Master Ji. Though she couldn''t See, Shurra felt the echo''s aura inspect her as it approached. She could never become accustomed to the sensation of a potentially hostile Domain; it felt as though she was being watched from all angles while naked and vulnerable.


    From the corner of her eye, she saw the announcing Priestess ¡ª Shurra had forgotten her name ¡ª hurry over to Master Ji, the Priestess speaking in hurried tones and the Whale responding in curt answers. But Shurra could spare little attention to their conversation as the echo stalked towards her, the poleaxe twirling in its hand. A shift of her own balance put Shurra in a guarded stance, one that would allow her to block an incoming attack or evade to either side.


    The echo stopped just outside of Shurra''s range, bringing her forward foot to the ground with a firm stomp.


    The ground under Shurra''s feet cracked ¡ª she leapt backwards before she lost her footing and the echo was on top of her, the sharp end of the poleaxe slicing towards her head. Planting her back foot firmly down onto the ground, Shurra raised her left arm and blocked the shaft, barely stopping the blade from piercing her head. She twisted her wrist, trying in vain to grasp the shaft as the echo''s kick came in from the same side, using the counter-momentum to pull the shaft right out of Shurra''s reach. The offensive knee met a defensive elbow, then a pivot of the legs found their respective weapons clashing with their entire weight behind it. If the opponent''s weapon wasn''t made of aura, Shurra would have expected sparks to fly.


    Shurra''s wrist strained against the hilt of her sword; an eerie sensation. Even back in the Tribe, few could block an attack from her if she put her full weight behind it. The echo seemed equally surprised, and the two of them slackened their grip almost at the same time to throw an elbow at each other. Shurra leaned into her blow but the echo did not, shifting its weight downwards to stamp down on Shurra''s foot.


    Both strikes collided; Shurra''s elbow crashed right past the echo''s shoulder even as she roared from the pain in her toes. A defensive wide swing with her sword missed the echo as it retreated several paces, a hand feeling at its injured neck. Shurra barely had time to process that it could also feel pain as she leaned on one leg, awkwardly trying to take her weight off her injured foot. Several of her toes throbbed; it felt worse than stubbing them all against a wall. She hoped they weren''t broken, gingerly lowering her foot again to test her balance on her heel.


    No sooner had Shurra regained her balance did the echo lunge forward again, surprising her with its swift recovery. Though her elbow had bounced off the echo''s shoulder before grazing the neck, the glancing blow should have made it impossible to breathe for at least ¡ª right, Shurra reminded herself. The echo might not need to breathe. Or maybe her blow had been shallower than she expected.


    The thought slipped her mind as she parried, blocked, and dodged the flurry of blows. A jab, thrown in here and there to be blocked or even as a feint, kept Shurra on her toes and she winced when her injured foot complained at her forced movement.


    Shurra dropped onto the knee of her injured side and swept her sword forward, slicing into air once again as the echo dodged backwards. The echo''s free hand clenched and the ground behind it raised slightly; planting its back foot onto the raised earth, the echo pushed right back towards Shurra, drawing a cleaving arc towards Shurra''s head with the poleaxe. Lowering her head, Shurra leaned straight under the echo''s guard as the attack swiped past harmlessly, stabbing forward with her sword only to meet nothing.


    How? Shurra looked up to see the echo retreating backwards and to the side. She had timed the attack so that her stab would be hidden underneath the echo''s own attack, its arm blocking its eyes. Master Ji''s warning resounded in her mind.


    The most basic use for a Domain is knowing everything that happens within it. If you ever fight in another''s Domain, it is best to assume they see every single attack and have no blind spots.


    Shurra groaned, standing up on both feet as she tested her toes. They complained, but functioned. More pressing was the fact that Shurra had no idea what to do to gain an edge in this duel. The echo matched her strength, could manipulate the earth, and apparently had no blind spots to exploit.


    She searched for Master Ji in her peripheral vision without looking away from the echo. If Master Ji hadn''t intervened yet, it meant he intended for the match to continue. Part of her hoped that he would say something, maybe even give her a piece of advice.


    But no. The Whale of ZhiXia stood next to the Sage''s Mirror, arms folded, looking solemnly at the two of them in silent repose.


    The echo shifted its stance and Shurra''s attention snapped back into focus. Of course. The Traitor stood in front of her; an echo, for sure, but the shame of the White Bears. It seemed silly of her to even think of wanting to back out of this fight. If she couldn''t even defeat the Traitor''s echo, how could she hope to enact her tribe''s revenge on the person itself?


    And yet the question remained:


    What could she do to win?

 Ch 45: Shifting Perspectives

    If you are in the unfortunate position to encounter an opponent with a Domain while you have none or cannot exert your own, the best course of action is to avoid the confrontation altogether.


    Of course, the young are foolhardy and believe themselves invincible. There are only four record instances of people who have won a fight against someone who had a Domain while they themselves either had none or did not utilize their own:


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Torri the Anima, of the Companions</li>


    </ul>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Solca the Magnanimous, of the Nine Lords</li>


    </ul>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">The Prince of the Empire</li>


    </ul>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Ji WuMing, former Commander of the Red Army and the Whale of ZhiXia</li>


    </ul>


    If you believe yourself to be on equal footing with any one of these individuals, you can certainly try.


    ¡ª Excerpt from Elements of Auramancy by Scholar Dayton of the Fallen Star Pavilion


    <hr>


    Martial Arena, ZhiXia City


    "What part of this matchup did the Sage''s Mirror think was fair?" Primrose asked in a forcibly slow tone. She kept her hands relaxed, a trained habit so she could stay nimble at a moment''s notice. Stay calm, she thought as she took a slow breath. In and out. Do not let personal feelings ever control your actions.


    She considered Shurra a friend just as much as a founding member of the Dao. The Northerner hid her despondent mood well during their intermittent talks leading up to the Festival, but the way Shurra talked about her training told Primrose that her friend was losing faith in her abilities ever since their encounter with the Tempest. Shurra needed to win this, and needed it badly. It frustrated her that the Sage''s Mirror had chosen this echo of all the possible warriors it could have given Shurra to fight and gave it a Domain.


    "Is big sister Shurra going to lose?" Nettie looked up at Primrose.


    "It''s not going to be easy," Primrose murmured. She was quite certain she couldn''t defeat Roxxa''s echo under these conditions. If Shurra had a path to victory, Primrose could not see it.


    "But why?" the girl asked. "The Mirror''s runes stipulate fairness."


    "I always told your Grandfather to teach you more than alchemy." Martyker shook his head, leaning close to Nettie. "When you want peaches, you plant a tree. When you cannot reach the peach, you shake the tree. When you cannot move the tree, you wait for the peach to fall. Shurra may never eat if the birds get to it first."


    It was Nettie''s turn to give Primrose a look of pure confusion. Primrose, to her own amazement, felt she understood the one-armed swordsman¡­ to an extent. She translated for Nettie. "Do you remember Bryce''s fight? The echo won not because it was faster or stronger, but because it was trickier. The same here: it seems Shurra can neither overpower the echo nor outspeed it, so catching it off guard would normally be Shurra''s next move. So," she added, "the problem is that the most basic use for a Domain is awareness. There should be no surprise attacks on someone within their Domain, and Shurra isn''t the type to have many tricks up her sleeve. She is running out of options."


    Down on the stage, the echo walked around Shurra, who didn''t move from her position. Primrose suspected the echo''s stomp on Shurra''s foot had caused lingering damage, given how Shurra''s balance seemed to favor the foot that had been spared. She was already impressed that Shurra had landed the elbow strike against the echo''s neck, but could think of no way for Shurra to overcome the advantages of a Domain.


    The echo lunged forward, poleaxe slicing through the air. Shurra''s sword flashed, parrying the weapon to the side and striking for the echo. But the echo had stomped a foot onto the ground with its strike and the ground beneath Shurra pushed up, disrupting her footing and throwing off the path of her sword. Shurra fell to one knee again, blocking the downward spike from the poleaxe with her sword on its shaft. The weapons clashed, sliding against each other and came clean. As the poleaxe did so, the sharp edge bit into Shurra''s forearm to draw a deep gash up to her wrist.


    "The Mirror''s runes are absolutely fair." Nettie sounded distraught, as though she was trying to convince herself. "Can Shurra not use a Domain?"


    Martyker patted the girl gently on the shoulder. "Exerting a Domain is hard. Even if your friend could, it''s even harder to exert a Domain over someone else''s without their allowing it. It''s possible she''s been trying the entire time and has nothing to show for it."


    "The Mirror is absolutely fair." Nettie repeated herself again. Primrose couldn''t tell if the girl was worried for Shurra or unnerved that the Mirror seemed to be doing something unexpected, but then the girl asked, "What can Shurra do now?"


    "If this were a different fight? Run. I would." Primrose shrugged. The mantra ''avoid engaging an opponent without a clear advantage'' was drilled into her since her days as a Petal. She had tried to learn her own Domain, of course, before she was even considered an auramaster. Every auramancer has tried at least once to master the skill that easily differentiated Titled Ones and themselves, but it had always eluded her. "But, knowing her, she wouldn''t."


    "But it shouldn''t be so one-sided?" Nettie asked. "The Mirror is ¡ª"


    "Absolutely fair." Martyker finished for her. "Don''t worry, I wouldn''t say your friend has no chance of winning just yet."


    Primrose frowned. It was one thing to coddle a child''s feelings, but she did not approve of misleading a child''s hopes. "What makes you say that, Martyker?"


    "Please, call me the Armed Swordsman. And you should have more faith in your friend." Martyker stroked his jungle of a beard. "Honorable Master Ji hasn''t intervened yet. I believe he would have unless he believes she could win. Or so the peach tumbles."


    ***


    Shurra inspected her injured arm, flexing it slightly and wincing at the pain. Thankfully, the tendon was not severed, but she couldn''t use her dominant arm to wield her sword anymore. Passing the sword to her off hand, Shurra took a conservative stance against her opponent.


    The echo had kept its distance while Shurra inspected her wound, for no other discernible reason than not wanting to attack while Shurra was distracted. Shurra could appreciate that; but it also unnerved her. Did the echo make that decision because it was based on the Traitor''s memory? Was this memory of the Traitor still concerned with her own honor?


    Shurra shook the extraneous thoughts away. Irrelevant thoughts can be pondered later. The echo, seeing her take a stance, began walking forward again with its poleaxe at the ready. The movement of its gait had Shurra on edge; the way each step planted into the ground hinted at a barely restrained urge to charge.


    The echo rushed her at less than ten paces away, the poleaxe drawing a horizontal arc towards Shurra''s injured side. Shurra deflected the blow with an awkward off-hand parry; unable to match the blow with strength, she twisted her wrist and guided the axe-blade away from her body with the flat of her sword. Ducking the follow-up wide swing from the echo''s arm, Shurra readied a fist for the echo''s momentary opening on instinct and grit her teeth at the ensuing pain. The opportunity disappeared as the echo stepped backwards, taunting Shurra with a smile.


    It knows. Shurra resumed her earlier stance, but kept her sword closer to the front. One hand was already maimed and her slowed movement should have betrayed the state of her injured foot. The echo knew it held the advantage, but was cautious enough to not present Shurra with any clear opportunity to counterattack.


    It paced around her once again, forcing Shurra to continuously reposition her feet. Shurra ignored the pain each time, keeping her sword at the ready as she tried to think. What had Molam once said to her? I certainly can''t do everything you can, Shurra, but that''s why I try to be very good at the few things I can do. But physical reinforcement was what Shurra could claim to be good at, and this echo-Roxxa had fully matched her in that aspect.


    As Shurra pivoted to face the echo once again, it rushed in before Shurra had planted her foot down, faster than Shurra believed possible. Where was the poleaxe? The echo''s shoulder shifted and Shurra instinctively felt the danger rather than saw it, collapsing backwards as the echo''s weapon swiped upwards where her chin had been. A quick roll and attempt to get back on her feet was thwarted as Shurra caught the echo''s downward blow on her sword, blocking the attack by pushing against the flat of her own blade with her injured hand.


    An explosive kick came into her vision, far too late for Shurra to block her exposed weaker side. She grunted, absorbing the blow with her body as best she could, steeling herself against the wave of pain breaching her reinforced torso. Shurra fought through the pain to catch the echo''s leg under her armpit, twisting her sword downwards in an attempt to cut the echo''s trapped thigh.Stolen novel; please report.


    To her surprise, the echo dropped its free leg, pulling itself down to Shurra''s level and causing Shurra''s aim to go wide; only the hilt struck the echo''s thigh. The butt of the poleaxe slammed straight for her chin. It glanced off painfully. Shurra''s vision swirled as she clamped down, unwilling to let go.


    "You should know better." Shurra growled at the echo. "Bears do not let go."


    Her second slice towards the trapped leg glanced off the poleaxe''s shaft, hastily thrust in to block the attack. The echo pulled them closer using its own leg as leverage, an awkward movement considering the two of them were on their knees close to the ground. A fist flew towards Shurra''s head. Shurra blocked it with her arm. She shifted her weight and rammed a knee straight into the echo''s defenseless side.


    "Even if you know about it, you can''t block it from this position, can you?" Shurra grunted through the pain. The echo''s own kick to her side had definitely broken something, even if the attack had been her momentous opportunity. She delivered another brutal knee strike into the echo''s side. "You might have a Domain, but I wonder who''s body can take punishment better?"


    The echo slammed a fist into the ground, sending a spider web of cracks throughout the raised stage. Before Shurra could inflict another blow, the stage beneath them exploded in a rain of rock, pelting Shurra painfully all over. She shielded her face with an arm, stubbornly holding onto the echo''s leg. Once the hail of rocks dissipated, she could ¡ª


    "That''s enough."


    The leg in Shurra''s grasp disappeared. Shurra groped around blindly, blinking at the dust. When her vision cleared, the Whale of ZhiXia''s massive shadow stood over her. His hand hovered over her shoulder and the echo was nowhere to be seen.


    Did Master Ji interfere? Shurra tried to push herself to her feet, rising with her anger. "Why did you end it? I could have finished that by ¡ª"


    "The echo won." The Whale spoke in a matter-of-fact tone. He lifted his arm from near her neck. "It aimed for your neck when you shielded your eyes. If I hadn''t intervened, your head would be rolling on the ground right now."


    "You don''t know that!" The bloodrush, still coursing through Shurra''s veins, made her protest come out as an outburst. She stood up, rearing to her full height and ignoring the pain from her foot. "I could have blocked that in time! I had a chance against the Traitor! I could have killed ¡ª"


    Her words choked in her throat as the Whale''s finger loomed ¡ª Shurra saw it as a pillar the size of a mountain as Master Ji held it out over her the way a parent would to a misbehaving child. The ethereal weight of his Domain pressed down upon her, a feeling she''d experienced only once before in front of the Twin Stars. Shurra''s knees crumpled at the sheer pressure and she fell backwards, collapsing painfully onto her rear.


    She did not dare look up, staring down at the ground in front of her as the Whale of ZhiXia took a step towards her. No; even if Shurra had the will, her body would have refused to look up and meet his gaze.


    When the Whale finally spoke, it was in an uncharacteristically soft whisper. "Do not take gambles where being wrong means the debts are incurred by the living." His voice dropped to a deceptively calm tone, bringing a rising tide of guilt inside Shurra. "Do you understand?"


    "Yes," Shurra murmured without looking up. His words weighed on her heavier than even his Domain.


    "Good." The Whale stepped away, the weight of his aura dissipating in that moment. He waved over two Priestesses from the sidelines who had been waiting respectfully. "See to her wounds."


    They came forth. The younger one, a brunette with a small mole on the side of her cheek, almost tripped on the hem of her white robe as they navigated the ruined stage. The older one, copper skinned with a noble nose, inspected Shurra''s cut arm as the younger one tried to work off Shurra''s boot. The sudden movement on her injured foot caused Shurra to wrinkle her nose in pain.


    "She doesn''t seem to be in immediate danger, though I''ll need to take a good look at her foot injury," the older Priestess informed Master Ji, then turned to Shurra. "Can you walk? We can treat the wound inside instead of doing it here." She gestured at the shattered stage around them, then wider to the audience in the stands.


    Shurra nodded in response, but her eyes lingered on the Whale of ZhiXia. If he felt her gaze, he did not return it as he spoke to the Priestess whose role was to announce the event. The two Priestesses hoisted her up and shepherded her away.


    But she did hear Priestess Kanteru give another announcement as she followed the two Priestesses back into the Arena. "That was a very exciting match! Unfortunately, owing to the destruction of the stage, we will need to postpone the other matches and fix the stage overnight. The rest of the matches have been rescheduled at the Whale''s request, and we look forward to seeing the combatants show us their skills tomorrow!"


    ***


    The Arena''s infirmary was conveniently located on the ground floor, right inside the hallway leading out to the stage. The younger Priestess fussed at Shurra, but Shurra refused to allow the crowd to see her needing help walking. The older one led the way, turning at times to ensure Shurra was following.


    Inside the infirmary, the older Priestess directed Shurra to sit on the bed. Shurra was grateful they did not tell her to lie down; the bed was not built for a Northerner''s size.


    "Ah!" The younger one spoke up as she tried to remove Shurra''s boot again. "Before we forget, miss, do you want these injuries to scar? I heard Northern Warriors like to decorate their battlescars. Priestess Raella is very good, she can make even burn wounds heal without being too visible. But we really don''t want to ¡ª"


    "It''s fine if they scar," Shurra''s voice came out hoarse.


    "Should be a nice, straight line then," the young Priestess beamed a smile as she finally worked off the boot. Shurra groaned; blood circulating through her foot brought a fresh new wave of pain. "Have you thought of how you''ll decorate it too?"


    "This won''t be decorated."


    The Priestess stopped, looking fully at Shurra with her striking green eyes. "What? Why?"


    "Hush with the questions, Priestess Rorona." The one called Priestess Raella spoke in a gentle tone, her beautiful brown eyes focused on the gash on Shurra''s arm. Her green touch, visible to even the Sightless, was warm and soft as she reknitted the flesh and skin around the wound. Even in her dejected state, Shurra could appreciate the Priestess'' skill; she''d been healed many times by other healers but this freshly healed wound did not itch at all.


    "For what it''s worth," Priestess Raella leaned close to Shurra, gripping her chin and peering into her eyes and face, "I thought it was a close match. You should feel proud that the Mirror considered you two an equal matchup." She nodded, seemingly satisfied with her inspection. "Hmm, no dilated pupils and no pain from moving of the neck. Do a full rotation like this," the Priestess demonstrated, rolling her head around her shoulders.


    But was it? The bitter thought echoed in Shurra''s thoughts as she followed the Priestess'' command. She had only landed one real blow, one that was shrugged off almost immediately. Most everything else had been an equal exchange but the echo had landed blows that did real damage.


    "It didn''t feel close." Shurra looked down, away from either Priestess. Her eyes stung. "After all the guidance Master Ji was willing to give me¡­ if the loss didn''t disappoint him, losing to my anger did. I''ve acted like a fool and dishonored myself in front of him."


    "Goodness. I''ve heard of the Northern Tribes'' obsession with their honor, but it''s a different experience to see it," Priestess Raella spoke while inspecting Shurra''s foot. "Priestess Rorona, be a dear and get the tougher gauze we use." She looked back up at Shurra. "I''m impressed you fought like this. Three of your toes are broken and it would tax me too much to fully coax the bone fractures into mending themselves. I will hasten the healing after we set it and you can come see me again after the Festival if it needs more help, but I must conserve my aura to help other combatants."


    Shurra nodded glumly as the younger Priestess ran off to fetch the required materials.


    Priestess Raella reached forward and held Shurra''s hand. "You are too harsh on yourself, Shurra. May I call you Shurra?" She didn''t wait for Shurra to respond. "Listen. When you summoned the echo and we recognized it, Priestess Kanteru wanted to stop the fight." Her face scrunched up, as though remembering something unpleasant, then continued, "I was in agreement too, and for good reason. This was a relatively contained incident, but see how we needed to reschedule because the stage was destroyed? But," she paused, reaching up and touching Shurra''s arm, "it was the Whale who told us to let the fight proceed."


    After a moment, the words registered in Shurra''s mind. She looked up, meeting Priestess Raella''s gaze for the first time. The woman''s brown eyes exuded gentle kindness. "Master Ji did?"


    "He did," Priestess Raella confirmed, then spoke to Priestess Rorona, who had returned with the gauze. "I will hold the foot, but you will wrap it. Do you remember how?"


    "Yes, yes, I''ve only seen you do it hundreds of times." Priestess Rorona rolled her eyes, then went to work.


    "In a way," Priestess Raella returned her gaze to Shurra, "none of us believed in you then. The only one who did was the Whale. He believed in you more than anyone."


    "But I failed," Shurra pounded a fist into the bed. To her surprise, the arm only felt slight pain and the newly healed skin did not break. "I couldn''t even land a single blow correctly. What have I been working towards?"


    "Stop moving," Priestess Rorona complained, still working on Shurra''s foot.


    "I won''t heal you again because of your own stupidity," Priestess Raella warned, pointing at Shurra''s arm.


    "I''m sorry," Shurra apologized to the two. "I''m just¡­" Her voice trailed off. What was she feeling? Pain? Anger?


    "Frustrated?" The older Priestess finished for her.


    "Frustrated." That was the word. "Yes," Shurra sighed, then repeated it. "Frustrated."


    The Priestesses fell silent as Priestess Rorona worked on Shurra''s foot. Priestess Raella pointed to where creases had formed in the wrapped gauze, to which Priestess Rorona replied that toes were round and did not have flat surfaces. When everything was done, Priestess Raella pronounced it mediocre but acceptable and touched the gauze with a glowing finger. The gauze solidified in an instant.


    "I can only say that I understand being frustrated even if I don''t understand your specific frustration, Shurra." Priestess Raella stood up, smoothing out her white robe. Shurra noticed a streak of dark red smeared over the Priestess'' robe, no doubt from her injuries, but the Priestess did not seem to care. "And my unsolicited advice would be to be productive with that frustration when you can. Channel it towards being better. I am sure the Whale would expect it from you if you have been receiving his guidance."


    "What would you know about my frustration?" Shurra bristled, then regretted the harshness in her tone. She tried to justify it again by adding, "And how would your frustrations compare to my being unable to face the disgrace of my people? If this was what the Traitor was like three decades ago, how could I ever hope to beat the real one then?"


    The Priestess only tilted her head with a small smile. "Perhaps I don''t understand, not being a Northerner." She stood up and bowed deeply to Shurra. "Come, Priestess Rorona. She will need time to rest." Priestess Raella collected the rest of the materials and walked back out to the Arena.


    Priestess Rorona bowed to Shurra as well, but it was half-hearted. When she straightened up, her green eyes gazed at Shurra with reproach. "Everyone''s frustrated at times, Miss Shurra. Each time we fail to save a life, how do you think we feel?" The younger Priestess followed her mentor out the door.


    Shurra sat there with her thoughts. The pain in her foot was beginning to subside, yet somehow she felt even worse inside.

 Ch 46: Sword

    I believe life is found in the mundane. Far too many miss out on the wonder of their own stories because of some inexplicable desire to look for the next wondrous excitement.


    If only I had understood this in my youth.


    The days may drag on, but the decades truly fly by.


    ¡ª Excerpt from the journal of Flangel the Wise


    <hr>


    Outskirts of ZhiXia City


    Rei attempted to conceal her impatience as she lightly tapped her fan against her shoulder while hovering above Roxxa with crossed arms. The two of them observed Desmi, standing near the campfire facing towards ZhiXia City. His eyes were closed in concentration as he gripped his harpoon, its tip stuck into the ground to help him communicate with Kymja in the City.


    "It''s been some time now and we haven''t been able to make a move," Rei murmured to Roxxa just to break the silence. "We aren''t getting anything done at this rate."


    The Northerner seemed to pay her no mind, but Rei saw little reason why they couldn''t converse. Desmi had to be silent so his aura could pulse silently through the Whale''s Domain, but neither of them were involved in that endeavor.


    So she kept trying. "There''s four of us here. Even if Ruskru approved of it, we are leaving too many cities undefended without our presence."


    "Be silent," Roxxa finally muttered. "Hunters are rewarded with patience."


    "We don''t even know if the Prodigy has Flangel''s Ring or if she can build the SunFlower. What if all of this is for naught? What would we tell the Prince if we lose another city?"


    "There''s no we here," Desmi opened his eyes. "You lost a city, Rei. Not us. Though admittedly, the Prince was prepared to give away JiangXi, given how he made me send more resources to help that Oasian City Lord."


    "Once again, I did not ¡ª"


    Roxxa held up a hand and Rei fell silent. "Well?" Roxxa asked Desmi. "Has Kymja been productive at all? Do we have an opening to take the Prodigy?"


    "Kymja says she has moments of opportunity, but it''s a different matter to safely move the Prodigy out of ZhiXia City. Even if she assumed the Whale would hold himself back within the confines of the City, she sees no way to escape the Whale on her own. And¡­" Desmi scratched his head, "Kymja said that the Oracle''s Domain has disappeared. ZhiXia City is only protected by the Whale at this moment."


    A pointed look from Roxxa caused Rei to nod. She hovered higher, raising herself up above the trees to focus her Sight in the City''s direction. A few moments later, she dropped back down.


    "I See the Whale''s Domain, but I don''t See the white aura of the Oracle''s," Rei announced, slightly dubious in what she saw. "Which¡­ makes no sense. The Oracle never leaves Sanctuary."


    "That could mean anything. It''s the Festival of the Hero," Desmi pointed out. "Not to mention, would it matter at all? The Submerged Leviathan."


    "The Leviathan only protects Sanctuary. The Prince has said so," Roxxa murmured with her chin laying against her palm. Her brows furrowed in contemplation. "If we contain our activities to ZhiXia City, we can avoid a confrontation with the Leviathan."


    "That''s a lot of if," Rei opined. She did not like this at all; not this close to Sanctuary, not this close to the Whale. "We know nothing about the Oracle''s activities and she conveniently lowers her Domain during this time? I know this sounds like what Jett would say but¡­ is that not too coincidental?"


    "We have been very careful about concealing our presence here." Roxxa''s face seemed impassive, but her voice carried a tone of exasperation. "As you said earlier, there are four of us here. Several Cities lay undefended while we tarry. We must act soon."


    ***


    Sanctuary


    Molam found Sanctuary difficult to reach on his way back; the Festival-goers seemed to have no concept of sleep even this deep in the night. Or, he mused, perhaps no one could sleep through these firecrackers roaring an incessant cacophony outside of the Pleasure district. The custom of firecrackers came about from a folktale where the Companions allegedly did not sleep for the entire siege at the base of the Stairs. Faced with the problem of darkness and the threat of unseen attacks, the Great Sage used bright lights and noise to keep the Companions awake.


    Molam suspected that Kalle''s flamepowder and the contents of the firecrackers shared similar materials. He wondered if he should ask the alchemist if he was correct the next time they saw each other.


    Luckily, Molam was no stranger to moving through crowds. He stuck to the sides of the roads where there was less foot traffic and took side paths that seemed empty, winding his way slowly through the alleys towards Sanctuary. Whenever he saw roving bands of drunkards, he took another path or leaned against a nearby stall, minimizing his presence so as to not attract attention. Despite the tradition to avoid conflict, Molam was unwilling to test his luck against those with impaired judgment.


    A sea of people crowded the front entrance to Sanctuary itself, no doubt listening to oral tales being recited by the Priestesses and congregating around the bonfire. A glance at the distance and sheer number of people made Molam unwilling to squeeze his way through to the entrance; he opted to use one of the side entrances Priestess Komura had shown him.


    Molam walked into an unassuming building where several Priestesses were making large amounts of food to hand out to Festival-goers. A pair of Priestesses came forward to block his way and Molam greeted them ¡ª then gestured to the door in the back. Upon recognizing him, they let him through.


    Once inside, Molam made his way to the main hallway, intending to look for the Oracle again when he was surprised to see the Whale of ZhiXia''s large form. Next moment, he noticed Shurra''s tall stature leaning against a nearby wall, followed by Primrose''s bright orange-red hair hovering near Master Ji''s elbow, her purple eyes focused on Nettie who stood nearby. The little girl was holding hands with a stocky bearded man with a greatsword on his back; judging by his dark skin, an Oasian.


    Primrose looked up; her lips flattened upon seeing him. Nettie followed her gaze, then waved cheerfully at Molam. Shurra glanced up, and nodded at him.


    "I understand your concern with the unannounced lowering of her Domain," a Priestess was saying as Molam sidled up to the group. "But the Oracle''s last instruction to us was quite clear. She is not seeing anyone at this moment ¡ª not even you, Master Ji."


    The Whale of ZhiXia stood silent, then rumbled, "And if I wanted to leave a message?"


    "I can try and leave your message at her door, but if the Oracle won''t open the Inner Sanctum I won''t force my way in."


    "That is acceptable. My message is¡ª" Master Ji paused, then turned his attention to Molam with an indigo stare. "My apologies," he said to the Priestess, who looked on quizzically, "but is there a spare room I can talk in private?"


    The Priestess nodded, pointing to a nearby door; Master Ji took a step towards it and beckoned to Molam. Suddenly apprehensive, Molam dared not refuse.


    "Just Molam," Master Ji held a hand up to Primrose and the rest as they attempted to follow. "Please wait a moment."


    The Whale held the door open for Molam, who walked inside. The room looked to be one where Priestesses copied texts. Piles of paper were stacked neatly, with various tools for ink brush writing lined up. Perhaps the Festival had put a stop to the activities for now.


    Closing the door behind him, Master Ji looked down at Molam, his gaze searching before he pointed to Molam''s arm guard.


    "Show me what''s inside."


    "Master Ji, I ¡ª"


    The Whale gave him a look that implied he expected to be obeyed.


    Molam sighed and began undoing the straps around his arm. Releasing the arm guard, he flipped it over to extricate the burnt-orange feather and held it up for Master Ji. The taller man bent down to inspect it, but did not seem to want to touch it.


    "This aura is the same as the one I sense from within the Inner Sanctum," he spoke after a moment. "What do you know about it? Why are you carrying this?"


    "The Oracle isn''t in danger," Molam placated him immediately. "This is the feather of a spirit. The same one that the Oracle had me free from the Crimson Palace, whose egg is undergoing rebirth as we speak. I hope the Oracle has informed you?"


    "The spirit egg held within Crimson Palace''s Shrine?" Master Ji clarified.


    Molam nodded.


    The Whale stroked his chin thoughtfully. "You may not know this, but the Oracle''s Domain has disappeared and was replaced with this one. She has never lowered her Domain," he added, "Not in the decades I''ve known her. Do you know anything about this?"


    The spirit''s last few words surfaced in Molam''s memory. My attention will be focused elsewhere for sometime and I will not be able to respond to help you. "I think¡­" Molam spoke slowly, "That our spirit is currently protecting the Oracle while she turns her attention elsewhere. Perhaps she is resting? Do Domains remain active during your sleep?"


    "Most Titled Ones learn early on to keep their Domains active at all times. I have concerns¡­ but the Oracle must have had her own plans if she sealed the Inner Sanctum. Can you communicate with the spirit?"


    "Hmm," Molam thought the spirit would have reacted when he was captured by HuaLang Chamber. However, since the Whale seemed insistent regarding this, he should try just to reassure him. Holding the feather in front of him, he spoke aloud. "Fiery One?"


    But there was no response.


    "It was worth a try," Molam gave the Whale an apologetic shrug. "It told me its attention would be focused elsewhere."Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    Master Ji held an inscrutable look before he finally sighed. "If the Leviathan has not acted then there is nothing to do. I apologize if you became alarmed for nothing."


    "We cannot be too careful when it comes to the Oracle''s well-being," Molam tucked away the feather. "Ah. Before I forget¡­ I would like to request your help tomorrow, Master Ji."


    "What is it?"


    "I have been pressed into participating in the Arena. It would be easy for you to put a stop to things for me, but the situation calls for at least some semblance of a satisfying result for the other party." Molam paused, then added slowly, "Is there a way for me to participate but for you to manipulate things for me?"


    Several heartbeats passed before Master Ji sighed. "I have never seen one attempt to interact with the Sage''s Mirror while having your¡­ condition, for lack of a better term. I do not know what would be summoned, or whether the Mirror would respond to you at all. It would be better if you resolved this without stepping foot in the Arena."


    "Isn''t the event fought within your Domain?" Molam frowned, leaning back against the wall. "There''s much you can do that no one else would be able to question."


    "Yes, but I believe you''ve convinced the others your aura is red. A starkly different color than my own."


    Molam made a face. "I never thought it would come to this," he rubbed his temples, trying to think. While Molam didn''t blame his past self for the decision, it always frustrated him when these past choices closed off doors he didn''t even know existed.


    "Do you know if," he began slowly, his eyes flickering back up to the Whale, "the Mirror would react to the Oracle''s aura?"


    The Whale hesitated. "I do not fully understand how the Mirror works."


    Molam pressed. "If you had to guess?"


    "It may."


    "Would it be dangerous? I don''t want to think I''ve found a solution only to summon something that cannot be dealt with. This is the Oracle''s aura, after all."


    Master Ji''s eyes flickered with an indigo glow as he glanced Molam up and down. "The Oracle has imparted just the shell of her color onto you, enough to give you the presence of an auramaster. It would be¡­ dubious that the Mirror treats you as a Titled One."


    Heaving a deep sigh and pinching his nose bridge, Molam closed his eyes. "It''ll have to do. Otherwise, I''ll rely on you and think of an excuse."


    "You could always tell them the truth about your situation."


    "No." The word came out faster than Molam expected. "No," he repeated himself, slower this time. "If you were me, you would do the same."


    The Whale of ZhiXia appraised him silently. "Flangel the Wise once told me that we create our own torments," the man shook his head. "For some reason, that one has always stuck with me."


    "Thank you for your concern," Molam ignored the implied disapproval, cocking his head towards the door. "Now, next step: what will we tell the ones outside? I''m certain they''ll have questions."


    "The matter of the Oracle must be kept between us." The Whale put his hand on the door, then looked at Molam. "I''ll have you deal with the matter of coming up with something else to placate their inquisitive natures. In exchange for my help tomorrow¡­ should you need it."


    Before Molam could protest, Master Ji had already pushed open the door and walked out. Molam followed, unable to decide if he heard a teasing tone in Master Ji''s voice.


    Outside, the Whale excused himself swiftly, stating that he needed to return to the Martial Arena before ruffling Nettie''s wiry hair with a hand on the way out. The Priestesses bowed their heads slightly as he passed.


    Four pairs of eyes honed in on Molam.


    "Where have you been?" Primrose demanded, somehow crossing the distance in a mere two strides. Her eyes flashed purple. "Moreover ¡ª what was that about?"


    "Happy Festival of the Hero to you too, Primrose." Molam replied with false cheer as he tried to think of how he would navigate her impending interrogation. "Have you been enjoying the Festival?"


    "That''s not an answer to either question." Her tone told Molam he couldn''t avoid answering, but he wished he had more time to think in front of her Sight.


    "Let''s see¡­ I''ve been to HuaLang Chamber and met Madam Scarlette. We had tea," he added slowly, seeing Primrose''s eyes widen, "Then I agreed to participate in the Martial Arena tomorrow. Madam Scarlette was quite insistent."


    If he couldn''t lie, then he would distract her with the truth.


    "You went to ¡ª" Primrose frowned, then her eyes widened as she came to a moment of clarity. "And that''s why you ¡ª oh." A moment of silence, then, "You''re participating in tomorrow''s martial event?"


    Excellent. Primrose had come to the conclusion he hoped and moved past her question. Molam shrugged, "It was hardly my idea. As I said ¡ª Madam Scarlette was very insistent."


    A heavy hand laid on his shoulder. Molam looked up to see Shurra. "Now this is curious. We can''t find you for weeks and now you show up to participate in the Martial Arena?" She leaned down, a gleam in her eyes. "Were you training?"


    Molam gave her a big smile, grateful for Shurra''s straight thinking. "Well, less training and more¡­" he paused for the right word, keenly aware of Primrose''s purple gaze, "recovering."


    ***


    Nettie yawned, watching Primrose and Shurra harass Molam for answers. Nettie didn''t understand why Molam answered so indirectly. In the short time Nettie knew him, Nettie had found Molam to be categorized as the type of person to be decisive with his actions.


    "The ground seems inviting?" Martyker asked Nettie kindly, scooping her up into his arm and hoisting her up so their eyes met.


    "Nettie is tired," Nettie admitted, pressing a closed fist to her mouth.


    "Well, the first day of the Festival is always the longest," Martyker commented as he signaled to Primrose his intentions, who nodded. "And it''s long past bedtime. The pretty flower lady agrees I should help put you to bed nearby."


    A quiet exchange of words with the nearest Priestesses pointed them to a room just down the hall, where they found a guest room with a solitary bed. Martyker laid Nettie down and tucked her in, saying, "Master Flangel would chide me for not making sure you clean your teeth."


    Nettie snuggled in with a happy sigh. "Nettie will do it tomorrow. And clean."


    "So says the setting sun," Martyker replied, standing up to leave, but then was stopped by Nettie''s voice.


    "Uncle Marty," Nettie said sleepily, "Can you tell Nettie a bedtime story again?"


    "You do know your uncle has a match tomorrow?" Martyker smiled, "An unsharpened sword cuts nothing."


    "But GrandFather said you always keep your sword sharp," Nettie pleaded. "Nettie has had to sleep without a bedtime story for a long time."


    "Ahhhhh," Martyker sighed, then pulled up a chair and sat down near the bed. "Very well then. What story would you like?"


    "The Hero."


    "But you already know that story," Martyker frowned. "Didn''t you hear the Priestesses tell it again earlier?"


    "But Nettie likes the stories about the Hero."


    "How about a fun fact?" Martyker teased with a grin.


    "Ohhh. Love fun facts."


    "Alright then." Martyker paused, stroking his beard. "Do you know why the Empire calls the Hero by a slightly modified Title: the First Hero?"


    Nettie pulled up the sheet covers right past her lips, exposing only her dark button nose and bright brown eyes. "Nettie does not."


    "Well, they say it comes from the Red Emperor himself, interestingly enough. There''s never been another Titled One with "Hero" in their moniker, of course, and it can''t possibly be a recurring Title like yours. But then, the Scholars at the Fallen Star Pavilion theorize the Red Emperor wanted to encourage people to strive to be like the Hero."


    "Nettie doesn''t understand?"


    "Well," Martyker smiled through his beard, "If there''s a first, there must be a second and more afterwards, right?"


    The girl frowned, then nodded. "Is logical."


    "Perhaps the Red Emperor hoped that by making it open-ended, people would aspire to be like the Hero. They would think: If I do heroic things, I can be the next Hero! Or so the water falls."


    "But Uncle Marty just told Nettie there''s never been another Hero Title." Nettie pointed out. "Does that mean no one has tried to make another Sun?"


    "Well, I wouldn''t say that creating a Sun is the sole requirement to becoming a hero," Martyker caressed Nettie''s head gently. "Have you never met someone who helped you, above and beyond what they needed to do, and you came further in life because of it?"


    "Nettie met Uncle Marty. Uncle Marty tells great stories to help Nettie sleep."


    Martyker laughed. "Thank you, thank you, thank you. At least you recognize that I don''t need to tell you stories, hm?"


    Nettie lifted her head above the covers to give him a toothy smile.


    "Well then, here''s a story about Uncle Marty''s hero," Martyker fell silent, as though gathering his thoughts. "A long time ago, your Uncle Marty had an older brother and sister. They were known throughout the lands, and our father was very proud of them. Then the time came when they were called to war."


    "Oh no," Nettie''s small hand reached out from under the cover to touch Martyker''s wrist. "War bad," she murmured sleepily.


    "War bad indeed." Martyker agreed. "Very bad. My brother and sister didn''t come back home alive. Our father became¡­ distant. He was very proud of them, you see. Your Uncle Marty thought it was a new purpose, to show him that he still had one child. But I couldn''t be like either of them no matter how hard I tried. I thought then that I failed in my filial duty."


    "Is no fail, Uncle Marty. Cannot fail with family if you tried," Nettie said.


    "That''s very kind of you, Nettie," Martyker replied,"So one day, I left my home to go kill the man who murdered my brother and sister. I thought if I succeeded, it would help my father''s grief. And if I didn''t¡­" Martyker shrugged, "Well, my father wouldn''t miss me."


    "Did Uncle Marty succeed?"


    "Uncle Marty did not," he shook his head. "The opponent ¡ª the bad man ¡ª was too strong. Terrifyingly so."


    "But who was Uncle Marty''s hero? Did they save you from the bad man?"


    Martyker smiled at the girl''s one-track mind. "Ah yes, I apologize. I was telling you a bedtime story, right? No, the bad man let Uncle Marty live, though Uncle Marty paid for his life with an arm." His left hand unwittingly went to his missing right shoulder. "No, Uncle Marty met his hero several months later. I didn''t die, but I couldn''t go back to my father either. Not having failed so miserably, not having lost my dominant arm."


    The candlelight flickered, causing the shadows of the room to wink in and out of existence. "I took it upon myself to challenge everyone from the Empire then, between ZhiXia City and Falysos. If I couldn''t kill the bad man, perhaps I could make his Empire bleed just a little bit? I think¡­ At the very least, if I had earned a Title just like my siblings, I could go back home. Perhaps my father would then also be proud of me."


    Nettie''s hand squeezed Martyker''s wrist. "Nettie is happy you did not die, or you wouldn''t be able to tell Nettie stories."


    Martyker laughed at that. "Then you should be glad that this is when I met my hero. Unfortunately, my activities had caused annoyances to more than just the Empire, and so he was sent to beat some sense into me. I lost ¡ª I couldn''t even call that a fight. The difference between someone like me and a true Titled One is too great. I understood then that it''s possible I could never cross that boundary, and that''s when I begged him to kill me."


    Nettie frowned. "GrandFather would say, if you fail your purpose you should just find another."


    "That''s very much like Master Flangel. I think my hero would agree, but that''s not what he said to me when I was at my worst. No, he told me: how we die may matter to others, but it is how we live¡­ that matters to us."


    "Hmm." Nettie gave that some thought. "I think GrandFather would agree with that too."


    "But do you see now, Nettie?" Martyker stroked her head, his coarse fingers gentle against Nettie''s head. "I think a hero is exactly that. Doing just a little more than they need to do, for people they don''t have a reason to do anything for. It''s the small things. The Hero may have created the Sun, but one doesn''t need to illuminate the world to be a hero. Just¡­ bring a little light into someone else''s world."


    Snuggling her head into the pillow at his touch, the Nettie closed her eyes. "Nettie likes that. But GrandFather would say you should find purpose too, or you will have nothing to live for." She yawned deeply, fighting the onset of drowsiness. "Did¡­ did Uncle Marty find purpose again?"


    "Well, something hasn''t changed. I still want to be Titled, like my brother and sister. I want my hero to recognize me as his disciple. Then, maybe¡­ I''ll return home. It''s been many decades since I last saw my father." Martyker paused. "And a new purpose too. The Sun sets and rises in turn, does it not? I didn''t think about picking up another purpose, but I owe Master Flangel too much to leave you alone."


    ***


    Nettie''s eyes had closed. Her deep breaths could only be seen in the way the covers rose and descended in turn. Martyker doubted she finished hearing him say what had been on his mind.


    Well, it didn''t matter. Perhaps it was for the better. The poor girl had gone through enough, had enough problems of her own. It would not do to heap his own problems onto her.


    Martyker pushed his chair back silently, setting his greatsword to the side. Nettie was right: His sword was already sharp. As everyone knows, the weathered rock is prepared for the rain.


    He blew out the candle. The lingering scent of smoke drifted in the air, seemingly amplified by the darkness. Martyker sat in the seat to watch over Nettie as he closed his eyes, beginning to meditate.

 Ch 47: Shatter

    The friendship between the Red Emperor and Flangel the Wise may be immortalized in a shared line within their writings; the Red Emperor''s Meditations and Flangel the Wise''s personal journal.


    "The greatest gift we can give others is a better future."


    It is a shame that Flangel the Wise and the Prince of the Empire did not see eye to eye after the War of Crowns. Two who held the Title of Prodigy. One wonders what they could have accomplished together.


    ¡ª Excerpt from Titled Ones, by Scholar Gibryl of the Fallen Star Pavilion


    <hr>


    Day 2 of the Festival of the Hero


    Molam sat in the special seating on the third floor of the Martial Arena and yawned, drawing a look of disapproval from Shurra as they listened through the announcing Priestess''s explanation of the event and how the Sage''s Mirror worked for those who may be new. He covered his mouth with a lazy hand.


    "Don''t give me that look," he protested. "It''s you and Primrose that refused to let me go to sleep early with your questions."


    "Perhaps if somebody hadn''t gone and disappeared for weeks."


    "Is that sass? From you of all people, Shurra? And did your collective curiosity really need to be satisfied yesterday?" Molam bit into his breakfast: fried dough wrapped in a fried egg, stuffed between two pieces of bread. The savory taste woke him up some more, as though awakening the taste buds also woke up the body. After swallowing, he murmured, "At least I''m not late. Have you seen Primrose? She was the one who pressed upon me how important it was for me to not miss this."


    "You shouldn''t claim diligence for my efforts." Shurra responded testily. "You avoided being late because I was at your door in the morning."


    "Yes, yes, but the least you could have done is allow me to eat before dragging me here. My name isn''t even on the schedule yet."


    Glowering at him, Shurra spoke in a low voice, "Do you know what we do in the Northern Tribes to men who are late?"


    Molam laughed nervously, pouring himself a hot cup of tea. "Well then, good thing we aren''t in the Northern Plains."


    Truth be told, Molam had been unable to find a way to avoid coming here. Despite distracting Primrose with the admission of his encounter with HuaLang Chamber, she seemed to ignore that Molam now knew a bit more about her history and had focused on making sure he did what the Madam wanted. "And seeing as Primrose is late, what do the Northern Tribes do to women who are late?"


    "Those who care for children get extra leeway," Shurra scooted her chair back, standing up. "Perhaps you should remember that."


    "Where are you going?" Molam asked through a mouthful of food. It was probably rude, but Molam knew Shurra didn''t care much for these manners. And he found himself quite hungry.


    "To check up on Primrose. Children are a handful, you know. Keep eating."


    Shurra left, her parting indifference making Molam wonder what had happened since the time he went up to the Castle. Then again, he mused as he dipped more egg in soy sauce, he could only blame himself for the way he left them.


    "Well, well," said a familiar sing-song voice behind him. "Young master Molam. I am glad to see you well rested after the first day of the Festival."


    Molam turned, seeing Madam Scarlette standing next to Mursa Shang. The Mursa, dressed in fine black silk robes with golden links embroidered in the seams, seemed younger with his long hair tied up in a neat bun behind his head. The Madam herself wore a body-hugging red dress decorated with streaks of silver and a red veil over her eyes, though her lips had been painted a plum black. Molam could not be sure but the silver streaks in her dress seemed to be embedded needles.


    "You two know each other?" Mursa Shang frowned, looking from one to the other.


    "We met yesterday over tea and young master Molam was kind enough to promise he would entertain me during today''s Arena." Madam Scarlette arranged her dress neatly before sitting down on a nearby chair. "I am certainly looking forward to it."


    "That''s one way to describe it," Molam muttered before standing up to offer the Mursa his hand. "Happy Festival of the Hero to you, Mursa Shang. How goes business?"


    "A bit limited, but don''t worry about it. I consider it an honor to have committed four of my wagons to your cause," the Mursa returned his handshake before sitting down. "Nevertheless, I believe my mursashu should be able to recoup that loss. Gyota has discovered quite the confectioner; the only limiting issue is whether we can preserve the goods for any lengthy duration."


    "Don''t speak as though you truly entered that in your ledger as a loss." Molam had no intention of letting the Mursa reframe their bargain as a favor. "You were more than well compensated considering you received a meeting with the Oracle. I delivered to you something the richest man in the world cannot buy."


    "Ahhh, of course. A loss in numbers, but finances can hardly calculate the desires of the psyche, yes?" Mursa Shang''s face became inscrutable, though he laid a friendly hand on Molam''s shoulder. "Is a deal not inherently two people walking away happier? I help you with something, and you help me with something. And so you have my gratitude, that you do! But now the issue of returning my people to Mur has taken an unexpected turn and I was hoping to discuss this with the Dao at length some other time."


    Molam frowned. What had the Oracle told the Mursa? Molam assumed it had to do with the Lost City of Mur, but what could Mursa Shang want from the Dao to warrant another discussion?


    Before he could ask, two Priestesses showed up. The younger one stepped forward with masked confusion, bowing to him. "Molam. We could not find the combatant scheduled to go next, but your name was written down as a backup registrant. If you are ready, we ask you to go down to the first floor''s preparation room."


    "Ah, the Madam did say you would be¡­ entertaining her." Mursa Shang looked up at the Priestesses, then back to Molam. "I look forward to seeing your match. Perhaps I should bet on you?" Spoken as though sincere if not for the tone.


    Molam did not rise to the bait. "What Mursa gambles on coin flips?"


    "Oh, I wouldn''t call you a coin flip," the Mursa responded. "Those are certainly easier to predict."


    "How flattering." Feeling the Madam''s gaze on him, Molam stood up and finished his tea. "I''m afraid I''ll only disappoint," he told the Mursa, "especially if the echo is as hungry as I am."


    Mursa Shang winked. "Don''t summon a Titled One, now."


    Molam snorted, then gave Madam Scarlette a stiff nod. "Madam Scarlette."


    "I''m looking forward to this," she gave him a smile, her eyes hidden behind her veil. "HuaLang Chamber will serve you something better than tieguanyin if you win."


    "I''m not sure I''m eager to go back," Molam replied as he parted ways with them, "And I probably can''t afford it."


    Upon leaving the room, Molam encountered Primrose, Shurra, Nettie, and the bearded Oasian with a greatsword coming up the stairs.


    "Molam!" Nettie greeted him enthusiastically with a wave. The clothes she wore remained largely the same as he saw last night, though the shoes seemed fresh and the white cloak had been cleaned.


    "We were delayed," Primrose informed him as Molam bent down to accept the Prodigy''s hug. Today, she wore her curly orange hair in a loosely-bound bundle that fell down to her back, decorated with her usual bright blue satem flowers. A purple dress similar to Madam Scarlette''s hugged Primrose''s body, but without the silver dashes. Knowing her, Molam suspected daggers and other blades strapped around her limbs, but a quick glance betrayed none of the well-hidden blades. "Some things happened and our young charge almost got burnt."


    "Net ¡ª I is sorry," the girl said out loud, then whispered into Molam''s ear, "Nettie saw a very interesting wok. Runes very similar to Kalle''s warming stones, but designed for cooking. Smokeless!"


    "And what did we learn?" The bearded Oasian sighed. He, too, largely wore the same clothes Molam remembered seeing him in yesterday: a simple jerkin, deep blue shirt, brown pants and knee-high boots. But he moved fluidly with the greatsword on his back; it never bumped into anything. Molam tried to not stare at the missing arm.


    Nettie stepped back with an eye roll, turning to the swordsman. "We should ask before we touch cooking things, Uncle Marty."


    "On that note, are you sure your fingers are fine?" Primrose knelt down to inspect Nettie''s hand.


    "Are fine," the girl said hastily, trying to pull away. "Want to watch Arena!"


    "You tried to touch a wok full of boiling oil," Primrose gave the girl a forehead flick, "Even masters of physical reinforcement would think twice. Come, we''re taking you to the infirmary so the Priestesses can make sure your fingers won''t fall off later."


    "Fingers can fall off?" The girl''s eyes widened.


    "They do if you touch hot things without thinking," Primrose told her, giving Molam a look. "Judging by your direction, it''s your turn to enter the Arena?"


    Molam nodded. "We can go down together."


    "Go quick, go quick!" The girl tried to run down the stairs, but Shurra and the Oasian held out their arms, barring her from falling down the steps. Nettie resorted to bouncing on her feet in place. "Need fingers to write runes!"


    Molam and Primrose caught up to the girl, thankful that the other two had prevented her from rushing off.


    Shurra said, "I think I''ll go watch Molam''s fight from the balcony."


    "I will join you so I can eat before my fight," the Oasian rumbled, his eyes glinting at Molam behind his bushy beard. "But I am equally interested."


    "Save some food for me then, Shurra," Primrose said, "I forgot to eat because of this one."


    When they parted ways, Molam asked Primrose on the way down the stairs, "Who''s that Oasian?"


    "Why? Are you worried about being replaced?"


    Molam sighed. "For the last time, I''m sorry I didn''t contact you for several weeks. I thought the Oracle would be more forthcoming."


    "Mmm." Primrose didn''t look at him, her gaze focused on the little girl running down the steps before them. "His name is Martyker. Master Ji allowed him to be close; apparently he and our little curious fingers here know each other from before."


    "They seem close from what I saw last night."


    "Well, we''re still strangers to her, in a way. Of course she would like to spend time with someone she knew from before." She paused, then added softly, "She''s quite taken with him. I can''t blame her, after¡­ everything she''s lost. I keep an eye on her, of course, but I must admit¡­ while I can protect her, he''s doing even more than that. I even overheard him tell her a bedtime story last night when I went to check up on her."


    "A bedtime story, hm?" Molam wondered idly what the story had been. "Has she ever asked you for one?"


    "A few times. But I''m a terrible storyteller."


    Reaching the first floor, they walked down a hall leading towards the Arena''s center. The infirmary was supposed to be close.


    "Aren''t you entering the Arena?" Primrose frowned, looking Molam up and down. "No sword? No bow and arrow?"Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    "Ah. Shurra dragged me here so quickly I forgot them in my room." And it was true. Both of them were in his room ¡ª in the Castle. Molam hadn''t thought he would need them in ZhiXia City. "I suppose I will need to make do."


    Primrose pulled a sheathed dagger out of her sleeve, pressing it into his hand. "It''s unlike you to be so woefully unprepared, Molam. I assume you know how to not cut yourself."


    "Well, what''s there to prepare for? I certainly don''t care if I win this or not. It''s your Madam who ¡ª"


    "Is that a child?"


    Molam and Primrose looked up at the outburst. A raven-haired Priestess was flagging them down, pointing to Nettie as she walked up, her pristine white robes fluttering. "Children are not allowed to enter the Arena! What are you thinking? What would you do if she got hurt?"


    Primrose relaxed, feeling Nettie cling onto her. She gave the girl a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Oh, we aren''t entering the Arena itself, Priestess. I was simply taking her to the infirmary."


    "Oh. I''ve seen you." The Priestess frowned, her thin eyebrows coming together on her porcelain-skin. "Did she throw up again? Regardless, that infirmary is for contestants. Can you imagine if every person came here asking for a quick fix, and then the Priestesses used up her aura and couldn''t help a contestant?" The Priestess walked up to them, looking from Molam to Primrose, her eyes lingering on the dagger in Molam''s hand. "Aren''t you the next contestant? Is that your preferred weapon?"


    Molam lowered the weapon. "I wouldn''t say preferred, but¡­"


    "Well, seeing as you are next, you shouldn''t dally. Get to the preparation room so you can inspect your weapon before your match." The Priestess turned to Primrose. "And you? I don''t believe you are a contestant. This area is for contestants and their supporters only."


    "I''m here to support him," Primrose responded quickly.


    "Then do that, but children are still not allowed here. If you''re going to support the contestant, then I''ll take the child back up to the third floor. My mentor is tending to the others in your group, and although she isn''t as skilled as Priestess Raella in the healing arts she can still give the child a look."


    Something weighed on the back of Molam''s thoughts. Coupled with Nettie''s sudden apprehension, Molam took a step forward as the Priestess approached, barring her from reaching Nettie. "Your mentor is on the third floor?"


    The Priestess hesitated. "Yes?"


    "Primrose, blade." Molam drew the dagger from its sheath, pointing it straight at the Priestess. "Who are you?"


    "I''m a Priestess of Sanctuary," the Priestess'' smile had gone frigid. "Do you not see this white robe ¡ª"


    Primrose struck, sliding in with daggers flashing through the air. The blades ripped through the white robe, tearing it apart as Molam picked Nettie up into his arms and retreated several steps. Primrose''s two quick strikes were quickly followed up by throwing a dagger straight through, aiming for the heart; the next moment, she had retreated backwards right next to Molam, her eyes blazing with purple aura as she pulled a replacement short knife out of a sleeve.


    Half of the tattered white cloth fell to the ground; the other half had been pinned to the wall by Primrose''s thrown blade. The woman standing there seemed unfazed as she plucked the weapon out of the wall, examining its handle and edge. Her voice changed, from the polite and warm tone of the Priestess earlier to a soft-spoken drawl with an ice-cold edge. "What gave me away?"


    Molam held onto Nettie''s hand as he backed away slowly with Primrose, his eyes never leaving the woman in front of him. "Once paired, Priestesses don''t separate during their mentorship."


    "I see, I see¡­ an unfortunate matter, then. Roxxa probably couldn''t given her size, but Rei probably could have¡­?" The woman seemed to murmur to herself as she balanced the dagger in her hand. "This is a good blade, Primrose." She twirled the blade in her hand, shifting her grip constantly as though it were just a toy. After taking a few practice slices, she looked up at Molam and Primrose with newly violet eyes. "I''ll keep it and allow you to live if you walk away right now."


    They had backed to the corner of the corridor, and Molam shouted to Primrose, "Run! To Master Ji!" He scooped up Nettie and ran for the Arena, the entrance so close he could see the light. A commotion came from behind him, but Molam didn''t turn around to see if Primrose followed suit ¡ª the moment he heard the woman say the Tempest and the OutCast''s names told him all he needed to know about who she was.


    A Titled One of the Empire.


    But before he could exit the corridor, the woman walked right through the wall in front of him, far too quickly for Molam to even slow down.


    "And you ¡ª you''re the Oracle''s vessel, aren''t you?"


    The blade flew through the air ¡ª Primrose''s hand shoved him aside and the weapon buried itself into Molam''s shoulder, just missing his heart. Primrose dashed right past him, daggers attacking from two different directions. The woman''s hands snatched Primrose by her elbow and wrist. Primrose delivered a swift upwards knee without hesitation and the woman dropped her own elbow downwards to block it. A contest of strength saw the woman roll backwards, pulling Primrose with her and carrying the momentum into a backwards tumble that resulted in her kicking Primrose out behind her and into the Arena.


    The woman stood up, brushing off dirt and advanced on Molam as he backed off, trying to ignore the piercing pain in his shoulder. Before Molam could react, the woman stood in front of him and yanked the dagger out of his shoulder. He yelped at the sudden pain and she took his momentary lapse to pull Nettie out of his grasp.


    The girl struggled, and the woman passed a hand cloaked in violet aura over the girl''s face. Nettie''s eyes rolled over in her head and she fell limp into the woman''s arms.


    "Nettie!" The magnitude of the problem had become fully apparent to Molam. The Empire had sent a Titled One into ZhiXia City to capture the Prodigy.


    "And you, the Oracle''s vessel." Her borrowed blade stabbed upwards, wrapped in her violet aura. Then red and orange flames erupted around Molam''s frame, causing her to leap backwards in alarm. "A Domain?"


    A wave of aura flooded the corridor, causing the woman to stumble. "Ah, blasted timing," she muttered while straightening up. The color within the corridor changed from violet to deep blue. "He''s found me."


    Water rushed through the hall from behind Molam, a tidal wave surging through the small space to push him forward. The wall of water coalesced around Molam in a roar, then forced all of them out of the hallway into the Arena.


    Molam sputtered on the ground, sizzling with steam as the fiery Domain rapidly dried his drenched clothes, the wound in his shoulder itching painfully. By the time Molam looked up, he saw Master Ji barreling down on the woman as she desperately stayed out of his reach.


    Streams of water trickled in from everywhere; the sky, the ground, and even from what Molam suspected was the Arena''s lavatories. A pulling gesture from Master Ji saw the water collect into his hand, forming a swirling ball which he threw at the woman. It expanded in midair and exploded, drenching the woman and Nettie in water.


    The Whale clenched his fist; the water around the woman''s legs froze. But not enough; the blade flashed and the ice shattered, just in time for the woman to leap out of the Whale''s reach once again.


    "Molam."


    Molam whirled to his side, seeing Primrose walk towards him, her eyes also on the fight. "Are you all right?"


    "I''m fine. She knocked the wind out of me, but it''s no injury." She stopped at the boundary of the Domain, her glowing eyes looking over it uneasily. "So you can use your aura again."


    The red Domain shrank and petered out. Perhaps the feather believed he was no longer in trouble?


    Primrose lingered at the edge. "May I enter?"


    Molam raised an eyebrow. "Only if you don''t harbor ill intent."


    "There are times I do feel like killing you, yes." Primrose replied sweetly, then walked towards Molam. "Why were you so evasive last night when I asked you if you could use your aura again?"


    "Would you believe me if I say this is a last resort?" Molam responded. Truthful still. "Don''t expect me to be able to use this lightly."


    "I imagine it must be like having just recovered a torn muscle." She stood next to him, stretching as the two of them watched the Whale contain the woman who had pretended to be a Priestess.


    Master Ji stood in the center of the stage. He had pulled in more water from the surroundings to soak the entire Arena, and clearly felt no more need to personally run after his quarry. His Domain gave their attacker little room to maneuver; she had tried to run through one of the Arena¡¯s main entrances, but found the hallways filled floor to ceiling with water and been forced to turn back. Now, the Whale slowly trapped their attacker from afar, enclosing the space she could go and reducing it as he went.


    Primrose seemed entranced by the fight. "That must be the HushFang. Why isn''t she just walking through the ice like earlier through the wall?"


    "It must have limitations," Molam massaged his shoulder, feeling the itching fade away. "Perhaps she can''t keep her hold on Nettie otherwise? Master Ji is being very patient as well; I assume he''s taking his time and limiting the force of his attacks in case he injures Nettie." The scenery playing out in front of him reminded Molam of the time the Red Army''s soldiers had cornered him in the Slumbering Forest. If the soldiers then hadn''t also been afraid of injuring the egg, Molam doubted he would have survived the encounter otherwise.


    Wisps of steam floated into his vision; Molam looked down to see water congregating all over the Arena''s stage, hissing at the edges of the feather''s Domain. The HushFang no longer allowed herself to touch the ground for long, dashing swiftly through the pooling water as tendrils of water and ice threatened to capture her.


    But the Whale had lulled her into a false sense of security. A pool just in front of her flash froze and the slippery patch caused the HushFang to lose her balance ¡ª in the next moment she lost her footing Master Ji lobbed another ball of exploding water, trapping her in ice. Before she could break free, more water crept up her icy prison, but not before the HushFang brought her blade close to the unconscious Nettie''s neck.


    "Kymja." The Whale of ZhiXia''s eyes, usually stoic, carried murderous weight. His soft-spoken voice carried a hard edge, rumbling unnaturally in Molam''s ears with the heavy weight of self-restraint. "I would like to respect the Festival''s traditions. If you let go of the Prodigy, I will allow you to leave unscathed."


    "The Whale of ZhiXia." The HushFang smiled back, but a taut look in her face showed visible wariness. "It doesn''t ring as well as your old Title, does it?"


    More water pooled into Master Ji''s hand. "My patience is limited."


    "Why are you stopping me from bringing the Prodigy back to her home?"


    The water collected in his hand churned in a raging torrent. "The home the Empire destroyed?"


    "Don''t give me that. I wasn''t there, but we all saw the Bright Night. Flangel the Wise, in his infinite wisdom, destroyed Techoria alongside the SunFlower. The Prince only wanted to talk, and yet ¡ª"


    The Whale gestured forward; the water in his hand streaked forward in a jet aimed straight at the HushFang''s head. Violet engulfed the HushFang, causing the ice to look like a purple amethyst; the jet of water passed harmlessly through. The wall behind her was not so immaterial and the water stream pierced right through, leaving only a tiny hole in the stone.


    The ice broke and the HushFang dashed for the wall, her violet aura surging forward. Again, spikes of ice emerged but slowed down when they encountered the HushFang''s Domain, turning into easy footholds for her to leap on as she vaulted up the Arena''s walls, still carrying an unconscious Nettie.


    Water roared out of the fourth and fifth floors in a torrent, catching the HushFang in midair and bringing her crashing back down. It seemed for a moment that the water would separate Nettie from the HushFang''s grasp, only for it to fail when her aura flared again, expelling the water from her surroundings in a burst of faded violet. Master Ji pounded an open palm with a closed fist and the water in the Arena froze; but this time, the HushFang''s small Domain did not dissipate, preventing her drenched figure from being imprisoned yet again. Primrose took a step closer to Molam as well ¡ª ice had formed outside of his fiery Domain, crawling upwards in fractal tendrils.


    Molam looked around. The Martial Arena''s interior had been encased in ice, and audience members that hadn''t yet escaped were finishing fleeing the stands. Icicles grew out of the walls, each sharp edge pointing straight at the HushFang.


    "You use a lot more ice than I expected," the HushFang observed from within her violet Domain. "Are you sure about this? You might hit the Prodigy."


    The Whale hesitated with his hands apart. "Thank you for the reminder."


    Next moment, he clapped his hands together. Jets of water shot out of each icicle aimed straight at the violet Domain, crashing against its perimeters and flowing down. But as the water splashed against the Domain, it began solidifying into ice. In mere moments, hundreds of shots turned into a ball of ice encasing the HushFang within. When combined with the violet aura flaring inside, it looked as though Master Ji had trapped a storm of purple fire.


    "A good solution. If the HushFang wants to leave that, she must leave Nettie behind." Molam nodded to himself with approval. If Master Ji couldn''t safely tear Nettie away from the HushFang''s grasp, he could force the HushFang to abandon her. Seeing the threat contained, Molam and Primrose walked forward to Master Ji as he kept the HushFang imprisoned, the ball of ice shrinking around the trapped Titled One within.


    "Molam!" He looked up to see Shurra and the Oasian called Martyker drop down from the third floor. A light step later, Madam Scarlette also descended in. "I wanted to jump down immediately, but we had to help the Priestesses evacuate the citizens."


    "Looks like everyone''s here," he greeted, looking over the group. "No Mursa Shang? I''d have thought he would be interested in making me owe him a favor."


    Madam Scarlette answered. "He evacuated with the others, saying he needed to ensure his mursashu were safe."


    It made sense, but part of Molam wondered if it wasn''t a convenient excuse for the Mursa to disappear just when the Empire came calling. "I would have thought you also evacuated with the rest."


    "And miss this?" Shurra raised her eyebrow at him while nodding to the purple ball. Everyone stared transfixed as Kymja fought Master Ji''s imprisoning ice. The HushFang was clearly attacking it from within, but the Whale did not let up from layering on new layers of ice each time the prison formed a new crack.


    A crash. Molam whirled around to see the icicles around the Arena dropping down to the ground as the red Domain flared out, encompassing him and the ones gathered around him. Next moment, a gust of green wind pressed flatly down upon the Domain protecting them. The feather around his wrist seared as the ground beneath their feet cracked; stalagmites erupted elsewhere within the Arena''s stage, but none from beneath their feet or in the area directly around Master Ji.


    As the Whale turned to ensure they were safe, he doubled back with his head swung up; next moment, he shoved Shurra away from him into Molam''s Domain. A large shadow crashed down upon him with its weapon swinging; Master Ji caught the downward strike with an arm. The sheer force of the blow caused the water on the ground to dissipate into a fine mist as spidery cracks appeared on the walls.


    Molam saw the Whale had blocked the blow at the weapon''s shaft while catching the Northern Warrior''s low punch with his free hand. The struggle of strength became a struggle of footwork as the Northerner tried to prevent Master Ji from tripping her. It seemed she remained unwilling to give up her advantageous threat with her poleaxe shoving him down. But whether through trickery or accident, the Northerner''s boot slipped on water; Master Ji moved immediately, twisting her weapon to the side to grab her shoulder, throwing a punch straight at her jaw.


    Thunder rumbled through the air and the Whale leapt backwards. With a deafening crack, yellow lightning struck where he had been standing to explode the ground in a shower of ice, mud, and rock. The Northerner had regained her balance, if splattered with mud. Before them, a tanned man yanked a harpoon out of the ground where the lightning had struck. Nodding at the newcomer, the Northerner walked over to the ball of ice, brandishing her weapon.


    "The Traitor," Shurra breathed murderously.


    Molam''s eyes widened. The Traitor?


    Roxxa the OutCast?


    When Roxxa raised her poleaxe to smash Kymja''s prison, water surged in a tidal wave towards Roxxa from Master Ji''s location. Before the wave could crash into its intended targets, a green swirl drew the water into an upward spout, diverting the water into the sky. Before the water could be blown elsewhere, the Whale snapped his fingers and the waterspout split in three while losing its cohesion, the water crashing back down like a small waterfall.


    "Molam."


    He turned to look at Primrose, surprised by the urgency of her tone. Following her gaze upwards, Molam locked gazes with the green eyes of the person levitating above the arena, her fan held at the ready. The eyes narrowed.


    The Tempest.


    A loud blow followed by a crack shattered the ice prison, releasing the HushFang from within.


    "Took the three of you long enough," the HushFang muttered as she kicked her away through the remaining ice, carrying Nettie in her arms. "Was Desmi too busy flirting to respond to my message?"


    "Don''t be like that, my beloved Kymja. I came for you as soon as I heard your message." The tanned man flicked a dagger with a black blade to the HushFang. "Your fang."


    Desmi. Molam knew that name, and his Title. The Islander.


    "Save the lover''s quarrel for later," the OutCast took a stance, her eyes firmly locked onto the Whale of ZhiXia. "You forget who we stand in front of."


    "By the sands," Martyker swore as he pulled his greatsword from his back. "Four Titled Ones of the Empire." His sword gleamed, held in front of him by his single hand with his body shifted in a backwards slant, a stance that allowed him freedom of movement while ensuring any assailant must get past his sword. "The echoing sands hint at a tumultuous horizon."


    Molam had no idea what that meant, but he silently agreed.

 Sixth Interlude

    Excerpt from Those Who Serve, by Scholar Tory from the Fallen Star Pavilion


    <hr>


    Where does one start with Ji WuMing, now better known as the Whale of ZhiXia?


    You will notice I have left his entry for last in this compendium because of his curious status: the first Titled One to have served the Prince, and the only Titled One who has defected from the Empire of the Sun.


    But first, some context:


    There are no records of his origins except for the day he joined the Red Army as an orphan in the year 1330 of the Sun. I have found an archived recruitment slip where the doctor who interviewed him for the entrance exam determined "despite his size, the boy must have been no older than ten Sorrows" at the time. When asked why he wanted to join the Red Army, the stated reason was for food. The doctor notes on the recruitment slip that he only agreed to let the young Ji WuMing join based on his strong build and stature, reasoning that the boy would later become a solid soldier for the Red Army.


    Ji WuMing then spent the few years achieving internal and external battle merits during the ongoing efforts by the Empire to reclaim territories lost during the Fracturing. These merits enabled him to easily climb the Red Army''s ranks, eventually achieving his first Title when he became Division Commander of the Empire''s First Division in just eight Sorrows. At an estimated eighteen years old, this makes him one of a handful of people to have achieved a Title before they were twenty years of age.


    The Empire''s rapid reclamation of territories had put the remaining Free Cities into a state of unease, but they were divided as to how to respond. In the year 1339 of the Sun, the Frost Saint emerged from a tribal moot as the Mother of Hjornheim. In a proclamation to the remaining Free Cities, she revealed she was acting as the Oracle''s vessel to put a stop to the Empire''s ambitions in reaching Heaven. And as we all know from documented history, this resulted in the events of the Frost Saint''s Rebellion.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    It was during this time when Ji WuMing was named Commander of the Red Army by the Prince. He accompanied the Prince to the Northern Plains with three Divisions with a goal for pacifying the Northern Tribes. The records indicate that fighting broke out before the scheduled peace talk when the Spear and Shield of Oasis appeared with a regiment of Sand Spears to join the Frost Saint.


    It was during this time that the Empire City of Kamisukawa declared its intention to break away from the Empire. Based on the Red Army''s records, the Prince engaged in battle with the Spear and Shield of Oasis, killing the two of them and left command of the fighting forces in Ji WuMing''s hands while he personally went to Kamisukawa.


    During the next few days, Ji WuMing negotiated a temporary truce with the Frost Saint and the Northern Tribes, pulling the Red Army back to Crescent City. It is unknown why he did so when the prevailing sentiment was that the Red Army was in a position to crush the Northern Tribes immediately after the Prince routed the Sand Spears. After the Red Army was settled down in the City, he left command to his aides and headed for Kamisukawa on the day of the infamous Massacre.


    Many Scholars think the Massacre of Kamisukawa directly instigated the clash between the Prince of the Empire and Ji WuMing. The timing of their clash lends full credence to this theory.


    A report from a Scholar of the time described their battle as "an inland typhoon that raged across half of the Central Valley." For those who find the claim incredulous, the results of the fight can still be seen today on our maps: the Ash Canyon, a near-straight scar cleaved straight through Ash Mesa, leads straight to the Concave Shoal where Ji WuMing was defeated just outside the delta of the River Ash near HaiFeng City. (Note: the "Ash" in these names refers to the literal ash covering these areas after Kamisukawa went up in flames. Yes, the Scholars of the time had very little naming sense, but the names stuck.)


    Despite his defeat, Ji WuMing was not captured or killed by the Prince. Instead, a credible story from HaiFeng City says that the Prince brought Ji WuMing to the best healer in the City and paid for his treatment before leaving.


    A year after this defeat, Ji WuMing reappeared in ZhiXia City, appointed as its defending Titled One by the Oracle and given the Title he now holds: the Whale of ZhiXia. While the residents of ZhiXia City were initially wary to accept the former Commander into their lives, enough decades have gone by that he is now a well-known and respected figure within the City.


    Scholars have debated one question for decades: Why was Ji WuMing spared? The Massacre of Kamisukawa showed the Prince''s lack of tolerance for betrayal. Is it not betrayal that Ji WuMing abandoned his post as Commander of the Red Army to attack the Prince himself?

 Ch 48: Priorities

    So long as there is blood to be shed, human nature demands: more.


    ¡ª Excerpt from Meditations, by the Red Emperor


    <hr>


    Sanctuary, the Great Bonfire


    Though there was no particular name for the Festival''s great bonfire, Komura preferred to think of the main one in each City as the Great Bonfire. Some larger households liked to have their own smaller bonfires in their homes, and certainly not all of them could be referred to as "the great bonfire." Or so Komura reasoned.


    This would be her fifty-eighth Festival. Of course, Komura couldn''t remember every single one of them, but she could never forget her first Festival. The vivid memories of sights and sounds, of smiles and laughter, of food and lanterns. The grip of her mentor Priestess Ori''s hand, gentle and warm, as she walked Komura through a different City in a different time.


    "Do you know why the Festival of the Hero is important, Komura?"


    "The food."


    "Aha, that might be important to you, maybe."


    "What can be more important than food, Priestess Ori?"


    "Well, what happens if there is no food, Komura?"


    "I would be sad."


    "People would be sad indeed. And when people are sad, they start to blame each other for their sadness. Some might even think that there must be food, but others are keeping it for themselves, and do bad things."


    "So food is the most important."


    "Ah-ha, not quite. The most important thing is the people, coming together as a whole. Bonding, trusting¡­ understanding that while we may share differences, no matter what, we are all closer than we think. That we all share the same past and walk towards the same future." Priestess Ori always liked to squeeze Komura''s hand when saying things like this. "Though I''ll admit that realizing we share a need for food helps us understand we might not be too different. Whenever you want to bond with someone, eat with them. Remember that."


    Perhaps this was why Komura toiled, despite her age. The Festival represented something that had been passed down through the ages. It was more than some silly tradition ¡ª it was a binding reminder to the people that once, they had all shared the same suffering during the Endless Night.


    The children wouldn''t understand. How could they? Moreover, Komura preferred that they did not, at least, for now. Let them enjoy their right to naivety and innocence. But to ensure they did not think any of this to be unimportant, every Festival should always be a dazzling experience for all. Precisely because each Festival would be someone''s first.


    The teenagers ¡ª well, Komura had learned to lower her expectations over the decades. Old enough to know, but not experienced enough to understand. It took a delicate patience with them, one that understood they were taking their first steps on the journey from childhood innocence to understanding¡ªthe knowledge that the bright world they were born into came from the Eternal Night. And Komura could not expect them to be happy when learning about the underlying darkness.


    But the adults, and the older ones ¡ª they would know. The ones who had really, truly seen the difficulties of life. There were always the occasional ones that blamed others for their misfortunes, and sometimes it was even true. Komura understood that sometimes people did horrible, terrible things to their fellows. But that made the Festival''s core message all the more important.


    Priestess Ori''s voice surfaced again. "We either face the darkness together or individually become lost."


    Looking at the Great Bonfire and the rings of people holding hands, moving and dancing in the warmth of the flames, Komura believed it could happen. She saw the dream Priestess Ori had shared with her; of people helping each other for a better tomorrow, of looking past what was different to focus on what they all shared.


    It could happen. It still could.


    And yet, Priestess Ori''s dream seemed as far away and unattainable as when Komura first donned on her white Priestess robes. Half a century later, the Empire of the Sun still marched, the Free Cities still squabbled, and the children still needed someone to step up.


    Komura felt it in her bones; she was running out of time to make Priestess Ori''s ¡ª no, also her own ¡ª dream a reality. Her meager attainments in aura would only delay the inevitable, and deep down Komura grew weary. To think some of the Titled Ones had seen multiple centuries. She would never understand how they did so without complaint.


    A disturbance in the air shook Komura from her reverie. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled at unexpected change in the Whale of ZhiXia''s Domain ¡ª what had always been a smooth flow of aura covering ZhiXia City and lapping at the edges of Sanctuary had become a roiling, seething torrent.


    Looking around, she saw the other Priestesses overseeing the Great Bonfire and even some of the Festival-goers had felt it too. They all looked in the direction of the Martial Arena, where the Whale of ZhiXia was supposed to be overseeing the Martial event. What had happened?


    A young boy yelped ¡ª Komura saw the water in his cup flowing up and outwards. He wasn¡¯t the only one. Komura saw it join other streams of water in the air, repeating everywhere in the vicinity; she imagined all of the water in ZhiXia City was responding similarly, streaking towards the Martial Arena.


    "Priestess Komura."


    Priestess Shantayla''s shy voice always reminded her of a mouse. Komura looked around then recoiled with surprise. The younger Priestess''s face, normally tan with rosy cheeks, now blanched. She looked petrified.


    "You must have felt that." Komura tried keeping her voice gentle; she couldn''t imagine what the aura-sensitive Priestess must be experiencing. "Can you share with me?"


    Priestess Shantayla looked down, shuffling her feet. Her shoulders shivered. "Outrage," she whispered. "Fury. Wrath."


    Komura felt her breath leave her. The Whale of ZhiXia, angry? Who could have done that?


    Moreover, who would even dare disrupt the Festival?


    Another Priestess walked up to them. "Priestess Komura."


    "Priestess Dayne." Komura nodded in greeting, noting the stressed tone in Priestess Dayne''s voice. "This is my first Festival at Sanctuary in several decades, but I suppose that isn''t expected?"


    The Priestess shook her head. "I''ve never felt that before. Priestess Lalafena said she felt another Domain attempt to establish itself, but that would imply another Titled One is here." The idea lingered briefly in the air. "I haven''t dismissed the thought, but for that to happen, it would mean¡ª"


    A strong gust of wind blew through pillars and weaved through the entrance of Sanctuary, pulling back the hoods of many of the Priestesses. The flames of the Great Bonfire flickered, but did not go out. As the Priestesses looked at each other, the earth trembled. Lightning struck, and thunder rumbled moments later from the Arena''s direction as Master Ji''s Domain dissipated.


    Foreign aura flooded Komura''s senses like a cacophony of confusing scents and colors. And though no new Domain came through, even Komura could sense several distinct colors of aura working together in layers to suppress the Whale of ZhiXia''s Domain.


    Komura and Priestess Dayne shared a look, then Priestess Lalafena walked up to them, barking her orders.


    "The people need to be secured. Get them to Sanctuary and protect them. Master Ji would avoid using his full strength inside the city, but we don''t know who he is fighting." The brown-haired Priestess delivered her instructions clearly, then pressed her lips together. "We will need to assume it is the Empire and act accordingly. There are three¡­ no, possibly four of them, and we run the risk of Master Ji being forced to use all of the water in the vicinity."


    Her tone left no room for question or debate. Komura and the other Priestesses nodded, and they began wading into the crowd around the Great Bonfire to direct the people towards Sanctuary in an orderly line.


    It seems our dream will need to wait a while longer, Priestess Ori.


    <hr>


    Martial Arena


    "Stay within Molam''s Domain," Master Ji commanded them in a firm tone. He positioned himself between Molam''s group and the Empire''s four Titled Ones, the muscles on his bare arms flexing in anticipation. The tattoo of the whale swam and the image of the tiger bared its fangs.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Yellow, orange, green, and purple gazes turned onto the Whale the moment he spoke, their owners falling silent. Molam froze at the intensity of their scrutiny from even within the protective perimeter of the fiery Domain. The others near him seemed to have stopped breathing as well. Shurra took a step back from the edge ¡ª no, she was forced to take a step back; the red Domain surrounding them had shrunk by at least an arm''s length.


    "The Whale of ZhiXia." Roxxa greeted Master Ji with a slow, tense step forward, looking as though she walked underwater. "The Empire has been charged with the Prodigy''s well-being, and our friend Kymja is always¡­ overzealous in her activities. After we collect our friend and the Prodigy, Sanctuary will receive a full apology from the Empire."


    The fiery red edges of the spirit''s Domain convulsed in violent jolts as though squeezed by an unrelenting force; Molam could not See it, but he could only guess at the sheer battle for control over the Arena''s space outside of his borrowed Domain. He murmured a silent prayer to God Thraw hoping for Master Ji''s success.


    The Whale responded simply. "No."


    Crack.


    Molam almost flinched, looking wildly towards the sound. A stalagmite on the Arena''s floor split and crumbled. One by one, each of the hundreds of stalagmites and leftover icicles began disintegrating and collapsing to the ground.


    Then everything happened at once.


    A green gust encircled the falling debris, blowing them towards the group in Molam''s Domain. The Whale brought a hand up towards them; the falling icicles melted into water, then coalesced around the rest of the airborne debris to drag them to the side.


    The OutCast rushed forward, low to the ground despite her size. The moment she bent down, Desmi''s harpoon shot past where Roxxa''s shoulder had been, aiming straight at the Whale''s head. Master Ji sidestepped the projectile and snagged it from the air before it could fly past him and into Molam''s Domain, preventing it from injuring anyone within.


    But touching the harpoon sent yellow sparks streaking up Master Ji''s arm. The momentary paralysis gave Roxxa an opening for an upward cleave of her poleaxe, intending to sever the Whale''s hand at the wrist. Stepping inward, the Whale tackled Roxxa with a brutal shove of his shoulder, knocking the larger woman to the side before rearing the harpoon for a stab at her heart. The harpoon sparked again and Master Ji grunted, dropping it onto the ground to shake his numb arm while his free arm raised upwards, pulling with it a thin veil of water that instantly froze into a sheet of ice. But before the shield of ice could fully form, a green gale shattered it, forcing Master Ji to block Rei''s follow-up attack with his bare arms. Emerald wind cut at reinforced skin, doing little damage but shredding Master Ji''s clothes and lacerating the ground beneath him. Desmi made a pulling motion, summoning his harpoon from afar, but Master Ji stomped down on it to keep it in place.


    Roxxa wasted no time with a low kick towards Master Ji''s legs while he was occupied with the combined attacks of the other two. Her leg connected into his shin, but did not move the Whale. Wincing visibly, she slammed her poleaxe downwards, burying the dagger-end into the ground to hook the harpoon free from under Ji''s foot. She then flicked it back to Desmi as she retreated, bringing up a clenched fist. The gesture brought stalagmites erupting from the ground near Ji, lethal tips aimed at his exposed body.


    Most broke harmlessly against the Whale''s skin ¡ª he broke off the sharp edge of one that came close to his neck without looking. In a smooth arc, he launched the stalagmite''s broken tip up at Rei and ended the movement with a finger pointing straight at Desmi. Rei brought out the flat of her fan to block the thrown projectile while Roxxa stepped in to parry the lethal water for Desmi; both were knocked back as a result, with Roxxa crashing into the Arena''s walls and Rei sent flying. When Master Ji took a step forward, Desmi held up his harpoon, threatening to launch it while yellow lightning sparked from its tip. The move was enough to give Master Ji pause, making him unable to follow up on his advantage.


    "Sorry, Ji. This may feel unfair, but it is the nature of things." Desmi leapt up to the second floor, affording himself a position to launch his harpoon on the Arena no matter where Ji went. He spoke in a fast tone, as though the thoughts came out of his head before he could fully form them. "May I call you Ji, by the way? I don''t mean any disrespect by it, it''s just such an easy name to say. No response? Well, my apologies, Whale of ZhiXia, but the Prodigy comes with us. I''ll admit I couldn''t fully believe Ruskru when he said four of us were necessary, and now I see why. Two would definitely not be enough, and even the three of us might not be able to fight you normally¡­ but we can contain you."


    The crumbled walls of the Arena were roughly shoved aside. Standing up, Roxxa dusted off her clothing. "So this is the Whale of ZhiXia," she said again with a grudging tone of admiration, then coughed and fanned away the dust, bowing her head slightly in respect. Her glowing orange eyes never looked away from Ji. "It is an honor. Suppressing all of us at the same time. Your stories hardly give you justice."


    Master Ji answered neither of them, looking upwards as Kymja vaulted up to the fourth floor of the Arena with Nettie in tow. He pointed a finger, then was forced to sidestep when Desmi''s electrified harpoon shot through the air. And yet his jet of water aimed true. Molam could see it would pierce Kymja mid-leap, until Rei dropped down to deflect it with her fan. The water flattened into ice against the fan''s metal frame, forcing the Tempest towards the HushFang. A torrent of water crashed over the top of the Arena, shoving Kymja off the wall and towards Rei.


    Roxxa dashed towards Molam''s Domain, her orange gaze fixated upon them. The fiery dome retreated even further. Bounding right towards the edge, Roxxa pressed low to the ground at the edge of Molam¡¯s Domain, bringing back her poleaxe to strike. Then she flinched and teetered backwards, narrowly dodging a jet of water as it shot past where her face would have been. Master Ji leapt close with a fist that Roxxa sidestepped, retreating nimbly out of his reach. She did not linger within the vicinity, backing fully out of the range of his fists, but Master Ji looked up again, his attention elsewhere now that she was too far to attack the red Domain.


    Far above, a blast of wind blew apart the ice and water threatening to engulf Rei and Kymja still carrying Nettie under an arm. Another wave of the fan brought Kymja and Nettie back to the wall. When Master Ji raised his arm towards them, Roxxa rushed forward once more, ducking under the Whale''s grasp and aiming straight for Molam.


    The waterfall spilling over the Arena stopped, with the HushFang shaking off the excess water and leaping to the next floor. Nearby, the Whale had grabbed Roxxa by her ankle, dragging her off balance. The Northerner hopped on her free leg, unable to reach Molam, then looked back at her captor. Without warning, she scrunched up her body, pulling herself towards Master Ji using her trapped ankle as leverage, her weapon swinging forth.


    He responded by dragging her ankle upwards, the movement pulling Roxxa completely off balance. She fell downwards, kicking upwards with her free leg as she adjusted her swing to aim for Master Ji''s own. But the moment she turned, she saw his foot kick upwards, straight towards her face, far too late for her to dodge.


    The Islander''s yellow aura crackled throughout the air and the Whale of ZhiXia''s body stiffened before the kick could land. Taking advantage of Master Ji''s momentary incapacitation, Roxxa went for a swift strike with her weapon towards the Whale''s head. But it went awry as the incompleted kick stomped down and shifted his balance; the weapon glanced off his shoulder instead. Recovering her own balance, Roxxa pulled her ankle out of his grasp and retreated a healthy distance from Ji while he shook off the effects of Desmi''s attack.


    Shurra made to move, but Primrose and Scarlette held her back.


    "Don''t," Primrose whispered. "You can''t See the sheer amount of aura clashing for dominance outside." She shook her head, "We are only alive because of Molam''s Domain."


    The fight between the four Titled Ones continued unabated all around them, falling into a familiar pattern. Kymja would try to escape with Nettie, supported by Rei. Water would pull Kymja back down from afar, but Roxxa would rush Molam''s group during this time to force Ji to act in close quarters combat, supported by Desmi from the third floor with attacks the Whale could not shrug off.


    "There must be a way," Shurra said with gritted teeth, her eyes fixing hostility and rage upon the OutCast. "We need to help him fight! This has become a standoff. What are we doing here, cowering like newborn chicks?"


    "There''s much to be said about not acting helpless," Madam Scarlette nodded. Molam did not want to respond to her outer laid-back manner; he felt her gaze on her from behind that veil. Martyker paced restlessly at the edge of the Domain, his sword grip tightening visibly. The Madam added, "It would be best to act while we can, before our dear Whale drowns ZhiXia City."


    But it didn''t seem to be a standoff in Molam''s eyes. The cycle of moves would change with each iteration, as each side tested the extent of the other''s capabilities.


    Master Ji attempted another bid for the escaping Kymja. Predictably, Roxxa immediately came close to threaten their group. But it seemed Master Ji had also caught on; pointing downwards from the second floor, a small puddle of water locked the OutCast''s legs to the ground with ice. He continued bounding upwards, pivoting through streaks of lightning, dodging the harpoon hidden in the falling storm. When he broke through the Islander''s attack, he dug one hand into the Arena''s wall to keep himself from falling and brought up his free arm to block the wall of wind shoving him downwards. But Kymja nearly crested the highest floor and Master Ji had no choice but to abandon defense; he directed another wave of water as it swamped Kymja''s movements, dragging her away from the edge. The Tempest''s wind forced him down as well, pushing his hand into digging a straight line through the wall.


    A loud crack signaled Roxxa freeing herself from Ji''s ice. In one leap, her weapon slashed downwards at them. Martyker met it with his greatsword, and their weapons clashed in a furious spark that keened angrily in the Arena. The blow sent Martyker staggering backwards two paces; Roxxa advanced.


    Master Ji charged in, the impact of his shoulder slamming Roxxa off her feet. Without wasting a breath, he looked back up and gestured to drag Kymja down again with water, making the Arena''s balconies and walls slick.


    The iteration changed again, with the Whale attempting another angle of attack only to be unable to fully break through their formation before being forced to defend Molam again.


    "Molam?" Shurra looked at him. The same look she had given him when he had told her to be patient, that he would let her know when it was time to step up for a fight.


    But Molam shook his head. While this was certainly a situation he couldn''t smooth out with words, Shurra would die if they stepped into this. "This isn''t something we can be involved in."


    "But you have a Domain!" Shurra rounded upon him, her eyes glistening with frustration. "You could join this!"


    Molam shook his head. "I can''t use aura the way you hope I can."


    "Shurra." Primrose stepped up for him, as he hoped, "Molam is telling the truth. We don''t understand his injury, but this ¡ª" she gestured at the flaming dome around them, "¡ª this must be taxing him already just to maintain."


    Shurra turned around without a word. Primrose gave Molam a look of apology for Shurra. Molam clenched his teeth, trying to think.


    "I should have kept Mursa Shang," Madam Scarlette said, "Even if fighting is not his specialty, just another Titled One should be able to disrupt their formation."


    But did it need to be? The question leapt into Molam''s mind. Three of them contained Ji''s movements, but only barely. If they could disrupt the formation for just even a moment¡­


    "First things first. We move closer," Molam declared as the Whale made another leap after Kymja. "The least we can do is minimize the distance Master Ji needs to cover and not tire him out." He moved without waiting for their acknowledgement; they moved with him as a group, walking towards the area where Kymja still tried for the roof. She had given up on running into the Arena itself, having found the hallways swamped with water. Far above, a small lake of water seemed suspended in the air above the Arena. The Tempest was attempting to control the amount of water getting into the Arena in between her work protecting the HushFang''s ascent.


    "Let''s revisit what we currently know," Molam said as they walked close to the Sage''s Mirror, trying to avoid flinching when the fighting got too close. He saw Master Ji give him a curt nod of acknowledgement as they walked closer. "Their strategy is simple but effective. The HushFang runs away with Nettie while three of them prevent Master Ji from leaving. If he forces his way out, they threaten to kill us." His voice lowered. "If we disrupt them at the right time, Master Ji should have an opening."


    "That sounds more like you," Shurra clapped a hand on his shoulder. "What do we do?"


    "I wish I had time to listen to what you two can do," Molam glanced at Martyker and Madam Scarlette, "but we don''t have time. At the very least, reinforce for defense. And because they can listen as well, you''re going to need to trust me on the fly. Now."


    He timed it just as Ji blocked Roxxa from reaching them again, shouting at Ji and pointing up. "Master Ji, shove the OutCast towards us, then attack the Tempest!"

 Ch 49: Interception

    We all sell our souls in the end.


    How many get a fair price?


    ¡ª Excerpt from Meditations, by the Red Emperor


    <hr>


    If Master Ji was surprised at Molam''s shout or the nature of the instruction, he did not show it. He shoved Roxxa at them, using the push to dodge a bolt of lightning and pivoting back with both feet on the ground, indigo gaze up and searching for the Tempest.


    Molam followed up on the Whale''s immediate response. "Support Master Ji by distracting the Islander without leaving my Domain." He pointed to Primrose and Scarlette, hoping they shared similar skills, then pointed to Shurra and Martyker. "Repel the OutCast if she makes a move on us, but stay out of her reach and don''t get dragged outside."


    Though Molam had no doubt the Empire¡¯s attackers had heard his orders, the sudden focus on the Tempest saw them all hesitate. In a quick leap, Master Ji had reached the space near Rei before she could bring back her fan, his hands clenched together for a downward blow.


    By the time Desmi pulled back to aim at Master Ji, Primrose had leapt to the top of the Sage''s Mirror and thrown a dagger at him; the Islander¡¯s dodge threw him off balance. Desmi looked down, searching for the new enemy, and was forced to flip backwards to avoid the two needles aimed at his eyes. Without Desmi to stun Master Ji, the Tempest flicked her fan into a new position, careening down towards the ground just in time for those giant fists to hit nothing but air.


    "Go for the HushFang now that the Tempest can''t intervene!" Molam shouted at Master Ji, but a commotion from Shurra and Martyker brought Molam''s attention back down to the ground. The two had stalled Roxxa''s advance¡ªbut only just, if Molam had to guess, judging by the matching looks of unspoken pain on their faces. Blades flashed again, but this time the OutCast shoved the tip of Martyker''s blade to the ground, sidestepped Shurra''s slash, and closed in.


    "Let her approach!" Molam ran forward as he shouted; the Domain moved with him at its center. At the sound of his voice, the two dodged aside. Roxxa took a reflexive step back at his approach, the hesitation in her eyes confirming Molam¡¯s suspicion that she was unwilling to enter this new Domain assuming it held a trap. Molam had nothing of the sort; he simply gambled on her caution against the unknown. The bluff couldn''t be maintained forever, but for now it would keep the Titled One indirectly restrained in her onslaught.


    Kymja bounced off the ground with Nettie in tow, a deluge of water splashing down after her. The Whale crashed down a moment later, pressing the water forward with a forceful push of his hand. Three blades of green wind sliced through the water, another attempt by Rei to sever the connection. But before it could collapse, the Whale flipped his hand to push his palm upwards, shoving the bulk of the water towards Kyma while diverting a section towards Rei. She deflected the oncoming torrent with a blast of wind, then soared back upwards, staying out of reach of the chasing water. Kymja vaulted backwards, up towards the walls, trying to stay ahead of the whale''s water and force him to split his attention between her and Rei. But more water rushed out of the Arena''s corridors to tangle Kymja by her legs, slowing the Titled One down.


    The Whale pounced.


    The harpoon shot upwards from below; the Whale twisted in midair to avoid it. But the Islander was not done ¡ª he gestured and lightning lanced from his hand to his harpoon, catching the Whale between them and stunning him before he could hammer Kymja back to the Arena''s floor. She dodged out of his reach at that moment, bringing herself to the wall and resuming her climb upwards. Master Ji fell, shrugging off the paralysis to point at the HushFang. Water gathered, but dissipated as he was forced to twist his body in midair again, this time to deflect Roxxa''s thrown poleaxe with a kick. The Tempest''s fan swiped through the air, emerald blades of wind forcing the Whale back down to earth.


    "Stay!" Molam roared at Shurra before she stepped outside of his Domain. Their lives were forfeit if they ventured outside of his little bubble of safety. To Molam''s right, Roxxa picked up her poleaxe and advanced on them again, seemingly deciding that she could still attack from range. She brought back her poleaxe in a movement intended to throw, then sliced down to one side, splitting the Whale''s jet of water into two streams that barreled into the Arena''s walls behind her.


    The Whale drew water and pointed again ¡ª lightning struck his arm at the same time a green gale scattered the water into mist. Master Ji¡¯s arm fell limp, but he held out his other palm towards Molam''s group and water answered his call, swiftly forming a barrier of ice around them. All the while, Master Ji''s gaze darted repeatedly back to Kymja scaling the Arena''s sides, making her handholds slippery and causing lethal icicles to erupt under her hands and feet. Yet all it amounted to was to slow the kidnapper down.


    Roxxa swung her weapon, shattering the ice before it could fully form; Ji snagged her by the hem of her clothes, then let go to dodge the harpoon before it could impale him. Roxxa took the chance to slip out of his grasp. The Whale of ZhiXi looked up at the Islander and bared his teeth in frustration. Though she had sustained an injury to her shoulder, Kymja had once again made it up to the third floor.


    Shurra made to move, but Molam put a hurried hand on her arm to stop her.


    "We can''t," Molam muttered, shaking his head. Their disrupting the Empire''s Titled Ones had created an opening for Master Ji to move, but the Empire had adjusted their strategy to match it. The HushFang clearly focused her efforts on eluding the Whale''s grasp while she trusted the other three Titled Ones to maintain a good distraction.


    And now the Empire''s forces were wary of their interference, they were taking care to position themselves in ways that would allow them to better react, glowing eyes paying full attention to each of their movements. The shift in attention was enough to disrupt any plan Molam could think of at the moment. They couldn''t keep the other Titled Ones distracted long enough for Master Ji to land a decisive hit on the HushFang. Molam glanced at the Sage''s Mirror, contemplating it as his next gamble ¡ª but it was not an outcome he could control.


    Shurra stomped forward from the side wearing a murderous look of resolve. "I am a daughter of the White Bear," she thundered ritualistically. "Roxxa the Traitor, I challenge¡ª"


    She was cut off by the Whale landing with his back turned towards her, one hand held out in a clear gesture of stop. "No. Stay put."


    The Whale did not look at them, his gaze flowing between the Tempest, the Islander, and the OutCast. When he bent to prepare another leap, Desmi''s yellow lightning flashed through the air, tearing across stalagmites as Rei''s emerald wind pressed down from above. Abandoning the jump, Master Ji clapped his hands together before the lightning struck him; an icicle shoved aside several stalagmites meant to impale Molam from the wall behind them. Martyker''s greatsword sliced through the air, severing the last bit of earth before it could pierce Molam''s arm.


    Roxxa rushed forward as Master Ji stumbled out from the dust of the Islander''s attack, her poleaxe bearing down on him meant to impale him through the head.Still reeling from the lingering paralysis, Master Ji barely shifted to the side and grunted with pain when the sharp edge of the poleaxe buried itself into his shoulder, hitting the same spot it had glanced off before. But his large hand shot out, grasping Roxxa by the neck and intending to shove her down into the ground when Desmi''s harpoon shot towards his arm. Electrified tip met reinforced skin, and though the weapon was forced off course, Master Ji''s grip slackened enough for a swipe of Rei''s wind to yank Roxxa out of his grasp. Roxxa backed off several paces, clutching at her throat as the Whale inspected the bleeding gash in his arm, rotating his injured shoulder.


    "You can''t protect both the Prodigy and the Oracle''s vessel, Whale of ZhiXia." Rei circled from above, the wind carrying her voice down. "Look at your sorry state ¡ª is this befitting for the Empire''s former Commander? What has the Oracle done for you these past decades? She''s worked you like a pack mule and now you''re weighed down by her newest vessel, one that''s not even Titled. It''s never too late to ask the Prince to accept you again, we know he''s ¡ª"


    "Rei." Roxxa spoke up, her tone cold ¡ª dangerous. "We do not speak for the Prince."


    "We all know what he''s thinking, he''s just too lenient when it comes to ¡ª"


    A loud roar echoed through the air and a large black form crashed straight into the Tempest, knocking her to the side.


    "REI!" Yao-ren¡¯s voice bellowed from atop the black pixiu. Green wind tore at him and his bond in response. Most of it bounced harmlessly off the pixiu''s thick fur, but several cuts appeared on its wings. The angry pixiu chomped down at the Tempest, who prevented it from closing its jaws with her fan. "Did you think you could hide forever?"


    GloomSire¡¯s furious charge had accomplished what Molam¡¯s careful planning had not. Roxxa looked back down too late to react to Ji, who was already within reach. His fist connected with her torso; despite her reinforcement, something cracked audibly as the blow sent her flying backwards into the Arena''s few remaining walls.


    Lightning spiked through the air. Master Ji held up a ball of water which met the strike then cascaded downwards, the water guiding the Islander''s attack towards the ground. Up in the air, Rei had already extricated herself away from the pixiu''s jaws and paws, trapping Yao-ren and the pixiu inside a small green cyclone. But a black-feathered owl harassed her in midair, its talons gripping tightly into her shoulders as it pecked furiously for her eyes.


    Where was Kymja? Molam scanned the surroundings, looking up near the Arena''s roof to see the Titled One vault away, Nettie still in her grasp. "The HushFang''s gone!" he shouted at Master Ji, who was still diverting the Islander''s attack. "They''ve taken Nettie!"


    "Rei can''t support us in checking his Domain!" Desmi''s yellow glowing eyes fixated on Master Ji''s form behind the cascading waterfall of lightning, shouting to the Roxxa-sized hole. "He''s forcing it!"


    From even within Molam''s Domain, everyone felt the pressure of their surroundings change. The water pooling over the Arena''s floor bubbled and danced, a ripple vibrating across its surface. Several large droplets levitated upwards and the fiery Domain''s bubble hissed with evaporation. A swirling torrent ran throughout the Arena, covering each of the sides and rushing upwards in a bid to create a dome.


    Despite being buffeted by the owl''s wings and holding the fan in front of her face, the Tempest responded first: a blast of sustained wind shoving everything down. Then she twisted in the air to escape the owl. "Roxxa said the Prodigy takes priority! We cover Kymja''s retreat!" She darted through the air in a blur and the owl followed, screeching in rage.


    With a resounding roar, Yao-ren and the pixiu broke past the Tempest''s prison of wind, launching in pursuit with bloody bodies and determined faces. Molam saw Yao-ren catch the owl in one arm and cradle it with a gentleness that didn¡¯t match the rage that emanated from the rest of him as they flew.A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    Desmi''s lightning fizzled, then petered out. He launched his weapon immediately, the harpoon blasting through the curtain of water. Without checking to see if it hit, Desmi shouted, "Roxxa! If we''re leaving, we leave now!"


    "No."


    The guttural growl was the only warning they got as the Whale burst through the curtain of water, pointing at the Islander. Nothing seemed to happen, but Desmi still threw himself to the ground. The next moment, ice shards exploded where he had been standing.


    "None of you are leaving." Master Ji had already prepared a ball of water, pulling his hand backwards for a throw when a bloodied hand gripped at his arm.


    "Go!" Roxxa shouted hoarsely up at Desmi. "Now!"


    The Whale spun around, delivering an open palm strike down from above. The OutCast met it with her fist and their blows clapped together in a deafening snap. Roxxa staggered backwards, her fingers twisted, her wrist limp at a gruesome angle. A large ball of water surged forward to surround Roxxa, who made a desperate lunge to escape its reach. But she was too slow, too late. The Whale gestured and ice crawled up Roxxa''s body before she could escape, encasing her within.


    By the time the Whale looked up again, the Islander was nowhere to be seen. His face darkened; then he snapped his fingers. Each body of water in the vicinity, from the puddles to the pools on the ground, responded by dispersing into fine droplets. When the Whale waved his hand, the droplets spread throughout the destroyed Arena, blanketing it in a fine mist. Molam suspected that the Whale of ZhiXia was not taking chances by relying on his sense of aura alone; the mist would touch everything still in the vicinity.


    The Whale''s brows furrowed in concentration, then he nodded to himself before turning to look at Molam''s group hiding in his red Domain. "Nothing else should be hidden here," he declared so they would know they were safe.


    Stunned silence. The members of their group stared at the Whale of ZhiXia standing next to the icy encasement, inspecting his bleeding arm while laying a hand on the OutCast''s prison. Water crept up, layering itself over and over in sheets of ice until the OutCast''s figure was only a murky blob within.


    Watching it happen, it seemed as though the fight had ended just as fast as it began.


    For now.


    But was it time to rest?


    Molam broke the silence.


    "Are you leaving the OutCast alive?"


    "Yes," the Whale replied, focused on the task of reinforcing the icy prison.


    "Why?" Shurra spoke up. "She''s dangerous. We should kill her now."


    Molam thought he understood why. "She is, and that increases her value as a hostage now that they''ve taken Nettie."


    "There''s little guarantee the Empire would take the trade," Scarlette disagreed. "The Empire wanted the Prodigy ¡ª enough to have sent four Titled Ones to ZhiXia City to take her. Master Ji, we should kill the OutCast now so the Empire loses a Titled One."


    When Master Ji did not respond, Molam did. "While I agree with you, doing so loses us any leverage we have," Molam spoke up mildly. "So long as we have the OutCast, then it''s not too late to make that decision later."


    Moments passed before Master Ji lifted his hand, nodding to himself. "Roxxa''s aura has been sealed inside. She can no longer reach for the earth to help her break out of this." He turned, looking from Molam to the rest. "I sincerely hope all of you are unhurt."


    "We''re fine," Molam replied, his mind still trying to understand what he had just witnessed. A battle ¡ª no, a skirmish between Titled Ones. He had just witnessed a battle between Titled Ones. "You still need to go after the Nettie," he reminded Master Ji. "If you follow their aura traces, you should find GloomSire chasing the Tempest, and whatever direction that is should be close to the HushFang. Hurry."


    But Master Ji looked hesitant. "My place is here, to protect ZhiXia City in case they come back. I won''t be able to face the Oracle if you die."


    "The Oracle can choose another. The Empire wants Nettie to build the SunFlower," Molam reminded him. "They cannot have the SunFlower." Molam met the Whale''s gaze without flinching. Master Ji needed to understand. "The Empire just sent four Titled Ones to infiltrate and attack ZhiXia City. Not Sanctuary, but at this distance it hardly matters¡ªthey were willing to risk angering the Oracle or the Submerged Leviathan to obtain Nettie. That makes it all the more important for us to stop them."


    Molam said nothing about the Empire''s other need for an aura source, but if he could prevent them from obtaining the SunFlower, they would have no need for one. "If you''re concerned for us, we can move somewhere else that''s safe. Sanctuary."


    After a moment, Master Ji looked towards Martyker. "See to it that the Oracle''s vessel is protected."


    "Of course, Honorable Master! Though I also wish to save Nettie, Molam will be more protected than ¡ª"


    The Whale launched into the air, disappearing from sight.


    Martyker sighed, looking wistfully at where the Titled One had vanished into the sky. "I hope Nettie is safe." Then the Oasian grinned at Molam. "But that doesn''t mean I will shirk this duty. I now have my first task as a disciple!"


    "Did he even accept you?" Shurra asked.


    "He wouldn''t have spoken to me specifically otherwise, no?"


    Primrose frowned. "Have you even done the ritual of three kowtows?"


    "There will be time for that," Martyker laughed. "So what if the order is a bit off?"


    Molam had no idea what they were talking about. But judging by Primrose''s forced expression of politeness and Shurra''s silent head shake at Martyker''s enthusiasm, he guessed they did. Perhaps someone would explain it then, if it was important.


    Primrose tested a blade outside of Molam''s Domain, then her small finger, before stepping out to scan around the battered Arena with her glowing purple eyes. "I cannot believe we survived that. A fight between Titled Ones!"


    "Only because Master Ji suppressed the Empire''s Titled Ones and he kept himself restrained while fighting within the City." The next to exit was Madam Scarlette, picking up her dress to join Primrose in looking at the Arena. "If they clash again outside, it won''t be the same."


    The Arena''s structure, pristine and elegant this morning, now appeared weathered and worn. What remained of the walls had been cracked and riddled with holes; remnants of melting icicles and stalagmites littered the stage. The open rim up above seemed the least affected outside of the conspicuously missing chunk where the Tempest and GloomSire had crashed into the structure. A section of the first and second floors had been completely obliterated by the OutCast when Master Ji''s strike had knocked her through. Without these supporting structures, the third floor seemed to sag under its own weight.


    Primrose shook her head as Madam Scarlette came to stand near her. "Even restrained, that was a fight between Titled Ones. The Arena won''t be easy to restore. Do the Sharks even have stonemasons capable of working with this type of stone?"


    "Build a new one and let this one stand as a reminder this fight happened," Shurra said as she followed Primrose, inspecting the battered Arena. "Are you not proud to have participated, if even only slightly? This would contribute towards your own legend!"


    "I''m heading towards Sanctuary," Molam interjected loudly so everyone in the vicinity could hear him. "With Martyker, apparently." The Oasian had planted his feet firmly in a stance behind Molam, looking like a bodyguard. "The fight couldn''t have gone unnoticed, so it''s best we regroup at Sanctuary and wait there for Master Ji. I''m sure the Priestesses are dealing with a gigantic mess as well."


    The three women came over, stepping back into the red Domain. "The City is probably in disarray," Madam Scarlette agreed. "Nothing like this has ever happened during the Festival. I should return to HuaLang Chamber and see if we can''t help the Sharks with the aftermath."


    "You don''t need your Domain anymore," Shurra pointed out to Molam. "Isn''t it taxing for you to maintain this?"


    Molam glanced at the fiery red covering them. The spirit hadn''t told him how the feather worked, only that it would protect him against hostile Domains. That would explain why it hadn''t reacted to the HushFang''s presence until she released her Domain. But then again, Molam had no idea how to recall the Domain, and he doubted the phoenix was listening.


    "It''s best to stay on guard and vigilant, just in case," he shrugged. "Though Master Ji did a clean sweep of the Arena himself, we don''t know who else may have infiltrated."


    "Your caution is admirable," Madam Scarlette smiled slyly at him. It always unnerved Molam that he couldn''t see her eyes behind that veil, only her mouth. "Primrose, you should go with him towards Sanctuary. I need to head back to the Chamber."


    Seeing no disagreement, the group turned to leave the Arena''s stage grounds with Primrose and Scarlette speaking in hushed whispers in front of them while Martyker brought up the rear. Shurra kept frowning, but Molam was just glad that this was over and none of them were hurt.


    Crack.


    With no warning, a loud crack echoed throughout the Arena. Martyker unslung his greatsword, spinning around before any of them. "At the ready," he murmured. Then, more tense and urgent, "Now."


    The rest of the group had armed themselves by the time they turned; even Molam brought out the dagger Primrose had lent him. The next moment heard their collective intake of breath as they saw the ice imprisoning the OutCast flicker with aura.


    But the chilling dread came from the color of the aura that manifested. Not the OutCast''s bright orange, not the Whale''s indigo ¡ª but an all-consuming black.


    A color that famously belonged to only one person in the world.


    The black aura flickered throughout the ice ¡ª indigo rings were pulled into existence, cracked, and then disintegrated. With the snap of each ring binding the ice, layers of frost slid off and the OutCast''s prison began to shrink. In mere moments, they could see the dark outline of the body encased within.


    Then the black aura winked out of existence, and all was silent.


    "What happened?" Shurra demanded, brandishing her sword.


    "I don''t know," Martyker shouted, taking several steps back without turning away. "But that can''t have been all of it."


    "We all saw that, right? The color¡ª"


    Orange aura flared around the OutCast''s silhouette, then the ground trembled. Earthen spikes erupted out of the Arena''s ground, piercing deeply into the OutCast''s imprisonment, cracking and splitting apart sheets of ice. The air itself vibrated, a low hum resonating throughout the Arena as the ice keened sharply in protest. Shards of ice burst into the air like a million shattered diamonds, glittering in the pale Sunlight as the icy prison succumbed to the stone spears'' penetration.


    "Run." Molam took a step back, then peeled his eyes away from the spectacle and turned. "We need to leave, now."


    The others turned at his voice ¡ª Shurra and Martyker''s eyes wide and wild, Primrose and Scarlette''s faces pale at the recognition of the danger they were in. It was one thing to have joined the fight when the Whale was there with them. The situation was completely changed if the OutCast engaged them without any other interference. "Run!"


    With the sound of shattering ice behind them, they scrambled towards the edge of the Arena, feet pounding the ground in unison as the others instinctively ran into his Domain. Primrose and Scarlette led the way towards the exit, which loomed just in sight when Molam realized that it was the ground itself shaking, not the feeling of his feet on the ground. Shurra''s head jerked, then she yanked Primrose and Scarlette backwards just before thick spears of earth exploded through the ground, blocking their passage out of the Arena.


    Shurra grimaced with fury and struck the barrier. The spikes shifted and chunks fell, but the blockage held. Molam immediately abandoned the idea of breaking through, looking to the side to search for alternative routes. No; the next point of exit was too far.


    "Up," he said decisively, then turned to Shurra. "Help me. I can''t maintain a Domain and reinforce at the same time." To his relief, Shurra nodded without complaint, holding Molam in an arm as their group began vaulting up towards the Arena''s roof, using the earthen spikes as a makeshift ladder.


    Molam looked back to see the OutCast continue to fight out of her imprisonment. A stalagmite ruptured the ice around the OutCast''s arm, and once free, she swung the flat of her weapon against the rest. More cracks, followed by another swing before the icy prison shattered around her. The splintered pieces of ice fell into a large crack in the ground beneath her ¡ª Molam guessed it was related to how she had forcibly freed herself. She coughed up blood as she fell forward, her mangled hand pressing on her navel where the Whale had delivered the crushing blow.


    "She''s free," he whispered. Whether out of disbelief or to the others, he did not know. They had only reached the fourth floor when the OutCast''s glowing orange eyes looked up at them, and then the spikes retracted with a shudder. Finding themselves without handholds, the entire group stabbed the earthen wall for purchase, only to find it to suddenly be more fluid than they remember.


    Slowly, painfully, they slid down the viscous wall, the OutCast''s eyes watching them the entire time. The Arena''s ground cracked, spidery webs forming where there had once been pools of water, and the air around her took on an orange tint by the time they had come back down to the Arena''s stage.


    "There''s no hurry to leave, vessel of the Oracle." The OutCast''s voice echoed hoarsely as she pushed herself to her feet. "I have unfinished business with you."

 Ch 50: Titled One

    Live a fulfilling life and try to have few regrets.


    The Empire of the Sun may visit your home one day.


    ¡ª A saying within the Free Cities. Many variations.


    <hr>


    Martial Arena


    Molam stepped away from Shurra, walking to the front of the group to face the OutCast. His eyes darted around, noting her injured hand and lame leg in addition to the way she pressed a hand to her lower left ribs. A tinge of blue on her skin and lips spoke of frostbite.


    The Whale had brought her dangerously close to death before imprisoning her, but she had broken out. Molam swallowed down his trepidation. She hadn''t attacked ¡ª yet. That means they could talk.


    "Roxxa EarthCaller." He greeted her using her original Title, hoping for some goodwill.


    "Don''t ingratiate yourself with me," the OutCast took a limping step towards them. "I abandoned that Title long ago."


    Well then. Molam pressed his lips together, his eyes flicking around the Arena in desperate search of something he could use. "If the Empire has business with me, then I''m perfectly happy to talk. I assume my friends here can leave? We are in the middle of the Festival of the Hero, and there''s so much for them to see."


    The OutCast seemed confused for a moment, then coughed in laughter, stopping only when she choked on her own blood. She eventually wiped it away and looked up again, the hint of a smile on her face. "Ahhh, I see, I see. So this is what Rei mentioned when she said the Dao rebellion''s leader has quite the glib tongue. Very well then." She spared the merest glance towards the others. "I''ll allow you to leave. The Festival of the Hero is a time for peace, after all."


    Primrose and Shurra flanked Molam on either side, facing down the Titled One. "No. We''re one group."


    Molam turned on them, hissing an order before he could stop himself. "No, leave. I''m the one she wants." He couldn''t say his plan out loud at this point, not with the OutCast within earshot.


    Shurra paid him no heed, staring down the OutCast while Primrose pinched his elbow. "Don''t be silly. You know what she wants. The Oracle may need another hundred years to choose another vessel."


    Martyker stood forth as well, his greatsword drawn and at his side. "My honorable Master wants me to ensure your safety," the bearded man said in an almost apologetic tone. "I can''t do that if I can''t see you, right?"


    I appreciate the camaraderie, but now is not the time! Molam bit back the words. "And you?" He turned to Madam Scarlette, hoping for at least one person with a sense of self-preservation.


    "I agree with Primrose," she smiled from beneath her veil.


    "It seems your friends aren''t very grateful for your concern," the OutCast observed. "But it doesn''t matter. I would like to minimize casualties." She pointed her weapon at Molam. "I''m only going to fix Rei''s mistake of letting you live. If you come here obediently, I promise it will be painless."


    Before Molam could speak, Shurra placed a heavy hand on his arm. He looked up to see her baring her teeth at Roxxa. "Traitor."


    The single word almost made Molam flinch. He hadn¡¯t thought anyone could put so much anger and pain into one utterance.


    The OutCast''s expression stayed impassive at the blatant aggression. "A daughter of the White Bear. What was your name again, kin of mine?"


    "Shurra." She took a step forward, stomping her foot into the ground. "Shurra Lukkad¨®ttir."


    The full name made the OutCast''s eyes narrow; her gaze focused fully on Shurra for a long while. Then, her eyes widened with recognition. "Lukka was blessed with a daughter who shares her brows and cheekbones," she nodded, lowering her weapon. "Why are you here? Are you not the heiress? Why are you so far from the HeartHome?"


    "I didn''t think you would still care for our customs, Traitor." Shurra drew her weapon. "Were you not the heiress who abandoned both your Title and the HeartHome you defended?"


    The OutCast did not respond immediately, pondering Shurra with an inscrutable look of resignation.


    "I wouldn''t expect you to understand, Shurra." Roxxa looked down at the ground, as though recalling something, before she looked back up. "I hope my sister is well enough?"


    "''Well enough?''" Shurra''s voice echoed, hollow. "What do you think the other tribes said of us after you abandoned us in the middle of freeing the Frozen Saint? What do you think they said of my mother, who had to take your place in front of the Blue Rose only to fail? What do you think they said of the White Bears after you showed up at the Empire''s side?"


    Molam took the chance while Roxxa was distracted to tug on Primrose''s sleeve, nudging his nose towards the Sage''s Mirror. Primrose gave him an inquisitive look, but Molam mouthed: We''re going there. She frowned, but nodded, then slid a foot in the Mirror''s direction.


    "You want to know if my mother is doing well, Traitor? She took on the role of Mother after you deserted the tribe." Shurra advanced, her weapon pointed up and at the ready. "The role she was never prepared for. The role meant for Roxxa EarthCaller, our¡­ pride." She spat the last word, pointing her sword at Roxxa. "She publicly endured the humiliation you left for us! And through all of that, I was with her every single time she visited the Blue Rose, begging the Mother of Hjornheim to answer her. She can stay calm and put up a brave face for the tribe in front of the HeartHome, but you should know how your sister is when she''s alone and thinks her daughter can''t hear her. How do you think she is doing, Traitor?" Shurra''s voice dropped to a silky whisper. "Did it ever occur to you that the tribe needed Roxxa EarthCaller all these decades? That Lukka needed her older sister?"


    Roxxa exhaled a long sigh. "I don''t expect your forgiveness either, Shurra. How could you forgive something that you don''t understand?" Far away in the distance, thunder rumbled. All of the water in their vicinity trembled violently, then trickled away in the direction of the thunder. Roxxa''s eyes followed the water, then her gaze became unfocused as she looked into the skies in the distance.


    "It seems they were forced to engage the Whale in the end," she muttered, then lifted her poleaxe again. "Stay put, Shurra. We can have our talk about this later; after I kill the Oracle''s vessel."


    Roxxa''s orange gaze refocused on Molam and the air changed ¡ª they had slowly shifted closer to the Sage''s Mirror during this time. "And where are you going?"


    "Shurra, buy us some time!" Molam shouted. Primrose grabbed him by the arm and they broke into a sprint for the Sage''s Mirror. Normally, it would be an impossible command for Shurra, but the OutCast was severely injured. Even if Master Ji had been in a hurry to go after Nettie, he wouldn''t have made the mistake of imprisoning a Titled One in something that could be so easily broken. Molam reasoned that it had cost her a substantial amount of effort to break out of her bindings. "Hold Roxxa back!"


    Shurra charged forward at Roxxa, right out of the red Domain and immediately stumbled, dropping down to one knee. She looked back, surprised ¡ª where had that ridge come from? ¡ª then looked up to see Roxxa limping towards Molam''s group. Gritting her teeth, she leapt back to her feet and rushed forward again. The earth shifted beneath her, but this time Shurra kept her eyes to the ground and reacted when more ridges formed, stepping carefully as she advanced on Roxxa.


    "Stay there," Roxxa said, stabbing her poleaxe into the ground. "Don''t make me hurt you, Shurra."


    The ground in front of Shurra erupted upwards, forming a solid wall that prevented her from reaching her target. The ground in front of Molam''s Domain cracked open as well, but the wall''s formation stopped the moment Molam''s Domain covered it. They rushed through the opening.


    That explains why none of them could attack from afar, Molam thought as they stopped in front of the Mirror and its ethereal surface. They can''t control any of the space in this Domain.


    "Now what?" Primrose asked while Scarlette and Martyker backed into them, on guard against the approaching OutCast. "This better be good, Molam."


    Scarlette seemed speechless. "Did you bring us here¡­ to summon echoes that would fight us first?"Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    A loud clang interrupted them; they whirled to see Martyker blocking Roxxa, who had already advanced up to the edge of Molam''s Domain. Even with just one hand, the injured Titled One was pushing past the Oasian as their blades clashed, sparks flying through the air.


    "Molam, will your Domain attack me if I use my aura?" Martyker shouted. The man''s sword sliced in great arcs through the air, leaving a trail of silver light, matching Roxxa''s own cleaving blows in a flurry of exchanges. Each strike saw their weapons parry and glance off each other as Martyker aimed for Roxxa''s vitals or attempted to injure her even further, but was unable to gain the upper hand by himself.


    "No, act freely!" Molam shouted back at the swordsman.


    Silver aura lanced out from Martyker''s hand as he deflected Roxxa''s blow and returned a downward swing of his greatsword. Roxxa blocked it, but Martyker did not let up. Various metal objects flew towards them, drawn towards the silver gleaming in the air. Martyker leapt backwards at the very last moment and the metal objects crashed straight into Roxxa, blocking her vision.


    The moment was brief, but enough for Molam to gesture commands at the two women. Madam Scarlette seemed none too impressed at the plan, but she nodded alongside Primrose.


    The metal pieces vibrated and shot outwards. The others turned to deflect the pieces, Molam blocked his face with his arm; a shard sliced through his ear. Blood ran down his neck, then his ear itched. So that still worked too.


    "I can respect the will to fight," the OutCast shrugged off the rest of the metal weights, her glowing orange eyes focused on Molam. "I can respect the desire to live. Why can''t you people channel that towards the will to fight for a world worth living in? The Oracle chose a vessel once and it turned our world upside down; did none of you learn from history?"


    The earthen wall behind Roxxa exploded in a shower of rock and gravel; Shurra emerged, rushing Roxxa with her sword held just above her head, tip pointing forward. "Fighting for a world worth living in? And who turned their back on the Frozen Saint? What right do you have to speak of anything, Traitor?"


    "Impulsive and single-minded," Roxxa growled, meeting Shurra''s charge with her own weapon. The two women braced against the ground, pushing into each other in a grueling contest of strength. "You inherited Lukka''s worst traits; all action without thought." The poleaxe''s edge bit into the sword, drawing a sharp keen from Shurra''s blade. "DId you forget the wisdom of the Seers? A glacier with no destination is just destruction manifest."


    Martyker dashed past Molam, greatsword cleaving through the air. Roxxa broke off a nearby spike to block the swordsman with an awkward grip from her ruined hand, but the stone crumbled under Martyker''s blade. She hopped back, breaking off another spike and switching her position while Shurra and Martyker followed, their weapons whirling through the air. She met both of them again, this time blocking the greatsword with her poleaxe instead. The weapons held against each other.


    "You speak of history, Roxxa the OutCast, but history has multiple writers." Martyker pushed his full weight down on his weapon, forcing Roxxa to one knee. Shurra stepped past Martyker, thrusting her sword down at Roxxa''s weak-side; the blade caught against Roxxa''s defensive arm, drawing a gash but did not go deep. With grim determination, Shurra leaned in, putting her weight behind the sword.


    Roxxa coughed, struggling under the weight of both Shurra and Martyker, then stomped her foot forward; a pillar of earth erupted beneath her, pushing her above them all and disengaging her from the two assailants. Shurra and Martyker backtracked, returning to the safety of Molam''s Domain.


    She didn''t attack them using her earth spikes, observed Molam. Did she choose not to, or is it that she can''t?


    "Martyker," Roxxa greeted, looking down upon them from above. She inspected her injured arm, then looked back down. "It is Martyker, right? I couldn''t remember your name until it was shouted earlier. Did the Prince not promise to restore your arm if you would consider entering his service and work towards changing everyone''s lives for the better?"


    Martyker looked up at Roxxa. "You speak of a world worth living in, but how can anyone feel comfortable living under the same sky as the Empire?"


    Roxxa''s eyes narrowed at the accusation, staring down at Martyker from her vantage point. "You''ve seen the Empire. You should know that we do not mistreat any ¡ª"


    "It''s not about how you treat those within, but how you treat those around you too," Martyker interjected. "Ask the Free Cities. And even if it''s just internal, what did the Empire do when Kamisukawa tried to go their own way? You know the history. You tell us."


    The OutCast''s shadow loomed over them, but she did not respond. Molam caught Primrose and Scarlette''s questioning eyes, but shook his head. It wasn''t time yet.


    "I see none of you can be swayed then." The OutCast looked down upon them, the cadence of her words slowing down. "This is my final warning: step aside." She held up her free hand and clenched a fist; the ground shook and chunks of earth floated upwards, coalescing into a large mass above Molam''s Domain. "Only the Oracle''s vessel needs to die here. Your mothers labored to give you life; don''t toss it away needlessly."


    While the rest of the group looked up at Roxxa''s threat with trepidation, Molam experienced a moment of clarity. He saw the entire battlefield within the Martial Arena as a board, the opponent''s next moves almost as predictable as a predator sensing weakness and going for the kill.


    "That''s hardly the right thing to say to people who already distrust the Empire, Roxxa," he said in a mild tone, squeezing Primrose''s arm for her to prepare herself. "It only makes them wonder why you are so interested in my death ¡ª and perhaps what the Empire stands to lose if I live."


    All he needed to do was ensure Roxxa saw no other choice.


    "You are just like the Frozen Saint." Roxxa''s gaze hardened. "Willing to let others die to do the Oracle''s bidding."


    The words stung, but perhaps not in ways that Roxxa intended. Molam shrugged it off by pointing to the large earthen mass she had gathered above their head, enunciating clearly so that the others could hear. "When you drop that, Shurra and Martyker can easily block it for us. Then what? No one''s going to die while my Domain keeps us safe."


    "Such confidence in the outcome. So the source of your confidence is your Domain." The poleaxe lifted and Roxxa stepped off her platform, bringing down her other hand as she fell down towards them.


    Shurra and Martyker acted immediately, leaping upwards to engage the chunk of earth falling down on them. Martyker went first; the greatsword swung, splitting it in half, then he ducked as Shurra pried the halves apart, sending them flying to the sides.


    Roxxa landed on the ground while the two were in the air, then launched herself at Molam with a speed she hadn''t demonstrated earlier. The flames making up the Domain converged on Roxxa the moment she entered, but she did not falter. Their group barely had time to process the raised earthen foothold behind her before she had breached Molam''s Domain and was on them.


    Scarlette and Primrose scattered to the side, throwing sharp projectiles at the OutCast. The charging woman disregarded the barrage of needles and blades as they bounced off her skin. She made a straight line towards Molam, who had only managed to retreat two steps in the time she had touched the ground.


    "Stop." Primrose''s voice rang out to no avail. Unlike Lyka, Roxxa did not even flinch at her Charm, her poleaxe cutting straight at Molam''s neck.


    A great thump exploded the earth next to Molam.


    Clang.


    Martyker had thrown his greatsword as he fell through the air, blocking the blow meant to sever Molam''s head from his shoulders. Roxxa didn¡¯t hesitate; she dropped her weapon and reached for Molam instead. Molam shook off the effects of the loud impact, backing up to the Sage''s Mirror with no place to run.


    When the grasping hand almost reached him, Molam crushed the stone from Kalle that had been meant for his flametool. The explosion of fire was larger than he expected, knocking him backwards and making his arm go numb.


    And still it wasn''t enough. He looked up to see Roxxa bearing down on him, then her movement jerked sideways as Scarlette leapt onto the OutCast''s back, pulling Roxxa''s head backwards to stab a needle into her neck. But just like the flames now surrounding Roxxa, the needles stopped just before it reached her skin, held at bay by a veil of aura.


    With a growl, Roxxa reached up to swat Scarlette away, hand swiping the air while the woman fluttered backwards to avoid that deadly grip. Seeing Scarlette out of her reach, Roxxa turned back to Molam. His back touched the Mirror behind him. Roxxa stepped in and struck again, her punch aimed unerringly at Molam''s head. Shurra tackled the OutCast out of nowhere, throwing off the attack''s trajectory and causing Roxxa''s fist to strike Molam''s shoulder instead, sliding off onto the Mirror behind him.


    Molam roared. The blow shattered his bones and the pain blurred his vision. He could barely think or recognize Primrose and Scarlette engaging the OutCast before she could finish his life; the agonizing pain was too great for his mind to focus. Dimly, he felt his working hand clutching at his broken shoulder while the fight raged above his prone form.


    "Shurra, hold her down!"


    The unmistakable sound of steel clashing. Grunts of pain. Enraged shouts.


    "Molam''s Domain is gone!"


    "Molam needs to heal himself, just hold her down!"


    By the time the itching sensation of healing kicked in, Molam had just registered two bodies thrown to the ground besides him. He looked up to see Roxxa free from the flames, holding Shurra down on the ground with one foot on her back while shoving away Martyker''s greatsword. When the Oasian was pushed back, Roxxa leaned down on her foot and forced a struggling Shurra back down. When Shurra tried to rise again, Roxxa slammed her poleaxe''s blade towards Shurra''s face, halting it at the last moment, the steel gleaming in front of Shurra''s eyes.


    "Stay down, Lukkad¨®ttir." Roxxa tapped Shurra''s cheek with the flat of her poleaxe. Shurra struggled, but could not break free. "My lenience with you is the only reason your other friends are alive." Roxxa tapped her weapon on the ground ¡ª the earth snaked around Shurra''s wrists and ankles, binding her down.


    The Titled One looked up, her glowing orange eyes focusing on Molam. "Your focus is fragile if your Domain disperses so easily in battle."


    Molam could only stare numbly at the OutCast, too distracted to focus on his dangling, useless arm and itching shoulder. Primrose and Scarlette lay on the ground, struggling against their own bindings. An injured Roxxa had defeated them all by herself in those moments the feather focused on healing him? And Master Ji had fought three Titled Ones by himself?


    Roxxa stomped close, looking down at Molam. "Molam, was it?" She shook her head, almost apologetic. "It''s nothing personal. You can blame fate that you were chosen as the Oracle''s tool, if it makes this any easier. I apologize that this is how it needs to be."


    She raised her weapon for the killing blow. Molam braced himself when a glowing hook yanked her wrist backwards, causing Roxxa to pivot and face the Mirror. The other end of the hook extended from the Mirror''s black swirling surface, now glowing with an orange hue, the same color as Roxxa''s aura. The hook extended as the orange echo stepped out, taking on the form of a man. The OutCast growled, trying to free her wrist when the echo twisted the haft of its weapon to pull Roxxa towards it, yanking their adversary away from Molam''s group.


    Martyker ran through their group, fragmenting their earthen binds with the flat of his blade. Primrose, Shurra, and Scarlette checked their limbs upon being released, but Molam saw Martyker''s dumbfounded expression. He followed the man''s gaze and felt equally shocked.


    "Molam?" Primrose shouted. "Are you alright?"


    Molam didn''t know what to think as he watched Roxxa engage the echo. He had only thought of how to trick Roxxa into activating the Sage''s Mirror, but gave no thought as to what she could possibly summon. It was a younger version, but there was no mistaking the imitation hooked staff with the ruby inset.


    "...Master Flangel?"

 Ch 51: Challenge

    I know the Gods mock us. They created us to crave peace then gave us an endless capacity for violence.


    Or is the order different? We crave violence and vainly wish for peace?


    Perhaps I have lived so long I can no longer tell the difference.


    ¡ª Excerpt from Meditations, by the Red Emperor


    <hr>


    Primrose dragged Molam to his feet, noting his dangling arm and wondering if Molam couldn''t finish healing himself. "It''s just an echo, it''s not the real one," she shouted at him. The earth shook and the Arena thundered as the Titled One and the echo fought fiercely nearby. "We got what you planned; now what?"


    Molam looked to be in a daze and Primrose resisted the urge to shake him, unwilling to risk injuring him further. The only solace was that Molam''s Domain had reasserted itself; but his shoulder still seemed unattached. The question surfaced again. Had he been forced to leave himself injured?


    "What are you doing, Prim?" Scarlette had also helped Shurra up, nursing her own injuries. "We need to leave ¡ª wake him!"


    Primrose shook Molam roughly in response, then layered aura into her voice. "Molam focus. We are about to die."


    ***


    "I wish you safe travels, Molam. If the chance comes, I''d like you to meet my granddaughter Nettie. And if you two get along, I hope you teach her to play dragon chess."


    Molam never had a chance to wonder if Flangel the Wise knew those would be his last words to him. Seeing the echo take on Flangel''s form brought these words back with a roaring crescendo of blood pounding through his ears.


    They had only spent several days together, but the former Prodigy had understood him. The man who carried the Wise Title had truly earned it; Molam found no other human to be close to his mentor in terms of wisdom. The achievement was more impressive if he accounted for the man having lived for only five centuries compared to his mentor''s countless ages.


    Then a voice thundered through his mind.


    "Molam focus. We are about to die."


    The words crashed through his thoughts, reminiscent of the time his mentor had raised their voice at him. The bubble burst around him and Molam''s eyes refocused, seeing Primrose''s face again. He blinked at the jarring disconnect between the voice and Primrose''s face. Red hot pain seared through his body and he fell to his knees, clutching at his injured shoulder. "We need to leave," he grunted through the pain. "The echo might lose. We can''t stay to find out."


    "Where to?" Primrose knelt down, trying to hoist Molam up again.


    "Sanctuary," Molam wrapped his good arm around Primrose''s shoulders, testing his legs. He could still move. "She''s weak from her fight with Master Ji, but the gap between us and the OutCast is too large. We need to reach Sanctuary while the echo keeps her occupied."


    "That way," said Madam Scarlette as she pointed to an exit that would bring them closer to Sanctuary. They took several steps towards the exit, picking up speed as they found their bearings.


    Then the ground in front of the exit erupted, a wall of earth shooting up to block their route. The Arena''s stands rumbled behind them, the stone foundations crumbling with a violent vibration before exploding outwards in a shower of rubble. The OutCast''s voice coughed through the debris.


    "Leave the Oracle''s vessel behind."


    The group spun around, readying their weapons at the Titled One''s advance. She limped through the broken structure, poleaxe in hand and fresh bruises on her body. "I''m not interested in the rest of you, but he stays."


    The staff''s hook extended out from the dust behind the OutCast. She sidestepped the staff''s strike, then ducked under the reverse pull of the hook. The movement caused her to stumble on her weak side, causing the hook to snare her shoulder and spin her around.


    The tug of war lasted for the brief moment Roxxa needed to regain her balance, then she dug in her heels into the ground to jerk her body backwards. This pulled the echo out into view to engage Roxxa, forcing her into defense once again.


    It didn''t hesitate to utilize the forced momentum from Roxxa''s pull into an explosion of movement, unhooking its staff as it approached at rapid speed in a sliding motion across the uneven ground. The strange sliding movement continued, making it look as though the echo was ice skating across the cracked earth, circling the OutCast while couching its hooked staff in its hands like a spear and giving no indication as to where it would strike.


    Roxxa stomped the ground and the Arena''s ground responded in an eruption of spikes, stabbing upwards into the echo''s tracks. Only the area within Molam''s Domain was spared ¡ª everyone instinctively retreating from the sharp spikes to crowd around Molam at the center.


    The echo twisted around several spikes as they grew, then reached out with its staff to hook a protruding earth for leverage to swing into the air out of the reach of the growing stalagmites. Its trajectory was perfect; as the earth''s pull took over again, the echo used the downward momentum to position its staff in a falling attack straight at the OutCast.


    The maneuver targeted Roxxa''s weak side, resulting in an awkward parrying of the staff as the echo crashed down on her. The echo didn''t hesitate at Roxxa''s momentary disorientation to deliver a kick that broke through her guard, following it up with a barrage of attacks and movements that saw it circling around the OutCast, using both its hooked staff and the new earthen formations to dance around Roxxa''s reaching limbs and attacks. A pirouette saw it duck underneath the Titled One''s axeblade where it spun around with a palm strike against her back, sending the OutCast careening into the Arena''s seating area and smashing her right through the walls.


    Without stopping its sliding motion, the echo twirled around another spike and launched itself after the OutCast, disappearing past the rubble. The complete collapse of that section of the Arena and ensuing commotion told Molam that the fight had spilled out into ZhiXia City.


    "This is our chance to move and get to Sanctuary." Molam muttered, pointing to another exit. "The echo can''t hold her forever." He took a step and found Shurra''s arm blocking him.


    "Shurra?"


    The Northerner shook her head. "The Traitor is weak. Didn''t you see? This is an opportunity to kill a Titled One. We need to focus on helping the echo."


    "Shurra, listen," Molam tried to remember the conversation between Shurra and Roxxa from earlier, looking for something he could use. The sound of clashing outside the Arena sounded like buildings falling¡­ or were buildings falling, judging by the impact tremors reverberating throughout the ground. "I understand there''s bad blood here but Roxxa is still a Titled One. Master Ji did his best to keep us out of the fight for a reason."


    Again, a shake of Shurra''s head. "The echo is her equal. We can tip their duel against her."


    "We barely survived this far." Molam couldn''t even believe this was the same Northern Warrior who had threatened Lyka to not interfere with her own duels, but here she was proposing to interfere in one. Shurra''s pressed lips spoke of stubborn, grim enmity. "Did you learn nothing from the fight earlier? The OutCast had all of your lives in the palm of her hand! The only reason none of you are dead is because she seems to be respecting the Festival''s traditions!"


    "We don''t have time for this, my dear." Madam Scarlette hooked her hand around Shurra''s arm, her voice soothing. "Hasn''t your leader issued an order?"


    "But is that an order from him as the leader?" Shurra asked softly. The Madam''s light tugging did not move Shurra. The Northerner''s light blue eyes stared down at Molam, her imposing arm still blocking his path. "Or is that a command from someone who wants to flee for his life?"


    "Shurra!" Primrose barked as the ground quaked, shaking sections of the destroyed Arena into rubble showering down around them. Something ¡ª several somethings ¡ª crashed to the ground outside. Molam, Shurra, and Martyker fought for balance while Scarlette and Primrose seemed to let the shockwave flow through their even footing. "Is now the time?!"


    But Shurra refused to budge, her unblinking gaze focused on Molam alone throughout the earth''s tremors. "If you''re wondering why now, it''s because I acknowledged the Traitor to be overwhelming earlier. But now she''s injured, and an echo that is her equal is her opponent. This is as much as we can ask for! If now is not the time to move in for the kill on one of the Empire''s Titled Ones, then when?" Shurra''s voice went quiet, the glint in her eyes sharp and lethal. "I''m waiting, Molam."


    Molam took a deep breath, meeting Shurra''s gaze despite the throbbing pain in his shoulder. Seeing as no disagreement would work, Molam nodded. "You are right that the OutCast''s life is within reach. Which two of us would you like to sacrifice with you?"


    Shurra''s look of triumph froze. A lengthy pause as she seemed to hear his question. Then, a look of shock flitted over Shurra''s features, one that lingered on the others around them. Her mouth opened, but she paused before her eyebrows knit together. "What¡­ do you mean?"


    "You''re right in that we stand a chance of killing the OutCast," Molam said testily. Shurra''s hesitation was "but it won''t be without cost. Conservatively¡­ three lives." He gestured around their group, making sure his broken shoulder dangled in front of Shurra. "If you believe it''s worthwhile, tell me which other two of the ones gathered here you think should die here with you." Meeting Shurra''s gaze, he straightened his back. "I assume you''d include yourself, yes?"


    "You helped us fight back the Tempest with no casualties," she pointed out.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    "Circumstances were different and I assure you that would have ended differently if she had chosen to fight to the death," Molam''s mouth was dry, but he did not flinch away. "You want the OutCast''s life? Who here are you willing to lose to make that happen?" He pointed at Martyker and Scarlette, "They''re not part of the Dao, I can''t command them. So just you, me and Primrose, no?" Molam gestured. "Like I said, it can be done." He hoped Shurra was as unwilling as he was. "Your choice, Shurra."


    "The echo is supposed to be equal to her in power," Shurra argued. Her held arm quivered in front of Molam, but she refused to lower it. "We can assist without exposing ourselves to danger."


    "Shurra," Martyker stepped in with a look of forced patience, "If opportunities were so easy, wurms would feed on birds. We cannot ¡ª" Martyker fell silent at Molam''s hand on his shoulder.


    "I understand your goal, Shurra," Molam turned back to Shurra with a look of understanding. "But what do you think her goal is?"


    Everyone stared at him, but Molam kept his focus on Shurra. She hesitated, then asked, "Why do you ask?"


    "I''m asking whether you are willing to risk letting her achieve what she wants in order to get what you want?" Molam pressed further, "It''s important to think about what your opponent wants. You think she wants to fight the echo? She wants my life, Shurra. She didn''t kill any of you despite having the opportunity to do so, which tells us her focus. If you agree, then she will have achieved her objective so long as I die, even if she loses her life too. Are you ready for that?"


    A long pause as Shurra seemed to think it over. Good. Molam only needed to show her there was more than one way to victory.


    "We can make it her loss by making sure she can''t accomplish her goals, Shurra," Molam broke the silence first. "She would have gone through all of this for nothing. And we can make it our victory by reaching Sanctuary alive. Our goal is to survive. We win if we do that. All of us." He patted Shurra on the arm. "I hear and understand that you don''t want to run from the OutCast when she''s in this situation, but there will be other opportunities. I''ve given you my reason for choosing to go to Sanctuary now." Every second he spent here meant getting closer to the inevitable end in the fight between Roxxa and the summoned echo, but he forced himself to stay calm and relaxed as he prodded Shurra for a choice. "Will you retreat to Sanctuary with us?"


    Shurra took a deep breath, then exhaled just hard enough to puff out her cheeks before she nodded. "To Sanctuary."


    ***


    The Sun blazed overhead when they ran outside the Arena into ZhiXia City; it was barely past noon. The ground shook and the sound of rubble echoed through the empty streets. Based on the sound of the destruction, Molam guessed that Roxxa and the echo were fighting somewhere between the Arena and Sanctuary.


    The Domain surrounding them hadn''t disappeared, and Molam shouted to the others, "Don''t leave my Domain without a good reason until we reach Sanctuary."


    Without speaking, the group instinctively took the longer route to avoid the ongoing fight, moving towards ZhiXia City''s center instead of going straight for Sanctuary. He looked down the road, appreciating whomever had had the foresight to design the streets of ZhiXia City like a fan. Though they were taking a detour to avoid the OutCast, the City''s layout meant that their distance to Sanctuary hadn''t changed so long as they moved laterally. No doubt the empty streets proved the residents had fled towards Sanctuary to take shelter from the fighting.


    No one said anything, but everyone matched their pace with Molam''s; his dangling arm, still useless, jolted with pain with each step he took. Perhaps the feather had determined it more important to exert a Domain over healing him.


    As they ran, the ongoing fight between the OutCast and Flangel the Wise''s echo reached a fever point elsewhere. A shower of rubble exploded into the air and they covered their heads, protecting themselves from falling debris. For some reason, it felt as though the fight moved laterally as they did, but Molam hoped that was just his imagination.


    "Our fight against the OutCast didn''t show this level of destruction earlier," observed Primrose. She kept an eye upwards as she ran, dodging nimbly to the left and right as small rocks rained down about them.


    "Probably no reason to bring out her full strength against us," Molam responded shortly, saving his breath for running. He had no idea how she and Scarlette kept pace with him while wearing dresses, but they did not lag behind. "The echo''s a different matter. It''s her equal."


    "Is it possible the echo will win?" Shurra asked hopefully, her large strides to his side making her look like she was just doing a normal jog. She had a hand over Molam''s head, knocking aside falling pebbles and rocks before they could hit him. "The Traitor is both injured and tired from her previous fights."


    "Battle Alchemists have their strengths in their unique tools. Unless the echo can replicate Master Flangel''s tools, the echo is also not fighting at full strength." Martyker shrugged, the flat of his greatsword held over his head, clinking as the falling debris rattled against it. "Getting the OutCast to summon a Titled echo was already as much as we could hope for in that situation."


    They continued forward in silence. The detour to avoid the fight in the city''s center had brought them to the Pleasure District. Molam recognized it as the street he had been on just yesterday ¡ª HuaLang Chamber was just down that corner.


    Primrose, who ran slightly ahead of the group, turned to wait for them as they caught up while she scouted down the empty streets. With a quick gesture that it was safe, the group turned right and began running towards YiZhi Mountain and Sanctuary. Soon, the pillars of Sanctuary were visible in front of them, with just three cross streets before they reached it. A small stream of residents could be seen, shuffling into the sacred complex as pairs of Priestesses in their pure white robes directed the flow of the crowd.


    Primrose frowned, her eyes glowing purple, her cheeks tinged with a hint of rosy red from the exertion of running. "The Oracle''s Domain isn''t there."


    Molam felt his heart skip a beat. What did that mean? "There should be another." He prayed it was there. "The Submerged Leviathan''s."


    Primrose squinted. "Yes," she confirmed a moment later. "I see it. I suppose that light blue is usually overshadowed by the Oracle''s pure white."


    "I don''t know what the Oracle is doing, but if the Leviathan hasn''t shown herself then Sanctuary should still be safe." Molam felt his lungs begin to ache, but did not dare slow his pace. He was already slowing down the others. "Once we get inside, we can¡ª"


    The ground beneath them rippled, shaking to and fro. One could almost be forgiven for confusing it with EarthShaker''s presence somewhere far away. Molam lost his balance; when he instinctively used his arms to regain balance he felt an explosion of pain from his useless shoulder that sent him to his knees. The others fared slightly better but were in various stages of struggling to maintain their balance.


    Buildings toppled over, concentrated on their right. Several large thuds, then a thunderous boom. Silence, then something crashed into the street before them with a large cloud of dust. The impact slid across the street, spewing up dirt, gravel, and stones. When their vision cleared, the OutCast''s large form grappled with the echo on the ground; both of them sported injuries that looked to be lethal on anyone else.


    "I guess this Domain is an easy beacon to follow," Molam forced himself to speak through his pain. Whether planned or due to sheer coincidence, Roxxa now blocked their path to Sanctuary. Though he was no fighting expert, Molam immediately suspected that the echo being pinned down would end their fight. If the echo was defeated here, they would be helpless. "We need to attack the OutCast. Don''t let her kill the echo. Now!"


    Primrose and Scarlette sprung into action, sprinting forward in a flutter of colors. Their arms blurred through the air; daggers and needles flew through the air at Roxxa as the Northerner brought up her weapon for a killing blow.


    Roxxa blocked the barrage of needles with the flat of her poleaxe; the echo struck from below, hooking its legs behind Roxxa''s knee and jerking her down. Primrose''s daggers flew in a moment later, two of them burying themselves into Roxxa''s arm. With an angry roar, Roxxa shoved the echo down into the ground and drove her knee into its chest, her mangled hand holding it down by its head.


    The two women didn''t hesitate, taking advantage of Roxxa''s situation to accelerate their approach. Roxxa looked up and brandished her poleaxe ¡ª but the real attack came from below in the form of earthen spikes piercing the ground they ran on.


    Primrose swerved and somersaulted through the air, her red-orange hair billowing in the wake of her movements with its blue satem flowers. A spike caught on the hem of her dress and tore straight through the cloth; Primrose reached down and ripped off the lower half of her dress, revealing tight black leggings underneath. Hooked blades appeared in her hands, which she used in a manner similar to the echo, hooking the spikes as they emerged to help her move about and dodge the OutCast''s attack.


    Scarlette sidestepped each spike as they emerged below her, stepping lightly side to side in a swish of crimson folds. The attacks began coming at her from uneven angles, forcing the woman to bend, vault, and slip through in an astonishing display of acrobatics. When the eruption of spikes slowed down, Scarlette rose upside down through the air atop the last stalagmite, balancing neatly with a firm grip on its tip. She flipped over onto another spike, landing on her feet and sliding down its side as she flicked her fingers at the ones within reach ¡ª one by one, they crumbled at her touch.


    Shurra had launched into the air in a mighty jump, clearing the field of spikes alongside Primrose and Scarlette. After the women cleared the field of spikes, Shurra charged forward, joining the other two women to rush Roxxa once again. The echo had somewhat freed itself from Roxxa''s hold during the earlier distraction, struggling to escape Roxxa''s grasp on its ankle. When Primrose, Shurra, and Scarlette approached, Roxxa looked up with mild surprise, then her face took on an expression of grim determination.


    "You have my praise."


    The OutCast''s eyes glowed orange and she slammed the butt of her weapon into the ground.


    It looked as though all three women tripped on nothing. Shurra fell to her knees, her sword clanging to the ground as she braced herself against the earth''s pull, both arms straining to keep her body from flattening down. Scarlette and Primrose had both crashed against the ground mistride; their folded arms braced against the impact, now pinned underneath their bodies.


    By the time Molam realized he was seeing the full effects of Roxxa''s Domain, he and Martyker were already running forward as fast as possible. Just like the time when the Tempest restricted people from breathing, Molam needed to counteract the effects of Roxxa''s Domain with his own.


    More earthen spikes erupted, blocking their way as they dashed forward. Martyker ran first, his greatsword cleaving through the obstacles to open a path for them as they ran to aid the others. The echo took this chance to strike Roxxa''s head, throwing off her concentration as it freed itself from her grasp and retrieved its staff.


    The perimeter of the feather''s Domain covered the three women to immediate effect: they breathed a sigh of relief and pushed themselves back to their feet, rubbing at their elbows, hands, and knees.


    "What now?" asked Primrose, the purple glow of her eyes focused on Roxxa''s fight with the echo. "She''s between us and Sanctuary. Do we take another detour?"


    "No, she''s clearly tracking us." Molam shook his head. "Or at least, me. And without this," he gestured at the Domain, "We probably aren''t moving anywhere. None of you need to be here," he added. I don''t want any more people dying on my account, he didn''t say. But for some reason he couldn''t bring himself to say it, as though giving it a voice would make him feel the weight of those that must have already died in the OutCast''s rampage. Instead, he said, "I don''t think the OutCast will stop any of you if you try to reach Sanctuary another way."


    "Enough from you about that! Staying with you isn''t for you to decide." Shurra shuffled, ensuring she was between the group and Roxxa''s fight at all times. "How about you focus that head of yours on deciding what we''re going to do about this?"


    Molam looked at the rest. Primrose shrugged, Scarlette''s pose indicated polite interest, and Martyker''s white teeth beamed at him from behind the bushy beard. No one said anything about leaving.


    He sighed. "Then I hope you have all lived a fulfilling life with minimal regret?" Molam looked around. The words, customarily said in the Free Cities before an encounter with the Empire, were the polite way of asking if everyone had made peace with their death. But none of them seemed to change their mind.


    The fight between the echo and Roxxa reached another breaking point, with the echo being knocked back down to the street. Martyker had been right; without the tools of alchemy, the echo of Flangel the Wise could not match against the injured OutCast''s raw strength. But all was not lost; when Roxxa turned towards Molam, the echo hooked her feet out from beneath her, causing her to stumble once again.


    "Very well. Listen up. We''re close. Sanctuary is only three streets away. That must be why the OutCast is no longer holding back her aura." Molam rubbed a knuckle on his temple, piecing together his thoughts. "The primary goal hasn''t changed: We use the echo as a diversion and reach Sanctuary. If we do, we win. More importantly," he added while looking at the group around him, "We survive."


    "Primary implies secondary." Scarlette''s veiled gaze honed in on him. "What other goal would we have here?"


    "If the OutCast is stubborn about this and we can''t break through¡­ we may as well try what Shurra wanted." Molam grimaced, his gaze honing in on Roxxa, his mind wondering if it was truly possible.


    "Attempt to kill a Titled One."

 Ch 52: OutCast

    For some, the years most spoken about for Roxxa Norrad¨®ttir were the years she held the additional Title "Who Seeks Defeat." As the Title implies, she spent several years searching for an equal opponent in the Northern Tribes before turning her sight towards Crescent City, marching upon it alone in search of Shoss Avalanche, Crescent City''s defending Titled One.


    To her dismay, the Avalanche had been temporarily assigned to HaiFeng City in the aftermath of an attack from the Formosan Islands. Roxxa climbed Crescent City''s walls and invaded the City Lord''s Mansion where she declared herself a guest, waiting for the Avalanche''s return so they could duel.


    She received her duel several days later, but the one who answered her challenge was the Prince of the Empire.


    ¡ª Excerpt from Those Who Serve, by Scholar Tory


    <hr>


    Third Street, ZhiXia City


    Primrose wasn''t entirely sure what to think about Molam''s hurriedly explained plan. But there was no time for disagreement as Molam continued talking. She resolved to see how things played out, but promised herself that she would absolutely kill him if they died.


    "We''ll need to stay flexible as we approach, but there are three things of note to keep in mind," Molam held up three fingers. "First: the OutCast has established her Domain outside of mine, but her Domain seems limited to the ground. If you''re not protected by my Domain, stay off the ground whenever possible. Second: do everything in our power to enable the echo, but steer clear and don''t get close if the echo is engaging the OutCast. Its attacks won''t differentiate if we get in the way of its target. Third: if I ever give a command that makes no sense, remember the first and second items and act with one rule in mind ¡ª you are your role."


    They fanned out in formation. Just like when they had approached the City Lord''s Mansion in JiangXi, Molam had once again assigned them roles based on the pieces in dragon chess so the five of them could arrange themselves based on their identifier. Shurra was the Vanguard, responsible for engaging on the OutCast and staying close to her. Martyker was the Spear, looking for a chance to strike a critical blow. Primrose and Scarlette were the Assassins, lethal if ignored, meant to keep the OutCast searching and wary of her surroundings at all times.


    The clash between the echo and OutCast sent a loud shockwave of energy rippling through the street, and Primrose gripped her daggers firmly. Despite the echo''s loss of a hand and the OutCast''s copious injuries, their fight was still something to behold. The echo was good, no doubt about it. A splendid display of spear and staff arts, with the hooked end of the staff being a tricky problem to deal with. She could appreciate the surprising difficulty of not only dealing with the staff''s reach as it jabbed at an opponent, but needing to be aware of the hook as it was yanked backwards each time.


    "Now." Molam''s clear voice ordered, and the five of them approached the OutCast from behind, under the protection of Molam''s Domain. Primrose dashed to the side and leapt up a stall, bouncing to the roof of a nearby building, taking care to only leave Molam''s Domain when she was far away from the ground. From the corner of her eye, Primrose saw Scarlette take a similar path on the other side of the street.


    The first phase of Molam''s plan: get past the OutCast. Either they would aid the echo and slip past, or they would engage the OutCast directly and push past by force.


    The OutCast turned as they approached; Shurra jumped on her the moment Molam''s Domain provided cover. Roxxa met Shurra''s charge with an angry snarl, but Shurra''s force drove her two steps back, giving the echo time to free itself from the poleaxe pinning it to the ground. With a tremendous shove, Roxxa forced Shurra backwards, then held her hand out. The poleax, having been thrown to the ground by the echo, quivered and flew back towards Roxxa''s hand.


    But Shurra would be caught in its return journey. Primrose launched two daggers ¡ª one to intercept the weapon, and the other off to the side. Scarlette had scattered a barrage of needles at Roxxa from the other side, and the Titled One protected her eyes with her free arm while the metal pieces bounced off her skin.


    Primrose''s first dagger clanged against the poleaxe, throwing it off its trajectory just enough to spare Shurra from being impaled by the returning weapon. Poleax in hand, the Titled One looked up at Primrose, then looked down again, her glowing orange eyes narrowing in concentration at the approaching dome of flames that heralded Molam¡¯s approach. Roxxa raised her weapon, then flinched as the other dagger swerved in at an impossible angle and buried itself in the back of her shoulder blade.


    Martyker''s aim had been true. Primrose felt a rush of relief; Molam had suggested it on a whim, but for Martyker to be capable of maneuvering a blade like that on his first try impressed her.


    Primrose and Scarlette immediately disappeared over the rooftops. Scarlette would probably do what Molam had asked; listen for any individuals who needed help and help them away from the fight. Primrose would relocate her position as needed, staying in the OutCast''s blind spot atop buildings whenever possible.


    Truth be told, Primrose thought of the OutCast as one of the worst opponents for her and Scarlette''s skills. She had already broken four of her blades against the OutCast''s skin; no doubt Scarlette''s needles had also found little penetration. The OutCast''s reinforcement seemed impenetrable so long as she knew their attacks were coming.


    But thankfully, that worked both ways. Molam meant for their role as Assassins to keep the OutCast wary and uneasy, always on the lookout for their next attempt. Primrose dashed to the next roof, leaping over the gap between buildings. The rest of the group was relying on her to fulfill her role.


    ***


    Molam watched Roxxa drop her weapon and make a vain attempt to reach the blade buried in her back; unfortunately for her, the hilt was buried deep at an awkward angle where her hand could not reach.


    The echo took this chance to attack her from behind ¡ª but its forward step gave away the jab and Roxxa sidestepped it. A twist of the wrist brought the hook around the side, and a backwards yank aimed to trap Roxxa''s neck; she brought up her arm to block the loop, then twisted the arm out to pull the echo forward alongside its weapon while delivering a backwards kick into the echo''s stomach.


    The echo attempted to pivot away from the unaimed kick and took a glancing blow, throwing it off balance. Roxxa spun around and brought her mangled hand down onto the echo''s shoulder in a brutal chop, sending it to its knees. Before it could recover, the OutCast had shoved it down again and reached for its throat. The two scuffled, with the echo prying apart Roxxa''s hand to prevent her fingers from closing around its neck.


    Shurra entered the fray, her sword slicing at Roxxa''s neck. The Titled One leaned backwards to dodge it, but Shurra stepped into the swing, bringing her other foot backwards in a wide kick towards Roxxa. The kick landed straight into Roxxa''s stomach and the blow sent her sprawling backwards a short distance, landing on her back. Molam briefly hoped the fall would cause Primrose''s weapon to bury deeper into her back before the ground beneath the Titled One surged like rippling water, catching the Titled One as she landed.


    A flutter of bright colors near the rooftop saw silver flash through the air, forcing Roxxa to roll to the side. She spun around, dodging the flying needles then ducking under the dagger aimed at her heart. Upon touching the ground, Roxxa spun around to snag the second dagger ¡ª thrown by Primrose and curved by Martyker ¡ª out of the air before it could pierce her neck.


    Molam had taken that chance to run as fast as he could down the street, barely taking the time to kick the echo''s fallen weapon towards it as he passed the first cross street. The hardest part had been to get past the OutCast. Thankfully, it seemed she had thought they came for a fight. They had successfully maneuvered around her without losing anyone and now just two more streets stood between them and Sanctuary.


    When the cross section of the second street came up, the ground in front of him rippled. The street itself lifted ¡ª one, two, three, four stories high, becoming a solid wall of earth blocking his path forward. He looked to the left and right ¡ª solid buildings with a few tiny alleys. Before he could make a move, earth spikes exploded into the interiors of the buildings and the alleyways. They left holes too small to squeeze through, effectively sealing them off.


    He swiveled to see Martyker and Shurra backing up towards him, the Titled One bearing down upon them. Roxxa''s poleaxe pointed straight at the earthen wall she had summoned as their blockade, a limp in her walk as she bled from multiple wounds, one eye closed from the blood dripping from a gash in her eyebrow. A large rock formation behind her could only be imprisoning the echo.


    "You''re proving to be a bigger problem than I expected." Though she panted with effort, Roxxa''s glowing orange eye gazed steadily on Molam. "Your little diversion has cost ZhiXia City dearly. Do you value your life so much that you are willing to spread misery to others?"


    Molam ignored her biting question. "Martyker, hold the line ¡ª the Assassins will attack the moment the OutCast shows an opening." It was half a bluff; he didn''t know where Primrose and Scarlette were hiding and could only hope they were nearby. "Shurra, come here."


    Martyker took a step forward, his greatsword gleaming at the ready. He stared down the approaching Titled One, "Don''t put the blame on others, Roxxa. This destruction stems from you alone."


    Meanwhile, Molam pointed to the spikes near the building out to Shurra. While the raised street in front of him posed a smooth wall with no purchase for climbing, some of the spikes jutted out of the buildings. Combined with the preexisting windows and ledges, Molam saw a way up. Shurra frowned, clearly unhappy that this was what Molam wanted, but nodded with understanding.


    "Martyker." Roxxa limped forward, walking towards the edge of Molam''s Domain. "Your father doesn''t care for you or your ideals. The Prince even offered you a place with us after you tried to kill him because he saw value in what you want to do for Oasis, don''t you see that? The Prince understands you, so enough with this nonsense." She coughed out more blood, but did not take her eye off them. She wiped the blood from her eye with the back of her hand. "Step aside, and when we''re finished with our business here, the Prince will help you with Oasis when he wakes up. He has always kept his word."


    "It''s not that I don''t trust his promises. But it has been several decades since he spared me after taking my right arm," Martyker paused, watching the OutCast limp forward. "I''ve seen more of the world outside of the Endless Sands in that time. Everywhere I went, I saw that Oasis isn''t the only City with problems. Every time I look into why, it always comes back to the actions of the Empire." Martyker flourished his greatsword, drawing a line at the edge of Molam''s Domain with the blade''s tip before stabbing his sword into the ground behind it. The line sent a clear message to all who saw it. "Don''t you understand, Roxxa? The Empire''s success is built upon the pain it inflicts on others."Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    "But I completely understand." Roxxa lowered her poleaxe as well. She paused near the edge of the line, right outside the red Domain. Even stooped from limping, the Northerner stood taller than the Oasian. "I also hail from a region compelled to enter tributary agreements following the Frost Saint''s Rebellion."


    "Then why? Why betray your people?" Martyker asked. "Why betray everything the Frozen Saint fought for?"


    "I don''t see my actions as betrayal." Roxxa''s voice bristled into a growl. "They''re too focused on their own pain and wounds to see that the Prince is right; that it is Creation itself that needs to be changed. The Great Mother was misled by the Oracle and brought more pain upon the people ¡ª yours, and mine." She put her weapon under her arm and held out her good hand to Martyker. "And now, your father is too focused on his own pain to care about you. But the Prince understands, Martyker!" The hand reached forward, palm up. "He left you alive because he believed you merely needed time to see the world as it is now, in order to understand what it could be."


    "I do see what the world could be." Martyker reached out his hand as well, but only to grasp the hilt of his weapon. "One where the people don''t worry about the next warpath the Empire takes in its folly to reach Heaven. One where the general populace, those who just want to live their lives, aren''t disregarded just because they inconvenience some grand plan." The greatsword gleamed as he grasped it, pulling it out of the earth. "We chose different paths, Roxxa. Our values are completely different."


    "I see." Roxxa, her hand spurned, reached slowly for her poleaxe. "That''s the third time you used my name."


    "I see nothing wrong with that. Names have a purpose," Martyker replied. "We should use them for their intended purpose."


    "I''d like to see you address the Prince by name."


    The swordsman paused, then said, "Perhaps I will if I ever see him again, Roxxa. Just to see how the rest of you react. But if you so insist on being addressed by your Title," he stepped closer to the Domain''s perimeter. "Then the Armed Swordsman will address you by your Title, OutCast."


    "The ''Armed Swordsman?''" Roxxa did not seem impressed. "You gave yourself a Title? Are you even deserving when you cower under another''s Domain?"


    Poleaxe swung and greatsword flashed ¡ª their weapons clashed in a firework of sparks, each ear-splitting ring heralding another round of heavy swings and nimble parries. Roxxa feinted a blow, then stabbed forward with the tip of her poleaxe. Martyker pivoted to the side, the poleaxe piercing through the space where he would have an arm and brought his blade up in a speedy cut, using the greater reach of his blade to slice at Roxxa''s body. The Titled One, still maimed, failed to react in time and greatsword''s tip drew a large gash across the inside of her thigh.


    Yet the OutCast didn''t flinch. "Your resolve fails you. You weren''t willing to step into danger to capitalize on that opportunity." Roxxa stepped forward, pushing through the Domain''s perimeter and ignoring the flames that attacked her body ¡ª her mangled hand found Martyker''s wrist, her working thumb applying all of the pressure in the grip. "Let me show you how it''s done!"


    Silver flew through the air, aimed at Roxxa''s eyes. She leaned backwards, avoiding the needles as she yanked Martyker out of the Domain to throw him back towards the earthen cube containing the echo. Sharp earthen spikes emerged from the cube at Martyker''s uncontrolled approach; the swordsman flung his sword, then made a pulling motion. The greatsword curved through the air to shave off the spikes just before he slammed painfully into the cube.


    Roxxa''s gaze had already honed onto Molam and Shurra, who were almost finished scaling the building together. The OutCast pointed at them with her poleaxe, but the earth within the red Domain did not answer her call. Roaring with frustration, Roxxa raised her arm then slammed the point of her weapon into the ground, sending spidery cracks throughout the street.


    The earth groaned, then the center of the street shuddered and caved in; the buildings on either side of the street tilted inwards, threatening to keel over.


    Slam. Again, the OutCast struck the ground, the buildings teetering further.


    Shurra and Molam, caught on the underside of the toppling building they were scaling, redoubled their efforts. Molam hung on for his life as Shurra made one final lunge to reach the top.


    Crack.


    The flung poleaxe shattered the ledge Shurra had aimed for. With no further handhold, the two of them tumbled back towards the ground, the building collapsing down onto them.


    ***


    Sanctuary


    They are worse than disasters. They understand the consequences of their actions, yet proceed regardless. What is that but willful destruction?


    That was how Komura''s mentoring Priestess had once shared her own experience surviving a close encounter in a fight between Titled Ones, but Komura had always found it hard to believe. Yes, Komura had seen the geographical remnants of some fights, but it had always been something where the knowledge was told, rather than experienced.


    And though she had heard the OutCast was in the City, the explosions and scenes of destruction had seemed smaller from far away. Perhaps a bit rougher than the battles of other auramasters, but the distance proved misleading. When the ground quaked and one of the streets collapsed in on itself, Komura did not know what to think. Instead, she acted almost on instinct, rushing forward alongside her fellow Priestesses to save as many as they could of those that hadn''t yet made it into Sanctuary.


    The faster of the Priestesses rushed past first, their white robes a blurry streak over the crowd of incoherent residents who screamed with fear, trying their best to outrun the imploding street. ZhiXia City''s own peacekeepers, known as the Sharks, were already in the fray, doing their best to save as many people as they could. Panic permeated the crowd that lined up in front of Sanctuary, and people screamed and begged to be let in for their safety.


    The other Priestesses did what they could to secure the people without crushing anyone in the panic. Priestess Komura even saw the older boy that Molam had brought back from JiangXi, the one named Bryce. He had joined hands with the Sharks to help.


    But none of them could stop buildings from falling.


    ***


    Second Street, ZhiXia City


    Primrose fought to run towards the building that had collapsed atop Molam and Shurra. She signaled towards Scarlette, hearing a piercing whistle in reply as the two of them fulfilled their roles to prevent the OutCast from finishing off Molam.


    "Until you see someone''s dead body, proceed as though they''re still alive and can fulfill their role."


    Molam''s guiding commands repeated themselves in her head as she vaulted over the scenes of destruction. She made a beeline towards the OutCast as the injured Titled One limped towards the building burying Molam and Shurra. On the other side, Martyker had picked himself up on the ground and was pounding away at the echo''s earthen imprisonment.


    With just four blades left; she flung one directly at Roxxa as she crested over some debris, not stopping to see if it hit while continuing her run down the shallow ditch. The sound of the blade clanging to the ground was all she needed to hear.


    Ping.


    Primrose veered at the sound of Scarlette''s signal, dashing straight up a fallen beam and launching herself towards the OutCast, blades in both hands. On the other side, Scarlette had done the same ¡ª Primrose saw one of her earlier daggers in Scarlette''s hand.


    The two of them dropped down on the Titled One, and that was when she heard Shurra''s voice shout from within the collapsed building. "Molam!"


    Followed by Molam''s primal, raw scream of pain.


    Then Molam''s protective Domain flickered out.


    ***


    As the air rushed around their falling bodies, Molam experienced a moment of clarity. For every outcome, there was one last moment to make a decision to avoid it. And as the earth''s pull took over, now was the last moment to make a decision if he wanted to reject the possibility of death.


    He tugged at Shurra''s shoulder, interrupting her movement as she instinctively twisted herself to attempt a landing. Their eyes met and the moment passed; he could only hope Shurra understood.


    Shurra wrapped her arms around Molam''s body and rotated them so she would take the brunt of the fall. They hit the ground, the impact sending the air out of Molam''s lungs and further pain shooting up his shoulder despite Shurra using her body as a cushion.


    Shurra rolled over immediately, getting to her feet and standing over Molam as he struggled to get his bearings. The collapsing buildings and earthen wall loomed over them, and she reached over to pick him up before she dug her feet into the ground, bracing herself against the toppling building.


    "Molam, get up!" she shouted, looking up at the building on the other side as it leaned precariously over them. "Now!"


    Molam willed himself to his knees, but it was too late. The other building, not designed to lean at this angle, cracked ominously. Shurra abandoned her position and ran over to shield him from the falling chaos. Bricks, stone, straw and planks collapsed around them, filling the space outside of Shurra''s arms.


    By the time everything had finished crashing down, the ground had rippled twice with tremors. Molam and Shurra panted with exhaustion, their arms, shoulders, and faces dripping with blood from where debris had struck them. Dust choked the meager air they had, filling his nostrils and coating his tongue with slime.


    A large slab of wall leaned over them, which Shurra shouldered with shaking arms. The sound of clashing steel and shouts raged outside of the rubble trapping them, and Molam realized that he had no idea what was happening to Martyker, Primrose, or Scarlette. Had they been caught in the collapsing buildings?


    "Molam?" Shurra''s voice shook, tinged with exhaustion as she braced herself against the leaning wall. "Can''t hold¡­ forever."


    Shakily, Molam found his bearings. Small rays of light poked through the debris. Molam looked for the largest. He pointed so Shurra would understand, then leaned back and kicked at the darkness above it, feeling something give. So it wasn''t blocked on the other side. He kicked again, the force of his kick only doing enough to shift whatever it was. But it was enough to give him some space. He flipped himself, bracing his good shoulder and shoved hard.


    The upturned table slid away. Molam crawled out of the opening and into a sideways family room; the fall of the building had brought it right on top of them. Shurra came up behind him, her larger size causing her to grunt as she pushed herself through the opening. The two of them looked at each other as they caught their breath, the sound of fighting emanating from outside.


    "All hunts should be sensible," Shurra shook her head, wiping away the blood trickling down her brow. "And the Traitor says I''m stubborn."


    "I think," Molam began, then cleared his throat and spat out a mixture that contained more dust and dirt than saliva before he continued, "I think it''s a characteristic of you White Bears. Hereditary, even." He tried to scrape the sensation off his tongue with his teeth, but his mouth was too dry.


    A loud creaking brought their attention upwards; a wall panel made of rock hung loosely above Molam.


    "Molam!" Shurra shouted with alarm.


    The two of them reacted as it fell ¡ª Shurra''s hasty step saw her foot sink right through the cabinet she stood upon and she stumbled onto her knees; Molam fell backwards on uneven footing. He fell onto his back, choosing to use his working arm to protect his head.


    The pain exploded in his midriff, traveling up his body and manifesting as the tangy taste of blood in his mouth. His throat felt raw, and only when Molam heard his own voice did he understand it was from his roared pain. Vision blurry, Molam coughed up blood as he stared blankly at the rock slab crushing his torso.


    The overwhelming pain in Molam''s abdomen made the pain of his shoulder pale in comparison. He no longer breathed, but choked painfully through the blood in his throat for air.


    Shurra pulled herself free of the ruined cabinet and ran towards Molam, heaving the rock wall away from his torso. The vibration of the movement brought fresh pain searing through Molam, but all he could do was gag breathlessly through the excruciating agony.


    After Shurra set aside the rock wall, she turned and swore at the sight of Molam''s wound. Or at least that''s what Molam thought he heard as he ebbed in and out of consciousness, then his vision went black.


    The last thing he heard was Shurra shouting his name.

 Ch 53: Cacophony

    Roxxa EarthCaller''s duel with the Prince took place at a location once known as Mooneye Plateau on the border of the Northern Plains, just north of Crescent City. Only the greatest auramasters in Crescent City and from the Northern Tribes dared observe the fight in person; the more safety-conscious had only gathered at the nearby villages to claim proximity to such a rare event.


    We collected various testimonies by interviewing those willing to discuss what they saw ¡ª the notes and transcripts can be found in the latter section of this compilation. The duel lasted a mere hour and resulted in the formation of Mooneye Lake where Mooneye Plateau once stood.


    More importantly, Roxxa offered the Prince her head after declaring her loss. To everyone''s surprise, the Prince praised her tenacity and skills instead, telling Roxxa that she was a warrior worth fighting. Upon hearing this, Roxxa pledged to serve the Prince in exchange for his guidance.


    This blindsided the Northern Tribes, particularly the White Bears, who were particularly devastated by the loss of a pillar of their tribal strength. To this day, many Northern Tribespeople refer to Roxxa Norrad¨®ttir as Roxxa the Traitor.


    While there are probably few that dare utter it in her presence, I have heard less savory terms in private.


    ¡ª Excerpt from Those Who Serve, by Scholar Tory


    <hr>


    In front of Sanctuary


    As Komura cradled the two boys and their mother, she felt the weight of their trembling forms in her arms. Terror gripped at their bodies and Komura tried desperately to shield them from the chaos raging around them, but each thunderous crash and agonized cry threatened to shatter whatever semblance of safety she could offer.


    Images of faces she couldn''t save haunted her. The last look of several faces had imprinted themselves onto her mind, their desperate expressions pleading for salvation morphing into a moment of stark, profound clarity. It was the critical point where the body realized something the mind had yet to accept: their fate was sealed and nothing could be done besides accepting God Yven''s call.


    Some would scream. The noise deafened. But worse was when the screams cut off to sudden silence ¡ª the absence of sound weighed heavier on those who still lived.


    Shouts echoed inside Sanctuary. Komura looked around, seeing some Priestesses with a pained look in their eyes as they tried to stay calm and in charge of the residents attempting to take refuge. But even some of the Priestesses seemed overwhelmed by the harsh reminder of their mortality, kneeling down with the others to rock back and forth in paralyzed fear.


    Komura closed her eyes, trying to hear her own thoughts over the cacophony of anger, disbelief, and grief. The danger was real. The OutCast did not care for the consequences. The people would die.


    And her own thought surfaced too, in the voice of her own mentor Priestess Ori.


    All you can do is save as many as you can.


    ***


    Second Street, ZhiXia City


    Molam gasped awake. His body seemed to be bathing in fire, then the pain in his abdomen spiked at his sudden intake of breath. In mere moments, Molam had learned of a vicious new cycle of pain whenever he reacted and he soon degenerated into silent gagging, hesitant to take anything more than short breaths.


    It felt as though a lengthy time passed before the pain softened to an angry itch, then a light throbbing sensation. When Molam could breathe again, he found himself in the fetal position on his side. He did not dare move at first, not trusting his body to function without further punishment.


    "Molam?"


    Molam looked up with blurry vision, seeing Shurra''s giant shadow. The Northerner''s features, caked with dirt and mud, came into view. Her normally expressionless face looked ghostly pale as her light blue eyes stared at him. He blinked, then realized the sticky liquid running down his chin onto his chest was his own blood, dripping from his mouth.


    "You''re alive?" she asked in disbelief. "But¡­ your lungs. Your ribs¡­"


    "I¡­" he wheezed, then stopped. His throat still felt raw, the sensation one would have if they spent the last day shouting themselves hoarse.


    "Wait," he croaked the syllable at Shurra. He lay there, unwilling to move. The immediate pain was gone ¡ª it was the fear of a fresh wave of pain that kept him from moving immediately. But he couldn''t afford it; they were still in the middle of a battle.


    Slowly, cautiously, Molam rolled over onto his back, testing his body in small wary movements. He tilted his head, checking for fractures and wincing at the dull ache in his neck. Head seemed okay. Left shoulder and arm¡­ good. Right shoulder ¡ª he sucked in a rattle breath. Something was still painful and had yet to heal. Panic coiled around his chest, mixed in with the pain from earlier. Was his right arm dislocated? Broken? Why hadn''t that been healed? But he could do nothing about it; he forced down the panic and moved on, hoping it could be addressed later.


    A hand clenched ¡ª good, so the fingers still functioned. He didn''t want to move his torso yet, so Molam turned his attention down to his legs. The right leg worked, and the left leg was stiff. The only thing preventing him from moving was sheer pain, so he willed his body to move slowly, feeling the tense muscles stretch out once again. The itching throughout his body continued to be concentrated on his midriff; he did not dare look, content with waiting for the healing to finish.


    "Molam?" asked Shurra in a tense voice.


    "Alive," he managed to rasp out. "Wait."


    The wait seemed agonizingly long, and his ears picked up the sound of fighting somewhere. The enemy was still out there. But he couldn''t do anything about the speed, only practice meditative breathing until the itching eventually subsided into an angry buzz.


    Molam tensed himself, checking his body again. The shoulder was still useless. The stiff leg was probably unable to display the full range of movement, but it should allow him to stand. He looked up at Shurra, reaching with a hand. She pulled him up to his feet, then caught him when he stumbled on his injured leg.


    "Should you be moving?" Shurra asked in a worried tone. "I can''t believe you healed that. Your spine looked snapped. At least five ¡ª no, ten healers would have been necessary¡­"


    Molam pointed at his useless shoulder so Shurra could see he wasn''t whole, then limped towards her.


    "There," he pointed upwards. Far above them was a window, affording an easy way out of the building they were trapped in. "We move," he rasped. They couldn''t afford to be stuck here; if the OutCast hadn''t come to confirm his death, then the others must be delaying her. They would need help without a Domain. "Now."


    Extricating themselves from the debris, they emerged blinking into a scene of destruction. Molam could not believe his eyes. The street had collapsed in on itself, the buildings on either side toppled over the middle. A thick haze of dust smothered the air, making it difficult for Molam to find the source of the fighting he heard. Broken bricks and shattered glass littered the ground around them, and the scent of the Festival''s food and drink could still be detected. All of the stalls had been upended, their contents disrupted and spilling into the chaos left by the violent upheaval. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    It had been one thing to read about the fighting abilities of Titled Ones and see some of the geographical remnants of their battles; it was another to experience it. The OutCast looked gravely injured, but she was brute forcing through all the obstacles they could muster as though it were just rice paper.


    How had Master Ji suppressed four of them by himself?


    "The Traitor had this much left in her?" Shurra shook her head. "Why not use it earlier?"


    "She said it as much," Molam turned slowly, nursing his shoulder as Shurra followed him. He found that it did not hurt as much if he whispered instead of using his throat. "She wanted to avoid killing anyone else to respect the Festival. Or perhaps she wanted to hide her fatigue from fighting Master Ji, because I imagine she needs to conserve enough aura to escape too. But now we''re closer to Sanctuary, I think she can no longer hold back."


    When the dust began to clear, they saw the continuation of their previous fight. It seemed the echo had been freed; Molam suspected Martyker had taken the chance to break through its prison when Roxxa threw him there. Even with only one hand each, the echo and Martyker occupied most of Roxxa''s attention as Primrose and Shurra attacked from afar, leaping around dilapidated buildings and staying off the ground. Any missed daggers or needles were quickly returned to the women via Martyker''s ability.


    But the flow of battle seemed different. Martyker and the echo were keeping Roxxa in place. The echo invaded Roxxa''s immediate space with a surprising display of hand to hand combat; its staff was nowhere to be seen, perhaps destroyed earlier. The tip of Martyker''s greatsword wove in and out her space as well, nicking her at times as he looked for opportune moments to cut and stab Roxxa from behind the echo''s onslaught. The greatsword moved with deceptive agility, and Molam suspected Martyker applied his aura in ways that pulled at the tip to achieve such sharp maneuvers.


    Roxxa stood her ground, diverting her attention between blocking and parrying their attacks while keeping an eye looking about, responding to the intermittent flashes of colorful clothes flitting between the dilapidated buildings. She minimized her movement, choosing to dodge Primrose''s blades with just a pivot of her good leg and warding off Scarlette''s thrown needles with her injured hand.


    What changed? Molam couldn''t quite place it at first, but then he realized: Roxxa was only defending herself.


    And then the OutCast noticed him and Shurra standing afar. A brief look of shock passed over her face, then her features darkened along with a change in her fighting stance. A great swing of her fist made Martyker and the echo step back, then she stomped forward on her good leg, bringing forth a surge of spikes. Martyker, clearly hobbled from an earlier injury, brought the flat of his blade up to block the attack as it surged down the remnants of the street. The force of the blow sent him flying upwards, where he flipped over in midair and landed awkwardly next to them on the fallen building, favoring his left leg.


    "A tree without leaves is not dead!" Martyker''s voice contained both surprise and relief. "When your Domain disappeared¡­ I thought the worst."


    The echo was not so lucky. Slowed by its multiple injuries, the echo could not move in time to avoid two spikes impaling it: one in the stomach and the other in its left thigh. The OutCast limped slowly up to the struggling echo, holding out her weapon as she deflected Primrose and Scarlette''s projectiles with her other arm.


    Shurra made to move, but Molam gripped her arm. "No."


    "But the echo¡ª"


    Roxxa raised her weapon and beheaded the echo. Molam grimaced; though he knew it wasn''t real, it still felt as though he was seeing Master Flangel die in front of him. The aura-created body dissipated, and the OutCast wiped the blood from her eyes before looking up at them again, those twin orange glows focusing on Molam.


    "I see your Domain is gone, and yet you live." As she limped towards them, blood flowed down from her temple and the tens of open wounds laced across her body. Her clothes hung in tattered rags, revealing bandaged breasts and tattoo''d scars. The fingers on her left hand, still crushed from her fight with Master Ji, did not seem to bother her. She coughed without breaking eye contact. "You''re a surprisingly hard one to kill, vessel of the Oracle."


    I''m not sure I want to hear that from you, thought Molam, but did not want to waste his voice replying. He backed away from the edge of the building, scanning around them. The destruction of the street had caused the earthen wall to fall down towards Sanctuary, providing them a clear path through half of the street.


    Molam gestured at the others to come close, taking stock of the situation. He hoped that Primrose and Scarlette were still aware of their roles, staying close but out of sight. The echo was no longer and none of them could hope to match a Titled One. Though they had needed to join the fight, the echo had still accomplished what he was hoping it would do. Titled or not, the OutCast had skirmished against the Whale of ZhiXia, suffered multiple injuries, broken herself out of Master Ji''s imprisoning ice, fought an echo meant to be her equal, then unleashed a wide-scale attack that seemed to have decimated a third of ZhiXia City. Her injuries were worse than before and her aura reserves couldn''t be unlimited.


    After a moment of consideration, he spoke through his pain. "This has gone on far longer than I expected."


    Martyker guffawed grimly. Shurra shook her head, as though disappointed Molam had nothing more important to say.


    "She can''t have that much aura left," Molam continued his thought. Or so he hoped. The OutCast had surprised him at least twice now.


    "I certainly hope so. All of us are low," Martyker muttered. "But are we certain?"


    "Did she use her Domain when mine disappeared?" Molam asked pointedly.


    Martyker shook his head.


    "Then I''m reasonably certain." Molam winced at his pain. "She abandoned her Domain to rupture the earth in her attempt to kill me. I have no aura for a Domain, but she no longer has her greatest advantage. Our goal hasn''t changed; we move to Sanctuary now."


    Shurra nodded thoughtfully, "With her leg like that, outrunning her will be possible."


    "We''ll force the OutCast to choose." Molam winced at the pain of limping forward, his finger pointing to the fallen wall of earth. "If I head straight to Sanctuary, she will become impatient to stop me. Shurra and Martyker, the two of you harass and delay her from a safe distance. Be a problem, but only attack when her focus is on me. I want none of you to risk your lives ¡ª hear me?"


    The Oasian sheathed his greatsword with a smooth, practiced movement, catching up to Molam in four giant strides. "You look half dead. One of us should accompany you, on the off chance she does catch up to you."


    Molam began to protest, but his next step saw his knee buckle. Martyker caught him, helping him back to balance. "And to help you actually reach Sanctuary," Martyker added in a cheeky tone. "As my honorable master bid me to do."


    "Fine. Shurra, remember to not put yourself in danger, especially if you think there''s an opening for you to kill her. She might try and bait you with that. Even without her Domain, the OutCast may still be keeping a few tricks in reserve, like when she broke out of Master Ji''s restraints. We don''t want to be surprised again." Molam paused, then added, "When you make your first move, move in such a way that draws out the OutCast''s Domain if possible. Scarlette and Primrose don''t know yet, and it''s good to confirm. We should do our best to share what we think we know."


    Shurra reached forward as though she would pat him on the shoulder, but stopped upon seeing Molam''s look of reproach. "Sorry, I forgot," she apologized for almost touching his shoulder, then added, "I''ll keep that in mind. We can''t let her win. Don''t die." Then Shurra bounded away without waiting for Molam''s response.


    "I can''t tell if she cares for my life or just hates her aunt," Molam grumbled, looking down the street towards Sanctuary. Since when did a single street seem to be so long?


    "Maybe both," Martyker replied, grinning at Molam. "The secret to smiling is always assuming the best of others. Anything specific for me?"


    "Walk with me, but backwards," he told the swordsman. "So you can keep me informed as to what''s happening. This way I can focus on walking forward."


    Molam faced down the last stretch between him and Sanctuary. Far down the street, he saw the last bit of people trickling in between Sanctuary''s large pillars. It looked¡­ so far. Since when has a single street looked like such a long distance? He took a deep breath, murmuring almost to himself, "All we need to do is survive."


    "Sometimes, surviving is all that needs to be done for us to see the light of another day." The man faced the other way, as Molam had instructed. "From one cripple to another."


    Molam looked down at his shoulder, then at his leg. "This will heal. The Priestesses are skilled."


    "I wasn''t speaking of your shoulder." A pause from the swordsman. "You seem¡­ unable in some other way?"


    The statement sent Molam''s heart rate jumping. Did he know? Molam kept his voice even. "What do you mean?"


    "I can''t quite tell, but something about the way you act and speak reminds me of¡­ well, myself. When I was still struggling with learning to use my left hand for everything." Martyker shrugged, then patted Molam''s good shoulder. He continued in a serious tone, "Or maybe I''m just imagining things. I don''t know what it is you''re struggling with, Molam, but I want you to know that you''ll get through it."


    Molam paused midstep, then laughed despite himself. The unexpected kind gesture seemed absurd to him considering their dire circumstances. That it came from what had been a stranger just yesterday made it somehow more comical. "I would like to get to know you better after this, Martyker."


    "It''s the Armed Swordsman," Martyker winked at him from behind his beard. "But I''ll allow you to call me by my name, Molam."


    "The Armed Swordsman," Molam corrected himself with a raised eyebrow. Not the most bizarre of Titles, but he was not about to question the man''s naming sense. Perhaps Martyker and Kalle would get along. "Let''s go then."


    Molam took his first step. His shoulder jarred painfully and his injured knee protested, but Molam did not stop. Sanctuary was just ahead. If he reached it with everyone alive, it was their win.


    Limp. Step. Limp. Step.


    One step at a time.

 Ch 54: Discord

    Consider this the first law of laws: in a society of humans, emotions will always rule.


    ¡ª Excerpt from Meditations, by the Red Emperor


    <hr>


    First Street, ZhiXia City


    Relief flooded Primrose''s body when she saw Molam emerge from the rubble with Shurra. Relief, coupled with alarm. The bottom half of Molam''s shirt and upper half of his pants were covered in blood. He carried himself with evident pain, limping alongside Shurra and Martyker. Perhaps that was why his Domain had gone; he had needed to heal an injury and could no longer sustain it.


    Moments later, Molam and Martyker made their way towards Sanctuary while Shurra walked back. Primrose understood that Molam was prioritizing their primary objective, though she didn''t know if it was the right move. But there was no time to call out to him or interfere with his plans; Molam had clearly given his instructions assuming she and Scarlette would continue adhering to their roles.


    She looked down towards the OutCast, who had already limped to the wall she initially summoned to block off Molam''s escape. Primrose could scarcely believe the Northerner was still moving with the amount of wounds on her body. A ruined hand, with the fingers bent at unnatural angles. Cracked ribs; both sides, judging by the way she walked. Her blood trailed down in half-dried smears that covered some of the tattoos decorated throughout her body.


    The woman''s orange aura had withered from its original towering flame, now more comparable to an auramaster''s. And yet the uninterrupted flow of that orange aura told Primrose the enemy''s will to battle remained steadfast. The OutCast had no second thoughts about continuing and seeing this down to the end.


    When the OutCast reached the earthen wall, she sank her poleaxe and foot into the wall and began climbing. The movement impressed Primrose despite herself; the balance must be ungainly, but the Northerner was nothing if not determined.


    Primrose gripped her weapons. Six blades left. She had taken the chance to pick up some of her earlier daggers, replenishing her options. But Primrose hesitated. Now that Molam''s Domain was gone, she was unsure of what she should do.


    To continue harassing the OutCast and look to be a deadly blade from a blind spot? If she left the safety of the rooftops, she wasn''t sure if she could survive the OutCast''s attention. She remembered the feeling of her own weight crushing her within the OutCast''s Domain, and was not keen on experiencing it again.


    Or to follow Molam, make way towards Sanctuary? Was that the correct move, one that Molam expected her to take? Moreover, what was Scarlette thinking? If they both chose differently, their efficiency may halve. Was Molam gambling on them to do the same thing? Different things? Something she hadn''t thought of?


    In the midst of her indecision, Primrose saw Shurra poke her head over the fallen wall. The Northerner saw the OutCast and dropped down on her with a roaring war cry. The Titled One flipped herself to the side along the wall to avoid Shurra''s short sword, but Shurra''s arm caught onto her leg as she fell by, dragging the two of them back down towards the ground. Shurra leapt up first, rushing down the OutCast in a tackle that did not allow the woman to fully regain her bearings. The OutCast, no longer as limber as she was, swung her poleaxe at Shurra, who dove to the side and reached for her sword. The gesture caused the OutCast to bring up her guard, but Shurra backed off, perhaps a bit slower than Primrose expected.


    Primrose had expected Shurra to attack the OutCast outright, but Shurra stayed out of the OutCast''s range. Shurra only stepped in the moment the OutCast turned to scale the wall, forcing the Titled One to turn each time; but never lingered long enough for a true exchange of blows. It seemed so calculated and unlike Shurra that Primrose understood it to be Molam''s instruction; attack without putting themselves in danger, and force the OutCast to choose between fighting them off or chasing him.


    And then Primrose realized.


    The OutCast isn''t exerting her Domain.


    She whistled loudly, hearing Scarlette''s own high-pitched answer a moment later. Primrose then sprinted forward to reposition herself closer on a closer vantage point.


    Without a Domain, the OutCast would be blind to attacks from all angles. This¡­ perhaps this could work


    ***


    Halfway Up First Street, ZhiXia City


    Step. Limp. Step. Limp.


    Molam buried his throbbing pain underneath the rhythm of his steps, using them to keep his mind focused. Each step accompanied an intake of breath. Each limp heralded a rattled exhale. His vision blurred from exhaustion and the dull ache of his body, but Molam did not allow himself a moment to rest. He worried about collapsing if he broke his rhythm and stopped.


    "Molam," Martyker broke the silence almost hesitantly. "Roxxa''s shown herself."


    "What''s she doing?" Molam kept his eyes forward, resisting the urge to stop and turn around. Martyker would be his eyes; he just needed to keep moving forward, one step at a time.


    "Somehow climbed to the top," said Martyker as he kept pace with him. "The other three aren''t making it easy for her. Each time Roxxa takes her attention off them, they move in." He squinted, then amended, "Or, move in just enough to be dangerous. With her leg like that, she can''t respond to them in time."


    "Nor can she catch up," huffed Molam. He found himself smiling grimly despite the situation, wishing he could turn around to see this. It couldn''t have been easy for the OutCast to climb to the top with a mangled hand and lame leg while under attack from those three. They played their roles as Vanguard and Assassin perfectly.


    But the pain still coursing through his body forced him to hobble towards Sanctuary, one agonizing step at a time.


    The swordsman looked at him. "We could make this faster, if I just carried ¡ª"


    "No," Molam interrupted. "Keep your hand free. We don''t know what the OutCast is trying to do. In fact, ready your weapon: she''s on the same level as we are now." And, if she somehow closes this distance, I don''t want you to be collateral damage. I want you to be able to protect yourself. He left his fear unsaid.


    Step. Limp. Step. Limp.


    The Oasian drew his greatsword, his eyes still on the fight behind Molam. "The two pretty ladies are very good," Martyker praised, warm admiration in his voice despite their grim situation. "They strike from Shurra''s shadow, or whenever Roxxa has her back turned to them. Precise and deadly, like sand vipers waiting for the perfect strike."


    "That''s good to hear," Molam muttered. "I just hope they remember to also get into Sanctuary once we''re close."


    Sanctuary loomed just ahead. Some Priestesses within, cloaked in their white robes streaked with dirt and blood, looked out at his approach. He could not see their expressions as he was just barely halfway down the street.


    Step. Limp. Step. Limp.


    Martyker squinted his eyes, peering at the fight. "Oh. Hm. That''s," the swordsman paused, as though unsure what he was seeing. "Odd."


    "Yes?" Molam prodded, half annoyed. None of that was pertinent information given their situation. "Is she catching up?"


    A shake of the head. "No, she hasn''t moved. But she''s manipulating the earth again. The others can''t exactly¡­ approach her anymore."


    Molam tried to picture it, but Martyker seemed terrible at describing what he was seeing. He sighed, then shuffled and turned around to see what Martyker was talking about.


    He squinted as well. What was the Titled One doing?


    Roxxa faced them, standing inside a concave wall of earth that protected her back and sides. So that was what Martyker meant by the others being unable to approach; it would be folly for them to run up to the OutCast from the front.


    "I can understand the protection, but it looks like she''s taking a stand there," Molam frowned. But why? The OutCast just stood there, focused on her poleaxe. Even her eyes no longer glowed, evidence she had stopped using her Sight. The earthen shield only protected her back so long as she was in it; could she shift it along with her like the ripples she did earlier. No, he thought, that couldn''t be the case. She would have done so already if she could.


    "Has she given up the chase?" Martyker asked hopefully. "She''ll need to leave ZhiXia City eventually, at least before my honorable master returns. Perhaps she''s gathering her aura to escape?"If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    "I''m not sure, but we aren''t safe until we''re in Sanctuary." Molam shook his head. Focus. Sanctuary was right in front of them. "Remember, we win by getting to Sanctuary alive. That''s it." His gaze lingered on the Titled One, thoughts still wondering what she was up to. "So long as she can''t¡­ reach us."


    It didn''t make sense. Roxxa was stubborn ¡ª perhaps even more so than Shurra ¡ª that much was obvious. She had continued to chase him despite sustaining injuries that would have downed an actual bear; why had she stopped? What was she trying to accomplish now?


    The OutCast, brows furrowed with concentration, raised her weapon, and Molam''s mind raced through a multitude of possibilities in that moment. Some he discarded immediately. It wasn''t possible for another blow that could shatter the ground ¡ª if the OutCast was capable of that, she could have used her Domain to restrain Shurra and the others.


    What else could she do? Throw her weapon at him? Certainly, Molam''s impaired leg made him an easy target. But at this distance, even if her aim were true, Martyker should be able to block the weapon.


    Her concentration seemed focused. Was she gathering her aura? Roxxa had just shown she could still manipulate the earth, but they were too far for her to affect the ground around them. If they were within her reach, she would have already attacked them; he no longer had a Domain to keep out her influence.


    Distance mattered the most here; they were too far for Roxxa to attack in any reasonable manner. Though there were no obstacles, Roxxa''s own injuries prevented her from catching up to them while being harassed by Shurra, Primrose, and Scarlette. Molam assumed that if she hadn''t given up, then she should have seen a path ¡ª but what other options were available to the OutCast?


    The answer came to him just as the OutCast slammed her weapon down. "Martyker, get ready to ¡ª!"


    The ground rumbled beneath their feet and the OutCast''s side began lifting into the air. Molam stumbled forward, bracing himself with the flat of his arm into a painful forward tumble, rolling down the increasing incline. How had he not seen it? They were effectively on one giant slab; Roxxa only needed to make it easier for her to reach him. A singular spike shoving upwards on her end was all she needed to give herself the high ground, and now she could simply fall down upon him.


    The world blurred in Molam''s vision as he half rolled, half slid down the incline, fighting to control his fall. His one working arm flailed wildly, scrabbling for purchase. Each impact against the incline jolted his crippled arm and leg. The pain did nothing to help him reorient himself, even as each tumbling rotation brought him a new angle of the OutCast sliding down towards him, her weapon held at the ready. Far above her, Shurra also slid down after Roxxa in hot pursuit, with Primrose and Scarlette bringing up the rear.


    Martyker stabbed his greatsword into the earth block, stopping himself mid-slide and giving himself leverage to swing around and kick Roxxa as she attempted to pass him. The OutCast blocked the kick, but it sent her skidding off to the side, throwing her off course from Molam.


    Having barely oriented himself, Molam saw the ground rush towards him. He braced himself and bounced into the ground, slackening his jaw to avoid biting his tongue when the impact jolted his body despite his attempt to soften his landing in a rolling motion. He rolled three ¡ª three and a half ¡ª times before he came to a stop, struggling to breath through the pain. Something rough, perhaps a rock or something worse, dug into his shoulder.


    But there was no time to get his bearings. Molam braced his good arm underneath him, pushing himself to his feet and stumbling back towards Sanctuary that was right in front of him. Shurra landed next to him, her short sword gleaming in her hand, her attention focused on the enemy.


    The OutCast reached the ground with steady footing despite her injured leg. She looked up, then raised an arm to block the needles aiming at her eyes. Scarlette and Primrose fluttered down, touching the ground silently.


    "Shurra, no!" Molam''s shout came too late. A swift movement saw Shurra lunge into Roxxa''s reach, her sword flashing for the Titled One''s neck. The ground beneath Shurra''s instep cratered, causing her to lose balance ¡ª the tip of her sword buried into the ground instead. Primrose pulled Shurra out of danger as the poleaxe swung downwards, flicking a gleaming blade into the air. Scarlette leapt over Shurra''s shoulder to grasp the blade and bring it down upon Roxxa, who abandoned her weapon too late to avoid the blade digging into her shoulder, barely missing the neck.


    A bellowing roar and a swipe of anger sent Scarlette sprawling to the ground. The next moment, Roxxa grasped and flung her poleaxe straight towards Scarlette before she could regain her footing; Shurra snagged the weapon by its haft in midair, the carried momentum dragging the large woman off her feet. The weapon struck the ground just near Scarlette''s head.


    Seeing Roxxa without her weapon, Martyker dropped down upon her from above, his greatsword raised for a killing blow. The OutCast turned, pulling Shurra''s sword out of the ground and throwing it straight at the swordsman, who could not dodge in midair.


    The flung sword separated the swordsman''s arm from his shoulder.


    "Martyker!" Someone screamed. Molam wasn''t sure who. Perhaps it was him. Perhaps it was either Primrose and Shurra, who were dragging him towards Sanctuary.


    The Armed Swordsman''s eyes slid from his lost arm to the greatsword, then hardened into grim resolve. Teeth gnashed ¡ª the sword''s hilt flew to his mouth ¡ª and the swordsman brought his blade down upon a surprised Roxxa, cutting halfway through her shoulder.


    The resulting bellow of pain almost deafened everyone in the vicinity. Before Martyker could react, Roxxa drove her knee into the Armed Swordsman''s stomach. The impact forced his jaw loose, whereupon she grabbed him by the neck and threw him to the side. Blood from both of their injuries smeared throughout the ground, following Martyker as his body rolled lifelessly down the street.


    Seeing Molam almost reach Sanctuary, Roxxa pried the greatsword out of her shoulder. She pulled back her arm, then lost her footing as the weapon pulled the other way, attempting to return to its armless owner. With a growl, the OutCast let go of the greatsword and pulled Primrose''s dagger out of her shoulder instead, flinging the blade at Molam.


    Primrose snatched the dagger out of the air, couching the weapon into a semicircle momentum where the blade almost cut Molam''s nose. Scarlette harried the OutCast, then the poleaxe flew through the air, narrowly cutting Shurra''s neck as she attempted to approach Roxxa. A wide swing missed as Scarlette somersaulted out of Roxxa''s range. The Titled One wasted no movement, carrying the swing around and over her head to hurl her weapon at Molam.


    Gong.


    The sound reverberated throughout Sanctuary. The thrown poleaxe quivered in midair between two of Sanctuary''s pillars before falling to the ground.


    "No!" Roxxa snarled, continuing her forward approach. A knee crashed into her back from behind, knocking her face down to the ground. Then Martyker was on top of her, his legs holding her down by her neck and shoulders.


    "Did you relax because you thought me disarmed?" the Oasian growled. "That my resolve would crumble?"


    The Titled One bucked, a primal roar erupting from her throat as she tried to dislodge Martyker from her back. But the Oasian clung to her back with surprising tenacity. The remaining dagger buried in Roxxa''s back pulled itself free at the swordsman''s silent command. Martyker bit the handle with his mouth and brought the blade down on the OutCast when a blinding flash of yellow slammed down from above in a deafening boom.


    "You''ve caused a big mess, Roxxa." The Islander braced his foot against Martyker''s shoulder, yanking his bloodied harpoon from the man''s chest. He paused, turning around to view the scene of destruction on the street behind him. "And when Ruskru hears of this, we''re all in a mess."


    No. The thought echoed in Molam''s head as Martyker''s body fell to the ground, the static remnants of the Islander''s attack spider-webbing across the Oasian''s body. No. Strong hands gripped at his shoulders; he realized Scarlette and Primrose were both holding him down. He had almost crossed Sanctuary''s perimeter.


    Roxxa barely acknowledged Desmi''s words as she attempted to rise to a knee, pointing at Molam with a shaky finger. "The Oracle''s vessel. We need to deal with him now."


    Yellow glowing eyes turned on Molam. Upon closer inspection, the Islander''s clothes were torn and shredded, exposing multiple wounds. A ghastly gash split his left ear and a purple bruise was beginning to form under one eye. It seemed their fight with the Whale had left the Islander worse for wear too.


    But where was Master Ji?


    "And I thought you were supposed to be the level-headed one, Roxxa. He''s within Sanctuary," Desmi shrugged, turning back to his comrade. "You know that''s the Leviathan''s Domain."


    "We can force him out." Roxxa took a step forward, but Desmi stopped her with a firm grip on her arm.


    "Any more and we''d have no excuse for disrespecting the Prince''s wishes, Roxxa. We''re leaving ¡ª the Whale is returning and now is not the time to be stubborn." He shouldered the OutCast despite her protests. "Oof, they did a number on you. Even Ruskru will have difficulty healing this. Got your poleaxe? Good."


    "You think you can just leave after this?" Shurra stood up, her hands balled into fists.


    "Oh." The Islander turned towards them, giving them a cheerful smile and salute with his harpoon. "Of course. I apologize on Roxxa''s behalf for the¡­ chaos. If it helps, please consider this part of the Martial Prowess event." He flashed a grin at her, his perfect teeth white against his brown skin. "Happy Festival of the Hero!"


    Silence. The collective crowd seemed dumbfounded at the Islander''s declaration. Then Shurra leapt forward, her sword pulled back and ready to strike. By the grim determination on her face, she had no intention of letting Roxxa leave while she was so injured.


    "Shurra, no!" Primrose cried out.


    A yellow bolt of lightning lanced through Shurra''s body the moment she left Sanctuary''s border, sending her sprawling to the ground.


    "You weren''t the one we wanted," the Islander told her as he lowered his harpoon. "Though I commend you for mustering the bravery to charge a Titled One. Or was Roxxa too gentle with you all?" His eyes traveled back towards Molam, whose chin was still being held to the ground. "You have good friends, vessel of the Oracle. I believe Rei called you Molam? Just one more step and we could have had a good explanation for Ruskru. But there''s still this one ¡ª" he pointed to Shurra, who was motionless on the wet ground. The Islander raised his harpoon, then froze. He turned to look down at the street, where water was seeping in.


    Desmi looked up to the green form flying towards them. "Rei?!"


    "We''re leaving!" the Tempest shouted from above as she flew by, her own clothes torn and several bleeding wounds on her arms. "If we don''t leave now, we won''t be able to!"


    A maelstrom of green wind engulfed the Islander and OutCast.


    Desmi heaved Roxxa onto his shoulders, then looked almost apologetically at them all. "Next time then. I sincerely apologize it had to happen this way." The harpoon stabbed downwards into the ground instead. A brilliant flash blinded the onlookers; several blinks of the eye later and all three Titled Ones were gone.


    All that was left outside was the destroyed street and the rising water level.


    Primrose breathed, looking down the street. "The Whale of ZhiXia."


    The Whale of ZhiXia walked up the street, a wall of water following behind him. His normally expressionless face now carried a look of simmering anger, and the water wall trickled through the ruined street, collecting dead bodies as he arrived. Nettie''s exhausted face peeked out from within a soaked bundle of cloth in his arms.


    When Master Ji walked up to them, the wall of water lowered itself, gently depositing the dead onto the ground. Then it did not so much disperse as evaporate into steam.


    Nettie, for her part, stayed perfectly still as her waterlogged clothes became dry. She had a look of terrified apprehension, but overall seemed unhurt.


    Molam felt a wave of relief. The Empire hadn¡¯t managed to capture Nettie. They didn''t have an alchemist capable of building the SunFlower.


    But the girl seemed confused.


    "Uncle Marty?"

 Ch 55: Cripple

    Perhaps we live to fulfill the story of how we die.


    ¡ª Notes from Flangel the Wise''s journal


    <hr>


    Molam''s gaze fixated on Martyker''s motionless body. Not because of me.


    "Primrose, Scarlette. Find a Priestess healer and let me go to Martyker." Molam did not know if his tone was pleading or commanding. Was it even possible to be both at the same time? "Now."


    The hands released him ¡ª he shoved himself up and forward. In his haste, he went off balance and stumbled to his knees, but he didn''t care that it stung. He forced himself to his feet again, cursing his crippled shoulder and leg.


    Step. Limp. Step. Stumble.


    When Molam reached Martyker''s body, he dropped to his knees.


    "Martyker," Molam''s throat clenched at the sight of the swordsman''s injuries. Martyker''s left arm was simply gone; Roxxa''s merciless blade had managed a clean, horrifying slice through the shoulder. Desmi''s harpoon had ripped a hole straight through the man''s chest, leaving him in a pool of his own blood.


    Martyker coughed, spewing more blood into his thick beard. His eyes fluttered open. "Molam?"


    "It''s me," Molam answered, cradling Martyker''s head. Why was it so light? "The battle is over. Roxxa left. We''re alive."


    "Molam. I¡­" The swordsman shifted, then blinked, looking down at himself. "Ah. Right. I''m armless now."


    Molam''s fingers trembled as he tried to think about what he could do. "A healer''s coming. Just¡­ just hold on. It''s not too late, we can still reattach ¡ª"


    "Not this time, I''m afraid." Martyker smiled, a trail of blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. "Oh. Honorable Master."


    A shadow loomed over them. Molam looked up to see Master Ji''s towering figure, and then Nettie dropped down from the Whale''s shoulder, landing on uncertain legs.


    "Uncle Marty." She landed with a voice of disbelief. Then she ran towards him; Molam caught her before she could worsen the man''s injuries.


    "Not yet," Molam held on tight as she tried to tear away from his grasp. Small teeth sunk into his shoulder, but he ignored the pain as she fought him with a child''s strength. "Nettie," Molam forced his shaky voice to be gentle, "Stay calm. A healer is coming."


    "It''s fine, Molam," Martyker coughed. The force of the cough caused more blood to ooze out of his wounds. "Nettie, come here."


    The girl broke free from Molam''s arms and collapsed onto Martyker''s legs, hugging him tightly. Blood stained her clothes and skin, but she did not care as tears streamed down her face. "Uncle Marty. Uncle Marty. Uncle Marty."


    "Heh, I can''t even hug you back now." The girl squeezed her thin arms around him tighter, and the swordsman had a look of relief. "I''m glad you''re safe, Nettie. Or your grandfather would have never let me hear the end of it."


    Primrose ran up carrying Martyker''s severed arm, a pair of Priestesses following her. The older Priestess knelt down and inspected the swordsman, her touch gentle but firm. She didn''t even look at his arm, focusing entirely on the hole in his chest.


    "Well?" Molam demanded. "What are you waiting for?"


    The Priestess looked up at the others, then shook her head. "His heart has been fully destroyed." Molam''s blood ran cold. The heart and brain were two organs no healer could fix. The healer''s hands glowed as she drew them around Martyker''s ghastly wounds. "I can only stem the flow of blood. Right now, he''s only alive because he must be forcing the remaining blood in his body to flow with what aura he has left. But without the heart, when his aura runs out¡­"


    No. Then, "No." The word forced itself out of Molam''s mouth. Not Martyker. Molam looked towards Master Ji. The Whale of ZhiXia. Yes, Master Ji should have something. The former Commander of the Red Army, a Titled One with decades of experience¡­ "Master Ji?"


    The Whale''s face darkened, a storm brewing behind his eyes. Each person ¡ª even the Priestesses ¡ª fell silent while they waited for him to speak, because surely he had an answer.


    Then he spoke. "It is customary to bow three times when accepted as a disciple."


    "Master¡­ Ji?" Molam could not believe what he was hearing. Martyker''s injury¡­ did the man not hear? Martyker had no heart. Martyker was dying.


    "Help me sit up, Molam," Martyker told Molam. "I know only one of your arms still works, but if you help me up I''ll do the rest myself."


    Molam reached down with his working arm and brought Martyker up. Primrose knelt down to comfort Nettie as she sobbed into Martyker''s lap, attempting to pull the little girl away. The girl refused, tugging at Martyker''s clothes, but Primrose managed. Just like with Molam earlier, Nettie bit at Primrose''s shoulder as she struggled, refusing to be parted from Martyker.


    "Nettie, your Uncle Marty will tell you one last story, so listen carefully." Martyker''s voice seemed progressively weaker as Molam helped him to his knees. "Do you remember all the stories I''ve told you?"


    "Nettie doesn''t remember," the girl sobbed, struggling to break out of Primrose''s grip. "Nettie doesn''t remember anything of the stories you''ve told. So please¡­ tell Nettie all the stories again. Nettie wants to keep hearing stories about the Armed Swordsman."


    "Once upon a time, there was a man who wanted revenge for his siblings." With great difficulty, Martyker faced the Whale on his knees and bowed, touching his head to the ground. "He thought it would end his father''s grief."


    Molam looked up as though it would contain the moisture in his eyes, then looked back down again when the swordsman straightened up. The Oasian had done his best to protect him. He owed it to Martyker to watch.


    "Then that man failed, and saw that he would need to become a Titled One before he could try again," Martyker bowed again. Molam could not believe he could still make these movements with those injuries; the man must have been moving through sheer force of will. "He thought he could do this by going on a journey of self-discovery."


    Shurra had walked over. She started to say something, then fell silent when she saw Martyker''s injuries as he straightened up from the bow. Her mouth pressed into a thin line.


    "During his travels, he saw the Free Cities and how it needed more than just another Titled One." Martyker bowed one last time, the effort splitting his wounds and renewing the flow of blood. "So he thought it needed something¡­ more."


    Madam Scarlette laid a hand on the Whale''s arm. The Whale of ZhiXia said nothing, looking down as Martyker lifted himself up again. When Martyker straightened himself from the bow, the Whale knelt down to hold the man by his shoulders, a solemn expression on his face.


    "I accept you as my disciple, Martyker the Armed Swordsman."


    Molam had never seen that expression on Master Ji''s normally stoic face. The man, who normally looked in his late thirties, suddenly looked to be the centenarian he truly was. Sorrow etched deep lines upon his weathered face. His eyes, normally sharp and focused, carried a distant look as he looked into Martyker''s eyes.


    But more importantly, Master Ji had referred to Martyker by his Title. There were no set rules for being given a Title, but few actions legitimized it more than another Titled One respecting it.


    "Honorable Master Ji." The swordsman grinned. "I can now say this to you as your disciple. It is just my opinion, but steel does not need to be under the Sun to shine bright."


    "You have never been just a reflection." The Whale''s voice dropped lower. "You brought much light into the world."


    The words seemed to delight Martyker, who then looked to Molam and the others. "What''s with your faces?" His eyes misted over. "Don''t blame yourselves. You''ve done nothing wrong." Martyker looked towards Master Ji and Nettie. "Can you bring my sword to my father?"


    Nettie shook her head, wailing as she tried to reach Martyker with her small hands.


    "Don''t cry, Nettie. Remember: only upturned lips can catch happiness. Here. Let me show you."


    Martyker smiled for them, his pearly-white teeth shining through his blood-matted beard.


    Then he went limp in Master Ji''s arms.


    <hr>


    Later that evening, mursashu caravan


    "Mursa, may I ask a question?"


    "Oh? That''s rare, Jyuni," Mursa Shang looked up from his writing. Jyuni, her silky black hair rippling down one shoulder, returned his gaze impassively from her side of the desk. Ledgers were stacked between the two of them, which Jyuni was sorting out for Mursa Shang as he reviewed their current inventory. He was glad to see the caravan had suffered little in the destruction, confirming his decision to leave the Arena early. "You took the initiative to ask me a question."


    "I normally don''t need to wait for you to be talkative in private," Jyuni responded coolly. "You delight so much in foisting your wisdom onto me."


    "How hurtful, Jyuni, how hurtful," Mursa Shang chuckled. "Especially when I''m just trying to maximize the amount of knowledge I give you before God Yven invites me to his stony halls." He set down his brush. "You should practice knowing how to direct conversation yourself, my apprentice. Being inscrutable is a negotiation tactic, yes, but it''s never as good as always being in control of the situation."


    "A wonderful demonstration, Mursa."


    Mursa Shang cleared his throat. "Well then, your question?"


    "Were the results what you wanted?"


    "Ah, yes. Yes¡­" Mursa Shang looked out of the window of their temporary quarters, seeing the shadow of YiZhi Mountain and Sanctuary. "The Dao survived and the Empire did not obtain their heart''s desire. More importantly, Molam survived. He''s proven his value beyond his connections. And now that the Oracle told us it''s possible¡­ we have use for him yet." He looked back to Jyuni. "When you are Mursa, be vigilant about maintaining a semblance of neutrality while befriending all sides."


    "Then why do you look so pained?"


    "Do I?"


    Jyuni pointed to her left brow. "You have a habit of raising your eyebrow like this when you don''t like the price."


    "I do not." Mursa Shang relaxed his face, immediately self-conscious. His eyes darted up towards the left as though he could somehow see his own brow without a mirror. "...do I?"


    "It is slight," Jyuni responded, "Only I would have noticed since we spend so much time together. Which is why I am asking because I do not understand ¡ª you seem unhappy even if you got what you wanted?"


    "I could tell you," Mursa Shang kept his face impassive. "But then you''d accuse your Mursa of being talkative."


    "If you can''t make it quick, then never mind." His apprentice looked back down to her work. "I have numbers to balance for our upcoming trip to Oasis."


    Mursa Shang sighed. Jyuni could be so difficult to tease.


    "Jyuni." The tone he used made her look up, wariness in her eyes. "Unfortunately, this lecture will need to happen if you do not yet understand. The Dao''s leadership ¡ª mostly Molam and Primrose ¡ª is sharp. Not just as a buyer, but as a seller."


    "You think he''s going to gouge us in price?"


    "Maybe." The Mursa leaned back in his chair. "The lesson we are revisiting here is one of timing. Quick ¡ª what was the cheapest moment to buy the Dao''s alliance?"The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    "At the moment you made a deal with them, when they needed an ally."


    "Very good. And while I committed to a stance of neutrality, I did nothing that would bind us to them. Do you know why?"


    "Because you always verify the value of what you buy."


    "Precisely, my dear apprentice. The Tempest in JiangXi was one thing, but this time¡­ the OutCast was certainly determined, given the destruction we saw in her quest to kill him." Mursa Shang tapped his armrest, deep in thought, "And yet Molam lived. Him, and those that follow him. That means it''s not a fluke. Well, him being chosen to carry the Oracle''s color was already a good indicator of his value, but now it''s more¡­" The tapping stopped, "...tangible."


    "Isn''t that what you were hoping for, if you were going to align us with the Dao?"


    "And therein lies the problem. I wasn''t willing to gamble on something so unverified, and that opportunity is now gone. Molam is no fool either; he knows that we know, and anything we try with him will have a greater price attached to it. I also didn''t stay to help him against the Empire''s four Titled Ones."


    "Perhaps you should have, to win his trust?"


    "Against the Tempest, Islander, HushFang, and the OutCast?" asked Mursa Shang in amusement. "Let''s not speak about the bit where I would have explicitly gone against the treaty with the Empire and implicated the rest of our people. You must not place a lot of value in your master''s life if you think I should participate in that fight."


    Jyuni blinked at him, then grinned slyly. "Should I answer that?"


    "Don''t you dare."


    "Then my final question instead. Why are you so certain Molam will make it expensive for us? My experience with him is that he''s¡­ fair."


    "Don''t think that, Jyuni. You have him all wrong." Mursa Shang spoke more urgently than he intended to. Jyuni had sat up straight at the seriousness in his voice, a look of surprise on her face. "You have yet to spar with him with just a contract or chessboard between the two of you. He will exploit any mistake and by the time you''re scrambling to undo your last mistake he''ll make you reveal two more. Unfortunately, we need to speak with him."


    After a moment, he then shrugged, "And if Molam doesn''t make it expensive for us to form a true alliance, then he isn''t who we want to align ourselves with in the first place. Do you understand, Jyuni? If this happens, it must be expensive ¡ª or not at all."


    "I understand your reasoning, Mursa, but¡­" Jyuni looked at the map of the world behind her Mursa. A circle had been drawn around Mur, pulsing with the golden glow of her Mursa''s aura. "I still see no reason why he will succeed where all others have failed."


    "Ah, I''ve forgotten to tell you." Mursa Shang tapped the sapphire ring on his left hand. "The Oracle told me that we''ll only clear DuskWing''s Curse out of Mur with the help of a greater spirit. And I believe Molam can use spirits."


    <hr>


    Near the ruins of Techoria


    Rei entered the tent to a curious sight. Roxxa sat in a chair opposite Ruskru as he inspected the Northerner''s wounds, glowering. Desmi hung upside-down behind them, Ruskru¡¯s red sash holding his ankle in midair.


    Ruskru''s brown eyes looked at Rei. "Where is Kymja?"


    "She chose to limp," Rei shrugged. "You know how she hates flying." She indicated at Desmi''s punishment. "Are we finally trussing up the womanizer?"


    The upside-down Islander waved cheerfully at her.


    "Not quite. Ruskru is coming to terms with the idea that Desmi is not at fault in that swordsman''s death." Roxxa seemed indifferent to Ruskru poking at the gaping wound in her shoulder. Rei had no idea how Roxxa maintained her look of passive disinterest; she could see the muscle and sinew pulse with each beat of Roxxa''s heart. "You can let Desmi down now. It''s entirely my fault. He didn''t know about the Prince''s hopes for recruiting Martyker."


    "Stop moving, Roxxa." The Eclipse''s face darkened further, his eyes still focused as he pulled another gleaming sliver of metal from Roxxa''s wound, depositing it onto a nearby tray. "I never said you weren''t to blame, Roxxa. You say that Desmi thought the swordsman was an enemy and that''s why he went for the heart; but you took away his other arm first? Whyever would you do that?"


    "I thought that he would seek us out to restore his arms," Roxxa responded. "Given that he could take the Prince''s offer. I didn''t think Desmi would take that as an indication the man was an enemy."


    "Hard to think otherwise when you sever someone''s arm, Roxxa." Rei leaned back to watch Ruskru work, wincing at the soreness in her body. She was too tired to float. "Tense moment like that, even I would have done the same."


    "Is it possible he didn''t die?" Ruskru directed the question at Desmi.


    Desmi shook his head. "I, ah, went straight for the heart."


    Ruskru sighed and the sash loosened from Desmi''s ankle. He caught himself by bracing his palms against the floor, regaining his balance with two paces towards Rei. Flipping himself back up, he smiled and winked as though mere acrobatics could impress her.


    "The swordsman''s death is the smallest of our issues," Ruskru glared at Roxxa as he continued cleaning the wound. "You were sent to retrieve the Prodigy, not kill the Oracle''s vessel or be involved in so many deaths and destruction at ZhiXia City." He paused. "You weren''t selected to lead so you could allow your judgment to be clouded, Roxxa."


    "My judgment hasn''t changed," Roxxa''s face was deadpan, and Rei could respect how the Northerner did not even flinch. Ruskru had healed her once before; he could not heal as painlessly as those few who specialized in it. "It doesn''t matter that the Oracle seems to have chosen someone weak as a vessel. His existence represents that the Oracle is ready to move again, and that will only bring about more death. More destruction." Her voice became flat. "We''ve missed two chances to kill him now."


    "Not ¡®we.¡¯ We did not set out to kill the Oracle''s vessel. You failed. And now you''ve used up your token from the Prince."


    "I was trapped."


    "Desmi and Rei returned for you."


    "The opportunity was there," Roxxa''s tone became defiant, her bandaged fist pounding into her armrest. The chair''s leg crumpled, leaving her balancing on a three-legged chair. "There were no other Titled Ones ¡ª I still stand by the decision surrounding the circumstances."


    Ruskru gave Roxxa a light stare. The Northerner didn''t quite meet his gaze. "I told you earlier," said Ruskru, "to not move." A pause, then he pulled out another sliver of metal. "This wound is already complicated enough to clean, what with the amount of splinters that sword left in the muscle."


    "I apologize," Roxxa grumbled, leaning back in her chair. It creaked, tilting backwards. "Will I regain full use of my arm?"


    "Eventually. This will take me multiple sittings. You are lucky he didn''t kill you ¡ª that blade almost reached your heart." Ruskru began pinching together the skin around her wound. The dried blood, having long coagulated during their half day of escape, sank under the skin as the wound itself knitted together under his touch. "All I can do right now is clean and close the wound so it doesn''t fester, but everything beneath the skin will need time."


    Satisfied with his handiwork, he pointed at the white scar. "You''re going to stay with me over the next few weeks so I can reknit the muscle as best I can while making sure your hands heal correctly. And there is nothing I can do to stop it from scarring. But perhaps you were looking forward to a tattoo?"


    "Tattoos are for victories," Roxxa responded woodenly. "This will be a good reminder of my failure."


    "Which brings me to our main topic," Ruskru closed his eyes and sighed, leaning back into his chair. "You returned without the Prodigy."


    "There were¡­ complications," Rei spoke up. "We didn''t expect another Titled One to show up. The one leading the UnSeen. If he hadn''t broken our formation ¡ª" She fell silent when Ruskru opened one eye and looked at her.


    "We don''t move more than two of us at a time without good reason," Ruskru spoke softly. "That I sent four of you should have been a good enough indicator of the importance of securing the Prodigy. Did you forget? We need the SunFlower. And yet, you all came back empty-handed."


    His tone stayed unchanged, but Rei''s senses tingled.


    "No," Ruskru corrected himself thoughtfully. "More than empty-handed; you''ve broken the unspoken agreement between the Empire and Sanctuary. One of you went off by herself to attack the Oracle''s vessel, and failed to kill him anyway. Two of you accidentally killed the swordsman our Prince intended to recruit. Three of you had the Prodigy within your grasp and couldn''t return with her. Roxxa even used up her token from the Prince." He leaned forward in his chair. "Four of you went; and four of you failed."


    "Our tokens are our own. When we use them is for us to decide." Roxxa did not back down. "Shouldn''t you be focused on our next course of action rather than the mistakes?"


    "I am emphasizing your ''mistakes'' because none of you seem to understand the weight of consequences. This has become worse than JiangXi, where we had a convenient excuse for the Empire to leave. All of Sanctuary and ZhiXia City knows you four were there ¡ª you''ve made a big enough mess that it can''t be unmade and your mistake¡­" Ruskru looked around at them, his tone deadly, "is the Empire''s mistake, do you understand?" He paused. "What would our Prince say?"


    The air within the tent had gone stiff. Rei avoided the Eclipse''s gaze, the pressure emanating from him overshadowing her immediate thoughts. Desmi hummed from the back of the tent, helping himself to the food on the tables.


    "Relax, Ruskru." The voice sailed in from outside the tent, then Kymja limped through the taut woven fabric. Rei noticed the ginger way Kymja treated her left leg and the shallow gashes all over her arms, courtesy of their fight with the Whale. "The Prince would say he''s glad we came back in one piece." She looked towards Roxxa, then amended herself as she slumped into a nearby cushion, "Or at least, we''ll be in one piece, once you heal us. We escaped the Whale of ZhiXia; is that not something?"


    "Empty. Handed." Ruskru emphasized the words. "Four of you were sent to retrieve the Prodigy so we could have the SunFlower''s design. While some of you certainly managed to make a big mess of things, we still don''t have the Prodigy or the SunFlower."


    "Aha, but that''s not quite true." Kymja held out her open hand. "I believe I obtained the next best thing."


    Everyone''s gaze focused on the ring glinting in the middle of her palm.


    "I took it off the Prodigy," Kymja added, then tossed it towards Ruskru. "The aura is the same as Flangel''s Staff."


    Ruskru inspected the ring, then his sash brought a hooked staff to him. Flangel''s Staff. Touching the staff to the ring brought forth a harmonious ring echoing through the tent.


    "It''s real," Ruskru frowned, "But¡­ sealed. Only the designated person or someone who can navigate the seal can open it."


    All of them looked around at each other. None of them had studied seals to any depth, an alchemic specialty. A seal put in place by a Master Alchemist could only be navigated by one of a similar caliber.


    "The Prince?" Rei suggested. "We already have the ring and confirmed it''s the real one. We don''t need to open it ourselves; the Prince is a Master Alchemist."


    "We could," Ruskru seemed unsure, "But having the ring is one thing. We do not know if the SunFlower''s design is inside. Imagine our shame if the Prince awoke and we presented a ring that did not contain what he wanted?"


    "We could bring it to Zaem," Desmi offered. "They have four Master Alchemists. One of them should be able to study Flangel''s seal."


    "No," Ruskru stowed away the staff, still looking at the ring. "I don''t trust the alchemists of Zaem with Flangel''s ring at all. We''ll need to discover who Flangel meant to have this ring, or find a Master Alchemist with no relation to Zaem."


    "This sounds like a dead end," Roxxa grumbled. "Only Techoria and Zaem produce Master Alchemists. The Prodigy is the last of Techoria''s Master Alchemists and she may know who the ring was meant for, but she will be guarded even further now that we failed to retrieve her. And since the rest of Techoria''s alchemists are dead, Zaem is our only option left."


    "If we''re looking for an alchemist not affiliated with Zaem," Rei spoke up. "I think¡­ there might be one more."


    Kymja seemed surprised, and Roxxa frowned. Desmi continued to eat as he flitted around the back of the tent, unbothered by their conversation.


    "You know of one?" Ruskru asked.


    "It''s not confirmed, but¡­ the Dao at JiangXi seemed to have an alchemist." Rei covered the lower half of her face with her fan, suddenly aware of their gazes. "He wasn''t my focus when I encountered the Dao, but it seemed he was quite capable as an alchemist. A Northerner."


    Roxxa looked up with a frown. "My people eschew studying alchemy."


    "Hmmm," Ruskru stroked his chin. "It''s possible. Zaem does not permit their alchemists to leave their City. Rei ¡ª you''re the one that brought it up. Do you recall seeing this alchemist in Sanctuary?"


    "No. I remember a distinct horizontal scar on his face," Rei shrugged. "He wasn''t part of the group we encountered, but he wasn''t a battle alchemist either. It''s possible he was elsewhere in the Festival."


    After a moment, Ruskru raised a finger towards Roxxa. "Tell me¡­ more about the Oracle''s vessel." His brown eyes seemed unfocused as he pondered. "You said he wasn''t combat-worthy, but he was the one giving orders. Were they effective and efficient?"


    "Yes. It was the entire reason why I failed to kill him," Roxxa answered with a frown. Rei saw Desmi look towards Kymja, who shrugged. She shared their confusion. Why was Ruskru asking about the Oracle''s vessel all of a sudden? Were they not focused on the Northerner alchemist?


    Ruskru muttered under his breath, deep in thought. "Hmm¡­ the leader¡­ and the alchemist¡­ but there''s two? ¡­ no¡­ it makes no sense to bring both¡­ and JiangXi would need one¡­" After several breaths, Ruskru''s eyes came to focus as he looked up again. "The alchemist ¡ª if he''s a Master Alchemist ¡ª may still be in JiangXi."


    Roxxa leaned forward. "You are certain?"


    "No, but it''s a likely possibility," Ruskru explained, a sharp glimmer in his eyes. "Given what Roxxa and Rei have experienced, the Oracle''s vessel isn''t a fool. He negotiated for Rei to leave JiangXi at Oasis''s expense, but then left JiangXi as well? Someone had to supervise. My guess is he had the Prodigy with him and saw no need for another Master Alchemist. Either the alchemist is the one currently overseeing JiangXi, or they''re helping whoever that burden falls to." He frowned. "At least, I''m reasonably certain about this guesswork. Do any of you disagree?"


    None of them spoke up. Rei hid her smile behind her fan. The silence was everyone''s tacit approval. Ruskru was doing his best to lead them the way the Prince would.


    "I''ll give it some time to consider it fully, just to ensure we don''t have a repeat of ZhiXia," Ruskru put away the ring, returning the staff to its place on the wall. "We''ll consider what to do with the ring later on. A good thing Kymja had the foresight to search the Prodigy, or this endeavor would have been an even bigger waste of time and resources."


    "Excellent. Celebration, then?" Desmi looked up from a heaping plate. "It was a hard-fought battle."


    "I envy your placid demeanor," Ruskru said dryly. "But being the least injured means you have things to do. The Northern Tribes are on the move and those ungrateful Twins are calling a moot, so you''ll have to join Shoss." Desmi paused mid-bite, puffed out his cheeks at Ruskru, then returned his attention to what was on his plate. Ruskru ignored the silent complaint, then added in a mild tone at greater volume, "Ah, I forgot to ask. How was the experience meeting Ji?"


    Roxxa let out a long sigh. "I didn''t get to participate after he left ZhiXia and was free to unleash his full strength, so you''ll have to ask these three."


    Ruskru turned to the rest. "Well? How was it to meet the Whale of ZhiXia?"


    Rei bit her lip. Kymja looked away, and even Desmi shifted side to side, clearly uncomfortable. Through an unspoken agreement, they hadn''t talked about the shared experience amongst themselves while it was still fresh in their minds. Perhaps they were still trying to understand what they had just fought. Or maybe it was just the lingering dread. Rei had always felt that she wasn''t much shorter than the others, but all of them felt equally small and insignificant in front of the giant waves summoned by the Whale of ZhiXia, tall enough to threaten even Rei in the air.


    On land.


    "If he wasn''t cautious about injuring the Prodigy, I think I''d have lost an arm or even drowned," Kymja eventually said dryly. "I now truly understand why you rushed over when Shoss and Jett killed his disciples in Teljumaya." A pause. Then, "I expect the maps will need updating."

 Ch 56: An End to Festivities

    There is no good or evil.


    Only consequences.


    ¡ª Excerpt from Meditations, by the Red Emperor


    <hr>


    ZhiXia City


    A respected Scholar said the first day of the Festival of the Hero was meant to face the past. It was a time to accept and reflect on the challenges the year had brought; more importantly, it was a time to empathize with others who had faced their own challenges, to trade understanding and support and, ultimately, to accept that the time had been just another year in one¡¯s life. Perhaps that was why it had become the day people gathered to listen to the story of the Companions and remind themselves of their shared history, so that they could bid goodbye to the previous year as one.


    The second day of the Festival was meant to face the present. An acknowledgment that just because the year was over did not mean the consequences did not carry through. Some things could not be forgotten; other things could not be forgiven. But wallowing in an unchanging past does nothing to change it, and we should only ever live in the present with an eye towards the future. For many, the second day marked a time to come to terms with the journey that had led them thus far. No matter what had transpired, a new year was just around the corner ¡ª and with it, a chance for a fresh start.


    The third day of the Festival, then, was meant to face the future ¡ª or at least, the year ahead. A reminder that tomorrow was always just a Sunrise away, and that to eternally gaze back at the past was no way to walk forward. Traditionally, this would be a time both of reflection and of planning for the year ahead. Much like how the Sun served as a daily reminder for the efforts of the Companions, so too should those of the present strive to prepare for the coming future.


    But Molam shared ZhiXia City''s lamenting grief as he walked through the City''s ruined streets. His muscles clenched over the warm loaves of bread and hot soy milk in his arms. The empty, hollow looks on peoples¡¯ faces mirrored his own as they rummaged through the scenes of destruction, looking for what they could salvage.


    Perhaps most painful for Molam to see was those who had been unwilling to accept the bodies. Those in denial could be found all along the streets, digging with a focused frenzy through the rubble. Here and there, several others had come to find the searchers-in-denial. Some of these encounters had turned ugly.


    Nearby, a mother tried to drag away her husband as he shifted away more rocks, his hands bloodied from a night of vain toil. She screamed in a shrill voice at him to come to reason, but found no response but grim determination. When she tried to pull him away, he shoved her to the ground, asking her why she had given up on their daughter so callously. Molam shuddered at the wild look in his eyes, distorted with an inhuman desperation.


    A boy that must have been their son ran up, crying for the mother to stop, and the mother pressed the child''s head to her shoulder, taking care to avoid his father''s blood. She rocked back and forth on her knees as her husband continued removing the rubble, closing her eyes when he cursed at them for not lifting a finger to help search for their missing family member.


    But the daughter was not here. Master Ji''s search had been very thorough. The mother continued to plead, her voice hoarse in her raw throat; why was her husband here instead of with their daughter''s body? She was interrupted by a sudden gasp as the father found something in the remnants of their destroyed house ¡ª when he held it up, Molam saw a broken bolang gu, a toy for children.


    One of the strings had been torn off, the drum punctured through. The father''s wail told Molam it had belonged to their daughter.


    Molam hurried towards Sanctuary. He could avert his eyes, but he could not close his ears. The wail of grief echoed throughout his thoughts.


    The scenery inside Sanctuary was no better. Rows upon rows of bodies draped in white, illuminated by the yellow-orange glow of torches. The shadows seemed to have more life than their owners, sitting glumly next to the bodies as they paid Molam little heed when he swept by.


    Neither could Molam look any of them in the eyes. He worried that if he did, he could no longer keep down that clammy feeling threatening to make him double over and vomit up the rising sensation of guilt weighing down his chest.


    All of this is my fault.


    <hr>


    Sanctuary


    Molam found the small room in the back of Sanctuary where Martyker''s nameplate lay. The body had already been taken away by the Priestesses to be prepared for cremation. He flinched upon entering, surprised to see it occupied by a large shadow.


    "I''m sorry, I''ll ¡ª"


    The Whale of ZhiXia held up a finger, silencing Molam with a single look. Then he pointed down to his lap, where Nettie lay fast asleep. The solitary candle in the room illuminated little, but Molam could still see the dried tear tracks down her brown cheeks.


    Molam lowered his voice, closing the door behind him. "I wasn''t expecting you, Master Ji."


    "How is your shoulder?"


    "A Priestess mended it as best she could, but I''ll be sore for some time." He shuffled to a nearby table, laying out the food. "Have you eaten yet, Master Ji?"


    "You gave Primrose a task and left her to do it alone." Master Ji spoke in an even tone, but Molam heard the accusation within.


    "Only trusted people know about this room, and no doubt Primrose told Nettie to not leave." Molam set the food down on the table, laying things out so Nettie could eat later.


    "You went to look at the aftermath." Another statement from Ji.


    "Of course I did," Molam nodded. "I¡­ owe it to the dead."


    "Why burden yourself with regret?"


    "Not regret." Molam busied himself, pouring out some of the soy milk. "An acknowledgment of responsibility. If I hadn''t been desperate to trick the OutCast into summoning an echo..."


    "You lived." The man''s voice contained no hint of bitterness, only weariness. "Focusing on the rest only dishonors those who died to make it happen."


    Molam sipped at the soy milk, hoping his stomach would not complain. "I don''t mean to dishonor them. I did not know Martyker for long, but I came to like your disciple in the short time I knew him. I am¡­ sorry he died because of me."


    "No." Master Ji''s gaze did not move from Martyker''s nameplate. The greatsword leaned nearby, gleaming dully in the candlelight. Though sheathed, it still showed bits of dried blood ¡ª the OutCast¡¯s blood ¡ª on the hilt. There had been little respite since the battle and Molam had not found a chance to clean it. "I am reiterating my disciple''s last wish; dismiss any notions of it being ''your fault.''"


    But the guilt remained. Even if Molam could ignore Martyker''s death, everything he had seen since yesterday remained with him. The crumbling buildings where people lived and made their living. The destroyed streets and the wild-eyed residents still digging through them. How could Master Ji not understand how he felt when Martyker was dead?


    Then Molam remembered ¡ª the Whale of ZhiXia once had two disciples a mere twenty Sorrows ago. The two young auramasters had tried to kill the Empire''s Prince when he fell into slumber at Teljumaya, only to encounter the Empire''s Titled Ones guarding their Prince. The records only indicated Master Ji''s late arrival and the subsequent destruction of Teljumaya, but then¡­


    "Then, my condolences," Molam offered. Time to try the empathetic approach Kalle always encouraged. "I can only imagine your pain at having lost another disciple to the Empire."


    "Condolences," The Whale of ZhiXia echoed in a guttural voice. The candlelight flickered at his tone. "Is that all you have, Molam?"


    The question threw Molam off. Was that the wrong thing to say? "I don''t understand."


    "Words are just sentiments, Molam. Particularly words of etiquette." Master Ji did not turn to look at him. "You already believe that manners are mere¡­ niceties, for making human interaction more pleasant. I have been observing you too. You and I are the same; we believe that for people with ability, words are always insincere unless they are backed by action."


    Molam held back the urge to give a pithy response. "Don''t play subtle with me, Master Ji. It''s not your style." Molam lowered his voice to a slight murmur, "If you want me to do something, you can tell me outright without resorting to roundabout hints."


    A moment later, Master Ji shifted his head, finally looking at Molam. "It was my fault for not realizing that Roxxa would have received a token of the Prince''s power, allowing her to break free from her restraints. And yet, you survived ¡ª with most of your group."


    Molam felt the tension dissipate. He had not expected the man to give a sudden admission of fault. "Things were hectic, and we were focused on getting back Nettie."


    "True, but you did well with what you had." Master Ji settled Nettie onto a bundle of blankets on the floor next to him and unfolded his legs, standing up to his towering height. "I will be direct. What do you want to do? Why did you come back down?" He leaned down, laying a heavy hand on Molam''s shoulder. His dark eyes found Molam''s gaze. "You aren''t incapable despite your disadvantage, and that means you need to stop holding yourself back. I''m asking you to make a choice, Molam. The Empire has obtained the Ring of Flangel the Wise, and that means the SunFlower''s design is within their reach. You might believe none of this will affect you if you return beyond where mortals are allowed to walk, but the Empire wants the SunFlower because it will help them open the Stairs."


    "Pointing out that I''m affected whether I like it or not isn''t exactly me making a choice, Master Ji."


    "Your choice, then," Master Ji emphasized, "is to choose whether you care now¡­ or be forced to care later." The hand on Molam¡¯s shoulder squeezed, eliciting complaints from the healing limb. "Remember. No matter what ¡ª always be taking action."


    The door opened silently, only evidenced by the extra light emanating from outside. "Master Ji," Primrose''s voice seemed smooth as she put away a gleaming blade. "I wasn''t expecting you."This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    "Leave the door open," Master Ji responded, "I only stayed to look after Nettie while you were gone."


    "Of course," Primrose bowed her head slightly, holding the door open for him. "Thank you for watching over Nettie." She stood to the side as the Whale ducked through the door. It closed behind him.


    "Is everything all right?" Primrose asked, watching as Molam rearranged the blankets around Nettie. Somehow, she had found the time to change into an elegant black outfit. "Master Ji''s aura seemed particularly¡­ despondent."


    Molam checked Nettie''s condition, noting the quick shift¡ªand the attempt to hide it¡ªin the girl''s eyes. "Everything''s fine. Moreover," he looked at Primrose. "Did you do what I asked?"


    "Ahh, yes. Here''s what I have for now but¡­" Primrose handed him a small slip of paper. Molam unfolded it to see lines of names written in neat calligraphy. "It''s incomplete, as it''s only been half a day. The rest are still unidentified."


    "There''s food on that table if you want some." Molam muttered, reading each name on the list. "Please give me the rest when you have it."


    "Same habit from JiangXi, I see." Primrose knelt down to look over Nettie herself. A gentle hand brushed the girl''s forelocks to the side. "Madam Scarlette wants me to relay her warning to not indulge yourself in what you cannot change."


    "She should speak with Master Ji. They seem to share a deep interest in the topic of what I do." Molam paused. He recognized one of the names. No surname, but the occupation "confectioner" was written next to it.


    "No doubt she''d enjoy said conversation, but I also find myself wondering¡­" Primrose found the bread, then a blade flashed and disappeared into her sleeve. She turned to Molam, pinching off a piece of the freshly cut slice. "What are we doing, Molam? You took leadership of the Dao. You succeeded. Then you disappeared, without a word to Shurra or me. Do I take over when you''re gone? If you don''t explain your thoughts to me, we can''t be effective as a group."


    Molam did not answer, still trying to understand the surge of feelings at seeing Jiovanny''s name on the list. Something felt lodged in his throat. Had he not swallowed his food correctly?


    "Well, Molam?" Primrose prodded. "The next move?"


    Molam looked up at her voice, not fully seeing Primrose''s face. He had never had a chance to see Jiovanny since he returned. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he forced himself to answer as normally as possible. "The Dao means the Way, and the point of the group''s existence is to prove to the Free Cities and the others that there is another path, one that doesn''t involve cowering in fear of the Empire."


    He looked down to the list again, trying to continue reading, but his eyes kept going back to Jiovanny''s name. "If¡­ if the situation ever calls for it, remember that as the guiding point for all decisions. And I trust your judgment in my absence, as the original leader of the Dao." Molam forced himself to look at Primrose again. "You, Shurra, and Kalle all have your expertise and good judgment. I am only able to ensure our efforts are maximally effective."


    Primrose pressed her fingers together. Molam kept his face impassive. She knows something is wrong. He could see it in the way she raised her eyebrows at him, but he didn''t know what to say. Someone he didn''t bother spending time with was dead? Whyever would Primrose care about that?


    "That''s quite the confidence in us," she replied finally, as though disappointed he wasn''t saying anything. "But I still don''t know what you want us to do next."


    "We''ve taken a city, and we''ve driven four of their Titled Ones back. But now the Empire has the Ring, and we need to understand what that means." Molam pinched the bridge of his nose, wondering if that would help stem the tears that threatened to come out. "It''s like a game of dragon chess. You either move towards victory or prevent the enemy from achieving theirs."


    Ah, Molam realized as the words came out. Master Ji was right.


    "I asked for your thoughts, then you go on and tell me your philosophy," Primrose sighed. She paused, as though waiting for Molam to say something, but he did not oblige. Eventually, she then added, "And? Which of those are we doing?"


    "First thing first, we confirm what the Empire can do with what they took." Molam knelt down next to Nettie, grateful Primrose didn''t pursue his distress. "The worst thing that can happen is we become blindsided by an opponent''s victory. Nettie?" He brushed a gentle knuckle alongside the girl''s forehead. "Nettie, you''ve been awake since Master Ji left."


    When the girl did not respond, Molam sighed. "There''s bread and soy milk if you''re hungry."


    The girl cracked open an eye in an admission of defeat. "Nettie is tired."


    "That''s because you haven''t eaten or drank anything since yesterday morning." Primrose knelt down, holding a fresh slice of bread and a cup of soy milk.


    The smell of food, tantalizingly close, coaxed the girl to push herself up from the blankets with a lazy rubbing of her eyes. When she held out her hands, Primrose tutted at the dirt on the girl''s hands and wrapped the food up before handing it to her.


    "Don''t let your hands touch the food," Primrose warned her.


    "Thank you," Nettie managed through a large bite of bread.


    Molam pushed the cup of soy milk at her. "Chew thoroughly, no one''s going to steal your food."


    Nettie nodded, her bright eyes wider now as she ate. Molam waited for her to finish half of her food before he sat down across from her with crossed legs. "Nettie. I''m sorry, but we need to know some things about Master Flangel''s Ring. Can I ask you a few questions?"


    The girl nodded, her mouth still full. Primrose wiped a crumb of bread off from Nettie''s cheek.


    "Thank you. I only remember you saying it was gone yesterday, and you know that it was the HushFang who took it. You said that it contains the SunFlower''s design. Does having it mean they can now build a SunFlower?"


    Nettie shook her head, chewing slowly. "They can''t open the Ring."


    "Why not?"


    "Sealed. GrandFather only wanted¡­" the girl paused, then continued."Someone specific to have the Ring. Nettie was supposed to destroy it if Nettie couldn''t give it to that someone, but¡­" she looked down. "It was GrandFather''s Ring."


    Molam shared a look with Primrose, who nodded. Nettie was hiding the person''s name. "How is the Ring unsealed?"


    Nettie resumed eating. "The person who is supposed to receive it. Or a Master Alchemist."


    This alarmed Molam, though he took care to not show it. "So, any Master Alchemist can open it?"


    "No. A Master Alchemist who understands GrandFather''s design." Nettie bit her lip, then looked down. "Only from Techoria."


    "I''m sorry, I didn''t mean to bring up that memory." Molam reached forward, hesitatingly brushing away the girl''s tears. "Thank you. Eat your fill now. Primrose, we''ll let her eat in peace for a bit."


    He stood up, gesturing at Primrose to follow him outside. After checking the hallway for anyone within earshot, Molam waited for Primrose to close the door before beckoning to her ear.


    "We need to move Kalle," Molam started grimly. "Away from JiangXi. Perhaps here, with us. He''s not safe alone."


    Primrose seemed surprised. "What? Why? If we move Kalle, who''s going to oversee JiangXi? How are we going to keep it?"


    "JiangXi isn''t something we can hold." Lowering his voice, Molam gestured subtly towards the room they had just left. "There are only two alchemists from Techoria left: Nettie and Kalle." He met Primrose''s gaze firmly, expecting her to understand. "The Empire wants the SunFlower''s design, and they can only get that if they open the Ring. We can only hope they believe that the rest of Techoria''s Master Alchemists died with Techoria, but the Tempest has seen Kalle." When Primrose''s eyes showed understanding, Molam pressed his point further. "We don''t know if Kalle can open the Ring, but we can''t risk them capturing Kalle either. Our only hope is that the Empire hasn''t realized this yet and act before they do to ensure Kalle doesn''t fall into their hands."


    Master Ji''s words echoed again: Always be taking action.


    <hr>


    The Great Bonfire


    Priestess Komura and Priestess Shantayla found the Great Bonfire to be acting exactly as the messenger described; the flames had turned a deep, burnt-crimson, a far departure from the bright yellow and orange colors from the past two days. Other Priestess pairs had arrived as well, shepherding the residents away in case the situation turned for the worse.


    "Can you sense anything?" Priestess Komura asked her mentee.


    "There''s¡­ something," Priestess Shantayla shook her head. The two of them had tied their hair up into tight buns, but Priestess Komura saw a few strands had escaped. They had worked throughout the night to help the wounded and care for distressed residents, and the toll was beginning to show. "I don''t know what it is. It''s aura, if I had to state what I''m sensing, but it feels different and..." she paused, then added, "Burnt."


    Raising an eyebrow, Priestess Komura asked, "Are you sure that''s not the bonfire you''re smelling?"


    Priestess Kanteru walked up, the weathered lines on her brown face looking deeper in the bonfire''s light. "Should we worry? It''s technically well-within Sanctuary''s borders, so I can''t imagine the Leviathan ignoring it if it''s dangerous¡­ but maybe the Empire never left. The WildFire?"


    "Wait," Priestess Komura said as she felt Priestess Shantayla tugging on her robe. She followed her mentee''s pointing finger, then spoke in a more urgent tone. "Something''s happening with the bonfire."


    The flames flickered, taking on a changing hue, alternating between various shades of red, orange, and yellow. Each change grew brighter in color, until it became blinding to look at directly, forcing each of them to close their eyes. Komura attempted to shield her eyes with her hands and arms but found herself turning away on instinct; such was the intensity of the light. And just when the bonfire''s light became too bright, it disappeared, leaving them all blinking away the dark spots in their vision.


    "What¡­ was that?" Priestess Kanteru asked uneasily, looking around at the extinguished bonfire. "Was that an attack?"


    Komura gave Priestess Shantayla a questioning look ¡ª the young woman shook her head, though she seemed bewildered as well. Komura replied to Priestess Kanteru, "No. At least, Priestess Shantayla doesn''t think so."


    The elder Priestess gave Priestess Shantayla an appraising look, then nodded. "Should we relight the bonfire? It was keeping the people warm and provided light. It would be best if ¡ª"


    "No," Priestess Komura interrupted, looking up at the night sky. "The Festival is over."


    <hr>


    Sanctuary


    Molam jerked with surprise when the feather wrapped around his wrist brimmed with heat. The voice echoing in his head relaxed him.


    You are injured. Who did this to you?


    Molam''s navel itched with warmth. He tensed on reflex, then relaxed as the remnants of pain melted away. The warmth traveled to his shoulder and leg, even to his lower hips that had been stiff the past day. The healing process felt different compared to before; faster, and the itching was less pronounced.


    "It''s you, Fiery One." Sighing with relief, Molam added, "Thank you. The pain was beginning to bother me."


    A burst of flame erupted near his head and the phoenix materialized to perch on his shoulder. What happened? The spirit''s voice seemed to have taken on an immeasurable depth. How did you become so injured, during the Festival of all times, in ZhiXia of all places?


    "All good questions, but I don''t want to tell this story twice." He greeted the spirit in measured tones. Molam shifted his steps, shouldering the unexpected weight on his right shoulder.


    He paused. Weight?


    Taking another look at the phoenix, he realized it seemed brighter, bristling with a warm glow that hadn''t existed before. The claws that wrapped around his shoulder dug lightly into his clothes, and he could smell the faint scent of¡­ burnt.


    "Congratulations on your rebirth, Fiery One."


    Why thank you. The phoenix preened itself, then examined Molam closely. You smell of dried blood and earth. Were you wrestling in the mud?


    "You''ll get the story soon," Molam replied, "I was just preparing my thoughts." He turned a corner, looking for the nondescript door. "You can hear about it with the Oracle."


    Remarkable. One of the Great Spirits is sitting on your shoulder in their full glory and you are focused elsewhere. I sometimes wonder why I bother granting you my presence when any other human would be groveling beneath my tail.


    "I could grovel, but then you''d be on the same level as RainBringer," Molam replied mildly. "I stand straight so you can feel¡­ higher. Better than that, even."


    ¡­ I did miss your way with words. And? How was the Festival?


    "Disastrous."


    I can see that, given how distracted you are instead of focusing on the honor of having me ride your shoulder. Your emotions are everywhere like a hatchling about to take flight.


    "Then it''s a good thing this isn''t about flight, considering you''ve seen how fast I fall," Molam reminded the spirit as he reached the door into the Inner Sanctum. He reached for the handle, then paused to take a deep breath. The list of names ¡ª Jiovanny''s included ¡ª sat heavily in his pocket. Molam tried to cast aside the guilt again, focusing solely on his breathing.


    Are you here to ask a question or return to the Castle?


    Molam shook his head. "There''s more I need to do, and I''m going to need the Oracle''s help in doing them."


    Now that''s a change. If I may give advice: she has just woken up, so speak softly.


    "I didn''t know she sleeps at all," Molam replied, stepping into the Inner Sanctum.


    Once again, darkness greeted him.

 Ch 57: Blood in the Water

    Success rarely comes about in the way you imagined.


    Creating the SunFlower.


    Tutoring the Prince.


    My triumphs are my greatest regrets.


    ¡ª Notes from Flangel the Wise''s journal


    <hr>


    Molam walked into the pitch blackness of the Inner Sanctum, hearing the door close behind him. The phoenix on his shoulder shone brilliantly, but the brightness barely reached the two pillars in front of him.


    He hesitated, seeing the darkness of the Inner Sanctum. A moonless night was black. But while one knew something existed and couldn''t be seen, this darkness evoked the sensation of¡­ nothingness.


    "What is worse," he asked rhetorically, "To be blind, or to be certain your eyes work ¡ª only there is nothing left to see?"


    You take after your mentor''s worst traits, the phoenix grumbled. There is nothing to worry about, it assured him. I personally kept watch over the Seal for three days while she rested.


    "I suspect if the Seal became undone even you would be in a hurry," Molam muttered in response, then continued blindly deeper into the Inner Sanctum. "Is now a bad time, Oracle?" He spoke loudly into the dark gloom as he stepped forward, the remnants of his voice echoing back at him.


    I reminded you earlier to speak softly, the phoenix chided him.


    "Yes," Molam continued walking forward. "But I''m not disturbing someone''s sleep. You told me she''s awake, no?"


    "I am."


    The echoless voice reached him, from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Molam kept his eyes focused on where he knew the dais to be.


    Shall I do it, or will you? The phoenix flapped a wing, sending a bright feather flying forward into the darkness. A hand caught it, then the Oracle''s white glow spread throughout the Inner Sanctum to illuminate the room. Molam shielded his eyes, blinking at the stony ground. The Oracle''s light was brilliant, far brighter than it had been in the past.


    "It seems much has happened during the Festival," she said.


    His eyes now sufficiently adjusted, Molam looked up and saw a stone bowl in front of the Oracle''s kneeling form. Some things just didn''t change.


    "First things first," Molam walked up to the dais. It almost felt¡­ sacrilegious, walking up without first asking for the Oracle''s permission to approach. But certain things were too urgent. "We need to contact JiangXi. I know you must have a way to do it quickly without a physical messenger. Kalle ¡ª the alchemist ¡ª needs to be moved out of danger as soon as possible. Ideally, Master Ji goes to accompany him."


    What exactly has happened? the spirit demanded. It did not seem impressed at Molam''s disrespectful approach. Inform me, Molam. Were you not the one who extolled the importance of sharing precise and accurate information?


    "A lot. Too much, really, while the two of you were otherwise occupied. The Empire, they¡­" Molam exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. It was a gesture he was getting tired of repeating because it only reminded him of a certain Head Scholar, but they had said it helped to think. "The Empire sent four Titled Ones to snatch Nettie ¡ª the current Prodigy ¡ª during the Festival. They almost succeeded. They would have, if we hadn¡¯t had Master Ji to save her. But¡­ They took Master Flangel''s Ring. It certainly contains the SunFlower''s design."


    If they stand to have the SunFlower, shouldn''t that be your first priority? And yet, your first request was to move Kalle because¡­?


    "I''m glad you thought of that, but you should''ve realized I''m already working on it," Molam gritted his teeth, forcing himself to be patient. He couldn''t blame them; it wasn''t their fault they didn''t have all the information yet. "Nettie ¡ª the Prodigy ¡ª confirmed to me that the Ring can''t be opened by just anyone. It''s been sealed to only be opened by whomever it was intended for, or¡­ by a Master Alchemist of Techoria. Aside from Nettie right now, there''s only Kalle. So our first move should be to move Kalle out of harm''s way before the Empire targets him."


    "Getting the alchemist out of JiangXi can be done." The Oracle''s masked face looked up at him, the painted dragon scowling. "This could have been prevented had we been willing to make the hard choice."


    The words needled at him in ways he didn''t think were possible, poking through his forced composure. "You wanted to kill a child!" Molam seethed, hearing his own voice echo back at him. "How could you be so heartless? Do you not understand at all?"


    "But I do. You were barely older than her when your village bargained your life for enough rice for the rest of them to survive. And I was the same age when I began kneeling here." The Oracle''s voice, though monotone, carried a new hint of bitterness. "You and I both understand the pain, and that is why we are the only ones who should have made the decision. We saw our own pain in front of her and wanted to provide another path. And now our selfishness has worsened it all, merely because we were not willing."


    Molam opened his mouth, then bit his lip. Despite the angry retorts rising in his mind, his thoughts had clung onto something the Oracle said. Did the Oracle mean she had taken her position at a young age? But his anger rose again, though the momentary respite had given him a chance to clamp down on it with a forced calmness. "If you mean to say you regret not killing Nettie, I cannot agree with you at all."


    And to think both of you are normally unflappable, the phoenix observed in a stern tone. There is no fault to be assigned here. We are all trying to make the best choices given what we know at the time. The only question is what we do now.


    The Oracle said nothing. Molam glared at her, but then a fiery wing covered his vision.


    Molam, the phoenix''s voice was gentle. What needs to be done now? I assume you already know your next move.


    "Nettie needs to be kept safe, and Kalle needs to be kept out of the Empire''s hands. It''ll be even better if the Empire doesn''t find out Kalle is a Master Alchemist." Molam paced back and forth, trying to think of new angles that could worsen the situation. "They might bring the Ring to the alchemists at Zaem."


    "The Ring can only be opened by the Prodigy or the intended recipient."


    Molam looked up from his pacing, surprised by the Oracle''s knowledge. "How do you know that?"


    "I inspected it myself. Flangel put a unique seal on it."


    A unique seal. Of course. Flangel the Wise would have thought through the possibility of the Ring being stolen or falling into unintended hands. Molam squinted at the Oracle. "I wasn''t aware you understood alchemy."


    "Vareon delighted in his lectures," she responded, then returned to the situation at hand before Molam could ask anything about what it was like to be taught by the Great Sage who had invented alchemy. "But it matters little. The Prince learned alchemy under Flangel''s tutelage and would know Flangel''s seals."


    Molam experimented with rubbing his temples, curious to see if it provided more relief than pinching the bridge of his nose. It did not. So while the Ring could not be opened for the time being, their respite was limited. Now it all depended on when the Prince would wake up.


    "How long until he wakes up?"


    "You are quite curious for someone who is supposed to be removed from the situation," the Oracle observed. "Did you not want me to open the Stairs again?"


    "I ¡ª" Molam hesitated, caught off guard by the Oracle''s pointed question. The straightforwardness seemed so different compared to the conversations of the past few days. He already knew what he wanted, but the Oracle always saw right through him. The slip of paper in his pocket weighed on his mind, the lines of names on it burned into his memories. "My choices had¡­ consequences. I would be a hypocrite if I ignored it."


    The dragon mask leered. "Is that all?"


    Of course she would press for more, thought Molam. "I have a place I need to go, but I can''t get there by myself. And since I recall you always have a use for someone like me..." He glanced at the phoenix, hoping it would recognize his silent request and choose to step in should he need it. "Consider me¡­ offering to take advantage of the Prince''s slumber."


    The offer hung in the air. Please don''t prod for more, Molam begged silently.


    "You want to go to the Black Pyramid, I presume," the Oracle''s eyes glittered from behind her mask. "I would need a compelling reason to justify to RainBringer why I allowed you to go where she sent her daughter."


    Molam steeled himself with a breath, then said, "Before I give you one, I need you to answer my question ¡ª how long will the Prince''s slumber last? This is important."


    The Oracle fell silent, as though deep in thought. "Two Sorrows," she eventually declared. "Maybe longer. He should not have survived Techoria''s self-destruction, but he did. His healing should have been costly."


    "That''s not a long time," Molam murmured, trying to think. Two more Sorrows ¡ª what could they accomplish in two years? He would need to prepare so much.


    Focus, Molam. The justification, the spirit reminded him gently. RainBringer will not be very tolerant of us sending you near the Black Pyramid without a good reason.


    "The justification is that we have only two years to kill the Prince." Molam sat down opposite the Oracle. "Something in which both you and RainBringer have a vested interest."


    The Oracle''s eyes gleamed. "I am listening."


    "I won''t deny I have my own goals in going to the Endless Sands, but there''s a very good reason you should take my side in this even if RainBringer protests. The Frozen Saint failed because she took on the Empire directly, and she was the Mother of Hjornheim with the full support of the Northern Tribes. I am¡­" he smiled wanly, "nowhere near the strength she had. Neither would it be a good idea to wage war against the Red Army."


    You have a plan.


    "Yes. The Empire''s greatest strength is the Prince, and he''s currently unable to defend himself. If we move fast, we stand to kill him before he wakes up."


    "He is defended by two of the Empire''s Titled Ones at all times." The Oracle seemed dubious despite her monotone voice. "One of which is Ruskru."


    Molam nodded. A Title befitting the one who only stood in the Prince''s shadow. "I''ll need to bring them down to a fight we can manage. To that end, I''ll need copious amounts of jade." He leaned forward. "Which brings me to why I need to go to the Endless Sands: the only place that produces jade is Oasis. RainBringer would understand."


    The Oracle''s eyes seemed to ponder his words through the mask. Molam wondered if he should obtain a mask of his own; it gave quite an advantage.


    "You seem resolved," the Oracle observed.


    Molam almost laughed ¡ª he hadn''t expected that response. The hand in his pocket crumpled the list of names, his nails digging painfully into his palm. So many names. Jiovanny, I should have found the time.


    "Walking away from facing my consequences would make me a hypocrite."


    The Oracle pondered him, then gave an almost imperceptible nod. "And how will you obtain the jade? The amount you need will not be cheap."This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    "The richest man in the world would pay dearly for that which cannot be bought."


    "I have no interest in speaking with him," the Oracle responded flatly. "He has no interest in listening."


    Molam hid his disappointment at the Oracle''s refusal. "Will Sanctuary provide the funds then?"


    "Sanctuary''s funds go to our orphanages and charity efforts. Now, we are supporting ZhiXia City''s restoration."


    Holding out his hands, Molam made a gesture of frustration, one bordering on mocking. "I''ll need some help if you expect me to play my part. How will I convince the Lord of Sands to give me jade if I have no money?"


    The phoenix fluttered its wings, looking at the Oracle. There''s the one we''ve been seeking. Perhaps Molam could make an offer there while helping us confirm where that one is?


    She did not respond immediately, fixing her gaze on Molam. "The boy might consider it another task."


    "I''m here, you know," Molam spoke up in a wry tone. "Do feel free to include me in your conversation when you can."


    After a moment, the Oracle said, "The Lord of Sands was given custody of one of the Greater Spirits some centuries ago. I understand that the spirit in question has cut off contact with the other spirits."


    I would like you to look into it, Molam. The phoenix shook its head, as though annoyed. Though I dislike each of them, it is time we reconvene after so many centuries.


    "That''s extremely vague," Molam frowned, trying to think of how this information could be used. "And how is this supposed to help me get jade?"


    "If the Lord of Sands and the spirit are no longer working together, you have a great deal of leverage if you can convince the spirit otherwise."


    That one will answer to "Flowing One," added the phoenix. But don''t tell it I told you.


    "Flowing One," Molam muttered under his breath, committing it to memory. "And¡­ what does it look like?"


    I don''t know what form it''s using right now. The phoenix seemed to shrug, then peered at Molam. But you will know. I will pass you a specific feather.


    "Both of you have mastered the art of only seeming to be helpful," Molam complained. When neither replied, he grumbled, "I suppose this is what I can expect from those with nothing but time. Even with leverage, I will need the means to negotiate with the Lord of Sands ¡ª and that won''t be a matter of price."


    The Oracle met his meaningful gaze. "You have another request."


    "Yes. May I borrow Master Ji?"


    A pause. Then, "Ah."


    Molam raised his eyebrows. The request seemed straightforward, and the Oracle should have almost no reason to refuse. "I can hardly stand in front of the Lord of Sands and strike a bargain if he has the option to bend me to his will. Master Ji would be more than helpful."


    The Oracle seemed deep in thought before she eventually responded. "I have no reservations towards asking Ji to travel with you to Oasis. Sanctuary can easily shelter ZhiXia City should another attack happen. However," she hesitated uncharacteristically, "I suppose he did not tell you about his trial because he thought it would not concern you."


    Molam stared blankly. Then, "... what trial?"


    <hr>


    HuaLang Chamber


    Primrose found Madam Scarlette in her study, leaning over several documents. Four, to be exact. It piqued her curiosity, as the Madam''s duty would be unlikely to include mere administrative paperwork.


    "Still no sign of GloomSire?" Primrose asked.


    Scarlette shook her head. "No. The Whale said that GloomSire may need time to himself, having failed to kill the Tempest yet again." She looked up at Primrose, her veil fluttering. Today''s veil was white; whether in solidarity with Sanctuary or mourning, Primrose could not be sure. "Did you tell Molam what I said?"


    "He said you and Master Ji share similar thoughts," Primrose walked over and leaned against Scarlette''s desk. One of the documents glimmered a faint gold in her Sight; Mursa Shang''s work, no doubt.


    "And?" Scarlette still did not look up. "Is he broken?"


    "No. In fact, he''s already sought out an audience with the Oracle about our next moves. I imagine they''re speaking at this moment about going towards Oasis." Even if Molam hadn''t, Primrose would have vouched for him, if only to give him a chance to recover. He was useful, yes¡­ but more importantly¡­ "I think I understand the Oracle''s choice a bit better," Primrose added, thinking about the list of names Molam had asked for. "He doesn''t avert his gaze from the consequences of his choices. It''s the very reason we occasionally send a Flower to change a City Lord."


    "The City Lords have authority and wealth," Scarlette''s chin lifted, indicating she was looking at Primrose. "Both which have more tangible value. If it weren''t for the Oracle''s own request, you would have long been assigned to one. Perhaps City Lord Gihan, but now we''ve convinced him to visit us often."


    "The City Lords," Primrose did not hide the disgust dripping from her voice, "have become¡­ ah, what''s the word Madam Ixia used to use? Right, indolent. City Lord Gihan would have stayed longer if he wasn''t required to appear for his own City''s Festival. I wager the Empire''s attack on ZhiXia would not be enough to get them to act. They will rationalize it as the Empire focusing its attention on Sanctuary and claim none of it has anything to do with them. ZhiXia City will receive the same treatment Teljumaya did after it was destroyed by the Empire."


    Scarlette pondered her words, then turned back to the document in front of her. "You believe HuaLang Chamber should assign our limited resources to Molam."


    "Yes." Primrose said. "He''s useful in his own way. Efficient ¡ª but not ruthless."


    "I agree with your judgment there, but¡­" Scarlette tapped the document she was reading, imprinting HuaLang Chamber''s symbol ¡ª a red, five-petaled flower ¡ª where a signature would normally be found. Then she looked up, the intensity of her hidden gaze piercing through the veil. "There''s still the matter of his aura."


    "Does it really matter?" Primrose raised an eyebrow. "You were there yesterday. Another auramaster isn''t what we need." But when Scarlette''s response was merely silence, Primrose placed her hands down on the desk. "If we had traded Molam for three more auramasters yesterday, would the result have been as favorable? Would any of us have thought to trick the OutCast into summoning an echo? To have worked together in the way Molam organized for that level of survival? No; you and I are taught to strike first or retreat, but against the OutCast most of our skills are useless. Even injured, she could have killed us all if we had fought her outright. You know that."


    The veiled woman stayed silent, as though deep in thought. Then she seemed to shrug slightly. "I had a hard time believing your experience in JiangXi, but it was different to bear witness myself."


    An indirect agreement, but Primrose could work with that. "So, the matter of resources¡ª"


    "Will stay unchanged," Scarlette replied flatly. "If the other City Lords will stay uninvolved, then we need to get them involved. We plant the seeds of tomorrow where they will flourish, Primrose. I do understand your position, however, so take this consolation instead." She pushed aside some of the other documents, leaving only the Mursa''s letter. "I assume you already know who this is from," Scarlette pushed it towards Primrose. "He wants to influence the Dao''s decision to make a move towards Oasis."


    Primrose immediately understood Scarlette''s intention. Mursa Shang did not know that Molam already wanted to go to Oasis; if they could leverage this correctly, they could reap the rewards. That Scarlette had bothered showing it to Primrose at all meant she was asking for Primrose''s thoughts on the matter.


    "The Mursa turned tail and ran the moment things went awry," she recalled, "And if he wants us to join him in Oasis, it means there must be something important related to the Lost City of Mur." What a shame that the Oracle had sent her away before she could listen in more on what the mursashu faced in their quest to reclaim their homeland, but that could always be gleaned later. Primrose thought about it for a moment longer, then, "But what can Mursa Shang offer?"


    The corners of Scarlette''s lips curved upwards. "Now that''s the question, isn''t it? Find a time to tell Molam when you can; I''m certain he would find it useful."


    Scarlette held up a finger before Primrose could respond, turning her attention towards the door. The next moment, an urgent knock. Primrose made to move towards the door, but Scarlette said, "Come in, Dahl. It''s unlike you to run in the Chamber."


    Dahlia entered, her dark complexion flushed from her physical exertion. Primrose frowned. Dahlia was rarely one to rush herself.


    "Yes, Dahl?" asked Scarlette.


    The woman composed herself, then said simply, "Aster disregarded your message. The Sharks are going to the Whale of ZhiXia right now."


    <hr>


    Martial Arena of ZhiXia City


    "Stand down, Shurra. They''re here for me."


    Shurra looked down at the three that had interrupted her practice with Master Ji. Two men and a woman, each wearing the insignia of a shark on the left breast of their clothes.


    The middle-aged man in the front, with graying streaks in his thick hair, looked up to meet her gaze ¡ª neither a challenge nor submission. Shurra''s instincts told her he was a seasoned fighter; it tempted Shurra to test him. But Master Ji had already spoken, and so she stepped away without breaking eye contact.


    The man''s gaze slid away from her the moment he stepped past her, the other two following in his footsteps without meeting Shurra''s gaze. Shurra noted the look of apprehension on their faces; their body movements spoke of tense fear and, curiously, the readiness of battle.


    The Whale did not fully acknowledge them as they approached him, his back turned to them as he filled empty bowls with food and water for a restless pack of hungry cats and dogs. "Shurra, focus."


    His reminder brought Shurra''s attention back to the matter at hand ¡ª training herself to expand her sense of awareness. The animals swarmed around the Whale, tails wagging excitedly as they descended upon the meal the Whale set out for them. Shurra ignored the trio as she focused, attempting to pick out the cats while not being distracted by the dogs.


    "Did you count?" asked the Whale of ZhiXia.


    "Thirteen cats," Shurra answered.


    "And the dogs?"


    Shurra hesitated, scanning her surroundings at the bent heads and wagging tails. She had been focused on the cats only. "...Sixteen dogs."


    The Whale shook his head. "Thirteen cats that you can see. But," he pointed behind Shurra, who turned to see four cats sitting down, wary of the humans. "You need to achieve full awareness of your surroundings." He gestured at the animals. "And there are eighteen dogs. Do not guess ¡ª sense, and know for certain. "


    "I am trying," Shurra answered tersely, finding the exercise overwhelming. The goal of the training was to broaden her sense of awareness, and she needed to focus without focusing. But Shurra found the task impossible ¡ª she could easily focus on one thing without distraction, but now the Whale was asking her to focus on all the possible distractions. "And the cats are behind me."


    "Stop trying to see with your eyes and sense with your aura," the Whale''s large, gentle hands scooped up several cats and dogs that were trying to climb over the others, redistributing them evenly around the bowls. "A Domain is nothing more than realizing that you can be more than just yourself. You must train your mindset to transcend the shackles of your body, so do not limit yourself to what you can see." A small pup had fallen into a large bowl in its eagerness to get at the food; the Whale fished it out and made a position for it between two larger dogs. "Track everything in the vicinity, but this time I will ask you a different question."


    Shurra''s mind tried to keep up with it all as she resisted the urge to follow individual movements with her eyes. A tabby cat hissed, swiping at a dog that had come too close ¡ª its claws glanced off the Whale''s hand, and the cat found a thick finger pushing its head down toward the bowls, where it decided to be interested in food.


    While Shurra tried to sense her surroundings, she noticed the three bystanders standing nearby. The first man stood patiently behind Master Ji as he ensured each of the hungry strays were fed, waiting in silence with his feet planted apart. The other two followed suit, standing at attention with their hands held together behind their backs. A curious puppy swerved between the woman''s legs, and she nudged it away with the barest hint of a small grin on her face. The younger man kept his eyes facing forward as he tried to surreptitiously shake off a cat enamored with the chains dangling from under his jacket, its claws digging into his pants.


    Only when the animals had finished feeding and began dispersing did the man clear his throat.


    "The Whale of ZhiXia. You may not remember me, but ¡ª"


    "Khalim." The Whale moved a cat that had chosen to sit on his foot, earning him the cat''s ire. He bent over and began cleaning up the bowls, several of which had been upturned. A wave of his hand and the spilled water swirled through the bowls, scraping through leftovers to leave the bowls dry and clean. "I knew your grandparents. Khasim was a good man, and he did not deserve Giselle. The two of them were critical for ensuring ZhiXia''s order and peaceful prosperity after the Frost Saint''s Rebellion."


    The man named Khalim paused, then nodded, "They would be glad to know you remember them." A moment later, he added, "They were afraid this day would come."


    The Whale stood up, collected bowls in hand. He turned, towering above them all, looking down upon them. "I shared that fear."


    Silence. Shurra could respect that Khalim did not take a step back like the other two.


    Eventually, Khalim spoke again. "I am aware we cannot force you, but ¡ª"


    "You won''t need to," the Whale rumbled, setting the bowls into the sack and tossing it to Shurra, who caught it on reflex. She still had no idea what any of this was about. "Do your duty."


    The other man and woman looked at each other, their eyes wary.


    "I appreciate your candid compliance. Very well then," Khalim gestured, and the other man brought out the chains from his jacket to reveal the manacles inlaid with jade, handing it to Khalim. The man brought the manacles out in front of him and declared in a formal tone, "Ji WuMing, in light of the recent deaths and destruction in ZhiXia City, the Sharks have been tasked with your arrest. You are being charged with treason and dereliction of your duty to the citizens of ZhiXia City." The manacles, though large, barely went around the Whale of ZhiXia''s wrists. "In accordance with the agreement you have with the Commonwealth of ZhiXia, you will surrender to the Sharks without a fight, to be imprisoned until tried in three days by the public where each citizen can cast their vote."


    Shurra sprinted over, not understanding what these people were trying to do or why Master Ji allowed them to put those chains on him. Yet the Whale spared no glance at Shurra when the pressure of his aura sent her stumbling to her knees. "Make sure to practice every day, Shurra. The strays need to be fed."


    Khalim glanced at Shurra, then turned his attention back to Master Ji as he looped a long string of rope around the manacles. "During the trial, you will be judged by your worth and loyalty to the city''s Commonwealth. If you are found guilty by majority vote, you will be sentenced to death by voluntary suicide." Upon securing the rope, he finished, "Will you uphold the terms of your original agreement with ZhiXia City?"


    There was no hesitation in Master Ji¡¯s voice.


    "I will."

 Seventh Interlude

    Meeting notes from the Fallen Star Pavilion''s deliberations, 21st day of the second month of Spring''s Blessings, in the year 1425 of the Sun


    <hr>


    Participants


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Head Scholar ZuanBing</li>


    </ul>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Scholar Eida (Cartography)</li>


    </ul>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Scholar Norra (Cartography)</li>


    </ul>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Scholar Tryp (Accounting)</li>


    </ul>


    Agenda


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Updating maps after the To-Be-Named battle near ZhiXia City</li>


    </ul>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Cost of Materials</li>


    </ul>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Discussing the responsibility of naming the lake (?)</li>


    </ul>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Future planning</li>


    </ul>


    Meeting Notes


    Updating Cartography


    Scholar Eida commenced the meeting by addressing the need for updating all maps due to the recent battle in and adjacent to ZhiXia City. Several rivers have been created, a new lake formed, and parts of the Slumbering Forest were demolished. The Cartography department has expressed their concern about the substantial task ahead.


    Maps currently in progress will need to be considered for salvaging. The scope of the geographical changes is relatively contained to the South-Eastern area of ZhiXia City. Scholar Norra cautions against maps being updated too swiftly in case some of these rivers or lakes do not last. No name was determined for the largest lake, though scholars with expertise have weighed in with calculations deeming it unlikely to dry up. The Cartography department considered delaying creating new maps, but the importance of Sanctuary necessitates accurate maps for pilgrims and worshippers.


    Response: Head Scholar ZuanBing indicates he will confer with the other Head Scholars on whether or not this endeavor is worth stopping.


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Cost of Materials


    Scholar Norra raised the issue of the considerable expenses involved in producing and distributing updated copies of the maps to all of the Cities. This point was echoed by Scholar Tryp, who has already done an estimated cost for updating the maps. There was a general consensus that funding such an unexpected project would prove challenging for the Pavilion''s expenditures.


    Response: Head Scholar ZuanBing acknowledged the financial burden but emphasized it may be an expense that must be undertaken in order to remain committed to the accuracy of and public faith in the Pavilion''s cartography. He stressed the importance of providing accurate information to the people, citing the Pavilion''s First Law.


    Considerations for the future


    Scholar Norra suggested asking the Empire''s Titled Ones and the Whale of ZhiXia to be more mindful of the environment in future conflicts, and to avoid such extensive geographical destruction or creation. Scholar Eida expressed support for this approach, stating that raising awareness with Titled Ones could potentially reduce the need for frequent map updates. The Cartography department is wary of combat escalation, which would result in wasted materials and maps becoming obsolete by the time they are sent out. They provided the Pavilion''s records as evidence this was a common occurrence during the War of Crowns.


    Response: Head Scholar ZuanBing expressed noncommittal support. He said that it was an idea with merit, but crucially required delivering such a message to these Titled Ones. When asked if the Cartography department would volunteer, Scholar Norra and Scholar Eida suggested asking Head Scholar Panmoru.


    Action Items


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Until instructed otherwise, the Cartography department is to continue their duty of updating the maps. The Head Scholars will determine if current events indicate a need for pausing map updates and giving the external forces time to settle down.</li>


    </ul>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Head Scholars ZuanBing and Lauryn will work with the Accounting department to explore potential sources of funding to support the Cartography department''s unexpected need for more map-making resources.</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">The Cartography department has Head Scholar ZuanBing''s permission to draft a letter to the Whale of ZhiXia and the Empire requesting they be mindful of the environment when they engage in combat. Head Scholar ZuanBing stresses that the letter does not require his signature as the idea originates from the Cartography department. He has agreed to pass the idea to Head Scholar Panmoru when the Head Scholar exits mourning.</li>


    </ul>

 [Author Notes] Behind the Pages: on action sequences

    <h2>What makes for a good action sequence?</h2>


    This isn''t part of the story but also felt way too long to shove into a pre/post-chapter note, so my solution is to have something more akin to a little blog essay. The topic is simple:


    How do you evaluate if an action or fight scene is good or not?


    I think some readers might be curious to understand how a writer like me evaluates fight scenes, so here''s a bit of "behind the pages" covered from my point of view as a reader, writer, and overall consumer of media. I learned a lot coming out of writing what effectively was a 20k-word action sequence in the last arc.


    As for grading myself: the ingredients were assembled, the intent was reasonably clear, but the execution only barely made the cuff of "good enough," and so I give myself a C+. That''s not to say I believe the arc was poor (I try to deliver a pretty polished reading experience), but that my standards are just really high for myself. The version of me that wrote it understood far less about balancing a good fight sequence than the person who graded it, so to speak. But that''s growth, right? How many writers can say they wrote a 20k-word action sequence featuring one continuous fight?


    The sheer size of the fight itself amplified a ton of my learnings and takeaways as well. As with anything, small problems become bigger problems when processed at scale. A quick 2k-word fight scene can get away with certain aspects; previous fight scenes in Below the Heavens were me exploring various kinds of combat, storytelling, pacing, and more.


    My little write-up is not intended to be an exhaustive treatment on the topic as I believe a full breakdown of all the various types of action scenes is not within my abilities, nor would it be doable within what is effectively a mini-essay. I don''t consider myself a master at this either, and I''ll include a few sections about how I evaluate my own work against these criteria as well. I simply don''t think I am very good at action sequences, though I do incorporate as much as I can from what makes for a good action sequence into my other scenes of conflict (see: dialogue and negotiation scenes).


    If you find this interesting, I encourage you to apply the principles below to other stories or even evaluate other forms of media, as they should largely translate to comics, manga, anime, movies, or more. Look at mediums where you saw a great action scene and see if what I say rings true, then look for those bad ones and also see if they commit the sins I lay out.


    In case this is shared with would-be readers, I will spoiler tag points where I refer to the story.


    <hr>


    Disclaimer section:


    The following is just my own opinion. There¡¯s many ways to do action scenes and there¡¯s an audience for everything. It simply lists out what I believe makes for generically good action sequences, and will not cover some of the more niche forms and formulas that do exist and have a great impact as well. In short, this is the essence of what I judge my own work by.


    I think more importantly is to understand your goal as a storyteller. My personal style is to view action sequences as just another tool in my woven tapestry of story elements. For those who write stories where the action is the point, I doubt most of my incoherent rambling will provide any value. That being said, my goal is to hopefully have each action sequence linger with the audience and provide further revelations if ever revisited.


    <h2>What makes an action scene bad?</h2>


    Let''s start with what I believe makes for a bad action sequence or fight scene. The top three common sins I see are:


    1. It does not move the plot, develop a character, or impact the world.


    Example: This is sort of self-explanatory and often seen in gratuitous violence scenes. These tend to have a saving grace where they establish a character (they¡¯re a badass, they wake up and kill bandits for breakfast) or occasionally develop a character (the person involved is now participating in violence as a form of escapism). However, if the scene or sequence doesn¡¯t go beyond that, I often consider it a waste of time. It doesn''t linger with the audience and in many cases causes me distaste, much like adding a layer of sugar to a cake because "more sugar in sweets is good, right?"


    2. It could have probably been resolved with a quick conversation.


    Example: Well, you probably know exactly what I¡¯m talking about. ¡°Words are meaningless. The only thing left to exchange are our fists.¡± Then after the fight no one died and it¡¯s just handwaved with ¡°Well I was just testing you.¡± No ¡ª as the audience, I often feel these are a waste of my time if they did nothing besides provide spectacle. The worst offenders cheapen the very concept of the threat of violence. Perhaps establishing violence as a viable stand-in for conversation is integral to setting up the flavor of the world, but I think it becomes a bit more counterintuitive after the first instance. This inevitably devolves into spectacle creep and the writer is forced to continuously one-up their approach to violence in the face of a desensitized audience.


    It also increases the difficulty of worldbuilding in the context of society. Think of the societies in our world where violence is a day-to-day occurrence ¡ª when casual violence becomes common, it warps the entire aspect of society. Entire social norms and mannerisms have been adopted to explicitly avoid this in first world countries. Ask any individual from a country where police brutality is a social norm how they act around police.


    Don''t cheapen the violence or be ready to warp your societal worldbuilding around it.


    3. It is an extremely one-sided fight.


    Example: Any curb-stomp scene where power fantasy is not the point. These scenes tend to exist in power fantasies to serve up a specific experience for vicarious enjoyment. I firmly believe that at the heart of most good stories is the ever-present progress of struggle. Rambo is fun to watch because the power fantasy is the point. The Karate Kid is less fun to watch if Daniel beats his bully without effort and the bully cannot fight back.


    A one-sided fight can be done correctly when the violence isn''t the point. Good versions tend to focus on why the fight is one-sided, and explore both sides of that fight.


    Clarifying commentary


    I want to make it clear that I don''t look down upon these story sequences. They have their place and they''re popular because there''s an audience for that. But a reason why people consider the first Matrix movie great and the third Matrix movie not-as-great is because virtually none of the first movie¡¯s action sequences fall into the above three categories.


    Of course, there are exceptions to every rule. However, the above are often the main culprits causing bad action sequences. The litmus test for #1 and #2 are: if this fight scene were removed, would the audience¡¯s understanding of the story drastically change? If not, why did it deserve the audience¡¯s attention?


    For #3, if the main character is one-sidedly beating down on an enemy, the overall context of that scene absolutely must sell why I should still be rooting for the main character. After all, we don''t accidentally want to end up supporting the baddies.


    If it¡¯s the other way around ¡ª main character getting dumpster¡¯d by someone else ¡ª that¡¯s often used to establish the underdog main character in weak-to-strong stories. However, I often feel that these are shortcuts from a storyteller to establish ¡°hey, make sure you think and feel this way: my MC is the underdog and you should be rooting for them.¡±


    To me, this is show-not-tell with all the subtlety of a pop-up ad. My personal feelings on the matter are that I revile being SHOWN what the writer really wants to TELL me ¡ª please respect my intelligence and let me figure it out. It''s hard to pinpoint exactly when I feel that I''m being shown what to feel rather than being shown a scene and feeling it out myself, but my rule of thumb is "there is no other way to interpret this scene, a child could probably figure it out."


    I believe I¡¯m also guilty of this, so feel free to call me out on it when I fall into it. For example, there¡¯s a scene where


    I show Molam being beaten by some children. I believe I can still be forgiven because that scene had other purposes: Molam¡¯s little argument with the phoenix (character development), establishing exactly how weak Molam is without aura against children that can use it (character establishment), and introduces the state of affairs in JiangXi where children are robbing others on the streets (setting development). I¡¯m also not explicitly trying to tell the reader how to feel about Molam or the young assailants; that scene¡¯s true purpose is showing how much Molam relies on the phoenix as Molam has little ability to defend himself against a teenager.


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Finally, I¡¯m not ruling out that I will ever not use any of the above. In the end, different approaches are just tools that a storyteller should understand how to apply and keep in their toolbox. Mastery is just knowing when and where to use a tool ¡ª and why no other tool can get the job done.


    Unfortunately, I¡¯m far from being a master, hence the self-assigned score of C+.


    Now, let¡¯s look at what makes for good action sequences.


    <hr>


    <h2>What makes an action scene good?</h2>


    Knowing to avoid adding tomatoes to a fruitcake is not the same as knowing how to make a good fruitcake. So what makes for good action scenes? Here are the ingredients I believe should always be present:


    1. Clearly defined stakes


    A conflict is meaningless if the result of that fight doesn''t affect the story, characters, or world.


    ¡°Why should the reader care about this fight?¡± is hard to explicitly define, but it doesn¡¯t need to be world-changing. For example, here''s a hastily thrown-together conflict:


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Sarah¡¯s wedding is coming up and her mother believes she should wear a long-sleeved bridal gown according to tradition. Sarah does not want to go with the more traditional look, choosing to have an exact replica of her gown made in secret but completely sleeveless. On the day of the wedding, her mother finds her friend transporting the secret gown to Sarah, shredding it in the process and leaving Sarah with only the traditional gown. Sarah, in her fury, takes scissors to the traditional gown and removes the sleeves on her own. Her mother''s face freezes when she sees Sarah walk down the aisle in her makeshift sleeveless gown, and their relationship has been rocky ever since.</li>


    </ul>


    The conflict isn¡¯t actually about the gown, it just represents Sarah¡¯s desire to be her own person, not who her mother wants her to be. The importance of the fight should transcend the fight itself ¡ª the results of that fight should linger and be felt in multiple scenes afterwards. You can''t just move on from it if the fight had clearly defined stakes that mattered.


    In a similar vein, all conflicts should have meaning besides the immediate fight at hand.


    For the Roxxa fight, I did my best to make the stakes defined very early. Roxxa determined Molam to be a dangerous problem that needs to be uprooted, given he is the current vessel of the Oracle. Molam understands what Roxxa wants, and his action is to deny her that (on top of generally wanting to live). The world of Below the Heavens would absolutely have a trajectory change if Molam died here. I would explain what those changes are but they¡¯re too spoiler-ridden, however I do believe that¡¯s what each storyteller should figure out: what happens if the other side wins? I highly recommend other storytellers figure out these alternative timelines so they know the full weight of the route they choose to write.


    2. Avoid repetition, embrace variance


    I''m going to be very vague because I don''t want to be political, but there¡¯s a real war happening right now. At first it was interesting and we couldn''t look away for about two weeks. Now, for those that keep following it, the latest news is just "and they moved up a bit. Then they were pushed back a bit." Rinse and repeat. There''s a reason the media barely covers it unless something new comes up.


    All this to say: Once something has happened once in an action sequence, the storyteller should do their utmost to never let it happen again ¡ª at least, without the same result. The reader gets numb to the same action and reaction.


    I experienced this watching the latest John Wick movie. There was a point in an action scene where I found my mind wandering because I knew what was coming up. John was going to pick up a gun, shoot someone, maybe do a bit of a melee struggle, then shoot someone again. What I didn¡¯t predict was that they would drag that repetition out for quite some time in the film. I remember it because I literally picked up my phone and browsed Reddit for several minutes in the movie theater until that scene was finished.


    My issue isn¡¯t that John Wick can single handedly mow down legions of assassins. The problem was that it became repetitive. See John shoot a guy with a bullet for the Nth time and you start craving something new. Bring back killing people with a pencil ¡ª a fucking pencil!


    First John Wick movie? Excellent. Lots of variance, quite a wonderful display of out-of-the-box thinking, and any repetition was dressed up in different environments or variables to make it seem new and refreshing each time.


    I tried my best to keep it refreshing during the Roxxa fight. I think I did well with Shurra and Martyker, though I didn¡¯t do as well with Primrose and Scarlette. In my defense, Primrose and Scarlette have an extremely limited set of options against someone like Roxxa ¡ª their preferred mode of engagement would be to not fight Roxxa at all, at least not without copious amounts of preparation and perhaps when Roxxa is asleep. All in all, I did try and ensure that none of the moves revealed would be recycled without a good purpose, particularly for Shurra and Martyker.


    Molam occupied an interesting role where he was coming up with plans on the fly. I devoted most of my time thinking about Molam¡¯s various approaches for dealing with Roxxa, and so his nonphysical contributions to the entire sequence should feel the most refreshing.


    3. Omnipresent tug-of-war


    I think the best plot beats of an action sequence should be like Uno. Each side is trying to play their way to victory, and then when it comes down to it ¡ª UNO! ¡ª only to be hit with the skip skip reverse draw +4 draw +2 draw +2 ¡ª UNO! ¡ª continue ad nauseam until someone pulls it off or the other person has no way to prevent a win.


    In short: each side should be taking turns acting to forward their own win condition or react to the other side''s attempt at victory, or trying to prevent their lose condition. (There''s actually a lot of nuance here but digging into it requires a whole ''nother essay on game theory). It is this back and forth tug-of-war, taking turns "being on top" that makes up what I think readers would find genuinely interesting in a story.


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Who is going to win the next exchange?</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">How are they going to do it?</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">How is the other side going to prevent it?</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">What''s the point of turnaround?</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">What new variable has been introduced as a result?</li>


    </ul>


    That last one is very important to consider when looking at the plot beat: the circumstances of the fight or action sequence must also evolve (or degrade). Fatigue happens. A cut bleeding into the eye negates part of vision. An awkward landing leaves a person hobbling on one foot. A non-lethal blow maims a character. Each rotation of the plot beat should make the fight more desperate because struggle is the heart of storytelling.


    Roxxa''s fight is a bit off-center for this given the sheer power difference between her status as a Titled One with a Domain and the cast that fought her. However, it was also not a curb stomp (and I took great pains organically handicapping Roxxa to make the fight manageable for our fighting cast). While the overall structure of their fight was "let''s escape Roxxa," Molam never abandoned the possibility of turning the tables on her.


    While the circumstance of the fight limited what I could do to make it more of a tug-of-war, I still believe my execution of this criteria was not well done considering how lengthy the entire action sequence was. This is a major reason why I assign myself a C-.


    <hr>


    <h2>One of the best examples</h2>


    For those who want an example of what I consider an incredible action sequence, I suggest Tai Lung''s Escape</a> from the first Kung Fu Panda movie.


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">This scene combines character exposition (it''s our first time actually seeing Tai Lung), plot relevance (he''s trying to escape), and impact on the world in one go. It''s an incredible scene because I realized I was rooting for the villain of the story.</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Clearly defined stakes. Tai Lung''s success or failure of this escape scene has a tremendous impact on the plot and world. We genuinely care about this scene because we know what is at stake.</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Avoids repetition. Tai Lung''s demonstration of his guile, tenacity, resourcefulness, and ability to adapt to changing circumstances (the changing circumstances really helped) made the entire sequence thrilling all the way. Can you imagine if it was just that bridge fight scene the entire time, with Tai Lung mowing down an endless horde of rhinos? That would have been boring.</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Omnipresent tug-of-war. While Tai Lung obviously outmatches the rhinos, he''s actually fighting all their prepared measures to keep him imprisoned. Each mechanism has an easy-to-understand method of trying to keep him locked down, and there''s that UNO! moment where the audience isn''t entirely sure how Tai Lung will get out of this next predicament. And then he does. And then a new obstacle blocks his way. And then he overcomes it again. The writers did an exemplary job with managing the tension of this action sequence. Just make sure you don''t slip into the problem of the character rolling Nat20s or Deus Ex Machina as your solution, because the goal of the tug-of-war is tension.</li>


    </ul>


    <hr>


    Final words


    I hope that was an interesting read! Perhaps you will now think of these things when looking at other stories, watching movies, or just evaluating my future fight scenes. I definitely only touched the surface of this bottomless topic and hope to level up myself so I can jot down some thoughts about it again in the future, ideally with a better understanding on the topic. If there''s any more interest in Behind the Scenes-type of writeups, please let me know with a simple comment below.


    Until then, I do hope to become better at executing upon these criteria when showing action scenes.


    May the light of knowledge illuminate your path.

 Ch 58: Rigid Words

    While the Whale of ZhiXia may be synonymous with ZhiXia City''s current time of peace, the City''s original defending Titled One was Khasim, the Shark of ZhiXia, known for his dangerous lethality in close combat. He was the one who established a group of peacekeepers at the City''s founding, known as the Sharks.


    Today, they are still responsible for resolving small-time day-to-day disputes in ZhiXia City.


    ¡ª Excerpt from The City Beneath YiZhi Mountain, by Scholar Erryn


    <hr>


    ZhiXia City Center, two days before the Whale of ZhiXia''s trial


    Molam found imprisonment a curious concept.


    There were many ways to think about it. He had been imprisoned before: a short stint above a bonfire, and then for most of his life in RainBringer''s Castle. Well, it hadn¡¯t truly been an imprisonment, but his freedom of movement had certainly been restricted. Molam supposed he preferred thinking of that time as imprisonment because it helped him understand the experience, but also knew that he was fortunate to have never found himself on the wrong side of physical bars.


    Part of him thought about how he would apply imprisonment, if it ever came to that. How should it be used? As punishment? As a threat? As coercion? He remembered how Agytha had imprisoned the discontented population of JiangXi City and wondered if she had given it a similar amount of thought. Perhaps she had only treated it as a temporary removal of her enemies.


    But Molam knew one thing for certain: imprisonment spoke of an imbalance of power. By force, trickery, or something else, it made little sense for the stronger power to be imprisoned no matter how he looked at it.


    And so Molam never would have thought he would be threading his way through the gathering crowd in front of the City Center, trying to understand how the Whale of ZhiXia ended up in ZhiXia''s prison.


    "Shurra isn''t coming, then?" Molam asked, shoving past the multitude of people. All wore black clothing or black effects, the signs of mourning. Most were shouting obscenities, demanding the Whale answer for the loss of their loved ones. Molam tried his best to ignore the eerie resemblance to a crowd that had once gathered in front of a bonfire.


    "No, she says she was tasked with something important." Primrose had somehow found a way to look eye-catchingly solemn in her black dress. Her bright orange-red hair, normally wild and loose, had been tamed into a tight bun. A stem of blue satem flowers poked out from the center. Molam had no idea how she seemed to flow right through the crowd despite wearing clothes that should easily snag.


    "Something important, hm?" Molam was surprised. "More important than the Whale''s imprisonment? Any idea what that could be?"


    "I saw her leave with a sack of animal food, saying she needed to practice."


    "A sack of¡­ animal food." Molam repeated, unsure of what that could even mean. Primrose shrugged at his questioning look, and Molam decided to move on. "I''m surprised Madam Scarlette allowed you to be here. Isn''t HuaLang Chamber focusing all its efforts on charity work?"


    "Madam Scarlette is interested in this," Primrose replied, sidestepping a mother carrying two crying children. "Freeing the Whale of ZhiXia would be more important than doling out food to the needy. Wasn''t it you who told me back in JiangXi that people should be applied to what they are best at?"


    "Well, that''s true." Having pushed through the crowd, Molam found himself looking at the guarded entrance to the City Center, a large double gate with the insignia of a shark stamped on it. The same shape as the auric bubbles he had seen in ZhiXia City before. The building had been spared from the OutCast''s rampage.


    "We may need to be versatile with our approach," Molam said as they walked up to the two Shark enforcers flanking the entrance. "Remember ¡ª the trial is in two days. I''m going to speak to Master Ji, and you''re going to ¡ª"


    "Gather information," Primrose smiled, and Molam''s gaze lingered. Primrose had applied glamor in a way he couldn''t quite place, but he found the result more¡­ alluring. Something emphasized her lips and the purple of her eyes. Perhaps it was part of her plan, considering the more hotblooded Sharks should be easy targets for her. "Find out who is pushing for this. Learn what they want. Discover what the underlying circumstances are so we can free the Whale of ZhiXia."


    "Yes," Molam looked away. "We can''t go to Oasis without Master Ji."


    <hr>


    Primrose took satisfaction in Molam''s moment of distraction. Finding his weakness had become her personal game ever since she noticed Molam did not react to her usual glamor. She generally found both men and women were eager to keep the conversation going whenever she allowed her attention to wander, but Molam always seemed to be distracted by his own thoughts. Scarlette had mentioned something similar, wondering aloud whether Molam preferred the company of men; HuaLang Chamber had four Flowers that could better keep Molam in check. However, Primrose had seen little to corroborate that theory, believing Molam merely wanted to keep things cordial.


    It was a shame that Scarlette couldn''t be here. Somehow, the Madam had responded with forced calmness to the news of the Whale''s arrest and imprisonment. But Primrose had grown up with Scarlette ¡ª her flower sister still pressed her lips together when her temper seethed. Primrose knew her flower sister still cherished the faded petals she wore as a Petal when rescued by the Whale, tucked away in her journal.


    Well, it didn''t matter whether or not the Madam could be here personally. She had already assigned Flora, Cassia, and Primrose herself to this task. Though the Sharks hadn''t held real power ever since the Whale of ZhiXia had taken on the mantle of the defending Titled One, HuaLang Chamber had a few questions that needed answers: why now? What were the Sharks after?


    And, why was Captain Aster allowing it? Or worse ¡ª was Aster the one behind this decision? As Captain of the Sharks, an event this large could not have escaped his notice. There were questions and they needed to be answered soon.


    Primrose fervently hoped that Aster had only made a mistake.


    <hr>


    Jail, ZhiXia City Center


    Molam followed two members of the Sharks to the jail area. Primrose had expertly parted from him at the entrance, leaning towards a young Shark enforcer to express her difficulty with the crowd and tight spaces. Molam had no doubt she would be able to gather much information before he was done speaking to Master Ji.


    The feather stayed silent. The Oracle and the phoenix were engaged elsewhere, something about the other greater spirits. Molam hadn''t been privy to the conversation, but the phoenix had replenished the feather''s aura before he left Sanctuary.


    The man leading him was named Khalim ¡ª apparently the vice leader of the Sharks. Reasonably tall with streaks of gray in his hair, the man had processed Molam''s entry with the strict decorum of one who was used to seeing that procedures were done by the book. He had looked unimpressed when Molam showed up with Santuary''s token, asking to speak to the Whale of ZhiXia.


    "Sanctuary is not allowed to interfere with ZhiXia''s due process."


    "There is no interference in speaking," Molam had deflected.


    They stared at each other before Khalim acquiesced. "I assume you understand the rules of visitation?"


    And then came the strip search. Molam thought it completely unnecessary, given that the Sharks themselves admitted they were only holding the Whale out of his own cooperation, but Khalim said it was simply how things were done. Perhaps that was why Primrose had agreed she should stay outside. Finding nothing, they nevertheless took away a dagger Primrose had lent him before allowing him through ¡ª he didn''t know how they would react to however many blades Primrose was carrying today.


    They walked past no more than ten cells; a testament to the City''s orderliness. Or perhaps, Molam mused, the constant reminder of the Whale''s watchful Domain deterred most from their more illicit machinations.


    A Domain that, as of last night, no longer existed.


    Upon reaching the last cell, Molam frowned. Master Ji sat cross legged on the floor with the manacles on his wrists attached to the ceiling''s corners, forcing his arms into a half-raised position.


    "Why have you bound a man yet to be convicted?" Titled or not, Molam couldn''t imagine the setup to be intended for anything but discomfort. "You do understand Master Ji is allowing himself to be held here?"


    "It is simply how the law was written," Khalim responded. The other man shrugged. "Given the risk that auramasters pose."Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    "And when were these laws last updated?"


    Khalim shrugged. "Sixty years ago?"


    "Even words can rot, given enough time." Molam stepped up to the cell, pressing his hands onto the bars. "Master Ji, I''m quite short on time, given your trial is soon."


    "So you came." The Whale did not look up, nor did he move. The chains stayed silent. "How is Nettie?"


    Nettie comes first, huh? thought Molam. "She''s¡­ still a bit distraught. She blames herself for all of this happening to the City and it''s been a lengthy few conversations to explain to her that she''s not a burden." Molam looked around for a chair, then accepted one from the younger Shark. He looked towards Khalim. "May we have a private conversation?"


    The man shook his head. "The rules of visitation are clear. All interaction must be ¡ª"


    "Yes, yes, the rules," Molam pressed his lips together, quelling his exasperation. He settled down into his seat, flanked by the two men as he looked at Master Ji. He noticed the younger man''s eyes glowing a light shade of yellow. So the Sharks intended to monitor and verify his exchange with Master Ji as well. Was it Khalim''s idea? Or was it ordered by the Captain of the Sharks, this so-called Aster?


    Turning his attention back to Master Ji, Molam took in what he could visually. It had only been a day since Shurra had informed them of the arrest, but it was clear that the man hadn''t shaved for longer. Perhaps since as far back as Martyker''s death.


    "I''ll get straight to the point, Master Ji." While Primrose and the others worried about how they could potentially save Master Ji, Molam had a different question in mind. "You allowed yourself to be arrested. Those who care for you are worried about how they can help you, but I know you could leave if you wanted. Those chains aren''t enough to bind you, are they?" Molam leaned forward. "To be unwilling to lift a finger to help yourself means you must either believe this is where you should be, or you have given up and lost your will. Which is it?"


    "All actions have consequences," Master Ji responded. "I am simply here to face them."


    "Consequences? Is that what you call this misguided pillorying from masses driven mad by grief?"


    The Whale laughed grimly, the chains rattling against his wrists. "And you think yourself better than the masses? That their feelings don''t matter because they''re grieving?"


    "I don''t trust crowds," Molam answered curtly. "They tend to make short-sighted decisions."


    "I sincerely understand why you would think so."


    Silence. Molam was keenly aware of the silent Sharks behind him, listening in on this conversation. He wet his lips, then began in a low tone, "So. If, in two days, the populace votes you to be guilty: you die."


    "Yes," the Whale answered simply. No hesitation, no reservation. "To do otherwise would be to ignore the will of the people."


    "The will of the people," Molam echoed. Something about the way Master Ji didn''t even want to contest the decision elicited a buried rage deep inside of him. "Susceptible to manipulation and demagoguery. Ignorant and impulsive, easily influenced by their base desires. How many of them would willingly die to uphold the law?"


    Someone shifted behind him, but Molam did not turn, his eyes staying affixed to the Whale of ZhiXia.


    "Many would not," Master Ji¡¯s shoulders shifted in a tiny shrug. "But I do not allow the actions of others to influence my own decisions. I agreed to the law when they gave me a home here ¡ª to break my oath now would be to betray their trust even further."


    Molam could not understand. Not that he couldn''t entertain the idea; but that he considered it and found it wanting. His next words burst out with frustration and anger alike.


    "The mob outside is ruled by their emotions! They are demanding your death to satisfy their own sense of justice, because it is easier to put you to death than to rise up against the one who caused this: the OutCast, and the Empire! There''s nothing if you die, and the City won''t be better off as a result either! You''ll have lost everything and they''ll have gained nothing but a momentary satisfaction! What is the purpose of being strong like you if you still bow down to the whims of those who can''t even see past their selfish desires?"


    As the echo of his voice died down, the memory of a crowd dissipated in his mind. Molam did not want it to linger ¡ª but he knew he was not wrong. He couldn''t be. Throughout his life, he had thought that if he hadn''t been a child but someone stronger, they couldn''t have tied him down. He could have fought them, and then ¡ª


    Master Ji responded after a lengthy pause, breaking Molam''s train of thought. "That line of thinking is dangerous, Molam. Only tyrants believe they know better than what the people want."


    "To preserve one''s own life is tyrannical, is it?" Molam gripped his knees. "Do you not have regrets? Or did you ensure you lived a fulfilling life in case the Empire came here too?"


    Master Ji lifted his head and Molam recoiled, a chill creeping down his spine at the intensity of his gaze. "Do you think someone with my number of Sorrows has no regrets?" the Whale whispered. His fists clenched, and the chains began pulling taut. "Of course I have regrets. Many of them I cannot undo." The tattoo of the tiger snarled in Molam''s peripheral vision as Master Ji looked at Molam. "I am here because I do not wish to add to my regrets. To not face my responsibility; that would be another regret."


    The chains clinked, then went slack as Master Ji relaxed and hung his head again.


    "No," Molam rejected. It pained him to see this situation; the Whale of ZhiXia, chained by the very people he protected. Awaiting the possibility of death. Voluntary suicide, or so Molam had heard. The very idea disgusted him; they could not kill the Whale, but they expected him to willingly give up his life.


    But all was not lost ¡ª Molam had found what he needed to make this conversation worthwhile. Master Ji simply believed himself responsible.


    "The responsibility is mine," he leaned forward again, aware of the two men still standing behind him. "I was the one who told you to go after Nettie, leaving ZhiXia City defenseless. I was the one who tricked the OutCast into summoning an echo, causing all of the death and destruction. Martyker died because of me. I was the one who¡­" he clenched his knee again, "... who preserved my life. Tyrannical, I know." He laughed grimly, "The OutCast warned me, but I don''t care for God Yven''s call."


    "I already told you to not blame yourself for Martyker''s death. And ZhiXia City is not your responsibility."


    "No, but does that absolve me from the consequences of my actions?" Molam turned to look at Khalim''s stoic face. "Well, Khalim? Should I be judged too? I''m already here ¡ª your friend," he nodded towards the younger man with the yellow Sight, "Can attest that I speak the truth."


    "The Sight is not entered as compelling evidence in trials because witnesses can simply believe or be charmed into thinking they are telling the truth," Khalim looked down his nose at Molam. "Though this conversation is interesting, I have no orders or laws to enforce regarding your acts of self-preservation. Based on what you''ve said, the Whale of ZhiXia''s alleged crime is listening to you in the first place when he abandoned his duty to protect the city to save an inconsequential child."


    Inconsequential. Molam clenched a fist at the word. But no ¡ª he could not speak of Nettie''s status as the Prodigy or even mention the SunFlower. Flangel''s Ring had already been stolen. ZhiXia City had suffered the Empire''s invasion before, and only enjoyed their peace now because the Prince did not have the SunFlower. He could not afford for them to find out that he and the others had failed to prevent the Empire from retrieving the SunFlower''s design.


    He closed his eyes, then turned to Master Ji again. "When this is over, we''re going to Oasis. You and I will take responsibility for our actions by bringing about real change."


    Master Ji did not look up. "If they acquit me."


    "When," Molam corrected, standing up and pushing away his chair. "Votes haven''t been cast yet. Thank you for your time, Master Ji."


    <hr>


    Upon leaving the cells, Molam found Primrose still talking to several of the Sharks, three men and two women, laughing at one of their jokes. It hadn''t even been that long since they parted and Primrose already commanded their utmost attention. She noticed him immediately, excusing herself from the group, and together they left the City Center. The crowd was still gathered outside, and the shouting had grown uglier. People were demanding to see the Whale of ZhiXia, and it didn''t sound like they were looking to exchange words of goodwill.


    The two of them did not speak until they turned into a quieter alley.


    "Well?" Primrose asked immediately. "Is the Whale being drugged or threatened?"


    "Not drugged, no. And you really think someone in ZhiXia could threaten him?" Molam asked, almost bemused.


    Primrose blinked, scrunching up her nose, then corrected herself. "Yes, you''re right ¡ª that sounds silly. I have no idea what someone could hold against him."


    "Master Ji is a prisoner of his own volition. He intends to act according to the will of the people," Molam informed her, still thinking about his earlier conversation. "I don''t fully understand, but it doesn''t matter. He seems to care for his ideals, which means if we can get the people to vote in his favor, he''ll come out."


    "His¡­ ideals?" Primrose seemed just as confused. "Letting others decide his fate?"


    "I said I don''t fully understand it either," Molam repeated. "All that matters is, we need to see if it''s possible to influence the public opinion. We have two days." He looked up at the setting Sun, then puffed out his cheeks in exasperation. "My guess is HuaLang Chamber can¡­?"


    "It''s not a lot of time," Primrose''s brows furrowed, deep in thought. "But I''ll see what can be done."


    "And you?" Molam asked, then added, "Who is pushing for all this?"


    Primrose smoothed out her dress, then said, "As you may have guessed, the person pushing for the arrest of the Whale is the current leader of the Sharks, Aster." She paused, looking as though she was considering adding more, but then decided against it. "HuaLang Chamber knows Aster. Madam Scarlette will be able to speak with him; I believe she has already looked for him."


    Molam nodded, his mind awhirl. "Tell Madam Scarlette that I''m curious to know this Aster''s motivations."


    "HuaLang Chamber is quite experienced in gathering information without any reminders." Primrose seemed miffed.


    "Of course. I didn''t mean to imply otherwise," Molam apologized. "I''ll need to find out as much as I can about the law and how this will be conducted." He frowned; ZhiXia City uniquely did not have a Library, and the only one nearby he knew of was high up in the clouds. "I suppose," he thought aloud, "I''ll need to go back to the City Center. I need more information if we''re going to resolve this predicament."


    "That is good to hear," the voice came from behind Molam. "Perhaps we can talk?"


    Primrose slid past Molam, spinning him around as she went, her voice challenging. "And why are you following us?"


    Recovering from his momentary disorientation, Molam settled his gaze on Khalim. The older man had his hands held out, signifying he was unarmed and not a threat.


    "I was looking to speak with Molam," Khalim explained, taking a step closer to them. Primrose did not budge from her ready stance, one hand reaching behind her back. "Though it sounds like Molam was already on his way back towards the City Center. Perhaps there''s mutual interest in having a discussion in my office?"


    Molam''s eyes narrowed. "And what makes it mutual?"


    Khalim met his gaze with a disarming smile. "I would also like to save the Whale of ZhiXia."

 Ch 59: A Matter of Opinion

    I knew nothing when I wrote the first laws under the Sun.


    All I had were questions:


    How can mere rules ¡ª agreements of conduct ¡ª be enforceable, derive power, and have lasting impact?


    How should laws take into account those who have yet to be born?


    What gives anyone the right or privilege to make laws?


    In the end, my first laws were my most flawed. I based them on the rules my companions and I had agreed to when we fought the demons. But those were merely a set of loose agreements to reduce infighting, not meant to be enforced onto a general populace. None of these laws retained their original forms for longer than four centuries.


    The one law that remains unchanged is, ironically, written by my friend [redacted], who was possibly the most stubborn of our group of companions.


    "It is essential to regularly assess and reassess the effectiveness and relevance of all existing rules. A rule must justify its continued existence."


    This is the most valuable law of them all.


    ¡ª Excerpt from Meditations, by the Red Emperor


    <hr>


    ZhiXia City Center


    "They''re with me," Khalim waved at the two Sharks standing outside the door after they had struggled once more through the crowd. The duo, a younger man and a middle-aged woman, nodded to Khalim and opened the door for the three of them. Khalim walked through, followed by Molam and Primrose.


    Molam didn''t expect to be back so soon, but Primrose seemed to take it in stride. Both Sharks cast surreptitious glances at Primrose as they passed, once again paying little attention to Molam. It reminded him how most people tended to find his companions more memorable, a situation Molam preferred. Kalle and Shurra had always drawn eyes with their strong Northern builds, and Primrose was just¡­ captivating, no matter the beholder.


    The door to Khalim''s office opened, smooth and silent. The utilitarian and orderly space within did not betray Molam''s expectations of the man''s preferences.


    "Have a seat," Khalim gestured at the chairs in the room as he made towards a small table holding supplies for tea.


    "I don''t know if we have time for tea." Molam pulled over two chairs, noting how Primrose inspected their surroundings. Her gaze lingered on Khalim as he shifted his aim away from the tea table and towards the bookshelf, pulling down a leather-bound tome with faded ink characters on the cover.


    "That makes it simple, then." Khalim set the thick book down on his desk, then nodded towards Primrose, who had not yet sat down. "Relax, young lady. You can rest assured that the Sharks still abide by the old agreement with HuaLang Chamber."


    Primrose seemed to think, but Molam knew her enough to know her subtle air of indifference could mislead the unwary. A moment later, she sat down. Her pose was relaxed, her face composed, but Molam could see the way her arm dangled behind her at the ready; the same posture she had used when they¡¯d first met. She nodded towards Molam, and he took that as her confirmation that they were reasonably safe.


    "I hope you understand that we are short on time," Molam began. He didn''t know Khalim enough to know what approach would work best, so he could only feel the situation out as he went. The possibility of having the Vice Captain on his side was tempting indeed. "But it''s convenient for this conversation to take place right after you heard me speak to Master Ji. Since the Sharks are responsible for his detainment and the summoning of a trial, I¡ª"


    "You have reasonable suspicions on whether my intentions are aligned with yours," Khalim finished for Molam. "My apologies for interrupting, but you did say you were constrained on time."


    Molam paused to consider if he should act offended or challenge Khalim. In the end, he settled for a simple, "Yes."


    "Then to make this quick," Khalim pointed at Primrose, "May I request you use your Sight for the duration of this conversation, young lady? You are trained in it, yes?"


    Primrose and Molam exchanged a glance. To openly subject someone to the Sight during a conversation was disrespectful at best; if Khalim was requesting it in advance, he must have thought his words would be distrusted. Molam could appreciate that. He nodded at Primrose, who closed her eyes and reopened them with a purple glow.


    "Thank you. Now, to put your reservations to rest, know that my personal feelings are supportive of the Whale of ZhiXia." Khalim sat down opposite Molam, who kept his eyes on the man''s face. Primrose might be able to catch any overt lies, but the Sight was not infallible. "However, my position in the Sharks means that I must execute the law as it is written."


    Molam glanced at Primrose for confirmation. She nodded. Molam turned his attention back to Khalim, meeting the older man''s steady gaze. "And so," he thought aloud, "In order to do what you cannot, you sought us out. I take it you have something specific for me?"


    "I like a man who is quick on the uptake," Khalim nodded, pushing the tome towards Molam. He flipped it open to a page near the back where a thin sheet of parchment acted as a bookmark, which Khalim tapped with a finger. "This is a copied segment from the journal of my grandfather Khasim, the original Shark of ZhiXia. I found the entry where he and the Whale of ZhiXia came to terms with the Whale''s then-temporary stay in ZhiXia City and their agreement to give the residents some peace of mind. And this," Khalim pointed to the page itself, "is the specifics of the law where citizens vote. I imagine HuaLang Chamber can come up with something if they know the ins and outs of the rules we''re working with." He gestured to the writing materials nearby. "You may not borrow it, but you may copy it for your own reference."


    Molam glanced at Primrose again, who nodded. "You''ve given this quite some thought." He pulled over a fresh page and selected a brush, then paused. "Ink?"


    Khalim produced an inkstone and inkstick. "I''ll prepare it for you," he said, pouring some water into the inkstone. "You can read the text in the meantime."


    "Thank you. Primrose? Come read this with me; you may have different insights."


    Primrose pulled her chair over, pinching Molam on the arm as she sat down.


    "We''ll need to return to HuaLang Chamber soon," she reminded him, leaning in to look at the text. The pages ¡ª or parchment ¡ª were old, but the calligraphy was neither faded nor illegible. Khalim and the previous owners had kept it in pristine condition.


    "Yes," Molam agreed, shifting the tome so that it was closer to her. He had already finished skimming the text; now he picked over it more carefully, occasionally glancing up to watch Khalim grind out the ink. "But Madam Scarlette can wait. Information is important."


    The next few moments were silent, broken only by the soft sound of Khalim grinding the inkstick in a circular motion against the inkstone. "Shall I help with the latter half? Starting at the section about the way votes are counted."


    Molam looked up, surprised by the gesture. "Please, and thank you."


    "I''ll do what I can for you so long as it''s within the law," Khalim said, tapping the inkstick inside the inkstone''s well, allowing several drops to run down the side before drying the inkstick and storing it away. Seeing the ink was ready, Molam pushed the heavy book between the two of them, rotating it so that Khalim could read and copy the latter half. In response, Khalim pushed the inkstone towards the space between them, ensuring it was far from the book. "Let us begin."


    Molam pulled over a fresh page and inked his brush, starting the process of transcribing the relevant text. Khalim did the same across from him, but produced a quill.


    "That''s surprising," observed Molam. "I didn''t take you to prefer a quill."


    "I find it better suits my style," the man responded, dipping into the inkstone''s well then tapping it against the side. "I also write faster with it, which will save you some time."


    They looked down to their work, Molam starting with the section on who could call a vote and how.


    Once there is enough support for a vote, the City Center will send notice for a general vote no less than three days in advance. The topic and subject matter should be included with the notice, though additional points of interest can be introduced before the vote. Those who do not arrive will not have their vote counted. The exact methods may also be determined when¡­


    Four paragraphs of this. Molam frowned. This transcription would take some time. He looked ahead as he wrote out the first sentence, pondering the material as he dipped his brush again. Yes, it would be faster to cut the extraneous words; whoever had written the original text had opted to be delicately verbose. Starting with the second sentence, he began condensing where he could.


    Across from him, Khalim''s quill scratched against the page in orderly strokes following a steady rhythm. Impressively, each word of each sentence was written neatly without error. Molam could see he¡¯d already transcribed a sizable section without making a single mistake. The flow only stopped when Khalim needed to reink his quill.


    "Your writing is quite disciplined," Molam complimented. "Each of your letters seem to be a duplicate of previous iterations. I could never do that so consistently."


    "You can have a similar level of mastery. There is no secret," Khalim responded, changing a sheet of paper. "Disciplined consistency."


    "Consistency is the surest path to improvement," Molam agreed. "But isn''t that ironic? The goal of consistency seems to be for measurable change."


    "Only when it''s an improvement." Khalim raised his eyes to look at Molam, then lingered on Molam''s transcription. "Are you cutting out words?"


    "It''s faster."


    "Far be it from me to tell you what you should bring back," Khalim pointed with his quill, "But you''ll miss the finer details if you take shortcuts, young man. Copy everything correctly."


    Molam frowned, then read aloud, "To ensure no voter casts multiple votes, ZhiXia City will use alchemy tools to collect votes. Each tool will leverage the runes specified in Section 6.9 of the Appendix or use updated versions from Techoria to ensure that voters cast their votes through aura deposits unique to the voter. The tools are to be subjected to public inspection before and after the voting sessions, and if there is a discrepancy ¡ª" he looked up at Khalim, "I don''t believe I need all of that."


    Khalim shrugged. "Words matter. They were written for a reason."


    "They do, but words are just meaning given form," Molam countered, going back to his notes to add: Alchemy devices to make sure people only vote once, determined by aura signatures. Inspected before and after. He contemplated flipping to the appendix to look for the runes, but realized he couldn''t do that without pausing Khalim''s work. "Just like how you and I have different calligraphy, yet the meanings are the same. Isn''t the meaning all that matters?"


    "Yes, but we still write the same word, just with our own styles," Khalim responded. "It wouldn''t do much for having a system of writing if you and I wrote different symbols down and claimed they were the same thing now, would it? Writing ¡ª language itself ¡ª only functions because society as a whole agrees to its form."


    "Certainly. But even what''s agreed upon changes." Molam dipped his brush again. He was beginning to get an idea of what kind of man Khalim was, and he didn''t like it. Not the man, of course. Just that the man was exactly the type of person to be useful if you wanted certain results, and a big obstacle if you wanted to pursue the opposite. "We don''t write in the Old Tongue anymore. Too many brushstrokes, yes? Even this book of law ¡ª old as it is ¡ª was written in Common. That would have been unthinkable just several centuries ago when it was expected to be written in the Old Tongue, but as society changes, so too must the rules."


    "You present the idea as though you are the first to think about it. Rules change when society adopts change. In the end, people come together because of an agreed-upon set of rules, codified into law, making it agreeable to live and interact with each other. That is the basis of what makes a society."


    "And should rules be applied uniformly?"


    "There is a process ¡ª"


    "That wasn''t my question," Molam interrupted. He hadn''t yet decided his angle, but wanted to poke to find out. "Take your lettering, for example. You chose a quill because it allows you to write swiftly and precisely, allowing each of your individual characters to look the same. But the brush," he nodded to his instrument, "allows me to have larger variations in the thickness of my strokes." Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    He demonstrated by pressing down harder while finishing the rest of the sentence, the inkwork coming out with bolder lines. "I think that rules, like a brush, should be applied with varying degrees of weight. The word is the same, the rule is the same, but application matters too." Lessening the weight on his bristles, Molam tapered off the final word with a sharp point. "And perhaps sometimes, knowing when something does not apply can make all the difference."


    Khalim reinked his quill, pulling over a new page. "How many Sorrows have you seen, young man?"


    Not the response Molam wanted. "Does it matter for the topic at hand?"


    "I used to bristle as well whenever my elders asked me about my Sorrows," the man blew lightly on the page to help the ink dry. "But as Flangel the Wise wrote: If only wisdom did not come from grief, strife, and pain. You ask why it matters? I recognize your line of thinking; I was a younger man when I entertained these thoughts myself."


    "Oh? And what made you change your mind?"


    Khalim''s quill scratched away on the paper. "Selective application of the rules lends itself to corruption. Once the people know that the law can be bent ¡ª that there can always be a new ''precedent'' ¡ª you no longer have a society unified by agreement. You end up with a collection of individuals examining how they can bend the rules to their advantage ¡ª just as you are hoping to do now ¡ª or even be exempt from the consequences." The Shark paused, then added, "When the rules are meaningless, society collapses."


    "Society is not formed by rules," Molam protested lightly. Yes, Khalim was exactly this type. He would need to think of a new angle. "You can''t have a society without people, and it is the people that apply the rules. They choose what rules to apply and what rules to ignore, and sometimes," Molam dipped his brush back into the inkwell, "Blind adherence to the law is what hurts society. Take a look at this brush; each bristle soaks up some ink, then they all come together to be part of the stroke. The ink, the bristles, the brush, the paper are all blind, Khalim. It is the hand that guides it, and it is the hand that decides what should be used. Giving any of that up means¡ª"


    The quill stabbed down into the inkwell, splitting the bristles of Molam''s brush. He pulled back, startled, looking up to see Primrose''s hand on Khalim''s wrist, a knife at Khalim''s throat. But Khalim paid the knife little heed, his hard gaze focused on Molam. "By whose hand, Molam? Yours? Do you rule here? Look how easily your brush splits. Single, ununified strands, held together by the barest modicum of bonding."


    His eyes looked up to Primrose, "I believe the old agreement is still standing. Is a Flower of HuaLang Chamber going to break it?"


    "No, but I think you''re putting a bit too much faith in mere agreements." Primrose did not release her grip. "I would appreciate it if you avoid making any sudden movements that look even remotely threatening again." She withdrew the blade, a bead of blood forming along Khalim''s neck. "None of your precious laws can prevent you from being hurt, can they?"


    "I apologize for Primrose ¡ª we''re in a jittery state given it''s only been two days after the Empire''s attack." Molam raised his eyebrow at Primrose. She let go of Khalim''s wrist, sitting back down. The knife had disappeared, but her eyes remained focused. "We do appreciate you helping out, even going so far as to contribute to the transcription."


    "Then I want to make this very clear. I am not helping you because I want to break the law, Molam. Don''t act innocent; I know exactly what you''re trying to get out of me with that line of talk. I did not volunteer to help you copy these words because I believe they are wrong. Dispel any notion of recruiting me to your side. I only want to see to it that you have the information you need to utilize the laws of ZhiXia in a way that may provide an alternative outcome. And here you are, pointing out the inadequacies of uniformity. But have you considered this?"


    He lifted his quill, showing Molam the strands of his brush stuck on the tip, then began drawing a straight line across an empty sheet of paper. "When things aren''t uniform, they begin to stray from the path like so." The quill drew a straight line across the paper, but the torn off bristles drew looping circles and dragged themselves along the side of the line, casting an inky smudge in their wake. "If it wasn''t applied equally to everyone, then you are wasting your time copying all of this. The agreed-upon laws exist for everyone''s benefit."


    "Is that so?" Molam asked, seeing the flaw. "And how does holding this vote in two days benefit ZhiXia City?"


    "Must I explain the purpose of voting to you?" Khalim picked the strands off his quill, then resumed transcribing. "If the citizens of ZhiXia City have decided the Whale of ZhiXia''s service erases the pain of his failure, they can decide if ¡ª"


    "You misunderstand," Molam interrupted. "I''m not asking about voting. My question was more about the timing: why hold it two days from now?"


    Khalim''s quill paused ¡ª briefly. Then he resumed writing without looking up. "Does it matter?"


    "Timing always matters. Calling a vote at this time before the bodies are even done cremating or in the ground speaks to me of someone trying to use uniform application of the law in their favor. The same vote a month later might have different results."


    "The people will decide. It is not up for us to ¡ª"


    "Stop hiding behind that!" Molam almost shouted, such was his frustration. Why did people always avoid facing their decisions by saying it was the result of a consensus? He sighed, then lowered his voice. "People aren''t exactly rational, Khalim. It seems that you don''t care for any individual hand wielding the law with selective application, but now you''re accepting selective timing? Does it not alarm you, then, that the timing of this vote seems to be deliberate?"


    "You have such little faith in people to make the right choice, Molam."


    "Individuals make choices," Molam responded. "Groups merely rally around the strongest emotion ¡ª hate, pride, fear, triumph, rage, awe, or loathing. The law won''t be observed when emotions reign. You should be old enough to know that."


    Khalim didn''t respond, finishing up his sentence and blowing on the page. "Are you finished with your sections?"


    Molam pointed to his completed summaries.


    "Do you want the Appendix cited in the text?"


    "Yes. But before that, may I check?" Molam motioned towards Khalim''s pages. The man pushed his pages towards Molam, who swiftly compared the writing with what was on the page.


    "I''m impressed," Molam admitted. "Copied exactly as written."


    "The runes are in Section 6.9," Khalim reminded him.


    Flipping to the relevant section revealed the four runes required for the voting, and the two of them brought over a new page to copy two each.


    "Your insistence that groups cannot be trusted reminded me of your talk with the Whale," Khalim continued thoughtfully, as though there had never been a lull in their conversation. "I remember thinking at the time: this young man seems to speak from personal experience."


    After a moment, Molam replied, "Perhaps I do."


    Kalle didn''t bat an eye. "I am listening."


    Molam hesitated, looking at the two runes on his side of the page. One looked like a series of intricate circles with interlocking parallel lines, and the other seemed to be a complicated fractal. He had seen alchemists like Kalle carve runes that shaped aura many times, but had never dabbled in rune carving himself. Would a minor mistake change what was necessary? He could only do his best and hope that Nettie would know what rune he meant if he explained its purpose to her.


    "Some villages have a tradition: if RainBringer does not show them favor, they¡­ appeal." Molam began slowly, both with his words and with his brush. He decided to draw the circles first. "After a long drought, the village''s grain storage encountered an infestation of rats. There wasn''t enough food to go around. And so, they paid tribute."


    Khalim looked up at the word, frowning deeply. "Tribute. The old way?"


    "The old way," Molam confirmed.


    "Food, or¡­?"


    "Not food, no. Of course not food; they had none to spare. But they had a boy whose parents never returned after they had tried to go hunting in order to put meat on the table." The circles had been drawn in the right places, but Molam''s inexperienced hand made them look more like ovals. Oh well. "A boy who, in the eyes of the rest, was just an extra mouth to feed. And so, when the village came together to decide what that tribute should be, none of the adults spoke up for the boy."


    "An unfortunate story," Khalim blew on his two completed runes. "But if you didn''t know, tributes done the old way burn elderwood from the World Tree. That boy would not have suffered; it''s written that the flame of elderwood summons spirits to take the tribute to ¡ª"


    "No," Molam interrupted. "He died."


    "It seems you aren''t listening. Tributes done the old way¡ª"


    "They didn''t have any elderwood left." Molam''s grip tightened around his brush; the line wobbled in place. "They traded it for food long before they thought drastic measures would become necessary. They knew it would require elderwood too. And yet¡­" he shrugged, "their children were hungry and fear ruled, so they voted accordingly for hope. The result was¡­ unanimous," he smiled wanly. "When people feel a certain way, they vote a certain way. If I try to think better of them, I like to think it was despair that voted for what would not work."


    He looked up to begin on the second rune, only for Khalim to push three completed rune copies to him. "I saw you were having difficulty. I suppose the work is now complete."


    "Allow me to check again," Molam picked up the runes, inspecting them against what was in the book. Khalim''s copies were near perfect. Molam glanced through the book''s table of contents before he closed the book, pocketing the paper slip that had copied the promised journal entry. He looked at Primrose and nodded.


    Primrose stood up with him. Molam held out his hand to Khalim, who was putting away the writing supplies. The man showed his ink-stained fingers, then offered Molam the other hand. Molam took it.


    "Thank you for your help," he said as they shook hands. Then, "What do you think about that village''s vote?"


    "A silly question. A story like that would never be reality, because any law like that would make provisions for having no elderwood. People," the man''s grip tightened, "Make the right decisions in the end."


    "I was there," Molam asserted calmly.


    Khalim''s eyes darkened. He looked at Primrose, whose eyes still glowed. She saw his look, then slowly nodded. The man''s brows furrowed.


    "Would you have done it?" asked Molam.


    "If there had been elderwood, there would be no need to hesitate. As I said earlier, it''s been written that¡ª"


    "Because ''it''s been written''? Is that it?" Molam strengthened his grip as soon as he felt Khalim''s loosen, then quoted the Companions, "They said: So it was written. And we followed, for we never thought to read."


    Khalim''s eyes narrowed at the indirect accusation. Molam let go of their handshake. The man slowly pulled back, flexing his fingers, deep in thought.


    "I hope you spend as much thought on how to save the Whale, Molam."


    "I may need further cooperation from one who knows the law so well."


    "Only if the rules permit it."


    Molam pressed his lips together. It seemed this was a point on which Khalim refused to budge. He contemplated pressing further, then held up the copied pages in acknowledgment. "I''m certain you''re a busy man. We can see ourselves out."


    The man gestured his agreement, cleaning up the rest of the table.


    Primrose kept her eyes trained on Khalim until they left the room, walking back out the way they came in. Her sharp look shifted to her customary pleasant smile the moment they came into view of the other Sharks. Molam walked along silently, deep in thought as he fidgeted with the loose sheafs of transcription paper, content with Primrose taking the lead on greeting several Sharks by name when they waved to her.


    Once outside, they were again treated to the view of an angry crowd, shouting obscenities at the Sharks standing guard in front of the City Center. Molam heard things adults probably shouldn''t be saying in front of children, then disregarded it when he saw the children joining in.


    Perhaps they didn''t truly understand the spectacle, only that their elders were participating and they did not want to be left out.


    Or perhaps blind hate was an emotion that came naturally.


    Molam tried to tune it out, wordlessly pushing through the side of the crowd with Primrose as they searched for a quiet spot to readjust themselves. Someone bumped into Molam, but Primrose''s hand shot out and twisted the man''s wrist, forcing the thief to drop Molam''s coin pouch. A swift upward tap from the tip of her shoes sent the pouch soaring back upwards, where she caught it.


    "Thanks," he muttered as he followed Primrose out of the crowd.


    "You''re distracted," she turned around and dropped the recovered goods back in his hand. "Still thinking about what Khalim said, or something else?"


    "Two days before the vote," Molam tried to tame a mind full of an unfocused jumble of thoughts, trying to decide what was most important. There were so many courses of action possible, but he couldn''t try all of them. "Not enough time to make an informed decision."


    "And? We''ll just come up with a plan of action. What exactly is the problem?"


    "I''ll list out the ones I can think of right now then. Khalim may be misdirecting us, for one."


    "I''m not sure. He never lied to you the entire time."


    Molam rubbed his temples. "Not lying isn''t the same as being truthful. Or helpful." He held out the copied text. "This is useful for knowing the process of voting. Nothing in it allows for calling off the vote. Khalim could believe this is useful to us, but the only way for me to check is to look for a copy of that book. But to do that we would need to track one down."


    "That seems simple enough. We could ask Sanctuary."


    "That''s just one problem. Of many. Don''t even mention the time it would take me to read the rest of that lawbook; you saw the crowd just now ¡ª I want to know if the crowd can be swayed. If everyone voted right now, what would happen? If the City''s sentiment is close enough to be influenced, who are the right ones to talk to? Does everyone understand the written law? Do they care?" He emphasized the word with a fist to the wall. "Do these people really understand what happens if they vote for Master Ji''s death? Or is it because they bear no responsibility because it''s a vote and none of them alone made the final decision?"


    A gentle hand wrapped around his fist. Molam looked up to see Primrose softened gaze. "I understand you''re thinking of that village you talked about, but that''s in the past now. That boy may be dead, but the Whale of ZhiXia is still alive. Focus. We should concern ourselves with the one we can still save."


    "I ¡ª" he bit back the rest of the sentence. Primrose was right. A deep breath and long exhale later, Molam straightened; the Sun was setting. "We''ve delayed long enough; I was only expecting to speak to Master Ji today. It''s time to return to HuaLang Chamber."


    Primrose nodded. "Yes. But if you walk in with a string of questions like that, she''ll put a needle in you. Maybe three."


    "I guess I''ll just have to come up with a working plan before I step into HuaLang Chamber. At the very least, we should find out: Why now? And what does Aster want?"

 Ch 60: Motivations

    Many have asked me: What is the correct way to govern?


    I have given this question much thought and can only profess my frustration.


    The problem stems from the myriad people that we have. Two can certainly agree; but three, inevitably, will disagree.


    Add more people and you add more variables, each with different opinions and conflicting desires. Gather more than a certain number of people and you naturally wish to reduce each variable to categories in order to simplify the problem.


    But just as no two apples are exactly the same, how can we treat all humans equally?


    There are no right answers, only wrong ones. Even what works is only temporary and always found through compromise, meaning no one is satisfied by the state of affairs.


    This results in a tenuous state of socialization ripe for disruption. And when it tips over, what happens? Revolutions and strife.


    Alchemy is straightforward, but people are not.


    ¡ª Excerpt from the journal of Flangel the Wise


    <hr>


    ZhiXia City ¡ª Martial Arena


    To Shurra¡¯s surprise, faces peeked up from the swirling mass of fur that had, just a second ago, been focused solely on the food she doled out. Dogs¡¯ tails blurred with wagging, and the cats¡¯ demanding meows were replaced with strong purrs. Shurra glanced up, then, sensing no danger from the approaching figure, looked back down, shifting some of the hungry animals and wondering why they didn''t think to look for bowls with the least amount of competition. She waited for the man to come closer before she spoke up.


    "I wasn''t expecting you, GloomSire," said Shurra.


    "That''s because you still rely on your eyes. My Domain enveloped you some time ago, and you weren''t even on guard." The man still covered himself from head to toe, but had discarded the thick cloak he wore during Winter''s Sorrow.


    Shurra chose to ignore the remark. "Is there a reason you''re here?"


    "Master Ji came to see me a few days ago about Molam''s request, then asked me to oversee your training. I came as soon as I recovered from my injuries."


    Shurra frowned. "Where is your bond? The pixiu."


    "Sent to JiangXi at Molam''s request. Continue with what you were doing."


    A moment of confusion later, Shurra understood. Molam had been adamant about needing to get Kalle out of JiangXi as soon as possible, and what faster way than to fly?


    Nodding to herself, she turned back to her charges, all once again clamoring for more food. Once she began thinking of the exercise as similar to how she stayed vigilant of her surroundings while hunting, it became easier to connect the hungry pets with her background. Now, all she had to do was step around lightly, as she had seen the Whale do, shifting animals around each bowl and ensure that ¡ª


    A dog yelped and hopped to one side, whimpering. She knelt, apologizing for stepping on its tail with a handful of kibble. It licked its nose, giving her a look of reproach before coming closer, deciding the offering was sincere.


    Well, Shurra thought as she let the dog lick her hand clean, I can''t expect to exert a Domain in just a few days of practice.


    "Master Ji gave you an interesting exercise," GloomSire observed. "I learned this skill by standing under large trees shedding their leaves. Autumn''s Colors had almost faded before I went through an entire day without being touched by a single one."


    "Why not with animals?" asked Shurra.


    GloomSire sat down on the ground, crossing his legs to allow a small batch of cats to fight over his lap as the dogs sniffed him, their tails wagging. Several tried licking his face, but he guided them away with a firm finger on the snout. "My affinity with them would hinder me from learning the ability to focus on everything at the same time."


    Shurra glowered ¡ª none of the animals had shown her the same level of affection. Even the dogs were more interested in the food she brought than Shurra herself, and cats were cats. But she was curious. "What is it like to be an Anima?" The few born into the Northern Tribes became Seers, separated from the rest of the Tribes.


    "Loud, but not in the way of hearing," the Titled One responded. "They''re always communicating ¡ª incessantly, mind ¡ª in speech humans neither think about nor care to understand." A cat leapt onto his shoulder, rubbing its scent over his hood, its tiny body rumbling with a purr. He ignored it. "For example, right now they are all asking why the large man hasn''t come to feed them even if his aura is in the City. And, why do you seem to not ever bother answering them."


    Shurra looking at the sea of fur, staying silent as though that would somehow make her capable of hearing whatever GloomSire was speaking of. Still hearing nothing, she shrugged and tried to focus on her mental exercise, but the topic had been breached. Keeping her voice monotone, Shurra said, "I assume you''re here because you heard about the Whale."


    "In a way. As I said earlier: he asked me to take over your guidance to see if you could produce a Domain."


    It hit Shurra, then. The reality of it all. She had been so focused on practicing that she hadn''t found the time to think through the significance of recent events. Or¡­ perhaps she had been avoiding facing it by diving into her exercises.


    The strongest person she had ever met could die in just two days, and it was not from an insurmountable fight against an overwhelming opponent. It was not through some freak catastrophe, or even of divine intervention. No ¡ª the Whale of ZhiXia, a living legend, faced the wrath of the very people he had protected.


    The question came out. "You think the Whale will die?"


    "If they convict him. Your mind is wandering; focus."


    But she could not. Shurra looked up, meeting GloomSire''s gaze. "The Whale is going to die because others tell him he should?"


    Though much of the man''s features were obscured, she could hear a somber tone enter his voice. "I hardly agree with Master Ji''s ideals, but he has a right to them. His readiness to risk his life sets him apart from those who defend their ideals only when there''s no danger to themselves. I can respect that."


    "Is this not¡­ suicide?" Shurra asked.


    "You have such little faith in his likeability."


    "It''s not about likeability." That wasn''t what gnawed at Shurra. "It''s about how he doesn''t struggle against it. When they came for him, he seemed to have already accepted it ¡ª as though he didn''t care about the possibility that he would die." This irked her ¡ª no, it distressed her. Perhaps GloomSire was right. "Why would the Whale of ZhiXia accept this kind of death? The possibility that it would be his last act? Unless he refuses to honor a guilty verdict, in which case no one in the City could possibly stop him from ¡ª"


    "He wouldn''t, and you know that."


    A fist clenched around her heart. Just as GloomSire said, Shurra knew deep down that the Whale would accept the outcome if the people voted that he was guilty. He would never run away from the death sentence.


    "Your concentration has waned again."


    She blinked, her vision coming into focus again. Her mind wandered, trying to recapture the earlier sense of focus she''d barely managed, but then she turned to GloomSire. It was pointless to try when so many thoughts overwhelmed her mind.


    "I was just thinking," Shurra searched for the words to describe her confusion, "that I didn''t understand why Master Ji would allow this to happen to him when¡­ he''s strong. No one in ZhiXia could restrain him. The strong should not bow to the weak."


    "Think about that on your own time. My patience is limited to teaching you what I promised him, in the hopes that being a mentor can give me insight into my shortcomings. Perhaps you''ll find the answer to what Master Ji is thinking when you yourself become strong one day."


    The words stung Shurra; her immediate instinct was to stand tall and look down upon him ¡ª how dare this thin, sickly-looking man lecture a daughter of the White Bear? Then she collected herself with several deep breaths. He was still a Titled One, at least eight decades old. She couldn''t even beat his bond.


    "All I''ve ever wanted is to become strong enough to not bow to the whims of others," Shurra growled, contemplating if it was wise to challenge him right now as part of her training. Yet the question burned in her mind, and she decided she must have it answered. "But what¡­ is the purpose of becoming powerful if something as simple as ideals can be your downfall?"


    GloomSire pondered her question silently, a hand scratching under a dog¡¯s chin. The other dogs that had eaten their fill were already lined up behind the current one, awaiting their turn. The cats did not line up ¡ª those that had already claimed a spot on his lap gazed triumphantly at the cats around him, who glowered.


    "If you insist on listening to the musings of an old man who has gone down many wrong paths," he finally responded, "Master Ji once told me that the only enemy we keep throughout our lives ¡ª the only one we must fight repeatedly ¡ª is none other than ourselves." He fell silent, then shrugged and added, "I think becoming strong helps you live long enough to meet those who truly care for you. They are the ones who will then guide you away from the wrong paths, the ones who can still sit down and speak with you when you lose to yourself."


    Shurra stared. "I find that difficult to accept. Strength is when you don''t rely on anyone but yourself. Strength is what you need because others may abandon you."


    "You are confusing strength with competence. A lone wolf is competent, but it is the strength of the pack that causes fear."


    "Humans aren''t wolves," Shurra replied. "The strength I seek is ¡ª"


    "Look at the battle in front of you that has you so distraught," GloomSire''s voice took on a frigid, stern tone. "And it is a battle. One that you don''t understand because Master Ji''s current plight is not a battle that can be won through force or strength, but through heart and mind. Did you not realize your own inadequacies in this area? And have you forgotten who you trusted to resolve it?"


    The notion struck Shurra as though she had suddenly become aware of a color she had never noticed before. "I¡­" she mumbled, thinking about Primrose and Molam. "I didn''t think of it that way."


    "Your frustration at being powerless in this situation is understandable." A cat meowed at GloomSire from his shoulder, earning itself a finger flick for its attempt to climb the man''s head. "You should put more trust in others, especially when they can fight the battles you cannot. Remember: Molam and Primrose rely on you to fight the battles they cannot."


    "That¡­ does make some sense." In a roundabout way.


    "Now then, if we''ve put your worries to rest, you should start again."


    Shurra turned to look at the strays, who had cleaned out the bowls. "But they''re already done eating, GloomSire."


    "There is a reason why Master Ji asked me to oversee your training," the Titled One''s eyes pulsed a deep blue and the animals sitting on him slid off, marching obediently into a formation at the silent command. "And I dislike the Title the merchants gave me. From now on, you are to address me as Master Yao-ren."If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    <hr>


    A Small Tea Shop, ZhiXia City


    Scarlette waved cheerily. "Aster, over here. Come, sit. I''ve already poured the tea."


    "Madam Scarlette," the man walked up to her table. Aster was a striking figure, standing at a commanding height with a well-built frame that spoke of his disciplined lifestyle. A hint of his natural fair complexion could still be seen up beyond his tanned arms, indicating his commitment to being a leader that did more than sit behind a desk. His most distinctive feature was perhaps his piercing amber eyes, framed by thick, dark eyebrows and carrying an intense, determined gaze. "Weren''t you the one who taught me persistence is a quality better left to self-improvement?"


    "My, not even a word of kindness between old friends?" Scarlette raised her cup in greeting. "Though what you say is true. I wouldn''t have had to persist in my invitation if you had simply agreed to see me yesterday."


    "If you haven''t noticed, half the City is in shambles. I have rebuilding efforts to oversee, and some problematic individuals have taken to looting."


    The man was straightforward and to the point, as usual. Scarlette gave him her practiced smile, full of warmth to those who did not know her. "Perhaps people wouldn''t be looting if the Whale of ZhiXia was not imprisoned."


    Aster responded with a hard stare, then pulled out a chair and sat down. "HuaLang Chamber has had a longstanding agreement with the Sharks." He pulled out a flask, ignoring the cup Scarlette had already poured out for him. After sniffing at the cup and the teapot, he emptied both into the flask. "The Sharks do not interfere with HuaLang Chamber so long as you contribute your dues to the city. HuaLang Chamber does not interfere with how the Sharks enforce the peace within ZhiXia City." He sniffed the tea again before taking a sip. "If HuaLang Chamber''s stance has changed, perhaps the Sharks should reconsider this relationship."


    "HuaLang Chamber is not looking to interfere with the peacekeeping of ZhiXia City," said Scarlette. She did not use a friendly tone. "But in light of recent events, your decision to imprison the Whale seems... " she tapped a finger on the rim of her teacup, "questionable."


    "It is precisely because the Whale left ZhiXia City to fend for itself during recent events that I have chosen to undertake drastic measures. You understand that people have died because of his negligence? Over four hundred, by my last report." Aster''s eyes narrowed. "Or has HuaLang Chamber become so accustomed to dealing with death that mere numbers no longer matter?"


    "And the solution is to remove the defending Titled One?" Scarlette raised her brows. "The Sharks have chosen an incomprehensible path for a group that did not even arrive to stop the OutCast."


    "People needed help," Aster responded, stoic. "The Sharks are supposed to prioritize saving lives and aiding in disaster recovery, not engaging with a Titled One."


    "Because you leave that up to the Whale of ZhiXia," Scarlette now ran her finger around the teacup¡¯s rim. "Which is why your current actions fail to make sense."


    "If he had continued to protect ZhiXia City without fault, we wouldn''t need to take our current course of action. As it is, there are deaths to be accounted for, and so the old law has come into effect." Aster sipped again from his flask, then added, "While the decision does not rest with me, it''s become clear that ZhiXia City does not need such an unreliable Titled One; much less one that originated from the Empire of the Sun. It is time for the people to reassess if such a presence is necessary."


    Ting. Scarlette cursed inwardly; she had momentarily loosened the aura collected in her nails at Aster''s words. The teacup''s rim cracked, the ceramic shard flying off to the side.


    Neither of them flinched.


    After a moment, Scarlette spoke quietly. "HuaLang Chamber has no intention of seeing the Whale punished so unjustly."


    Aster did not blink. "I am aware. Don''t think I''m blind to the Flowers running around the City with the Oracle''s vessel ever since last evening, looking to influence the outcome of the vote." He seemed to shrug. "Though, I suppose I would have been disappointed if you hadn''t. It is your prerogative. Only," He leaned forward, his intense gaze meeting Scarlette¡¯s veil, "I believe your efforts are misplaced."


    Though he couldn''t see through her veil, Scarlette felt their eyes meet. "But my patience has its limits. If HuaLang Chamber truly intends to maintain our relationship, then this matter is to be settled by the people''s will. The people will vote, and the people will decide. HuaLang Chamber still abides by the agreement, correct?"


    Scarlette resisted the urge to chew on the inside of her cheek. Aster had clearly thought this through; no matter how much HuaLang Chamber objected, their predecessors'' agreement bound both of them to a certain type of conduct with each other. "HuaLang Chamber will always abide by its agreements."


    "Good." Aster pushed back his seat, adding in a formal monotone, "On behalf of ZhiXia City, the Sharks appreciate HuaLang Chamber''s swift aid to the needy residents. If there is nothing else to discuss, Madam Scarlette, I have important matters to oversee."


    Before Aster could fully stand up, Scarlette interjected, "The Whale of ZhiXia cannot be blamed for your son''s death, Aster. Killing the Whale''s will not bring him back."


    The man paused, then leaned over the table. "This has nothing to do with my son."


    "You''ve disliked the Whale for two decades," Scarlette lifted her head. "Your son''s death cannot be placed on his shoulders just because he was not in the City. He had good reason to be gone ¡ª did you forget how he came back from Teljumaya with the bodies of his two disciples?"


    The man''s face did not flicker, but Scarlette noticed a hand flex as though resisting the desire to clench into a fist. "I do not blame my son''s death on the Whale of ZhiXia."


    "Then I truly don''t understand, Aster. Why?"


    Aster seemed contemplative, then relaxed his hand and sat back down. He poured more tea into the flask. "Are you asking as the Madam of HuaLang Chamber, or as Scarlette?"


    "Is there a difference?"


    Aster paused, then said, "I would like to speak to my Flower sister."


    "I''ve been speaking to my Flower brother this entire time, Aster."


    "Scarlette," Aster acknowledged, sipping again from his flask. "We may have our differences, but we grew up together and I know you well enough to know of your¡­ fondness for the Whale."


    Scarlette took a drink from her own tea, choosing not to respond.


    "We were both trained to remove our personal feelings from our line of work. And so I''m going to tell you honestly: the person I blame for my son''s death is myself." A pause. "My weakness. No ¡ª our collective weakness."


    Scarlette wasn''t certain what to think. "What do you mean?"


    Another pause. Then, "Do you know what my wife said to me?" Aster''s face stayed stoic, but Scarlette saw his gaze softening with memory. "No, of course you wouldn''t, you weren''t there. Rhea asked me: ''Why didn''t you know? Why couldn''t you do anything?''" He leaned towards the table, lowering his voice. "Rhea asked me that, over and over again, repeating it as I begged her to step away from the ledge. And I couldn''t stop her, of course. But you know that part."


    His gaze lowered, as though deep in thought, before flicking back up. "I still hear her question every morning when I visit their placards, Scarlette. Why didn''t I know? Why couldn''t I do anything? A good question ¡ª why didn''t anyone help my boy?"


    "You can''t blame the Whale for being gone when the criminal ¡ª"


    Aster waved her silent. "I won''t repeat myself: I do not blame the Whale. I blame what we have become. A City that relies on the Whale''s protection. People that require his Domain to know that a crime is being committed, so that it can be stopped. A City of people that have grown dependent. Why do you think I''ve expanded the Sharks'' numbers and increased patrols? The people may grumble about the allocation of taxes, but the results speak for themselves. When the Whale was gone during Winter''s Sorrow, we prevented seven individual opportunists and two groups from selling illegal narcotics. And yet it''s not enough ¡ª Sanctuary had two orphans disappear and a fight broke out in the taverns. One man was stabbed to death before the Sharks could arrive because we weren''t informed about it as it was happening. The Sharks themselves have grown dependent on the Whale."


    He took a deep breath, then continued. "Do you know how long it''s been since ZhiXia City has produced a Titled One? Almost two centuries now ¡ª since the Bloody Prince killed the Shark of ZhiXia. And do you know what my Sharks say when I try to get them to master their aura? That it''s pointless when we have the Whale of ZhiXia and Sanctuary. This is what the Whale has reduced us to. Pathetic dependents, relying on someone else for our own safety."


    Despite her misgivings, Scarlette found herself sympathetic towards Aster''s point of view. And yet¡­ "How does imprisoning the Whale at a time like this and putting him in a position where ZhiXia could vote for his death solve any of that?"


    "Were you not listening? The people have decided it is better to rely on others than to improve themselves! With the Whale gone, the circumstances will change ¡ª without his Domain, people must rise to the occasion," Aster responded grimly, then added, "Flangel the Wise once said ''All know the legend, but few remember the nightmare.'' We''ve already been attacked by the Empire, again. Only now, when the pain is fresh in everyone''s minds, will they understand that we cannot rely on the Whale. We must rely on ourselves," he clenched a fist, "to protect our families and friends with our own hands. To know when trouble befalls those around us, so that we can ¡ª"


    "Neither of us have learned to achieve a Domain, Aster." Scarlette laid a hand on Aster''s arm, hoping a soft touch would soften the maddened gleam in his eyes. "And we are among the most powerful auramancers in ZhiXia. Do you think I haven''t tried to overcome that impossible chasm? We lack the talent!"


    "I don''t expect either of us to do it, but someone must!" Aster pulled his arm away, rejecting her touch. "There''s thousands of talents in our City, they just lack motivation! How can you not see this?" He placed his palms flat on the table, leaning in again. "When you received the veil, Madam Ixia reminded you to look for what you cannot see, and this is it! We''ve been so well-protected we''ve lost the desire to better ourselves! Indulging peace has softened our fists and dulled our blades! The Empire''s attack has only proven how unprepared we are! The Whale''s mere existence as our defending Titled One enables our continued ineptitude!"


    "So you do blame the Whale."


    "Not for my son''s death," Aster sat back in his chair. "And as the current leader of the Sharks, I am obligated by the law to arrest the Whale for neglecting his agreed-upon duty. Putting my personal matters aside, this isn''t just a single child''s life anymore." He folded his arms, "The City and its people lost too much this time. Homes, families, friends. My position makes me answer to the residents of ZhiXia. There is nothing to negotiate."


    "Even if I entertained this madness," Scarlette pressed her lips together at the thought, then continued, "What happens if you''re wrong? What happens if we lose the Whale and none of our talents rise to his level? Did you forget that the Whale of ZhiXia''s reputation alone brought ZhiXia so many generations of peace? The Empire did not attack ZhiXia for over eight decades!"


    "We will," Aster seemed firm. "In fact, the Sharks recently recruited two of the combatants from the Martial Arena. Like you, I''m also looking out for talent, and the young man who fought the opening fight seems quite promising."


    "You gamble with ZhiXia''s protection instead of simply galvanizing the people?"


    "But I have! People are indolent by nature," Aster grimaced. "I hate to say it, but there is wisdom in what the alchemists say: that which is at rest, remains at rest¡­ unless acted upon by a large enough force. What spurs humans into action faster than collective pain? Isn''t that why HuaLang Chamber receives orphans of the Empire''s war?"


    Seeing that Aster could not be dissuaded, Scarlette changed her tone. "HuaLang Chamber will not interfere with how the Sharks enforce peace within ZhiXia City," she said icily, "but that only applies to what the Sharks do. When it comes to the popular vote, we are allowed to participate as residents ourselves."


    "As you should. And yet, I feel you allow your feelings on the matter to cloud your thoughts, Madam Scarlette." The leader of the Sharks pushed back his seat, placing down some coin, more than enough to pay for both of them. Perhaps he intended to pay for the chipped cup as well. "I will allow you to see him if you wish to tell him your feelings before the trial, but that''s as much rule-bending as I can allow."


    He turned to leave, waving a hand without looking back. "It was good to share tea with you, Scarlette."


    Scarlette sat there for several moments, pondering the color of her tea. Then, a light voice whispered somewhere else, a building and three floors away, so soft that only someone like Scarlette could hear. "Madam Scarlette, Captain Aster has left. He''s heading back to oversee Second Street''s repairs."


    Scarlette tapped the rim of her chipped teacup ¡ª gently this time ¡ª deep in thought. "Set Flora, Leilani, and Cassia out to look for looters tonight. They are free to use their skills however they see fit, but ensure the results are visible to potential miscreants. Then double the amount of food we provide to the needy."


    "Madam, the Roots and Leaves in the kitchens will be overwhelmed if we increase production to this extent."


    "It just needs to be healthy and filling. No need to plate it; we''re feeding people, not entertaining guests. Egg fried rice with some vegetables should do enough to cook for quantity. Anyone who wants a bowl should be fed, regardless of how well dressed they are."


    "Understood. Is there anything else?"


    "Summon Primrose to the Chamber, and make sure she brings Molam."


    <hr>


    HuaLang Chamber


    Scarlette looked up to Primrose walking into her study. "I hope there''s a good reason I heard only one set of footsteps."


    "I tried my best, but Molam is heading to Sanctuary after hearing about your meeting with Aster," Primrose grimaced, closing the door behind her. "Molam also wanted me to tell you that due to a bad experience being invited to HuaLang Chamber, he will come when he is ready."


    "I see he can still find levity when the vote is tomorrow. Is he always so relaxed?" Scarlette didn''t wait for a response. "And why Sanctuary? The Priestesses cannot vote. How does going to Sanctuary do anything to influence the vote?"


    "About that¡­" Primrose turned slowly. Scarlette could hear the note of trepidation; Primrose could hide her feelings very well, but her voice always became more high-pitched when she needed to talk about delicate topics. "Molam thinks there isn''t enough time to change public sentiment enough to sway the result. He said we can continue the efforts in that regard on our own, but he wanted to explore other¡­ possibilities."

 Ch 61: A Change of Perspective

    Be grounded with your thoughts, but curious with where the ground truly is.


    ¡ª Excerpt from the journal of Flangel the Wise


    <hr>


    Sanctuary, orphanage


    Muted chaos greeted Molam as soon as he walked into Sanctuary''s orphanage. Four frazzled Priestesses oversaw more than three dozen children, loosely separated by their age groups. Priestess Komura and Priestess Shantayla stood to the side with three children, two boys and a girl. The younger Priestess was kneeling with one of the boys, who was crying, while the other two wore glum faces as Priestess Komura gave them a lecture.


    Molam looked over the place, guessing that some four or five of the children were new, judging by the way they lingered by themselves.


    "Are you here to play?"


    Molam looked down, seeing a young boy hold a ball up to him. Short black hair, with a missing front tooth. The boy couldn''t have seen more than ten Sorrows.


    "No," Molam replied, kneeling down so their eyes were at the same height. "I don''t have time to play, unfortunately. I''m waiting for Priestess Komura and Priestess Shantayla."


    "Oh. They aren''t fun. I''m going to go find someone who will play." The boy sauntered off, then kicked the ball and ran after it. Molam tried to smile encouragingly as he watched three other children congregate around the ball, which swiftly turned into taking turns kicking it into the wall. A Priestess descended upon them in mere moments, impressing upon them the difficulty of cleaning the wall. Molam smiled at the antics, then a feeling of guilt rose up his chest and he tasted a hint of bile; he looked away.


    They''re here because of my mistakes, the thought leapt unbidden into his mind. He attempted to dismiss it, but could not refute the thought. Molam stood up and leaned against a wall, staring at the stone without seeing it. He grimaced, feeling the list of names he kept weighing down in his pocket. Of course he had to think of the reason why they were here. How else had they lost their parents? Was it not because he had caused the OutCast to summon a Titled echo?


    His decisions had left others with the consequences. He was the one at fault ¡ª the OutCast had made it very clear she hadn''t wanted to escalate the situation further. All Molam needed to do was offer up his life and the past few days could have all been avoided. These young lives could have been unchanged.


    What had been the point? The Empire had obtained Flangel''s Ring in the end, which only delayed their obtaining the SunFlower. The sensation of bile burned, and Molam swallowed saliva, trying to soothe it. The acrid taste subsided, leaving him only with the lingering aftertaste of failure.


    Yes, that was the word.


    Failure.


    The word echoed in his thoughts as Molam tried to accept that he was the one standing here. One name instead of the four hundred that made up the list in his pocket. Did the same feeling of failure burn in the Whale of ZhiXia''s chest when his Domain accounted for all the lost lives? Was this why Master Ji intended to face the vote? Should Molam do the same? Was he the one in the wrong, and should he submit himself to a public trial as well? What would the Oracle think? On the other hand, would her opinion matter? He was free, which meant he was free to choose his own method of atonement, no? But then ¡ª


    A hand smacked his back, disrupting his thoughts. Bony fingers gripped his ear, pulling him around to face Priestess Komura''s disapproving face.


    "I taught you to stand straight, Molam. Or are you going to let an old woman like me show you what a spine is for?"


    Eyes watering at the pain in his ear, Molam saw Priestess Shantayla standing a pace behind the elderly Priestess, covering her mouth with a hand at Priestess Komura''s rough treatment of him. The two Priestesses must have been working hard the past few days ¡ª Molam noticed dark smudges on their usually pristine white robes, evidence that they hadn''t found the time to maintain the proper appearance of a Priestess. He relaxed his hands and shoulders, holding up his open palms in a sign of defeat, only for Priestess Komura to yank his earlobe down even further, threatening to tear it off.


    "Is it right for a man in your position to give up so easily? Is that how you set an example for the Dao?"


    "I wouldn''t be setting a good example for the children if they saw me responding to an elderly woman with force," Molam tried to grin through blurry eyes; the aging Priestess did not go gently on his ear.


    "Hmm. A passing excuse, but not a convincing one," Priestess Komura did not release him. "And what would you do if I refused to release you?"


    Molam gripped her wrist despite himself, such was the pain in his earlobe. "I don''t want to set a poor example, Priestess Komura."


    "Again ¡ª if I refuse?"


    The pain was becoming too much to bear, and Molam''s grip tightened over her wrist. He could wrench her hand away, or dig his nails into the area between her tendons. "I don''t want to hurt you, Priestess Komura. Please don''t."


    "So indecisive when not sitting in front of a chess board," the Priestess sounded almost disappointed when she let go. "Priestess Shantayla here says you were drowning in your emotions, and I can guess why. I heard about everything, and now you believe it''s your fault."


    Molam said nothing, standing straight again and rubbing at his sore ear, which itched and healed. Priestess Shantayla''s nose twitched, then she looked at him and gave a timid but knowing smile.


    "If you''re not going to respond, then I''m going to be direct." A finger jabbed at Molam''s chest. "Sometimes, we''re forced to choose and we do the best we can. Do you understand, Molam? Look at me when I''m talking to you." Molam winced at the tone, meeting Priestess Komura''s gaze. She continued, "Don''t blame yourself when you didn''t intend for any of this to happen."


    "I thought you were the one who told me we judge ourselves by intentions, others by results. Regardless of intent, it happened because of me. Shouldn''t I¡­" he swallowed, then continued, "Shouldn''t I be judging myself by the results of my failure?"


    "And now you are thinking something silly? Perhaps thinking it would be better if you had offered the OutCast your head?" The Priestess flicked his forehead. "Do you think appeasement would work? You play such splendid dragon chess, you tell me if that strategy would be effective."


    A moment later, "No," he sighed, now rubbing his forehead, then added, "It would probably be worse in the long run. The Oracle could pick another vessel, but the reason she gave me her color in the first place was because I¡ª"


    A finger on his nose and a curt shake of the head silenced him from continuing. Her gaze softened, then the Priestess pulled Molam close, enveloping him in a strong hug, belying her image of an older woman. "Don''t lose yourself, Molam. You''re still young, so let me tell you: sometimes there are no right choices. Reality isn''t the same as the stories, do you understand?" A hand pressed against the back of Molam''s head. "If I had refused to let go of your ear, you would have been forced to respond with force. Your experience with the OutCast''s actions are no different. You did the best you could do."


    "Even if it makes me a hypocrite?" His eyes watered with a different pain as he attempted to return the hug with one hand, his other scrunching up the list in his pocket. Four hundred names, but it was more than that. Several children ran around in the orphanage, a reminder of what the names had left behind. "How do I live with the burden of knowing what my life cost?"


    Priestess Komura gave him an understanding look, then stepped to the side and beckoned towards Priestess Shantayla. "Well?"


    The younger Priestess looked at her mentor with wide, surprised eyes, then shook her head. Priestess Komura sighed, "Just speak to Molam as you would a child."


    "This was my twenty-sixth Sorrow, you know."


    "Yes, and I taught you how to use chopsticks properly, when you were almost a man," Priestess Komura responded, then pulled Priestess Shantayla closer. "The child here has survivor''s guilt. Any suggestions, Priestess Shantayla?"


    The younger Priestess fidgeted with her hands while looking at her feet. "I¡­ think¡­ um¡­" She murmured something long and unintelligible.


    Molam looked at Priestess Komura with a raised eyebrow.


    The Priestess sighed, then patted Priestess Shantayla on the shoulder. "Go find Nettie. Molam came here to speak to her in the first place."


    They watched her hurry away with a look of relief before Priestess Komura spoke up. "My mentee says you need to forgive yourself and accept that it happened. If you toss away your life because you don''t believe your survival is deserved, then they truly would have died for nothing. Understand?"


    A ball rolled near them, and Molam nudged it back towards the children who came after it. "I think so. I''ll need some time to think about this." He paused. "Is that what it''s called? Survivor''s guilt?"


    "Yes."


    Silence fell between them as they watched the children kicking the ball. Then Molam said, "Jiovanny''s dead."


    "I know," Priestess Komura rolled the ball back towards the children when it came towards them this time. "I identified him. He shielded several others with his body when the buildings came down."


    Of course he would, thought Molam. That was how he remembered the man. "His shop¡­?"


    "Will be passed on to his apprentice. A young man named Larik. Jiovanny was proud of him."


    Molam saw Priestess Shantayla coming back towards them, holding hands with a bleary-eyed Nettie. "I suppose I''ll need to take time to understand these thoughts. For now, I''ll need to deal with the matters at hand."


    "As you should," Priestess Komura nodded, then added in a stern tone, "But don''t get lost in your thoughts again, do you hear?" She frowned, brushing at his unkempt hair. "I tire of burying my children, Molam. God Yven gets more time with them than I do."


    <hr>


    "Nettie was enjoying a nap," the little girl complained before covering her mouth as she yawned. "Is there juice?"


    Molam looked at Priestess Shantayla, who nodded and walked off, presumably for juice. Priestess Komura had gone back to help the other Priestesses, leaving Priestess Shantayla to accompany Molam and Nettie to a relatively private corner. He squatted on a wooden stool clearly made for children, hunkering over a short table, while Nettie sat properly opposite him.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.


    "I was hoping you could look at these runes, Nettie." Molam spread out the four runes copied from the book. "Could you explain what they are for, and how they would work together?"


    "Juice first?"


    "Priestess Shantayla is coming with the juice," Molam promised. He hoped he was right.


    "Hmm," Nettie pondered his words, and Molam wondered if the young Titled One could use either the Sight or something similar to differentiate lies. She then pulled the drawings close, tapping a finger on the runes as she inspected them. "This collects aura, but only one type. It will ignore any aura it has seen before. This one counts the aura types. And these," she frowned, looking at Molam''s copies, "are drawn poorly. Nettie thinks this one is for synchronizing the first symbol across multiple places. And this other one is¡­" she squinted, "Nettie thinks it is either for buttering bread or showing a number count for display on a mirror. It could be either."


    Molam grimaced at the child''s less-than-impressed review of his drawings. "Put together, can they be used for counting a vote by the people?"


    "Yes," Nettie confirmed, then looked up expectantly as Priestess Shantayla returned with cups in hand. "Juice!"


    So it was true. Molam reviewed the runes as the Priestess handed out the cups. Sipping from his cup ¡ª apple juice, tart and sweet ¡ª he contemplated the possibilities and discarded them one by one. Time was the biggest problem here. Whatever he could come up with would be limited by the amount of time he had to work with. Resources, knowledge, and means.


    Priestess Shantayla sat down to his right, nursing her own cup. The Priestess had opted to cross her ankles slightly so that her knees were not jutting above the table, and Molam copied her.


    "Thank you for the drinks," Molam said. "Don''t you need to help Priestess Komura with the children?"


    The Priestess shook her head, then murmured something. Molam still could not hear, so he leaned closer, only for the Priestess to lean away.


    "I''m sorry," he apologized, shifting back. "But I couldn''t hear what you said."


    The Priestess'' cheeks puffed out ever so slightly, a sign of frustration. Then she met Molam''s gaze and leaned closer. "I can see Priestess Komura from here. She said¡­ to offer you my ear."


    "Nettie is here too," the girl burbled with a smile. "Being confined to Sanctuary makes Nettie bored. Nettie knows! Nettie can teach you runecarving!" She tapped the runes he drew. "Nettie can teach you to not draw like this."


    "Both of you are too kind," Molam replied, "but I am dealing with a problem that seems hard to solve." He hesitated, then looked at Nettie, "It has to do with Master Ji''s life."


    The Titled One sat up straight, her gaze focused. "Explain to Nettie."


    A soft hand gripped Molam''s wrist and he looked to see Priestess Shantayla''s worried gaze. Molam understood her reservations, but tomorrow¡¯s vote weighed on his mind. "Nettie isn''t just any child, and I needed to ask her several possibilities regardless," he told Priestess Shantayla. "We are out of time. I would like both of you to listen."


    The Priestess''s lips pressed together, then she nodded. She let go of his wrist.


    Molam kept his explanation for Nettie brief: as a result of his and the Whale of ZhiXia''s decisions to prioritize saving her, the OutCast had been free to rampage throughout ZhiXia City in the Whale''s absence. With so many dead and widespread destruction in the aftermath, ZhiXia City will put Master Ji to trial by public vote at noon tomorrow with his life on the line if the public delivers a guilty verdict.


    "Which brings me here," Molam tapped the copied text and runes. "I am looking into everything possible, digging for anything that can be used to sway the results. I considered¡ª"


    "Nettie will not help you cheat," the girl said flatly.


    Molam paused. "That''s not what I came to ask for, but I''m curious about your reasoning."


    "Because Nettie thinks everyone should get an equal say." Nettie looked at the runes again, then added, "And Master Ji would not like that we cheated."


    Molam nodded. "That was my reasoning too. We could never hide this from him and Master Ji seems to be¡­ a bit stubborn." More than ''a bit,'' but Molam kept that to himself. Their disagreement had lingered in his mind.


    Priestess Shantayla spoke up hesitantly. "Then why¡­" ¡ª Molam was almost tempted to finish her sentence, but refrained ¡ª "not be¡­ changing people''s minds?"


    Molam waited to make sure she was finished, but Nettie butted in. "Nettie thinks Molam is here because he thinks it can''t be done?"


    He grimaced when Priestess Shantayla looked down and fidgeted with her hands, but nodded at Nettie. "Yes," he confirmed. "Primrose and I have gathered some information. The public sentiment is¡­ not good. Many lost their homes or need to salvage their livelihoods. And there were several hundred deaths." Four hundred and twenty-seven names on his list, to be exact. He decided to be more direct. "Public opinion cannot be swayed in this little amount of time because the wounds are too fresh."


    Nettie frowned, "Nettie finds it illogical to blame Master Ji because he was not here. He did not destroy their houses or kill anyone."


    "That''s a normal thought," Molam agreed, then added, "But you''ll do best to understand that people always make decisions based on emotions first, and¡ª"


    "Justify it later with logic," Nettie finished for him. "GrandFather always said that."


    Molam paused, looking at the tiny girl sitting across from him with a cup of juice in hand. It was jarring, trying to equate the way she looked with the sharp mind within. "He was very wise."


    Nettie looked at Priestess Shantayla, then gave a toothy grin. "May Nettie have more juice?"


    The Priestess smiled at the girl, then looked towards Molam''s cup meaningfully.


    "Thank you," Molam replied, pushing his cup towards her. "But if there''s hot floral tea, I''d like a mixture of that with some juice instead." The Priestess nodded.


    Nettie leaned the side of her head on the table and looked up at Molam from the corners of her eyes with a look of concern.


    "What?" he asked.


    "Juice is juice," the girl raised an eyebrow.


    "Try mixing flavors up from time to time," Molam replied. "You never know what new flavors you might find."


    "Hmmm," Nettie pondered, "Maybe." She sat up straight again, then asked, "Nettie would like to know what else Molam has considered."


    Molam pressed his lips together. There was that other idea, but¡­ "Well¡­"


    "Nettie would like to know the one you want to avoid telling Nettie." The girl leaned forward in her seat. "The one that Molam was considering just now."


    Molam raised an eyebrow. It wasn''t so much the sharp mind that caught him off guard anymore, but the sheer abruptness of the reminder of who currently sat in front of him. The Prodigy.


    "I''ll tell you, but let''s wait so Priestess Shantayla can also agree this should not be done." He paused, then added, "And so we''ll have juice."


    "Juice!"


    Priestess Shantayla came back with their drinks.


    "We waited for you," Molam told her while she sat down. Unfortunately for Molam, there was no tea.


    "And for the juice," Nettie added, sipping happily. There was no trace of the sharpness from before in her round cheeks. "Nettie thanks you."


    "You''re welcome," the Priestess replied, sitting back down on her seat and half-crossing her legs again. "There''s an extra cup of juice. I am ready."


    The two sets of eyes settled on Molam again, and he exhaled. "This actually¡­ was the most likely one to work. I just don''t think we should do it."


    "What is it?" asked Priestess Shantayla.


    "The idea was: what if we could do something¡­ drastic?" Molam muttered under his breath. "Remind people of how much Master Ji does to protect them. Remind them instantly of what they risk by not having him."


    The Priestess seemed confused, but Nettie frowned. "How?"


    Molam looked up from his cup, meeting first the Priestess, then Nettie''s eyes. "We could create a situation where Master Ji would need to act to save people. Such as using the Sage''s Mirror again."


    Nettie''s frown deepened and she puffed out her cheeks. "Nettie understands, but Nettie thinks that is a bad idea."


    The Priestess'' look went from confusion to understanding, to open-mouthed realization. "You would summon another Titled Echo?" she asked. Perhaps because of her surprise, there was none of her usual hesitancy in her voice.


    Molam held up his hands. "I said we shouldn''t do it. The cost would be too high, and the echo cannot be controlled. But¡­ the results would be the most guaranteed. We could ask GloomSire, or even Nettie yourself to try the Mirror." Or maybe Mursa Shang, thought Molam. But enlisting the mursashu sounded too expensive. "The Mirror summons an equal opponent, which shouldn''t pose a problem to the Whale of ZhiXia. If it goes well and Master Ji steps in, well, ¡ª the situation is solved. The people he saves will realistically forget their prior thoughts and go into the voting with a changed perspective."


    "No." The Priestess''s fingers tightened around her cup.


    "No," Molam agreed. "This was only me trying to think of all the possible angles, starting with the one most likely to succeed. And because someone," he winked at Nettie, "very much wanted to hear it. But we should not do it." Molam did not want to write more names on his list.


    "Nettie completely agrees. But is that all we have?" asked Nettie, pressing the side of her cheek onto the desk again, stretching out her arms. "No other options?"


    "We''re too limited on time," Molam pushed the extra cup of juice into Nettie''s reaching fingers ¡ª the girl grabbed it and smiled at him. "The vote is tomorrow at noon. If there were at least two ¡ª no, just one week, I could have pursued other options. But I hear the leader of the Sharks considers Master Ji a hindrance to ZhiXia''s growth, and the vice-leader is quite stubborn about enforcing the law." He sighed. "And the timing couldn''t be worse. The people have suffered painful losses and are looking for someone to blame," he added, pinching the bridge of his nose ¡ª Molam had found himself doing that quite often lately, and he wasn''t sure when he had picked up the habit. "Even Master Ji himself is¡­" probably feeling the way I do, "submitting himself to their judgment."


    Priestess Shantayla sipped at her juice. "This sounds¡­ impossible. Can the vote not be delayed?"


    "The call to convene has already happened, and it''s not under my control," Molam shook his head. "I assume Sanctuary can''t interfere either, per the Oracle''s command?"


    The Priestess nodded silently. Molam sighed.


    "Hence why I''m feeling¡­ out of options," Molam leaned back on his stool, almost tipped over, then sat back up. "But everything I can think of that doesn''t take unnecessary risks requires time. And we don''t have time."


    "Poopy," Nettie commiserated with him, "So tomorrow¡­ Master Ji is either free or dead?"


    "It sounds like it," Priestess Shantayla¡¯s hands fidgeted again. "And the vote¡­ seems to swing one way already."


    "Poopy," the girl repeated, turning her head so only her nose touched the table. A moment of silence later, she began paddling the table with both hands, a steady rhythm. "Nettie hates problems that only have extreme results. They have to decide tomorrow?"


    "Unfortunately, yes."


    "This seems impossible." Priestess Shantayla looked glum.


    Molam opened his mouth to agree, then fell silent as he saw most of the children gather around a Priestess. The Priestess asked them a question, then several raised their hands and began jumping in place. The Priestess dismissed the hands with a smile, then asked another question and a different set of children raised their hands. The Priestess counted, then crouched and spoke to a child whose hand had remained down for both questions, presumably asking why they hadn¡¯t chosen an option.


    What if¡­? Molam scanned his notes. "Sanctuary and HuaLang Chamber can''t impede the voting process," he murmured, reiterating what he knew. "And we can''t cheat the process itself. The Sharks want to enforce the law and remove Master Ji''s influence from ZhiXia City. And finally, we need Master Ji to accept that the result reflects the people''s will. The ideal solution would satisfy all of these conditions before tomorrow''s vote."


    "There''s one last thing we can try," Molam stood up, grimacing at the way his knees popped. Too much sitting in a seat meant for children. "I''ll need the Oracle''s permission first."


    <hr>


    Ruined Martial Arena, ZhiXia City


    Shurra flinched when all the cats hissed and the dogs growled in unison. Tails puffed, lips pulled back to expose teeth, and ears flattened ¡ª a collective, synchronized animosity that set Shurra on edge. She looked towards Master Yao-ren and was surprised to see his face wearing a look of pure fury, a drastic change from the earlier relaxed expression he¡¯d had when stroking the bushy tomcat on his lap.


    "Is everything all right?" Shurra asked in a low voice, so as to not startle the animals even further.


    "No," Master Yao-ren responded, then set the tomcat down delicately. The low hooting of an owl echoed throughout the evening. "Yes, I know," he said to no one in particular, then uncrossed his legs and stood up, looking to the east. The animals looked with him, completely distracted from the food that Shurra had set out for them.


    "Master Yao-ren?"


    "We have your alchemist and are taking him to Sanctuary, but my bond is being attacked," the Titled One informed her. He turned to the animals and blew lightly towards them. One by one, they relaxed and went back to their feeding. Another hoot from off in the distance, but more urgent. "I''m going. Tell Molam ¡ª he needs to know this."


    "You''re being attacked? By whom?" A dog licked Shurra''s hand, and she looked down to pat its head. By the time Shurra looked back towards her teacher, the Titled One was nowhere to be seen.

 Ch 62: Stand

    While most Titled Ones have their names recorded somewhere, there are several unknowns. Two of the Companions, for one ¡ª the Hero and the Wanderer, whose real names either do not appear in any record or have been redacted.


    And then the Oracle and her sister, the Submerged Leviathan. The two are some of the few people alive who are old enough to remember the Eternal Night. Despite this venerable history, they have rarely made an appearance in our history under the Sun, and much about them remains shrouded in mystery.


    How did they come about their role as Oracle and Sanctuary''s defender?


    Where did they come from?


    With the Red Emperor dead, the only ones who know may be themselves, and they are rarely in a divulging mood.


    Their birth names, if they even have them, have never been found.


    ¡ª Excerpt from Titled Ones, by Scholar Gibryl of the Fallen Star Pavilion


    <hr>


    City Center, Day of the Whale of ZhiXia''s Trial


    "Everything is ready, then?" Aster glanced at the paper Khalim handed him, his eyes running down the checklist of items the Sharks needed to oversee before the vote: the trial grounds, the podium, and the voting booths. "No interference from either Sanctuary or HuaLang Chamber?"


    "Yes," the vice-leader answered smoothly. "We''ll be able to proceed as planned."


    "I''m surprised. I was quite certain they would try something. The Oracle can''t be predicted, but Scarlette didn''t even come to see the Whale of ZhiXia." Aster paused, then continued down the hall. "She''s up to something, but I suppose we''ll just have to deal with it when it comes to light."


    They entered the main room, where twenty of their group were waiting. Most of the rest were at the trial grounds, no doubt still preparing for the trial. Aster walked among those present, greeting each one by name and commending them for their efforts. Their newest recruit, a young man named Bryce, nodded just a bit reservedly, but Aster did not mind. He had high hopes for that one, having seen his opening match during the Festival.


    Aster walked in front of the Sharks, seeing them stand at attention. The sight made him proud. Though the Whale of ZhiXia was synonymous with the peace of ZhiXia City, it was their combined discipline and efforts that had truly mattered during the past few days. The people he had trained, in whom he had instilled a sense of duty. ZhiXia was their city, and it made no sense to rely on the goodwill of any single person.


    Khalim stood off to the side, but Aster waited several moments, ensuring all eyes were on him before he began.


    "I know some of you have misgivings about today''s events," he addressed the biggest problem first. "And I am not unaware of them. We find ourselves at a crossroads, faced with a challenge that requires we rise above our personal sentiments and uphold the responsibility entrusted to us. Being part of the Sharks has always meant respecting the Title of the one who kept ZhiXia City safe for many centuries before his mantle fell to the Whale of ZhiXia. And today, we are bound by our duty to enforce the law, even when it might be uncomfortable for us as individuals."


    "Know that I share your hesitation as well, and I don''t take it for granted that each of you are here despite it all. Though we serve as a whole, we also harbor our own personal beliefs and values. Some of you have lost loved ones. Others have experienced his kindness." His eyes met each of theirs in turn, as though he could channel his will through their connected gaze. "I only want to remind you of this: our job is not to determine what is right or wrong, only to enforce the law that has been passed down for so many generations."


    Aster raised his voice. "If you''re feeling unsure, that''s understandable! If you''re having second thoughts, then that proves you are still thinking with your mind, not your heart. We may not always agree with the laws, but it is not our role to pick and choose which ones to enforce. Our duty is to serve, protect, and administer justice impartially."


    Seeing some of the members nod, Aster continued, "Today, I ask each of you to set aside personal biases and focus on the duty that we have sworn to uphold. I do not begrudge any of you for having a good relationship with or memories of the Whale of ZhiXia, but I ask that you do not allow your own biases to impede the right of each resident to cast their vote. We are the guardians of this City, and our commitment to justice must transcend our individual perspectives. It''s not an easy task, but it''s a noble one."


    "If some of you do not think you can separate personal matters from public duty, I ask that you step forward now. I will neither shame nor berate you ¡ª in fact, it is important for us to acknowledge when we cannot divest our thoughts from our tasks. Commendable, even. You have a moment to decide."


    He clasped his hands behind his back as he waited. No one stepped forward, and all met his gaze. After he felt he had given them sufficient time, he nodded. "Good. And I won''t question it if you have a change of heart later; simply let another Shark know and I''ll be informed. Are there any questions?"


    "No, sir!" they shouted in unison.


    "Tessa, Kat, Yong-he, and Leah," he barked, and the four named took a step forward. "The four of you are responsible for escorting our charge to the trial grounds." He tossed a set of keys to Tessa. "I don''t expect interference, but Tessa is in charge in case any matters arise."


    "Understood!" the four acknowledged.


    Aster turned to the rest. "Now, we will need to secure the trial grounds and make certain the voting booths are working as expected. You have all been assigned your tasks ¡ª dismissed."


    Aster and Khalim watched as the members filed out of the room, then followed.


    "Do you anticipate any problems?" he asked Khalim as they walked down the hall.


    "Very little that can come to mind," the vice leader replied. "Sanctuary has acknowledged ZhiXia City''s independence in these matters. And I understand you''ve spoken to the Madam of HuaLang Chamber. There are some of the leftover Festival celebrants, a caravan of mursashu, and early worshippers on a pilgrimage, but there shouldn''t be enough to matter. They won''t be allowed to vote regardless, considering they aren''t residents."


    "We''ll make a public reminder before the event starts," Aster said. "Detain anyone who proves to be a public nuisance until the results are in."


    "Then there''s only the matter of the execution of a guilty verdict," Khalim spoke delicately. "In the event the residents vote him guilty, the Whale of ZhiXia is to execute himself via suicide."


    "Yes?"


    "Well," Khalim hesitated uncharacteristically. "It''s one thing to be sentenced to death. It''s another to carry it out yourself. What do we do if he refuses or changes his mind? All of our jade has been used to bind him, but it''s nowhere near enough to restrict his aura. The Whale of ZhiXia could still drown ZhiXia City if he wanted to, and none of us could stop him."


    "He won''t," Aster declared as they pushed past the front doors of the City Center into the City Square. "Where would he go after? The Empire? No Free City would take him, not if he displays such a wanton disregard for what has been agreed upon. No, he would be ¡ª" He fell silent, staring around at the Square. "Why is it so empty?"


    The Square had been set up for the trial ¡ª a raised platform, a podium, and several voting booths set out, according to the proper procedures. Members of the Sharks were busying themselves raising two poles on the platform. Several tens of residents milled around, but Aster did not see the crowd he had grown accustomed to over the past few days.


    "That''s strange," Khalim also frowned, "The trial and voting are at noon. That''s," he squinted up at the Sun, then muttered, "in roughly one and a half hours."


    "The people should have begun gathering by now," Aster stepped down the stairs to approach the platform, beckoning towards one of his Sharks. "Tala, did people gather here earlier?"


    The short, stocky woman shook her head. "No, Captain. I''ve been here overseeing setting up the platform since dawn, and these are the people that have shown up. Some may have wandered off for food, but not many."


    "Then where¡­?"


    "Captain Aster!"


    Aster looked for the source of the shouting, frowning at the man who had just rounded a corner into the Square. "Galen?"


    Galen wheezed as he approached, then held up a hand as he tried to catch his breath. Considering he was normally physically capable, the tall man must have run from his patrol at breakneck speed. After several huffs, Galen straightened himself. "Sanctuary just announced they are hosting public funeral rites. The Oracle herself will be conducting them at noon."


    Aster frowned as some of the gathered Sharks began whispering. The Oracle was said to never leave the Inner Sanctum, and had certainly never made a public appearance during their lifetimes. "Are you certain?"Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.


    "The Priestesses themselves are walking about the streets, announcing the general invitation to the public," Galen replied. "As I ran here, I saw many of the residents were already heading that direction."


    "I see." Aster clenched a fist. The Priestesses wouldn''t lie about something like this. Did that mean the Oracle had truly chosen to make an appearance now? A general invitation too; that meant even the residents of ZhiXia City would be tempted to go. Too many had lived their entire lives without ever seeing the elusive Titled One. "I see," he repeated to himself. At noon ¡ª right when the vote was supposed to happen. The timing was too precise to be coincidental.


    "Should we go help enforce the lines for Sanctuary?" asked Galen.


    "Sanctuary would have asked us for help if they needed it," Aster shook his head. Scarlette''s move? No, HuaLang Chamber might have some weight with Sanctuary''s Priestesses, but it would take too long for a Priestess to bring this to the Oracle''s attention. It had to be someone with direct access to the Oracle. "We''re going to continue as planned and secure the trial grounds before the accused is brought out. Return to your patrol, Galen. Everyone else," he raised his voice again, "Keep an eye out for any interference ¡ª I repeat, our duty hasn''t changed! Ensure all residents can make their voices heard with their votes. To your designated stations!"


    The rest of the Sharks saluted and ran to their duties. Aster nodded approvingly before he turned to Khalim. "Can we extend the time of the vote?"


    The man shook his head. "The time has been set. No one can request a time change unless extraordinary circumstances happen."


    "Even if some people may miss it?"


    Khalim frowned. "The entire purpose of the announcement three days ago was to let people know the time of the vote. If people don''t come, we assume they forfeit their right to vote. You were the one who mandated for the lowest amount of time allowed for voting in order to let residents get back to their day. We can''t break the rules we set."


    "Is this not considered interference from Sanctuary?"


    "No?" Khalim''s frown deepened. "How can it be? Sanctuary''s choice has no bearing on what we¡¯re doing. The people are making their own choice about where to go and what to do."


    Aster fell silent, observing his people double-checking the four voting booths. The journeyman alchemists they had hired were making the final verifications on the carved runes on the stones, signing off on a wooden plate before they moved to the next one. A cluster of movement out of the corner of his eye caused him to turn, only to see Madam Scarlette entering the Square with what looked like half of HuaLang Chamber in tow. She smiled at him from behind a light blue veil and waved; Aster had known her long enough to recognize a genuine smile when he saw it.


    "I see."


    Of course. HuaLang Chamber were residents as well.


    <hr>


    Sanctuary


    "To be perfectly honest, this is working better than I thought," Primrose murmured. "Madam Scarlette was downright murderous yesterday when she thought you had given up on the Whale. But I''m impressed you thought of something like this; it ensures that those who are most likely to be emotionally affected by the deaths are here paying their respects instead of going to the Square to vote."


    "We don''t know the results of the vote yet," Molam replied. "Don''t celebrate too early."


    The two of them stood in front of Sanctuary, watching as the Priestesses organized the flocking mourners into lines. Residents had begun lining up as soon as the invitation was sent out, and Molam was quite surprised at how well it had all gone.


    "And? What else is there to worry about?"


    "Those who do show up will still vote based on how they feel." Master Ji''s words echoed in Molam''s thoughts, and he amended, "I don''t blame the people for how they feel. I also understand why it''s important for a direct voting system. I just¡­ I don''t know."


    "I think I understand," Primrose watched the crowd with him. "''When there''s three, one''s bound to disagree.''"


    Molam smiled at her quote. "Flangel the Wise."


    "Yes. And remember when Shurra disagreed with you during our encounter with the OutCast? It happens."


    "We voted then, though," Molam frowned. "In a way, all of you sided with my judgment."


    "Shurra wasn''t wrong though, was she? The OutCast could have been killed. You simply judged the cost to be too high. And if she had gone off on her own because she believed she was right?"


    "She would have died. Against the OutCast, we needed to work as a group. There was no other option if we wanted to survive."


    "And then the Armed Swordsman died instead."


    Molam paused. "Yes," he replied, his mind on the slip of paper in his pocket. "Martyker did. And many more."


    Just yesterday, he had explained his plan to both Nettie and Priestess Shantayla. When the two of them found no fault with the idea of letting the people choose for themselves which event they would rather participate in, he had asked Priestess Komura to confirm if it was possible. The Priestess thought it was, but pointed out that merely holding public funeral rites would only get the close friends and families of the dead to attend.


    And so Molam had appealed to the one who could make it an event everyone wanted to attend.


    "I still can''t believe the Oracle agreed to a public appearance," Primrose muttered. "Her last one was supposed to be when she met with the Red Emperor, almost four centuries ago."


    "Was it? I didn''t know that."


    "I heard some of the residents talking about it." Primrose stuck out her tongue.


    "Ah."


    "It''s almost noon," Primrose noted. "Are you sure you can''t come to the Square?"


    Molam shook his head. "The Oracle had some stipulations for my¡­ unique request. Despite the fact that I think she wants Master Ji to live just as much as we do." He fell silent, then sighed. "The wily opportunist."


    "Is it bad?" Primrose asked, concern in her voice.


    "No, it''s just¡­" Molam thought about it, then sighed again. "Well, it won''t matter. A small price to pay to get what we need."


    "Now I''m curious what it is. Perhaps I should stay to help?"


    "No, no, no," Molam replied hurriedly. "Go to the Square and participate as needed. You should be allowed to vote, having grown up in ZhiXia City. Remember; every vote counts ¡ª especially when the ones who are definitely going to the Square feel strongly about the issue."


    "Fine," Primrose stepped lightly down Sanctuary''s stairs, then turned back. "You''re not going to disappear for weeks again, right?"


    "No. As soon as this is over, we need to go to Oasis, remember? We need jade."


    After regarding him with glowing eyes, Primrose nodded. "I hope everything goes well on your end."


    "You too." Molam hesitated, then added, "Remember what Shurra told us, too, about GloomSire''s bond being attacked. Something about that concerns me, but we don''t know whether it''ll impact anything today. Make sure I''m informed if anything happens, particularly about the results of the trial and vote."


    Primrose nodded, then melted into the crowd, somehow leaving no trace of her vivid red hair. Molam looked for a moment longer, trying to see if he could spot her moving through the throng, but soon gave up. He turned and walked back into Sanctuary, slipping through a side door and making his way towards the Inner Sanctum.


    The turnout was better than expected. The funeral rites would draw the friends and families of the casualties. The Oracle''s appearance would draw other residents who had never seen her in person. All that was left was to hope HuaLang Chamber''s people outnumbered those that felt strong enough about the Whale''s mistake to show up.


    And as long as GloomSire returned to ZhiXia City with Kalle, everything would be fine.


    Or so Molam hoped. There was nothing else he could do, right?


    He pushed the door to the Inner Sanctum open, shoving these thoughts to the back of his head. The familiar white glow greeted him as the door closed, and Molam bowed.


    Not a full bow, but not without respect.


    "Oracle."


    The echoless voice came through the darkness.


    "Is it time?"


    "It''s almost time, yes."


    "Then let us go." The Oracle shook a hand out of her sleeves, revealing a burnt-orange feather. Holding it upright, she twisted the shaft between her fingers and let go ¡ª the feather twirled lazily in the air, then burst into flames that immediately extinguished themselves as the phoenix soared out.


    Right in the middle of a dive, really? It sounded irate as it banked in midair and settled over its floating feather. I was stalking that rabbit all morning.


    "I thought spirits don''t need sustenance," Molam smiled.


    I don''t. But I do enjoy the hunt. It flapped its wings in an annoyed manner, then tucked them in. Ah well, there is time for that later. I am to hold the Seal while you and Molam prevent the humans from making a mistake, correct?


    "Yes," the Oracle responded, then beckoned to Molam. "Come here, Molam. Help an old woman to her feet."


    "The Leviathan isn''t going to treat this as an attack on you, I hope?" Molam stepped carefully up to the dais, approaching the Oracle with an outstretched hand.


    The Oracle laughed ¡ª and that echoed within the Inner Sanctum''s walls. It seemed almost ethereal to Molam''s ears. "No." She cocked her head to the side, as though listening to the echoes of her own laugh. "And my sister enjoyed your joke."


    Molam froze, his eyes darting about the Inner Sanctum. "Is she here?"


    "Her Domain has always covered Sanctuary." The Oracle''s small hand grasped Molam''s with incredible strength to pull herself up. She brushed the hem of her white robe, then straightened herself to full height ¡ª right to about Molam''s chest. He tried not to stare, but the eyes glittered at him from behind the dragon mask.


    "You should remember I began kneeling here at a young age, Molam," she said. "Or did you forget?"


    "I didn''t," he replied, "I just¡­ even the Whale of ZhiXia was said to have achieved his Titled status when he was young, but he at least looks older than me."


    "Ji was a young adult then and did not stop aging until he felt comfortable in his body. My position does not give me the choice to age." She took a small step, then another. "Thankfully, it means my bones still work."


    Molam recalled the decade of living in the Castle in the Sky, and felt a wave of pity for the Oracle. He had been constantly bored, with only the spirits, the Princess, and RainBringer to interact with.


    How had the Oracle endured her centuries here all alone?


    "Let us proceed." She walked towards the exit to Sanctuary, still holding his hand.


    "Ah, ahem," Molam cleared his throat as he shuffled along. "Must we hold hands?"


    "You would let an old woman walk for the first time in centuries without offering aid?"


    Molam couldn''t tell if he was being teased or not, what with her near-monotone voice. Or was it still? He felt that she had seemed¡­ more animated since she had stood up.


    "Do you really need help, though?"


    She paused and gazed at him from behind her mask. "Do you no longer need me to make an appearance?"


    "Well, that''s not what I said," Molam replied hastily.


    "You may lead the way if you wish."


    Realizing there was no point arguing, he led the way to the exit, with the Oracle in hand. A moment later, he adjusted his grip to be on her elbow. As surreptitiously as one could given the circumstances.


    Thankfully, the Oracle did not comment on his change.


    He hoped Primrose and Shurra were safely far away at the Square, for he didn''t want to hear their comments on being the Oracle''s escort later.

 Ch 63: Wisdom of the Crowd

    Exabell City stands atop the original city of Aedyn, founded some eight hundred years ago as an experiment and wager between the Red Emperor and one of the Nine Lords, Solca the Magnanimous. The two wanted to see if it was possible to let a general population rule itself as equals under the principle of "One Vote, One Voice."


    Solca believed it was possible, and the Red Emperor admitted his own prejudice but supported her founding of Aedyn without interference. It is written that the Red Emperor hoped to be wrong, stating that if he was not burdened with ruling, he could devote himself to better pursuits.


    The first Aedyn failed in just over a century, after the fourth generation of inhabitants became burdened by the voting decisions of the second, going to war with itself when the city became split in two along a wealth divide. The second attempt, called Aedynn, was readjusted for a representative system based on "Many Votes, One Voice." It, too, failed by its third century, a slow decline as power gathered in the hands of those who controlled and represented the votes.


    After Aedynn also fell due to infighting, the Red Emperor found Solca grieving among the ashes. Allegedly, the Red Emperor consoled Solca, stating that it was not her fault when people were cruel to their own. Seeing her still morose, the Red Emperor then offered her the resources to try again, but Solca refused. She declared she had lost their wager and stated that it would be cruel of her to subject another set of people to their own rule again.


    Instead, Solca collected the ashes of Aedynn and forged the founding bell of Exabell. Today, it still rings in the time of day for the entire City to hear, and is the only bell allowed within the city.


    One can see these words deeply etched on its lip: "One Voice Guides All."


    ¡ª Excerpt from For Whom the Bell Tolls, by Scholar Tory


    <hr>


    ZhiXia City Square, Day of the Whale of ZhiXia''s Trial


    "Refreshments! Refreshments!"


    HuaLang Chamber had set up a temporary stand on the outskirts of the Square, and several Petals were handing out free drinks and snacks. Ostensibly, the goal was to thank people who had come to vote, but Primrose saw several Flowers and Leaves engage the people as they filled up on food and drink. No doubt Madam Scarlette had instructed them to have a conversation with the residents to make any last minute nudges in opinion wherever possible. Every single vote counted.


    Cassia was laughing loudly with two men, snippets of their conversation reaching Primrose''s ears.


    "Really? The Whale saved you from being drunk then?"


    One of the men rubbed the back of his head abashedly. "Well, saved is a strong word there. More like¡­ prevented me from doing something stupid. It wasn''t my best time, you see."


    His friend elbowed him. "That sounds like he saved you from yourself, you dolt."


    Seeing Primrose observing them, Cassia gave a small wink when she patted the first man on the arm. "You know, I''ve been hearing so many stories today about good encounters with our Whale. Does any other City''s Titled One have so many personal daily interactions with their residents? It''s such a farce that we even put him on trial." Her voice carried; she spoke more loudly than was necessary in order for the words to reach others in the square.


    Nearby, similar conversations were happening within earshot of HuaLang Chamber''s makeshift refreshment stand. Dahlia stood at attention with several elderly residents, listening to their chatter. She had always had the patience for that. Flora and Leilani were flanked by several young men, and judging by the conversation it sounded like they were bragging about the times they had helped the Whale of ZhiXia feed some strays. A curious thing to brag about, thought Primrose, but then again, the men were young. She frowned. Shurra had declined to come, saying she needed to feed the strays. There must be something important there, and she made a mental note to look into that.


    Primrose sidled up behind Madam Scarlette, who reclined in a chair with a cup of tea. Though the woman looked composed, serene to the point of being oblivious to her surroundings, Primrose knew better. No doubt the Madam was eavesdropping on each and every conversation in the Square.


    "Glay," Madam Scarlette called lightly, and the Flower walked up.


    "Yes, Madam?"


    "Be a dear and offer some refreshments to the trio over there," the Madam pointed to the far corner, indicating a teenage boy, a middle-aged woman, and an elderly man. "Perhaps some silverleaf tea with honey to soothe their argument. See to it that the younger two remember who ZhiXia City has to thank for almost a century of peace."


    "Of course, Madam." The Flower bowed, gliding off with a flutter of her silk robes. She paused at the refreshment stand, then headed towards the trio with a tray bearing three cups of tea.


    "Silverleaf, hm?" Primrose placed a light hand on the Madam''s chair. "You''re giving away some expensive tea."


    "We can always buy more silverleaf," the Madam took a delicate sip from her own cup. "I only worry about the things that cannot be bought."


    The two of them watched Gladiolus approach the arguing trio. Judging from their shared nose and jawline, Primrose guessed they were family. The elder man seemed to be pleading with the woman and the teenager, but neither one seemed to care.


    "Shouldn''t you be with Molam?" Madam Scarlette asked.


    "He told me to come here so I can report to him if anything doesn¡¯t go as planned."


    "And what is he doing then, if not coming here himself?"


    "Based on what Molam said, the Oracle made certain requests before she¡¯d cooperate which required him to be present." Primrose scrunched up her face, trying to remember if Molam explained anything more. "Hmm, he didn''t elaborate. But he did express a certain concern ¡ª do you remember what Shurra relayed to us yesterday, regarding GloomSire''s bond?"


    "Hmm." Madam Scarlette tapped the rim of her teacup. Gladiolus had offered tea to all three, and they had accepted. The teenager had downed his in one gulp, plopping the cup back on Gladiolus'' tray. The woman was nursing her cup, and the elderly man was speaking to Gladiolus in an animated manner.


    "The old man knows his tea," Madam Scarlette observed, then shifted in her seat. "A Shark approaches."


    Primrose looked up to see Aster pushing through the crowd, heading towards their stand. She brought her hand behind her back to reach for a knife, but Madam Scarlette murmured, "Don''t bother, Primrose. Captain Aster knows better than to engage in anything but civil discourse."


    She dropped her hand, but kept her vigil. "You''re the one holding a needle."


    "Hmm? Oh," Madam Scarlette seemed almost surprised to find her free hand on her thigh, where several of the needles embedded in her dress gleamed. "Well, force of habit, isn''t it? I don''t expect to need them." She did not move her hand.


    When Aster walked up, he nodded at Primrose. "It''s been several years, Prim."


    Primrose nodded back stiffly. "Captain Aster." It pained her to speak so formally to the one who taught her generation of Petals close-quarter combat, both with and without blades. But their circumstances were different now.


    "Bring Captain Aster a seat. May we offer you some refreshments, Captain?" Madam Scarlette smiled at him. She snapped a finger and two Petals walked up, one carrying three cups on a tray, the other carrying three small pots with closed lids. "There''s quite a selection here today. Freshly brewed silverleaf, satem, and pu''er tea. Not to mention wildflower honey, sugar, or dried plum powder for you to add depending on your preference. I remember you were quite fond of satem tea, but I do recommend the silverleaf today, as it''s been aged wonderfully in the Sun."


    A Root walked over with a small stool, but Aster shook his head. He looked at the tea selection, then picked the pu''er and sniffed it.


    "Which one of these is the dried plum powder?" he asked the other Petal. The girl pointed to the corresponding pot; Aster opened the lid and took a pinch of powder before thanking the two, spreading the powder evenly over his tea. "Don''t be afraid to tell Madam Scarlette when your hands and feet are tired, Petals. Madam Scarlette isn''t as strict as Madam Ixia was, but she still won''t know unless you speak up."


    The Petals looked down, shuffling to the side. Aster chuckled, then sipped at his tea, standing next to Madam Scarlette. "This was well-aged." He sniffed again. "Burdock''s handiwork?"


    "The pu''er? Yes, these are from Burdock''s storage. I''m glad your tastes haven''t declined, given your time away from us."


    "Madam Ixia''s lessons tend to stick for a long time."


    Madam Scarlette laughed at that. "Yes. Who can forget her sermons?"


    "I''ll admit I didn''t expect you to get Sanctuary to act," Aster began slowly, "though, admittedly, indirectly. I assume Prim was involved?" His piercing gaze brought Primrose back to her years as a Petal, training under his watchful eyes.


    Primrose shook her head. "I don''t have the means to convince Sanctuary to do anything, much less the Oracle."


    "Really now. Curious. Quite curious¡­" Aster murmured. He sipped at his tea again with an unfocused look in his eyes, then looked at Primrose again. "Of course. The Oracle''s vessel. I believe¡­" his brows furrowed with concentration. "His name was Molam?"


    Before Primrose could respond, Madam Scarlette asked, "Does it matter? Sanctuary is doing what Sanctuary wants to do. I hope you aren''t faulting Sanctuary in this matter."


    "I simply don''t believe that an adequate understanding of the residents'' will can be achieved with such a small amount coming out to vote."


    "No one is preventing anyone from coming to vote," Madam Scarlette replied. "People are simply choosing to not come vote. That, in and of itself, is their vote. Or would you force every single person to come vote?"


    "Of course not. Some would consider that forced expression, and people do have the right to keep their opinions to themselves."


    "Oh? How gracious of you to accept the people''s opinion, even if it disagrees with your own."


    Primrose saw Madam Scarlette''s fingers tighten around a strand of silver in her dress. She agreed; something was wrong. Madam Scarlette had described their earlier meeting as ¡°emotionally difficult.¡± But now? Aster was far too calm despite knowing exactly what was happening. Primrose looked around, scanning for something ¡ª anything, that she had missed.


    She found nothing. The Square had a small crowd of gathered residents, yes, but it was only several hundred at best, compared to the several thousand lined up in front of Sanctuary. HuaLang Chamber had brought almost a hundred of their own. Molam had predicted those who were directly related to the dead would feel compelled to attend Sanctuary''s funeral rites instead, so the ones most likely to vote against the Whale of ZhiXia would not be here. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    Out of the corner of her eyes, Primrose saw her Flower sisters also scanning their surroundings, the intensity of their gazes belying their apparent interest in the conversations they were still participating in. Each of them were paying attention to Aster''s conversation with Madam Scarlette, but none of them had approached Scarlette¡¯s table. None of them had any idea what was wrong.


    What were they missing?


    "Well, it''s time." Aster stood up, setting his empty cup down on the Petal''s tray. "Thank you for the tea. But as you understand, duty calls and I have work to do."


    "Of course, of course," Madam Scarlette waved briefly. "We can''t keep the Captain from his responsibilities. But are you sure? You are invited to spend the rest of the afternoon sampling the food we brought. There will be a selection of wine, ale, and spirits later as well."


    "Thank you for the kind invitation, but I have complicated matters to deal with in the afternoon. I simply took the opportunity to spend some time with the only family I have left." He waved at Scarlette, then nodded to Primrose and the others. The smile seemed genuine. "I hope that no matter the outcome after the next hour, we''ll still find time to have tea with each other, Scarlette."


    For a brief moment, Primrose saw Scarlette''s practiced smile slip. The corners of her lips curved ever so slightly; a smile only recognizable to those who knew her before she succeeded Madam Ixia''s position. "You are welcome at HuaLang Chamber anytime, Aster. Madam Ixia instructed me to keep a place for you should you ever forgive yourself."


    "She did say that, didn''t she?" Aster replied. "Maybe one day, when I''m confident that our people are protected."


    "Madam." An urgent whisper to Primrose''s left ¡ª Cassia. Their gazes followed Cassia''s pointing finger to the voting booth that was being set up in front of the trial platform. Primrose squinted, trying to understand why Cassia was drawing their attention towards it, then she looked again.


    There was only one voting booth in the Square.


    "Captain Aster," Madam Scarlette''s voice had gone silky and cold. "I believe your Sharks have forgotten the other voting booths. Based on our population count, shouldn''t there be four?"


    "Ah, yes. Quite astute. Worry not, all four voting booths will be set out according to the law." Aster walked away, heading back towards the platform. "However, there are no rules that say voting can only be conducted here at the trial grounds."


    <hr>


    Sanctuary, right before noon


    "We are almost there, Molam."


    Molam blinked. "I believe that''s the first time you''ve used my name, Oracle."


    "Is it now?" They were walking together through a series of corridors and hallways he had never been through, and most of them had been unlit. Well, Molam felt that it was less walking together and more of the Oracle tugging him along, now holding onto his hand ¡ª at her insistence. Only the glow of the Oracle''s aura guided their path, and he suspected they had walked somewhere upwards based on the slight elevation in their route. The Oracle eventually added, "I think I stopped remembering names because it stopped mattering. But you have made an impression."


    After a moment of thought, Molam nodded. "I¡­ think that''s an interesting perspective. I suppose for someone like you¡­" Molam struggled with the words, then decided she wouldn''t mind. "Your position doesn''t afford you much opportunity to form bonds, does it?"


    "Eternity tends to keep you in one place as others move on," she replied as they turned another corner, walking up a set of steps. "And that is why I am willing to do this for Ji. He has been a constant and steadfast companion for some time now."


    "This wouldn''t have been necessary if people weren''t so shortsighted," Molam glowered. "Always making decisions that only look at immediate benefits and self-gratification. If it came down to it, they would even be willing to give up their own ¡ª"


    She stopped abruptly and, caught up in his own thoughts, Molam didn¡¯t notice the change until he bumped into her. She turned slowly to him, the dragon mask leering through the darkness, illuminated only by her glow.


    "Why do you think we do the things we do, Molam?"


    Molam almost flinched at the change in her normally monotone voice. Was that sternness? "I''m not sure I understand the question."


    "Do you know this concept?" she asked, drawing in the air with her other hand. White aura formed the two simple characters in the air, which lingered in the dark corridor.


    Molam recognized the Old Tongue. "Tian Xia. My mentor mentioned it in several lessons. ''Under the Sky,'' or more accurate to its meaning, ''Below the Heavens.''"


    "Good." The Oracle resumed walking, tugging him along, guiding him with her glow. "It is a reminder that we live under the same sky, in the light of the same Sun. Remember this when you feel the desire to disregard your fellow people."


    "...I''m afraid I don''t quite understand¡­?" Molam followed her steps, wary for any sharp turns or corners he could bump into. "Isn''t it the idea that each of our actions will impact the lives of others, and theirs will affect ours in turn? When considering the possible actions available to others, we should preemptively ensure that their poor decisions can be mitigated or nullified. Doing so prepares us for the long term, and we can ¡ª"


    Her hand squeezed his ¡ª firm, but not painful. "I know why you feel the way you do, Molam. But do not fall for the mistake of blaming individuals for the way they act. Have you considered that what you think of as ''long-term'' is perhaps just another century or four for me?"


    Molam opened his mouth, then closed it. "That is true."


    "Then this old woman''s advice to you is to respect their right to be wrong."


    "Even if they would sentence Master Ji to death?" he blurted out.


    "Yes. And that is why we do the things we do. Consider you right now, going down the wrong path of believing that just because you disagree, their opinions hold no merit. Just as I am guiding you back towards the right way, it is important for you to remember our position." She turned a corner, and Molam followed. "The Companions believed in this too, and I agree. We should only illuminate as much as we can and let the people find their own way."


    "But if they choose wrong¡ª"


    "Then you will have done a poor job of guiding, Molam. It was a good idea to offer an alternative choice for the people to come to Sanctuary instead of Ji''s trial, but I participate only because you gave them a choice. Do you understand?"


    Molam almost wanted to continue arguing, but something about what the Oracle was saying resonated with him. His mentor had said something similar in one of their lectures.


    "Yes," he answered instead.


    "Do not lie to me."


    Molam corrected himself. "I will¡­ consider what you just said and try to understand it. With an open mind," he added.


    "Good. You can still learn and grow. We are here."


    They stood in front of a dead end. Molam looked around with a raised brow. Not even a hint of a door. "Where, exactly?"


    "A place that has not been used in centuries." The Oracle stepped forward, still tugging his hand. She placed a palm on the end of the hall. The entire wall glowed at her touch, pulsed, then melted away as though nothing had ever been there.


    Molam covered his eyes instinctively, for the bright light of the Sun almost blinded him. The Oracle''s hand tugged him forward several steps, and the next moment a deafening roar greeted his ears. When Molam blinked away the spots, he saw that both he and the Oracle were standing on a stone ledge overlooking the frontal gathering area of Sanctuary, where the Great Bonfire had been.


    Looking down, he saw a massive crowd ¡ª it must have been tens of thousands of people looking up at the two of them. Many wore white, which certain Cities used as a color of mourning. Or perhaps it was a sign of respect for the Oracle. And in the center, surrounded by a ring of Priestesses, was the funeral pyre. Hundreds of bodies covered in white cloth, laid to rest in rows upon the wood pallets. Several people were allowed to be near some of the bodies ¡ª Molam suspected they were family or loved ones.


    The crowd roared again, not quite a cheer but a definite greeting.


    "Oracle!" came the shouts, a tsunami of sound that washed over his ears in a deafening crescendo. At first, Molam could not understand the enthusiasm at a funeral rite, but then he remembered why he had proposed this method in the first place. To many, young or old, the Oracle was just a legend who had never made a public appearance even since the time of their great-grandparents. Most of them had never expected to be given the chance to see her during their lifetimes, and Molam had gambled on that burning curiosity.


    "It appears most of ZhiXia City is here," the Oracle murmured. "Your goal seems feasible."


    Molam shook his head. He saw several people wearing the uniform of the Sharks on the outskirts of Sanctuary setting up what looked to be voting booths. Of course, he thought, impressed. Whoever was organizing the voting effort was versatile. Moving the booths here was an option too. Was that Aster''s idea? I should meet this man. "We won''t know until the results are in."


    "Cautious, but true. Then it is time for me to carry out my duties." She stood forward and held up a hand ¡ª even in the bright light of the day, the pure white of her aura flashed out to envelop each and every member of the audience. The crowd fell into a hushed silence.


    "I thank you all for coming together in a time of grief," the Oracle began. She made no effort to raise her voice. Molam guessed something about her aura had made her echoless words sound as though she was standing right in front of every person in the crowd. He saw several people instinctively glance around them, surprised, as though they expected to see her there and couldn¡¯t quite understand when she wasn¡¯t.


    "We gather here today to pay homage to the departed. Recent events have brought death and destruction to the people of ZhiXia City. I do not leave my post in the Inner Sanctum lightly, but now I join you to share in your sorrow and to conduct the funeral rites that will give the ones we loved a proper send-off to God Yven''s stony halls."


    Several Priestesses reached towards the grieving people still in the center, gently guiding them out of the funeral pyre. With a start, Molam realized one of the bodies had a small dip in the cloth where the arm should have connected to the shoulder. His fingers clenched.


    "Though I cannot call myself a fellow resident of ZhiXia City, know that I watch over all of you. I share your collective joys and sorrows. And so understand me when I say that I will also miss their footsteps, their laughter, their warmth." The Oracle raised her hands up high, her palms facing outwards. Her voice became soft. "Saying farewell to someone we care for is a bitter experience, made worse when we know there will never be another greeting. Take solace, then, in the memories that stay. I would like you to remember it as a gift from life, granting us bonds so dearly beloved that parting leaves us with such a sense of loss."


    She brought her hands together in a light clap, and a solitary red flame flared into existence right above the pyre. It seemed held in place above the bodies, then began descending slowly.


    "The Sun may set, but we always look towards the light that chases away our darkness. I ask you all to reminisce about the memories that you would like to send with the First Flame, and they will become the light that guides their way through God Yven''s Domain."


    Molam''s hand found the slip of paper with all the names. He closed his eyes, seeing the list in his mind''s eye. He had stared at that list long enough to have memorized each and every one of them, but two of the names still stuck out to him. Martyker. Jiovanny. A new wave of grief washed over him ¡ª he hadn''t visited Jiovanny''s shop since he returned. There hadn''t been time.


    Now he wouldn''t be able to eat Jiovanny''s handmade sweets ever again.


    Why hadn''t he gone to see Jiovanny during the Festival? More importantly, why hadn''t this occurred to him until it was too late? The words of Flangel the Wise echoed in his thoughts. "My centuries only taught me I never learned to appreciate the moments that mattered."


    And Martyker. The Armed Swordsman. Molam had only known him for a day, but the man had made his mark. He saw the arm flying into the air, the flash of yellow lightning, but then a heavy hand seemed to wave those memories away. The bearded grin came again, followed by the Oasian''s final reminder to smile. A fellow cripple, was it?


    A solitary clap from the Oracle shook Molam from his reverie. He opened his eyes just in time to see the flame shift colors above the pyre, bleeding from red to orange, then shifting to yellow, growing all the while. Molam saw a steady stream of glimmering motes floating towards from the crowd; a river of memories. He saw a little flicker of white shimmering towards the flame from his location, joining the others into a twinkling swirl as the flame behind it faded from a verdant green to a sky blue.


    But it came from the Oracle, not him. Of course, he thought bitterly. As if the sorrow before him hadn¡¯t already been a sufficient reminder of his weakness.


    A small hand found his and squeezed ¡ª warmth surged through him, then a tiny ball of aura fell from his chest, dropping down before being drawn to the flame. Molam looked down at the Oracle and was surprised to see her looking up at him, the masks'' expression gentle in the light.


    "Thank you," Molam murmured.


    "You are very welcome."


    The final memory joined the now colossal flame, as it phased from an iridescent indigo to a deep violet. And then the Oracle clapped again; the flame swirled, oscillating with all of its previous hues before settling into a pure white.


    The First Flame touched the pyre and took hold, engulfing the dead until they were transformed into a white bonfire. The Oracle spoke again. "In the light of the Sun and with the First Flame, I thank the departed for gracing our lives with their presence. You will be missed and not forgotten."


    The ring of Priestesses took a step back; several of them had to gently restrain distraught residents from running towards the flames. Molam couldn¡¯t get a good look at anyone¡¯s face; the closest members of the crowd had their backs to him as they faced the pyre and the ones facing him were on the opposite side, their faces too distant for him to see clearly even if he hadn¡¯t had to look at them past a blazing fire. But he didn¡¯t need to see in order to feel the somber atmosphere; even auraless, he could feel the sharp pain of grief settle into the dull weight of a melancholic, muted silence, like embers from a fire banked under ash. It hung over thousands as the white flames crackled occasionally, consuming everything within.


    A powerful voice rang through the air.


    "But is that justice?"


    The sense of closure shattered. Molam looked around wildly, panic spiking through his heart. The aura-infused voice was not like the Oracle''s; it boomed throughout the air, originating from somewhere in the City.


    "I ask you again: is that justice?!"

 Ch 64: Demanding Justice

    There is a saying throughout the Central Valley: "Solca chasing harmony."


    Solca the Magnanimous spent centuries trying to create a utopia where people worked together in perfect harmony, and the phrase is traditionally used to refer to acts of a person who tries to ensure everyone in a group cooperates seamlessly. I am certain we all know someone who fits that description: tirelessly mediating, always trying to get everyone to see eye-to-eye, forever facilitating harmonious conversation.


    But it has also taken on a new meaning in recent decades: a person chasing an impossible dream. A good example would be: that farmboy training with a wooden stick in hopes of joining the Red Army is like Solca chasing harmony.


    For additional reading, see For Whom the Bell Tolls by the esteemed Scholar Tory.


    ¡ª Excerpt from The Nine Lords by Scholar Tessy


    <hr>


    ZhiXia City Square


    Primrose was torn. To run to Sanctuary and inform Molam? No; the trial was starting. It was too late for her to find him ¡ª their parting words had implied that he would be with the Oracle, and she was not invited to the Inner Sanctum.


    Aster ¡ª Captain Aster ¡ª walked onto the platform and placed his hands on the podium. The man looked striking without effort, clad in dark-colored clothes that looked comfortably tight, chosen to emphasize freedom of movement without unnecessary looseness. Petals were trained from an early age to be wary of loose clothes being caught on sharp edges or giving an enemy an additional area to grab. Aster in particular had a natural skill that made him command attention whenever he wanted, which he employed to great effect as he looked around at the hundreds gathered with a solemn face. The sounds of the crowd had fallen into a hushed silence before he cleared his throat.


    "My fellow citizens," he began. Aster''s voice had always carried a velvety baritone, further emphasized when he spoke slower than normal. The effect came across as though each word was deliberate and with purpose. "I understand that Sanctuary has made a historic decision for the Oracle to personally conduct the funeral rites in public. An important occasion that many would not miss, and so I appreciate those of you who chose to come today to make your voices heard. After all is said and done, our small City can only function as a society because of everyone''s equal participation and contribution."


    "Today, we mourn as those who can no longer see the light of the Sun are sent off to God Yven''s embrace. Today, we cremate our loved ones, never to see their faces in the flesh again. Today, we pay tribute to the First Flame so the fresh scars on our souls can find it time to heal. Then tomorrow, we go back to the important task of rebuilding our city and restarting our livelihoods."


    "But is that justice?"


    Primrose flinched at the booming voice. She didn''t remember Aster being able to enhance his voice like that, but that wasn''t important now. So this was his game ¡ª he had moved three of the voting booths to Sanctuary, and now he was ensuring that those in Sanctuary could hear him. Molam''s plan had been to dilute the vote by pulling residents to another event, and Aster had responded to that by trying to expand the reach of this event.


    His passionate voice carried out anew. "I ask you again: is that justice?! Is it enough for us to merely bury our dead and restore what was? Is it right to walk away from this event having learned nothing? Is it not important to ask what happened in order to ensure such a thing never happens again? Do we not improve as a society by holding those responsible for their mistakes as well?" Aster''s hands gripped the wooden podium, then he continued. "When people become sick or die as a result of a restaurant''s food, do we not ask the owners to take responsibility? When a house crumbles, do you not ask whether it was from outside forces or improper construction? Is it not a question of accountability?"


    Of the five paths taught to Petals to master in order to become Flowers, Primrose had found the path of Blades to be her favorite. And while most Flowers of her age considered Aster to be nigh unparalleled with blades, his true calling had been the path of Whispering Wind ¡ª a path for Flowers to specialize in spreading rumors and controlling the discourse.


    Aster clenched a fist into the air. "Why, then, should we treat this tragedy any differently? Are we to accept silence as a substitute for action? Are we to turn a blind eye to what happened when the evidence is all around us? I refuse to believe that we are so indifferent, so complacent. We must demand answers, we must demand change. And change cannot happen without accountability, properly assigned to those who shoulder responsibilities. There is no justice without accountability, and without justice there is no trust in society." The fist slammed down into the podium. "Our society is built on the foundation of trust. We trust our leaders to protect us and our fellow members to support one another. When that trust is broken and those responsibilities neglected, it is our duty to rise up and demand better. To demand¡­ justice."


    The final word lingered, whether through aura enhancement or simply in the ears of those who heard Aster''s speech. Aster paused, looking around the crowd with smolder in his eyes. "I stand here today as Captain of the Sharks, entrusted with the duty to pursue accountability and give each of you a fair opportunity to seek justice. And so I bring you the accused ¡ª Ji WuMing."


    Primrose bit the inside of her cheek. To use the Whale''s full name, and in such a public manner. Then she heard a rustle of chains and stifled a gasp of surprise. She now understood Molam''s grim face when he had visited the Whale''s cell several days ago.


    Master Ji emerged from the City Center, flanked by four of the Sharks. His wrists and ankles were manacled and bound by chains, with the ones around his feet so short that he could only shuffle forward. Clinks of metal accompanied each of his footsteps. But what drew Primrose''s ire was the heavy jade collar affixed to his neck, with four metal chainlinkss attached to poles held by each of the Sharks.


    A part of her twinged with fury, but she tempered it with reason. Primrose understood why, even if she couldn''t hold back her feeling of disgust. Aster had trained at HuaLang Chamber and was no stranger to the importance of presentation. This had been calculated to give the crowd the image of a dangerous convict right after such a speech.


    She found herself wondering if she had been too lax when it came to the path of the Whispering Wind. Most Flowers found it to be the least interesting of the five paths taught at HuaLang Chamber given its delicate and subtle nature, but blades and needles could only do so much when the heart and mind were what drove people to act. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    As the Sharks shepherded the Whale up to the platform, Aster continued. "He stands accused of willful negligence and abandonment of his duties. His decision to pursue the Empire''s Titled Ones left our City defenseless, one made worse by the OutCast''s rampage after he was unable to subdue her. In doing so, our City lost hundreds of lives and suffered incalculable damages to buildings and infrastructure. Today, one could even reason that it was the result of his actions that caused the Oracle to need to personally leave her Inner Sanctum to conduct the funeral rites."


    Upon reaching the top of the platform, the four Sharks affixed their wooden poles into their respective slots and stood at attention. No doubt Aster had chosen his burliest men for the job of escort duty, but even if the largest among them could rival Shurra and Kalle, each of them looked somewhat small next to Master Ji. The Whale of ZhiXia stood silently, head bowed down as the City held its breath, listening to Aster speak. Primrose saw Madam Scarlette shift in her seat; her hands were clenched tightly together, her knuckles white.


    But they couldn''t intervene.


    "We all know the death toll. Four hundred and counting, but what are numbers next to names? It was someone we knew. Someone we loved! Someone we laughed with, ate with, played with. A resident of ZhiXia City is a friend and neighbor. For what is a City without its residents? What is a group without its participants? When it comes down to it¡ª"


    A sudden movement in the crowd; a pot flew through the air. Aster reacted swiftly, snagging the pot with a hand, but the oil within had already splashed out of the open lid, raining down onto one of the Sharks as well as Master Ji. Primrose saw smoke rising from the flying liquid before it splattered over a young man, who screamed. He recoiled in pain, windmilling his arm in a vain attempt to get the liquid off his skin. Nearby, the Whale of ZhiXia did not even flinch as the boiling oil splashed over his head, dripping harmlessly down his skin.


    Several of the Sharks jumped into the crowd, restraining the woman who had thrown the pot. Primrose noticed it was one of the ones who had set up a stall earlier. She now recalled the woman had only brought the bare minimum of ingredients to man her stall, a detail which would have normally set Primrose on edge.


    But she had been distracted.


    "You were supposed to keep them safe! All of them!" The woman''s anguished screams could be heard throughout the Square. Her shrill voice became muffled as two of the Sharks held her down, but a burst of anger or grief gave her further strength to bellow from the ground. "We trusted you!"


    More movement in the crowd; a thrown knife, rotten vegetables, and several eggs. A young man leapt up to the platform, fire in his eyes as he rushed the bound Whale with a chipped shovel. Two of the Sharks blocked him, knocking the weapon to the side and wrestling him down on his back. The man ¡ª he couldn''t have seen more than twenty Sorrows ¡ª spat towards Master Ji and roared with rage before they flipped him over and shoved his head down onto the wooden boards.


    Master Ji stayed motionless amidst the chaos. Rotten egg stained his face and chest, and a squashed fruit had left a splotch of ugly red on the side of his head. The thrown knife had fallen down harmlessly to the platform. He said nothing and did not react at all, eyes looking downwards at the wooden platform; the look of a man resigned to his fate.


    Aster stood up, having administered to the young Shark ¡ª Primrose saw angry, splotchy burns on his arm ¡ª before shouting instructions at the others. They carried their ally off the platform and she winced as she got a better look at the burnt skin. If the healers were not experienced, the skin would become mottled or worse. Pointing to the instigating woman and the young man who had climbed the platform, Aster shouted several other instructions. The two were fully subdued, to be brought to the City Center''s jail.


    Several members of the Sharks walked through the crowd, pacifying the chaos and soothing worried residents. It was another few moments before Aster took the podium again. This time a line of four members of the Sharks stood in front of the platform with their hands clasped behind their backs, forcing a gap between the audience and the stage. Evidently, Aster was not taking any chances with another similar incident given the number of people in the crowd.


    "I must express my disappointment in those that violated the rules just now. Justice should not be carried out by any individual hand," he stared down at the audience. Primrose was surprised at the genuine anger in Aster''s voice. "ZhiXia conducts justice through a voting system to ensure all voices are equally heard. Does everyone understand? We do not take matters into our own hands and deny the rest of society their opportunity to participate in the voting and sentencing. You can make your grievances known today with the voting booths we have placed in the City Square and outside Sanctuary."


    He pointed at the nearby voting booth, then continued. "That being said, I understand your anger. Your vote is your answer to several questions: is it justice that Ji WuMing lives while our loved ones do not? Should he still be trusted to be the Titled One that defends our City? Trust is an all or nothing endeavor ¡ª if you cannot trust him with your life, then vote accordingly. For our peace of mind, he has agreed to the death penalty if you vote for it." He paused, then added, "We the people hold the power to decide justice. And so I hope that all of you make your voices known, whether it is anger or fury, mercy or gratitude. Let the voting commence."


    "I don''t like how he phrased that," Primrose muttered to Madam Scarlette.


    "He''s simply using what he was taught by Madam Ixia," was her reply. "You did the same in JiangXi, even if you aren''t as skilled."


    But Primrose heard the forced civility in Madam Scarlette''s voice; she had been fingering the needles in her dress since the oil had been thrown. No doubt the perpetrators who had attacked would be investigated sometime soon.


    Primrose observed the people lining up for the voting booth. She couldn''t imagine what it was like at Sanctuary, but the people here wore grim expressions. No doubt the commotion earlier had been a stark reminder of what was lost and why they were here.


    Justice.


    "Emotions are high," observed Primrose. "If we let them vote right now, that''s it." She looked towards the Madam, whose features were inscrutable behind that veil. There would be no time to run to Sanctuary and ask Molam what to do; they had to make do with anything they could come up with at this very moment. "Is there nothing else we can do? Send Petals and Flowers to mingle in the voting line? Something more drastic?"


    "Yes to the mingling, no to anything more drastic." Madam Scarlette''s voice carried a cold note compared to her usual lively musical tones. "The rules are clear. We cannot interfere."


    When Primrose opened her mouth to protest, the sky darkened. A roar echoed throughout the skies and she looked up to see GloomSire and a terrified-looking Kalle sitting astride the black pixiu, flying at breakneck speed towards ZhiXia City.


    The sight made Primrose leap back as Madam Scarlette vaulted backwards over her chair, the two of them pulling out their weapons. The rest of the City Square had also noticed, looking up to the skies with their mouths wide open. Primrose sharpened her Sight, focusing her vision to see the bleeding injuries on both GloomSire and his bonded pixiu.


    Flying close behind them ¡ª far too close for comfort ¡ª chased the green wind of the Tempest. In Primrose''s Sight, the deep blue of GloomSire''s Domain retreated in front of the Tempest''s emerald green Domain. Wherever the two Domains clashed,


    But more than that, following right behind the Tempest was a man whose spreading Domain turned the vibrant blue skies above ZhiXia City a dark, ominous gray.


    "Prim. Is that¡­?" the Madam asked slowly, as though needing confirmation for what was in front of their very eyes.


    "Yes." Primrose fought the terror rising in her chest as the memories made her palms sweat. It was Scarlette''s first time seeing this specific Domain, but everyone had heard of it at least once.


    All know the legend. Few remember the nightmare.


    And how could Primrose forget the gray Domain of a Sunless day? It was the same one she had seen when Teljumaya disappeared in flames two decades ago, leaving only the World Tree standing among the ash and soot. "What is he doing here?"


    The Eclipse had never returned to ZhiXia City since the Empire''s failed excursion almost a century ago.

 Ch 65: A Sunless Day

    Ruskru is the second orphan who joined the Red Army and climbed his way to becoming Titled, now formally known as the Eclipse. While he signs his name as Ruskru WuMing, there is no known blood connection between him and Ji WuMing.


    There are stories of the two growing up together in the Red Army, with Ruskru achieving the rank of Division Commander for the Second Division when Ji WuMing was assigned the rank of Commander of the Red Army. The year they became Titled saw an infamous incident where the two ran afoul of the Submerged Leviathan of ZhiXia, an event which almost resulted in their deaths if they had not been saved by the timely arrival of the Empire''s Prince.


    Interestingly, they have had minimal public contact since Ji WuMing''s defection from the Empire. The only known instance of the two of them being within the same City after the Whale''s defection was during the Empire''s conquest of Teljumaya, when the Whale''s two disciples attempted to kill the Prince, slumbering from his fight with Teljumaya''s Titled Ones. The disciples encountered the Avalanche and the WildFire, resulting in the battle that became the Burning of Teljumaya. The Whale of ZhiXia and the Eclipse arrived at the same time and little else is known given the few survivors, but it is known that the Whale arrived too late to save his disciples.


    It is rumored the Eclipse has, on multiple occasions, expressed regret for arriving too late to stop their deaths.


    ¡ª Excerpt from Titled Ones, by Scholar Gibryl of the Fallen Star Pavilion


    <hr>


    ZhiXia City Square


    The shadowy Domain crept forward, a relentless march against hope. It engulfed the Sun, turning the blazing light into a void, a black hole obliterated from the sky. Primrose shivered, and not entirely with fear; the Domain known as a Sunless day didn¡¯t just steal the light of the Sun but also its warmth, leaving an eerie chill in its wake.


    A hush fell over the crowd as they cast their gazes upward, eyes drawn to the unnatural eclipse. For a brief moment, nobody spoke as the black pixiu dove, charging towards Sanctuary. A hail of emerald arced through the air, razor winds cutting them off from their path and clipping a wingtip. The pixiu went into a spiraling fall, crashing into a building below. With a quick drop, the Tempest followed, her silver-white clothes flowing in the wind.


    But the Eclipse stayed unmoving, his black robes billowing around him, secured by a bright red sash that curled through the sky. Thick bangs framed a light brown face, and his braided, thick black hair fell neatly down his back. Even from far away, Primrose felt the piercing gaze of his dark brown eyes settle on the man chained on the platform. She fought her instinct to run ¡ª a separate terror in her gut told her if she moved, she would draw the Titled One''s attention.


    Then someone in the crowd caught her breath and screamed in terror. Her voice shook the rest out of their reverie. Everyone scattered, the panic audible as more screams joined the first, scrambling to run in the opposite direction of the approaching Domain.


    Everyone recognized the significance of a Sunless day.


    Captain Aster shouted commands from the platform, pointing some of the Sharks to the fallen in the crowd. Someone shouted a question back at him, and the Captain shook his head, gesturing wildly at the Eclipse in the sky. Near Primrose, Madam Scarlette had also stood up, issuing rapid orders of her own. The Roots and Leaves were being told to leave the items where they were; their lives were more important. Cassia and Flora had already leapt into the dispersing crowd, commanded to help those who had fallen to their feet.


    Primrose joined them, her eyes seeking out an elderly woman who had been pushed down. The wailing, panicked shouts deafened her as she wove into the sea of bodies, heading blindly towards the old woman''s last location. Primrose found her barely unconscious ¡ª several people must have stepped over her and judging by the smudges on her face, they hadn''t cared where their feet had landed.


    Primrose heaved the woman''s arm over her shoulders, standing to see most of the crowd had dispersed. She turned towards her flower sisters, only to see Madam Scarlette gesturing wildly at her.


    "Primrose, no! Drop her and come back! His Domain is reaching you!"


    She glanced behind her, unable to stop herself watching the shadowless gray drain the color out of everything it touched. The Domain cut a clear line in reality ¡ª one side full of life, and one without.


    "Drop her!" Scarlette commanded, half demanding, half pleading.


    Primrose shook her head stubbornly. A Titled One''s Domain, yes. But she had experienced the OutCast''s and survived. She couldn''t leave this poor woman alone.


    "Goddess Thraw grant me patience. Cassia, Flora, help Primrose!"


    The two women ran forward. Cassia ducked under the elderly woman''s other arm, and Flora lifted her feet from behind. Primrose nodded in appreciation, and the two of them smiled back.


    The three of them began picking up speed when the Domain reached them.


    Primrose''s chest seized up immediately. They stumbled, the unseen weight bringing them to their knees. The elderly woman fell down between them, but none of them could react. There was no pain ¡ª just a sensation of pure, crushing pressure on Primrose''s body, numbing her senses as it felt like thousands of needles pricked at her skin from the inside. Her muscles and joints refused to move, and she fought down the rising panic.


    She hadn''t felt this in a long time; the sensation of her body being immersed in another person''s aura. She did her best to spread her own aura throughout her body, but it was like trying to light a fire in a raging blizzard. The only solace she could find was that this was just the Domain ¡ª while she was certainly at his mercy, she hadn''t been attacked yet.


    As she swallowed her fear, Primrose couldn''t help but think about her shortcomings. How could she have been so arrogant as to think she would be fine just because she had experienced the OutCast''s Domain? She was one of the last people to have seen a Sunless day; how could she think that a mere two decades of training could have bridged such a hopeless gap?


    "I''m sorry, Captain Aster. But I cannot wait any longer for you to undo my bindings."


    Primrose raised her eyes to see the Whale of ZhiXia looking apologetically at Aster as he broke the chains around his manacles. A freed hand went up to his neck, crumpling the thick metal collar in an iron fist as he took a step, snapping the chains restricting his ankles. "Until the voting results say otherwise, I am still ZhiXia City''s defending Titled One."


    The Whale of ZhiXia looked towards the gray sky and the jade manacles on his wrists disintegrated, green dust dissipating into the wind. Then dense indigo aura exploded outwards, surging from his location in an overwhelming wave, crashing into the gray and forcing it back. To Primrose''s Sight, the two Domains twisted space wherever they clashed, making her head spin. She forced her gaze away.


    Something exploded nearby and a dilapidated building collapsed. An angry snarl, then the pixiu bounded from the side streets, Kalle clinging to its back for dear life. Another deafening crash, then the Tempest leapt into the air above a teetering building as a horde of cats ran up its leaning side to leap at her, their claws bared. A murder of crows descended on the Tempest as she flew out of the cats'' reach, and she protected herself by blowing them away with a swirl of wind. The birds cawed shrilly, flapping their wings against the gale.


    A dark shadow leapt up from a building. GloomSire''s bandaged hands reached for the Tempest and the two clashed in midair, disentangling after a quick grapple. The Tempest looked towards the pixiu bounding towards the Square and made to follow, then hesitated when she noticed the raging Domains. She retreated from the indigo tide, flying back to the Eclipse.


    The Whale stepped off the platform, walking towards the Square''s center. When the Whale''s Domain pushed back the Eclipse''s, a wave of calm washed over them. Primrose gasped in relief, Cassia moaned nearby, and Flora made small retching sounds, then their training took over and the three of them attempted to crawl back towards a worried Madam Scarlette. The Madam and three Roots ran forward, dragging them and the unconscious elderly woman well out of range of the gray Domain.


    The Whale held up a hand as the pixiu approached, its tongue out and panting with exhaustion. The beast regarded the Whale with a wary gaze, then turned, and an ashen-faced Kalle slid down its back, coughing as he hit the ground on all fours.


    "Kalle," the Whale greeted. "Stay where I can see you."


    The alchemist nodded, then looked towards the side as GloomSire limped out of an alleyway, flanked by at least a dozen dogs.


    "Good to see you''re still alive," GloomSire murmured, sitting down with a groan of exhaustion and leaning his head against his bond. He tilted his head back as the sitting position brought his face into range of multiple eager dogs. "Not the face right now, can''t you all see I''m tired?" The man looked back up to the Whale, adding, "Do you mind? I''m spent."


    "You did well, Yao-ren." Some of the dogs had greeted the Whale, who gave each of them a pat on the head. "Stay with Kalle."


    The bandaged man nodded his head, then closed his eyes. A cat had found its way onto his shoulder, where it batted away a dog''s inquisitive nose. Apparently it had appointed itself to guard GloomSire''s face from canine tongues.


    The Whale turned his attention up to the Eclipse and the Tempest. From Primrose''s perspective, the only colors on the Eclipse''s side of the Domain were his black robes and red sash, the Tempest''s emerald dress and silver sleeves.


    "Ruskru," the Whale of ZhiXia''s voice reverberated throughout the Square, a low rumble. "You''ve been quiet."


    The Eclipse''s voice carried despite his altitude ¡ª powerful, precise, pronounced. "It would have been rude of me to interrupt you, Ji."


    "Was that why you spread your Domain so slowly?"


    "I was perplexed as to why you were chained up. Perhaps it was some elaborate ploy to make me lower my guard." The Eclipse began descending towards GloomSire and Kalle. "Not to mention, this is a bit close to Sanctuary."


    The Whale took a step forward. "And you think I need trickery when dealing with you?"


    Stopping a small distance from the edge of his gray Domain, the Eclipse replied, "Circumstances change. I confess my curiosity; why were you chained up?" This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    "You arrived right as they were conducting my trial," the Whale said as he continued walking forward. "Obstruction of justice. Another crime of yours."


    The Eclipse floated backwards as the Whale advanced. "Trial? What for?"


    "I am being charged with criminal negligence for allowing Roxxa to wreak havoc almost two weeks ago."


    A look of confusion flitted across the Eclipse''s face before it was replaced by one of derision. "I see ZhiXia City is still populated by fools. Your talents and skills are wasted while you languish in this City, Ji. The Prince and the Empire would welcome you back anytime."


    "If you don''t like the City I call home," the Whale stepped to the edge of his Domain, looking up at the floating Titled One. "You can leave."


    The Eclipse''s brows furrowed. "The Empire is your home."


    "My stance on that is clear. Are you leaving?"


    The line dividing the battlefield twisted even further. Jagged edges of colorless gray and deep indigo burst past the boundary, lancing towards their targets before dissipating into the color each had attempted to invade.


    "My business here is for the alchemist," the Eclipse pointed to Kalle. "Give him to me and I have no reason to stay."


    "I am not asking." The Whale''s voice lowered to a growl, one that rumbled through Primrose''s bones. "You and Rei are leaving with only your lives and the clothes on your backs."


    Madam Scarlette signaled, and Primrose nodded in silent agreement. They began moving stealthily, picking up those they could and backing out slowly. None of them wanted to be here in case this talk devolved further. Primrose gave Kalle an apologetic look; she wanted nothing more than to go greet her friend.


    But her exposure to the Whale''s thick aura stopped her. It had crept up slowly, a saturation she hadn''t felt within Molam''s Domain, something that made her very skin crawl and the hairs on the back of her neck stand on edge. A sensation that she had never felt from him during the years she grew up in ZhiXia City.


    Veiled bloodthirst.


    She''d only felt this from the Whale once before: the day he¡¯d found her, crawling through the burned ruins of Teljumaya. The sensation was not directed at Primrose, but did it matter? She kept the Whale in her peripheral vision, not daring to look at him directly. It took every bit of willpower for her to keep her steps slow and measured instead of turning tail and sprinting as fast and far as she could. Unexpected? No ¡ª she had ¡ª everyone had always known who he was, from the moment they met him. The former Commander of the Red Army, who had led the First Division to capture two Cities at the age of eighteen, killing four Titled Ones in the process.


    All know the legend. Few remember the nightmare. The words sprang again into Primrose''s mind. A reminder that her twenty-six Sorrows gave her meager perspective when it came to living legends.


    "Tempting, tempting." The Eclipse seemed unphased, matching the Whale''s gaze. The snarling Domains were now visible even without Sight; the clear line was gone, drowned by a roiling turmoil of colors. White clouds, tinged with gray, formed above the City. "This reminds me of our little spars back in the day. It has been several decades since we last saw each other, yes?" He gestured around them. "I am surprised the City is still standing after Roxxa and the others decided to have their little tussle. You must have improved your control and been very careful to hold back."


    "If you are so curious, I could demonstrate my improvements in Crimson City."


    The sharp edge in the Whale''s normally calm voice made Primrose bite her lip. Perhaps the Eclipse heard it too, for he paused before responding. "It''s unlike you to leverage empty threats, old friend. Crimson City is full of historical monuments that would get even you in trouble with the Prince."


    "Then have a real threat, Ruskru." Droplets fell from the clouds, wet and cold on Primrose''s skin. Raising a wing, the pixiu covered GloomSire and Kalle from the Whale''s summoned rain. The man himself pointed a finger at the Eclipse. "Would you like to be buried here?"


    The Eclipse seemed to ponder the question before raising a lazy hand. Rain fell towards it, collecting into a ball of water that looked like a crystal ball. No ¡ª more than just the rain; the clouds themselves twisted downwards, joining the rain until the ball became an opaque gray. Despite the sheer amount of water collected, the size of the ball did not change; then he closed his hand without warning, crushing the ball into nothingness.


    Color returned to his side of the world and Sunlight shone brightly once again. The Sunless day had ended. Shaking droplets of water off his hand, the Eclipse said, "No need to waste such a good day ¡ª not when the Sun has graced us with its warmth. We''ll go. Come, Rei. We should return to the Prince."


    The Tempest said nothing, joining the Eclipse obediently. Primrose could not be certain from this distance, but it looked to her as though the Tempest was unhappy. The clouds had begun to disperse and the rain had stopped falling, but Primrose still felt the aura of his Domain ¡ª the helpless sensation of treading water in a bottomless lake.


    "For what it''s worth, I''ve disciplined Desmi for his excessive actions," the Eclipse called down. "You have my condolences for losing another disciple. I sincerely hope you don''t lose another."


    When the Whale responded, his voice was low and uncharacteristically soft. "Ruskru," he said, "Should I visit the Prince too?"


    "Don''t threaten to care after all this time," the Eclipse replied. "If you truly want to see him, none of us would stop you."


    He signaled to the Tempest, who flicked her fan. A ball of emerald wind wrapped around the two. When it dispersed, there was no longer anyone there.


    Master Ji stayed looking up at the skies as the last of his clouds faded against the glory of the afternoon Sun, then turned towards Primrose and the others. He gestured and the puddles on the ground evaporated, leaving the Square dry again.


    "I apologize for taking matters into my own hands, Captain Aster." He walked back to the platform, holding out his hands. "It seems my trial has been delayed. I sincerely hope you understand."


    <hr>


    Slumbering Forest Over the Central Plains


    As Rei and Ruskru soared, the vast expanse of the Slumbering Forest''s verdant foliage sprawled to their left, a sea of trees that seemed to undulate like waves. The dense canopy drew intricate patterns of shadow and light, and the air carried whispers of pine and earth. Rei tore her eyes away from it ¡ª something rested in the Forest. She had felt its presence when they chased the pixiu.


    She did not want to wake it.


    Instead, she voiced her confusion. "Ruskru?" she called out.


    "Hmm?" Ruskru turned to her, his red sash whipping behind him in the wind.


    "I don''t understand," she half-shouted over the wind, then exerted her Domain in a small bubble around them, just enough for them to speak normally as they flew, but not large enough to alert the thing inside the Forest. "Why did you agree? We were so close!"


    "Opening Flangel the Wise''s Ring is important, but it was always an option for us to simply wait for the Prince to wake up."


    "But we don''t need to wait. You could have held the Whale in check," Rei protested, "and that Yao-ren was already injured during our chase. I could have overpowered him and taken the alchemist."


    "What do you mean, held him in check?"


    "Your Domain clash was equal," Rei replied. "Without a clear advantage, wouldn''t the two of you be holding each other in check?"


    "No, Rei. Ji is not reliant on his Domain to fight; did you not pay attention at all when you fought him? Our dear Commander has always been one to invade Domains."


    "What?" Rei was confused. The larger one spread their aura, the less they could protect themselves. Titled Ones either learned to spread their Domain wide for control over a space or pulled it in to cloak their bodies, the veil of aura allowing them to invade another''s Domain for close combat. "Then why does he have such a large Domain?"


    "Ji''s Domain is something the Prince forced him to learn, for better or worse. The range of his Domain is a natural byproduct of the sheer amount of aura he has. Did you never wonder about his Title? The Whale dives freely into another''s Domain, as deep as he wants. Holding his Domain in check is one thing, but that would do nothing to limit his invading your space. This is why the Prince reminds you to train your physical reinforcement. Never forget to keep your distance if you are ever unfortunate enough to fight him again."


    It struck Rei then; Ruskru, whose battle prowess was indisputably second only to the Prince''s, had stayed well out of arm¡¯s reach from the Whale. "Then why did you stay to speak with him?"


    "It was worth testing to see if Ji would restrain his strength in the City, but he seemed ready to fight without reservation. You would normally never see him pulling clouds because it disrupts rainfall. A fight between us¡­ even the Submerged Leviathan couldn''t ignore that. Though¡­" he paused, deep in thought. "I seriously considered taking his invitation until Ji threatened Crimson City. Have you never wondered why Ji has not made an appearance in the Empire since he left?"


    The question made Rei frown. The thought hadn''t occurred to her at all. "Isn''t it because he''s afraid of our Prince?"


    "No. We had an unspoken agreement, Ji and I. He would never attack the Empire, and I would never attack ZhiXia City." Ruskru flew forward. "There''s too many Cities of the Empire for both the Prince and I to defend, and Ji could attack any one of them. He could easily overpower any one of you and drown the Cities you defend before the Prince and I arrived. With the Prince in slumber, Ji reminded me that I cannot protect both the Prince and Crimson City at the same time."


    "...did Roxxa break your agreement?" Rei asked with a hint of unease.


    "I don''t know." Ruskru''s face went grim. "I sent four of you and imagined three of you would cover Kymja''s retreat once she secured the Prodigy. Not¡­ everything that led to this. This is why it''s been my hope that you and the others rise to a level where it doesn''t take four of you to barely steal a ring from a girl under his watch." She heard the admonishment in his voice. "We cannot afford to have any of you fight him individually, nor can we afford to keep four of you together at once."


    The ruined city of Techoria came into view, and they veered to one side, towards the Prince.


    "Does that mean you can never fight the Whale?" asked Rei, still thinking about what she had just learned.


    "Perhaps if I can borrow more than just your wind, Rei. Fighting Ji with his water is pointless, and I imagine I must have Desmi''s lightning if I intend to take him head-on. Maybe Desmi and Roxxa together, at the minimum." Ruskru fell silent for several moments before he continued, "I''ve thought about it for several decades now, the circumstances I would need in order to fight him with confidence."


    He pointed through the Forest, indicating a river below. It glittered in the afternoon Sun, wide enough that the trees on both riverbanks could not cover the sparkling waters with their foliage. The River Ash: undisputed proof of the Whale''s legendary battle with the Prince. "Do not forget that Ji fought the Prince and survived."


    They cleared the Slumbering Forest and sped up, no longer feeling its oppressive presence.


    "We can''t afford to take any chances while the Prince is in slumber and we have the other Free Cities to worry about. HaiFeng City''s reports that the Formosan Islands have decreased their trade exports is concerning, and I can only hope Desmi doesn''t get waylaid by any of those ''fortuitous love encounters'' he always seems to have. Not to mention Shoss'' report on the Northern Tribes; we don''t need a repeat of the Frozen Saint."


    "Yes," Rei nodded as they descended towards the large tent in the middle of a desolate plain. The sleeping Prince''s effects on the surroundings had begun to manifest. All of the grass and plants had begun to wither, creating a lifeless circle of dark brown bordering on black within half a league of the tent.


    "We''ll figure out what to do with the Ring later," Ruskru touched the ground and walked towards the tent, with Rei floating close behind. "Right now, Roxxa needs to recover and we need to figure out how concerned we need to be that the Twin Stars are hosting a moot. But something else has been on my mind, Rei."


    There''s more? Rei could never wrap her mind around how Ruskru kept so many thoughts in his head. "What is it?"


    They had taken several steps before Ruskru answered. "I couldn''t quite put my finger on it before, so I didn''t bring it up with any of you. But now I know what this feeling of¡­ wrongness is. You and I went to JiangXi as soon as Roxxa''s health was stabilized. And what do we find? The alchemist already heading towards ZhiXia City on the pixiu''s back."


    Ruskru lifted the tent''s flap but didn''t enter, then turned to Rei, his face serious. "We made the decision to go secure the alchemist with the barest of ideas whether it was even worth it. There was no proof he could undo Flangel''s Seal, but I decided it was worth the gamble to leave the Prince under Roxxa and Kymja''s watch. Sanctuary and the Dao had no reason to think we would do so, and I doubt there was any other pressing need to move the alchemist. We know the Prodigy is in Sanctuary."


    Rei nodded, understanding where Ruskru was leading the conversation. "But they acted to move the alchemist regardless. You think it was¡­?"


    "The Oracle''s vessel, yes. First your failure in JiangXi City, then Roxxa''s failure to kill him despite having all the advantage in ZhiXia City." Ruskru finally entered the tent, holding the flap for Rei. "And now you and I failed to get the alchemist. We''ve always been a step behind him, and I am beginning to find this¡­ irksome."

 Ch 66: Pieces

    The social contract is a fragile covenant between the individual and the collective. How selfish is it, then, that we take solace in any perceived victories when it comes at the loss of our fellow human beings?


    The flaws I saw in Oasis were neither lesser nor greater than the flaws I see in the Empire of the Sun, in the Free Cities, in the Northern Tribes and the Formosan Islands. The problems compound through time, exacerbated by human whims and dictated by a singular desire for more, at any cost.


    Doubt haunts my dreams. Can humans truly embrace the discipline necessary for any good political or social system to flourish? Nevertheless, I must push on. The endless pursuit of a perfect system is my atonement for creating the SunFlower.


    ¡ª Excerpt from the journal of Flangel the Wise


    <hr>


    Sanctuary


    "Nettie wonders why Molam isn''t at Master Ji''s trial today?" Nettie asked as she played a warrior piece, then shifted her archer by two hexagon spaces. "Does Molam not care about the result?"


    Molam smiled at Nettie as he took his turn, placing down two warrior pieces of his own. Both were within range of her archer, but the smile would make Nettie overthink about whether it was truly safe to take them. "Well, circumstances have changed."


    The news had spread fast when the Eclipse had appeared. Or, to be more specific, it had been unavoidable when the Sunless day was clearly visible even within Sanctuary. Many had recoiled from the voting booths, fleeing into the safety of Sanctuary, the Priestesses once again trying to manage thousands of panic-stricken civilians. Tensions had risen further when the Whale¡¯s Domain clashed with the Eclipse''s, and the Oracle herself had spoken several words to calm the crowd.


    Then the Eclipse and Tempest had left. With no one harmed or dead, and the only destruction a building that had already been ruined by the OutCast.


    "Molam seems very certain of the outcome." Nettie placed a horseman to keep his warriors in check. She hesitated, then moved her warrior piece sideways to contest his own.


    "I wouldn''t say ''certain,'' but I can say that this particular outcome would be hard to change," Molam said as he moved his warrior up a hexagon to threaten her cannon. "It takes a great deal of effort to change how someone feels. The moment they suspect you are trying to influence their feelings is the moment they pull back the other way. I wasn''t entirely sure what the people would vote for yesterday, but today''s vote should be overwhelmingly in our favor." An image of villagers grouped around a pyre for tribute came to Molam''s mind. He dismissed the memory and placed an alchemist near his warrior, making it costly for Nettie to capture either piece. "People are willing to overlook the dead when reminded about the importance of their own lives."


    His young opponent pondered him with big brown eyes. The earlier excited child''s look of playtime was momentarily replaced by a serious look reminiscent of his mentor''s. "Nettie thinks it could happen again."


    "It could," Molam agreed. "But then how would they blame Master Ji? He returned to the City''s custody yesterday. Anything that happens can hardly be pinned on him."


    Khalim could speak all he wanted of the uniform application of law, but what did that matter in practice? Laws were upheld by people, and people were easily led by their emotions. In accordance with the law, the Sharks were holding the trial again today, but Molam felt no need to act. The very same people who would have voted for Master Ji''s death had received a jarring reminder why the Oracle had asked him to be ZhiXia''s defending Titled One. In many ways, this was the ideal outcome; and they hadn¡¯t even needed to utilize the Great Sage''s Mirror.


    In Molam''s mind, the result had already been decided. All that needed to be done was to go through the motion of counting the votes. Nothing short of divine intervention would change these results, and the Gods hadn''t revealed themselves in over four centuries.


    HuaLang Chamber had worked fast to ensure the story of how the Whale of ZhiXia broke free of his bonds to save his people was told and retold around free food and drink. Primrose had played an especially crucial role, participating in conversations as a witness to the Whale''s heroism while she served alongside her Flower sisters. Madam Scarlette herself held a public concert with a flute, playing an improvised piece that supposedly captured the tense, suspenseful conversation between the Whale and the Eclipse that had resulted in the Eclipse and Tempest retreating.


    Molam wasn''t entirely sure how much of it was being played up, having been absent from the events, but he wasn''t against any embellishments.


    Even Shurra had made a brief visit to eat, scraping some of the leftovers into large bowls that she carried elsewhere. Molam guessed some dogs had feasted well last night, but still did not understand why Shurra had suddenly taken such an interest in feeding strays. Perhaps it was a Northern custom he did not know of?


    "Nettie isn''t sure what to do," Nettie huffed, bringing Molam out of his thoughts. The girl set down two pieces she had considered deploying, puffed out her cheeks, then sipped at her cup of juice. She pointed to his warrior and alchemist. "Nettie thinks Molam is preparing a trap."


    "Remember, you don''t always have to respond to my last actions if you don''t understand what I''m trying to achieve," Molam reminded her as he waited patiently for her to make her play. The girl frowned over the board, her eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration. "It''s perfectly fine to make a move that furthers your own goals instead."


    Nettie glowered at him, then picked up a cannon piece, tapping it against the table. She placed it behind her archer, then put an alchemist piece in her backline. "Nettie wants to know if Molam thinks all of the planning was for naught?"


    "For your last four turns? Yes; you''re spending a lot of time thinking about what I''m trying to do because you''re worried about what I could do. But when you play black, you have the advantage of going first. Even if it''s just by one action, you should be focused on staying ahead so you force me to respond, not use your lead to try and box me in." He placed down a horseman, then captured her warrior with his own.


    "Nettie meant the plan to save Master Ji."


    "Oh," Molam grinned despite the flat reproach in her voice. "Well, we had unexpected turns of good luck. Many were already inside Sanctuary when the Eclipse and the Tempest came; if a fight had broken out, a lot of lives would have been spared. So, while it wasn''t the original goal, I''m still glad we did it."


    Another voice spoke up. "That''s a very good outlook. Not all inventions end up serving the original use they were invented for. You would make a great alchemist."


    Molam looked up to see Kalle. The Northerner looked exhausted despite having slept throughout the morning. The prominent scar across his face seemed paler than usual, or perhaps it was because of his missing beard. "Kalle," he stood up and greeted the man with a handshake. "It''s good to see you again. And¡­" Molam raised an eyebrow, "you shaved?"


    The Northerner ran a hand over his clean-shaven face. "I, uh, panicked when the Priestess said I may be called to see the Oracle later. Does it look worse? I may have nicked myself with the blade."


    "Molam, it''s your turn," Nettie tapped impatiently on the board.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    "It may take me some time to get used to seeing you without a beard." Molam glanced down at the board and moved his warrior and alchemist, offering up his alchemist to Nettie. That should distract her for a moment. He turned back to Kalle, adding, "and I don''t think the Oracle would give a lot of thought to your appearance. I''m sorry for what you went through in getting here, but it was necessary."


    "Oh, don''t worry about that. I admit I didn''t understand at first when Head Priestess Cerelia came to me with an urgent message, telling me you wanted me to leave JiangXi City and head to ZhiXia City as soon as possible." Kalle looked down at the small orphanage seat, and tried to squat on it. He shifted in discomfort, readjusting his sitting position twice before standing back up. "Then the Tempest and the Eclipse found us as we were flying over the River Jiang, and that was terrifying. I''m glad GloomSire arrived to help fend them off."


    "How is he?" asked Molam.


    "GloomSire? He''s completely spent." Kalle shook his head, then added, "Right. I suppose you want more information." Molam grinned in approval as Kalle continued, "He was the one who decided we should fly over the Slumbering Forest. That made both the Tempest and the Eclipse hesitate, or else they would have easily caught up to us. But I suppose GloomSire knew how to navigate it best, having lived there for decades."


    "I''m glad to hear it worked out," Molam nodded, then looked down at the sound of a quick tap to see Nettie waiting for him. She hadn''t taken the bait. Instead, she had positioned two new pieces around his warrior. After a moment of consideration, Molam moved an archer into position to capture one, then moved his own alchemist further into her territory, splitting it off from his warrior. It would be interesting to see how long she could stay cautious before greed got the better of her.


    "Are we abandoning JiangXi, Molam?"


    "No?" Molam looked back up to Kalle. "We never needed to hold it."


    "Then why have me stay in JiangXi City at all? Weren''t you afraid of leaving JiangXi with no one leading it?"


    "Because it gave us an option to keep it," Molam looked down at the board. Nettie had finally abandoned caution and captured his alchemist piece with a backline horseman. "Bringing you back doesn''t mean we''re returning JiangXi to the Empire. As for the lack of leadership, Sanctuary has already sent four pairs of Priestesses to JiangXi to help Head Priestess Cerelia keep the City from devolving into chaos. She will have the Oracle''s full authority, so the rest of the Dao will be able to get back to their lives."


    Nettie''s horseman was easy pickings for his archer, then he deployed an assassin to the space it once occupied. Nettie would most likely give it a wide berth and give up on his archer, but it would provide him an important route into her backline.


    Molam continued. "I briefly considered the possibility of some upstart attempting a power grab, but no one in JiangXi should be stupid enough to be caught holding a position of power in case the Empire decides to retake JiangXi. And if there are¡­ I''m certain Head Priestess Cerelia will be happy to not need to be the one to speak to whichever Titled One arrives."


    His turn over, Molam looked back up. "For us, there''s more pressing matters. The Dao has a destination, and now it''s just a matter of finding the way. We need to prepare if we''re going to kill the Empire''s Prince."


    Kalle frowned, then stared at Molam. "Are you still drunk?"


    "I didn''t drink at all," Molam replied lightly. "Mursa Shang served good tea at his caravan."


    The Northerner raised an eyebrow. "No wonder I couldn''t find you. And¡­ what makes you think it''s possible? To kill the Bloody Prince, I mean."


    "The Oracle says there''s no better chance than while he recovers," Molam watched as Nettie wavered between her Spear and Shield and the rest of her pieces. Playing a Titled Piece would cost both of her actions. In the end, she settled on her Shield, placing it on the board in front of three other pieces. Nodding to herself, she looked up at Molam before pulling her hand away. The Shield would nullify his archers and cannon. "The Prince has yet to wake up. I''m sure both of you would like to make him answer for marching on Techoria."


    "Yes, but this is the Bloody Prince we''re talking about. Butcher of Kamisukawa and Burner of Rivers?" Kalle crossed his arms, unconvinced. "I thought your plan would be something similar to JiangXi. We take advantage of the Empire''s current distraction of protecting their Prince to cut them off of Cities. I''m sure Primrose would like to free Teljumaya, and the Northern Tribes have always harried Crescent City."


    "It won''t be enough," Molam answered, capturing one of Nettie''s backline archers with his warrior, then moving a horseman into her backline to threaten the pieces behind her Shield. His handicap against her was that he couldn¡¯t use Titled Pieces, and he needed to win before hers took over the game. "Say we manage to raise a relevant force, win all battles, and somehow cut off the Empire''s trade and supply routes in four Cities ¡ª Teljumaya, Crescent City, and let''s throw in Exabell and Falysos just for the sake of it. So lumber, salt, ore, and half their rice production. But then what? The Empire most likely has enough in storage to weather at least half a decade of unexpected disruptions. The Oracle says the Prince will fully recover in two years. We can''t hold any of those Cities when the Empire''s Titled Ones are able to move freely. That means we need to use these two years to make sure he never wakes up."


    Molam paused to take a sip of tea before continuing. "There is a likelihood that the Prince extracted the SunFlower''s design from Master Flangel, and even without that, the Empire now has Master Flangel''s Ring." Molam looked up at Kalle, meeting his light blue eyes as Nettie pondered. The alchemist seemed queasy, but whether from the thought of the Prince''s attack on Techoria or something else, Molam couldn''t say. "Do you understand? If we don''t kill the Prince before then, the Empire of the Sun will have the SunFlower. I don''t understand how he''s going to use it, but he believes it is necessary for him to climb the Stairs. And we cannot allow that, Kalle."


    Kalle fell silent as Nettie began her turn, moving her archer out of range of Molam''s horseman. As she mulled over her second action, Kalle spoke softly, "And how do you propose we kill the Bloody Prince?"


    "Jade," Molam said simply. "The Prince is being protected by at least two of the Empire''s Titled Ones. We''ll need to forcibly bring them down and neutralize any of the Prince''s abilities in order to kill him."


    Kalle almost frowned, then seemed to change his expression to one of polite confusion. "You do understand a fist-sized piece of processed jade is enough for a family to live comfortably for a decade or more? Techoria only had enough jade to allocate a pebble the size of a thumb to its most prestigious Master Alchemists each year. Moreover, the size of the jade needs to be proportional with the aura you''re trying to affect. How would you source enough jade to hold down not just two Titled Ones, but also the Bloody Prince himself?"


    "The place where it''s processed. Oasis."


    "GrandFather said it was once his home," Nettie chimed in as she captured Molam''s warrior with a horseman, moving up her attack forces.


    "You want to go to Oasis?" Kalle asked with a tone of incredulity. "Nobody goes to Oasis besides the mursashu, and for good reason, no? I''ve heard dehydration is a painful way to go. Unless you¡­ are going to ask Mursa Shang?"


    "We''ll have Master Ji to help us in getting through the Endless Sands," Molam replied. "Water is his specialty, which should make the journey simple enough. He can do what no other auramancer can. I don''t want to know how much Mursa Shang would charge me to go to Oasis."


    He placed a new warrior in Nettie''s backline, then moved up his assassin from earlier, fulfilling the condition of four of his pieces in her backline. "You''ve been isolated," he declared to Nettie. If she could not capture any of his four pieces on her backline during her next turn, she would lose.


    The girl leaned forward in shock, staring at the board. She looked up at Molam. "When?!"


    "You thought my assassin piece could be ignored so long as it couldn''t capture your pieces, but its other use was to give me a way to invade your backline once you moved your pieces to safety," Molam explained, pointing to the relevant sections of the board. "See here, how you took an extra turn to gain this foothold so you could play your Shield with confidence? That moved you away from your backline."


    Nettie frowned. "Molam was not planning on capturing my Titled Pieces?"


    "No, that''s simply what I made you think I wanted. But you didn''t play them early because you wanted to prevent me from winning by capturing two of your Titled Pieces, so I changed tactics to invade your backline once it became clear you were trying to play them safely."


    "Poopy," Nettie touched the pieces closest to her backline, looking for a way to save her board. Molam left the girl to her analysis, having already determined she would be a step behind no matter which piece she moved.


    Priestess Komura and Shantayla walked up to them, and Molam stood up to greet them. "Priestess Komura. Priestess Shantayla. I take it the verdict is in?"


    "Yes. As I''m sure you all expected, the Whale of ZhiXia was found not guilty of criminal negligence and has been released from custody. He is heading to the Inner Sanctum as we speak, and the Oracle has requested you all be part of the conversation."

 Ch 67: A Change of Plans

    Life is similar to construction.


    You have plans for a building to house some sick people. Having discovered the right location, you source the correct materials. You find the right workers.


    You have it all built in your mind. Orderly and idealized. You know what color to paint it and what decorations would complement it.


    Then the problems arise. Poor weather ruins the building period. An overseer becomes sick, and during that time the construction work suffers several setbacks. Some of the materials were not of the quality promised, resulting in poor foundations.


    But the building must be built. The sick need shelter. Middling adequacy becomes the theme because perfection only serves to hinder progress.


    And so it goes.


    ¡ª Excerpt from Meditations, by the Red Emperor


    <hr>


    In front of the Inner Sanctum


    Priestess Komura stopped at the entrance, then turned to Molam, tutting at his disheveled state from playing with several of the orphans. "She wishes to speak to you first. Alone," she emphasized as she smoothed wrinkles from his shirt. "Priestess Shantayla, make sure the back of his head doesn''t look like a dove''s nest."


    "I understand." Molam responded to Priestess Komura. He gave Kalle and Nettie an apologetic look as he allowed Priestess Komura to fuss at his clothes while Priestess Shantayla gingerly dragged two fingers through his hair.


    "Don''t worry about me," said Kalle, who seemed unable to hide his amusement at the Priestess'' actions. "I''ll need some time to collect my thoughts regardless. It''s my first time meeting her myself," he added, hurriedly running a hand over his own hair. "I never thought I''d meet the legendary Oracle. How do I look?"


    "Your hair is short and I can''t get used to you without a beard,," Molam gave Kalle a wink. "Well, I doubt the Oracle cares about presentability."


    "Nettie thinks you look tall and fine, Kalle."


    The alchemist looked down at Nettie, who was walking around his legs in a circle, staring up at him. He smiled from cheek to cheek, the effect stretching his scar. "Thank you, Nettie. That''s very kind of you."


    "There is nothing lost from looking your best, especially when you meet someone," Priestess Komura lectured, pinching Molam''s ear so he would stay still. She tutted again at the state of his clothes; some of the dirt streaks on his sleeves and pants could not be shaken off. "Perhaps next time save the play-wrestling with the children for after an important meeting."


    The two Priestesses stepped back when they deemed him sufficiently presentable. Priestess Komura nodded to herself at her handiwork. "We should get you a set of white robes for when you see the Oracle," she muttered to herself.


    "White would be ruined on me," Molam responded, stepping quickly to the door that led to the Inner Sanctum, lest Priestess Komura''s aging yet keen eyes find something else to be less than barely acceptable. "Thank you, Priestess Komura, Priestess Shantayla." The younger Priestess inclined her head in response. "I wouldn''t want to keep the Oracle waiting."


    The older Priestess seemed to disapprove, but nodded her head. "Go. We will know when it is time to let the others in."


    Kalle, who had picked Nettie up onto his shoulder, whistled in surprise when Molam opened the door to reveal the pitch black of the Inner Sanctum. Molam grinned at the alchemist, who had immediately stepped forward with a look of awe on his face to observe the way light seemed to stop at the doorway, then entered the darkness alone.


    This time, Molam strode forward without fear regardless of the pressing silence. He blinked, but saw no change in black. For a brief moment he resisted the urge to hold out his hand, telling himself that nothing should have changed in the Inner Sanctum''s layout. But then, what if?


    Molam held up a hand, feeling his way forward through the darkness, sliding his feet forward as a precaution against tripping.


    "I know you know I''m here," he spoke aloud as he wandered forward, swaying his hand in front of him and touching nothing. "Must we do this each time? Will it be white or orange-red?"


    His voice rang out into the darkness with only its echo for an answer. The silence pressed in, and Molam found himself stepping heavily forward just so he could hear his footsteps.


    Then, the Oracle''s echoless voice came out of the gloom. "Most people cannot stand formless darkness for a long period of time. The mind is a curious thing. It knows that there is nothing else currently in the vicinity that offers danger."


    A pause, but the way she ended her sentence did not permit him to speak. "But as it is with life, what was certain is somehow not always so. A hundred breaths later in the darkness and the mind begins to imagine dangers and enemies where once it had the certainty of safety. When left to itself, the mind often loses its understanding of what is and is not real. Reality, therefore, exists to prove itself ¡ª and nothing more."


    Molam hadn''t expected what seemed to be the Oracle''s personal observation. Nor was he prepared to respond to¡­ whatever she had just said. After a moment of mulling over her words, he eventually replied, "I believe I know what you''re speaking of. Exabell City is famous for using black isolation cells as a form of punishment. I think many people are afraid of being alone with their thoughts."


    He paused, unsure if he was being tested or whether the Oracle''s unprompted observation had some other meaning. "Why the sudden contemplation? Are you losing your grip on reality?"


    "Reality is subjective. The Inner Sanctum separates me from the world in order for me to maintain objectivity over the centuries. Those of us who suffer eternity need a way to maintain our sense of self through the persistent erosion of time." White aura lit the Inner Sanctum and Molam froze at the image of the Oracle''s masked face looking at him. The dragon-faced mask seemed relaxed, though Molam was no expert on draconic facial expressions ¡ª much less carved and painted ones. "Perhaps from vanity, selfishness, or fear. We all do it, and my recent exit reminded me of this. Do you understand?"


    Molam stepped onto the dais, nodding with understanding. The Oracle''s words had been indirect, but he heard the warning. "So then. The others that have lived for a long time ¡ª the Lord of Sands and Chieftess of the Formosan Islands ¡ª what should I be aware of with them?"


    "Only that you should tread carefully with your words when speaking to someone with almost a millennium of experience. Fiery One and I may tolerate your wanton displays of irreverence, but it would not do for you to carry that into a meeting with others."


    Molam blinked and paused, unsure if he was being chastised. "Thank you for the warning. I''ll keep it in mind when I meet the Lord of Sands. Where is Fiery One?" he asked, looking around the Inner Sanctum for a hint of orange. "I don''t see them."


    "Our spirit friend has left to pursue the four winds."


    Ah. The pieces fell together in his mind; it seemed obvious now that the Oracle had explained it. The phoenix had mentioned something about gathering the other greater spirits; that was why it had asked Molam to look out for Flowing One. Molam stepped past the ring of statues of the Gods, bringing his arm guard in front of him, feeling for the feather within. "In search of another spirit without telling me?"


    "This could not wait, and you have had other problems to worry about. I was to tell you that the feather entrusted to you this time is specifically from its tail plumage, and that the feather would rejuvenate its store of aura whenever you entered the Inner Sanctum."


    The spirit''s disappearance had been completely unexpected and he found himself surprised at the way he felt. Fiery One just¡­ left? Without telling Molam directly? For some reason he missed its nagging, self-aggrandizing remarks. "I suppose this is where I am to express my deepest, heartfelt gratitude?" Molam asked in a wry tone. "Does living too long mean you and the greater spirits forget how to bid a proper goodbye as well?"


    The dragon mask tilted slightly downwards, giving the etched expression a darker look. She shook out a hand from a sleeve, then raised a hand to caress the air with a finger. "Perhaps you should take my warning to heart. Would it help to imagine you are speaking to my sister instead?"The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    A chill ran up Molam''s throat¡ª he tucked his head instinctively, looking for what couldn''t possibly be there. He immediately looked back up; the Oracle was still far away, yet the sensation of her finger on his throat lingered. "I¡­ understand," Molam replied carefully. "I will speak to the Lord of Sands with the same respect I would give the Submerged Leviathan."


    "As you should," the Oracle said, lowering her hand back into its sleeve. "Is there anything else you would like to ask or discuss while I grant you a private audience?"


    Molam swallowed, rubbing the back of a knuckle across his throat. "I¡­ can''t think of anything specific right now."


    "Then it is time to open this conversation to the others." The Oracle''s aura flickered and Molam waited, still rubbing at his throat. A moment later the door to the Inner Sanctum opened again.


    Nettie ran in first, zooming around the statues of the Gods, perhaps as a result of having had too much juice. She was followed by Kalle, who looked around wildly with awe. Coming up behind them was Master Ji, flanked by the two Priestesses who stood to the side, their hands clasped in front of them, bowing towards the Oracle.


    "You may speak, Molam," the Oracle declared.


    Molam cleared his throat as several pairs of eyes met his. "Thank you for coming. Particularly you, Master Ji, so soon after your trial. Congratulations on being acquitted, actually. That makes things easier for us. I''ve been planning to have you join us to reach Oasis, and ¡ª"


    The Whale held out his hand, stopping Molam mid-sentence.


    "Yes, Master Ji?"


    "I have decided I cannot go with you to Oasis," Master Ji told Molam.


    Molam blinked, his mind racing with the possible reasons why. An order from the Oracle? No, she was in agreement before, and she would have told me earlier if she had changed her mind. Ah, he "decided," so it must be a personal choice. But what could have¡­? There could only be one reason Molam could think of. "I see. It must have something to do with the Eclipse."


    The Whale nodded. "Yes. He has shown a willingness to enter ZhiXia City. The circumstances have changed."


    Molam bit the inside of his cheek. He fully understood Master Ji''s new unwillingness to leave ZhiXia City undefended, but he had made his plans assuming Master Ji would be with them for Oasis. Getting there, for one thing. And though he''d never met the Lord of Sands, a former member of the Nine Lords and Monarch of the Six Crowns would be difficult to convince without having the Whale of ZhiXia by his side.


    "Molam was hoping you''d come with us, Master Ji," Nettie spoke up, her excited voice echoing throughout the Inner Sanctum. "Nettie would like to see Oasis with you."


    "Nettie," Molam said, keeping his voice as gentle as possible. "If Master Ji cannot leave ZhiXia City, then you must stay too."


    "What? Whyyyyy?" the girl stamped a foot, pressing her hands to her hips as she stared at Molam defiantly. "Nettie does not understand."


    Molam knelt down on one knee, patting Nettie on the shoulder. "Taking you to Oasis will be dangerous." The girl met Molam''s gaze with her large brown eyes and a pouting frown. "The Empire of the Sun has set their eyes on you, which means you need to be protected. As we''ve already seen, only Master Ji could possibly protect you. Since Master Ji has decided to stay here, this is a good place where you can really¡­ settle down and not need to worry about your safety."


    She lifted a foot as though to stamp it, but put it down quietly. "Nettie dislikes logical arguments that go against what Nettie wants."


    Molam smiled, then snorted despite himself. The Prodigy indeed. But also a child. "I hope Nettie understands the logic?"


    "Nettie does." She hung her head, then puffed out her cheeks. "Nettie agrees, but hates it."


    "And don''t blame Master Ji either. His decision is rooted in his responsibilities, and I''m certain he didn''t want to disappoint you either," Molam nodded to the Whale, who nodded back in turn, a look of gratitude on his face. "I''m quite certain Master Ji will make it up to you while we get other things sorted out. In the meantime, just enjoy your life as you see fit. You''ll get to see Oasis one day, Nettie."


    The girl looked at him again with her big brown eyes. "You promise?"


    "I¡­" Molam hesitated, but Master Ji spoke up.


    "I promise," the Whale knelt down like Molam and held out his little finger to the girl. The girl stepped forward and attempted to wrap her little finger around the Whale''s, but realized their size difference and grabbed the finger with her hand, then shook it up and down twice.


    "Nettie takes promises seriously," the girl warned.


    "I know," Master Ji responded simply.


    "Good!"


    Molam smiled at the girl''s smile, then looked up towards Priestess Komura. "I don''t want HuaLang Chamber or the Sharks to have any undue contact with Nettie. Let her be free to live her life a little bit, not just as the Prodigy."


    The Priestess nodded. "It can be done."


    A tug on his sleeve bade Molam look back down. Nettie beckoned and he lowered his ear, to which the girl whispered, "Just in case Nettie doesn''t see big sister Primrose again, please tell Primrose the Mirror is complicated but simple: it reflects what you need to see."


    "What?" Molam raised his eyebrow, waiting for more information.


    "Primrose will understand," Nettie replied with a frown. It was the kind of frown that spoke of someone asking too many questions, but it looked particularly jarring on her young face.


    "So¡­ that''s it then?" asked Kalle, a hint of relief in his voice. "No more going to Oasis?"


    "No, we still need to go. It''s just become much, much harder." Molam stood up slowly, thinking through what he needed. No more Master Ji, no more Prodigy. What options did he have for reaching Oasis and securing a large amount of jade? "Oracle," he began slowly, "If I speak to Mursa Shang about commissioning a wagon to Oasis, will Sanctuary help? I can only imagine the exorbitant fee he''ll ¡ª"


    "You will have my full backing."


    Molam masked his surprise. "Full, hmm?" he thought aloud, mind already racing over the implications. Perhaps buying his way to Oasis wasn''t impossible after all. "That''s reassuring. Let''s see if the Mursa will keep the price reasonable."


    <hr>


    ZhiXia City


    They left the Inner Sanctum, with Master Ji volunteering to walk with Nettie and the two Priestesses back to the orphanage. Molam hugged the girl, promising to return to play dragon chess with her before he left the City. Then he left Sanctuary with Kalle, heading straight for the side entrance closest to Mursa Shang''s caravan.


    "Why are we trying to go so quickly?" asked Kalle as they walked. "Don''t we have two years before the Bloody Prince wakes up? Doesn''t that give us a chance to think about a plan that doesn''t involve going to Oasis?"


    "I understand your hesitation, Kalle, but this is important. But we have to consider: what if the Prince wakes up before then?" Molam asked, gazing straight ahead as he walked purposefully towards the caravan.


    "What? How? You said the Oracle said ¡ª"


    "Doesn''t matter," Molam shook his head, seeing the line of wagons in front. "What if he wakes up before then? I''m not prepared to risk that. Are you?"


    "No," came Kalle''s eventual answer. His longer strides easily kept up with Molam. "This is our best chance."


    "Yes. The faster we go about this, the less chance the Empire has of surprising us," Molam stepped around the caravan circle, looking for his way in. "Staying ahead is an important advantage. Never assume the opponent will act according to your wishes. Resting is ¡ª" he paused just as he found the gap intended to be the entrance, seeing the man waiting for them.


    "Molam! And Kalle too! I''ve been expecting you," Mursa Shang waved cheerfully at them from the gap between the wagons, a glint in his eye. The man wore an elegant black robe trimmed with fur, a series of golden runes woven straight into the fabric. "I''ve heard you''re going to Oasis. Will Kalle be joining?"


    Molam nudged Kalle''s leg with his own before the alchemist could say anything, keeping the man quiet. "Of course you heard," Molam muttered, unsure if he had adequately masked his surprise. The Mursa wasn''t asking ¡ª he already knew. "Who is your source?"


    "I could tell you, but I don''t think I could stomach that loss," the Mursa smiled. "If all our secrets are stripped bare, how much are we really worth?" He didn''t wait for an answer, gesturing into the makeshift enclosure made of wagons. "Shall we?"


    Molam did not like that look. Confidence backed by the knowledge that one had the upper hand. It was enough to make him want to walk away immediately, but he had rushed here so quickly in order to avoid this very problem. And so Molam had a dilemma:


    Should he leave now and hope he could gather more information? But what could he prepare? The Oracle''s backing could only mean so much when it came to a battle of information. Moreover, leaving to prepare would only give the Mursa more time to prepare as well, while proving that Molam had arrived without full confidence.


    Should he step forward to the negotiation table? That seemed dangerous as well; Mursa Shang was only waiting for them because he believed he had the upper hand. There could be no other reason for the man to reveal he was ready to sit down at the table.


    Molam stepped forward. "I suppose you have a table prepared?" he asked idly, hoping the tone of voice sounded more casual than it did in his head.


    "Of course," Mursa Shang winked at him, then shifted to the side with a beckoning gesture.


    "Come sit with us, Kalle," said Molam under his breath, walking into the ring of wagons. "The Mursa will undoubtedly have a great selection of drinks to offer."


    "I''m happy you accepted," said the Mursa as he led them within. "A part of me wondered if you would defer."


    Of course you did, thought Molam. You would have been happy to have more time given you smell a deal. He kept his face straight and expressionless, hoping Kalle knew enough to stay silent and not give away any information. Molam was certain this was the best move possible. Or, he hoped it was, given that he no longer had the element of surprise.


    Not when the Mursa had moved first.

 Ch 68: Negotiations

    One, two, three, four,


    Mursa knocking at your door.


    Five, six, seven, eight,


    If he''s selling you''re too late.


    ¡ª Part of a children''s rhyme. Popular in the Empire of the Sun and the Free Cities.


    <hr>


    ZhiXia City, Mursa Shang''s Caravan


    "Would you like some tea before we sit down?" Mursa Shang asked as he led Molam and Kalle to a large tent in the middle of the caravan. "I also have a box of fresh pastries from the bakery around the corner. The only one still in operation, given the circumstances of the past¡­ week."


    "Not for me, thank you," Molam shook his head. He knew that bakery, and who had previously owned it. He couldn''t bear to eat the reminders. Then, It''s only been a week? he realized with surprise as he counted in his head. The Festival of the Hero had started¡­ eight days ago. So the Empire had attacked five days ago, the Whale had been arrested four days ago, and the Eclipse had chased Kalle here just yesterday? "Tea would be nice. Do you have tieguanyin?"


    "And you, Kalle?"


    "Do you have any liquor?" The alchemist asked eagerly.


    "We''ll see what we have." The Mursa signaled to Jyuni, "A pot of tieguanyin, and see if we have anything from the Isles or Oasis." His apprentice nodded and disappeared behind one of the caravans. "You have expensive tastes, Molam."


    "If you think so, then I hope I''m not served the leftover leaves," Molam replied. He was still thinking, distracted by the thought of how much everything had changed. Eight days. Eight short days since he¡¯d come back down the Stairs. So much had happened. To think he had spent over ten days in the Castle¡­ reading.


    "Well then, gentlemen," the Mursa gestured to a small table. "Have a seat. Oh, yes, Kalle, the bigger chair must be for you. Jyuni is always very on top of things; she must have added it the moment she saw you coming in."


    Molam sat on his chair, the one facing Mursa Shang directly. The table had already been laid out with parchment, ink, and a brush ¡ª the customary setup for the mursashu whenever deals were brokered.


    Something creaked, then snapped behind him. Molam turned to see Kalle getting up from his chair, kneeling down to inspect it.


    "Ah. Jyuni must have forgotten to check if it was in perfect working condition," Mursa Shang stood up, reaching for the tent flap. "I''ll have one of my people get another ¡ª"


    "It''s fine, I can fix it," Kalle had already pulled out a thin, long rod from his clothes. He twisted the end and what looked like a toolhead popped out. "You can treat it as a bit of free service. Molam, the light?"


    Molam almost laughed at how Kalle thought offering to fix the chair he had broken would give them an edge in negotiations, then gave Mursa Shang an apologetic look as he brought the lantern over to Kalle, who was peering under the chair. "Kalle enjoys fixing things, so don''t mind him."


    The Mursa took it in stride. "We all have hobbies, I suppose. Ah, Jyuni ¡ª just in time."


    The black-haired woman walked in with a large tray bearing a teapot, two small cups, a jug, and a larger cup. She set the teapot and small cups on the table for the two of them, then set the jug and cup on a smaller table near Kalle¡¯s seat.


    "Please take care not to knock these over," she warned Kalle in a firm voice, then walked over to stand behind the Mursa. Molam stifled the urge to smile; if she was confused by Kalle kneeling on the floor inspecting his chair by lantern-light, she did not show it.


    "I hope you don''t mind that my apprentice joins us for our little discussion," Mursa Shang said as he poured. The soothing scent of tieguanyin filled the room. "I think she''ll learn much from watching you extract what you can from my poor caravan."


    "That''s high praise, coming from you," Molam accepted the cup. "Far be it from me to tell you how to teach your apprentice, but I didn''t know you made it a habit of showing your successor how you bully others into a sale."


    "How sharp your accusation! Do you mean to wound me already?" Mursa Shang moved on to pouring the second cup, presumably for himself. "We never bully customers."


    "Am I a customer?" Molam raised an eyebrow. "I was under the impression we had an alliance."


    The Mursa smiled over his cup. "We have a pact of neutrality, not necessarily an alliance. And I understand you owe me favorable terms for trade and commerce, no?"


    He remembered, Molam thought, but he had expected that. "I agreed to give favorable terms for trade and commerce with regards to matters reserved for how the Dao would run any Cities it controls. The Dao has no Cities right now."


    "That''s certainly one way to look at it," Mursa Shang sipped at his tea, then leaned back and winked at Jyuni. "I told you he would wiggle his way out of that one."


    Jyuni nodded her head once. "Very astute, Mursa."


    A small bang, followed by a hissed "Eshhhhhhhhh-!" as Kalle clambered to his feet, rubbing the back of his head. Molam gave the Mursa another apologetic look as Kalle touched the injured area, muttering incomprehensibly under his breath.


    "This is why we don''t design things with sharp edges!" Kalle grunted, pouring himself a large amount of what was in the jug and downing the cup in one gulp. "Ahhhhh, moon wine?"


    "Our last casket," Jyuni nodded.


    "Our last one?" Mursa Shang asked, almost alarmed. "Then why ¡ª oh, nevermind."


    Kalle refilled his cup, now sitting comfortably. It did not creak. He smiled proudly at Molam, shifting himself around several times to demonstrate its sturdiness. "Fixed," he declared.


    "Well done. Now enjoy your wine," Molam replied, picking up the lantern and placing it back on the table. "And be careful you don''t injure your head again, or we''ll have to fix that too."


    "I''m going to assume that''s not an insult," the alchemist replied lightly, winking at Molam.


    "Insults only matter if you believe them to be true," Mursa Shang commented. "The two of you have a wonderful friendship."


    Molam blinked as Kalle''s hand clapped his shoulder. "Friendship?" the alchemist teased. "What sort of friend romps off to another City without you and leaves you with all the administrative and clerical work? And without pay too!"


    "Oh, I''ve had similar experiences with the other two Mursa, believe me." Mursa Shang shook his head, giving Jyuni a knowing look. "Mursa Khan''s actions always leave work for me. I don''t think he fully realizes that most people see all of us mursashu as one people. Mursa Allyce, on the other hand¡­" he shrugged, "is another matter entirely. But in the end, we''re all Mursa, which gives us a bond far more than kinship."


    "Right, right?" added Kalle, nodding in agreement. "I think I''ve saved Molam''s life at least twice now. In fact, after the Liberation of JiangXi, he had an injury where he couldn''t ¡ª"


    Molam flicked the rim of Kalle''s cup, sending a light ping throughout the tent. "Kalle," he spoke gently, turning around to give the alchemist a hard stare that the two mursashu couldn''t see. "The proper way to enjoy moon wine is by contemplating the moon."


    Kalle frowned, "But it''s just the evening, and I think today is a moonless night? I ¡ª" He noticed Molam''s glare, then swallowed. "I believe it''s important to practice imagining the moon too."


    It was such a poor excuse for a tangent on Kalle''s part that Molam laughed. Remembering where he was, he choked his laughter into a light cough and an understanding wink so Kalle wouldn''t feel too bad about the gaffe. Anything was better than Kalle speaking of things the Mursa did not need to know. Molam had no doubt it was unintentional, but it had been dangerously close.


    Instead, he turned and offered a smile of apology to the Mursa, "I apologize for my¡­ friend." The word felt strange coming from him, but it would pay to agree with the Mursa on matters of little consequence. "Kalle tends to babble on about alchemy matters when drinking. It¡¯s incoherent to the rest of us at the best of times even without having just suffered a small head injury. I wouldn''t want to cause undue confusion before we actually discuss¡­" Molam paused, meeting Mursa Shang''s gaze, "what we came here to discuss: passage to Oasis."


    The Mursa peered back at him, deep in contemplation, before picking up the teapot and refilling their cups. Setting down the pot, he turned to Jyuni and said, "You would do well to learn from what he just did, Jyuni. The smooth way he took control of the conversation and brought it back towards his own goal; you normally wouldn''t even think to look for it." He looked back at Molam, a twinkle in his eyes. "I''m impressed. I would not have thought to utilize the head injury so soon. No wonder you take your turns so quickly in dragon chess."


    Molam sipped from his cup. "I have no idea what you''re referring to."


    The Mursa turned to Jyuni again, pointing at Molam. "And that, the follow up. Even when you inherit my Sight, it''s just ambiguous enough that his aura doesn''t ripple with lies. Take note ¡ª his own aura is covered by the Oracle¡¯s white, but the imprinted aura reflects its bearer''s state of mind just the same. This is why I had you join me; there''s always more to learn, Jyuni."


    Molam said nothing, only wondering if he could ask the Oracle to make the aura she lent him not mimic the telltale signs of lying. It would be extremely useful.


    "Of course, Mursa." The woman bowed her head. "I''ll do my best to pay attention this time. I can already tell it won''t be like last night, when you had me watch you flirt with Madam Scarlette."


    "That was not flirting," the Mursa protested. "She''s also a master of conversation."


    "I see," Jyuni replied, then she looked at Molam. "Please do not lead my Mursa on; his heart breaks easily."


    "Oh Jyuni," Mursa Shang sighed with exasperation. "I hope your own successor gives you half as much lip."


    "You were the one who asked me to express myself more, Mursa," Jyuni replied with wide, innocent eyes.


    "Tsk tsk tsk," Mursa Shang shook his head, giving Molam a glance of resignation. "Sometimes you get what you want but not in the way you wanted it, hm?"


    "''Such is the daunting process of negotiating with life,''" Molam quoted.


    The Mursa''s eyebrows rose. "I see you''ve read Mursa Diyah''s journal."


    "Mursa Khan had a copy. I borrowed it from him when I traveled with him to Oasis."


    "I''m surprised he hasn''t lost it," the Mursa replied thoughtfully. Then, "And how much did he charge you for passage to Oasis?"


    Molam raised an eyebrow. The Mursa had asked in such a straightforward and offhand manner, despite it being an obvious play for important information. "I don''t think I''m at liberty to say without damaging our mutual goodwill. It may embarrass him."


    The Mursa appraised Molam silently, then refilled his cup. He offered to refill Molam''s, but Molam shook his head. Shrugging, the Mursa set down the teapot, studied Molam once more, then began, "There''s a problem in front of me, Molam. You see¡­ while I understand when Oasians pay me a handsome sum to bring them out of the Endless Sands, I''ve never had someone ask me to bring them in."


    "There''s a first time for everything," said Molam. "And I''m quite certain you found a way to profit."


    "Oh, quite certainly. But that means the value of what you want is relatively¡­ undetermined." The Mursa tapped the side of his cup as though deep in thought, then added, "But then, the rules of supply and demand come to mind, do they not? You want something, and you''re here because I''m the only one who can provide it. Somewhat similar to our meeting in JiangXi, except the tables have turned, hm?"


    So that''s his game. "Don''t be hasty. I seem to recall you being very confident at the beginning of that conversation as well," Molam warned, but his heart sank. The Mursa''s confidence was too brazen and the direction of this conversation seemed too far in his favor. What was he missing? Did the Mursa know too much already? But how? "I''m just here to know the price."


    "Is that so?" asked the Mursa, "Then I suppose I should know a few things first. How many people are you bringing to Oasis?"


    "What is the maximum you can bring?" Molam asked in return.


    Mursa Shang tapped a finger against the table, then replied, "Three, including you."


    He didn''t ask me how many I can pay for, observed Molam. "Why only three?"


    "Three, at most," Mursa Shang said firmly. "Because I have no other space."


    Three people. That severely limited things. Or, the Mursa wanted to limit how much help Molam could bring. Molam gave the Mursa a knowing look, "I thought it was standard practice for a Mursa to consider the value of replacing wagon space. Is there a price for the space you would sell at?"


    "You learned much during your time with Mursa Khan''s caravan," the Mursa smiled wanly. "That''s true ¡ª but the value of that space has gone up. As a matter of fact, I am not selling you those three spaces I am willing to part with. I am proposing¡­ a trade."


    Molam paused, taking an extra moment to understand what he¡¯d just heard. The Oracle had promised him her backing, but Sanctuary''s funds would prove meaningless if the mursashu wanted something else. "And¡­ why is coin not enough?"


    "Because of two things," Mursa Shang held up two fingers. "One," he wagged his index finger, "Is that the wagon space is for critical inventory that I need to bring to Oasis. So it is not a matter of price, but of opportunity cost. Unless you have a way of creating more space for what I intend to bring, you will not get more space out of me. And two," he wagged his middle finger, "Is that the only way I will give you passage to Oasis is if you help me cleanse and restore Mur."


    "Restore Mur?"


    "Yes."


    "Now you have me all confused," Molam pondered aloud, gazing at his tea. Restore Mur? What did that even entail? "Revealing what you want is a dangerous position to be in, then you ask for something that even Mursa Diyah could not do. This is worth far more than a place for three guests in your caravan."


    "I have no qualms revealing this to you at all," Mursa Khan waved a careless hand. The various gemstones embedded in his rings glittered in the lamplight. "The three Mursa have determined it is time to restore our ancestral home, and that is why the cargo space is critical. Our three caravans will bring as much as possible to rebuild our Lost City after it''s been cleansed. As you can imagine, this endeavor will realistically prevent most of us from taking another trade route for some time."


    That makes sense. Molam thought, but he saw the flaw. "And you require my help. Otherwise, you wouldn''t be taking anyone with you."


    The Mursa stroked his trimmed beard. "As sharp as I expected. And now you understand why I am limiting you to three spots while refusing to take coin."


    My help. Molam bit the inside of his cheek; how could he help? It must be related to what the Oracle had told the Mursa ¡ª but what had she told him? He resisted the urge to sigh about his oversight; why hadn''t he thought about asking the Oracle before he came here? That would have been useful information. The issue with the mursashu had completely gone over his head, given the events of the past week.


    "You were willing to risk that I wouldn''t agree?"


    The Mursa raised an eyebrow. "Opportunity is found in times of need," he said, leaning forward to place his elbows on the table. "And I have full confidence you need those spots."


    Molam didn''t flinch at the stare. "What makes you think I''m forced to buy?"


    "You want to go to Oasis," the Mursa replied. His stare relaxed into a small smile, then a lazy blink of the eyes. "A place where the residents pay me passage to leave. So why would you go? Simple: you need something there. But what''s in Oasis that you''d be interested in? While their moon wine is certainly divine and their silkweaving splendid, you can easily put in a purchase order with me instead of going yourself."


    "Jade, of course, was the most obvious thought here. But even if it''s jade, we have the previous problem: you could have made a special request. And yet¡­ I had a nagging feeling that it had to do with jade." The Mursa shrugged, "After lots of thinking, I realized I was thinking about it in the wrong way. It had nothing to do with getting what you wanted, but the amount you wanted it in." If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    He sipped at his tea, then gave Molam a satisfied look before stating his conclusion. "You need a large amount of jade. More than what my people trade in a given year. Enough that you ¡ª or Sanctuary ¡ª needs to speak with the Lord of Sands himself."


    "That''s a good theory," Molam replied impassively. "Even if it were true, what makes you think I can''t just purchase it from all three Mursa and stockpile until I have enough?"


    "That''s such a poor deflection, Molam. Do you really think so little of me? Isn''t the next question why you need so much jade? The Empire asked Oasis to limit the amount of jade allocated for export; enough to sell to those rich fogeys that want to extend their lifespans, but not enough to pose any actual problem to a Titled One. This narrowed down the reasons you would want so much jade: you''re still young, so you don''t seem to be trying to extend your lifespan. Zaem doesn''t require much jade. So I assume," he paused to pour himself more tea, "the Prince will wake up soon? You seem to be in a hurry, after all."


    Molam contemplated deflecting again, but it seemed clear to him that the Mursa was ¡ª correctly ¡ª confident in his guess. He watched Mursa Shang set down the teapot, then looked past the Mursa''s shoulder, towards Jyuni. "Your Mursa certainly wasn''t just flirting with Madam Scarlette, then, if he knows this much."


    Jyuni kept a straight face while her Mursa turned with a look of exasperation.


    "You spoke too much," he chided.


    "My apologies, Mursa."


    "Don''t blame her," Molam tapped the table with a finger. "It was an educated guess."


    "She did praise you for being very good at this game," Mursa Shang turned back to Molam. "Regardless, you are here because I have something you must have. I have told you the ''price'' I''m willing to sell at; now it''s up to you."


    "You drive a hard bargain, Mursa Shang," Molam said over his teacup. "This reminds me of our first meeting. I admit that this time, I didn''t expect you to be this¡­ well-prepared."


    The man allowed himself a slow grin. "I underestimated you back in JiangXi. And I do learn from my mistakes."


    Molam smiled back. "Yes, I can see that. But you''re wrong about one thing. You see¡­ the Prince is not waking soon." He waited for the question.


    The Mursa peered at him. "Oh? Then when does he wake up?"


    So it''s confirmed. The Mursa didn''t know the exact details. If the Mursa thought he knew everything, then Molam would lose all negotiation leverage. Molam thought briefly about withholding the information, but decided against it. Mursa Shang had been confident in his assessment; now was the best time to throw his thoughts off balance.


    "The Oracle said two Sorrows." Just a small dose of truth, timed to cause confusion and self-doubt. "I commend you for coming to this table prepared; I do need jade, and for exactly what you think I need it for. But you were wrong about the Prince waking soon." Reinforcing the truth in the Mursa¡¯s glowing eyes, Molam continued, "And now that I know what you want and your own timeline, you''re the one that needs to convince me to agree to this trade. What do the mursashu call this again? Waiting for better market conditions?"


    The Mursa sipped at his tea again, clearly buying time to think. Molam leaned back in his seat; saying any more would be dangerous. All depended on what the Mursa''s next tactic was.


    "Two Sorrows," the Mursa muttered, glancing at Molam. "You can''t afford to wait that long."


    "And what makes you think that?" Molam replied.


    "You''re here. Why else would you have come to me?"


    "I was hoping to get this done earlier," Molam spoke truthfully again. "But I don''t appreciate being gouged on price." He leaned over the table. "Revealing what you wanted from me was a mistake, Mursa Shang. You said you need my help to restore Mur, fully expecting I would agree to your timeline. You need my help ¨C more than I need yours."


    "We could push the restoration back," Mursa Shang pointed out. "Our people have been away for more than four centuries ¡ª what''s another year? This time next year, you''ll be up against the Prince waking up. And by then, my price may be even higher."


    "That''s true," Molam admitted, "But you''re assuming I live that long."


    The Mursa blinked. "What?"


    Yes, that''s the right reaction, thought Molam. You thought you could safely reveal what you wanted because I had no other choice, but now you''ve attached value to my life.


    "I have two places to go: Oasis and the Northern Plains. Since you plan on gouging me, I''ll simply change the order. As for why the Northern Plains¡­" Molam paused, tapping an unhurried finger on the table, pretending he was making Mursa Shang wait for what could be critical information. After four breaths, he shrugged. "...well, it doesn''t hurt to tell you. The Dao intends to free the Frozen Saint. I''m sure you can imagine the Empire may have violent objections to that."


    Silence. Molam gave the Mursa a relaxed look, then picked up the teapot and refilled their respective cups. The last bit of tea dribbled out, and Molam frowned ¡ª his cup was only half full. "It seems we''re out of tea."


    "Jyuni, be a dear." The Mursa''s voice was equally relaxed, but his eyes were staring down at the cup Molam had just handed back to him ¡ª a focused look that spoke of intense deliberation.


    Jyuni stepped forward, picking up the pot and carrying it out. The sound of liquid leaving a bottle came from behind Molam; it appeared that Kalle was also refilling his wine.


    Molam remained silent, refusing to give Mursa Shang anything more to work with. The Mursa had been right the entire time; it was only through the barest of unknown information that Molam could plant a seed of doubt. But it was all he needed; Molam hadn''t lied about wanting to free the Frozen Saint, but he had no idea if it was even possible. Even if not, he recalled from Shurra''s conversation with the OutCast that the Frozen Saint could carry a conversation ¡ª and who better to talk to than the last person who had fought the Prince equally?


    But going to the Northern Plains first wasn''t ideal. The matter of securing jade was nonnegotiable; Molam was gambling on the Mursa deciding he could be more flexible in his demands if it meant getting Molam to travel with him first. But there were too many unknowns on his end too: what exactly did the Mursa think Molam could do to restore Mur? Again, he berated himself for not asking the Oracle before coming here. If he¡¯d known what it was, he could have leveraged it as well.


    Jyuni returned with a fresh pot, gesturing towards Molam¡¯s cup. Molam downed his remaining tea, then pushed the cup towards her with a nod of thanks. Jyuni picked it up, then paused as she looked towards her Mursa, whose hand was on her arm. He reached for the teapot. Jyuni passed it over to him and retreated to her spot.


    "You''re still here because you hope to go to Oasis first,'''' the Mursa spoke slowly as he poured. He set down the teapot and pushed Molam¡¯s cup towards him, meeting Molam¡¯s gaze. "Which means there''s room for flexibility."


    "Or perhaps I simply enjoy the tea. Tieguanyin is expensive, not something I''d normally spare the coin for."


    "Very coy," Mursa Shang replied, but the relaxed air of confidence was gone. "What is it you want?"


    Molam made the Mursa wait for him to finish sipping before answering, "And why should I make the same mistake you did?"


    "Now, now, I''ll admit I was wrong to think you were going to be a swift buyer. But our little friendly pact should give us some leeway for negotiations, no?"


    "You mean our nonaggression pact?" Molam responded. "You''ve had multiple opportunities to be ''friendly,'' Mursa Shang. The Empire''s two attacks ¡ª you couldn''t have been unaware of them. And yet you didn''t lift a finger. In fact, if memory serves," he added, "you were there with Madam Scarlette at the Martial Arena when the Empire attacked. Madam Scarlette came down. You fled."


    Mursa Shang raised his head, looking down his nose at Molam. "I''m sure you understand my position well, Molam."


    "I do. You chose the safest options for your people; I don''t fault you for that. But to turn around and expect me to give you any preferential treatment as a result?" Molam leaned forward, meeting the Mursa''s defiant gaze with his own. "I''m not that easy to bully into a sale. How about you make a compelling offer?"


    They stared at each other without flinching. Molam broke the tension with a relaxed smile. "Or, I could leave right now. It''s not yet Summer''s Warmth, but I have no doubt I''ll need to prepare adequately for a trip to the Northern Plains." You''re going to keep me or you won''t, but you can''t risk me finding an alternative, can you? He had no intention of allowing the Mursa to regain his earlier confidence.


    "The matter of seats cannot be changed," the Mursa spoke with a tone of finality. "Other things can be discussed."


    "That''s not an offer. If you don''t budge, this will go nowhere and I should be elsewhere."


    Pressing his lips together, the Mursa added, "I''ll also provide transport for the return trip in addition to any jade you secure in Oasis."


    "I said a compelling offer," Molam waved a dismissive hand. "And now I know you didn''t intend to provide a return trip in the first place. Were you perhaps hoping to gouge me again for that?"


    "I was in the middle of making a list," Mursa Shang continued grudgingly. "On top of both legs of the trip, I will provide food and water to your group of three for the entire duration of your time in the Endless Sands. Additionally," he noted, raising a finger upon seeing Molam''s raised eyebrow, "You will have access to my caravan''s resources for the purposes of both restoring Mur and aiding you to secure your jade. I assume the amount of money you''ve set aside for purchasing jade must have eaten into what money you do have, even with Sanctuary''s backing."


    Molam waited for more, but the Mursa leaned back with crossed arms, seemingly done with his offer.


    "What exactly does that entail?" Molam asked, inflecting his tone so that the Mursa would assume he was interested. "Does it include¡­ your people?"


    Mursa Shang sipped at his tea before answering. "Same as how I had Cholani work for you back in JiangXi. So long as they''re not doing anything critical for me, I have no issue lending them to you."


    "Interesting." Molam already knew what he wanted, but did not want to seem too eager. Let the Mursa think Molam still wasn''t convinced, that it wasn''t enough. "Is that your best offer?"


    The Mursa held out his hands disarmingly. "What more could you want? People pay an incredible amount to leave Oasis. I assume you know the value of getting back out."


    "That value decreases once Mur is restored," Molam countered. "In fact, once Mur is restored, the mursashu no longer have a monopoly over travel to Oasis, since I could have Sanctuary''s messengers help me transport the jade. Your offer makes little sense for me in the long run."


    But the Mursa held up a hand in disagreement. "And my offer depends on whether you can actually help me restore Mur. I want to confirm whether you even deserve an offer," he put his hand down onto the table and leaned forward, his eyes flashing golden. "The Oracle said I would need to borrow the strength of a great spirit to restore Mur ¡ª can you actually use spirits?"


    The air became heavy, and his skin tingled. Molam forced himself to stay calm, looking for answers. "Aren''t you talking to me because you already think I can?"


    "That''s not an answer," the Mursa demanded, his glowing eyes narrowing. "Diyah''s memories suggest that the other aura lingering about you belongs to a spirit, but I need hard proof. No dodging this one, Molam. You will give me an answer: have you met a spirit?"


    Molam held back his surprise at the Mursa''s forceful questioning. "Yes."


    "And can you borrow their strength?"


    "Yes." So the way to restore Mur is through a spirit''s strength. But how? He would need to ask the Oracle what exactly a spirit could do to cleanse the Lost City of DuskWing''s curse.


    "So you''re an anima?"


    "No."


    "That doesn''t add up," said the Mursa, furrowing his brow. "Only certain anima like the Frost Saint have ever spoken to, much less contracted with spirits."


    "You have much to learn about spirits, then," Molam replied, keenly aware of Jyuni and Kalle''s gazes on him. "The HearthKeepers of the Northern Tribes are all capable of speaking to spirits without necessarily being anima."


    "Interesting. I have never had a chance to interact with a HearthKeeper at length, but that makes sense," the Mursa pondered, then asked, "Have you interacted with spirits for long?"


    "I grew up with many, interacting with them on an almost daily basis," Molam answered, hearing Kalle inhale sharply in surprise. The Mursa''s eyes widened; no doubt he had confirmed the veracity of Molam''s words. Even Jyuni''s normally expressionless face changed to one of curiosity. "Are you done with your interrogation, Mursa Shang?"


    "I prefer calling it verification," the Mursa leaned back in his chair, the golden glow fading from his eyes. "This is not a matter that can be done without verifying each step of the process. I''m sure you understand."


    "Don''t mischaracterize that as anything but you demanding something from me that I had every right to keep to myself," Molam said forcefully, sensing it was his moment to pounce while Mursa Shang was still processing what he had just learned. "I played your game ¡ª and now you play mine. You questioned me about my private matters under the Sight and confirmed that I can use spirits. I want to confirm you can give me what I want in exchange for helping you with Mur." He leaned forward to stare the Mursa in the eyes, speaking in a serious tone. "All three caravans, Mursa Shang. Including all three Mursa."


    The Mursa''s eyes darkened, clasping his hands together. "I will admit it was heavy-handed of me to question you with the Sight, but we are long past time for jokes, Molam."


    "Oh, but I''m quite serious, Mursa Shang," Molam refilled their cups from the teapot, focusing on the cups to get away from Mursa Shang''s questing look. "You think to soften the limitation on who I can bring by offering me your people. Though your given reason is understandable, the result is me being separated from those I can trust. Moreover, you''ll get nothing out of me if I can''t do what I need to do in Oasis. And so," he looked back up to the Mursa, "I want all three caravans and the Mursa to answer to me for the duration of our trip, so long as I haven''t left the Endless Sands."


    "You ask for something I cannot give," the Mursa snapped back.


    "That''s because I didn''t expect you to say yes immediately. You have a way of contacting both Mursa Allyce and Mursa Khan, no? Considering this matter involves Mur, I''m certain they''ll be willing to hear the terms," Molam downed his tea and stood up, careful to not bump his chair into Kalle. "I take it you''ll need time to think about it," he added to the Mursa.


    "And to think you accused me of bullying people into a sale." The Mursa said nothing, then waved a hand. "Jyuni, see them out."


    So. Not a rejection. "Thank you, but we can find our way back," Molam replied, "Come, Kalle. We''ve imposed on the Mursa''s hospitality long enough."


    Kalle gulped the last of his wine, looking forlornly at the rest in the jug, then set down his cup and stood up. "Thank you for the wine," he said, bowing his head towards Jyuni.


    The woman bowed back, then held open the tent flap for them. Kalle ducked out first, then Molam. "You did not disappoint," she murmured to Molam as he passed by.


    "You think too highly of me." He gave her a curt nod as he left. He could see why Mursa Shang had chosen her to inherit his Title; something about her eyes and movements spoke of a keen, deliberate mind.


    Molam and Kalle stayed silent until they had long left the Mursa''s caravan circle. The Sun had set, and ZhiXia City''s builders were retiring for the evening. Several construction sites were well underway. The Sharks were contributing a lot of labor to the cause now that they no longer needed to handle the Whale''s trial.


    "Did¡­" Kalle asked hesitantly, "Did that go as planned? I might not have understood all of that, but I understood why we went ¡ª and I don''t think you have passage to Oasis yet?"


    "None of that went as planned, Kalle," Molam answered, frustrated, then bit his lip and softened his tone. Kalle wasn''t to blame. "Mursa Shang was more prepared than I thought possible, even though I had just decided to go speak with him. I never expected that conversation to go the way it went and had to make the best of it. This is a matter I intend to settle with Madam Scarlette." He took a breath, trying to calm down. "Also, it''s we. You''re coming."


    The Northerner''s face blanched. "Wait, what?"


    "You heard me. One of the two will be you." Molam continued walking, Sanctuary''s brightly lit pillars coming into sight. "I was hoping to bring as many as I can, but the Mursa was not budging. I''m still hoping that the limitation was a farce and he was gambling on me chasing for extra positions, but I didn''t want to play that game at all."


    "Oh. I didn''t even think that was an option," Kalle replied, then sighed. "I''ve¡­ never been to Oasis. The stories we heard around the HeartHomes did not paint it in a good light. Is it a nice place? I''ve heard it''s the richest City in the world."


    Molam pondered the question, then shrugged as they stepped up to Sanctuary. "I don''t have fond memories from my time there with Mursa Khan''s caravan two years ago. I certainly don''t want to live there. It''s the richest City in the world where too many dream of leaving."


    <hr>


    Mursa Shang''s tent


    Jyuni cleared the table and put the refreshments on a tray, handing it to a young man from Gyota''s mursasho who was passing by the tent. The man seemed surprised ¡ª normally, Jyuni did not pass on chores to others ¡ª but accepted the tray and took it towards the kitchens. Jyuni herself went the opposite direction; she filled a bowl at the water wagon, then carried it back to the tent.


    Inside, she saw her Mursa writing down notes of his talk with the Dao, muttering darkly to himself. Jyuni set the bowl on the table and pulled out the chair that Molam had sat in.


    "You expected him to make it expensive for us," Jyuni reminded him while glancing at his notes. It was separated into four columns, two on one side being what Mursa Shang had offered and asked for; two on the other being what Molam had offered and asked for. A circle had been drawn around the words [command of all mursashu.] "And he did."


    "Yes, but this goes beyond ''expensive,''" Mursa Shang replied. "I don''t find Molam particularly greedy as an individual, but his demand in this trade was not something I¡¯d ever considered in our calculations."


    She tapped a finger on the bowl of water. "Do you plan on bringing it to the other Mursa?"


    He leaned back in his chair, reviewing the four columns. "I thought we had him," he grumbled. "I knew what he wanted, and that coming to me meant the Whale of ZhiXia couldn¡¯t help him get to Oasis. Normally, you''d think that would mean I could demand whatever price I wanted; who knew I was off about the timing and that he was willing to spite me with the value of his life?" He shook his head, pushing aside the notes and pulling over the bowl. "But none of that went as planned. Mursa Allyce would love his methods of negotiation."


    "We could look for another spirit speaker in Oasis," Jyuni suggested.


    "We could, but we run the risk of not finding one. Anima are rare enough, but even the ones that have spoken to a spirit have only ever spoken to just one. And yet Molam said he grew up with ''them.'' That''s something I never expected anyone to voluntarily reveal ¡ª I thought it was a trap, but his words didn''t carry a single lie." Mursa Shang rolled up his sleeve, exposing the tattoo on his right arm. "I still think it''s a trap, but I can''t think of what he stood to gain from revealing that to me."


    "Perhaps he wanted you to think this way?"


    Mursa Shang gave her a look of reproach. "Don''t put that idea in my head, or it''ll give me a headache. The only thing I can think of is that Molam was implying he was the best option I have. The Oracle said that the great spirit we need is already in Oasis, and if Molam has spoken to multiple spirits before, it increases the chances he can speak to this one on our behalf."


    The thought had never occurred to Jyuni. She nodded in understanding, "That seems¡­ reasonable." She kept her surprise to a minimum, lest her Mursa get a big head.


    "Now all that matters is conveying this to the other two and getting their permission," Mursa Shang grimaced, then dipped the tip of his index finger in the bowl. When the water stilled, the Mursa placed his wet finger on the rim and began tracing the lip. Tiny gold droplets dribbled from his finger into the water within. Upon completing a full circle, the water gleamed golden ¡ª a mirror reflecting the Mursa''s face.


    He looked into the mirror-like water and took a breath, then began his message.


    "I discussed what we wanted with Molam from the Dao. Mursa Khan, regarding your suggestion to limit the amount of people he could bring with him¡­ well, let''s just say Molam didn''t like playing that game. He knows what we want and is keenly aware of our timeline, and now he''s turning that to his advantage." He paused, then added, "Neither of you will like what he''s demanded."

 Ch 69: Conversations

    My life has been a series of endless failures disguised as triumphs.


    So this is what my friend meant when he said "regrets are the most painful reminder you chose otherwise." Regret is a constant companion, a heavy cloak that drapes over the grand tapestry of my life. All I can think of are the constant missteps, echoing the question: "what could have been?"


    The Prince, once the embodiment of my dearest friend''s legacy and the culmination of my teachings, has strayed from the path of righteous wisdom. Children are not guilty of their parent''s sins, but a student''s failures can only ever reflect upon the teacher''s failings. He may not be of my blood, but I have lost another son.


    If only I had been brave enough to face God Yven''s call, I would not be burdened with the truth of my own despicable legacy. Hubris stalks me once again, telling me that so long as I live, I have a chance to make amends.


    Nettie ¡ª I hope to do right by you. This time I shall start small: I want nothing more than for you to live a fulfilling life.


    Your happiness will be my final legacy.


    ¡ª Excerpt from the journal of Flangel the Wise


    <hr>


    ZhiXia City Center


    It was still early morning when Molam walked into the City Center, carrying steamed buns wrapped tightly in a white cloth and a jug of hot goat milk. He looked around, noting the many bleary-eyed Sharks in the office. They sat around a large slate table, each one holding a piece of chalk. Molam noticed the table bore several sketches and brief notes written in shorthand.


    He could sympathize with their fatigue ¡ª it seemed the Sharks were working out the logistics of lowering the earthen platform the OutCast had raised during her rampage. The renovations on that particular street had been paused for some time now, and would need to remain so until this problem was resolved.


    Khalim looked up from behind the counter and said, brusquely, "Captain Aster is not here."


    "Then it''s a good thing I sent Primrose to the memorial," Molam said, raising the bundle of food. "HuaLang Chamber sends their well-wishes and regards. I don''t believe your people have eaten?"


    Curiosity and hunger had overridden the Sharks¡¯ normally iron discipline. Molam sensed eyes on the bundle in his hand. Khalim looked past Molam¡¯s shoulder, nodded in what looked like resignation, then called, "Sharks! Someone''s brought food for us. Let''s take a break and give our thoughts some rest. I expect you all to return refreshed in an hour, so someone can come up with a better solution than Torje''s idea of pounding the spike into the ground so the platform lowers with it."


    A young Shark with sandy-blonde hair held out his hands in a look of resigned defiance. "What? That''s still way better than making it fall. We''ve already agreed breaking it apart isn''t safe, and it would take too long to build something structurally sound enough to lower it with rope."


    "I never said it was bad, Torje," Khalim replied testily as the others got up from their seats. He went to the back of the counter, looking for something. "Just that there could be something better."


    "Being technically correct is the least accepted form of being correct, you know," Torje grumbled as he came over.


    "You''re in the wrong line of work to be thinking that." Khalim returned with several cups, doling them out. They laughed at Khalim''s dry joke and flocked around Molam, thanking him for the food. Two of the Sharks patted Torje on the shoulders, conversing in low tones as they sat down to eat and drink.


    "Thank you for the delivery, Molam," Khalim said, indicating the seat in front of the counter. "Was there anything else you wanted?"


    Molam sat down, picking up the last steamed bun. "To eat."


    The man seemed both disappointed and annoyed at Molam''s response, but reached down and brought out another cup. Khalim poured the dregs of the goat milk into it and pushed it towards him before leaning back and biting into his own bun. "Fwah hweh haaah," he huffed, his normally stoic face turning into a mix of urgency and surprise. "Hyaaaaaaa. Hahhhhhh."


    "Careful," Molam peeled apart his own, letting the steam disperse. "They''re hot."


    "You could have said that earlier," Khalim glowered, sucking in air to cool his tongue.


    "I couldn''t have known you wouldn''t wait," Molam replied.


    "He''s got you there, Khalim," Torje piped up. "He''s technically correct." Several of the Sharks snickered; a few coughed to hide their laughter. Khalim pressed his lips as though he disapproved, then smiled.


    "That''s true. Molam isn''t able to predict the future," he said, pinching out a section from the bun. He blew lightly on the filling before putting it close to his lips to determine if it was safe, then popped it in his mouth. "Mmm, pulled pork. If HuaLang Chamber only reestablished itself as a restaurant, I would visit twice weekly."


    Molam pinched off a section of his own bun''s tender, juicy filling. The pork and spices coalesced into a harmonious blend of savory and slightly sweet as they melted into his tongue, a pleasant contrast with the rich dough. He savored the bite, allowing it to linger as his slow chewing melted the rich dough.


    "You could only visit the Earthly Needs," he commented after swallowing.


    Khalim raised a brow, then slowly smiled. "Again, technically correct. But that would be a hard sell to my wife and daughter."


    "I don''t know anything about being a husband or father," replied Molam. He took a swig from his still-warm goat milk to wash away the slightly fatty aftertaste and give his palate something different. Instead of the strong overpowering scent most people would associate with goat products, it had a gentle earthiness that combined well with the aftertaste for a smooth finish. Perhaps HuaLang Chamber had boiled it with some herbs. "But a man with your reputation should be more confident in your position."


    "Reputation, is it?" It was more a statement than a question.


    "A powerful thing," Molam replied. "How many would dare accuse a man with your reputation of improper relations? You could go in broad daylight to sit down for a meal, then pay and leave with barely more than a few raised eyebrows and whispers."


    "Reputation is powerful and flimsy, inscrutable and ever-shifting." Khalim paused to eat, then added, "It is nothing more than an idea, and nothing kills an idea like another idea. I prefer something more undeniable ¡ª to respect my wife with my actions. To be a good role model for my daughter. Even if it''s just for food, going to a glorified brothel is hardly going to achieve either."


    Molam gave that some thought while Khalim drank. "I can appreciate that way of thinking," he said eventually. "I had an idea for saving Master Ji ¡ª several, really ¡ª but what truly affected the outcome was undeniable action. But then," Molam added, swallowing the rest of his food before continuing, "Can we attribute the outcome of his trial to his action, or to the resurgence of an idea associated with him as the Whale of ZhiXia?"


    Khalim gave him a flat look, then said, "I suppose I should congratulate you on a job well done in that aspect." He brought out a teapot, flipped open the lid to check inside for water, then put it on their table and added two cups. "Though I imagine it played out quite differently than either of us envisioned. Tea?"


    "Yes, thank you. I''ll drink it after I''m done with this," Molam indicated the rest of his goat milk. "And you''re correct. I don''t believe the situation unfolded¡­ quite under anyone''s control. But we made the best of it, and now the Whale''s reputation has been restored."


    "But the City has yet to be." Khalim pushed a steaming cup towards Molam, then poured one for himself. He set down the teapot and settled back in his seat, eyeing Molam with his default mildly disapproving glare. "Restored, that is. Things have changed. And whenever I encounter change, I have a recurring question: is this for better, or for worse?"


    "A good question. And? Your answer?"


    "For the City? It''s certainly been worse." Khalim gestured towards the table. "We''re stuck on ideas for demolishing an earth and rock formation held in midair by a stalagmite over eight floors tall. An entire street cannot be restored until this has been dealt with, displacing multiple shop owners and preventing about eighty families from returning to their homes. We can''t haphazardly deconstruct it due to its lean, but the clamor of unhappy residents asking us why we haven''t resolved the problem is a daily occurrence."


    Khalim leaned to the side, grunting with effort. "Or did you mean for the Whale of ZhiXia? That''s more of a question for him, but I''d say it''s hard to claim it''s better. He was blamed for the OutCast''s rampage. Although he was also acquitted, people often have short memories for good and long memories for bad. The fresh emptiness in their lives hasn''t suddenly been filled either, and no doubt people will think about blaming him the next time trouble strikes even if they can do nothing about it." He sighed, then added, "There''s been other tension. The Sharks would like to ask for his help with the OutCast''s rock formation. He could probably solve most if not all our problems, but none of us have the courage to ask him after putting him in chains. And thus both the City and the Whale¡¯s reputation are neither restored nor destroyed, but sit somewhere uncomfortably between the two."


    "The alchemists would say to always look into the root cause of anything," Molam replied. "Who caused that formation in the City? Who is truly at fault for the deaths and destruction? If you trace this line of thought back to its origin, the answer has always been that the Empire¡ª"


    Khalim held up a hand. "Don''t," the man said flatly. He downed his tea and refilled it before continuing. "Just¡­ don''t. I know that line of thinking, Molam. And before you interrupt me again, yes, I believe it to be perfectly reasonable. Admirable, in fact, to take on such a large burden for yourself. As though you need more Sorrows."


    Molam finished his goat milk and set down the cup. "I hear an impending ''but.''"


    "But," Khalim continued, "until you accomplish your goal of killing the Bloody Prince, the daily lives of my people haven''t improved, only worsened. Should you fail, it will only intensify in its regression. And my people won¡¯t think of the Empire, a nebulous threat so far from their doors. You saw how they turned their frustration onto the Whale. He lives among them. Easier to see means easier to blame."


    "So you''d rather live with the bigger problem in the distance than exacerbate it by attempting to remove it," Molam postulated. "Is that it?"


    Khalim pressed his lips together. "No," he replied, "That''s not how I think of it. But if you follow the alchemist philosophy, focusing on identifying cause and effect, I can see how you would think that way. Our focuses are different. That''s all."


    He fell silent, with Molam mulling over what he¡¯d said. "I don''t want you to think I don''t understand," Molam said slowly, "Because I think I do. Do you remember that story I told you about the village and the boy they offered as tribute?"If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Khalim frowned, then raised an eyebrow. "You think our positions have switched now, do you?"


    "No. You''re still doing your best to do what''s right, and that is to follow the law as it was agreed to. But," Molam leaned forward, tapping the counter once. "Aren''t you the same? If the Free Cities agreed to sacrifice ZhiXia City to prevent something worse, could you do it?"


    "I don''t have an answer for a hypothetical like that," Khalim murmured. "But I do see your point. We should never delude ourselves into believing there will always be a ''right'' answer."


    "''There is no right or wrong, only consequences,''" Molam intoned.


    Khalim frowned. "The Red Emperor?"


    "No, the Red Emperor wrote ''There is no good or evil, only consequences.'' Flangel the Wise didn''t see the world that way, so he rephrased it." Molam shrugged at Khalim''s stare. "It may sound the same, but apparently the meaning is drastically different. One could argue it was this difference in perspective that caused Flangel the Wise to go on and establish Techoria."


    Khalim peered at Molam over his cup. "You seem well-versed in Flangel the Wise''s history."


    "A Scholar at the Fallen Star Pavilion would not keep the progress of her research on Flangel the Wise to herself," Molam replied dryly. "I can only imagine the state of her dissertation. If it isn''t complete yet, it should be getting a new section added regarding Techoria''s fall."


    "Perhaps she should''ve chosen topics that are less in flux, then," Khalim said idly. "Things can always change, and for the worse." He sipped in silent thought, then said, "Well done. Bringing Techoria into this conversation. A City that''s been destroyed."


    "I have no idea what you mean," Molam replied, sipping his drink.


    The man regarded Molam with a disappointed air, then added, "For what it''s worth, I don''t want you to misunderstand me either. I simply have a different focus and would like you to succeed. It''s my understanding you''ll need all the help you can get¡­ given the Bloody Prince''s reputation."


    "His seems less flimsy," Molam observed. "Perhaps I should ask the Sharks for ideas on how to kill his reputation?"


    "Hah, after hearing about our wondrous solution to the renovations? I''m afraid his reputation is more rooted in certain¡­ undeniable results," Khalim replied. "Even if the stories are only half-true, he''s earned his reputation many times over."


    A young man poked his head into their space, tapping Molam on the shoulder. "A mursashu is outside looking for you," he said.


    The Mursa must have an answer, Molam thought grimly. He stood up, nodding to Khalim. "Thanks for your time, Khalim."


    "Leaving so soon?" the man asked, hopefully.


    "I''m expecting something from the Mursa, and may need to discuss its contents with my group."


    Khalim waved a hand. "Thank you for the food. And I do wish you much luck in that regard."


    "I''ll most likely need that luck," Molam picked up the empty jug and made to leave, before turning around one final time. "And¡­ you do know you could just order food from HuaLang Chamber, right?" He held up the jug, adding, "They deliver."


    <hr>


    Edge of ZhiXia City, Memorial


    Primrose entered the memorial at Sunrise, just as the light of the Sun painted the sky with hues of soft pink and warm orange. The memorial''s designer must have been a genius, for the Sunlight bathed the bronze and silver placards inside in an ethereal glow that looked like aura.


    The memorial doubled as ZhiXia City''s mausoleum, though neither bodies nor ashes were interred here. Primrose walked past rows of names on the walls, remembering her times entering this place whenever HuaLang Chamber had suffered a loss.


    As a Flower herself, she understood there was a high likelihood her body would never be recovered, but it didn''t matter. The feelings did not hold sway because of a lifeless husk, but because of the memories associated with a bond. And for one to remember, one only needed a name.


    Primrose walked past several she recognized. Rosemary, Daisy, Ivy, Marigold, and more. Not their birth names, of course, but they had all discarded those when they had earned their flowers. She herself would never answer to her birth name ever again, for she was this generation''s Primrose, the Flower assigned to a specific red nameplate on top of the Madam''s wall.


    She found Aster sitting in the same place he always did. He did not acknowledge her when she sat down next to him. Primrose matched his sitting posture: back straight, hands interlaced on her lap.


    "Captain Aster," she greeted.


    His amber eyes shifted a moment later, as though breaking free from a reverie. Glancing at her, Aster held out a hand to reveal a wrapped piece of soft candy. Primrose unwrapped it, popping it into her mouth as the two of them sat in silence, looking at two bronze placards:


    Rhea Songbird


    Beloved wife. A mother who loved with all she had.


    Silas Songbird


    Treasured son. A boy who brought smiles to all he met.


    Though several bronze placards had turned a dull green, these two shone as bright as the day they were minted twenty years ago, with only the faintest hints of scratches on their surfaces. A testament to one person¡¯s longstanding care.


    It was Aster who broke their silence. "I thought I handled it well when HuaLang Chamber and Sanctuary managed to dilute the votes. But then¡­ the Empire''s second appearance was unexpected. Was that arranged too?"


    "I think the one who brokered Sanctuary''s involvement did not expect the timing either."


    "Such is life," he sighed, shaking his head. "I heard it was an idea from the Oracle''s vessel. I believe you''re affiliated as a group?"


    "The Dao," answered Primrose.


    "An interesting name for your group. ''The Way,'' correct? Who came up with that?"


    "It''s ¡ª nevermind," Primrose shook her head, too embarrassed at her own contribution to want to explain it to Aster. She swallowed the rest of the candy. "Are you disappointed?"


    "Only in myself."


    "Why did you do it? Madam Scarlette said you denied it having anything to do with Silas, but she thinks it''s still related."


    "Is that what you came to ask? My reasoning and motivations?"


    "I ¡ª" Primrose hesitated, then said, "I believe you''re more than that, Aster. I just¡­ I understand why the others would think you never forgave the Whale for being gone."


    "The time for loathing has long passed," came his reply. "I will say it again to you and Scarlette both: I do not hold it against the Whale that he cannot always be in ZhiXia City. Losing Silas and Rhea taught me that it was my own inadequacy I should have resented."


    "Then why, Aster? Why target the Whale?"


    "Seedlings cannot grow in the shade of a large tree; and the Whale is the biggest tree of them all. I merely saw an opportunity for change and tried to take it." He paused, then continued, "I understand HuaLang Chamber believes differently, but that''s why we''re alive, isn''t it? We all believe in sowing the seeds of tomorrow, just in different places. People carrying different ideas, coming together, clashing, and then one winning. In the end, the world only allows for what is possible. Not just ideals ¡ª reality tends to be a bit more grounded than that."


    "I don''t disagree," Primrose said. "The problem is whether you allowed your personal feelings to influence that decision."


    "The same could be said for you," his voice softened. "Aren''t you and Madam Scarlette allowing your feelings to influence your decisions? She has her feelings for the Whale and you have your gratitude for him bringing you back from Teljumaya." There was no bitterness in his voice, just flat acceptance. "It is unfortunate, but I do understand. And because I do not blame him for what happened to Silas, I stress that I have much respect for him. If I had let my feelings get in the way, I wouldn''t have done any of what I did. I only did it because I believed this was truly for the best."


    Primrose fell silent. Aster''s words had¡­ some sense to them. Scarlette''s unrequited affections aside, how much of her own feelings were due to being one of the orphans Master Ji had saved when he went to Teljumaya? Could she ever draw a blade against him if he was an obstacle to her own goals?


    Then she shook her head. "I don''t deny my gratitude to him. But even if you were right¡­ I can''t agree with the way you went about it. Losing the Whale would destabilize ZhiXia and open it to the Empire''s attack."


    "It could," he agreed. "Which was why I left the results to the public''s decision."


    "That''s a poor excuse for something you wanted. Something you started."


    Aster closed his eyes, sighed, then turned to Primrose. "Should I have not?"


    The intensity behind his eyes had dimmed compared to the fire she had seen two days ago during Master Ji''s first trial, and Primrose noticed wrinkles near their corners. She wanted to frown; Aster was just over fifty Sorrows. It seemed surreal that the man who had trained most of her generation of Flowers in combat could age.


    He pointed down the hall to the placards near the entrance. "Four hundred and seven new names. Some might say that these names belong on the OutCast''s ledger, and I don''t disagree. But the Whale of ZhiXia''s negligence is real. He submitted to the trial because he understands it too; had he chosen differently, those placards wouldn''t be there right now. Do you dispute that?"


    "It''s¡­" Primrose hesitated. "It''s complicated."


    "Such is life."


    They fell back to silence, staring at the placards again. Primrose noticed a black aster placed on the offering tray, then decided to change the subject.


    "Madam¡ª" Primrose paused, then corrected herself, "Scarlette wanted to come too, but she was scheduled to play Dawn''s Call this morning." She brought out a scarlet pimpernel from her sleeve, then untwisted a blue satem flower from her hair and placed them on the offering tray next to the black flower. "We worry about you."


    "What is there to worry about?" Aster asked, his gaze unmoving from the placards.


    "Just¡­ everything." Primrose scooted closer to him, much like how she used to as a younger girl. She stopped short of laying her head on Aster''s arm, then continued, "We should have said more when you left the Chamber, but you told us not to worry. Scarlette believed you wanted to work through it by yourself, but it''s been over ten years." She paused, then added, "Dahlia and Cassia say you never stop by for tea."


    "I''m simply doing what I need to do, as is everyone else," Aster replied. "HuaLang Chamber has enough talent. ZhiXia City, however, does not."


    "I understand you put a lot of care into ZhiXia City, but life is too short to forget having tea with those you care about," Primrose asserted.


    "Madam Ixia would be proud we all remember her sayings." He nodded towards the placards at the entrance. "Is your friend remembered here too?" he asked. "Did you have time to sit down for tea with him?"


    Primrose paused before answering. "No and no. Martyker ¡ª the Armed Swordsman ¡ª his name belongs in Oasis." A memory surfaced ¡ª pretty flower lady. Yes, that was what he had called her. "I didn''t know him long enough¡­ but I think I wouldn''t have minded sharing tea with him."


    "That''s a shame." Aster replied. Then, "Why are you here, Primrose?"


    The relaxed tone had changed. Gone was her Flower brother; Captain Aster spoke now.


    Primrose measured her words before she spoke. "The Dao is planning to finish what the Frozen Saint could not; and we intend to do it while the Bloody Prince is weak and defenseless. Molam ¡ª the Oracle''s vessel, if you still don''t know his name ¡ª says we need more people. Talented people."


    "And you want to recruit me." A flat statement.


    "Yes. Molam thought it would be a good idea to have you on our side." And I do too, she wanted to add, but she already knew his answer from his tone.


    "I''m not interested. I have more important things to worry about."


    Primrose didn''t want to leave it at that. "The things you worry about. All of them could be ended if we kill the Bloody Prince."


    "If," Aster replied, forcefully. "Despite all I''ve said, I don''t think you and Scarlette understand why I left HuaLang Chamber at all. The world isn''t just the expanse from the unknown edges of the Endless Sands to the Deep Waters. I don''t mean to downplay the importance of what the Dao and HuaLang Chamber want to achieve, but I simply see things differently. People live here too ¡ª and it''s been twice now that the Whale was unable to prevent horrors from happening because he was not able to stay." He gave her a grim smile. "I appreciate the offer, but ZhiXia City is where I need to be."


    A little girl''s voice surfaced in Primrose''s memory: Nettie thinks you should not think about accepting where you find yourself, but finding purpose in wherever you happen to be.


    "I see you''ve found your purpose," Primrose stood up, smoothing down her dress. "After hearing that, it would be rude of me to convince you otherwise."


    The man nodded, then held out his hand again. Another piece of candy lay on his palm.


    "Aren''t those for Silas?" asked Primrose.


    "Silas gets these every day," he replied. The hand did not retract. "He was always one to share. If you come tomorrow, I''ll bring your favorite red bean buns."


    After a moment''s hesitation, Primrose took the candy. "Thank you," she said to Silas'' nameplate.


    Aster nodded, his eyes closed. "I don''t think I ever told you, but Silas would have liked you," he said to Primrose. "And Rhea would have wanted you to avoid becoming ''Primrose.''"


    "It''s too late for that," Primrose said quietly as she unwrapped the candy.


    "Yes," Aster sighed, opening his eyes again. He stared blankly forward, and Primrose could not tell if he was looking at Silas and Rhea''s names again. "It''s too late."


    Primrose popped the candy into her mouth. It was licorice.

 Ch 70: Spreading Sand

    Every tree you see was once a seedling, planted there by the whims of wind or intent of hand.


    But what about people? How do you think each person you meet arrived at that spot?


    By chance, fate, or desire?


    And perhaps most importantly:


    Does it matter?


    ¡ª Lost Winds, by an unnamed traveler


    <hr>


    HuaLang Chamber


    Primrose returned to a crowd exiting HuaLang Chamber. She stood aside, idly watching the crowd stream into the street to avoid going against the tide. Judging by the half-dried tear tracks running down several cheeks, Primrose guessed Madam Scarlette''s performance must have been as riveting as usual.


    A Petal with twintails attempted to sneak up on her, but Primrose turned, giving her a side-eye. "You had mischief written all over your face the second you saw me," Primrose reprimanded lightly. "Melting into the crowd after that made no difference when I was already on guard. There is a reason you''re taught to wear an unassuming look: never give away your intentions, or you invite being caught."


    The Petal nodded, grimacing at her mistake before delivering her message. "Madam Scarlette said you aren''t assigned to the Floor of Earthly Needs today, and requests you go to her study as soon as you return."


    "Thank you," Primrose replied, then entered the Chamber, the Petal by her side. "Any developments?"


    "I can''t say anything specific¡­ but, if you go up right now you might see something good," said the Petal with a wink before she ran off to the kitchens.


    Something good, hm? Primrose thought as she made for the stairs up to the Floor of Heavenly Peace. Several straggling patrons were still making their way down, and Primrose gave them her practiced smile whenever they passed, taking care not to jostle any shoulders.


    Alighting onto the fourth floor, Primrose caught Dahlia, Cassia, and Leilani grouped near the stairwell. The three of them were huddled together, whispering something unintelligible as Primrose approached, her feet sliding silently across the wooden floorboards.


    Leilani tilted her head, then turned. "Prim?" Her ears had always been better than the others¡¯.


    The others turned as well, and Primrose held up her hands with a smile, accepting she had been caught. "What''s going on?" she asked.


    Cassia pointed in response, and Primrose looked; the door to Madam Scarlette''s study was closed. Before Primrose could ask, Dahlia answered, "Molam is here. And so is the Whale."


    Primrose raised an eyebrow. The Whale of ZhiXia famously never entered HuaLang Chamber. "Are you certain?"


    Dahlia gave her a look of exasperation. "Why would I lie about that?"


    "Scarlette must be quite flustered," Leilani whispered. "She didn''t have time to change after her performance."


    "I don''t think she cares about that," Primrose responded in her lowest voice.


    "Shh," Cassia shushed. "The Madam can¡ª"


    The door to the study swung open and Madam Scarlette''s voice sailed out. "¡ªhear you four, yes. Come in, Primrose. As for the other three: I believe you have your assignments for the day?"


    The other three Flowers straightened with various looks of guilt and began sidling down the stairs. Dahlia poked Primrose''s shoulder as she passed by, winking and mouthing the words tell us later before she joined the other two down the stairs.


    Primrose walked towards the study, seeing the large silhouette of the Whale sitting inside. Upon entering, she saw Molam sitting at the far side of the table. His attention seemed focused on a sheet of paper filled with hastily scribbled notes. Madam Scarlette stood to the side, pouring tea for the Whale. The cup looked comically small in his large hands.


    "Master Ji. Madam Scarlette. Molam," she greeted each in turn, closing the door behind her.


    "Primrose," Madam Scarlette greeted in kind. Her veil was light orange-pink today, the color of a breaking dawn. She held up a cup and teapot. "Tea? A blend of tangerine pu''er, Master Ji''s favorite."


    "Yes, thank you." Primrose took the offered cup. The citrus of the dried tangerine peels had infused wonderfully into the brew, washing away the remnants of the candy she was eating earlier. But her eyes strayed towards the Whale in the room. "Madam, have you¡ª?"


    "Master Ji wanted to speak with Molam, and Molam wanted to speak with me. I invited them inside, since I''ve always thought my study is a great place for speaking," Madam Scarlette smiled. Her tone and manners seemed warm, but Primrose felt chills run down her spine at the unspoken words: don''t you dare. "And so, we gathered here."


    "I take it Aster didn''t agree?" Molam stated his question without looking up.


    "How did you know?" asked Primrose, half distracted by Madam Scarlette offering her a plate of pastries. There was a red bean bun.


    "Madam Scarlette told me more about him just now. I haven''t had a chance to meet him, but it didn''t sound like he was the type to give up on a dream," Molam underlined an item in his notes, then crossed another out. He looked up. "I''m sorry if that felt like a waste of your time."


    The red bean bun was purposefully closer to her and behind it, the Madam''s veiled gaze with a raised corner of her lips. Primrose took the bun. I know, I know. To Molam she answered, "I didn''t feel like it was a waste of my time."


    "I see. That''s good to hear, then," Molam replied. "And now I don''t need to worry about depriving the Sharks of their Captain."


    "Aha," said Madam Scarlette, sitting down at the table. Her hidden gaze focused on Molam''s notes, presumably having already memorized them. "Still unsure of whom to bring, young master Molam? Personnel assignment. An esoteric study requiring a delicate touch and firm decisions."


    "You and I assign people very differently, Madam Scarlette," Molam answered, his dry tone implying they had discussed the topic at length. Primrose suspected they had disagreed on something. Unfortunately, Scarlette did not respond to Molam, and Primrose couldn''t gain any more information without being direct.


    "Is that what Master Ji wanted to speak with you about?" she asked Molam, nibbling at the bun. "Assigning people? I assume¡­ to Oasis?"


    "Not quite," Molam replied, still writing down his notes. "He simply asked me to make Shurra stay so she could finish developing her Domain. He''s here, you know. You could ask him."


    Primrose raised her brow. Why Shurra? Achieving a Domain was the goal of every auramaster, but there seemed to be no set process for it. Even HuaLang Chamber had never successfully raised someone to use a Domain, despite having a Titled founder. She turned to Master Ji, who sipped quietly at his tea. "You are helping Shurra develop a Domain?"


    "Only in part," Master Ji responded, setting down his teacup. Madam Scarlette immediately leaned over to fill the cup with fresh tea; Primrose thought she saw the man''s lips twitch. "Thank you, Madam Scarlette."


    "It''s my pleasure, Master Ji," the Madam gave him her rare genuine smile. "And you can just call me Scarlette."


    But Primrose thought the topic of establishing a Domain was more important. "Can you help anyone develop a Domain, Master Ji?"


    "No," the Whale looked over to Primrose, regarding her with his dark eyes. "I suspect any auramaster can achieve it, but the hurdle has always been in the mind. This makes the path different for everyone. I am giving Shurra guidance, but I also caution her that my methods do not guarantee any results."


    "But that guidance could help more, no?" Primrose insisted, unwilling to drop the subject. "It can''t hurt to share. What are you having Shurra do?"


    The Whale frowned but answered, "Shurra has just learned how to count the total number of cats and dogs. She is now learning to tell the difference between cats and dogs."


    Somehow, the answer confused Primrose even more. What did that even mean? Surely Shurra knew the difference between cats and dogs? Was that why Shurra was feeding the strays ¡ª to tell apart the animals? And how exactly did recognizing the difference between animals help one develop a Domain?


    "So¡­?" Primrose looked from Master Ji to Molam and Madam Scarlette, expecting them to ask for clarification. Certainly she wasn''t the only one waiting for an explanation?


    "So I was telling Master Ji that it was fine as I can''t bring Shurra anyway," Molam reached into his clothes and brought out a glowing golden disc. It looked just the same as the contract he had obtained from the Mursa back in JiangXi. "Mursa Shang wouldn''t budge on the limited number of seats."


    He slid the golden disc towards Primrose, who trapped it against the edge of the table. She was still trying to comprehend why Master Ji''s words seemed to draw no further questions from the others. Part of her was beginning to wonder if she was the only one that thought learning to differentiate between cats and dogs was not the primary thing holding her back from developing a Domain. She studied the contract in her hand as she thought about it, watching the golden characters of the Old Tongue float in a circular manner within.


    "You haven''t accepted it yet?" she asked.


    "I have until tonight, since Mursa Shang isn''t leaving until the day after tomorrow, so we''ll have a day to prepare," answered Molam, marking one name and placing a similar mark near another group. "But I need to make sure this is the correct course of action. Once I accept that," he pointed at the disc in her hand, "We''re committed. The mursashu won''t bring us back until Mur is restored to livable conditions. It will give you a chance to decide if you''re coming too."


    Primrose blinked, surprised. "I''m the third one?" It wasn''t GloomSire or someone else?


    Molam looked up at the confusion in her voice. "Of course you are. Shurra is staying to¡ªhopefully¡ªdevelop her skills further under Master Ji''s guidance. Meanwhile, GloomSire and his bonds are recovering from their wounds. I understand the pixiu''s wing was broken and needs time to heal. That leaves you and Kalle to come with me to Oasis to restore Mur and secure jade."


    "Ah." That explained Molam¡¯s most recent list and increasingly complex annotations.


    "Now that I think about it, I never asked you. Though, I also didn''t really give Kalle a choice, and that''s why he''s taking a walk. Will you come with me to Oasis?" asked Molam.


    She finished the rest of her red bean bun, then said, "I suppose I always did promise Lyka I would see where she came from. But will that be enough?"


    Molam frowned. "What do you mean?"


    "I meant¡­" Primrose cast around for the correct words. "Weren''t you worried about being unable to speak to the Lord of Sands without Master Ji? Kalle and I aren''t exactly¡­ going to intimidate a man who is as old as the Empire of the Sun."


    "That''s been arranged," Molam pointed at the golden disc in her hands. "It''s not exactly Mursa Diyah, but we may have the three Mursa."


    It took a moment for Primrose to understand.


    "They¡­ agreed?" she asked incredulously. She vaguely remembered Molam mentioning that it was his demand to buy time, but she had never imagined it would bear fruit. "The three Mursa agreed to hand over full control to you?"


    "That''s what we were just discussing earlier," Madam Scarlette spoke up. She was standing next to Master Ji and refilling his tea again. By Primrose''s internal count, this must have been the sixth refill since she had entered the room. The Whale was either truly parched or too polite to refuse the cheerful Madam. "Molam came to ask me about Mursa Allyce."


    "She made a demand, with all three Mursas¡¯ support on the line," Molam added, setting down his brush. "Since we''ve never met, Mursa Allyce wants to test me herself before trusting me with the lives of her mursashu. An understandable point for someone in her position. The problem," he continued, blowing lightly at the ink to dry it, "is the test."


    "What could she have asked?" asked Primrose. She had never seen Molam act so delicately about a subject.


    "What do I, Mursa Allyce, want more than anything in the world?" Molam replied grimly.


    Primrose waited for more, then realized that was all of it. "What?"


    "It''s the test each Mursa takes before assuming their role," explained Madam Scarlette with a helpful smile.


    "That''s unbelievably vague, is it not?" Primrose pointed out, pushing the golden disc back to Molam. "It seems absurdly specific to her too."


    "That''s the goal of the test: to test a potential Mursa successor''s ability to discover what someone wants, often before they even know they want it. I was¡­" he paused, as though remembering something unpleasant, "on the receiving end of this yesterday when I initially met with Mursa Shang to discuss passage to Oasis."The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    But Primrose couldn''t stop thinking about the question. Petals learned very early that the art of seduction could be made easier by discerning what a potential target wanted even if the target themselves didn''t know it. But that had been limited to the fancies of the heart and desires of the flesh; the Mursa''s question seemed to go beyond that. "How¡­ would one even begin? Isn''t that the most intimate knowledge you could ever have about someone?"


    "It is," Molam agreed. He set down the sheafs of paper and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose the way he always did, before he added, "Well, it''s a fair test for the person who would command the Mursa themselves. I have until I meet Mursa Allyce in Oasis to come up with an answer."


    The disc gleamed innocently on the table, then a knock on the door broke the silence.


    "Enter," said Madam Scarlette.


    Flora opened the door, bringing with her a small stack of parchment. "You wanted this, Madam Scarlette."


    "Aha, finally. Thank you, Flora." The Madam gestured, and Flora put the stack on the table. "As you requested, Molam, all of HuaLang Chamber''s knowledge of Mursa Allyce. Unfortunately, she has spent most of her time trading in the Deep Waters around the Formosan Islands. If you could stay a while longer, I could spread out more Roots, but this is all we have at such short notice."


    "It''ll be better than nothing," Molam replied, flipping through the pages. "Thank you, Madam Scarlette. And you, Flora, for going through the records."


    "Well then ¡ª shall we start?" asked Primrose, pushing the contract towards Molam. "It''s our only way to reach Oasis, yes? It''s not like you can say no anymore; this is how we''re going to get jade."


    Molam laughed, but grimly. "Of course. You are very correct; how could I even think about hesitating? You are joining, right?"


    "Who else to keep you in check?" she responded. "You and Kalle will need my good looks to round out the trio."


    Amazingly, Molam rolled his eyes and Madam Scarlette laughed. Even Master Ji''s lips twitched.


    "Now my worries seem silly," Molam said as he brought the golden disc to his chest. It gleamed as the binding was set into motion. "I''m glad you''re able to make jokes."


    "All we have to do is travel to Oasis, buy from the Lord of Sands'' personal storage, restore Mur with the help of a spirit, and then journey back through the Endless Sands with the jade," summarized Primrose. "I never thought I''d say this, but I''m more confident in this than your usual improvised plans. There are a few complications, but they should be addressed, right?" She looked towards Master Ji, deferring to his experience. "Master Ji, do you have any issues with the plan at large?"


    "Nothing. Molam has made the correct decisions, given what he knows," the Whale of ZhiXia rumbled. "I can only say that well-thought-out plans tend to break apart because of circumstances you would have never predicted."


    "That worries me as well," Molam admitted. "However, luckily, I spent some time in Oasis a mere two Summers ago. How much could have changed?"


    <hr>


    Oasis, in the Endless Sands


    The Sun was beginning to set and Ryu sighed, looking away from the watchers on the tower. She noticed a flake of gray nestled in the crook of her dark elbow; dried salt from her own sweat, no doubt. Flicking it away, she reached for her water and took a long draught to replenish her body''s reserves. It flowed sweetly down her gullet, and she had to force her lips away from the cup, lest she overindulge. With only mild regret, she set the water down and covered the lid to minimize evaporation. She could have her fill later in the privacy of her office ¡ª it wouldn''t do for her people to see such an excessive display of wealth.


    But she had been sitting there since the afternoon and the Sun waited for no one. A part of Ryu was beginning to wonder if the scouts were wrong. They had waited for some time now and there was still no sign of Jyuyan''s group returning from their rushed expedition to the Black Pyramid.


    She motioned to her aide, who understood and shouted up to the watchers. "Anything?"


    One peeked his head over the guardrail, shaking his head. "No! They could be beyond the large dune but so far there''s nothing, Steward Ryu!"


    Ryu bit her lip. The rules were clear ¡ª the gates do not open after Sundown. If night fell and they hadn''t returned, they would be left to fend for themselves in the Sands.


    A death sentence, as Jyuyan''s group didn''t have the Spear or Shield with them.


    "Steward Ryu, it''s almost Sunset," her aide informed her.


    "I have eyes. I can see," she replied curtly, then softened her tone. "Sorry, Yanar. It''s been a long day and I''m tired, but that wasn''t anger directed at you."


    Yanar bowed, the setting Sun''s light gleaming off his shaved scalp. "It is nothing, Steward Ryu. It has been a long day for you."


    Ryu found her hand wandering back towards her cup and put it on her lap, considering Yanar as she waited. Yes, the apology was warranted. Yanar was fully capable and she had chosen him above all the other potential aides the Upper Tiers had pushed onto her. While Ryu didn''t care much for the blatant discrimination of skin color, she couldn''t bear to see Yanar''s talent go to waste just because of his vitiligo.


    She spoke up. "Your warning has been heard. We''re waiting until the Sun can no longer be seen before we declare Sundown." That was as much as Ryu could do. She had promised Jyuyan she would open the gates for him, but even she could not defy the Lord''s rules.


    "That is wise, Steward Ryu," Yanar bowed.


    "Steward Ryu!" a watcher shouted down to get her attention. She looked up ¡ª they were waving a blue flag. The signal that the group could be seen and was arriving. "I see a Sandrider!"


    "Open the gate!" she shouted, startling Yanar as she jumped to her feet to wave at the gatekeepers. They looked at each other, hesitating. Strict interpretations of the rules would state that gates did not open the moment the Sun reached the horizon. "OPEN THE GATE!" she demanded again, her voice louder, waving more frantically. "I''ll take responsibility as Steward! LET THOSE MEN IN!"


    The heavy grille creaked upwards, the gatekeepers straining against the wheel with reinforced strength. Sand shook from the metal construct as it lifted free from the ground. The vast expanse of the Endless Sands stretched out beyond the gate, its dunes rolling like waves in a sea. The Sun, now sinking towards the horizon, cast long shadows and painted the Sands in hues of gold and crimson. The gatekeepers, their faces etched with lines of effort and seasons spent under the scorching Sun, exchanged weary glances, their task almost complete.


    As the gate reached its apex, the creaking ceased, replaced by the sudden influx of men accompanying teams of camels pulling sand-sleds. The ones in the lead were clearly exhausted, but doing their best to continue forward into the courtyard so they could make space for those behind, also scrambling to enter. Two camels pulled each sled, each camel bearing a rider, a third man on the rear of the sled for stability on the rudder. The two Sandriders who had ridden ahead now circled back on their own camels, shouting encouragement at the others as they came through.


    The courtyard''s spearmen, standing in formation at the edge of the onrush, seemed apprehensive, holding their weapons at the ready as the sand sleds came through in pairs. "Clear!" they shouted at each interval, marking the initial check to ensure nothing unexpected had snuck in with the group.


    Then the onrush began to slow and, finally, the last sled came through.


    "Clear! Close the gate!"


    The chains were loosened and the gate came crashing down into the sand. Some of the sand jumped up in a cloudy puff, evidence of the gate¡¯s substantial weight. The individual bars that made up the gate were thicker than Ryu''s thighs for good reason: Sandwurms would charge through anything else.


    A Sandrider rode his camel around the tired group, shouting encouragement at the laborers as they dragged the sleds into a neat row. Another group of workers had come out and were busy unburdening the sleds. Ryu could see various pieces of mining equipment and unprocessed black jade being passed into the warehouses. Handlers ran towards their camels, unleashing them from their sleds to guide them inside towards the water buckets. The returning men themselves collapsed against their sleds, too exhausted to move and only nodding gratefully as others brought them cups of water.


    "Yanar, go help them," she commanded, then added, "And make sure every returning man gets two extra buckets of water."


    "Certainly, Steward Ryu."


    "There''s not even thirty," Ryu whispered to herself as Yanar took the stairs down to the courtyard. Two full rows sat before her, but the third was missing three, like a hand with an amputated finger. This morning, five full rows had departed. Jyuyan had estimated a need for eight, but there just hadn''t been enough time to assemble the men.


    "Is that all?" she shouted down at one of the Sandriders as he brought his camel to a handler, sliding off the harness and stumbling upon landing. His shield gleamed off his back. "Twenty-seven sleds? Jyuyan?"


    "What do you mean, ''is that all''?" Jyuyan shouted back hoarsely, pulling up his waterskin and taking a deep swig before continuing with a less raspy voice. "This is better than nothing!"


    "And how," Ryu asked dryly, "Am I supposed to report this to the Lord?"


    "Ryu, I don''t give a camel''s turd how you report it to the Lord. But I''m not going back out there to fight the wurms over what''s been lost now that it''s Sundown, if that''s what you''re suggesting." Jyuyan stomped up the stairs, gesturing at the rest of the men. "None of us are. You ordered an emergency recouping of all equipment and unprocessed jade from the Black Pyramid within the day and we did it with the barest of preparations. God Thraw be my witness, we did this without the Shield or Spear, in direct opposition to what I very much explicitly requested; you''re lucky we brought back anything at all," he finished with a glare, then took another deep gulp from the waterskin. "You received the forerunner''s report, yes?"


    "We did," Ryu admitted grimly. The forerunner had reported the group''s encounter with Sandwurms on the return trip. Perhaps the rest of the sleds, camels, and men were being swallowed whole. She shuddered at the thought. Ryu had never seen an attack, but she knew the stories. She whispered a prayer to God Gered and God Sholt that the men who were left behind had had time to bring their blades to their necks.


    "And you¡­ didn''t send the Spear or Shield?" Jyuyan asked in a cold voice. "Are you daft, or has the Sun finally got to your head?"


    "The Spear and Shield are busy pacifying the Upper Tiers," Ryu responded brusquely. She normally wouldn''t care, but they were in earshot of the workers. "Watch your tone, Jyuyan. I am a Steward for our Lord."


    "Don''t you dare pull rank on me, Ryu." The man stood to his full height to glare down at her. "You asked me to lead this expedition and I told you up front we''d need a Domain. You said that wasn''t possible and made me go, disregarding my reservations. I sent the forerunner when the Sandwurms attacked so you could make a call for the Shield or the Spear, but now I find out you again decided against that? Are the Upper Tiers'' feelings somehow more important than my men''s lives?" Jyuyan gestured behind him at the laborers, who were drinking greedily out of a small fountain, dipping their cups into the water within. "Even if they don''t care, do those old fogeys not think about how they''re going to secure jade in the future without us?"


    Ryu sighed in exasperation, then signaled to Yanar. He nodded with understanding, barking commands in her stead and instructing the workers to inspect the rest of the sleds. Then she walked close to Jyuyan, who was downing the last drops from his waterskin. "Come, Jyuyan. Let''s talk inside. I have more water."


    The man sighed. Jyuyan could never hold his anger for long, not at her. "I''m not done complaining about this expedition," he warned. She gave him a look of incensed toleration, then tilted her head towards the building and he followed.


    "For what it''s worth, I agree with you," she said as they walked together towards the building. "The Upper Tiers are all ¡ª"


    A health worker held out his hands, barring their way. "Steward Ryu," the man said respectfully, "Rider Jyuyan has yet to be cleared for re-entry."


    Jyuyan stuck out his arms, baring his wrists for the worker. The worker measured his pulse, pressed the back of a palm to Jyuyan''s forehead, then peered at his eyes. "Clear," the health worker declared, then put an ink stamp on the back of Jyuyan''s hand.


    "Thank you, Lysion," Ryu said, pulling Jyuyan with her.


    "Can''t believe we still do this every time we come back from the Black Pyramid," Jyuyan grumbled. "No one''s had the Plague in the centuries since DuskWing died. I don''t know a single person that''s ever contracted DuskWing''s Curse outside of Mur."


    "The Lord''s rules are absolute," Ryu murmured. "And he is careful because he remembers DuskWing''s Plague. As they say, all know the legend, but ¡ª"


    "Few remember the nightmare," Jyuyan finished for her. "Yes, yes, I know. You were saying something about the Upper Tiers and how this somehow meant it was acceptable for my men to be slaughtered like flightless quails." They rounded a corner together before he continued, "I lost many friends today, Ryu. Friends that died because we couldn''t possibly save them all. You owe me an explanation."


    "You''ll get one, though I doubt it''ll satisfy you at all." Ryu pointed to her study, waving aside the two guards that stood at attention. Upon entering, she made straight for the pitchers on her desk as Jyuyan sat down.


    "Thank you," he said, accepting a pitcher and cup. He poured for himself, looking at the water. "Very clean. Straight from the source?" His tone had changed; more relaxed, less stressed. The wonders of being offered clean water.


    "Perks of being our Lord''s Steward," Ryu replied, sitting down opposite him and sighing from exhaustion. It had been a long day. She poured for herself and sipped her water, then dipped her finger in a plate of pure salt before passing the plate to Jyuyan. They both enjoyed their delights silently for some time, replenishing the body''s needs. Ryu noticed that Jyuyan still had a habit of mixing salt with his water, whereas she preferred to taste it separately.


    "You were telling me about the Upper Tiers?" he asked after some time.


    Ryu winced at the topic. "It''s a mess here, all because the Upper Tiers are suddenly reminded of what funds their lifestyles. The uproar from that attempted water heist from WellWardyn''s reservoir several days ago is still being sorted out. You could say that the Upper Tiers are in a tense mood, now that the Head Priestess has warned us about the Black Pyramid."


    "If they care so much about jade, they can mine it themselves," Jyuyan glowered darkly. "No doubt whatever''s processed from what we brought back will go for over a hundred times the normal price, while my men are left begging for cups in a few weeks."


    "I told my aide to send your men back home with an extra two buckets of water each, you know," Ryu gave Jyuyan a disappointed look. "I''m very grateful you all took this expedition with such little notice."


    "Tell that to my friends who died," he responded savagely, then his expression softened. "Sorry. You didn''t deserve that. I¡­ I''m the one who messed up."


    She pushed the salt plate towards him again. "Don''t blame yourself, blame the Sandwurms. It''s not like you called them."


    He ignored the salt plate, leaning back on his couch to put his arm over his face to hide his eyes. "Just make sure their families are correctly compensated."


    "I can do the paperwork and apply pressure, but Fontayneer and WellWardyn are currently skittish."


    Jyuyan lifted his arm, staring at her. "What do you mean? What''s wrong with the banks?"


    "Weren''t you listening? The attack on the reservoir has them wary. They aren''t making any more water loans, citing the current unpredictable conditions," Ryu shook her head. "And the Lord has not opened his doors to me. Or any of the other two Stewards, to be fair. But understand: I''m working on getting you the water you need. I plan on talking to Aquifyer next."


    "Well, do what you need to do to get my men their water, Ryu," Jyuyan replied, his voice hard. "And we better not be paid in credit this time. People need water for their families too."


    "I''m trying, Jyuyan. I really am," Ryu said. She couldn¡¯t prevent an edge creeping into her tone. "This is more complicated than you know. The other Stewards are siding with the banks. I just need time during these ''extraordinary'' circumstances, and a Steward''s duties are endless."


    "Fine, fine," Jyuyan held up his hands to signal peace. A fingertip was still dusted white with salt.


    "I wanted to ask about the other thing I asked you to confirm." said Ryu, changing the topic as she refilled her cup.


    "I was hoping you would forget about that," Jyuyan responded, sipping his water. He closed his eyes and sighed, then said, "But how could you, I suppose? It was the real reason you had me do this expedition."


    Ryu waited, then when Jyuyan offered nothing else, prodded in a terse command. "Well?!"


    The Rider sighed, keeping his eyes closed. "So the answer is¡­ yes. I saw it. The Head Priestess was right." He paused uncomfortably, then admitted, "A dragon has claimed the Black Pyramid."


    Ryu gripped her cup tighter. A dragon. Confirmed.


    "You''re absolutely certain," she said slowly, keeping her voice steady. Was the Head Priestess''s message true? She had wanted it to be a farce, but¡­


    "I saw it with my own eyes as we were dragging out the last sled." Jyuyan opened his eyes, a look of defeat on his tired face. "I''ve seen statues and depictions of the other dragons, Ryu. Moreover, nothing in the Sands goes to the Black Pyramid. Besides the Sandwurms, but no gaping maw of sharp teeth."


    Ryu took a slow, measured, deep breath.


    "This¡­ changes everything." Ryu leaned forward, elbows on her knees as she kneaded the tips of her fingers into her head to stave off the oncoming headache. Her mind whirled with everything she had learned about history and tried to fit this latest bit of information into the maelstrom of recent events.


    "A dragon," she muttered, as though saying it aloud would help formulate her thoughts. "A dragon has come to claim the Black Pyramid."


    Jyuyan sat up, worrying lines creasing his dark face. "Do you think¡­ we''ll have a return of Summer''s Plague?"


    "I don''t know," Ryu shook her head. "Attacks on the reservoir. The banks are tightening up water credit. The Lord hasn''t opened his doors since the Festival of the Hero. Our food supply dwindles while the wells dry up, all while the population grows. And now a dragon has taken over the Black Pyramid, meaning our supply of jade may be cut off. I just don''t know, Jyuyan. But I fear¡­ this Summer in Oasis will be quite different."

 Eighth Interlude

    Various notes sent to Head Scholar Lauryn of the Fallen Star Pavilion.


    <hr>


    Lauryn,


    I should not have raised my voice at you earlier today. My frustration got the better of me. That was unfair to you, and I apologize.


    Call me stubborn for bringing up a tired topic, but I worry about tomorrow''s vote. This is certainly a poor way to follow up on my apology, but I hope you consider this an admission of how important I deem the situation at hand. The matter of the new dragon must be addressed even if I risk worsening our friendship over it.


    I strongly disagree with ZuanBing''s stance and think we must start sending out information to the Empire and the Cities. Knowledge will be their best defense. This is why we have been revising the manuals: preparing the Cities for the possibility of a resurgence of the Plague. This information will be crucial for maximizing the survival rate in each City if the new dragon brings the Plague again.


    ZuanBing believes we are acting too hastily, and that we risk panicking the Cities without properly verifying our concerns. But what is the purpose of knowledge if all we do is sit on it? This goes against the Pavilion''s First Law: The Pavilion will actively share its knowledge with mankind in a way that is comprehensive, unbiased, and understandable.


    It is better to pacify each City afterwards than to let them stay ignorant of the potential danger now hanging over us, like the shadow of a half-broken tree limb. A new dragon has arrived and we have no idea what it wants or how it will change the lives we have come to expect in the last four centuries. We need to prepare the people even if nothing changes.


    And do you really believe that nothing will change? The Red Emperor and the Nine Lords put an end to Summer''s Plague when they subjugated DuskWing. DawnWing became IceMourne and lay claim to Winter, bringing about the dreaded frost. The death tolls from the first decade of Winter''s Sorrows paint a gruesome picture as to what we can expect should this new dragon be anywhere close to the beginning of IceMourne''s era.


    I believe in your kindness. The time to act is now. The Pavilion should, at the very least, disseminate the information to each City Lord. Let each City Lord decide if they can prepare their City without mass hysteria.


    I hope you vote accordingly tomorrow.


    Your friend,


    Yuya


    <hr>


    To Head Scholar Lauryn,


    I ask that you vote nay tomorrow when Head Scholar Yuya brings up the matter of sending preliminary field manuals to each of the Cities.


    Head Scholar Yuya is trying to prevent a problem that we have yet to confirm. I am trying to prevent ourselves from causing a problem. We stand to lose much if the Cities take drastic, and more importantly unnecessary, measures because they trust the Pavilion to deliver accurate and precise information.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    We have had our differences, but I believe we defer to each other''s expertise in our specific areas of study. Head Scholar Yuya specializes in dragons, and I specialize in sociology.


    I do not remind you of my field because I believe it gives my opinion on the matter more weight. No; I am concerned because I understand what happens when humans panic. Group stupidity and the rapid formation of in-groups and out-groups can be counted among the unifying factors contributing to each fallen City throughout history.


    In case you are wondering about the excessive amount of reading material, I have included four volumes for you, bookmarked at relevant sections to show you what I mean. If you do not wish to spend time reading each of them, I ask only that you read The Rise and Fall of Aedynn, Section Nine, Solca''s Lament.


    The Pavilion''s Second Law guides us clearly: The Pavilion will prioritize mankind''s continued existence, even if the Pavilion''s existence is at stake.


    No amount of hedging could prevent this announcement from creating anarchy at a scale that will result in the utter collapse of multiple societies. If the Cities receive the field manuals, they will act, regardless of how much caution we include alongside them. And I cannot deny my empathy. It would be foolish for each City Lord to disregard the warnings, as the Plague''s effects are so well documented in each City''s Library.


    However, this will then cascade downwards to the general populace. It is impossible for each City Lord to prepare the necessary measures intended to prevent the Plague''s spread without throwing their people into panic.


    I have sent a rider to Sanctuary to respectfully ask why the Oracle did not tell us about the new dragon, but it is unlikely to solve the immediate problem. The population isn''t ready. No one is, not after four centuries, and with this so unannounced.


    It will not be too late to send out the manuals until after we have confirmed whether or not the new dragon of Summer also commands the Plague.


    Respectfully yours,


    Head Scholar ZuanBing


    <hr>


    To Lauryn,


    I don''t have much of an opinion about tomorrow''s vote. Both Yuya and ZuanBing have made compelling arguments about the matter of sending out field manuals for each City to guide them on how to prepare for the Plague.


    Realistically, I want to abstain from voting. You know I hate fighting, especially among friends, and I know they will see my vote less as a vote than as me taking a side. To see us so divided on this issue makes me sick.


    But although we must make a decision, the Third Law of our Pavilion is clear: The Pavilion will strive to continuously learn and improve its knowledge, ensuring its continued relevance and accuracy.


    I believe this falls onto our shoulders as Head Scholars. Is our internal division not a strong indicator that we do not understand the truth of the matter? If we had clear, accurate, and actionable information, none of us would be in disagreement. The light of knowledge illuminates all paths, and we find ourselves in darkness. Apologies for the weak metaphor.


    Instead, I have a suggestion. We should consult Head Scholar Panmoru.


    I understand this will cause everyone unease. This is not a light suggestion. We all witnessed his reaction when informed of Flangel the Wise''s death. But the dead are with God Yven, and the living still depend on our collective role as keepers of knowledge.


    I know the other two will disagree. I expect you to approach this idea with hesitation; we all want to give Head Scholar Panmoru the solitude he needs to grieve. But Head Scholar Panmoru is one of the few alive who remembers a time when DuskWing flew and the Plague spread throughout the Cities.


    Our collective Sorrows amount to no more than two centuries¡ªnot even half of his lifetime. He was the one who wrote the Pavilion''s Three Laws and oversaw the creation of the original field manual for combating the Plague''s spread. It is by his decision that the Pavilion updates it once every decade, even though some consider it a waste of time.


    If we have the privilege of first-hand experience and do not seek its wisdom during these uncertain times, what else can we rely on? I fundamentally believe he will know what is best, both for the Pavilion and for the Cities.


    The Panmoru we know will eventually forgive us for interrupting his requested solitude. He is a Head Scholar first and foremost.


    As are we all.


    Dayton


    P.S. I hope you can still make it to our weekly brunch tomorrow. I have been experimenting with strawberry cakes and I think you''ll like this batch. No, I won''t be using that time to convince you further. Cake time is not work time.

 [Author Notes] Behind the Pages: Looking back at book 2, part 1

    This first part will discuss: When does the story take on a life of its own?, and part 2 will attempt to do an honest assessment of how well I applied it to my creation process. For those of you who like my art, want to know a bit of my thought processes, or just want to know how the story came about, this is for you.


    There¡¯s a lot to review with book 2 given it¡¯s almost double the length of book 1. Book 1 was extremely condensed due to me trying to fit the limitations of traditional publishing at the time, so several plotlines and quite a bit of world-exploration were cut out in favor of the plot. Book 2 was definitely a chance for me to stretch my legs and explore a bit more about the world beyond just the plot, so there¡¯s more to talk about. Additionally, Book 2 developed in ways I did not expect, being almost wholly unplanned.


    As always, the following is just my opinion. You may disagree with me on certain things, and I certainly invite the discussion! I don¡¯t mean for it to be treated as scripture given I¡¯m just cataloguing my own thoughts on the topic. My goal is to actually come back to this in the future and have new perspective on it, as that will be how I determine my growth as an author.


    So without further ado, here¡¯s the main topic of this Behind the Pages, Part 1.


    When does the story take on a life of its own?


    Storytellers will have different answers, but here¡¯s mine: When you lose control of them.


    Just don¡¯t forget to reel them back, as I''ll explain.


    I often describe Below the Heavens not as a story I¡¯m telling, but just a story that¡¯s already happened and one I¡¯m recording. (Hence why I can identify with the Scholars of the Fallen Star Pavilion.) Yes, as the storyteller I¡¯m still weaving individual bits of my imagination together into a coherent story, but the reason it took me multiple rewrites of the first volume was because it didn¡¯t have that sense of ¡°life¡± in it yet.


    And while others who participate in the art of breathing life into things will have their own way of judging whether they¡¯ve achieved that state, I had to ask myself how I personally knew I¡¯ve accomplished it. And the answer is when they wrestle free of my control, and the characters, plot, or world demand something of me that I have no choice but to put in. The characters are now driving the plot, free of the invisible puppeteer strings that I, their creator, have put on them, and doing things their own way in a way that makes sense to them.


    At that point, I¡¯m not really driving anymore. The characters are behind the wheel, driving the car known as the plot on the road known as my world, Below the Heavens. I¡¯m just the writer chronicling the events.


    (Quick note: If you haven¡¯t read Below the Heavens yet, hi! This is not written to be spoiler free, as I like to talk about my philosophy and thoughts on the creation process by examining my own work, the creation process, and why/how I arrived at the final manuscript.)


    <h2>Losing Control</h2>


    The broad strokes of Book 2: Beyond a Broken Horizon are almost wholly unplanned on my part. The Festival of the Hero was supposed to be a quick 1-2 chapters of Molam shoving Fiery One¡¯s egg into the Great Bonfire to make the rebirth happen. Afterwards, a few chitchats, then off to Oasis we go. Sands Under a Silent Sun was originally supposed to be Book 2 instead of Book 3.


    As you can tell, that didn¡¯t happen. When scoping out what was going on, I asked myself what each party wanted to do, particularly the opposing party¡¯s goals and more importantly, what they¡¯re actively doing to achieve their goals.


    An inactive antagonist is a story aspect I often find unpalatable. Can you imagine how boring the Lord of the Rings would be if there were no Nazgul hunting down Sam and Frodo? Just following a meandering journey of the Fellowship of the Ring as they figure out how they want to reach Mt. Doom, with little pressure from Sauron¡¯s forces because they¡¯re easily distracted? Yeah, just take your time delivering the One Ring, it¡¯s not like Sauron can move!


    (Uh, spoilers for those who don¡¯t know the Lord of the Rings story, I guess?)


    So I took at look at what the Empire is up to. The primary antagonist is sleeping it off, sure. But there¡¯s others, and they¡¯re not a bunch of headless chickens. They just happen to need to oversee an Empire, but they have a plot-relevant objective too: wanting to present Flangel¡¯s Ring to their Prince. (Now that I¡¯m doing this write-up, I realized there¡¯s a lot of parallels with LotR, particularly all that hullaballoo over a Ring. I swear this is a happy coincidence!)


    And that¡¯s when I lost control of the story. The Empire of the Sun¡¯s characters demanded their side of the story be told too.


    What¡¯s it look like to lose control?


    Well then. Assuming the antagonist forces aren¡¯t the type to wait around for results, they¡¯re going to act. And since what they want is either Nettie or the Ring, and both are in ZhiXia City where our main protagonists are, we have the makings of a conflict.


    Excellent, we love conflicts. Non-slice-of-life and non-power-fantasy stories are exactly that: conflict. In fact, this is what I tell almost all worldbuilders who want to tell an epic story: pick the most important conflict in history and start there. The ¡°interesting times¡± are horrendous times for the ones who have to live through it. Look at how some of the most popular stories for us today are about the World Wars or other famous power struggles in history! Can you imagine if Dune had no conflict? Ah yes, just have an easy transfer of power over an entire planet, go collect some melange, become buddy buddy with the Fremen, get high on spice-coffee with your new pals, and casually wake up from your psychedelic trip and realize you became Padishah Emperor.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    (Uh, spoilers for those who don¡¯t know the Dune story, I guess?)


    Where was I? Right! The characters are driving the plot-car on the road-world. In this case, the Empire¡¯s faction is in charge now, and it¡¯s their agency that breathes life into them. The author¡¯s job is now to realize this is the interesting timeline, and it¡¯s time to just be an observer of the ride. (Insert meme: Look at me. I am the storyteller now.)


    Character, plot, and world agency is found in doing what they want, not what the author wants


    There¡¯s a fine balance between making components serve the story, and having the components come together to become a story. I firmly believe that all stories that feel alive fall into the latter.


    Side note: there is absolutely a place for tight stories by storytellers who can correctly wrangle together multiple components together to fit their vision of the story. In fact, most of the good horror films fall under this, as those are primarily plot-driven stories which characters participate in. The problem is when the plot demands certain aspects, the storyteller is forced to make a few telegraphed moves. If done well, they don¡¯t ruin the suspension of disbelief, but in-service-of-the-plot hijinks are often forced. A good example: horror movie character does something so stupid you want to shout at them through the screen. There can be no better decision than running down into the cellars to hide from a serial killer.


    Characters with agency are trying to influence their own direction in your story. When they come to life, they¡¯re not puppets at the storyteller¡¯s whim. You can¡¯t just make them do what you want anymore; if it¡¯s not aligned with what they want, they will fight you tooth and nail to get to what they want. For readers, it becomes painfully obvious even if they can¡¯t quite explain why the plot feels contrived or a character¡¯s decision feels forced. Kind of like watching a cat ¡°walk¡± after you put socks on their paws</a> ¡ª it¡¯s still a cat, it knows how to cat, but whoo boy it is not cat-ing.


    And here¡¯s why most authors have difficulty with this or choose not to do it: it is very hard to herd cats.


    We¡¯re storytellers at the end of the day: our audience expects us to tell a coherent and interesting story. The less control we have over the story, the more likely we risk losing our audience. You can actually see this often in movies, where the script is mercilessly cut down and edited for the plot to take precedence over all else. This is why authors tend to keep a tight leash on their cats; it makes the herding significantly easier.


    But as we all know, cats are going to cat. You can leash one, but its participation level is not always one of compliance. A determined author can drag an uncooperative character through a contrived plot, but then no one is happy ¡ª not the character, not the author, and the reader must hold their nose because they can often tell what¡¯s going on.


    <h2>So what¡¯s the balance?</h2>


    Yeah, how should a storyteller herd their cats?


    After all is said and done it¡¯s still necessary. The plot does often take precedence over anything else because that¡¯s what we¡¯re here for. But it shouldn¡¯t come at the cost of characters doing uncharacteristic things to get to our story destination. The art, then, is found in figuring out how to frame and design the plot so that we arrive as naturally as possible. In short, storytellers are still trying to do top-down design while convincing the readers that it¡¯s all bottom-up.


    From the storyteller¡¯s perspective, your storytelling loop should look like:


    <ul>


    <li>I know where I want to go, destination-wise, but I cannot walk there myself</li>


    <li>So I have these characters and gave them a car</li>


    <li>And as they drive, these plot points are our rest stops, but the characters know nothing</li>


    <li>How do I get them to drive to the next stop without the reader knowing there¡¯s a Google Map guiding them? Which character is most likely to make a set of decisions that will drive us there?</li>


    </ul>


    And from the reader¡¯s perspective, the journey should be like:


    <ul>


    <li>These characters are making decisions unique or understandable for them, based on their own goals and/or philosophy</li>


    <li>And through their actions or inactions, cause certain consequences to happen in the world around them</li>


    <li>Which forces other characters or entities to act, either in response or in tandem</li>


    <li>This set of, ideally, interwoven activities with a push-pull interaction between multiple conflicting parties, leads the reader with them to the next plot point</li>


    </ul>


    I think this balance of light guidance is the crux of how you achieve living, breathing characters that feel real. Many storytellers should have a good example of how a plot point felt contrived and forced, and it took them many iterations to fine-tune those scenes so it felt natural. As an example, it can be as subtle as shifting a fight to the night so it ends at daybreak, meaning some people were drawn towards the dawn and naturally get embroiled into a new mess.


    My final bit of advice to writers (for now) is to remove all traces of your interference, and you do that by doing anything you can to avoid directing the characters. Don¡¯t take the wheel of the car! Add redirections in the highway and roads; construction zone here, detour here, oh no the car¡¯s carburetor broke down¡­ now we need to go to that gas station there which totally does not look like the next plot point¡­ you get the idea.


    And for readers, make it a little game for yourself! When you realize the scene has changed and/or there¡¯s a new plot development, ask yourself how we got there. Ideally, your first instinct is ¡°oh, XYZ caused this new thing to happen¡± and not ¡°well it looks like we have to do this next even though it makes no sense, so it¡¯s happening I guess.¡±


    Applying it to my work


    Well, here¡¯s where the spoilers start going into overdrive! You¡¯ve been warned! Part 2 will discuss how book 2 was quite character driven and I had so many cats to herd all of a sudden. It will discuss how three different categories being active drove each of the main arcs:


    <ul>


    <li>Characters ¡ª The Empire of the Sun¡¯s Titled Ones actively wanted to find Nettie or Flangel¡¯s Ring, thus giving us that lengthy battle with the OutCast</li>


    <li>Plot ¡ª Constantly ¡°active¡± as it¡¯s more of the conveyor belt. Honestly, a conveyor belt metaphor for how you can tell stories is pretty good, someone remind me to talk about that sometime.</li>


    <li>Worldbuilding ¡ª Surprise, surprise, other people exist and, given a reputable person¡¯s long life, they¡¯ve had a lot of time to make unexpected enemies too.</li>


    </ul>


    Finally, to whet your appetite, Part 2 will discuss - spoiler alert! you¡¯ve been warned! - : Why I almost went through


    with killing off the Whale of ZhiXia.

 [Author Notes] Behind the Pages: Looking back at book 2, part 2

    Spoiler alert for those who haven¡¯t actually read my story. This is part 2 where I self-assess how well I applied part 1¡¯s thoughts on making the story and characters feel alive. It will definitely examine the events of book 2 and discuss how they came to be, meaning it is spoiler-ridden!


    Ok, ready? I¡¯m telling you, major spoilers! Skip this if you plan on reading my series!


    <hr>


    So how well did I lose control and reel it back?


    So, here¡¯s a major bombshell: The Whale of ZhiXia, Ji WuMing, was originally going to die in this book. But not from the fight with the Empire¡¯s four Titled Ones, no. The strongest known character with actual page time was not slated to get killed in a fight with insurmountable odds. He was going to die out of moral obligation, sentenced to death by the very people he had sworn to protect, in the "Aftermath Arc".


    Wait, how did we get here in the first place, you may ask? Well here¡¯s the quick summary:


    <ul>


    <li>After the events of book 1, Molam gets what he wants, but finds that it¡¯s not what he really wanted. Having had a taste of life outside of the Castle, he finds himself unable to just go back to a sheltered life on his own. This is especially true when he discovers the one individual he sought the company of had already left.</li>


    <li>Following that and several other plotlines, Molam decides that he¡¯ll at least finish what he started regarding Fiery One¡¯s rebirth. This brings him back down to ZhiXia City.</li>


    <li>Meanwhile, the Empire is pursuing the SunFlower¡¯s design, which causes almost all of the events of book 2. Nearly everything following this decision was more or less unplanned by me.</li>


    <li>Hum-dee-da, Festival of the Hero, where we explore this tiny part of the world a bit as set-up before allowing everything to coalesce into a plot avalanche.</li>


    <li>Next, a lengthy fight with Roxxa (20k words is 1/3rd your average novel), which caused a lot of destruction in the City. As a funny side note: Molam and his companions only fought against a severely weakened Roxxa. I¡¯d say she was at just under 20% after she used the Prince¡¯s token to break free from Ji¡¯s imprisoning ice. That being said, she did her best with a maimed hand and with minimal aura reserves.</li>


    <li>After Roxxa¡¯s rampage, Aster of the Sharks decided that this was the straw that broke the camel¡¯s back. Sure, Ji didn¡¯t cause the damage; but his decision to pursue the three Titled Ones instead of staying to defend ZhiXia City indirectly enabled Roxxa¡¯s rampage. While it¡¯s true that Aster does not hate Ji, it¡¯s hard to decouple Aster¡¯s negative opinion of Ji¡¯s absences with poor outcomes. Everything Aster explained is a real problem in ZhiXia.</li>


    </ul>


    By the way, I ¡ª the storyteller, me ¡ª didn¡¯t know any of this was going to happen when looking at the initial plot. I seriously thought we were going to Oasis, except the above happened. Oh ¡ª and Ji died, because it felt natural.


    That¡¯s when I knew I¡¯d lost control. Something was about to happen that would have quite a few ramifications. Okay, reel it in. Let¡¯s explore what that looks like¡­


    ¡­oh right, Ji¡¯s story isn¡¯t done yet. Ok hmm, is it worth it to still¡­? Let¡¯s see what the beta reader thinks¡­ Ah. Wait, Ji has a fan?


    Well, this is awkward.


    <h2>What made it almost worth it</h2>


    Ji¡¯s death, while surprising even to me when I was writing it out, would have been extremely fitting for the story.


    To start with, a major theme of book 2 was critiquing two forms of government: authoritarianism and democracy. Molam flirts dangerously close to problematic ideals that are often associated with fascism and authoritarianism, and I let both the Oracle and Ji correct his course. That being said, I hope it makes sense why Molam has these thoughts given his background and the way he sees the world.


    (Just in case it¡¯s not clear, I have two wiser characters talk Molam down because I 100% disagree with those ideals. Molam isn¡¯t perfect, and he should never come across as perfect. He can be wrong despite his better-than-average mind because he¡¯s still influenced by his circumstances. It¡¯s unfortunate, but fascism and authoritarianism are easy to fall into precisely because it¡¯s attractive to even a logical mind. Molam in particular is susceptible to this line of thinking because of his past.)


    For Molam, a community vote was the primary cause of his death. Ask any one person to kill a child in the hopes it would bring rain and save the harvest ¡ª many could not. But ask an entire community of hungry people to vote on it, and suddenly the responsibility is diffused.


    This sets the stage for Ji¡¯s death in order to serve the theme. He defends the system of vote, telling Molam off for sharing the same ideals as the tyrants and despots that have occasionally sprung up. Ji puts so much emphasis on allowing the community to choose that he willingly submits to arrest and jail.


    Ironically, it would have been the very system and people he protected who will sentence him to death by suicide. Ji would have obeyed because in his mind he not only deserves it, but to disregard the results of the vote would be anti-democratic.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    However, Democracy is also not above criticism. As Churchill once said, ¡°democracy is the worst form of Government except for all those other forms that have been tried¡±.


    This series of circumstances illustrates something best summed up as: there is no right or wrong, only consequences. A specific character¡¯s observation in Meditations.


    <h2>Reeling it back</h2>


    Changing a character death because of a beta reader feedback will never ¡ª wait, that¡¯s too strong ¡ª should never happen again. It only happened this time because:


    <ul>


    <li>I was wholly unprepared for the plot to go this direction, which was when I realized I had lost too much control.</li>


    <li>The result of going through with it would have scrapped much of what I had already planned for BtH¡¯s 9 books.</li>


    <li>I wanted to finish Ji¡¯s story without relying on flashbacks and memory scenes.</li>


    </ul>


    For the curious, I briefly entertained writing out a full ¡°What if?¡± side-story. The reason that didn¡¯t happen was because when I outlined the ripple effects of Ji¡¯s death, everything changed.


    Let''s go through an overview of what happens:


    ZhiXia¡¯s happenings, around our main cast


    <ul>


    <li>Changes from the immediate plot


    <ul>


    <li>Despite Molam¡¯s best maneuvers, the speed at which the vote happened was too much. The vote for whether Ji is guilty would have been decided on 1 vote, after which the Sharks would pronounce Ji to be guilty as charged. Ji would then say his last words in front of the crowd, echoed throughout ZhiXia City, then drive an icicle through his heart.</li>


    <li>Before Madam Scarlette and Primrose could have time to fully process what just happened, GloomSire and Kalle would crash down from the skies, chased by Ruskru and Rei. Primrose recognizes that if the Eclipse has personally shown up for this, they must desperately need a Master Alchemist. Ruskru is stunned by the sight of Ji¡¯s corpse, so much that he temporarily forgets he was in the middle of a chase. Primrose seizes the chance to drag Kalle towards Sanctuary, hoping Molam noticed the sudden change in events.</li>


    <li>The Oracle noticed, alerting Molam to the sequence of events. Molam mourns for Ji while he dashes out to help escort Kalle into Sanctuary, but Ruskru¡¯s Domain has fully extended without challenge after setting Rei to keep Yao-ren in check. Molam and Primrose are doing their best to pull Kalle into Sanctuary¡¯s borders, but Ruskru has trapped Kalle¡¯s lower half outside. The Eclipse says that he would prefer not to cripple Kalle, but would if he needs to.</li>


    <li>GloomSire¡¯s fight with the Tempest gets close, and Molam signals to GloomSire to force the Tempest into a fight close to YiZhi Mountain right above Sanctuary. After his initial confusion, GloomSire determines that Molam¡¯s curious hand gesture meant to signal that the Tempest¡¯s aura detection was now covered by the Eclipse¡¯s Domain. Understanding Molam¡¯s plan, he drags Rei into a fight where she touches the Domain surrounding Sanctuary. This fulfills the requirement for the Submerged Leviathan to interfere since it¡¯s no longer a ¡°worldly¡± affair, and the Empire¡¯s two Titled Ones are forced to retreat to bring an end to that arc.</li>


    <li>Tee-dle-dee-hum, Molam now has to negotiate with the mursashu on reaching Oasis. There¡¯s a lot more mourning, and a special bonfire is held for cremating the Whale of ZhiXia.</li>


    </ul>


    </li>


    <li>The immediate aftermath, macro-scale


    <ul>


    <li>In ZhiXia City alone, the sudden loss of the Whale of ZhiXia would result in some grim developments such as the resurgence of other bandits and unsavory crime sprees across the City. This doesn¡¯t necessarily mean Aster of the Sharks made the wrong call. As mentioned, there is no right or wrong, only consequences. In this case, Aster simply wanted there to be an impetus for change, but the people who have lived with the peace brought about by the Whale of ZhiXia¡¯s existence don¡¯t remember how turbulent it was before. Can¡¯t blame them; it¡¯s been almost a century since ZhiXia City saw any real turmoil.</li>


    <li>HuaLang Chamber would have been forced to recall multiple stationed Flowers to help the Sharks deal with a mess that Sanctuary deemed worldly affairs, aka ¡°not something we interfere with.¡±</li>


    </ul>


    </li>


    <li>Across the Central Valley, news of the Whale of ZhiXia¡¯s death would ripple through the Free Cities and the Empire alike.


    <ul>


    <li>The Empire would have a mixed reaction. While he had defected decades ago, Ji was never replaced as the de facto Commander of the Red Army. That being said, Ji WuMing is technically an enemy of the Empire, having caused incalculable amounts of damage when he fought the Prince eight decades ago.</li>


    <li>Despite this fact, the death of Ji would cause a giant rift within the Titled Ones of the Empire and its various Cities as well. Crescent City, Falysos, and Exabell still consider Ji to be a hero from the Frost Saint¡¯s Rebellion, and many of the Free Cities have their own stories of Ji¡¯s positive affects on them.</li>


    <li>This chaos, made worse by the current sleeping status of the Empire¡¯s Prince, would have resulted in the Empire¡¯s Titled Ones choosing to make a full-on assault on ZhiXia City. Their reasoning would be to secure it so they could give the Prince a foothold to fight the Submerged Leviathan again when he woke up.</li>


    <li>The other Free Cities, understanding this and seeing that ZhiXia City no longer had its defending Titled One, would have been forced to band together to wage all-out war on the Empire while condemning ZhiXia City¡¯s residents, with four of the Free Cities contemplating capturing ZhiXia City for themselves.</li>


    <li>And that¡¯s all in the two Sorrows before the Prince wakes up!</li>


    </ul>


    </li>


    </ul>


    In short, the story Below the Heavens would have changed drastically. I was in the middle of figuring out what part our main cast would be playing in this cock-up cascade when I realized nope nope nope, no can do. I¡¯m going back to my original plan; just with a few slight changes.


    <hr>


    And that¡¯s the story of how I lost control, explored where that would lead to, then reeled it back in! I¡¯m somewhat glad it happened because that¡¯s when I realized that my cats were cat-ing and it was still on me to herd them correctly. By tracing it all back to Ji¡¯s death and realizing, okay, this is that turning point, I had to make the difficult decision to undo it.


    I 100% still hope to find myself losing control in the future! Because then I¡¯ll know the story really is taking on a life of its own.


    Cheers, and thanks for reading.


    CKMo, Scholar of the Fallen Star Pavilion

 Ch 71: Aliyah

    We are born twice.


    The first birth is when we come into the world. As children, we are able to appreciate its grandeur and novelty. Each discovery is delightful; the mystique of the unknown is an adventure just waiting to happen. Happy is the inner child when discovering the perfect smooth stone or the sword-shaped stick.


    The second birth is when we come to understand the world. We turn over the stone and see what was hiding underneath, the grotesque that had been just out of sight. The stick slips in the hand and the splinters dig into the skin, to fester in the wound.


    It is this second life where we discover the ugly truth: the world has always been dangerous beyond measure.


    ¡ª Excerpt from Meditations, by the Red Emperor


    <hr>


    Oasis, underground


    "Hold the light up, I can''t see."


    Aliyah heard Troy sigh as he lifted the torch higher, unsure if the increased height truly did anything for illuminating the darkness of the tunnels. She gingerly checked her feet, trying to ensure her sandals didn''t step into the sewage just beneath them.


    "Tyson, we can''t be wasting our time just getting in, you know." Ayden flicked a finger against his spear impatiently. The reverberation echoed into the distance, seemingly magnified by the walls of the tunnels. "The bulk of the time is supposed to be for carrying the water out."


    "You want to carve the runes? Be my guest," Tyson grumbled as he continued to carve golden lines into the wall. "I don''t see you or Troy helping out."


    "You''re the alchemist. Ayden''s the head of this operation, so he''s responsible for thinking and constantly frowning. That means I''m the one who has to hold this torch up while looking handsome." Troy winked at Aliyah and Yelena. "As handsome as I can look while carrying all of these buckets, at least." He lifted his spear, rocking a line of empty pails carved from stone.


    Yelena caught Aliyah''s eye, giving her the kind of look one woman gives another when men are acting stupid. Aliyah gave the barest nod in return.


    "Ah," Tyson took a step back, squinting at his handiwork. "I think that''s it."


    "You think?" asked Ayden. "You realize we''re breaking into WellWardyn''s reservoir, yes? If this goes poorly, we''ll swiftly find ourselves on quicksand."


    "Don''t put all of the pressure on me," Tyson responded testily. "This operation started because Yelena swore she found the keyrune that WellWardyn uses for securing their reservoir. If it doesn''t work then it doesn''t work."


    "It''s definitely their keyrune," Yelena piped up, annoyed. "We established that before we even got here. Don''t put this all on me now ¡ª if this fails it¡¯s because you''re a failed alchemist who never achieved the rank of Master."


    Tyson sighed, then looked towards Ayden. "Well? Are we doing this? It''s not too late to make it just the lads; Aliyah and Yelena can return first."


    "I can speak for myself, thank you very much," Aliyah warned Tyson with her tone. "And did you really think I would walk away from this just because Ayden said so?"


    "Little sisters should listen to their big brothers," Tyson teased.


    Aliyah gave Tyson a hard gaze. "Ayden was only born a few moments before I was. I feel sorry for Yelena if you hold your two Sorrows over her head like that all the time."


    Yelena looked up to the darkness, miming a prayer with her palms held together. "Finally! Someone else understands. God Epidr bear witness!"


    "Hush, everyone, the sound carries throughout these sewers." Ayden''s voice became commanding. Everyone immediately stopped talking to huddle around him without a word. Aliyah bit her lip; she wanted that. Somehow, she wanted Ayden''s ability to make others listen to him, her included. "Now, if we want to return to the Lower Tiers with these buckets full of something besides piss and shit, we better get to it." He nodded to Tyson. "If you''re confident you have the keyrune worked out, let''s start. If you aren''t sure, we can still go home."


    Tyson''s lips went flat, but he turned back to his handiwork. Aliyah had no understanding of what she was seeing; the combination of glowing golden runes just seemed like an elaborate circle of pictograms in the Old Tongue. Tyson had carved three lines of runes in a circular pattern, each with its own intent and meaning once activated. In the center was the keyrune that Yelena had discovered from a discarded half-burnt note when she was cleaning at WellWardyn. It was critically responsible for making sure Tyson''s runes would be accepted by the protections within the reservoir without alarming WellWardyn and bringing down a regiment of SandSpears on them.


    "Fine then," Tyson whispered, placing a hand on the keyrune itself. It glowed brightly between his dark fingers, then he twisted his hand to the right. The circle of runes turned when he did so, the outer and inner lines also turning in the opposite direction. Then he took a step back.


    The surface of the wall in front of them began caving inwards, the runes pushing through the stone as though it were a pliable membrane. The keyrune sank into the wall, then a tiny hole formed as it found an open space on the other side. The hole grew as the rune did its work, and soon a tunnel formed, just large enough to stoop through. When the tunnel became the size of the outermost ring, the golden runes faded but did not fully disappear.


    "It worked," Tyson exclaimed, almost shocked.


    Yelena punched her brother on the arm. "You weren''t sure?"


    "Would you have gambled that any alchemist could break through a reservoir''s perimeter with just the keyrune?" Tyson gave Yelena a look of exasperation. "I was just prepared for the worst. I didn''t expect it to go so well."


    "Mhm, so long as you weren''t thinking it was going to be my fault," Yelena replied. "I put in extra work to verify it was the right one!"


    The buckets on Troy''s spear shifted, clattering dully against each other. "Are we going in or not?"


    "Let''s go," Ayden spoke up tersely, patting Tyson on the shoulder as he moved forward. "Good work, Tyson."


    Troy followed, buckets wobbling. Aliyah also gave Tyson an encouraging shoulder bump as she passed by, but he barely seemed to notice, still inspecting the runes surrounding his tunnel. Yelena followed behind her, flattening her puffy black hair so it did not scrape the tunnel''s ceiling.


    Cool air washed over Aliyah''s face as she entered, but more importantly, it smelled clean. Her nostrils flared gratefully. She hadn''t even known her nose was blocked from the stench of the sewers.


    Troy held up the torch, illuminating the hallway. Smooth gray stone made up the curved walls. Incredibly, there were no seams. Perhaps some skilled aura usage had been employed to carve out a perfect scoop of solid rock. Or perhaps the craftsmen were very good at hiding their work.


    "Getting in was supposed to be the hard part, but now we need to find either the reservoir or the banknotes," Ayden said. "Yelena?"


    "Down the left," she answered confidently. "I memorized the entire map. We go left, then on the first intersection take a right. There should be a double door."


    "Let''s go." Aliyah took a step down the left, excitement in her feet. They really were in WellWardyn''s reservoir. How would they store the water? She imagined a large lake. Or perhaps it was split into multiple holding chambers, so as to prevent any contamination from spoiling it all.


    "Hold," Tyson said, clambering through the tunnel behind them. He held out his hand and twisted the other way; the wall shifted, the golden runes glowing in the dark as the tunnel resealed itself, as though it had never been. He reached forward, then smudged his thumb where the center of the runes had been, before turning back to them.


    "I''ve closed the tunnel for now so the smell doesn''t follow us, but you can all use this gesture to open it," he said, showing them his hand. His index and middle fingers were closed together, and so were his little and ring fingers. "All of you, remember this hand position to interact with the tunnel. And just make sure you twist right to open."


    "Good idea," Aliyah approved, trying out the hand gesture. It felt unnatural, but perhaps that was Tyson''s intent.


    "No, Ayden you idiot, you''re keeping the wrong fingers together," Troy said while looking over Ayden''s shoulder. "The gap should be between your ring and middle finger."


    Ayden showed Troy his middle finger. "You do it then."


    Troy handed him the torch, then brought up a hand, copying Tyson''s hand gesture perfectly and pushing it in front of Ayden''s face.


    "Easy." He stuck his tongue out, then clenched four fingers closed so only the middle finger stayed up.


    Ayden laughed, then looked towards their group. "Let''s go."


    They followed Yelena''s directions down the hall and soon found themselves standing in front of the double doors. Yelena reached for the handles eagerly, but Ayden barred her way with an outstretched hand.


    "Tyson? Do a quick check."


    The alchemist pulled out a thin rod, waving it over the doors. Golden runes formed on its length, which Tyson inspected. A moment later, he nodded his head at Yelena. "There''s only an alarm rune if the door is forcibly broken down."


    "I guess they didn''t expect anyone to get this far," Yelena said as she tried the handle. "Perhaps they were confident in the ¡ª oh, it''s locked."


    "Well that changes everything," Troy huffed. "We can''t break it down or it''ll alarm all of WellWardyn''s people."


    Aliyah spoke up. "Why do we have to open the door? We can open another tunnel, right?"


    The others gave her looks of surprise.


    Ayden responded first, directing his attention to their alchemist. "Tyson? Doable?"


    "It''s doable since the keyrune is real," Tyson replied. "But it''ll take some time."


    Ayden gave it some thought, then asked, "Will it save time if you draw a smaller tunnel? Just large enough to get through, even if we have to crawl."


    "Yes."


    Her brother nodded. "We''ll do that then. Be quick."


    "You do know this is delicate and precise work, right?" Tyson grumbled, pulling out his rune carving pen. "Hold the light up."


    They stayed silent while Tyson worked to draw the same golden runes he had carved onto the tunnel prior. After some time, the alchemist leaned back to stretch his neck as he observed his handiwork. "This will do. Does anyone want to practice the hand sign for opening? Ayden, perhaps?"


    "Ayden should," Troy agreed, winking at Ayden.


    Aliyah smiled at her friends, then joined in, "Yes, make sure you get the right sign, Ayden."


    Ayden rolled his eyes, then leaned down to place his hand on the keyrune. A twist to the right, and the runes rotated, pushing into the wall and peeling it back much like the other one.


    Soon, a smaller tunnel had formed. Troy lowered the torch and they all glanced inside. An empty blackness peered back from the other side.


    "That''s the reservoir, right?" Troy whispered.


    "It should be," Yelena answered. "It has to be."


    "I''ll go first," Aliyah volunteered. "Light a new torch for me."


    "Perhaps I¡ª" Ayden began, but Aliyah cut him off.


    "Nope! First."


    Ayden shrugged, stepping aside. Troy handed her a new torch, freshly lit. Aliyah pushed her spear into the tunnel, crawling after it.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    She emerged in a spacious cavern, pushing the torch out and pulling herself through as swiftly as possible to avoid being trapped, in case there was something angry on this side of the wall.


    But there was nothing. Picking up her spear, Aliyah bent down, the torch revealing her landing to be a raised walkway with stone guardrails. She lifted the torch up high to peer through the darkness, but saw nothing. The far side of the cavern ¡ª if there was one ¡ª was out of the torchlight¡¯s reach. To her left and right was just more of the guardrail, stretching out into the darkness.


    "You safe in there, Aliyah?" Yelena called after her. Her voice echoed throughout the darkness, reverberating through the gloom. The hairs on Aliyah¡¯s arms rose in trepidation.


    "Yes," she replied, showing her face on her side of the tunnel. "Come through. It''s safe."


    The others crawled through the tunnel. Ayden came first, pushing his spear ahead of him. He turned to receive the bucket-laden spear from Troy, then helped pull Troy through. Yelena followed after, crawling awkwardly with one hand pushing down her hair. Tyson brought up the rear.


    The five of them looked around in silent awe. Troy held up his torch alongside Aliyah¡¯s, but the additional light source did nothing to pierce the gloom.


    "It''s hard to believe this doesn''t cave in," Tyson observed. "Is it even possible to strengthen the ceiling with ¡ª oh, I see it. Pillars." He pointed into the dark. "There they are."


    Aliyah squinted, barely seeing the cylindrical shapes. "I''m surprised you could see that so easily. Training the Sight?"


    "We''re not here for pillars," Troy reminded them. "Where''s the water? Or banknotes?"


    "Banknotes might be better, we can''t possibly be taking enough trips with these buckets," Yelena pointed out.


    "Glad you noticed I''ve been carrying all these," Troy muttered.


    "Yelena, this is the reservoir?" Ayden asked, peering over the guardrail. "I''m not sure I see water."


    "It has to be. There''s no other reason WellWardyn would maintain such a large area for anything else. The water is probably at the bottom."


    "Then we must go down. Left or right?"


    Yelena pondered for a moment. "We''re right next to the doors, they shouldn''t have placed it far from the stairs or ladder. Search around."


    "You heard the lady," Aliyah said to the others. "But don''t shout when you see it; sound echoes. Draw a circle with your torch."


    They split up into two groups, and soon Aliyah saw the other group''s torch drawing a circle in the air. She tapped Tyson¡¯s and Yelena''s shoulders, pointing, and the three of them doubled back to meet up with Ayden and Troy.


    The stairs were wide enough for three men to walk abreast, with what looked like a covered gutter running down the length. Yelena said that it was probably for easily draining water towards the reservoir.


    Ayden walked down first, leading the way with the torch held high and his spear at the ready. Aliyah and Yelena followed together, with Yelena taking Aliyah''s left side to free up her spear on the right. Troy and Tyson brought up the rear, ensuring that there was a spear wielder in each row.


    The journey downwards took longer than Aliyah expected. Soon, she could tell it wasn''t just her; she felt the group''s curiosity bleed into frustration, and they wordlessly picked up the pace. Ayden pointed to a broken part of the stairs with his torch, ensuring the others saw it as they walked past it.


    "You''d think WellWardyn would bother maintaining their main reservoir," Troy muttered under his breath.


    Yelena shrugged. "It''s just one broken stair."


    "I don''t like it," Ayden muttered. "It feels as though this gives credence to the rumors about the state of WellWardyn''s finances. That they aren''t doing their duty of maintaining a healthy reserve requirement"


    "Please don''t say that," Yelena pleaded. "I need this job."


    "If you get let go, you can come work for my ma." Ayden winked. "She says you''re already a good enough cook."


    Yelena made a face at Ayden, then punched Tyson on the shoulder when her brother snickered. "And risk poisoning all her customers? I don''t think Yelena can pay for that!"


    "I''ll remind you that sound travels," Aliyah hissed. She looked back up, but couldn''t see through the darkness; they must have turned a corner seven times by now. Then Tyson''s hand barred her from moving forward ¡ª Aliyah started, breaking free of her reverie to notice Ayden had also stopped.


    "We''ve arrived," her brother announced, pointing downwards. Aliyah''s reflection stared back at her from the glassy pool of water, and so did the reflections of the others as they looked.


    "That''s it?" asked Troy, leaning down with a frown. He held out his torch over the water. "Aren''t we at the bottom?"


    "That''s impossible," muttered Aliyah as she also knelt down to confirm. "This is WellWardyn''s main reservoir. They manage billions!"


    But it was true. The light illuminated the dull gray bottom of the reservoir just under the water, not the pitch black emptiness Aliyah would have expected of a deep well.


    "Either that water is very clear and we''re seeing straight to the bottom, or Troy''s right," Tyson muttered. "What''s happening here? How can WellWardyn''s reserves be so scant? There can''t be more than a hundred thousand bucketsworth of water here. Is this not the main reservoir?"


    Ayden also knelt, touching the butt of his spear into the water. It hit the bottom immediately with a dull konk. He paused, then looked up at them incredulously.


    Troy shrugged, handing his torch to Aliyah. He then pulled down one of his buckets and knelt down to drag it through the water. The liquid sloshed into the metal vessel as Troy pulled upwards, then lifted the dripping vessel and sniffed it.


    "Water," he confirmed, turning to them. "This is what we''re here for, right? Clean and potable water, so everyone take a bucket. There''s only so much we can bring back, but we can''t be going back to the Lower Tiers empty-handed."


    "Hush!" Ayden waved a hand wildly, then gestured to Aliyah''s torch as he extinguished his own. Aliyah followed suit, and the last thing she saw was Ayden pointing silently upwards.


    A door opened above, the sound reverberating throughout the dark. Footsteps, more than one. Then some muttered voices floated down and they saw a light source flicker far above on the other side.


    Aliyah hunkered down, as though minimizing her body could help her in the dark. She heard the light breathing of her companions around her, and knew each of them was wondering the same thing: had they been found out?


    Her fingers gripped tightly around her spear, and she realized her throat was dry.


    "I wouldn''t dare accuse you of being mistaken," said a male voice respectfully. "But as this is our reservoir, the security regarding entry is very tight."


    "I certainly hope WellWardyn takes their namesake seriously, but the aura barrier seemed to have rippled earlier," said a woman''s voice. Relaxed and unhurried. "Or do you ever have rats?"


    "Never. The entire area is carved into bedrock. No rat could ever tunnel through here, nor would they want to. We purposefully do not keep or allow food down here to deter pests and any possibility of contamination reaching our water."


    "That doesn''t necessarily mean inquisitive rats won''t find their way in."


    Aliyah felt her blood chill. They had all heard the woman''s voice at some point in their lives, but three of them knew it especially well. It had led them, guided them, admonished them, encouraged them. It had honed them into Oasis¡¯s SandSpears.


    The Spear of Oasis.


    A hand tapped her on the shoulder and she almost flinched. Her eyes had barely adjusted to the gloom and scant light from the torch above to see Ayden. He held a finger to his lips, then pointed upwards. Aliyah nodded.


    The new light began descending opposite them. Aliyah realized there were two sets of stairs that led downwards into the reservoir. She tiptoed back up the closer set of stairs with her group, keeping her eyes trained on the other light as they went. Ayden led them carefully, pacing their group to always be opposite the other side of the two who had entered. They were still in conversation and hadn¡¯t given any indication they¡¯d noticed them. The man was still talking.


    "As we all rely upon the Lord''s Domain, we''ve resorted to physical and alchemical measures for controlling access to the reservoir. Even the Stewards themselves would need adequate justification and several weeks'' notice to enter unless they had a writ signed by another Steward. I''m allowing you specifically because of our friendship and your station, SpearMarshal."


    Aliyah kept quiet, only focused on the movements of Troy ahead of her. They rounded a corner again, the fifth one. By her count, that meant only two more corners, right?


    Troy stumbled in the dark, slipping sideways on the broken stair they had passed on the way down. Tyson and Aliyah''s hands shot out, grabbing him by the shoulders as he almost tumbled into the depths. Aliyah''s eyes, now fully accustomed to the dark, watched as a bucket handle slid off the end of Troy''s spear to plummet into nothingness. Yelena stifled a gasp.


    A moment later, a large splash and a loud metallic konk echoed throughout the reservoir.


    The light opposite them stopped moving.


    "And that?" asked the female voice.


    "Impossible," said the man, whose voice rapidly became higher pitched. "No one should be in here! Guards!"


    Ayden''s voice rang through the dark. "RUN!"


    Tyson and Aliyah pulled Troy back, who let his buckets run down the length of his spear to shed the unnecessary weight. The five of them broke into a run, their pounding feet echoing throughout the reservoir alongside the crashing buckets. Aliyah glanced at the other side ¡ª it was very far and a level below, but she could make out the sight of a nervous man holding up a lantern while a woman peered up towards them.


    "It appears you do have rats."


    Something whistled through the air. A streak of gold collided with someone in front of her ¡ª Aliyah saw a body jerk to the left and crumple to the ground.


    "TYSON!" Yelena screamed, dropping to help her brother.


    "No! Don''t stop!" shouted Ayden, "Keep running!"


    A high-pitched hum. More spears flew through the air, made of shining golden aura. Aliyah planted her feet firmly as she whirled her spear in a circle around Yelena to protect her friend. Two, four, maybe five spears clattered against her own, one narrowly missing Yelena''s head. Meanwhile, Yelena struggled with her brother''s body, trying to break the spear shaft so they could move him.


    But Aliyah saw Tyson''s urgent expression. His eyes flickered at her, then to Yelena, then back to Aliyah with a pleading look that conveyed what he would have said if his neck hadn¡¯t been pierced through. Aliyah nodded, then checked to make sure there were no more spears flying towards them before bending down to drag Yelena away. "Yelena, we need to go!"


    "No! Tyson! Tyson!" The woman struggled frantically against Aliyah''s grip. "Let me go! Tyson needs our help!"


    Aliyah wanted to slap her friend. "Ayden!" she roared, hoping her brother was listening.


    A strong hand reached past Aliyah to pull Yelena off the ground. Ayden tossed Yelena over his shoulder, taking one sorrowful look at Tyson before jerking his head upwards at Aliyah. "Move. Now!"


    They sprinted up the stairs as fast as they could, Yelena''s sobbing cries echoing alongside their pounding footsteps.


    "Aliyah, below!" Ayden warned as he shifted Yelena onto his left shoulder, couching his spear in his elbow with one hand.


    Aliyah looked down to see the pinpoints of golden aura form before arcing up towards them. She stopped on the stairs, once again flourishing her spear in a circle to defend herself as she knocked away the onslaught.


    Ayden was doing the same nearby, but with one hand. Aliyah had to admit Ayden was better than her at the spear in certain aspects. She couldn''t do that yet.


    "Stop struggling!" Ayden snarled at Yelena as he slowed down his own defense.


    Yelena pounded a weak fist into Ayden''s shoulder. Aliyah''s patience snapped and she slapped Yelena on the cheek. "Get it together! Live now, mourn later!"


    The barrage over, the two of them began running up again.


    They reached the top to see Troy battling two guardsmen. His opponents had probably come in through the double doors once they¡¯d heard the shouts of the man accompanying the Spear. The doors were closed to prevent escape. A nearby fallen lantern must have been theirs, dropped in haste when they had encountered Troy.


    In a breath, Aliyah reinforced, aura surging through her limbs. Ayden stepped to the side and she dashed past him, her speartip flashing silver. She chose a moment when Troy sidestepped a spear jab to duck in and aim for a guardsman''s eye. The man flinched and she only managed to cut his cheek, drawing a thin line of blood down his dark face. The two men retreated warily, holding up their shields and short spears meant for indoor combat.


    Troy stepped forward, catching their attention with a flourish of his own spear. Aliyah took the chance to leap onto the guardrail and vault over their heads, her spear jabbing downwards to bounce off a shield. A man grunted. Troy had used her diversion to stab past their defenses, impaling a thigh.


    Landing on her feet, Aliyah twirled to sidestep a jab, kicking the spear away and turning her own weapon around to meet the man in one fluid motion. Spear met shield once again, with the two guards seemingly more interested in defending than attacking.


    "They''re trying to delay us!" Ayden''s shout echoed towards her. "We need to ¡ª look out!"


    Aliyah could not miss the streaks of gold entering her peripheral vision if she wanted to, and even the guard she was fighting seemed distracted. As she turned, she gasped. The cavernous dark had become brightly lit by an innumerable amount of spears glowing in the air, raining towards them like a blazing storm.


    It was at that moment that both she and the guardsman understood the same thing: the Spear of Oasis did not care about casualties.


    She dove behind the guardsman as he held up his shield against the new bombardment. The light of each auric spear threw the battle into sharp relief a moment before they hit the shield. The cacophony staggered her senses as several spears crashed into the wall behind her, breaking off their points and leaving the reinforced wall undamaged.


    Aliyah was on her feet before the silence fell, readying her spear to attack the guardsman as she stepped back to regain reach. Then she paused. The guardsman keeled over, falling to the ground with blood pouring from his mouth. Several golden spears had pierced the shield and him behind it.


    "Ali!" someone hissed.


    She looked up, seeing Ayden dragging Yelena with him as he bent down for the other guardsman''s shield. "Are you hurt?" he asked, holding tightly against Yelena''s faint struggling.


    "No! You?" she answered, glad that her brother seemed to be unharmed. She looked for Troy, then gasped. "By the Sands, Troy!"


    Troy''s body had collapsed against the wall, two spears protruding from his chest.


    "We''re going!" Ayden pointed behind her. She turned, seeing the tunnel Tyson had created earlier. He hadn''t closed this one. She ran to it, shoving her spear through and crawling in headfirst, no longer caring about the hard stone on her elbows and knees. After she slid out the other side, Aliyah picked up her spear and turned to help Ayden as he tried to unload Yelena towards her.


    Then a golden spear pierced Yelena from the side, knocking her friend from view.


    "Yelena!" Aliyah screamed, followed by a panicked, "AYDEN! BEHIND YOU!"


    Ayden swiveled around, knocking the spear away at the last moment with his own.


    "So, a rat can use a spear. One of my own?"


    Aliyah found herself crawling back through the tunnel, reaching vainly for her brother. They came into this world together.


    They would die together.


    Several more spears flew through the air; Ayden knocked away multiple before his spear cracked against the last one. The top half flew off into the air and out of Aliyah''s sight. Ayden immediately brought up his borrowed shield, parrying two more launched weapons at an angle so he didn''t risk being pierced.


    "Ayden, here!" Aliyah reached a hand towards him, still trying to crawl through the tunnel. Why had Tyson made it so small?


    Her brother turned around, a frantic look in his eyes upon seeing her coming back. Then his expression became calm as he shook his head. "Not a straight tunnel in front of the Spear. You remember the way out right?" he asked with a weak smile. "Get home. Lyka''s coming back soon, remember? I''ll block the Spear off for you."


    He pushed the shield against the entrance, shoving her backwards and locking her out.


    "Ayden!" Aliyah screamed, pounding her fist at the shield in vain, trying to push it off so she could get through to help her brother face a Titled One. Frustration, anger, fear, panic, dread, anxiety, anguish desperation despair hysteria frenzy ¡ª


    "AYDEN!"


    Something thudded on the other side. A weight crashed against the shield, the impact reverberating through the dark tunnel she was in. Aliyah caught her breath then flinched as several more thuds carried through the dark, the unmistakable wet sound of torn flesh. Then a golden glow pierced the shield, the speartip stopping just before it injured Aliyah''s eye.


    Blood dripped down from its golden tip, and a warm drop splattered over her clenched fist.

 Ch 72: Silhouettes

    If the Scholars are correct in their averages, the Gods gave most of us thirty thousand days.


    I have managed to waste over a hundred thousand and counting.


    ¡ª Excerpt from Flangel the Wise''s journal, middle section.


    <hr>


    ZhiXia City, Outskirts


    Primrose stretched her arms, walking over to the wagon assigned to them.


    A quick peek underneath confirmed Kalle hadn''t tried sneaking any alchemic instruments with them. In many ways, he was still mourning the loss of his workstation in JiangXi, but there was simply no time to go retrieve what he had left. Molam had promised Kalle that he would have access to a workstation in Oasis, but the alchemist had been loathe to leave what instruments he had managed to bring in ZhiXia City.


    She straightened herself, checking the items that were actually present. Molam had kept to the bare essentials: basic clothing, small personal effects, but more importantly, multiple sheafs of notes detailing his current understanding of Mursa Allyce. Kalle was the same, though he seemed to have borrowed several books about the Great Sage''s works from Sanctuary. Martyker''s large greatsword, wrapped in oiled cloth, lay on its side so as to not accidentally hurt anyone.


    Primrose dipped her fingertips into a thimble-sized pot of leymint and sandalwood oil mixture before rearranging their items to make space for her own, ensuring she touched everything at least once, then pushed her own things into the wagon. She brought simple items any woman would need, as well as a pack of choice blades and four sets of clothing that could be easily mixed and matched for any occasion, as befit a Flower of HuaLang Chamber. Looking around, Primrose carefully placed a small pouch made of hardened leather where it wouldn¡¯t be crushed by other items. The pouch carried fresh satem flowers, and the pouch itself was inscribed with alchemic runes of preservation.


    Primrose nodded to herself, satisfied with the result of her inspection. Everything seemed to be in order.


    "Checking again, Primrose?"


    Primrose straightened up at the words, turning to see Kalle approaching with a bundle tucked under one arm and a steaming cup in each hand. Most people would have hidden their hands behind their backs, but HuaLang Chamber trained its Flowers to never look guilty.


    "I wanted to make sure Mursa Shang didn''t arrange for any tricks," she said, rubbing her fingertips against her palms.


    "Hmm," Kalle replied, handing her a cup of hot tea. "The Mursa needs us alive. Molam, at least." He sipped from his cup. "Regardless, I''m glad you only lie to spare my feelings."


    "I trust you, Kalle," said Primrose, keeping a straight face against a surge of mixed feelings. When had Kalle become so perceptive? She took a sip of her own tea, then almost blanched at the taste. Pu''er, judging by the taste, but poorly brewed ¡ª or someone had used unwanted leaves. "I just like to verify things."


    "A good practice," the alchemist praised, and did not pursue the subject, much to Primrose''s gratitude. "Have you seen Molam? We''re supposed to be leaving once the Sun crests over the horizon."


    "No, I was about to ask you." Primrose frowned, peering around the caravan at the mursashu. The others were also doing last moment checks, with the mursashi running around barking orders to their mursasho, sending various groups scurrying here and there as they prepared the horses and inspected the wheels.


    Another group of mursasho walked up to them, this one led by a mursashi, who frowned as he approached. Stocky with broad shoulders and shoulder-length brown hair that he had tied into a braid, Primrose remembered this one to be Cholani''s younger brother Choji.


    "Primrose, Kalle," Choji greeted as he approached. While the younger brother was of similar height, he was definitely more muscular and visibly capable of physical labor when compared to his older sibling. "I assume Molam is still busy?"


    "He hasn''t returned, if that''s what you''re asking," Primrose replied with a cheerful wave. She never felt the need to be calculated in her words to the earnest Choji, unlike her dealings with Cholani. Perhaps that was why he was mursashi overseeing a mursasho doing honest handiwork and Cholani wasn¡¯t.


    He nodded back. "Very good. I assume both of you will allow my mursasho to do final checks on your wagon?"


    "By all means, we could certainly use your expertise," said Primrose, smiling at him and the mursasho behind him. Two of the younger men blushed at her look, diverting their gazes to their suddenly shuffling feet. "We''re relying on you."


    Choji nodded, turning around to bark his orders. "Stop staring like you''ve never seen a woman before. This is the last one, but that doesn''t mean you relax and do shoddy work. Get to it!"


    The men fanned out, two seeing to the horses that would pull their wagon and two ensuring the wheels were properly aligned. Choji himself peered into the wagon, muttering to himself and nodding as he went. After several moments, the horses were securely attached and the men stepped back, declaring their inspection complete.


    Choji side-eyed the line of mursasho, unimpressed. "Are you certain? Did you check everything?"


    "Yes, Choji!" came the answer.


    "If their wagon breaks down you''ll have me to answer to, and the Mursa will get what''s left! Do you understand? If you want to check again, now is the time!"


    One man fidgeted, but all four stood with their backs straight. "It''s been checked!"


    After making them wait a moment longer, Choji nodded. "Good. Go tell Gyutan I said you four get to share a bottle of chambanga ale tonight. Dismissed!"


    The four walked away with cheerful looks of relief. Choji turned to Primrose. "Your wagon is ready. The Mursa will sound the signal soon, though I imagine he will make certain allowances for the Oracle''s vessel if he is late."


    "I''m here."


    Primrose spun around, seeing Molam. Priestess Komura chased after him with a white cloak and Priestess Shantayla trailed behind them silently, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.


    "Good. I''ll return to my wagon too, then," said Choji, sauntering off.


    "You made it just in time," Kalle called, clambering into the wagon. He had elected to drive. "We are supposed to be leaving soon."


    "Anything new?" Primrose asked, bemused at Molam''s exasperated look from Priestess Komura''s fussing.


    "Not now," Molam answered curtly, then winced as the elderly Priestess pinched his ear so he would stand still. "I''m not sure I can keep a white cloak clean while traveling, Priestess Komura."


    "You''ll appreciate it better than the black one once you enter the Endless Sands," the Priestess replied as she fastened the front of the cloak. "And you should wear it when you meet the Lord of Sands. Remind him who you represent."


    "Everyone knows he wants to see the Oracle, not me," Molam muttered under his breath, but allowed the Priestess to finish tidying him up.


    "There, isn''t that better?" Priestess Komura said with satisfaction, taking a step back. "And remember to eat balanced meals; you''ve been gorging on too many meat buns. Don''t think I haven''t noticed your cheeks." She patted Molam lightly on the face, then frowned. "It would be best if you gave up meat during your travel, lest the Lord of Sands think the Oracle chose a gluttonous representative."


    Primrose saw Molam''s reaction and almost giggled ¡ª his face bore an expression similar to one that Sanctuary''s orphans wore when the Priestesses fussed over them. As for the comment on the cheeks, Primrose had no idea if it was true ¡ª Molam''s face wasn''t as gaunt as it had been when they first met, but it would be difficult for anyone to accuse him of being overly well-fed.


    Despite Molam''s clear indignation, his words were more measured. "What next, no fruit either?"


    "Only stubborn children use that tone. Be better," the Priestess snapped back, then she turned to Primrose. "Molam has a bad habit of not watching what he''s eating when stressed. Keep an eye on him."


    "Yes, Priestess Komura. I''ll do my best to keep watch over his eating habits." Primrose winked at Molam, who, amazingly, rolled his eyes.


    A loud whistle sounded somewhere, then some shouting echoed down the length of the caravan.


    "That''s the signal," observed Kalle. He reached down, picking up Molam''s pack. "It''s time."


    Primrose hopped onto the wagon, reaching down for Molam.


    "Thank you for everything, Priestess Komura." Molam gave the Priestess a quick hug, then took Primrose''s hand. Before pulling himself up, he paused. Primrose looked behind him, surprised to see Priestess Shantayla''s hand grabbing onto Molam''s white cloak.


    "Priestess Shantayla?" Molam asked her, seemingly confused.


    The Priestess pressed something into Molam''s hand. "From Nettie," Primrose heard her whisper, then stepped back and looked down, her brown bangs hiding her face.


    Priestess Komura smacked the younger Priestess lightly on the back. "Stand straight, Priestess Shantayla. We''ve been over this before."


    Molam seemed to inspect what had been given to him, but Primrose could not see it. "Thank you, Priestess Shantayla," he said, then pulled himself up to the wagon just as the one in front pulled away.


    Kalle snapped the reins and the horses responded, the wagon lurching forward.


    Primrose waved to the two Priestesses, the older one holding up the younger one''s hand and waving back at them. Molam gave a half-hearted wave back, stumbling further into the wagon in search of a place to sit down in the cramped space. Her keen eyes saw a folded piece of paper in Molam''s hands as he stuffed it into a pocket.


    "Have you seen my notes on Mursa Allyce?" Molam asked her.


    "Under the brown leather bag," Kalle called out from the driver''s seat. "You placed them there so the wind wouldn''t take them."


    "I''m asking because they''re not here."


    "I moved them," Primrose said, pointing to a wooden crate. "Under that. I was arranging things to get more space earlier."


    "Thanks," Molam replied, then lifted the crate to slide out his notes. "I appreciate it."


    Primrose sat down at the back of the wagon, looking back at the City as they left it further and further behind. She had elected to be a lookout, but now also appreciated the extra space she had as her legs dangled out the wagon''s rear.


    "We''re supposed to make just two village stops before we reach Heaven''s Wake," she said to Molam as they exited ZhiXia City''s perimeter.


    "Yes. I''ll be revisiting everything I''ve learned about Mursa Allyce so far on the way, and I''m sure speaking to the other mursashu will help," Molam responded "Oh, and before I forget? Nettie asked me to tell you that the Mirror is complicated but simple: it reflects what you need to see."


    What? Primrose stared blankly at Molam as he crossed his legs, frowning at the notes in his lap. Why would ¡ª oh. She remembered. A challenge she had issued to the Prodigy during the Festival of the Hero. It hadn''t even been something she truly cared to learn, but it had been a great method of keeping Nettie''s chattering to a minimum. Primrose was somewhat surprised that the Prodigy still remembered to give her an answer.


    Though not even a full moon had passed, that conversation felt like a lifetime ago.


    <hr>


    The Road


    Primrose leaned back against the wooden bench, her eyes tracing the gentle rise and fall of the Central Valley''s landscape as their wagon trundled along the dusty road. The air was crisp with Spring''s Blessings, carrying the scent of blooming wildflowers and freshly plowed earth.


    Though they had left ZhiXia City proper, they were near the farming villages that tilled for their existence in the Valley. Fields stretched out in every direction, blanketing the earth in a patchwork of vibrant green and earthen-brown hues as far as the eye could see. Birds chirped merrily overhead, their songs weaving through the rustle of the breeze.


    Primrose''s gaze lingered on the distant hills, their rolling slopes adorned with budding trees and the occasional grazing herd of deer.


    "I''ve been thinking about the problem Molam is facing in order to obtain the three Mursas¡¯ approval," Primrose began, her eyes gazing around at the sprawling landscape surroundingthem. "I want to say the test seems¡­ quite the impossible task?"


    "Hmm?" Kalle responded next to her, holding lazily onto the reins in his hands. "You mean the test from the third Mursa?"


    "Yes, that one. What do I, Mursa Allyce, want more than anything in the world?"


    "It''s certainly not an alchemy question," Kalle said.


    "No, it''s not," Primrose agreed, stretching her arms out and holding the position. "It''s a question of the heart and mind; it asks Molam to find out the most intimate detail about someone he has never met. Something even Mursa Khan and Mursa Shang do not know."


    "Oh?" Kalle''s tone became inquisitive. "Intimate? That''s a curious choice of words. What makes you say that?"


    Primrose raised her eyebrows, then chuckled. Of course Kalle wouldn''t understand. She had spent some time discussing this at length with Scarlette and Molam before they had left ZhiXia City, and thought reframing it for Kalle would help her better understand this problem. Perhaps the process would give her some insight that would help them answer Mursa Allyce''s question.


    "How to explain this¡­?" she thought aloud, now pulling one arm to the side while rolling her head around. "What do you think is the most intimate detail about yourself?"


    Kalle''s cheeks reddened. "That''s a very personal question, no?"


    Primrose laughed. "It''s probably not going to be the most embarrassing aspect about you! And while you are correct in thinking it''s personal, it also might not be what you think it is. Some people might say it''s an embarrassing past or a childish desire, but this goes beyond that. We''re talking about the one thing you want more than anything in the world, so much that it takes precedence over all else."


    "But what makes that intimate?" asked Kalle. "I don''t consider my dreams to be intimate."


    "Because we are servants to our wants," Primrose answered simply. "They influence all our actions, to a degree. Greed, desire, lust, and more. The more you understand someone''s wants, the more influence you have over them. You can sell something at an inflated price. You could get someone to disregard their own eyes and ears because it contradicts what they wanted."


    Kalle frowned. "Don''t you think you''re underestimating people a bit much?"


    Primrose smiled. "Do you remember how I convinced you to leave Techoria?"


    "Of course. You told me that you would ¡ª" the alchemist fell silent, then harrumphed. "That''s different."


    "Oh? How so? Did you not tell me you felt hindered by the Council''s bureaucracy? That your creations were more than good enough to help people? That you¡­ wanted a place where you could see your impact?" Primrose reminded him slyly. "Or did I imagine this conversation?"This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    "I said that''s different." Kalle stared ahead at the wagon in front of them. "That''s not a selfish want at all."


    "Who says what we want needs to be selfish?" asked Primrose. "It just needs to be something we want. If a village elder offers up their life in exchange for the safety of the rest of the villagers, they want to save their people. That''s not selfish at all."


    Kalle''s eyes flickered towards her and Primrose fell silent. She hadn''t meant to use that example. She looked up ahead and then shot her hand out, getting Kalle''s attention.


    "Stop, stop!"


    The horses whinnied unhappily as Kalle reflexively yanked on the reins. Their wagon drifted to the right, the left-side horse bumping into the wagon in front of them. But the horses slowed to a halt, and Primrose peeked around to the side, looking at the rest of the caravan.


    The caravan had stopped. Looking towards the front, Primrose saw the midday''s Sunlight shining off the surface of a large lake. Several messengers were riding back from the head of the caravan, pausing briefly at each wagon.


    "We''ll be making a temporary stop," said a rider as she came alongside them on her chestnut brown horse. She was a tan-skinned woman with trimmed black hair, kept short for practical purposes. Primrose recognized her as Meera, who had been assigned to them. "The Mursa has sent riders to scout which side to go around."


    Primrose found that curious; this wasn''t in the pathing plan she had seen. "Wasn''t the path already predetermined?"


    "Yes," Meera replied with a nod. "But the Mursa didn''t expect a lake."


    Ah, Primrose remembered as she glanced back towards the lake. Of course.


    This was where the Whale of ZhiXia had fought the Empire''s three Titled Ones.


    "Please wait," a voice called out behind them. Primrose turned to see Molam poking his head out of the wagon. He looked towards the messenger in particular. "If you''re returning to the front, can you please bring me with you? I need to speak with Mursa Shang."


    The mursashu looked down her nose at Molam, then shrugged. She trotted her horse close to the wagon, indicating Molam should sit behind her. "It would be up to the Mursa if he wants to make time to speak with you."


    "Thank you," Molam said, sliding awkwardly onto Meera''s horse. He caught Primrose''s gaze, adding, "You are correct about what can be done with someone else''s wants. But the reason it''s intimate is because once we realize how it can be used, the very next step should be to protect ourselves: our wants are something we should keep closely confident."


    "None of your beloved notes?" Kalle teased him. Primrose grinned; Molam had been distracted with his notes each time one of them had tried to speak with him.


    "No, reading in the Sunlight hurts my eyes," Molam responded. "They''re tucked into the brown leather bag ¡ª make sure nothing happens to them."


    "Are we going?" asked Meera, wrinkling her nose at Molam. Primrose noted the gesture; not quite hostility, but disapproval. Each of the mursashu must have heard of what Molam had asked for and were judging him for it. She resolved to tell Molam about it after ¡ª assuming he was too distracted to notice it himself.


    "I appreciate your patience." Molam settled himself in behind her. "Ready."


    "Don''t fall off," Meera muttered, then whistled her horse into action.


    As she watched them ride away, Primrose couldn''t help but think that Molam should learn to lower his guard. The stiff way he spoke to unfamiliar people like Meera meant it took longer for others to get to know him, and that couldn''t be helpful at all. Then again, that was probably why Molam tended to ask her to deal with any matters that took a more delicate tact.


    But still. She thought it was worth bringing up.


    <hr>


    The front of the caravan


    "Hello, Molam. I assume you are here for the Mursa?" Jyuni greeted them as they rode up. She had put away her usual elegant robes of woven silk and taken on a different, practical look. Fitted trousers with leather chaps hugged her legs. On her upper body was a black tunic with gold trim. A navy blue cloak completed her look, protecting her from the wind and any sudden showers of rain. The hood was lowered to allow her glossy black hair to flow freely around her shoulders.


    "Yes," Molam replied. He saw the look passed from Jyuni to Meera, and the resulting curt nod from the mursashu rider in response. It was times like this that he found himself missing the phoenix''s silent commentary. If only it wasn''t searching for the wandering spirit of wind, Molam wouldn''t feel so alone among all these humans. Molam almost laughed out loud when he caught himself in this line of thought ¡ª he was missing a voice in his head.


    "Unfortunately, you just missed Mursa Shang," Jyuni informed Molam. "He''s taken a walk with Gyota''s mursasho near the lake. I don''t know if he will take the time to answer your questions about Mursa Allyce right now, but I''ll take you there."


    "Oh, I wouldn''t want to take you away from your task." Molam indicated the marks Jyuni was drawing on the map. A large shape had been outlined right where the lake currently was, though the measurements had yet to be written in.


    "It will be fine. I was waiting for the riders to return with the information, and this will be another good learning experience." Jyuni whistled; a horse whinnied in response and a majestic black stallion with a white splotch on his forehead trotted up to her, still chewing on the grass it had been grazing on. Jyuni patted her horse''s head, then pulled herself up the saddle and guided it forward without touching the reins. "Come. Meera needs to go back to her work"


    Molam slid off the horse. "Thank you for the ride, Meera."


    Meera nodded curtly to Molam, then guided her horse away. Molam looked up at the black stallion; it was taller now that he was standing on the ground, and he wasn''t sure how Jyuni would feel if he reached for the saddle''s horn. Jyuni reached down, offering him a hand and pulled him up.


    "You''re very experienced with horses," Molam observed as they rode towards the Mursa''s group. He could only trust that Jyuni knew where she was going when trees blocked his line of sight.


    "Every mursashu grows up around horses. Our people are nomadic, after all. At least, until our homeland is restored."


    Jyuni slowed down her horse, walking up to the group ahead. Molam looked over her shoulder, spying the Mursa standing with a small group. Several of the mursashu were lugging pails of water up from the lake while others were standing around a large bucket, discussing something unintelligible.


    Mursa Shang looked up as they approached. Like Jyuni, he had traded his elegant robes for a similarly practical outfit better suited for travel. The only differences were his black cloak, still trimmed with golden threads, and a pair of dark brown gloves. The bulges on the fingers told Molam the Mursa hadn''t bothered to take off his rings.


    "Ah, Molam. I was just thinking of sending for you."


    "Mursa Shang," Molam greeted as he slid off Jyuni''s horse, thanking her for the ride as she nudged her horse towards the clearing where the other horses were waiting. "You don''t need to start each of our conversations looking to gain the upper ground. Perhaps I''m only here as a friend."


    "Friend, is it? I always welcome visits from friends." The Mursa peered at him with a raised brow and a twinkle in his eyes. "I assume you heard about our delay and thought to use the time to ask me about Mursa Allyce."


    "That was the original purpose," Molam admitted. "But I see you weren''t content to wait while your riders scouted out the location." He glanced at the mursasho as one tasted the water. "If I''m guessing correctly, you are considering the choice of stocking up on water before we reach Klagynah."


    "Observant as always," the Mursa sighed. "Why couldn''t you have been born a mursashu? Yes; the problem is storing the water for transport. I don''t suppose you''re willing to volunteer your alchemist? It''s what you brought him for."


    "Kalle is a friend, not a resource," Molam reminded the Mursa. The man waited for a brief moment, then raised his eyebrow. Molam grudgingly added, "But I can ask him. I''m sure he''ll appreciate the challenge."


    "I''m certain he will." Upon seeing Jyuni join them, the Mursa beckoned towards Molam, gesturing towards the lake''s shore. "Come, walk with me. I''ve always thought humans were best suited for walking, not riding horses and camels."


    Now that he was closer to the newly-formed lake, Molam could see the evident signs of the battle. The area''s basin-like shape, which had once served to collect enough water for all the trees, was now the primary cause for their drowning. Some of the taller trees had their crowns sticking out of the lake; other splintered logs floated on the surface. Molam looked down into the lake itself; some of the trees had been stripped of their leaves, standing like silent sentinels in the water.


    And then there were the strange rock formations that reminded Molam of black glass. He had seen them through the trees while they rode here, but they could be seen jutting haphazardly through the bottom of the lake as well. Molam wondered which Titled One could have done this; the OutCast came to mind, but she had been in ZhiXia City the whole time. It didn''t seem like the Tempest''s work. The HushFang, or the Islander?


    "Have you considered joining a mursashu caravan?" the Mursa began as they walked. "If you do, I will recommend you to Mursa Allyce as her successor; even she couldn''t be stubborn about not taking on an apprentice if she does a true evaluation of your skills."


    So Mursa Allyce has yet to select an apprentice, thought Molam. That was new information, something the other sources had either neglected to mention or did not know. He replied aloud, "No."


    "Don''t reject the idea so¡­ decisively." The Mursa wagged a finger. "I was hoping you would be amenable to the idea considering you seem keen on being in command. The lofty role of City Lord is probably out of your reach, but there''s a path here for you."


    "You and I both know that one must be born a mursashu in order to become Mursa, so is it really worth your time to lead me with false promises? Moreover, it''s less about being in command and more about having my own vision for how events should progress," Molam deferred. He couldn''t be certain what the Mursa was hoping to achieve here; the thinking made little sense. "I hope you view my vision as worth following when you share what you know about Mursa Allyce with me."


    "Jyuni, pay attention." The Mursa now waved at his apprentice. "Notice how Molam phrases his request with a humble attitude while reminding me of his successes. Moreover, he assumes that I''ll be sharing my knowledge with him; he skips the step where he asks."


    Jyuni dipped her head in response. "You could do with learning from Molam''s willingness to be humble as well, Mursa."


    Molam coughed to avoid laughing at the Mursa''s look of indignation. "You have a good apprentice," he managed to say with a straight face. "My mentor used to say that the best student and teacher relationship is one where they are learning from each other."


    He glimpsed a rare look of approval from Jyuni''s normally passive face.


    "Then I''ll be humble." The Mursa grinned, snapping his fingers. "Jyuni, I haven''t told you my full thoughts on the matter at hand regarding Molam''s test. I want you to respond to Molam''s request in my place; you have my full backing. Mursa has spoken."


    The Mursa hummed to himself as he walked ahead of them. Molam turned to Jyuni with a raised brow, catching Jyuni''s briefly shocked face as she recomposed herself.


    Molam couldn''t resist joining in the teasing. "I feel for you," he told Jyuni in a lighthearted tone before she could speak. "I also understand the frustration with being handed unexpected and difficult tasks."


    "You believe yourself to be difficult? I might need to retract my earlier statement on your humbleness," she replied in a biting manner. "This is only unexpected. At best."


    The Mursa chuckled from several steps ahead of them, turning his head to wink at Molam. "She has her own way with words, yes? You would think she is actually Mursa Allyce''s apprentice."


    "We should start with the first question," Jyuni spoke without raising her voice, as though her Mursa''s interjection was only a mild annoyance. "Why should we help you? If my people do give you any information, it increases your chances of answering Mursa Allyce''s test. This would put you, an outsider, into the position to command the mursashu people ¡ª even if it is only temporary."


    Molam recognized that way of speaking; it was the telltale cadence of someone who had gone over this topic multiple times with someone else and was now expected to reiterate what they had learned.


    "Therefore," Jyuni continued, "allowing our people to speak to you about Mursa Allyce is a clear benefit for you but of no value to us. Not without something in return."


    She looked at him as though expecting him to offer immediately. Molam sighed, glancing towards the Mursa''s back. Part of him wondered if Mursa Shang intended for Jyuni''s representation to force Molam''s hand.


    "Jyuni," he began slowly, "I appreciate you explaining your stance and circumstances, but I don''t think your Mursa should be making you practice with me right now."


    "I currently speak for the caravan," Jyuni answered flatly. "If you want to buy information from us, you can discuss with me."


    Molam sighed. He could respect Jyuni''s willingness to learn, but she had now ignored two amicable warnings. Another glance at the Mursa''s turned back indicated no interest in interfering on his apprentice''s behalf. Perhaps Mursa Shang did not think Molam would take Jyuni seriously, but Molam was in no position to put on a kind visage when sitting down at the proverbial table.


    "You seem to have a misconception, Jyuni." Molam steeled his voice and met her gaze. Very well then; Jyuni would receive the argument he had already prepared for the Mursa. "Shouldn''t your people be looking to curry my favor now that I stand to take control of all three caravans?"


    To Jyuni''s credit, she did not flinch. Molam was impressed. It was likely she hadn''t expected this line of reasoning, evident by the fact that she had no prepared response. This surprised Molam more ¡ª the Mursa hadn''t anticipated an argument like this and prepared his apprentice beforehand? But it was clear Jyuni was thinking rapidly through what he had just said and its implications, and Molam could appreciate her ability to respond while unprepared.


    "You don''t know that you''ll take control at all," she replied eventually. "I don''t see any point of leverage there. If you don''t want to pay, we don''t have anything to say." She offered him a polite smile.


    "If you''re going to pretend you don''t see it then I''ll show you the opportunity you''re walking away from," Molam countered. "You cannot put an actual obstacle in my way. I only need to come up with the answer Mursa Allyce wrote into the agreement to gain control. But for your people there''s something important to consider, isn''t there?" He lowered his voice, seeing he had Jyuni''s full attention. "Once Mur is restored, are the three Mursa going to share power equally; or will one person lead?" He paused to ensure Jyuni understood the implications before he even said it aloud. "And if I do end up finishing my use for the position and need to pass it along to a single Mursa, do you think I''ll look favorably on being snubbed now?"


    He gave her a grim smile before continuing. "Didn''t Mursa Shang and Mursa Khan think to use this method to declare a temporary leader in me ¡ª one who is guaranteed to leave this position ¡ª so that they have an outsized influence on the matter of succession? This brings me back to my point: if you want your Mursa to be the one in charge after Mur''s restoration, shouldn''t you be currying my favor by offering me what I want so that this power transfer can happen?"


    Jyuni finally frowned, and Molam looked past her to call out to the Mursa, "Mursa Shang, you''re quite cruel to make your apprentice play a losing game. Was the intention to teach Jyuni that sometimes there are no winning moves?"


    "Are you disrespecting my Mursa''s decision for me to represent him?" Jyuni asked Molam. She did not raise her voice, but he noticed a small knot in her clenched jaw.


    "Jyuni." Mursa Shang finally turned around, silencing her with a look. "You had the initiative and chose to make a sale. Molam took it from you by framing it as something you should be giving him for our mutual benefit. You couldn''t recover with any leverage when he spoke to me directly and tried to appeal to mannerisms instead of addressing his statements." His features softened. "We''ll revisit this later, but you forgot the fundamental rule that it is easier to sell when both sides see the benefit. Your approach was too forced because you believed we had all the leverage in denying Molam information."


    Jyuni clasped her hands together to make a chastised bow. "Yes, Mursa."


    "Do you have any advice for Jyuni, Molam?" the Mursa asked him pointedly. They had begun looping back towards their earlier location.


    "Should I be training my future opponent?" Molam asked in return. "Jyuni is set to become Mursa one day."


    "One day, but hopefully not soon if I intend to live for some more time." Mursa Shang winked, then added, "if you become the acting Mursa, Jyuni''s improved skill could be beneficial for you when you have her as a resource." Mursa Shang grinned at him slyly. "You could say¡­ there will be a mutual benefit. Surely you see the value in that."


    Molam laughed, then turned to Jyuni. "Desperate buyers make poor customers. Your Mursa learned the hard way in JiangXi City when he tried the same thing, then again when he twisted my arm several days ago regarding passage to Oasis," he said, glancing at the Mursa. Thinking he would do Mursa Shang a favor, Molam added, "Don''t think poorly of him. I think it was harsh for him to put you up to this, but perhaps he wanted you to learn the lesson through experience."


    The Mursa nodded twice at Molam''s words.


    "Was there a way to sell it to you?" Jyuni asked him.


    "You should only pursue a sale if you believe my coin is worth more than my goodwill," Molam replied, winking at her. "And I''m not about to teach the next Mursa how to part me with my money."


    Jyuni smiled at that while Mursa Shang chortled.


    "It was my fault," the Mursa said. "Jyuni, you did well considering the circumstances. As for your request, Molam," he said as they reached the earlier group of mursashu, still gathered around the water bucket, "we''ll tell you as much as we know about Mursa Allyce, but I have no idea what her deepest desire is. You will need to answer that question yourself. As for who she is, all I can start with is¡­ I never understood why her predecessor, Mursa Synbad, chose her to be the next Mursa."

 Ch 73: Questions With No Answers

    How should a person be judged and remembered?


    By their circumstances?


    By their intentions?


    By their character?


    By their actions?


    By their results?


    By their legacy?


    ¡ª Excerpt from Meditations, by the Red Emperor


    <hr>


    The Road


    Molam''s nose noticed the change long before he saw the brown dirt of the road turn to speckled gray ash. He''d expected it, of course. The signs had been building for days, subtle shifts in the air, the land, and even the colors of the plants. But sometimes the body did not keep up with the mind''s expectations. And now, as they crossed into the heart of the desolation, the crispness of the air had turned foul, acrid, with the unmistakable undertone of burnt smoke. It was the kind of smell that clung to the back of the throat, cloying and sharp, thick with the residue of something burnt.


    The wagon jolted as it moved forward, and Primrose, sitting across from him, poked her head inside. Her face was partially obscured by a purple cloth mask, and she handed him a white one for himself.


    "I assume you''ve seen it before?" she asked, her voice slightly muffled by her mask. "I''ve heard of it, but¡­ they should have talked more about that smell. It''s like the bodies are still burning."


    "This is the third time I''ll pass by it," replied Molam as he brought the mask up to his face to fumble with the cloth. "And the simple words most people use will just be things like ''unbearable,'' but it''s hard to describe smell with just words alone." Seeing her eyebrows frown in distaste, he added, "Your nose will adjust soon, so much that you don''t even think about it after some time."


    Primrose''s arm shot forward, clearly annoyed at how long it was taking Molam to put on his mask. He surrendered, allowing her to tie it firmly around his face to cover both the mouth and nose.


    "I doubt it''s improved since you last saw it," she said wryly, finishing it up to briefly admire her handiwork. "But after days of hiding away with your notes, this is what you come out for?"


    Molam shrugged. "I need a good excuse to set down my notes. Do you have any good stretches for the neck?"


    He stepped gingerly past the wooden board and looked outside. Blue skies greeted him, dotted with the occasional cloud. Far off in the distance were the rolling hills, characteristic of the Central Valley, dotted with patches of bright yellow, soft pink, and vivid turquoise.


    Immediately to their right was the River Ash, its waters flowing sluggishly along the rocky banks. The river had earned its name from the gray tint to the water, an unsettling color that hinted at the dark origins of its path. Molam followed the flow of the river upstream with his eyes, tracing it back to where it split into the vast expanse of Lake Sapphire. His gaze hovered there, ignoring the ashy surface of the lake as his focus was drawn towards remnants of the City that sat on an island in the center of the water.


    The blackened ruins of Kamisukawa looked as desolate as ever. Once a bustling metropolis known as the Empire''s Sapphire, Kamisukawa''s towering spires and grand structures now lay in crumbling disarray, their charred remains a stark contrast against the tranquil waters that enveloped them. The island itself seemed frozen, as if it was so haunted by the memories of an era when it had outshone even Crimson City''s grandeur that it could no longer see the world outside it.


    A shiver ran down his spine. The dead stayed with God Yven, but Molam couldn''t help wondering if the chill meant something more than ruins remained. Perhaps the air still carried remnant energies from the eight million residents that had lived there, slaughtered in one night as their City burned around them.


    A part of him vaguely remembered that this was once GloomSire''s home, and the pieces suddenly fell together. Molam could guess why the man was eternally bandaged.


    Despite the passage of time, the devastation wrought by the Prince''s wrath refused to fade. For some reason, nature had yet to reclaim its territory in the decades since the Burning of Kamisukawa; where one expected tendrils of ivy creeping up weathered walls and blooming wildflowers, there was only obliterated husks as far as the eyes could see. The silence was eerie, laden with melancholy. Molam imagined he could hear the echoes of the past whispering through the silent streets, a palpable reminder of the City''s tragic fate when it made a fatal bid to be Free.


    The whispers and the burn of smoke in his lungs reminded Molam of who exactly they intended to kill. The Seventh Crown. Burner of Rivers. Butcher of Kamisukawa. Death''s Shadow, as the Northerners called him around their HeartHomes, or the Calm Cease if you listened to the tales from the Formosan Islanders. But everyone under the Sun knew the man''s main Title.


    The Bloody Prince.


    Looking down, Molam spied Kalle and Primrose also gazing upon the ruin. Kalle''s brows were closely knit, his usual relaxed air replaced by tension. It wasn¡¯t hard for Molam to guess the man was thinking of Techoria; Molam had to admit the alchemist City wasn¡¯t far from his own mind. Did it look similar after the Bright Night? He had no idea, but he hoped to visit its remnants someday. He owed Flangel the Wise that much.


    Primrose wore a somber expression of her own. Her normally sharp gaze had become distant, with her blue eyes seemingly unfocused, though her eyebrows were knit similarly to Kalle¡¯s. Although she faced Kamisukawa, she looked as though her mind was somewhere else.


    Perhaps she was thinking of Teljumaya.


    <hr>


    The Road


    The group had become accustomed to the activities of the mursashu when the Sun dipped into the horizon. Members found their assigned mursasho, breaking wordlessly into their expected roles and functions to get the caravan into a safe position for the evening''s rest.


    While no normal bandits would ever dare pillage a mursashu caravan, the same could not be said for roving packs of wild animals or even unexpected monsters. Location, then, was paramount. A pair of riders rode ahead to look for a large flat area with a source of water nearby, preferring rivers and creeks so the water was not stagnant.


    By the time the caravan arrived, the two riders had already cleared the campsite of debris for the wagons to park in a circular shape. It created a sort of enclosure, giving those within enough space to see outside while providing a protective barrier against any would-be attacks.


    Once parked, a mursasho responsible for handling the animals untethered the horses and led them to the water source, allowing them to drink their fill and graze while freeing the animals from their harnesses. Several mursashu walked alongside the horses, feeding them choice apples and brushing their coats. Two mursashu men were inspecting each wagon, crawling under the carriage to check the wheels and axles. Three women helped nearby, holding up lanterns for light and providing the men with whatever tools they asked for.


    Campfires were struck ¡ª a large one in the center, then several more popped up as the mursashu grouped together with their friends and family. Molam piled together pieces of wood, flicking his flametool into a spark when no one was looking.


    Meera appeared when the fire was crackling, handing him a pot filled by the chef. Molam nodded in thanks, hefting the heavy container onto the open fire before opening the lid to check inside. Vegetables ¡ª green, purple, orange, and brown ¡ª floated among chunks of red meat in water. Ah, right. The riders had supposedly shot a wild boar when they found this rest stop. He put the lid back on ¡ª the stew would cook into a fine broth while they continued to prepare for the evening.


    It wasn''t until Molam was preparing tea after dinner that Cholani sidled into view, sitting down on the side of the campfire opposite Molam. Either they hadn''t changed into practical travel wear like the others, or they had somehow found the time to put on comfortably loose silk robes.


    "So what''s going horribly in your life?" the mursashu asked conversationally as they settled in.


    Molam paused in the middle of pouring tea for the two of them. "Is that the right way to start a conversation?"


    "It''s the best way," Cholani asserted, accepting the cup of tea with both hands. "Cuts right to the chase, don''t you think? We communicate for so many reasons; sharing joy and spreading misery whether it''s through delightful discourse or energetic eloquence, but isn''t the real reason to commiserate about the qualms of life?" Cholani winked at Molam, their amber eyes looking almost topaz in the light.


    Kalle laughed from inside the wagon, where he was eating his stew with Primrose. "That must be Cholani I hear."


    "Kalle!" Cholani greeted, almost shouting so that Kalle could hear. "I heard you rejected the Mursa''s request to come up with a way to carry water efficiently."


    The alchemist''s guffaw echoed out from within. "Did he call that a rejection? He''s only asking for a way to break a fundamental law of alchemy written by the Gods themselves. If I ever come up with a way to make water weigh less, I''ll let you know."


    "Excellent to know you''re working on it." Cholani beamed, then turned their attention back to Molam. "Now, what can I do for you? How bad has your life become?"


    Molam sipped at his tea, deciding not to contest the premise. "Bad enough, I suppose." He almost winced at the verbal admission ¡ª then collected himself. Cholani was mursashu, and he couldn''t forget who they reported to. Their cheery demeanor had allowed them to lead this conversation long enough. "I find myself looking for more information about Mursa Allyce. Having recently spoken to Mursa Shang and Jyuni as well as the other mursashi, I understand you are the last mursashi who has spent considerable time with Mursa Allyce. My hope is you''ve been told to share what you have with me."


    "Ahh, yes. I seem to remember a missive like that being passed to me earlier today." Cholani peered at Molam over their tea. "What have the others shared with you?"


    "Only the obvious bits," Molam muttered, reciting what he had already committed to memory. "Roughly forty or so Sorrows. White of hair and skin, with pink eyes. Looks to have Northerner blood despite her short stature? An anima before she became Mursa. Mursa Shang claims he didn''t know much about her before Mursa Synbad named her as his successor, which shocked him considering Mursa Synbad had another apprentice at the time."


    He paused, trying to think of the other bits and pieces of information he had. Molam didn''t want Cholani to repeat what he already knew. "While Mursa Shang and Mursa Khan mainly prefer to travel the mainland around the Central Valley, Mursa Allyce expanded on Mursa Synbad''s decision to establish trade routes in the Deep Waters. I suppose what''s interesting is her taking an active role with her mursashu to fight coastal piracy while trading." Another pause, then Molam added, "and she has yet to name a successor in almost fifteen years, something that worries everyone else. If she dies no one will inherit her Title."


    "You''ve learned quite a bit." Cholani sipped their tea, then bit into a pastry. Molam had no idea where they had hid the food in their clothing, or when they had taken it out. "We could speak at length about her, but I am aware this is all meant to lead you towards ¡ª potentially, hopefully, or might I even say, blunderingly ¡ª answering her question. I don''t suppose you have specific questions to be efficient with my time?" asked Cholani between mouthfuls of raspberry tart.


    Molam refilled their empty cups, preparing himself mentally. He had given this much thought throughout the day as he spoke with the others; what was the best way to understand someone you''ve never met?


    "What would you say are the similarities between Mursa Allyce and the other two Mursa?"


    This had originally been his third question, but over time Molam had realized it functioned best as the first question. The mind always sought to anchor itself with the familiar, and it would help both him and the answering person to have a mutual understanding of their individual perspectives.


    "Their Titles," Cholani answered cheekily, then continued. "I guess you''re looking for anything unique to them that most others don''t have. Then I will change my answer to be their excellent management of resources. Strong memory. Gastronomes, all of them, but you can''t be ruthless behind a negotiation table if you don''t have a big appetite, I think?"


    "And what are some differences? What makes her different from the other two?"


    Once he had a vague mental image, Molam needed to remove as much that did not belong as possible. This next question would refine his understanding.


    "Hmm¡­" Cholani thought about it, now biting into a chunk of honeyed bread. They chewed rhythmically, then swallowed before answering, "For lack of a better term, priorities?"


    Molam leaned forward. "Can you expand on that?"


    "I think you will need some context." Cholani took a sip from their tea, then produced a stick of cinnamon from somewhere and began chewing it lightly. Molam was starting to wonder if Cholani was actually thin as a reed under their robes, and the appearance of plumpness was due to the amount of snacks they had stored away on their person. "My position over our finances puts me in conversation with my counterparts in the other caravans. We audit each other''s work while sharing updated ideas for bookkeeping." They paused, working their jaw over the chewing stick, then said, "I''ve always been surprised by Mursa Allyce''s focus when it comes to trade. She''s more willing to gamble than most, almost as though she wants to prove it can be sold for a profit."


    It wasn''t so much what Cholani was saying and more their contemplative expression that had Molam intrigued. "What makes you say that?"


    "Well," Cholani shrugged, "what do you think should be prioritized when you trade?"


    "Retaining or obtaining value," Molam replied. Mursa Khan had emphasized this lesson.


    "Precisely." Cholani nodded, shifting the cinnamon stick to the other side of their mouth. "Simple concept, really ¡ª tremendously difficult, of course, to put into practice."This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Molam frowned. "Are you saying she isn''t making a profit? Is Mursa Allyce¡­ losing money?"


    "No, no. What? No, no, no." Cholani raised their eyebrows. "Not that, of course. Not at all. Mursa Allyce''s profits are certainly keeping pace with ours, so long as you look at the numbers as a whole. It''s more about the¡­ shall we say, appearance of extremes that caught my eye. She has several trade entries I would consider too risky to invest in, but which she''s turned vastly profitable."


    They scrunched up their face in thought before grinning as though remembering something frivolous. "Then there are entries that seemed like the wild wishes of a child, where she took on heavy losses. Who thinks about fermenting cheese while traveling to the destination as a test of efficiency? Or bringing chambanga ale to Oasis ¡ª the product spoiled well before she made it through the Endless Sands. If she wasn''t still quite profitable after over a decade of trades, I would have taken her for a drunk gambler."


    "Some may say it''s all gambling, just with different rules," Molam muttered.


    "Now that''s a neat thought." Cholani smiled. "Oh ¡ª my apologies ¡ª did you want a cinnamon stick?"


    They held out a new stick of cinnamon; Molam hadn''t even seen them reach for it. "They''re great for cleansing the palate after dinner. Wonderful for helping me get the sticky film out of my teeth, too!"


    Molam accepted the offering, holding the stick under his nose. The smoke of the campfire gave way to the tingling scent of spice. He briefly contemplated whether the mursashu had any reason to poison him before chewing on the stick, wondering why he would even consider it.


    "So what I understood," Molam began slowly, "is that she has a tendency to make unusual trades."


    "Yes. Some degree of risk and new expansion is normal, of course ¡ª that''s how any new trade route ever comes about ¡ª but then again, Mursa Allyce dabbles in risk far more than expected. I''d hazard a guess at¡­" Cholani paused, scrunching up their face again while doing arithmetic in their head. "Six. Maybe seven times the normal amount. Abnormal indeed, wouldn''t you say?"


    Something abnormal. Abnormal meant possibly unique, which could lead to additional insight into the person that was Mursa Allyce. After a few seconds of ponderous chewing, Molam asked, "Can you give me a few more examples of her riskier trades?"


    "A moment." Cholani leaned back, twisting their torso to the right and then to the left, stretching out their back. Molam realized his posture had also stiffened, and he relaxed his back while shifting his center of gravity.


    "Ahh, that''s better," the mursashu said after an audible series of pops and cracks, then continued. "Oh. Right. An example. Well¡­ hmm," they murmured, then answered, "I suppose I was already telling you about her chambanga ale mistake, trying to bring it to Oasis. It was part of her establishing the chambanga ale trade."


    Molam raised a brow, finally connecting the dots. "The exclusive ale from the Formosan Islands? She started that?"


    "It wasn''t so highly prized when we were young." Cholani waved their cinnamon stick at Molam like a finger. "Some people still don''t think much of it. It''s a matter of preference, I suppose, given its lighter taste and fruity aroma."


    "I believe it''s popular among discerning connoisseurs with a refined palate."


    "Bah, connoisseurs," Cholani made a dismissive gesture, "they''d drink camel spit if it made them feel elevated above the masses. They pay for the privilege of rare goods regardless. The reason I chose this one as the example," they continued, "is to focus on Mursa Allyce''s accomplishment against all odds. Doing trade with the Formosan Islands was already difficult enough given their exiled status, but the mainland didn''t understand chambanga fruit at the time. Worsening the venture was that she first brought it to HaiFeng City of all places ¡ª where they have their own specialty spirit: gaoliang."


    Molam frowned, trying to recall what he had learned under Mursa Khan''s wing. "So from what I understand, she had a novelty good that had no predefined buyer. She brought it to a location that not only didn''t understand the item for sale but had their own competing product, is that right?"


    They tossed the remains of the cinnamon stick into the campfire, leaning on one knee and giving Molam an appraising look. "You almost speak our parlance like a mursashu." Cholani nodded approvingly. "Correct, and I''m quite surprised you understood that much given my unprepared explanation. But there''s more."


    "There''s more?"


    "Chambanga ale doesn''t travel well. I don''t know much of how it''s brewed, but it''s supposed to be consumed once it''s reached the final stage of fermentation. The arousing aroma that makes chambanga ale special dissipates within a day; not nearly long enough to be transported to the mainland."


    "Mursa Allyce found a way, then?" Molam guessed.


    Cholani nodded. "Yes. She contracted Zaem''s alchemists to create a certain type of container just for securing chambanga ale''s taste and aroma. An expensive cost considering at the time, she still had no idea if it would sell."


    Molam leaned back and whistled in surprise. "Quite the investment. I can see why this was considered a risky gamble." Mursa Khan would have called it akin to throwing away money. Mursa Shang would have never taken the risk of an unpredictable venture. Molam mulled this story over in his head as he tried to pair it with what he already knew of the third Mursa. Did it just mean that she was more prone to playing with chance, or did it indicate something else?


    "When you said it seemed her priorities were different," Molam asked, trying to formulate the question as the thought came to him, "did you mean that she doesn''t prioritize risk reduction as much as the other two Mursa?" He also threw his cinnamon stick into the fire. The orange flames licked eagerly at the new kindling, sizzling against the wet saliva.


    "I wouldn''t say it''s that she doesn''t prioritize risk reduction, more that it''s a¡­ lower priority," Cholani mused. "Perhaps it''s better to say that while both Mursa Shang and Mursa Khan prioritize our people''s safety above all, Mursa Allyce takes after her predecessor Mursa Synbad in pursuing something new, something different. In a way, contracting with you is the riskiest gamble I''ve seen my Mursa take in years." They winked, and added, "there''s a reason we don''t sail the Deep Waters unless we absolutely need to. She''s lost at least a shipful of people."


    "And her caravan follows her still?" Molam asked, deep in thought. "I thought it''s possible to replace a Mursa. Aren''t they worried for their lives?"


    "Then you never really understood our people, Molam." Cholani smiled, their eyes twinkling. "Some can''t take to the nomadic life, but the ones who prefer to leave and settle down are rare. The four centuries since we were forced from our home to wander the world have only resulted in one thing here: a sense of bonding among the mursashu, united by a goal to return to Mur. Unity is our strength! Mursa Diyah instilled it into us so our people would never scatter."


    Molam tilted his head. "You''re talking about Diyah''s Will?"


    "Oh no," Cholani laughed, "nothing like that. Only the Mursa need to inherit Diyah''s Will. No, it''s¡­" they paused, then continued. "I don''t know how to describe it. Have you seen the animals that always seem to return to a place? Usually where they were born, or to the same nesting area? No?" They shook their head at Molam''s polite look of confusion. "Ah, I guess you haven''t traveled as much as I have. Can''t expect you to know everything. Hmm¡­ well, the best way to describe it is a sense of wrongness whenever we stay somewhere too long. Ah, like a pillow that isn''t yours! Maybe that makes sense?"


    Molam chuckled at Cholani''s look of triumph, nodding at the comparison. "I can understand that."


    "Well, that feeling of wrongness goes away only when we''re in Mur. Even some of those that have settled down in other Cities will sometimes return to a caravan when they can''t bear the feeling any longer. We always accept them back, of course."


    The campfire crackled, spitting out sparks as Molam considered this. The concept was curious; did Diyah''s Will pass through bloodlines or did people who join the mursashu later on also share the same feeling Cholani was describing? He hadn''t learned any of it when he¡¯d traveled with Mursa Khan previously. Then again, circumstances had changed.


    "But¡­" he began, organizing his thoughts as swiftly as possible. "My original question is why hasn''t Mursa Allyce''s caravan chosen to replace her?"


    "Oh yes, that was the original question. Well, the answer is simple: they believe her actions ¡ª however bizarre to us ¡ª are the best method of freeing Mur from DuskWing''s Curse."


    While this made sense, Molam frowned at the thought. He had always thought being profitable traders was just how the mursashu sustained their people''s way of life, but never truly consideredhow the constant traveling enabled each of the three Mursa to search for ways to cleanse Mur. It made sense in retrospect; Mursa Khan and Mursa Shang had both negotiated hard for a meeting with the Oracle when Molam offered it, but he hadn''t thought about some of the underlying reasons why they were willing to risk so much. And ¡ª if the rumored Diyah''s Will drove each of the Mursa''s actions, to what extent did it influence them?


    Molam set aside that thought for now. "Do you know what Mursa Allyce was specifically looking for then, sailing all throughout the Deep Waters?"


    Cholani shrugged. "The same thing Mursa Synbad was looking for: a new land for our people to settle and call Mur. Well," Cholani grinned at Molam, "that''s changed now, hasn''t it? Putting our Mursa in touch with the Oracle has changed everything, and now all three caravans have been called to help you in Oasis so you will help us in turn."


    "I suppose she''ll go back to sailing if I can''t uphold my side of the bargain." Molam leaned back in his seat, staring into the bright embers of the dying campfire. This had definitely been a worthwhile conversation. He stood up abruptly, brushing his cloak with his thoughts on what he would add to his notes. "Thank you, Cholani. That was quite helpful."


    "I''m glad to hear that. And? Did ''what''s going horribly in your life?'' turn into a great conversation in the end?" they asked, cheeky once more.


    "I still think you could have started with ''how can I help?''" Molam side-eyed them as they also stood up to head back to their wagon. "I don''t claim to be good at socializing, but implying that someone''s life isn''t going well seems like a poor tactic to me."


    The mursashu laughed as they stretched, shifting from side to side with their arms in the air. "But it worked with you, no? Are you not a man of results?"


    Molam found himself without an argument. "Well, I can''t refute that."


    Cholani grinned. "A man that knows when he''s been bested too. I like that. Good night, good night, good night. Come find me tomorrow morning for breakfast if you''d like, I know where the sweets can be found. Those can''t stave off a bad day, no, but whoever found sweets a bad way to start a morning?"


    And they sauntered off into the night, humming lightly to themselves. Molam watched their form disappear into the dark, then returned to the wagon looking for his notes.


    <hr>


    Mursa''s Campfire


    "Cholani''s here at your request, Mursa."


    Mursa Shang looked up at Jyuni''s voice, seeing Cholani shuffle into the lamplight''s glow.


    "Cholani." The Mursa greeted warmly, sitting back and gesturing at Jyuni to pour some tea. "Have a seat."


    "No tea, thank you Jyuni, I''ve had enough for the evening," Cholani replied, bowing once to Mursa Shang before sitting in the offered foldable wooden chair. "You asked me to pay attention to the aura around Molam when I speak to him."


    "And?" asked Mursa Shang, leaning forward while dropping his voice to a murmur. He glanced up at Jyuni, who shook her head ¡ª no one was nearby. "Anything worth my attention?"


    "You weren''t exactly clear with what I was looking for," Cholani chided him. "So I assume you only wanted me to come back with what I can say with certainty. Well, I can say that Molam is carrying a jade talisman, but we already knew that. Then the aura around him is the same as the one in Sanctuary, meaning the Oracle hasn''t retracted her aura. But¡­" they paused, suddenly uncertain, before adding, "something feels¡­ burnt."


    Mursa Shang frowned. "Burnt?"


    "Burnt," they repeated. "And not in the same way red auramancers feel. I felt it back during ZhiXia''s Festival, when the Great Bonfire went out, but I guess that doesn''t help you. It''s more¡­ more¡­" they fell silent. Mursa Shang and Jyuni stared; it was a rare moment when Cholani was lost for words. "I don''t know how to describe it to you since you don''t sense it the way I do," they eventually continued, then tapped a cinnamon stick against the lantern, pointing at the flame inside. "This is what normal auramancers feel like. A flame contained inside glass. You can feel the heat radiating, but that''s the extent of it. It''s contained. And the sensation lingering around Molam," they pointed to the giant bonfire in the middle of their circle of wagons, "is more akin to standing near a blazing bonfire. Except it''s not¡­ constant? I don''t know how to describe it. It''s there, and sometimes it''s not. In a way, it''s like the lingering smell of a smothered bonfire. I don''t know if that''s because he also carries the Oracle''s aura."


    Mursa Shang pondered that for a moment. "Have you ever been in the presence of the WildFire?"


    "No, Mursa."


    "That must have been my mistake, not dragging you to those meetings." Mursa Shang smiled at his friend, then clapped Cholani on the shoulder. "But it doesn''t matter. You''ve helped me confirm that Molam has something different about him; that''s all I needed to know. Thank you, Cholani."


    "I''m happy to have been of service." Cholani stood up and bowed. "Good night, Mursa. Thank you for the praise!"


    "And I''ll turn a blind eye to you pilfering from my desserts."


    Cholani froze, then smiled widely. "I''m quite sure you bought those for me."


    "Only after a job well done, not before. Bah. Go get some rest, now. Mursa has spoken."


    After Cholani sauntered off to their wagon, Mursa Shang poured himself some tea, sipping at it quietly. Jyuni sat down opposite him, her expression serious.


    "Is Cholani''s observation enough to say Molam can utilize spirits?" she asked.


    "I don''t know," Mursa Shang answered honestly. "None of the inherited memories have any inkling about spirit usage. All we know is: Molam didn''t lie when I questioned him about it, he was willing to accept the contracted obligation to help cleanse Mur of DuskWing''s influence, and¡­ Cholani''s description just now."


    "Burnt," Jyuni echoed. "Like a bonfire compared to a flame."


    "Mmhmm," Mursa Shang drummed his fingers across his knee, contemplating. "I''ll have to test him myself, I think."


    "You will force him?" asked Jyuni, surprised.


    "No. We can, but we should not force his hand; that much I''ve learned." He continued drumming his fingers, thinking deeply. There seemed to be no choice. "As much as I hate it, I''ll probably need to take a calculated loss so he believes he''s gaining at my expense."


    "That''s¡­ very unlike you."


    Mursa Shang laughed at his apprentice''s careful choice of words. "Don''t lose track of what matters when focusing on the small things. Do you remember what''s at stake? What did Molam remind you to think about when you practiced negotiating with him?"


    Jyuni''s face stiffened, but she answered. "If Molam successfully passes Mursa Allyce''s test and unifies the three caravans, to focus on which Mursa gains control after Molam leaves."


    "I''m delighted you remember," Mursa Shang said. It was important that Jyuni remembered this lesson; she often focused too much on the small things and neglected the bigger matters. "Remember: our advantage against the other two Mursa is that we get to spend time with Molam on the way to Oasis. So take the time to get to know him, understand him, and learn as much you can about him, Jyuni. Pass that down to the rest as well. We''re going to make sure that after all is said and done, Molam chooses to pass down the role of unifier to you or me, and not Mursa Khan or Mursa Allyce. Do you understand?"


    Jyuni nodded, bowing her head.


    "Good. Mursa has spoken."

 Ch 74: Valleys End

    The large mountain range separating the Central Valley''s western and southern borders from the Endless Sands is known as EarthShaker''s Promise.


    It is hypothesized that without this mountain range, the Endless Sands would have long ago spilled over into the Central Valley. There is a separate theory that the Endless Sands once spread all the way to the Deep Waters on the east coast during the Eternal Night, though geological studies are still being conducted. Regardless, many Scholars believe the buffer provided by EarthShaker''s Promise allowed the Central Valley to flourish into what it is today.


    Oral tales say EarthShaker raised the formation during the Eternal Night, when a horde of demons pursued the Companions on their search for the Stairs. The Gods punished EarthShaker for his interference by stripping the dragon of his flight, causing him to crash through the mountain range he had raised.


    The impact formed the canyon now called Heaven''s Wake, and it was through this canyon that the demons swarmed. The Companions were forced to hold the pass, simultaneously protecting themselves and the flightless dragon, in order to buy time for the Great Sage to set down a runic barrier.


    Today, a small town called Klagynah has taken root around the Great Sage''s runic keystone, which remains active to this day and continues to fulfill its role in repelling the monsters of the Sands. The town enjoys a certain trade status given its position between the Endless Sands and the Central Valley. Many alchemists also visit, seeking to study the Great Sage''s work known as the Sage''s Barrier.


    ¡ª Excerpt from The Formations of Our World, by Head Scholar Panmoru of the Fallen Star Pavilion


    <hr>


    Outskirts of Klagynah


    "That''s Klagynah?" Kalle squinted into the distance, shielding his eyes from the setting Sun. "It''s smaller than I expected."


    "That might just be a matter of perspective," answered Molam. "Then again, it''s not yet a City. Slow down; we''ll need to prepare."


    EarthShaker''s Promise towered over them. The mountain range¡¯s jagged peaks pierced the sky like the sharp canines of an angry predator, and the tallest of them disappeared into the clouds. Soon, they would pass under the shadows of the harsh slopes and enter Klagynah, nestled right at the entrance of the giant canyon known as Heaven''s Wake.


    This was Molam''s second time seeing the unnatural formation running through the mountain range. He knew the stories, of course: Scholars Einar and Tory had babbled endlessly about the Pavilion''s frustration that none of the Companions had written down the exact events, and how the tales must be incomplete. Molam was inclined to agree. He had seen EarthShaker up close before and the dragon, while large, would only cover about half the width of Heaven''s Wake.


    Judging by the amount and size of some of the buildings on the outskirts, Molam wondered when Klagynah would submit a formal bid for City status to the Fallen Star Pavilion. It was the only location hosting one of the Great Sage''s Legacies that had not become a City. The buildings certainly indicated it had the necessary population level, and the small town had made its mark in history compared to most other settlements.


    Then again, perhaps it would be better if Klagynah did not become a City, for it would then have a City Lord. While the Chieftess of the Formosan Isles treated her position as guardian of the Sage''s Staff with somber decorum, the City Lords of Vhashan had recently threatened to build a cover over the Sage''s Ring if neighboring Cities did not acquiesce to their trade demands. If a City Lord controlled Klagynah, would they abuse their position as protector of the Sage''s Barrier? Molam imagined that wasn''t a question either the Empire or the Free Cities wanted to ask, and that was why no one had been able to concentrate enough power in Klagynah to claim the position. The current coalition of Guilds shared dispersed control over the town, and it seemed to be enough.


    "Look sharp!" Meera rode up to them, slinging three waterskins from her horse. Primrose snagged hers in midair, Molam dodged one as it fell into the wagon, and the third smacked into Kalle''s shoulder, falling to his lap.


    "That''s your allotted water for the night," Meera informed them, guiding her horse near their wagon. "I assume Molam knows, but Primrose and Kalle are new, so listen up. Klagynah is the last place coin is readily accepted, while water drastically increases in value. Do you understand? This will be a good time to practice guarding your water and drinking sparingly. We''ll be staying the night in Klagynah, and tomorrow we will enter the Endless Sands."


    "Thank you, Meera." Primrose slung the waterskin over her shoulder, adjusting it so the leather strap wouldn''t hinder her movements.


    "And you, Kalle," Meera pointed at the alchemist, then hesitated. An eye twitched before she cautioned, "be careful around the Oasians. The ones here are still close to Oasis¡­ and so certain sentiments haven''t¡­ changed." She paused again, then threw a look of disapproval at Molam. "I don''t know why you would put your own up to this. I really don''t."


    Molam didn''t reply, but Kalle smiled at Meera. "Molam wanted me here, and so here I am. I appreciate your concern!"


    "Hm." The mursashu didn''t take her eyes off Molam, then shrugged at Kalle. "You''re a brave man," she told him, then addressed their group, "the Mursa will arrange for room and board tonight at the inn we frequent. This includes reserving the bathhouse for our caravan. Make use of it; it''ll take ten days to reach Mur and another ten days after that to reach Oasis. The only bathing you''ll be able to afford out there is sand bathing."


    She rode off, guiding her horse back to the head of the caravan.


    "I suppose that means I shouldn''t go take a look at the Great Sage''s work even though I''m in Klagynah," Kalle said. His voice was light, but Molam heard the note of disappointment in his voice.


    "It''s not worth your life, Kalle." Molam reached up to give him a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder.


    "Is it that important?" asked Primrose.


    "Oh, but it is! I think most alchemists make it a point to study each of the Great Sage''s Four Legacies at least once! The Sage''s Barrier stands out by having the most complex design and still repelling the monsters of the night after a thousand years ¡ª a shame, missing such an opportunity to study it in person!"


    Primrose leaned in, evidently fascinated. "I''ve always wondered ¡ª it makes little sense that the Great Sage produced better results working with knowledge you don''t have today. Auramasters have increased in number over time as some Titled Ones develop new methods of teaching auramancy; so what makes it so difficult for modern alchemists to have built atop the Great Sage''s work to create things faster, or more easily?"


    "Ah, the path to learning alchemy has certainly become easier over time," Kalle agreed. "In fact, we''re far more efficient with runes today. The Great Sage needed multiple lines of runes to accomplish what we can more easily summarize today. But just as you auramancers have auramasters, then above that is the difficult process of achieving a Domain ¡ª alchemy has a similar problem. The rank of Master Alchemist is only given to those who overcome the final threshold known as ForeSight, and even then Master Alchemists only manage a fraction of what the Great Sage or a Prodigy like Nettie can do."


    "I¡­ am not sure what that means?" Primrose held a genuinely quizzical tone. "ForeSight?"


    "Eh, terrible naming, if I''m being honest," admitted Kalle. "I would say there has to be a better name, but I can''t think of any."


    Molam almost laughed at that. "If even an alchemist is calling it a horrendous name, then it truly is bad."


    "There''s no better way to describe it!" Kalle protested, then turned back to Primrose. "Some people think of it as how we design things to withstand change in time. See, once an alchemist masters the basics of runecarving and designing for the immediate problem at hand, the alchemist must then begin to imagine how the problem will shift and change in the future. The reason why this is so hard to learn is because circumstances are always changing and the learnings of our predecessors may not apply to the present day. As a matter of fact, Master Flangel wrote several excellent theses on the subject as to why ForeSight is so hard to teach, and that perhaps we''ve gone about teaching ForeSight incorrectly given the complexities involved. I actually have some thoughts regarding the matter given my own limited experience with ForeSight, and I do believe Master Flangel was correct when he spoke of¡­"


    "Kalle," Molam interrupted gently. "It might be easier to tell Primrose how ForeSight is tested for Master Alchemists or the Prodigy."


    "Ah, that''s a good idea," agreed Kalle, who might have also seen Primrose''s face slip into her normal look of polite interest. "The test for ForeSight is simple. If I show you a cup of water, can you draw its splashed form out before we tip it over?"


    Primrose frowned. "What?"


    Kalle spoke more slowly as he repeated, "If I show you a cup of water¡ª"


    "No, I heard you," Primrose interrupted Kalle, "I''m just asking¡­ what? What is that testing for?!"


    "For ForeSight," answered Molam with a straight face.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    Primrose punched him on the arm without looking. "I just don''t understand; why this test? And how did alchemists even decide upon it? Is there no better test?!"


    "Well¡­" Kalle rubbed his head, as though trying to think of the best way to explain it. "Let''s see¡­ Ah. If I drop a knife, where do you think it''ll land?"


    "On the ground?" asked Primrose dubiously, clearly suspecting a trick question.


    "Correct. It will drop, and either land tip down into the ground, or bounce off and eventually land on its side. And if I drop fifty knives?"


    "Some will land in the ground, some will bounce and rest on their sides?"


    "Well done!" answered Kalle. "But do you know how many will do which?"


    Primrose responded with a blank face. "I can only say, maybe only ten or less will land on their points?"


    "And why can''t you be more specific?"


    "That''s a lot of knives to keep track of," Primrose made a face at Kalle. "How can I accurately know how they''ll impact each other during the fall?"


    "And that''s why it''s hard to master ForeSight," Kalle beamed. "Well, not that I can do it easily either. In a controlled drop, where I know the exact distance, weight, starting orientation, and more factors, I can probably calculate the final position of fewer than a hundred knives. Now, the Prodigies can tell you exactly how a cup of water will spill out. Nettie''s test at the age of three had her tell the Council which birds would take flight when being startled, and the Great Sage Vareon is said to have used his ForeSight to predict the state of our world throughout the ages. That''s why his Four Legacies function perfectly to this day despite the changes! It''s also why the eight hundred and eighty-eight layers of runes on the Sage''s Barrier is considered a masterpiece; each of the layers is supposed to interact with the others in an impossible woven tapestry to achieve an ever-evolving balance where¡­"


    Molam''s mind drifted. Seeing Kalle''s animated gestures as he explained the intricacies of alchemic thinking to Primrose''s expression of genuine interest only brought his internal feelings of guilt to the forefront of his thoughts.


    Meera was right for her look of disdain earlier. It was a mistake to bring Kalle to Oasis. Molam hadn''t considered further than thinking about potentially needing an alchemist with him. How could he have been so stupid? Had he purposefully ignored Kalle''s look of surprise and trepidation at the mention of going to Oasis?


    How did forcing Kalle to come to Oasis make Molam any different from a village of people who had once burned a boy because it suited their needs? Any alchemist would have worked, and no doubt there would have been a chance to persuade a few in Klagynah. It may be an added expense given most would not be willing to travel to Oasis, but Molam was quite sure it was possible. It was stupid ¡ª foolish ¡ª of him to not have thought about this ahead of time. Kalle could die. Martyker had died because Molam hadn''t taken the possibility seriously. He shouldn''t force Kalle to go to Oasis; there was still time to pick someone else. Now they were in Klagynah, which meant that he needed to ¡ª


    A finger prodded his cheek. "Molam? You''ve been silent for some time now."


    Molam flinched out of his reverie. He looked around, realizing both Primrose and Kalle were staring at him.


    "Is everything alright?" Primrose asked, looking poised to poke him again.


    "Distracted while thinking about Mursa Allyce, I take it?" asked Kalle.


    "...no," Molam replied. "No. Actually, I was thinking¡­ about you, Kalle. Meera¡­" he hesitated at their looks of confusion, then continued, "Meera was right. I shouldn''t be forcing you to come with us to Oasis. You can stay in Klagynah and find time to look at the Great Sage''s artifact. I should''ve given this matter more thought when you expressed your concerns back in ZhiXia. We haven''t exited the Central Valley yet, and now that we''re here ¡ª"


    "You brought me for a reason, yes?" Kalle responded lightly, guiding the horses with a flick of the reins. "Nettie was not an option and you had no other alchemist. I''m certain you wouldn''t have asked me to come with you to Oasis otherwise."


    Primrose raised an eyebrow at Molam, shaking her head. It was a clear signal to stop, but Molam felt he owed Kalle more than that. "Kalle. It''s one thing for me to believe I need an alchemist with me. It''s another to disregard your own concerns on the matter of¡­ well, you, going to Oasis. You''ll probably experience some of it in Klagynah." He clapped a friendly hand on Kalle''s shoulder, finding it tense despite the man''s lighthearted words. "If tomorrow you decide to stay or turn back, I''ll be supportive. I''ll fully respect your decision if you want to return to ZhiXia or wait for us in another City ¡ª Tarryn isn''t too far from here."


    "Molam. I''ll manage." Kalle turned, showing him a smile. He pointed to the large scar across his face. "Look at this. You think it''s the first time I''ve been in a place where I''m treated terribly?"


    The symbol of shame shone prominently on Kalle''s face, a raised, off-colored welt slashing from cheek to cheek over the bridge of his nose. It demanded anyone''s attention whenever they spoke to him. A part of Molam ¡ª the polite, well-meaning part ¡ª wanted to look away. Pretend he hadn''t noticed. Molam''s short stint in the Northern Plains had been enough to see how some of the Northerners treated those with undecorated scars. Even Shurra had seemed to force herself to interact with Kalle without judgment, preferring to look away from his scar whenever they conversed.


    But was that fair to Kalle, who kept it uncovered?


    "I think Molam just wants you to know that you can choose, Kalle." Primrose sat down next to them, folding her knees to her chest. "Or maybe he''s finally grown a conscience about what he''s really asking us to do," she added, then winked at him.


    "I don''t take any of your lives for granted," Molam replied. Names ¡ª a list he had memorized as a result of repeated re-reading ¡ª leapt through his mind. One lingered. A large greatsword lay somewhere in the wagon behind him, a physical reminder of a promise he held dear. "Every person should¡­ be able to decide how they want their life to be. I guess," he finished lamely, "I just don''t want you to feel that I expect to be obeyed."


    "Oh Lord Molam, how else can I be of service?" Kalle teased, then laughed. Molam tried to remain serious, then cracked into laughter as well. Primrose covered her mouth, but Molam could see from the way her cheeks lifted and her eyes crinkled that she was trying hard not to show laughter of her own.


    "Don''t you ever call me that again," Molam said once he¡¯d recovered.


    "Is Mursa Molam better?" Primrose joined in.


    "Mursa Molam!" Kalle chortled. "Perhaps soon, ey?"


    The three of them bickered lightheartedly as the wagon trundled into Klagynah. The sinking feeling in Molam''s stomach didn''t fully go away, but it seemed smaller than before. Kalle knew the risks, and had still chosen to come. Because Molam had asked.


    He clapped the man''s shoulder in appreciation.


    "Hm?" asked the alchemist.


    "Eyes on the road, Kalle," Molam said out loud instead of what he had intended to say. "We''re stopping soon."


    <hr>


    Klagynah


    Though Klagynah was not large enough to be called a City, it was still sizable enough for them to be greeted by its bustling residents, eager to see what the mursashu caravan had brought or was looking to buy. The setting Sun had prompted various people to put out lanterns for light; Molam even spotted flameless lanterns, glowing gems inlaid with runes of alchemy. As a whole, the town was luminous enough to navigate with clarity, and their caravan trundled through the streets while Molam took a look around.


    Klagynah''s most striking feature was probably the prevalence of Oasians, a sharp contrast to the diversity common in most Cities in the Central Valley. Darker skin, full and voluminous curls, and regal-looking faces could be seen everywhere, a clear indicator of Oasian heritage. Some were recent migrants, staying in Klagynah to wait for friends and family members before they ventured into the Central Valley. Others stayed because Klagynah remained truly neutral, and they did not want to become embroiled in the politics of the Free Cities and the Empire of the Sun.


    The non-Oasians were varied in their backgrounds. Many were here to make a living, for money flowed freely in the one town that linked Oasis to the rest of the Central Valley, forcing the lucrative jade trade to pass entirely through its gates. Molam saw alchemists with their trinkets and inventions laid out in front of them, shouting to the mursashu about their wares for purifying water or keeping it chilled. The caravan passed gleaming shields, well-crafted spears, and even a few greatswords hanging outside three smitheries, with apprentices and journeymen demonstrating the usefulness of their creations to skeptical buyers. He spotted a few clothing shops, closed for the day, but the colorful tapestries hanging from their second floor windows indicated their specialty in making clothes out of Oasian weaving.


    Some transplants to Klagynah came out of a sense of goodwill. Molam had spotted several signs written in Common, promising jobs and a better life for those who escaped the crushing culture of Oasis. Those who dealt with the mursashu for a one-way trip out of the Sands often found themselves destitute, and since a Shrine had never been established in Klagynah, there was no aid from Sanctuary. Because of this, it spoke volumes of the people who had come to fill in the gap and help the Oasian refugees.


    The only people missing from the town were Northerners. While Tribespeople like Kalle and Shurra were rare enough south of Crescent City, most towns and Cities had several Northern Warriors working on their Hunt. But Molam did not need to notice their inconspicuous absence; Klagynah, while not Oasis itself, had certainly inherited the distasteful prejudices of its Oasian refugees.


    Their caravan passed by an unlit area of the street. The momentary darkness brought other senses to the fore, and Molam took notice of the scent of spices long wafting in front of his nose. His stomach rumbled indignantly.


    Food, of course, unified any gathering. Here, the many culinary scenes of the Central Valley were on full display. Open stalls took advantage of their proximity to the streets to fan the scent of burning charcoal and sizzling spices into the caravan''s space, and Molam found his mouth watering after the long day''s travel. There was no escape from the alluring hiss of burning oil as woks were stirred with frying vegetables and rice was mixed with diced meat. Even the tanned skin of Islanders could be seen as many of them brought the famous tastes of the Formosan Isles to even the furthest border of the Central Valley. Molam found himself staring, trying to decide if Formosan cooking could work this far inland without access to the fish of the Deep Waters. An Islander cook saw Molam staring as he grabbed a small handful of spice, winked at Molam, then held up his hand purposefully over the wok as he sprinkled the aromatic seasoning over a plate of food.


    "Whatever it is I''m smelling, I hope that''s for dinner tonight," Kalle growled. "By the Gods, how far inside do we need to be traveling? I''m starving."


    "There''s leftover jerky," Molam remembered, pointing to the pouch on Kalle''s waist.


    "No," Kalle asserted, determined. "I''m eating food tonight. Preferably something with soft bread. And some drinks."


    "And I," Primrose declared with equal fervor, "am having a bath tonight."


    The two of them looked at Molam, who was unprepared. "I¡­" he began, searching for an idea of what he even wanted. Jade? Good sleep? Something else? "I don''t know. I guess I''ll¡ª"


    "You''ll be reading your notes again tonight." Kalle teased with a wry grin. "I hope Mursa Allyce is as striking as they say, given your obsession with learning about her."


    "I am not obsessed," Molam protested. "There''s a reason¡ª"


    Primrose elbowed him lightly, "I''ve seen lovesick people read the same things over and over again. Or, it''s someone insane. Oh! Are you the type to think that love and insanity are one and the same?"


    Molam stared at the two of them with a gaping mouth, unsure what to say. The two of them winked at each other, then Kalle held out a loose fist. Primrose bumped it with her own.

 Ch 75: Brighter Shores

    My professional opinion, having inspected the Sage''s Barrier for the last three years at your request is: it is possible to recreate the Sage''s Barrier, but it is an unrealistic endeavor.


    Allow me to start by stating the resources we would need: roughly ten years¡¯ worth of time, and easily a hundred Master Alchemists. Of course, I am aware there are currently fewer than sixty at time of writing.


    I can already predict the complaint. Yes, the stories say the Great Sage Vareon created the Barrier while the Companions were being besieged at Heaven''s Wake. You are correct that he did not rely on processed jade, and was limited to rudimentary techniques compared to the ones we have today. But while the Sage''s Mirror cannot be replicated because it carries the Great Sage''s aura, the Sage''s Barrier cannot be replicated because of two things:


    First, it has consistently metamorphosed over the centuries per the Sage''s ForeSight, allowing for adaptation to the current times. The runes we see today are not the original runes the Great Sage laid down.


    Second, while it is possible to reconstruct previous versions if you give me enough Master Alchemists and all the historical records of each year, we have no idea of the order in which the Great Sage laid down these runes. The ordering of layers has a drastic effect on the outcome when it comes to any work over forty two lines.


    Now, to answer the pertinent question: the actual part of the Barrier we commonly think about is less than eighty lines long and can be created by just myself in a few months. But it would not be stable or sturdy, and I imagine my creation would fall apart when it faced an aberrant monster or if EarthShaker ever impacted the immediate area.


    The true value of the Barrier is found in the hundreds of supporting lines, which I imagine even a Prodigy would find difficult to understand. I could not wrap my mind around the full complexity of the eight hundred and eighty-eight layers of runes. Do you have any inkling why the Great Sage would include thirteen lines for the movement of the tides when Klagynah is so far from the Deep Waters? Or how it could possibly be related to the number of newborns each season? I certainly have no clue.


    This is critical, as whomever is unfortunate enough to oversee the recreation project would need to understand how each of these lines should be layered together in harmony. You once told me that even the Fallen Star Pavilion is never certain about the weather predictions despite being capable of consulting centuries of records. I hope you can begin to understand how humbling it is for us alchemists to realize our ForeSight is lacking compared to the Great Sage''s, despite having a thousand years¡¯ worth of additional knowledge and understanding of the world.


    I predict you will insist. In which, Flangel the Wise could potentially oversee such a project. But I doubt the former Prodigy will want to, given his activities the past few decades. You will need to first convince him that recreating the Sage''s Barrier will not result in any harm to people.


    Which brings me to my last noteworthy discovery. There are several lines of runes where I suspect the Great Sage hid even more undiscovered secrets, as it is not clear to me what those lines are meant to accomplish despite three years of contemplating them. I would not be surprised if the Great Sage even predicted we would try to replicate his Barrier and added these lines to distract any observer.


    Your colleague Scholar Rymann has put forth a theory that the Great Sage was on guard against someone trying to unravel the Barrier. Anything easily understood would be simple to undo or find a workaround. I confess it to be an interesting theory with a morbid premise: that someone on this side of the Barrier would actively try to weaken or destroy it.


    Thankfully, some four hundred lines or so seem dedicated to maintaining the Barrier''s intended functions. These lines are written in such a way that I imagine attempting to add, remove, or modify any lines would only result in the runes being reworked into the Barrier''s pre-existing harmony.


    Exactly how far ahead did the Great Sage predict with his ForeSight? We may never know.


    ¡ª Note from Master Alchemist Fuyumi to Head Scholar ZuanBing


    <hr>


    The Inn


    The inn turned out to be a large establishment, tucked three-quarters of the way through Heaven''s Wake. Brighter Shores was its name, and one could tell that the owner Garyn delighted in the metaphor. The portly man had enthusiastically told each guest ¡°Where the sand meets the water, see?¡± Not that Molam thought of the Central Valley as "water," but he could see how Oasians viewed it. For those who grew up in the Endless Sands, the Central Valley must have looked like paradise when they first beheld its verdant greenery, streams, rivers, and even lakes.


    The mursashu entered from the side gate, removing the harnesses from the tired horses and leading them to the stables in Brighter Shores. Choji''s mursasho provided reliable aid, rolling the wagons into an orderly line. Another mursasho, led by a sharp woman named Rovena, was laboring to unload the cargo. Molam heard mutterings about sand sleds and securing a requisite number of camels, and sending someone to the shops for travel provisions. Soon, their wagon was also parked, and the trio were ushered into a different line, where the innkeeper''s wife distributed rooms for the night.


    Merryn was a handsome-looking woman, whose deliberate gesticulating seemed designed to draw attention to the rings of jade decorating her ears and nose. Molam thought the performance unnecessary, for the white-green of the jade jewelry already stood out against her smooth, dark skin. Several hairpins made of the same material were threaded through her voluminous, curly black hair, dangling with bright silver spirals. The overall look made it hard to focus on her when she talked, though she was quick and meticulous when speaking to each mursashu as they shuffled forward to receive their room keys.


    Molam and his two companions were the last to approach, and Merryn''s demeanor changed as her eyes lit on Kalle. She let out an involuntary "Oh!", then covered it with a smooth "You''re quite¡­ far from home, aren''t you? We haven''t any beds for a Northerner¡­''s" she added the possessive hastily, "a Northerner''s size. We don''t have any, do we, Garyn? Garyn!"


    Garyn walked in from outside, blinking at the brightly lit interior. Molam noticed the man''s thick hair was neatly combed and his clothes pristine, with the exception of a bit of dirt on his hems and shoes. He must have taken great care to change and freshen up before the mursashu caravan arrived. "What''s the matter, love?"


    Merryn raised her eyebrows, then tilted her head towards Kalle. "We don''t have a bed for a Northerner, do we?"


    "I don''t mind curling up," muttered Kalle, rubbing his head with his large hand.


    "I''m speaking to my husband," Merryn replied, turning back to them with a forced smile. "Garyn, tell them you didn''t prepare a bed for a Northerner''s size."


    "No," said the innkeeper slowly, then he blinked twice, and repeated it more forcefully. "No, I didn''t." He looked at Molam and Primrose, then called loudly, "Mursa Shang, may we speak for a moment?"


    Molam interjected gently, unwilling to be contentious. "It doesn''t have to be a large bed, I''m sure. Just anything soft for Kalle to sleep on so he¡¯s not stuck on the floor?"


    "There''s hay in the barn," suggested the innkeeper''s wife. "He ¡ª Kalle, is it? ¡ª I''m sure he''ll find it comfortable enough."


    Molam found Primrose''s arm in front of him before he could speak. She tilted her head towards the innkeeper''s wife, then said sweetly, "you must be mistaken. We''re specifically here to sleep in beds. If you put two beds side by side, I''m certain you could accommodate our friend."


    "I am afraid we cannot, as we have a one room one bed policy," said Garyn softly.


    "As I was saying," Kalle stressed, making himself heard. "I don''t mind curling up."


    Garyn stepped forward immediately, pointing a threatening finger as he looked up at Kalle. "Don''t you dare raise your voice at my wife," the man hissed, then froze.


    Primrose had grabbed his finger. In one smooth motion, she pulled herself closer to Garyn, draping a slow arm over his shoulder, her other hand coming to rest on the man¡¯s neck. "While I''m still in the mood to work with you, I''d like for you to just hand us the room keys and let''s all retire to our beds, yes?"


    "Hello, Garyn, you called?" Mursa Shang had walked back into the foyer from his room. The man''s black hair had been unbound, and his clothes seemed hastily thrown on. He frowned as he caught the last moments of Primrose letting a disheveled Garyn go and sliding back towards Kalle. "What''s going on here?"


    "We never discussed housing a Northerner," said Garyn, smoothing out his clothes. "I''m afraid I don''t have any beds that could accommodate him."


    Mursa Shang blinked, as though surprised by this knowledge. "But Garyn, Brighter Shores has always prided itself on being able to cater to our needs and deliver the best service. What''s stopping you now?"


    "Pride, of course," Garyn huffed, "in giving the best service. I can¡¯t continue with that claim if I give someone a bed they won¡¯t enjoy, now can I? It would bring dishonor to our reputation! If¡­ if you had said something about needing this ahead of time, yes, we would have been able to get a custom-built bed. But as you did not, can you blame us for not wanting to provide subpar service?"


    "That''s strange. The bed in my room could certainly fit Kalle, so I guess you only have one?" Mursa Shang''s frown deepened. "We''ve been traveling the entire day, and plan on leaving early tomorrow. Where do you suggest my friend sleep then?"


    Merryn spoke up again. "The barn. We just received fresh hay, the children love diving through it."


    "I see, I see. Thank you for the suggestion, Merryn," Mursa Shang bowed his head, then turned back to Garyn. "But you see, Garyn," the Mursa said gently, "I believe I paid for all of your delightful rooms, which are ¡ª if the ones I passed by were any indication, fully capable of housing my friend Kalle?"


    "The money can be returned," Garyn replied, his voice equally low. "We''ll return you enough for one room. Will that satisfy you?"


    "Oh, but it could not," Mursa Shang stepped forward, putting a hand above his heart. "And leave me with the guilt of having cost you the opportunity to make money because a room went unused? I couldn''t bear it! I''ll tell you what ¡ª Garyn," he put a reassuring hand on the innkeeper''s shoulder. "I''ll use it."


    The innkeeper reared his head away from Mursa Shang, but did not shake off the man''s hand. "But¡­" he said slowly, as though trying to understand. "You already have a room."


    "Ah, that''s right." Mursa Shang looked over at them, then tossed a set of keys at Kalle. "Straight down the hall, Room One. The bed is too big for me regardless."


    "Mursa Shang, this is improper!" protested Garyn, who was exchanging swift looks with his wife Merryn. "That room was reserved specifically for you!"Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    "And I''m passing it to my friend."


    "We''re afraid that the larger bed in Room One was only built with size in mind, and¡­ and it might not host the Northerner''s weight," Merryn chimed in. "I wouldn''t want a guest to become gravely injured because the bed collapses, now!"


    "He''ll be on top of a mattress," Primrose pointed out. "Probably a soft landing."


    "You can''t be certain," Merryn warned shrilly. "He might suffer back injuries, you know? And then where will our reputation be if we are found to be the ones at fault? Wagons and carts, now, they''ve made it so the younger generation doesn''t understand the backbreaking work of carrying something heavy like water. Now, you think that a mattress is enough cushion, but then¡­"


    A fiery plume winked into existence, silencing Merryn and causing everyone to take a step back in alarm. Molam stepped forward, clenching the space where the flames dissipated, internally grateful that Kalle''s flametool worked as promised. He pulled his fist down and gave the innkeeper and his wife the flattest stare he could manage. In the ensuing quiet, Molam kept his voice soft and the message simple: "We can promise your establishment won''t be held responsible if the bed breaks."


    Merryn deflated, shrinking from his tone, but Garyn held a protective hand around his wife. "And if the bed breaks, we are out of a perfectly good, working bed!"


    "I will happily fix it for you," Kalle offered.


    Garyn tilted his head back, trying to look down his nose at Kalle despite the alchemist¡¯s taller stature. "I think not," he said forcefully, "or I''d be forced to give a bed that''s been supposedly ''fixed'' by a Northerner to another patron. And when that inevitably breaks because of shoddy workmanship, then our reputation is ruined!"


    Mursa Shang stepped in front of Molam and Primrose, grabbing Garyn''s free hand and pressing three gold coins firmly into his palm. "A deposit, then," the Mursa insisted, closing Garyn''s hand around the coins. "If the bed breaks, you may replace it."


    Garyn seemed to struggle to pull his hand free of the Mursa''s grip, but then Mursa Shang leaned forward and whispered forcefully, "this is my best offer, Garyn. You should take it while I''m negotiating for a friendly result. Do we¡­ have an understanding?"


    The innkeeper and his wife recoiled at the Mursa''s silky tone. Garyn looked down, then his arm seemed to go limp. "The Northerner may have Room One."


    "Excellent. And the rest of our rooms?"


    Garyn looked at Merryn, who walked off, but not before throwing one last dirty look at Kalle. "I will get you your keys," the innkeeper grumbled, walking to the wall where various keys hung on hooks. He took down three, offering one to Mursa Shang and tossing the other two to Molam and Primrose without looking. "Breakfast is at daybreak in the main hall."


    <hr>


    Primrose separated from them with a swift nod, seemingly eager to reach the baths and unwind from the long journey. Molam watched her go, then turned his attention back to Kalle and Mursa Shang as they headed toward Room One. The door to the room stood ajar, already brightly lit with the soft glow of lanterns, casting a warm, inviting hue against the cool shadows of the hallway. The Mursa stepped inside first, his movements purposeful and fluid as he began picking up some of his personal effects scattered across the room, preparing to pass it on to Kalle.


    He set down a small bundle of items before turning to Kalle and Molam with a measured look. ¡°Good night to the both of you,¡± he said, his tone rich with sincerity. ¡°I¡¯m sorry you had to experience that, Kalle. Garyn and Merryn are normally quite agreeable. I didn¡¯t expect they''d... hold onto certain sentiments.¡± There was an underlying tension in his voice, the subtle weight of regret lingering in his words.


    "Thank you for your help, Mursa Shang," Kalle said respectfully, giving him a nod. His gaze remained steady, though there was a slight flicker of exhaustion in his eyes. "I don''t blame you at all. It''s not your fault for how others act."


    Mursa Shang gave a short, thoughtful nod in return. "If anyone bothers you again, Kalle, just call for me and I''ll deal with it." The Mursa hesitated, looking as though he wanted to say more. His attention lingered on Kalle for a moment, then he seemed to give an almost imperceptible shrug, and turned to Molam. he bowed his head, and said, "I pray God Yven sends the two of you sweet dreams. Molam, I will see you on the morrow."


    With that, the Mursa quietly exited the room, leaving the door slightly ajar behind him. Molam stood there for a moment, his mind turning over the brief exchange. He glanced over at Kalle, who was now methodically unrolling a bundle of clothes from his pack, carefully placing each item on a nearby chair. The room was spacious, fitting for someone of Mursa Shang¡¯s stature. It was easily double the size of the other rooms Molam had seen in the inn, making space for a large desk with a pot of tea and several cups laid out next to parchment, ink, and a selection of quills and brushes.


    Molam walked to the desk, and absent mindedly brushed his fingers over the paper. The stillness in the room stretched out, and for a moment, it felt as though neither of them knew what to say. He wanted to speak, to break the silence, but the words seemed to falter in his mind. What could he possibly say? How could he make it better, if at all? The quiet stretched longer than he had anticipated, each passing breath thick with an unspoken heaviness.


    Just as Molam was about to pipe up with some half-formed sentence, Kalle began to hum quietly to himself. The sound was low and soothing, a simple melody that filled the room. It seemed like he was trying to relax, to ease some of the tension that had built up. The soft hum lingered in the air, and Molam found himself unsure whether it was meant to soothe him, or Kalle, or if it was just a subconscious habit of the alchemist¡¯s.


    Molam shifted slightly, not wanting to disrupt the momentary calm. But then, an uncomfortable thought struck him. Was he the only one painfully avoiding breaching the topic of what had just happened with the innkeeper?


    Kalle had just discussed the situation with Mursa Shang, hadn''t he? So why did Molam feel so hesitant to speak about it now? What could he possibly add to the conversation that wouldn¡¯t just feel like another burden on an already heavy night?


    Several possibilities ran through his mind, each one seeming less suitable than the last.


    I''m sorry. Then what? Kalle had already stated that no one was at fault for how others behaved. Apologies would only draw attention to the discomfort, making it worse.


    I shouldn''t have brought you here. The thought stung with the sharp edge of guilt, but it was immediately countered by the realization that Kalle had chosen this path himself. He could have gone to Tarryn, after all. He had made a choice, one Molam hadn¡¯t pressured him into.


    I didn''t know it would be this bad. A lie, and a clumsy one at that. Molam knew exactly what the situation here was like. Meera had warned him in the clearest terms. This shouldn''t have been a surprise.


    How are you feeling? And what exactly could he do with that information? Just listen? Did Kalle even want to share?


    Molam glanced at Kalle again, whose humming had subsided into a quiet silence. He seemed lost in his own thoughts, his hands now folding clothes with practiced ease. Was he reflecting on the same things? Or was it simply Molam who couldn¡¯t move past the discomfort? It was hard to say.


    "Listen, Kalle. I¡­ I can''t stop the actions of others." Wait, this feels like I''m washing my hands of the problem. "I can only focus on the actions I can take, which is to ensure you aren''t an easy target for those who would mistreat you like this. If I ever forget to look out for you, feel free to remind me if anything puts you in undue danger. I give you my word, I¡¯ll do whatever I can to try to help protect you."


    "It''s fine," Kalle replied. "I don''t blame you either. You''ve done nothing wrong." He said it as though the words themselves were a balm for whatever lingering awkwardness had settled between them. But even as Kalle spoke, Molam wasn¡¯t sure he could entirely believe it.


    "I should have been more aware of the likelihood of such a situation occurring," Molam asserted, his mind replaying the uncomfortable scene with Garyn and Merryn, wondering if there was something he could have done differently. "I should have had the ForeSight to tell you to put on a hood, or wait elsewhere while Primrose and I got your key. Then you wouldn''t have been forced to cross paths with the innkeeper. I definitely could have prevented this if I had been more active in thinking about the problems here."


    Kalle, in contrast to Molam¡¯s rushing thoughts,, took his time to fluff up the pillow on the bed and carefully set it down, his hands steady but his posture a bit more slouched than usual. He let out a soft sigh as he sank into the task. "You know, you always speak¡­ differently at times. Times like these," Kalle said, his voice low but carrying an undercurrent of contemplation. "The words and tone¡­ as though you''re so certain a solution will make me feel better. You always seem to have a plan, or a new idea, or something that you think will help. But this isn''t a ForeSight issue. A single person can¡¯t change centuries of cultural tensions, you know?"


    Molam''s knee-jerk instinct was to blurt out a snide remark towards Kalle¡¯s hypocrisy in lecturing people about insisting on the necessity of a solution, but he held himself back. As he bit down the response, he felt the weight of Kalle''s words settling into him. Kalle was right. His automatic response to nearly every situation was to move straight to a plan. It was second nature, taught to him by the spirit who mentored him.


    However, that response didn''t always help. Some things were beyond his control, beyond any foresight or plans. He thought about Kalle¡¯s words and nodded slowly. "I know that. But if the situation can''t be changed, isn''t it up to us to determine how we act or respond to it?" His voice softened, aware that Kalle was already bearing the brunt of something he couldn''t shield him from. "I¡­ just want to help."


    Kalle looked up at him, his expression a mix of understanding and exhaustion. "And the sentiment is appreciated. Very well received, in fact," he said, with a brief, rueful smile. "But I don''t need you to hide me away." He pointed to the mottled scar running across his face. Even the most polite person couldn''t hide the way their gaze flickered whenever they saw Kalle''s scar for the first time. "I don''t even hide this. It''s fine. I expected these situations when I agreed to go to Oasis."


    Molam''s heart twisted at the sight of the mark, at the casual way Kalle referred to it as if it were just another part of him, something to accept. "It..." Molam hesitated, unsure of how to articulate his next thoughts. His gaze lingered on Kalle for a moment before he pushed on. "It will get worse in Oasis. Primrose and I will also experience it, given our lighter shades. I know that, I''ve been there. But it will be far worse for you."


    Kalle¡¯s gaze didn¡¯t waver, his eyes steady as he met Molam¡¯s. He seemed to understand, perhaps better than Molam wanted him to. "I know," Kalle said, the quiet certainty in his tone making Molam feel small, like all his concerns were little more than ripples in a much deeper water. "But what''s a bit of discomfort if it means we can get what we need? Weren''t you the one who told me to never lose sight of our goal?" He paused for a beat, giving Molam a knowing glance. "And to do that, don¡¯t you need jade?"


    Molam blinked, taken aback by Kalle¡¯s blunt reminder. "I mean, yes, but you still have a choice now. You can still¨C"


    "Run to Tarryn?" Kalle interrupted, his voice light but with an edge of amusement. He waited in the heavy silence that followed, watching Molam carefully, then gave him a wink. "And leave you without an alchemist?" The teasing tone cut through the tension in the room, but Molam could hear the undercurrent of sincerity beneath it.


    "I¡­" Molam opened his mouth, but no further words came. He had no response to that. He had known in the back of his mind that Kalle had already made his decision. There was no going back now, not unless Kalle chose to walk away, but that wasn''t something he seemed inclined to do.


    Kalle¡¯s expression softened, the teasing fading into something quieter, more serious. "Molam," he said, his voice low, but still steady. "I¡¯m not doing this because it¡¯s easy. I¡¯m doing it because we have a goal. Well, you do, and I''m just along for the ride because you need an alchemist." He paused briefly, his eyebrows knitting together for a moment. "Okay, I didn''t need to say it like that; we¡¯re in this together. I¡¯m trusting you to get me out of sticky situations, alright?"


    Molam stared at him for a long moment, feeling a mix of admiration and guilt. He understood Kalle¡¯s resolve. However, determination often came at a price, and Molam didn''t think he would be the one paying it. "I don¡¯t want you to suffer," Molam murmured. "I just want to make sure we all make it through this as unscathed as possible."


    Kalle gave him another look, this time a knowing one, before he went back to adjusting his belongings. "We¡¯ll all make it through," he said quietly. "We will."


    Still, the situation felt incomplete and unresolved. It was anxiety inducing for Molam to leave things hanging and without a clear plan. The weight of the conversation had settled heavily in the room as well, and though Kalle seemed to brush it off, Molam couldn''t help but feel that there was more to be said. His mind was racing, turning over every possible way he could help Kalle navigate the inevitable difficulties ahead, but no matter how many scenarios he ran through his head, nothing felt like enough. Nothing felt right. He didn¡¯t want to simply sit back and let things unfold as they would; he needed to do something. If he didn¡¯t take action, situations worse than Garyn and Merryn would come up again, and then what?


    Kalle must have sensed his restlessness, because he suddenly made a gesture to cut the tension. With a dramatic sigh, he pressed a finger to his lips and gave Molam a playful look. "Ah ah ah, I''m tired of this topic. Let''s go sample some food," he suggested, his voice light again. "I''m hungry, and if we keep talking it''ll ruin my appetite."


    They left Room One, following their noses to the main hall, where food had been set out by the inn. Merryn passed by them along the way, and the woman pretended to not notice them as they slid past each other.


    Within the main hall, they found many of the mursashu settling in for a meal, their plates filled with a generous assortment of local dishes. They both joined the main group, with Kalle clearly enjoying himself as he dug into the food. He practically inhaled the delicacies with a gusto that was almost amusing in its contrast to his earlier composure. Molam, on the other hand, found it hard to focus on eating. His mind kept drifting back to the conversation, to the worry that still hovered in the corners of his thoughts. He could see Kalle had apparently relaxed, laughing now and again, but the problem never truly left Molam¡¯s mind. It lingered like an itch he couldn''t quite scratch, even after they all retired to their rooms.


    But how could he change centuries of enmity to protect Kalle? He could barely even protect himself.


    Jade first, he thought as he tried to sleep. The rest¡­ we''ll see.

 Ch 76: Klagynah

    To Head Scholar Yuya,


    Attached you will find our preliminary findings from our recent field research into the mysterious cult known as the Devotees of the Unnamed God. Below is a summary of our current understandings, though it is important to note that our findings are still in an early stage and many questions remain unanswered.


    Appropriately named, the Devotees of the Unnamed God appear to be a dispersed and enigmatic religious group united by the worship of an entity they call the "Eighth God." The beliefs of this group, however, seem to resist clear categorization, as they do not adhere to the common frameworks of other cults that have surfaced throughout known history. While Devotees are found scattered across various Cities, remote villages, and even within the far-reaching corners of the Empire, the manner in which this religion is spreading remains baffling. There is no central figure¡ªno prophet, leader, or organized institution¡ªacting as the driving force behind the movement. This absence of a clear authority makes it exceedingly difficult to trace the origins of their beliefs or to uncover how the cult began. Every time we believe we have identified the earliest known mention of the "Unnamed God" or found a text that could serve as the foundation of their teachings, we are met with the discovery of an even older reference, further complicating our efforts to establish a coherent history.


    At present, we estimate that the religion is at least three centuries old, but this estimate is based on fragmentary and elusive evidence, and we cannot rule out the possibility that it stretches back even further. Given the nature of this belief system, it is clear that we are dealing with a highly decentralized and possibly evolving religion, one that may have originated in multiple places and gradually coalesced into the form we are currently studying.


    One of the most intriguing conversations we had occurred during a discussion about the nature of belief itself (see Appendix 3-6). When we inquired about why the Devotees believe in the existence of an eighth God, they responded by asking why we stopped at seven. Our representative explained that the seven Gods are well documented, with extensive records of human interactions with them, including their names, their associated statues, and even living individuals who have credible claim to have met a God. The Devotee, however, countered by asking, "Have any of you truly met a God?" To which our representative replied that, as far as we knew, the Gods had ascended to Heaven some four centuries ago, leaving no direct interaction with mortals since then.


    The Devotee''s response was: "Our God is just as real. They simply left at different times."


    We request you to search through the ancient archives kept by Head Scholar Panmoru to look into the possibility, and perhaps consult Head Scholar Panmoru''s wisdom on the matter.


    <hr>


    Brighter Shores Inn


    As soon as Molam awoke the next day, Mursa Shang sent a request for his presence.


    "We''re changing the lineup," he said as they walked out to the inn¡¯s yard. It appeared that a mursasho had stayed up late to switch their wagons for something more suited to the sands they would soon be traversing. Large wooden sleds had taken their place, led by teams of two camels each. One of the large animals inspected Molam''s untidied hair and blew out a puff of air, apparently deciding it only resembled the shape of food. "I want your group to be with me near the front when we enter the Endless Sands. We''ll need to protect you specifically to make good on your agreement to help us with Mur."


    "How very heartwarming." Molam ducked under another camel''s inquisitive nose. "I''d almost be convinced you cared for my life, not just what I can do for you."


    "We are entering the Endless Sands, Molam," the Mursa replied, his tone unusually harsh. "Everything will be judged for whether it''s a waste of water. I''m keeping Meera assigned to you as a rider and you''ll be right behind my sled. I believe you are already familiar with each other, so ask her if you need help with the sled''s controls."


    Molam opened his mouth, then thought better of what he was going to say, and changed the subject. "I have a request," he said, watching the Mursa inspect the runners of a sled.


    "What is it?"


    "Is it possible to stop by the Black Pyramid before Oasis?" She was here, he thought. Claiming DuskWing''s Lair. Or perhaps she already claimed it.


    The Mursa''s eyes narrowed. "That would be a sizable detour. A day¡­ maybe two days¡¯ worth of travel, and water too." He pondered Molam, stroking his goatee. "Do you have a specific reason?"


    "I didn''t get to see it last time," Molam replied. "And I would like to spend our journey to Oasis asking you questions about Mursa Synbad."


    "Oho. You want to know about the person who chose Mursa Allyce as his successor," Mursa Shang considered the request. "I do suppose it''s in my best interests to give you some extra time to delve into this more. Done." He paused, then added, "this had better end with you answering Mursa Allyce''s question. Two days'' worth of water for an entire caravan. You understand, don''t you?"


    Molam estimated the cost in his head. Mursa Shang had converted a considerable amount of cargo space to carry enough water for them to survive the trip to Mur and then to Oasis. Most people needed three waterskin''s worth of water a day in the Endless Sands. Given the caravan''s two hundred or so members and the amount of fresh water they each needed to drink, the comparative cost would be¡­


    "I understand it''s an extravagant expense," Molam replied with a nod. Mursa Khan had been similarly uptight about logistics. "So I appreciate how ready you are when agreeing."


    "It would be best if you treated the caravan''s water supply as part of the resources you''ll be able to use, should you answer Mursa Allyce''s question," Mursa Shang reminded him.


    "Reminding me that I could be acting Mursa of three caravans?" Molam tilted his head slyly. "I appreciate the vote of confidence."


    "Hmph." Mursa Shang''s face indicated he wanted to say something pithy, but he seemed to change his mind. He straightened himself, apparently satisfied with his inspection, and pointed towards Brighter Shores where mursashu were heading in for food. "We''ll be the last to arrive; the residents of Klagynah told me both Mursa Khan and Mursa Allyce have already passed through. How confident are you in being able to answer her question?"


    "Not very," Molam admitted as he kept up his strides with Mursa Shang. "It¡¯s like looking for a specific tree in a forest that¡¯s been engulfed in fog. That''s why I would like you to tell me about Mursa Synbad. The more information I have to work with, the better."


    "Ride with me later, then. There''s much to say about him," Mursa Shang scratched at his chin as they walked. Molam noticed he hadn''t shaved cleanly since leaving ZhiXia City. Well, few of the men had, and he himself only shaved when the stubble became too itchy to bear. "Perhaps I''ll start with the story of how Mursa Synbad had an idea to venture out into the Deep Waters, far beyond the Formosan Isles. He was looking for a new place the mursashu could call home."Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    They ducked into the main hall, where food was being served. Molam asked, "I''m curious to learn more about Mursa Synbad''s journey. Did he succeed?"


    "Yes and no," answered the Mursa. His face darkened before adding, "Mursa Synbad found several new lands. But they couldn''t be called home."


    Molam could guess why. "Monsters?"


    "Monsters," the Mursa agreed. "The demons may be gone, but their pets are not."


    <hr>


    Brighter Shores Inn, Main Hall


    Primrose looked up as Kalle sat down at their breakfast table, rummaging around within his pack. The man looked younger without his beard, having asked her to give him a clean shave the night before. After some searching¡ªPrimrose heard the clinking of loose metals and what sounded like glass¡ªKalle pulled out a spoon, fork, and knife. He then purposefully shoved the provided chopsticks to the side.


    She raised an eyebrow at the metal eating utensils. "You''ll need to wash those later, you know. The chopsticks are intended to be discarded after use to help with water conservation."


    "I can lick them clean," the alchemist declared. "But you can stick those chopsticks into a camel''s ¡ª ah, just don''t make me use them. Sorry for making you stay up so late trying to teach me how."


    "You won''t get better if you don''t practice." Primrose dug into her meal. Egg on rice, paired with simple vegetables. The soy sauce was saltier than she expected, so she preferred to just wet her chopsticks in it before picking up food.


    "Do I want to get better? Chopsticks are a terrible invention for eating rice," he complained. "Two sticks for individual granules ¡ª really? Inefficient and poorly thought out by any means. Spoons were invented for a reason!" He spooned out a bit of rice to show Primrose, then ate it with exaggerated movements. "Ask any alchemist ¡ª you want a container-like tool for this. Simple, efficient, usable!"


    "Don''t speak with your mouth full; it muddles your words." Meera set her tray down beside them and pulled up a chair next to Kalle. Primrose appreciated that the mursashu chose to sit on Kalle''s side, away from the window, to block the other diners from seeing him. The Northerner was the only one oblivious to the stares he was getting from the Oasians.


    "I thought you were looking for Molam," said Primrose.


    "He is speaking with the Mursa now," Meera answered, peeling a splinter from her chopsticks before digging into her food. Three steamed buns and a baked yam, topped with what looked like spiced oil. "I''ve been assigned to ride with your group for the remainder of this trip, and the Mursa will be moving your sled to be near his at the front."


    "I see. We''ll be in your care, then." Primrose smiled at Meera. The mursashu didn''t react to Primrose''s smile, seemingly focused on her food. "Will you be helping us with the sled?"


    Meera shook her head, then swallowed. She drank from her cup before answering. "I''ll be riding alongside you on a camel, but the sled will be under your control. You only need to learn how to use the rudder and a stopper. Other than that, it''s similar to a wagon."


    Kalle leaned in. "Rudder?" he asked through a mouthful of greens. "Isn''t that for a ship?"


    Meera stared at Kalle before answering. "They''ll consider you very rude if you speak with a full mouth in Oasis," Meera wrinkled her nose. "This is on top of the¡­ obvious problems they''ll have with you."


    The Northerner grinned sheepishly, then chewed furiously before swallowing.


    "And to answer your question, yes. It''s called a rudder because the concept is the same: just instead of water, you''re guiding the sled through sand."


    Primrose raised an eyebrow. "What''s a rudder?"


    Meera placed a hand flat on the table. "This is the sled or boat, see?" Then with her other hand, she stuck two fingers perpendicularly in between her middle and index finger. "The rudder is like¡­ a thick wooden paddle for steering, like this. Imagine a stream of water or sand flowing past and pushing against that paddle, which you''ve attached to the back of your sled." Meera glanced up, making sure Primrose understood. "This ensures the sled doesn''t slide uncontrollably when going downhill."


    "What if I want to stop?" asked Primrose. "And what about uphill?"


    "Ideally, we never get to that situation. But that''s where the sled driver jams the stopper ¨C a paddle ¨C into the sand to slow down the sled." Meera twisted her fingers sideways, then sighed. "Well, it''ll make more sense when you try it. This can be done in the sand but is quite useless in the water." She shrugged, going back to her food. "As for uphill, the camels are quite strong for tugging a sled. It''s the Mursa''s decision how we traverse the Endless Sands, but each sled can have wheels attached to it if for some reason the Mursa decides we''re going up a steep dune."


    "Thank you for the explanation, Meera," Primrose said politely. She nudged Kalle under the table with her foot; the man was balancing his spoon on his chopsticks over the table''s edge and clearly not paying attention. "Is there anything else Kalle and I should know about traveling in the Endless Sands?"


    Meera finished her yam before answering. "Well¡­ you''ve heard of the Sandwurms, right?"


    Primrose nodded. Everyone had; the Northern Plains had many famous monsters from the Eternal Night such as the jade scorpion, but the monster synonymous with the Endless Sands would be the Sandwurm. Other living things were secondary. Even Lyka had spoken about them, always with a shudder.


    "If we encounter one, is the safest way to kill it by thrusting a spear through their mouth?" Primrose asked directly.


    "Gods no. Safest way is to not get entangled with one at all." Meera drank, then added, "Well, I guess that doesn''t help, since if they''re in the vicinity it''s almost unavoidable. They''re attracted to liquid; so make sure nothing more than your sweat rolls onto the sand, if you even have that much to sweat."


    Kalle''s spoon fell down from the table with a loud clang. He bent down to pick it up, then looked at Meera with alarm. "What about relieving ourselves?"


    "Not onto the Sands. Each sled will have a stoppered pot. A mursasho will collect it each night."


    Primrose wrinkled her nose at the idea of carrying their own waste that way, but accepted it would need to happen. She saw no other way.


    "I''m still concerned with how we could defend ourselves from Sandwurms should the worst happen," she prompted again.


    Meera poked at her last steamed bun. "The three primary weapons of Oasis are chosen specifically for them. The shield, to block their bite and keep the jaw open for someone else to attack the weak point inside. The spear, to attack the brain inside their mouth without putting yourself in reach of their venomous teeth. And some warriors still use the greatsword, which has enough weight to cut through their thick chitin plating if you have the strength to wield one." She began tearing into the bun, then added, "try and get them to face the Sun, if at all possible."


    "What if all I have are shorter blades?" Primrose asked. She felt their weight on her limbs, wondering what was possible.


    "Throw them?" Meera smiled grimly at her. "If you''re willing to get in range of the venom, you''re a braver woman than I''ll ever be."


    Primrose hesitated. No, she was not. "If we get poisoned, how long do we have to¡­ make a decision?"


    "Ten breaths. Maybe less." Meera paused, chewing on nothing. Then she added, "don¡¯t hesitate the moment you feel the chill locking up your limbs. I wouldn''t. At least," she corrected herself, "I''d like to think I wouldn''t hesitate. You want to die as a human, yes?"


    Though Kalle hadn''t changed the way he sat, Primrose could see the rigidness in his posture. His normally grinning face had stiffened and Primrose wondered if her own look of politeness had faltered.


    No. Her training hadn''t failed her. No doubt she and Kalle were wondering the same thing. Could I do it? Primrose liked to think she could. She wanted to believe she could. Kalle could, she told herself. Molam could. Scarlette could.


    "I would like to form a rider''s agreement with the two of you," Meera¡¯s voice was oddly stiff, more formal than it had been a moment before. Seeing their confused expressions, she added, "it''s when those who¡­ ride together, all have permission¡­ no, the expectation that we''ll do it for each other if possible, assuming the paralysis has set in and the person needs to be abandoned." She held out a hand to Primrose, a sharp look in her eyes. "If you don''t want to, I respect that too. But I would like to request it for myself."


    Primrose shook Meera''s hand, finding it warm and callused. "Me as well." Kalle''s hand came into view, replacing hers in Meera¡¯s grip.


    "I''m relieved there''s such a pact," said Primrose as the three of them went back to their meals, or what was left of them. She then had a morbid realization. This system existed because those who traveled the Endless Sands found it necessary. That meant each person who had traveled the Endless Sands must have struggled with this very same thought and needed a fallback plan.


    The issue lingered in Primrose''s head.


    Could I kill myself if it came down to it?

 Ch 77: The Endless Sands

    All things have an end. Even the Eternal Night met the Sun.


    A life of wandering, without knowing if there''s a final destination waiting for me.


    Will I simply stop looking forward to my next discovery?


    Or will there be no more undiscovered paths to walk?


    I tell myself that the next journey will be to answer God Yven''s call.


    But why do I keep putting it off?


    Am I afraid of who I am without my calling,


    Or am I too attached to who I am now?


    Is it a paradox? I do not know.


    ¡ª Excerpt from Lost Winds, by an unnamed traveler. This is the only section written in the Old Tongue, roughly translated by Fallen Star Pavilion. Head Scholar Lauryn notes it follows archaic verse seen mostly in works older than the Empire of the Sun.


    <hr>


    The Endless Sands


    "What do you think they''re discussing?" Primrose murmured to Kalle, nodding at the sand sled ahead of them. Jyuni was handling the rudder while Molam conversed with Mursa Shang.


    Kalle shrugged, wiping sweat from his brow with a hand. "The heat?"


    Primrose almost laughed at that, but she understood Kalle''s sentiment. She imagined he was having a harder time than she was, having grown up in the Northern Plains. It was one thing to be told it would be hot, but now that she was experiencing it herself she thought the words did not do it justice.


    How could mere heat be this oppressive?


    The scorching Sun hung high in a cloudless sky, beating down upon the endless expanse of yellow sand in a relentless, searing glare. Each sled had two slender poles over the sides to support a makeshift roof of white cloth, but the heat clung to her skin regardless of the slight shade.


    Part of her wondered why Mursa Shang''s Domain did nothing to alleviate the effects of the baking atmosphere. Meera had explained something about "needing to blend in with the environment so as to not draw attention to themselves." While this had made sense at the time, Primrose¡¯s dry skin and burning cheeks made her wonder if the monsters of the Endless Sands were a preferable alternative. The caravan had only traveled for half a day and she already found the Endless Sands testing the limits of her tolerance. They were surrounded by an ocean of dunes as far as the eye could see, but Primrose didn''t find that name quite adequate for the sheer desolation. Unforgiving ¡ª mm, that would have been more apt. The Unforgiving Sands.


    Primrose loosened the cap on her waterskin, taking a small sip. Then another sip ¡ª much larger and with some guilt. She hoped she was pacing her water correctly; she didn''t want to ask Kalle for some of his on their first day.


    As she stowed the sloshing pouch away, she realized she had ceased to notice the constant, rhythmic sway of the camels'' gait. At least I¡¯ve acclimatized to something. The animals¡¯ cleft hooves sank softly into the golden grains of the Endless Sands with each measured step, pulling the weight of the sleds with stoic determination. Their long lashes batted lazily against the relentless glare of the Sun.


    The Sun. Primrose peeked up past the cloth cover, then glanced away from the blinding Sunlight. Summer''s Warmth, she thought dryly. Whoever called this "warm" must have grown up in the Spike Maelstrom. She suppressed the desire to voice her irritation; Meera had said talking would make one thirstier, and Primrose recognized when her discomfort was driving her decisions.


    Her training kicked in, and Primrose forced herself to take a deep, measured breath. Madam Ixia''s words lingered in her mind as she slowly exhaled: Control your emotions or be ruled by them.


    Primrose''s preferred method, then, was to make herself aware of her emotions and acknowledge they existed.


    Breathe in. The warm, dry air flowed through her nose and into her chest. Even her lungs protested the heat. Yes, the oppressive heat. It was there.


    She held the breath, feeling the warmth disperse into the rest of her body. If she could do nothing about the temperature, she would be better off accepting it. They were traveling into the Endless Sands and heading to Oasis; if she could not learn to bear the sweltering climate then it would negatively affect her throughout their stay. That would not do.


    Exhale and let go. As the stale air rushed out of her lungs, Primrose relaxed her shoulders and stretched her neck to the left and right. She let go of the emotion, for there was nothing that could be done about it right now. It didn''t make the feeling of suffocation go away ¡ª and she would definitely ask Kalle if he had any ideas for it tonight ¡ª but her little exercise helped.


    Kalle shifted his posture, causing his shadow to fall over Primrose. She looked up at him in gratitude, which turned to guilt when she noted the beads of sweat dotting his brow. He must be having an even worse experience, but he bore it without complaint. He was focused, with his hand on the rudder and a firm grip on the reins.


    It had taken some time for Kalle to become accustomed to guiding a sand sled, but he was now keeping pace with the Mursa''s lead. The sand sleds glided effortlessly over the dunes. They only required the occasional readjustment from the rudders, or flick of the reins to guide the camels. Crafted from sturdy wood and reinforced with leather bindings, the sleds skimmed across the sandy terrain with ease. Their wide, flat runners left behind a faint trail of smoothly pressed sand in their wake.


    Meera rode her camel at a distance, atop a separate crest. Like the other mursashu, Meera had changed into white, loose-fitting clothing that allowed for the rare breeze to pass through the fabric. A spear sat across her lap, the sharp tip gleaming in the Sun''s light. Like the other riders, she was constantly scanning away from the line of sleds, only turning on occasion to ensure she was keeping pace with their direction and speed.


    Primrose fanned herself, then sighed. They traveled in the day because that was when the monsters of the Sands were less likely to be active, but she wondered if it was truly worth it.


    She could only hope the heat didn''t kill her first. At least she had accepted it.


    For now.


    <hr>


    The things emerged at dusk.


    From Primrose''s high vantage point, she could focus her Sight to see past the far edges of the Mursa''s concentrated Domain. The scene unfolded slowly, starting with barely a ripple of disturbed sand. But as the Sun''s light faded over the horizon, the signs grew more pronounced.


    Primrose''s heartbeat jumped as she watched the things shake the sand from their bodies. As they rose, she noticed that they each stood on four thin, shadowy tendrils, which lifted the lumps of mass that made up their bodies.Their shapes reminded her of a spider, if one could grow to the height of HuaLang Chamber. The three of them moved with an eerie grace, their sinuous legs undulating like serpents in the shifting grains.


    She had heard of them before, but the sensation of seeing them in person sent an unnatural shiver down her spine. The Endless Sands had creatures, and then it had monsters. Things that lived during the Eternal Night, but were not themselves demons. They had escaped the Seal, yet were unable to tolerate the light of the Hero''s Sun.


    "Khaken," said Meera as she tossed a fresh waterskin to Primrose. "They won''t find us," she added, "no eyes, no ears, not as far as we can tell anyway. They use those tendrils to seek out the aura of living things. Our Mursa''s written his Domain to blend us perfectly into the Sands."


    "The Khaken are¡­ larger than I thought." Primrose slid down from the top of their sled, landing soundlessly on the sand. "I suppose that when the scrolls, tales, and artworks depict them, it''s hard to capture their size."


    "Those are a bit larger than usual, but everyone says that at first." Meera nodded understandingly. "It''s just difficult to imagine the monsters of the Eternal Night for those of you who''ve never left the Central Valley. Some would say that''s the Empire''s good deed."


    Primrose masked her look of disgust, responding in a polite tone. "They can say that. Not everyone needs to agree."


    Meera shrugged. "Look, I''m not an Empire apologist. But it''s a fact that the people of the Central Valley enjoy a life free of monsters because the Red Emperor eradicated the ones that managed to sneak in. Whether the Free Cities or the Empire, many generations have managed to live their lives without a single encounter for almost six hundred years. That''s something."


    "Because the Oasians, the Northern Tribes, and the Formosan Islanders keep the Central Valley protected." Kalle''s voice sailed over. Primrose looked down, surprised that he was listening while cooking their dinner for the night. He caught her surprised look, then added, "watching the stew boil doesn''t make me deaf. Also, the food is ready."


    "He''s right, you know," Primrose rounded on Meera as the two of them walked towards the boiling pot. "The fundamental issue hasn''t been fixed. Monsters still roam outside of the Central Valley, and the Empire has simply shifted the responsibility to others."


    "You won''t find me arguing that point because we''re in agreement, Primrose." Meera stabbed the butt of her spear into the sand, sitting down near Kalle and accepting a bowl of stew. "All I was saying was that the Central Valley''s people have lived a life free of monsters. I hope that doesn''t offend you," she said pointedly to Kalle. "I know your people are constantly fighting the monsters in the Northern Plain. Also, this smells wonderful, thank you for cooking."


    Primrose looked towards the Mursa''s campfire, the small light sitting a dune away. Molam hadn''t returned to them yet. She could only assume he was still speaking with Mursa Shang. While Meera had asked if they would prefer to share with the rest of the mursashu, Primrose and Kalle had politely chosen to build their own campfire, apologizing to Meera for keeping her away from her own people.


    And it was a divide. The mursashu were cordial enough, but Primrose didn''t need to See to notice the way they were careful with their words around her. The obvious difference in their body language between dealing with her and Meera made it clear that neither she nor Kalle were accepted. The two of them were barely more than just cargo; guests who had tagged along at their Mursa''s decision, ones who didn''t understand mursashu culture nor could contribute to the duties of a mursasho. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    "Primrose, my arm''s getting tired," Kalle spoke reproachfully, indicating the bowl of hot stew he held towards her.


    "Sorry. Thank you, Kalle. It smells wonderful." Primrose sat down with the other two, blowing lightly on her stew. Chunks of meat peeked through the surface, glistening inside the rich broth. The hints of green and orange indicated Kalle''s choice of vegetables. After a surreptitious check for poisons out of habit, she dug in with gusto.


    "You two are taking to this much better than I expected," Meera said conversationally, in between bites. "Especially considering it''s your first time in the Endless Sands."


    "Thanks. Still, I''m going to be working on something to help dissipate the heat," Kalle grumbled, poking at his dinner. "I just haven''t come up with the design yet. Roasting all day isn¡¯t exactly fun."


    "Kalle, you don¡¯t seem intrigued by the Khaken at all," observed Primrose.


    "We have them in the Northern Plains, too." Kalle chewed some meat before continuing. "Every boy participates in a monster hunt to earn his manhood, and the Khaken are usually the easiest. The trick to fighting them is to have five people, four capable of restraining each of the legs, and the fifth aiming straight for the body."


    "And if there''s only three of us?" Primrose pointed out.


    The Northerner shrugged, nonchalant. "You mask your aura or succumb."


    Primrose waited for more. When it became clear there was nothing else, she glanced at Meera, who was busy eating. "Is that how it is with all of the monsters?"


    "We are outside the Central Valley, Primrose," Meera replied. "I''ve heard you are quite a force to be reckoned with when you fight a human, but monsters are completely different. The Khaken, Gaochun, and even the Shaguai we call Sandwurms are just some of the monsters that weren''t affected by the Hero''s Seal. If you want to keep your humanity, you would do best to remember this one fact." The mursashu leaned closer, a glint in her eyes. "Outside of the Central Valley, you are the quarry. Act accordingly and always choose survival."


    The seriousness in which Meera cautioned her and the way Kalle nodded understandingly brought the idea crashing down. She hadn''t ever thought of what life was like outside of the Central Valley, or what it truly meant for the Empire of the Sun to have kept the Northern Tribes, the Oasians, and the Formosan Islanders guarding its borders. Meera understood because the mursashu traveled everywhere, and Kalle understood because it was simply the way of life for the Northern Tribes.


    Another thought leapt unbidden into Primrose''s mind. Had Lyka viewed life this way too? Did Lyka ever think she was prey, that Primrose was too relaxed with the way she lived?


    Kalle''s spoon tapped on her bowl, breaking Primrose''s thoughts. "Don''t get too lost in that thought," he wagged his spoon at her, "Meera is right and you shouldn''t forget her words, but the most important thing is to just have a healthy respect for the monsters of the Eternal Night."


    Primrose smiled at Kalle''s worried expression. "I''ll keep that in mind. Don''t worry, I will adjust quickly."


    "You''ll do just fine then," said Meera as Kalle settled back in his seat. "The Sands can be more predictable. Oasis, on the other hand, requires quite a bit of adjusting."


    "As this is our first time going to Oasis, can you share anything with us, Meera?" Primrose asked, chasing the lingering thoughts of Lyka out of her head. "You''re part of the mursasho that focuses on information gathering when the caravan stops, after all. Kalle and I will need some basic knowledge in order to help Molam in Oasis."


    Meera sprinkled some spices into her stew before answering. "I suppose the Mursa did speak to me about helping you. But that''s a broad request, ''share anything.'' Can you ask something specific?"


    Primrose paused, but Kalle asked first. "Do gold and silver really have no value in Oasis?"


    Meera chuckled, light-hearted yet restrained. "You''re asking about coins? Value is subjective. I wouldn''t say they have no value, but their representation of value is more affected by market forces than water in Oasis. That''s why Oasis uses water instead."


    "I''d like to hear more about that," Primrose chimed in. "Do they carry buckets of water around instead of a coin pouch?"


    "As fun as that would be to watch, no. Oasians use something called banknotes ¡ª stamped pieces of paper ¡ª to represent specific units of water. While every place does accept actual water too, they''re usually limited to how much they can store at any given moment."


    "Stamped pieces of paper?" echoed Primrose, confused.


    Meera dug into her clothes and pulled out a fistful of folded slips of paper, then handed one each over to Primrose and Kalle. Primrose reached for the banknote with curiosity, inspecting it intensely.


    "Don''t drop that into your stew," Meera cautioned. "That''s twenty cups of water. A day''s worth of wages in Oasis."


    "I''ll be careful," Primrose promised, tracing the intricate patterns on the paper with her finger. It almost looked like one of those bookmarks she''d seen. Part of it was written in the Old Tongue, and to her chagrin, a symbol of the Sun was in the center of the banknote. It wasn''t exactly like the Empire''s symbol, but she found it distasteful nonetheless. The ink glimmered faintly in her Sight.


    She noticed the bold number twenty amongst the patterns, and flipped it over to see that both sides of the paper were the same. "I suppose the runic ink is to prevent counterfeits?" she guessed out loud.


    "Correct," Meera nodded, pointing to the banknote with her spoon. "Tamper with that and the runes dissipate, making your banknote worthless. So you can''t overwrite it with a new number, and no one can make fakes without the specific ink used by the banks. That ink is only made when both WellWardyn and Fontayneer agree it''s time to create more."


    "WellWardyn? Fontayneer?" asked Kalle. Primrose shared the confusion, for she did not recognize the names.


    "Agh. Keep those names in mind." Meera handed her empty bowl to Kalle, indicating she would like seconds. "They''re the two banks of Oasis, and you can''t really do business in Oasis without dealing with them. Well, that''s not completely true," she amended herself. "There''s also Aquifyr, but they''re more of a credit union and not a bank."


    Primrose had little experience in these matters. "Is there a difference?"


    "I ¡ª hmm." Meera pondered the question for a moment, before accepting her second bowl. "I suppose for your purposes," she answered slowly, "the banks focus on profit while credit unions focus on service. I think Cholani or someone from their mursasho could give you a better explanation, but it''s not something I''ve ever really paid attention to."


    "Profit and service," Primrose repeated, raising an eyebrow. "I''d have thought those go hand-in-hand."


    Meera laughed at Primrose''s look. "Then you''ve never met an unscrupulous merchant. Any other questions?"


    Primrose felt the presence before she heard the sound of approaching footsteps trudging through the sand; Meera''s hand clenched her spear as Primrose twisted around, the hilt of a blade already grasped.


    An amused voice floated towards them. "I take it I''m not allowed here?"


    "Molam." Primrose sheathed her blade, standing up to greet him. "I thought you''d be eating with the Mursa."


    "He''s holding a meeting with the mursashi. I was invited to listen, but I wanted to check in on the two of you." Molam walked up, accepting a bowl of stew from Kalle. He sat down, nodding politely to Meera. "Thank you, Meera. For keeping Kalle and Primrose safe. This is their first time in the Endless Sands."


    Meera acknowledged Molam with a nod in return. "It''s nothing much. Your friends are taking it well for their first time. Much better than I expected, if I were to be honest."


    Primrose noticed Molam''s slight pause before he answered. "My friends are quite adaptable." Molam sniffed at the stew, then changed the subject, "This smells wonderful, Kalle. I assume you cooked?"


    "Why do you assume it''s Kalle?" Primrose poked his bowl with her spoon. "It could have been me or Meera."


    Molam spooned some stew into his mouth, chewed, then swallowed before answering. "Definitely Kalle. He thickens the stew before adding the meat to keep it tender. You prefer adding the meat from the start, which makes it more tough and chewy. You also add spices to your stew while Kalle keeps his purposefully bland so we can season it to our preferred tastes. I don''t know anything about Meera''s cooking style," he said almost apologetically to Meera while reaching for the salt and spices. "But I would love to try her stew sometime." A pause, then, "why are you all looking at me?"


    Primrose raised an eyebrow, but Kalle spoke first. "I didn''t know you paid so much attention to the differences between my cooking and Primrose''s."


    The campfire crackled loudly before Molam responded with a look of surprise. "What else am I supposed to notice when you two were kind enough to take turns cooking all the way here?"


    "I believe Kalle is surprised because you''re always focused on your notes during dinnertime." Primrose smiled at Molam, taking the salt pouch back from him. She glanced at her stew, then pinched some more salt into her bowl before restringing the pouch and tossing it back to Kalle. "At least, that''s my thought. It never seemed like you even looked at your food between bites."


    "But that''s just reading. We don''t eat with our eyes," Molam replied with a tone of confusion. "We chew with our mouths. It''s not like I''m looking at the meat to see if it''s tender."


    Meera laughed out loud at the look on Primrose''s face and Kalle''s dumbfounded expression, a far more hearty laugh than before.


    Primrose recovered first. "So then. Have you gained insight into what Mursa Allyce''s greatest desire is?"


    Molam''s face lit up briefly, then he seemed to rein in whatever he was about to say. "Somewhat. I''ve been learning about her predecessor, Mursa Synbad."


    Kalle belched. "Sorry, not on purpose," he apologized to Primrose''s glare, then he asked Molam, "how will learning about Mursa Synbad tell you anything? I thought this was Mursa Allyce you''re trying to understand?"


    "I am also curious." Meera leaned in, pouring some water into her empty bowl and swirling it around. After several moments, she brought it to her mouth and drank the mixture, making a light face at the blander taste. The dishes needed to be cleaned, but the water could not go to waste.


    The answer didn''t come until Molam finished two spoonfuls of stew. "I''ve learned all I can about Mursa Allyce from the mursashu. While that''s given me some thoughts about who she is ¡ª and therefore what she might want ¡ª there''s still several answers to choose from. Learning about Mursa Synbad might tell me much about the person who would choose Mursa Allyce as his successor. I''m hoping to understand what he thought was most important, because I''m certain he saw that in her too."


    "That¡­ oddly makes sense. I think," Meera began, then paused. After a moment, she continued, "I think it''s worth pursuing since you''ve never met her."


    Primrose saw it in Meera''s pause, but Molam spoke up first. "Meera," he said in a relaxing tone, "your Mursa''s actions denote a belief that I''ll be in the unfortunate position of needing to wrangle together all three Mursa once we reach Oasis. I appreciate all the help your caravan can provide; and I am sure you''ll come to understand I am not the forgetful type."


    Meera''s face stiffened. Primrose winced.


    "Mursa Shang might enjoy dancing with you," Meera told Molam coolly, "but I don''t appreciate needing to think between the lines or any of that nonsense. There''s a reason I chose a mursasho that is more straightforward. Now, I''d appreciate being spoken to with words meaning directly what you want so I''m not eternally wondering if you''re trying to pull a scam on me." She leaned forward at Molam. "Perhaps you''d like to try again by saying what''s on your mind."


    Kalle laughed ¡ª belched then apologized ¡ª and immediately resumed laughing, slapping his knee. "You should look at your face, Molam," the Northerner choked out between sprees of laughter. Even Primrose brought a hand to her mouth, hiding her grin. "Did you see that, Primrose? Molam looked like he was choking on a fishbone!"


    Molam made a face at the two of them, then nodded to Meera. She gave him a look of I''m waiting, to which Molam grinned. "I''m sorry for holding you at arm''s length," he apologized to the mursashu rider. "And I do hope you''ll share what you know with me."


    "Lower your expectations," she warned. "I only ever saw both Mursa Shang and Mursa Allyce from afar."


    "I think I''m close, I just need opinions that aren''t my own," Molam explained, setting down his empty bowl. "It was wonderful, Kalle," he said, then turned back to Meera and Primrose. "I''d show you my notes, but I''ll just summarize what I''ve learned so I don¡¯t waste your time. Mursa Synbad chose Mursa Allyce because¡­"


    The flames crackled as Kalle cleared out the cooking ware, the three of them listening to Molam as he explained who he believed Mursa Allyce to be.

 Ch 78: A City Lost

    I traded grains of sand for water unbound,


    Only to find it a salty brew.


    A dream of land tragically run aground,


    From treachery by my own crew.


    Cast away to drift the world around,


    The centuries passed by in a blur.


    But time charges interest in change compound,


    I returned to an abandoned Mur.


    ¡ª Lost Winds, by an unnamed traveler


    <hr>


    The Lost City


    On the tenth day, Mursa Shang''s light whistle pierced the quiet atmosphere. It accompanied a subtle shift in his Domain ¡ª the faint shimmer of gold winked into existence against the darkening sky, reminiscent of the stars.


    Meera rode up to them, her expression a mask of conflicting emotions. Somberness shadowed her usually sharp gaze; a wistful yearning tugged at the corners of her lips. The look was mirrored among all of the other mursashu, with varying degrees of intensity.


    "We''re home," Meera explained in a soft voice, in answer to Primrose¡¯s questioning look. It was a stark contrast to her usual vibrancy. "Just over that dune."


    The camels snorted, seemingly sensing the shift in the atmosphere, and pulled their sleds with renewed purpose. The rhythmic crunch of their steps echoed across the vast expanse of the Endless Sands as they pulled their sled over the giant dune. Kalle let out a gasp, and Primrose barely covered her own sharp intake of breath.


    Sandstone walls loomed just ahead, silhouetted against the fiery orange glow of the setting Sun. Once magnificent, they were now etched with weathered scars from centuries of neglect. The Lost City''s sheer size dwarfed all the other adjectives Primrose wanted to associate with the place. Even from this distance, she saw crumbling domes and towering spires piercing the cloudless sky, their once vibrant colors faded by the Sun. Yet despite the ravages of time, the ancient City''s grandeur still remained, a testament to what had once been.


    Mur. The home of the mursashu.


    A sense of foreboding brought Primrose back from her awe, and she pulled aura into her eyes. Nearby, Kalle was peering through his small glass lens as well.


    "By the Gods," he muttered. "You See that?"


    Primrose nodded. A wispy aura suffused everything outside the Mursa''s Domain in an eerie black shadow. The miasma was far reaching, almost like a Domain, but it was there that the similarities ended. She almost wondered if it was the same color as the Prince''s, but it was a shade lighter than the power she had seen the OutCast call upon while trapped. She looked towards Meera. "I assume what I''m Seeing is¡­?"


    Meera nodded bitterly. "The reason we can''t live in Mur for more than a few nights. DuskWing''s Curse. Just the lingering remnants of his aura, but it¡¯s more than enough to be deadly." She fell silent, guiding her camel alongside them as the group slid down the dune. Kalle''s guiding hand maneuvered the paddle, digging it in sideways to ensure the sled didn''t crash into their camels. "I''ve heard it''s a daunting sight to those who can See," Meera added when they were halfway down the dune. "Just remember to stay within the Mursa''s Domain when we take refuge there for the night."


    Primrose found herself licking at her lips. The desert wind whipping through her unbound locks only exacerbated the sudden dryness in her mouth. Though she had relaxed her Sight, the image of the auric coils curling throughout the Lost City remained vividly in her mind.


    An unsettling thought snaked in. For some reason, she couldn''t help but associate it with the seeking tendrils of the Khaken prowling about the Sands for the past few days. She''d seen what happened when one of the untethered camels had run off from its handler, mistakenly exiting the Mursa''s Domain. For some reason, she''d expect the Khaken to make sounds, but they didn''t. There was no roar, no menacing growl. Perhaps that''s why the camel didn''t run. It remained blissfully unaware of the danger until the sinuous leg erupted from below, piercing through the camel''s body with horrifying ease, and by then, no amount of distressed bleating could save it. The Khaken silently lifted the camel up to its main body and all Primrose remembered hearing was the sound of harrowed braying ¡ª an agonizing pitch ¡ª until the calls were no more.


    But why did she remember that? Primrose shuddered. Something about those aura tendrils in Mur lingered in her mind. Perhaps it was the way they twisted as they reached up to the skies. Almost like they were also searching for¡­


    "Look sharp!" Meera shouted, breaking Primrose''s thoughts. "Gate ahead! Kalle, you and Primrose will wait outside with the others while I join my mursasho to scout out the inner City with the Mursa. Only enter once we''ve confirmed the area is safe."


    "''Safe'' is the last word I''d use for Mur," Primrose grumbled, looking up at the walls. Perhaps it was because they were close enough to now see their height, or maybe it was the increasing darkness as they lost the Sun''s light; the City seemed more foreboding now that she knew what permeated it. Primrose spied Molam and Mursa Shang heading towards the large metal gates, each of them sitting astride a camel.


    "Meera," she said urgently, catching the mursashu rider''s attention as she guided her camel towards where the other riders were. "Is it safe for Molam to enter Mur right now?"


    "Hm?" Meera seemed confused, then frowned. It seemed she also saw Molam among the gathered riders heading into the City. Primrose kept an eye on them. Molam was in deep conversation with Mursa Shang, but she had no idea what they were discussing. The Mursa shook his head, to which Molam raised a hand with three raised fingers at the Mursa. Again, the Mursa shook his head, returning a hand of his own with just one raised finger. Molam gripped his reins and guided his camel past the Mursa''s silent smile, riding up to a surprised Jyuni instead.


    "What do you think that was about?" asked Kalle uneasily.


    Meera laughed. "I daresay our Mursa got a hand over Molam, even if it was just by whatever they were negotiating. Don''t worry, Primrose," Meera winked at her, "that might not have ended well but I''m sure Molam is safest with our Mursa. Most of the riders will be entering and we''re the best fighters of the group."


    "I just don''t think Molam should be entering with the first group," Primrose replied cordially. "Perhaps he should wait outside here with us."


    "That would have been the riders'' recommendation as well," Meera agreed, then followed up with a shrug. "But if the Mursa has invited him to come with us, I imagine it''s quite important. Stay put, understood?" The rider waved back at them, nudging her camel towards the vanguard.


    Primrose caught a look from Kalle, nodding in return. They settled in, untethering their two camels and giving them some dethorned cacti to chew on. No doubt they were both thinking of the same thing: Molam had agreed to help purify Mur, but would the mursashu continue to help them if Mursa Shang pressured Molam into doing it now?


    Could Molam even do it now?


    "You better not be worrying if Molam would be pressured into giving away his value early," Kalle struck up conversationally. "I''ve had to negotiate with him before over a flameproof cloak. I don''t know how but I almost gave it to him for free."


    Primrose raised her eyebrow at Kalle, then lied, "I wasn''t worrying about that. Just wondering whether Molam is safe in there. Even if the mursashu don''t mean to harm him, you felt the lingering aura, right? How can we be sure he''s safe within those walls?"


    The alchemist looked at her incredulously, then laughed. "Well, the mursashu can make the journey to Oasis because they can rest at Mur. I would guess if that aura has proven to be immediately dangerous they wouldn''t be making this a designated stop."


    Primrose made to respond, then stopped. What Kalle said made sense. "But," she hesitated, "something about Mur feels off. I don''t like it."


    "You don''t have to like it. It''s just a reasonably safe rest stop in the Sands, and these walls look quite sturdy." Kalle patted his camel, then came to inspect Primrose''s. "I suppose your perspective does make sense too, but only because this is your first time out of the Central Valley. You''ve only seen the Khaken so far, right? If the Gaochun or these Sandwurms appear, you''ll want as many walls and floors between you and them as possible. Not this boundless expanse where you can be chased down by something that used to be a demon''s pet."


    <hr>


    The Gates of Mur


    Molam peered upwards. Centuries of sand and wind had weathered away what must have once been an intricate mosaic on the metallic gates towering above him. What remained of the design ¡ª at least, the bits he could see ¡ª seemed to be large concentric circles with equally sizable lines running downwards. Possibly alchemy runes, but Molam couldn''t be sure.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    "I heard you''d been here before, when you traveled with Mursa Khan," Jyuni said conversationally. Molam noted she didn''t ask him anything about his last interaction with her Mursa. Perhaps it was out of respect for her Mursa, or out of caution after her last attempt to negotiate with him. "Did you participate when they cleared Mur?"


    Molam shook his head. "I only know it''s to clear Mur of any monsters that may have possibly snuck into the City, but I don''t know what it entails."


    "It''s a standard search and sweep," explained Jyuni. Her camel reared its head, watching curiously as a group of mursashu men walked forward to the gates to attach a series of ropes to a metal ring hanging from the giant gate. A nod from Mursa Shang signaled for them to proceed. One of the riders barked a command, causing the camels tied to the gate to begin pulling hard, then the rest of the men stuck their arms into loops in the rope and joined in pulling.


    "With how heavy that is, do we really expect monsters to be in the City?" Molam was curious. "I thought Mur was built on bedrock and so Sandwurms can''t tunnel in."


    Jyuni shrugged, patting her camel''s neck. "Some fly. The Khaken can easily scale the walls if they wanted to. But a caravan found Sandwurms inside the City once, a long time ago, and we think it was because a previous caravan didn''t secure the gate correctly."


    The large gate shifted ajar. Molam had expected a rusty creak, but it pulled forward silently. Mursa Shang rode to the opening, a finger drawing a series of golden runes in the air. Several riders, Meera included, flanked him on the sides, their spears held at the ready.


    With a pushing gesture from the Mursa, the golden runes flew forward past the opening and into the Lost City.


    "I suppose DuskWing''s Curse blocks even the mursashu from inspecting Mur with a Domain?" Molam surmised as they watched Mursa Shang close his eyes.


    "Yes. You tried, I take it?" Jyuni confirmed, but didn''t wait for him to reply. "Mursa Shang describes it as trying to peek into a black abyss. It''s almost as though all of Mur falls under a dead dragon''s Domain."


    "Clear!" declared the Mursa. The gate was pulled wider, enough for two sleds to enter at a time. Several riders rode in immediately, their torches held high.


    "You are cordially invited to our ancient home," said Jyuni, holding her hand out in a gesture of welcome. "Shall we?"


    Something about the way she kept her eyes on him told Molam that he did not want to stay in her line of sight. I''m only traveling with them, he reminded himself. I¡¯m not one of them. "After you," Molam replied.


    Jyuni accepted without a fuss. She nudged her camel forward, the two of them following the other riders past the gates of Mur. Mursa Shang was already nowhere to be seen, presumably having ridden ahead with some of the riders.


    Crossing the threshold of the gate sent a shiver down Molam''s spine. The sensation reminded him of entering the Slumbering Forest. A stifling silence pressed down upon his ears and somehow only amplified the sound of his breathing. His camel shook its head and snorted, telling Molam he wasn''t the only one affected by ¡­ whatever it was.


    Calm down, he chided himself. You''ve been here before.


    "Welcome to Mur," Jyuni said, her dampened voice sounding as though she were much further away than she looked. "Or to be more exact, welcome back."


    Molam looked around, getting his bearings. The entranceway was just as he remembered it: a giant open space where there must have once been a bustling marketplace or a general area where the people of Mur kept their animals. Crumbling buildings loomed out of the gloom, their facades scraped as bare as the gate and scarcely illuminated by the burning torches stuck into the sconces. More riders were continuing down the giant, empty street, lighting torches and checking each of the buildings.


    A golden glimmer winked just down the street. Molam suspected it was Mursa Shang and his runes. His camel snorted, shuffling along the dusty ground with careful steps. Molam shared its trepidation.


    "It''s surprising that your people have such fond thoughts of this place," Molam muttered back at Jyuni. "I certainly didn''t."


    She gave him a cryptic smile. "You wouldn¡¯t understand, as you don''t have mursashu blood running through you. And still, you don''t need to love the place in order to appreciate its importance as a temporary stop. Having access to Mur''s water source is the entire reason my people can make it to Oasis."


    A rider approached them, his blazing torch lighting his way. "Molam, yes?" the rider asked. When Molam nodded, the rider continued, "The Mursa would like you to accompany him to the City''s center. If you just follow his runic markings down this street, you''ll find him."


    Molam knew what the Mursa wanted, but Jyuni didn''t give him a chance to defer. "A personal tour of the City from our Mursa is a rare occasion," she said. "Don''t mind me; I''ll be overseeing the rest of the caravan''s preparation for the evening."


    Sleds were already coming through the opened gate. The mursashu''s quick, assured movements seemed well rehearsed, with the incoming sleds making sure to move further into the entryway to clear up space for the ones after them. Molam spied Kalle and Primrose waving towards him from their place in the third row.


    "They''ll be here when you come back," Jyuni promised him. "You should get going. Our Mursa does not like to be kept waiting."


    Molam treated Jyuni to his flattest stare as he rode past her. "Take care to not sound like you''re threatening me. I tend to remember things like that."


    Petty of him, perhaps; Molam knew there was no chance Jyuni was actually threatening him with Kalle or Primrose''s wellbeing. But if she was going to make him uncomfortable at her Mursa''s behest, then he could make her overthink her interactions with him. He still didn''t know much about her, but it couldn''t hurt to establish himself more firmly in her thoughts as someone she couldn''t intimidate. She would be Mursa one day, after all.


    <hr>


    Inner Plaza of Mur


    Primrose looked up as Meera returned to her and Kalle.


    "The riders have confirmed the City is empty of monsters," said the mursashu. "Which leaves a decision for you to make before we finish unpacking."


    "And that would be¡­?" Primrose asked, instantly wary. She stood up in a smooth natural movement designed to hide the way she anchored her body''s weight on her back foot, allowing the natural sway of her arms to sneak a hand behind her back.


    "Do you want to pitch a tent or sleep in one of the buildings?" asked Meera.


    Kalle took a hurried step between Primrose and Meera. "You shouldn''t tease Primrose like that," said the alchemist, chuckling nervously at the look on Primrose''s face. "We''re already unused to traveling in the Endless Sands. Coupled with spending the past few days watching those monsters roam just outside the Mursa''s Domain, Primrose and I are quite tense when it comes to the unexpected."


    Meera looked from Kalle to Primrose, then frowned. "Sorry," she apologized. "It''s just something we always tease people with if we bring them here. The children ¡ª" she pointed to the side, where several caretakers were exploring the ruined buildings with a group of children, "are always curious about the buildings, and we offer people the choice to stay in them."


    "Is it actually a good idea to stay in the buildings?" Primrose asked, relaxing her stance.


    "No, Gods no," Meera laughed, "At least, I wouldn''t do it. You might miss a roof over your head, but these things haven''t been maintained in over four centuries. It''s not worth the risk of a collapse."


    "We''ll set up the tents as usual then," Primrose smiled warmly. "Nothing''s changed."


    Meera laughed. "All right. I''ll be back to help soon; I just need to help guide the camels to the water fountain later."


    The rider walked off, her lit torch the only indication of where she was going. Primrose tugged on Kalle''s shirt. "No."


    "What do you mean, no?" the alchemist asked innocently.


    "Help me get the tent up and the stew going before you go sneaking a peek at ancient architecture," Primrose demanded sternly. "There will be time for that while the food cooks."


    "Wouldn''t it be more efficient to split the work between the two of us?"


    Primrose smiled sweetly. "That would be. If you do it fast, you might even have time to go explore while the stew is cooking."


    The Northerner seemed almost reluctant, but acquiesced. "Ah, fine," he grumbled. "But you''ll let me have my tools."


    Resisting the urge to flick his ear, Primrose instead tried reason. "You won''t be able to drive the sled correctly tomorrow if you spend all night trying to see if you can fix a rundown building."


    "But fixing something is the best way to get to know it," Kalle complained, but didn''t press the issue.


    Seeing Kalle''s crestfallen face, Primrose reminded him gently. "We aren''t here to play," She lowered her voice, "we aren''t surrounded by friends, either."


    "Yes, I know." Kalle knelt to begin unpacking their necessities from the sled. "I know," he repeated to himself, almost half-heartedly.


    Primrose knelt with him, pulling out the rolled up tent and the strings they would use to set it up. She heard the note of loneliness in Kalle''s voice; he wasn''t thinking of just the mursashu when he repeated himself. He was thinking of what lay ahead in Oasis: the Oasians themselves. People who had once hunted Northerners to keep as slaves.


    Lyka had been polite around Kalle and Shurra, but how much of that was truly what Lyka thought on the inside? Martyker¡­ she hadn''t known him long enough, but he had seemingly treated Shurra the same way he had treated anyone else. But Oasians and Northerners did not get along. Meera had made it clear she disapproved of Molam''s decision, and Primrose couldn''t blame her. Primrose remembered arguing with Molam over Kalle''s inclusion as well, only for Molam to ask her if she would have him bring Nettie as their alchemist instead.


    She finished setting up the tent, then walked over as Kalle was lighting the campfire by striking a black rock ¡ª he called it flint ¡ª against a metal rod. Sparks flew onto a pile of black flame powder, which ignited immediately into a hearty flame. The pot of stew hung over it, weighed down by its contents.


    Laying a gentle hand on his shoulder, Primrose spoke, "Molam and I will protect you in Oasis. The mursashu too. I''m sure Molam didn''t bring us here so we would have a hard time."


    "Yes. That''s true." Kalle gave her a small grin. He had grown a thick stubble during their journey through the Endless Sands as a result of choosing to save water. Primrose thought it suited him, or perhaps at the very least, made it so that his scar wasn''t the only prominent feature on his face. "I trust Molam. I chose to come here, after all."


    "You have quite the way of showing it," she raised an eyebrow at him. "I saw you peel garlic for the stew, you know. Molam isn''t fond of garlic."


    Kalle stuck out the tip of his tongue. "You should pay attention to Molam''s face whenever he tastes garlic in the stew. You know how he can focus on reading without missing out on what he''s eating? It''s hilarious because I think even though he hates garlic, he just stomachs it so he doesn¡¯t have to stop reading. The top half of his face doesn¡¯t react at all, he¡¯s so seriously focused on his notes, while on the bottom half, his mouth is showing disgust at the taste."


    Primrose laughed, trying to picture it. "Put double the amount in. I''ll pay attention tonight," she said, intrigued by the mental image. "He''s normally so untalkative during dinnertime I only ever focus on the conversation we''re having."


    "You''ll have to peel it yourself if you want to mess with him like that. Now, while the stew is cooking¡­" Kalle held out his hands expectantly.


    After a moment of consideration, Primrose relented. "Stay in line of sight," she warned him while depositing his favorite tools into his hands. She then pointed at the building closest to them. "And only that one."


    "Yes, yes," the alchemist replied eagerly. He lit a torch in the campfire, holding it above his head. "I''ll be back before Molam returns, don''t worry."

 Ch 79: Value of Memories

    You ask me to address the mursashu monopoly over the trade route to Oasis, but what would you have me do?


    Do you want to compete? I am quite certain you already know: all non-mursashu attempts for a profitable venture to Oasis have resulted in failure. The arithmetic involved comes down to the nigh-impossible bottleneck of traveling through the Sands: until a merchant group can somehow either also gain access to Mur or establish a new stopping point in the Endless Sands for refilling water, it does not seem possible.


    Do you want to sabotage? And then what? The Free Cities and the Empire of the Sun will not stand idly by if the flow of jade into the Central Valley stops. We know we cannot hide anything from the Empire. Can any of you shoulder the responsibility if a Titled One from the Empire comes asking questions?


    Would you attempt to bind them with regulation and tariffs? Enforced how? What City would be willing to risk disrupting their trade with the mursashu when the rich are dependent upon them for jade?


    My sincere recommendation is to accept their control over the import of jade and focus your efforts elsewhere.


    ¡ª Excerpt from a note addressing a merchant group''s petition, signed by the Trademaster of Klagynah.


    <hr>


    Path to Mur''s Center


    The path down the street was longer than Molam expected. Part of him wondered if it was due to unfamiliarity, having only stayed with the caravan before when traveling with Mursa Khan. The direction and destination was clear: the golden runes floated down in the distance, but for some reason didn''t become bigger as Molam rode forward. An unbidden thought leapt into his head ¨C was he actually moving?


    Soon, Molam found himself paying attention to the individual buildings as he passed them by. This building had a collapsed arch over its doorway. Another building sagged under the weight of its floors, the front wall all but disintegrated. His camel''s trots echoed hollowly in the dead silence of the abandoned City, and Molam only had his muted breathing to accompany his thoughts. He nudged the camel forward, patting its neck. "It''s just empty buildings," he said, if only to hear his own voice.


    Figures emerged from the darkness, and Molam sighed in relief. Those torches were held by two riders instead of buildings. The wide street had ended in a gigantic plaza ¡ª also empty. The statues of the seven Gods stood atop a colossal fountain standing in the middle of the plaza. Unlike the rest of the City, the statues showed no signs of wear or tear. The closest one, God Gered, stared down the street and seemed to be carved with a smile. Molam found it to be more akin to a leer, wondering if he was being affected by the abandoned City''s gloom.


    "Ah, Molam. Glad to see you can follow a straight line." Mursa Shang''s voice echoed towards him. The Mursa stood in front of the fountain, beckoning with a lazy hand. Molam squinted past the Mursa to see the golden runes floating over the middle of the fountain. They spelled out the word for tranquility in the Old Tongue. "I was beginning to worry you had gotten lost."


    "I was only taking my time admiring your ancestral home," Molam replied. The two riders shifted their camels to the side so Molam could approach. "I take it you want me to have a look at the Curse''s source."


    The Mursa gave him an appraising look. "Did Mursa Khan tell you about that too?"


    "No," Molam answered honestly in front of the Mursa''s Sight. After a moment of calculation, he added, "I just know what a certain dragon is keeping here."


    Mursa Shang''s inspecting gaze became sharper. "And you know this¡­ how?"


    "I could reveal my source, but that would be too high a price to stomach," Molam answered cheekily. Noticing the Mursa''s continued use of the Sight, he also said, "But don''t worry. It''s not from a mursashu." That should alarm you even more. Keep on prodding, he thought. I want to know how much this information is worth to you.


    But Mursa Shang did not. After a moment of silence, the Mursa seemed to remember they were here for something specific. "We''ll need to go on foot from here," said the Mursa as he slid down from his camel, handing the reins to a rider. "The camels won''t approach it."


    He''s not willing to play, thought Molam in disappointment. But he could respect that; it''s what kept conversation and negotiation interesting with people like Mursa Shang and Madam Scarlette. He also slid down his camel, landing on the dusty ground with a thump. Patting the animal with gratitude, he put the reins in a rider''s outstretched hands, then walked towards Mursa Shang.


    The Mursa was drawing another rune in the air ¡ª Purify. He flicked it towards the fountain, where it took on a blackened hue. "Make sure the animals don''t drink the water until it''s completely purified," he instructed the riders. "And tell Tabytha to only fill up our water containers when the rune is the same color as the other one. Mursa has spoken."


    "Yes, Mursa!" answered the two riders in unison.


    "Good. Now, come with me." Mursa Shang pointed to the other side of the fountain, indicating Molam should follow him. They each took a lit torch and walked around the fountain, Molam doing his best to not look at each of the statues.


    Goddess Sholt and God Ttyulong were both depicted with passive disinterest, but God Epidr''s eyes had been carved to look as though they followed the onlooker. The other Gods ¡ª Goddess Ustl, Goddess Thraw, and God Yven were facing the other way. God Gered''s statue seemed to ponder the fountain itself.


    Upon clearing the fountain, they continued walking down the plaza. The street was wider now, and Mursa Shang walked ahead of Molam in silence. Eventually, the Mursa spoke up first. "How do you know what''s being kept here?"


    His curiosity must be eating away at him, thought Molam. Mursa Shang wasn''t a fool; a direct question like that could do nothing to hide his intent. "I don''t think it concerns you," Molam deflected. "I already confirmed that it wasn''t told to me by one of your own."


    "I''m not interested in being led along." The Mursa''s tone became hard. He turned around, looking down his nose at Molam. "How do you know? Only a Mursa or their chosen successor would know what lies at the heart of Mur. Mursa Khan, for all his faults, wouldn''t have said anything to you. And you''ve never met Mursa Allyce."


    "I could tell you if you meet my request from earlier." Molam dangled three fingers in front of the Mursa. "Primrose, Kalle, and Shurra. All three of them will be treated as friends of the mursashu even if I should die."


    "My answer is still no. Your life has value, at least until you help us cleanse Mur." Mursa Shang considered Molam, then added, "The best I can do is accept them into my caravan should they want to join, and I assure they would be given considerable treatment given their ¡ª"


    "Don''t you sell me that as anything similar to what I wanted," Molam cut him off. He opened his mouth to say something rude, then checked himself and lowered his tone. "That''s just using them to further your own ends."


    "I don''t see how that''s any different from what you''re currently doing," the Mursa answered mildly. "Did Primrose volunteer to come to the Endless Sands? Of course not. And let me guess ¡ª you forced Kalle to come, didn''t you? You don''t strike me as stupid, but you brought a Northerner here despite knowing how Oasis will see him." The Mursa leaned forward, leering at Molam. "Perhaps you should be honest with yourself instead of this cheap attempt to convince yourself you''re looking after them. Did you think you were better than me? At least I don''t pretend to be their friend. I''m far more honest than you, now that I think about it."


    That''s not true. Molam balled up a fist. He''s trying to throw me off with something that doesn''t matter, he reminded himself, tamping down his boiling emotions. It''s not true at all. He put on an indifferent tone. "It seems you still harbor a grudge over me asking you for three seats. Are you still trying to separate me from those I can trust?"


    Mursa Shang didn''t respond immediately. Then he closed his eyes, turned away from Molam and continued walking down the street. "To think the first time I''d catch you in a lie it would be something as disappointing as this. Those two trust you enough to risk their lives coming all this way and you can''t even give them your trust."


    Something bristled within Molam. Words, colored more by emotion than thought, almost spewed out of his mouth. He breathed deeply, taking in the dusty dryness of an abandoned City. Don''t react, he reminded himself with his mentor''s words. The fool reacts, and in doing so becomes predictable. Do not act the fool. Think through what you should say, or whether you should respond at all. Save your strength for only that which matters.


    On the second breath, he followed Mursa Shang. Something about the man''s gait seemed different ¡ª more measured, controlled. The man was waiting for Molam to catch up. Molam smiled grimly. No, more than that. He''s waiting for me to say something.


    But what to say, if anything at all? To address the Mursa''s erroneous assumptions? To bring the topic back earlier? No, that wouldn''t do: the Mursa hadn''t taken the bait on how Molam knew what was being kept in the heart of Mur.


    Silence then. Let the Mursa believe what he wanted. Molam didn''t need to dignify it with a response. Yes, he almost nodded to himself. I''ve already given Kalle a chance to leave us in Klagynah. Primrose could have left anytime. I''m not forcing any of them to come with me. This is entirely their choice. Primrose and Kalle were here because they wanted to be here, and he was doing the basic decency of trying to ensure they had others to rely on if he should fall. That should be worth far more than his trust.


    The street ended into a smaller circular plaza. An ancient Mansion loomed out behind it, the tall spires all but crumbled and a large hole in the circular roof. But they weren''t here for the City Lord''s Mansion. Molam''s eyes were instantly drawn to what lay in the middle of the plaza.


    "It''s one thing to know of it, but it''s another to see it," he muttered, stepping up next to Mursa Shang. Molam peered around the plaza with his torch raised. "This must be the source of the Curse."


    The two of them stood in silence as they looked at the white bones laid out in a spiral shape, carefully assembled by whomever had brought them here. Molam knew without analyzing that the skeletal remains were almost complete, missing only the head. On the rare occasions IceMourne visited RainBringer, she spent the time lamenting her inability to find DuskWing''s skull despite so many years of searching.


    But even coiled up, Molam could appreciate the corpse''s size. It spoke to how large DuskWing, the previous dragon of Summer, had been when he lived.


    The Mursa''s arm barred Molam from getting closer. "Unless your Domain is different, you don''t want to get closer. The Curse is strongest around it."


    "Noted."


    "Can you cleanse it?" asked the Mursa.


    "I should be able to," Molam replied, wary. Is he trying to get me to do it now? "As I told you before we left, we''ll need a powerful spirit capable of cleansing this."


    "The one you think is somewhere in Oasis."


    "Yes," Molam confirmed. "Nothing can be done about this until we find it." And I''m not going to give you what you want until I''m done getting what I want.


    But the Mursa wasn''t done. "I brought you here hoping you could at least try. I understand you might be worried I won''t uphold my end of the deal if Mur is cleansed today, but the mursashu wouldn''t abandon the one who freed our home." When Mursa Shang turned to face him, Molam was surprised to see a wetness in the man''s eyes. "Please," the Mursa bowed his head. "I only ask that you try."


    Molam didn''t know what to say. Negotiation is finding out what they want and offering it to them on your terms. There was an opportunity here. Mursa Shang hadn''t taken the bait about how he came to know about IceMourne and DuskWing''s remains, but this he needed. No ¡ª wanted. Not even for Molam to produce a result.


    Just to try.


    And yet¡­ something about the earnest sincerity in the Mursa''s voice stayed Molam''s tongue. Molam''s instincts told him he could demand what he wanted earlier and possibly even get it. But was that how he wanted Mursa Shang to see it? That Molam forced him into a friendship with the others?


    "If it would put your mind at ease¡­ I can do something," Molam answered slowly. "But before that, I want you to bind yourself to never reveal to anyone else what I am about to show you here."


    Mursa Shang raised a finger, drawing a quick line of runes in the Old Tongue. "I bind myself to silence for any actions you take regarding cleansing Mur," the man promised. The line of runes curled into a tiny circle around the tip of his finger, which he pointed towards his heart. It sank there, a golden brand on his chest, before dissipating from sight.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    "You didn''t even hesitate," Molam admired begrudgingly. "Then I suppose it''s my turn."


    He reached into his arm guard to pull out an orange feather, revealing a bright glow that chased back the deepening darkness of the night.


    "Is that¡­?" asked Mursa Shang, but Molam gave him a look that made him fall into silence.


    "I won''t answer questions. You asked me to try and that''s all I''m going to do." Molam pulled out a dagger lent to him by Primrose, drawing the blade across his thumb. Stowing the blade away, Molam pressed the bloody thumb to the feather. "I hope you aren''t afraid of fire."


    Flames erupted all around them, a blazing inferno that lit up the night sky. Mursa Shang stumbled backwards, yelping in surprise. Upon seeing Molam''s relaxed state, the man collected himself and waited. "I''ll assume this is expected."


    Molam hadn''t been sure what to expect either, only knowing that this was what he was told to do. "Fiery One," he murmured under his breath, making sure Mursa Shang could not hear. The spirit wouldn''t appreciate him sharing its name.


    The flames coalesced at the name, twisting into the phoenix''s form. It flapped once, then soared through the air around the plaza, before coming down to land on Molam''s arm.


    I had in mind to ask you if this was worth a summon, but I see what you have here. The spirit''s voice filled his thoughts, and did not wait for him to reply. Alas, poor DuskWing! I named him friend, Molam. A dragon of infinite wit, of most excellent character. He was the oldest of his kind and bore the most undesired of the Gods'' gifts so his brethren could choose better. The living may call it the Plague, but us primordials know better: the goal of life is death.


    "I''m sure you have quite the history, but you can find the time to mourn later." Molam stroked the phoenix''s neck. Though it was a living blaze, the warm flames that made up its feathers only felt slightly warm to the touch. "My¡­ah, friend here," he indicated to an awestruck Mursa Shang, "was hoping to try and cleanse this City of DuskWing''s Plague."


    This is nothing like what his Domain was like in life, the phoenix replied. If it was, the two of you would already be dead. As for the lingering remnants of his regret¡­ I can try. You do understand this will require a payment?


    "I was hoping to negotiate with you on that. Can it be paid by someone else?" Molam nudged his head towards the Mursa.


    I am amenable to it. And who is this? I don''t believe you''ve announced my presence.


    Molam resisted the urge to give the phoenix a backhanded response. It''s important that the Mursa believes this is a greater spirit. "This is Mursa Shang. He asked me to try and cleanse, well, this." Molam gestured at the City around them, ignoring the Mursa''s speechless expression. "And Mursa Shang, this is a spirit. The greater spirit of fire, to be exact."


    Mursa Shang sank to his knees. "The First Flame," he murmured, bowing his head. "The one who lights the way."


    Oho, you could learn a thing or two from this one. The phoenix''s flame-feathers fluffed up in approval, surveying the kneeling Mursa. Now that is the correct way to speak to a regal one such as I.


    "Bah." Molam clicked his tongue, then grinned. He bowed, angling his body forward. "Like this?"


    The sudden movement made the phoenix squawk ungainly as it flapped a wing to stabilize itself on his shoulder.


    "Very regal," Molam observed innocently as he stood up from his bow.


    Very funny, the phoenix hopped onto his head. Did you want my help or not? Ask them if they''re willing to pay.


    "Oh. Right." Molam turned his attention back to the kneeling Mursa. "My spirit friend here says they''re willing to try getting rid of the Curse, but spirits require payment to do anything. In this case¡­ a cherished memory, proportional to the effort."


    Mursa Shang looked up, deep in thought. His swept-back black hair glistened in what meager light they had. "What does that mean?"


    Molam hesitated. How to explain this? "I can only say that¡­ It''s like forgetting something. But in this case, you don''t even know you''ve forgotten it. Because you''ll never remember it again, even if you see it again and it should seem familiar."


    And let him know I might fail. This is not a cleansing, but a burning. Different from cleansing itself. The phoenix stretched its neck. And, the memory will not be returned even if I fail.


    "The spirit also wants to clarify that cleansing isn''t something it does, but it will try to burn away the Curse. And if it fails, your memory won''t be returned," Molam spoke to the Mursa. "Will you do it?"


    "Can I choose the memory?"


    He can offer, but I decide if it will suffice.


    "You can offer, but the spirit decides if it''s enough to fulfill your request," Molam conveyed. He added, "It''s¡­ probably faster if you just let it ask you for a memory, then you decide if you''re willing to part with it. And, you can stand up now."


    Mursa Shang obliged, getting back to his feet. He bowed to the phoenix. "I''m afraid I don''t know what would suffice, great spirit. Please tell me what you want."


    The phoenix pointed its beak towards the mursashu ¡ª three glowing golden orbs seemed to fall out of his chest in the same manner as when a Priestess conducted funeral rites. A tilt of the phoenix''s neck and the three orbs came floating in front of it.


    It peered at an orb, then its next words were spoken to include the Mursa, who jumped in surprise at the sudden voice in his head.


    The day Mursa Gailscha chose you as her successor.


    "I ¡ª what?" Mursa Shang seemed alarmed before he collected himself. "No," he said hurriedly, "not that one."


    The orb floated away to be replaced by another in its place.


    The day your apprentice drank too much and called you father.


    Mursa Shang''s face blanched. "I didn''t know this would be such an invasion of privacy," he muttered, glancing furtively at Molam. Molam kept an impassive face, hoping it looked as though he heard nothing. Perhaps the Mursa would believe that Molam wasn''t privy to this conversation. "Not that one either."


    The final orb floated up, a golden glimmer in a sea of flame.


    Your last meeting with Flangel the Wise and his advice to you.


    "No."


    Molam raised an eyebrow. Even the Mursa seemed surprised at the forcefulness of his outburst.


    "Great spirit," he bowed his head, addressing the phoenix with a respectful tone again. "I cannot part with any of those memories. They¡­ make me who I am. I beg of you; can you please ask for something else?"


    These are the only memories commensurate with the task you request.


    Molam knew Mursa Shang would attempt to bargain before the man asked.


    "Would another spirit ask for something¡­ different?"


    The phoenix peered at the Mursa. Normally I would be insulted. But I have pressing matters to attend to on the other side of the world. Are you trying to waste my time?


    Mursa Shang flinched, bowing his head even lower. "I wouldn''t dare. I apologize, for you arrived at my request. But I¡­ cannot part with any of those memories."


    Molam poked the phoenix''s wing. "I guess that''s that. Overlook his transgression for me, will you? He''s an important part of my plans."


    After a moment, the phoenix shrugged. You knew he could not, it accused Molam in private. A flap of the wings sent the three glowing orbs back to the Mursa, who seemed relieved when they re-entered his body. No, more than that, it continued, pondering. You summoned me specifically because you wanted him to witness it, even though it means you cannot summon me for another moon. If there is a third intent here you may as well say it.


    "You could always stay," Molam proposed under his breath so Mursa Shang couldn''t hear. "I could use your help."


    No. I have finally found traces of the spirit I have been looking for, but the aura only shows where it has been, not where it has gone. Your lazy mentor has refused to leave their Library and the sleepy one shows no desire to interact with the world, leaving me to do this all by myself. If we are to reunite, the wandering one needs to be found.


    Molam sighed. He had expected such an answer, but it was a different feeling to be rejected outright. "I understand."


    Preening itself haughtily, the phoenix said, I know you must miss being in my glorious presence, but I make no apologies about denying it to you. The feather I left with you is still quite special so long as you avoid fighting a Titled One. As no request was fulfilled this time, I can return some aura to the feather, but the restriction remains lest the Gods decide I am flouting their Mandate. Anything else before I leave?


    "No, but maybe you can confirm to Mursa Shang that the spirit I''m looking for will better align with his needs," said Molam. "He might need some convincing."


    The phoenix glared towards Mursa Shang. If you want to cleanse this City, help Molam find the spirit he is looking for. Cleansing is within its nature. Then you can decide if you are more willing to pay what it asks of you. May you find warmth in life.


    Then it took flight, bursting into flames that dissipated into the night. A solitary flame-feather drifted down towards the feather in Molam''s hand, melding together.


    As Molam tucked the feather back into his arm guard, he felt the Mursa walk close. "I assume you remember that you can''t reveal anything, but you have my permission to confirm to the other two Mursa that you''ve personally witnessed me interact with a spirit," said Molam. Fiery One knew him too well now, but Molam didn''t mind. He could think of no realistic reason for it to ever betray him.


    "That I will. They would be relieved to know that you can deliver on that, at least." Mursa Shang seemed hesitant, but then asked, "If you don''t mind, I''m curious about what you said earlier. About the payment. You said it as though you''ve experienced what it''s like to give up a memory?"


    Molam shrugged. "I can''t remember what it was, nor that I ever had it. I only know that it must have existed because there''s some evidence, but the idea that it was part of my memories seems as foreign as if you were to tell me we met a long time ago." At least that''s how he understood it.


    "That''s hard to imagine," pondered Mursa Shang. "It somewhat makes me more relieved I didn''t agree."


    "That''s only because you still remember it now. When it''s gone, you won''t remember why you were so against it in the first place."


    "Well, that''s oddly¡­ true," the Mursa agreed. He turned to stare at the bones of DuskWing, a forlorn expression on his face. "I think," he said, "this cost should be collectively borne by the three Mursa, at the very least."


    Molam did not voice his immediate thoughts on that. "Shall we go back?" he asked Mursa Shang instead. "I''m hungry, and it''s been a long day."


    More importantly, he wanted to revisit why there was one marking on the list of names he kept among his notes. There was a circle around the name Jiovanny and his own handwriting: Don''t forget the sweets.


    He didn''t remember writing it, but now he suspected why.


    <hr>


    Mursa''s Tent


    Jyuni lifted the tent flap for her Mursa, stepping to the side as he walked in.


    "Did Molam fail?" she asked. Though her ability to sense aura wasn''t anywhere close to Cholani''s, she had sensed the burst of flame earlier. A torrential amount.


    And yet the sickening sensation of DuskWing''s Curse still permeated the City.


    Her Mursa set down his empty waterskin and strode towards the teapot, pouring himself a cup of tea.


    "Ah," Jyuni realized. "That tea is probably lukewarm by now. I''ll brew a new pot."


    "It''s fine." Mursa Shang waved her off, then downed a cup of tea before pouring himself another. "I''m just thirsty. I need to think."


    Three cups of tea later, the Mursa sat down. Jyuni brought him a bowl of stew, which the cooking mursasho had brought earlier. It was still warm.


    She sat down opposite her teacher, waiting patiently for him to organize his thoughts. Jyuni had learned a long time ago that Mursa Shang hated being disturbed while he had that far-off look in his eyes. But more importantly, for her talkative teacher to be pondering in silence was often a sign that he had learned something of grave importance. The last time he had worn that look, they had learned of Falysos City''s intention to improve their silverworks industry by starting a mine at the base of the Argentine Mountains.


    "I''m disappointed, relieved, and devastated at the same time," her Mursa finally said. He had yet to dig into his stew. "This has been quite an evening. Which piques your curiosity the most?"


    "Relieved is good, right? You better not be disappointed in me or the food." Jyuni pushed his spoon closer meaningfully. He often forgot to eat when thinking, and she¡¯d promised Taycho that his mursasho''s efforts wouldn''t be wasted. "Or should I ask for whatever has devastated you? Bad then good?"


    "Now that I think about it more, they''re linked. I''m relieved to tell you that Molam can certainly utilize spirits. I can''t elaborate on anything as I promised secrecy, but a critical part of what we need has been confirmed. And before you ask, no, we still need to find this spirit he spoke of before we can cleanse DuskWing''s Curse." He picked up the spoon, tapping it against his bowl. "Well, that''s somewhat of a lie. I''m devastated because I lacked the resolve to try. Then again, it''s never a good idea to pay for something that might not work out." Mursa Shang rolled his shoulders back, stretching his neck. "I wish I could tell you more, but we''ll see. I expect that I''ll need to make a similar decision again in the future when we return with the spirit we''re looking for."


    Jyuni waited for more, but her Mursa offered no more elaboration on the matter. "So¡­" she said conversationally, "Are you disappointed in yourself then?"


    "What? Oh, no. I''m devastated, and there''s certainly some disappointment, but that''s not who I''m really disappointed in. You see¡­ I''m disappointed in Molam. Bewildered, even." He paused, then added, "I caught him in a lie."


    Now this was curious to Jyuni. The sort of things people would lie about were often the most telling aspects of their character. Jyuni remembered spending much time with her Mursa going through conversations with Molam, looking for any weakness they could use. "What did he lie about?"


    "He¡­" Mursa Shang ran a hand through his hair, taking a deep sigh, "he doesn''t trust Kalle and Primrose."


    "What?" The idea seemed so foreign to Jyuni she couldn''t help her loud outburst. She lowered her voice, but so many thoughts were tumbling through her head. "That can''t be. He forced you to allow him to bring them."


    "To be exact, maybe he doesn''t fully trust Kalle and Primrose?" Mursa Shang clarified in a tone of uncertainty. "It''s confusing precisely because his actions would normally indicate a degree of trust. Or¡­ reliance." He shrugged, "Either that, or I saw wrong. There was only the barest hint that Molam was lying, and I was so surprised at the time I forgot to probe further." He finally spooned up his stew; Jyuni expected it was cold, but the Mursa didn''t seem to care. "Almost as though he''s trying to convince himself. But that doesn''t make sense either. He''s certainly going out of his way to keep them protected by asking me to declare them as friends of the mursashu."


    "Will you?" Jyuni asked.


    "Not without good cause," her teacher ate another spoonful of stew. He made a face. "Jyuni, this stew¡ª"


    "Will be finished by you or I''ll have Taycho turn you into stew next." Jyuni gave him her best smile. "More importantly, isn''t your next question usually something like¡­" she put on her best impression of his voice, "now Jyuni, remember what I always tell you: information is useless unless you think about how to best use it."


    "I do not sound like that," Mursa Shang complained.


    "When Zaem perfects that tool for recording voices I''ll give you the chance to hear yourself." Jyuni wagged her eyebrows at him.


    Mursa Shang ate several more bites under Jyuni''s watchful gaze, then sighed. "You''re right, however. We need to keep this close to our chest. I don''t know if it''s true that Molam is lying about his trust in Primrose and Kalle; we''ll need to verify it and any further implications. We have quite some time to observe them. And if it''s true¡­ I can think of how we can use it to pressure Molam some more. Or at the very least, separate him from Primrose and Kalle if we ever need to isolate him."


    He fell silent, then chuckled under his breath as he spooned some more food. "He doesn''t trust them. Amazing. I cannot imagine choosing to live life in such isolation."

 Ch 80: A Dark Horizon

    "Where can I find happiness?"


    I have been everywhere there is to be, so here''s my answer:


    If there is happiness to be found, it''s not elsewhere.


    Therefore, it can only be found in the one place you refuse to look.


    ¡ª Excerpt from Lost Winds, by an unnamed traveler.


    <hr>


    Mur, Open Square


    Primrose stepped out of her tent with Meera, running her hands through her bushy hair to get rid of the tangles that had formed in her sleep. To her surprise, Molam and Kalle were walking back towards their tents'' location in the light of the morning Sun.


    Seeing Molam''s vaguely annoyed expression and Kalle''s slightly satisfied smile, Primrose guessed, "I take it you woke up to find Kalle went to visit a ruined building?"


    "I worked on fixing two doors," Kalle replied proudly. "Quite an interesting challenge. The old City of Mur didn''t have an advanced concept of hinges yet! It required reconstructing what they realistically used."


    "But¡­why would you do that?" asked a confused Meera. Primrose found Meera to be a morning person, always alert and awake the moment she opened her eyes. She could appreciate a quality like that.


    "As I said, it was a challenge," answered Kalle. "I guess I wanted to see if I could." He turned to Molam, adding apologetically, "sorry you had to come get me."


    "What you do with your sleeping time is up to you so long as you can still contribute to the task at hand," Molam replied testily. "I was only worried you would be so engrossed with the rest of the building that you¡¯d forget we''re leaving soon."


    "Yes, yes," Kalle agreed. "You know, we could bring the chandelier with us to¡ª"


    "Kalle, Meera''s here to oversee us," Molam said in a teasing manner, but Primrose heard the hint of warning. "I don''t think we want to be robbing from the mursashu''s heritage while they''re kind enough to treat us as guests."


    Meera laughed, patting Kalle on the shoulder. "You''re always welcome to come back after we''ve cleansed Mur. I''m sure there will be much to fix then! But there''s work to do right now. Let''s get everything packed up so we can join the rest of the caravan."


    As they took down the tents and cleaned up their encampment, Primrose kept Molam visible in the corner of her eye, hoping to glean some insight into what he was thinking. He had come back from his meeting with the Mursa and refused to elaborate on anything, merely stating that the Mursa wanted him to take a look at DuskWing''s Curse. Primrose could understand that, even if Molam didn''t elaborate on the sudden spike in aura from their direction. Afterwards, he''d gone through his notes again, murmuring under his breath. Primrose only found it curious that he''d look through the list of names of the dead he kept with him, as she thought he had long since memorized it.


    But there was much to do. They packed the tents down, ensuring nothing could catch a loose flap and cause the sled to run askew. Meera retrieved their two camels. While Primrose wasn''t an expert on camel facial expressions, she guessed the animals were unimpressed to see them again.


    "Heads up!" Meera shouted at them as she slung three full waterskins towards their faces. Primrose snagged hers in midair, pulling an arm through the strap. Kalle blocked one with an arm and caught it after it bounced into the air. Molam attempted to catch it with the pot he held, where it bounced off the rim and fell to the ground.


    After he picked up his waterskin, he straightened to see Primrose''s eyes on him. "This pot is heavier than it looks, you know," he told her, putting the lid back onto it.


    "I didn''t say anything," she replied with a wry grin. "But try not to break that. I''m not excited by the idea of chewing on flatbread and jerky for dinner."


    "It could spare me from garlic for a bit." Molam winked back at her. "Yesterday''s amount of garlic must have been someone''s idea?"


    Kalle better not have¡­ Primrose thought while she feigned ignorance. "Was it? I was too busy setting up the tent. Kalle was in charge of the stew."


    "Hmm," he pondered, but did not pursue the subject. "I''ll be riding with our sled for the first time today."


    "Oh, finally done with the Mursa? I was beginning to think you forgot why you went."


    "You think I enjoy his method of storytelling?" he replied with a false sense of hurt. "I''ve heard all I need to hear about Mursa Allyce''s predecessor. I just need to think about whether it validates my working guesses to answer her question."


    Primrose raised an eyebrow as the two of them hooked the harness to their camels. "Is it that bad? His method of storytelling?"


    "Oh, don''t get me started." Molam grimaced as he stopped the camel from nibbling at his hair. "I hope that what the Mursa does is just an act to waste my time, or else I really feel for Jyuni. No sense of straightforward beginning, middle, and end. This one ¡ª he just tells it all with every single tangent and ''which reminds me of'' interruptions you can think of. How is he only shrewd when making negotiations? I don''t need him to be so forthcoming with information now; give that up when trying to take me for all I''m worth."


    Primrose sputtered with laughter at Molam''s unexpected rant. "I can see you two are getting along." She hid her grin behind her hand, watching Kalle take the reins from their camels and walk back towards the sled. "Perhaps enough to have found anything worth sharing with me and Kalle?"


    "You shouldn''t have stopped him from complaining, I think he was just getting to the good part," Kalle said as he fastened the reins to the sled. "But yes, we''ve been waiting for any new information."


    "I see both of you are in a conversational mood," said Molam, but it seemed he was also ready to talk about what he learned. Primrose noticed Molam''s pause, seeing his eyes dart around and confirm they were alone before he continued. "He''s closer to his apprentice Jyuni than it appears." Molam raised an eyebrow at Primrose, then tapped Kalle on the shoulder. "Do the two of you understand?"


    Primrose nodded. Kalle might understand Molam''s words as telling him to be careful around the Mursa-to-be, but Primrose heard Molam''s unsaid words confirming Jyuni as one of the Mursa''s potential weaknesses. She tucked that bit of knowledge away, hoping she would never need to use it.


    "Meera''s back," Molam warned under his breath, and the three of them busied themselves as Meera returned, riding her camel.


    "We''re taking a detour to see the Black Pyramid, as you requested," the mursashu rider told Molam specifically. "Did you want to ride with the Mursa again? He has offered you a seat and refreshments."


    "No," Molam replied. "I''ve been meaning to experience Kalle''s driving."


    Kalle chuckled, "You do remember I don''t have enough sleep, right?"


    Molam turned back to Meera. "The Mursa will keep that seat open¡­ hopefully? Moreover, how difficult is it to switch sleds in the middle of ¡ª"


    Primrose ducked as Kalle picked Molam up by his clothes with one hand in a surprising display of strength. He deposited him onto the sand sled, despite his protests.


    "Time to go," Kalle winked at everyone. "We wouldn''t want to keep everyone else waiting."


    <hr>


    The Endless Sands


    Primrose thought that she had acclimated to the heat of the Endless Sands. She had already been traveling in it for ten days, after all.


    She was wrong. Somehow, the temperature had managed to become even more oppressive. Primrose imagined a suffocating, invisible blanket of heat enveloping the Sands. A covering that was only briefly visible outside the corners of one''s eyes. Kalle said that the wavy vision she referred to was simply a phenomena conjured by the warmth, but Primrose half-suspected that couldn''t be the answer. It was the heat, yes; but it was also something more.


    Heat, decided Primrose, was the enemy. The heat did not so much pursue them as surround them. There was nowhere to hide from it as they traveled. While they huddled under the cloth awning stretched above their sand sled, the three of them could find little solace from the radiating waves.


    "Why can''t we travel at night again?" she complained, pulling aside her mask. If the heat wasn''t bad enough, the mask somehow trapped it against her face. "At least I wouldn''t feel like I''m being cooked for dinner."


    "Monsters," answered Molam, his voice muffled by his own face covering.


    "Ah," she said weakly, fanning her face. "Right." They didn''t want to encounter the things that couldn''t bear the light of the Sun. Each and every single breath she took seemed to sear her nostrils. But more importantly, the sheer dryness of the Sands seemed to sap away the moisture from her breath each time she undid the mask.


    "Wonderful," she muttered mostly to herself, taking a quick sip from her waterskin before readjusting her mask. Primrose wasn''t sure whether she hated the heat more or the possibility of nosebleeds, but Meera had said that once a nosebleed started it only led to further complications.


    And so she suffered in relative silence. Any sweat ¡ª if she even had extra water in her body to sweat ¡ª must have been leeched away by the parching wind as it rolled over the dunes. She tried to distract herself by stretching when she could during the monotonous travel, more out of a need to shift her body than to adhere to her daily routine. There were limited movements in a cramped sled, but in a way, this was a blessing. Coming up with new methods to pull on her muscles gave Primrose something to think about that wasn¡¯t heat.


    Kalle said little during this time, much to Primrose''s surprise. For some reason ¡ª well, she knew why she had thought it ¡ª Primrose had expected Kalle to complain the most. But he said little during the day, keeping his eyes focused on the sand sled in front of them. He only spoke when something specific absolutely needed to be conveyed, which mostly meant pointing out Meera was waving towards them.


    As for why Meera would be waving towards them, the reasons differed. There were little to no signs of life in the day, and the Mursa took a route that avoided any possible encounters with what hid beneath the Sands. Meera would occasionally point out far-off areas where the sand was a slightly different shade of yellow, a strong indicator that something had disturbed the grains. Other times, she was pointing to curious ruins or rock formations, evidence of places where humans had probably been.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    From what Primrose gathered, several merchant groups had tried establishing their own trade routes to Oasis since the abandonment of Mur. The allure of being able to also trade in moon wine, woven textiles, rare metals, and most importantly, jade, had resulted in hefty fortunes spent on each attempt to build waystations which could alleviate the issue of water resupply.


    All had failed. And though Primrose could scarcely stomach the taste of warm water with the scent of cured leather, she could at least appreciate the mursashu advantage of being able to refill at Mur. She couldn''t imagine being in any of the failed endeavors that had arrived at a broken waystation, desperate for water and finding only the faint traces of monsters.


    But now, as they approached the Black Pyramid, Meera was pointing to splotches of black on the Sands. To these, the caravan gave a wide, healthy berth. Primrose didn''t need to use her Sight to see why; just looking at them sent a shivering chill down her spine, enough to cut through even the oppressive heat. The Red Emperor and the Nine Lords had killed DuskWing four centuries ago, but the areas marked by the dragon''s black blood had stayed as tainted as the day he fell.


    Primrose spied Meera coming back to the caravan, weaving her camel between the large dark marks. She wasn¡¯t alone. Another rider approached alongside her, his face grim. Wondering if something was wrong, Primrose poked Kalle, hoping he hadn''t fainted in the heat. The man grunted through his mask, then she elbowed Molam in the arm before pointing at the two riders. She didn''t say anything, hoping the two of them would understand. If the riders were heading towards the Mursa, something must have changed.


    Yet as they looked up, Primrose noticed the Black Pyramid again. Or, what she had thought was the Black Pyramid when it first crested the horizon. The structure towering tall as a mountain above the Endless Sands seemed different from what Lyka had told her. Layers upon layers of gold were stacked up in tiers, reaching high into the sky. Lyka had told her it was exactly eight hundred eighty-eight levels and Primrose believed it, such was how tall the pyramid stood.


    Shouldn''t it be black? she thought to herself as they stared at the golden structure. Lyka had made it very clear in her stories, describing the Black Pyramid as true to its namesake color. And yet the pyramid shone a brilliant liquid gold, a shade so beautiful it took her breath away. It was almost painful to look at.


    Molam had pulled down his mask by the time the Mursa''s whistle sounded through the air. Primrose barely had time to notice the red lines around his mouth as he shouted at the two of them, his voice unable to overcome the loud note of warning.


    Primrose''s eyes read his lips, but the sheer insanity of what was being conveyed made it difficult for her to believe what he was saying. She rifled through the thoughts she had as she yanked down her own mask, preparing to shout her own questions when a deafening roar echoed throughout the dunes, overwhelming even the shrill whistle.


    The Pyramid suddenly shone even more brilliantly than before, something Primrose had doubted was even possible. She realized the source of the intense shift a split second too late, as Molam was already shouting the answer into their ringing ears.


    "It''s a dragon''s Domain!"


    The pulse of aura radiated out from the Pyramid in a giant wave, enveloping everything within vision before dissipating after a brief moment. But the moment was enough for anger to rise unbidden within Primrose''s chest; she palmed a dagger while Kalle dropped the reins to extend his silver rod for runecarving. Her right hand stabbed forward while her leg shot up to hook Kalle''s horizontal blow, stomping his weapon to the ground. He knocked aside her stab and reached forward with a grasping hand, aiming for her neck. Leaning backwards, Primrose kicked her other foot upwards between Kalle''s legs, extending the blade hidden within the toe of her boot when Molam''s voice broke through her haze of fury.


    "The anger isn''t yours!"


    Primrose slammed her foot back down; harder than she intended to and winced. The impact sent a painful jolt up her shins, a sensation that meant she would be feeling it later. Kalle''s fist struck down into her shoulder, knocking Primrose into the ground.


    "Sorry!" Kalle shouted immediately as he knelt down, hands hovering over Primrose in hesitation as though he was unsure if he should touch her. "I couldn''t stop my body in time! Are you hurt? I''m really sorry!"


    "I''m fine," she grumbled, taking Kalle''s hand and allowing him to hoist her up. "It''s not that bad. You pulled back as much as you could." Kalle''s face ¡ª or, what she could see of it behind his mask ¡ª seemed to still be in shock, as he looked at his own fist. Rotating her shoulder to check her range of movement, Primrose looked towards Molam. "How did you hold yourself back? That was¡­" she winced at the pain and developing soreness in her shoulder, "...overwhelming."


    She noticed her nostrils were feeling dry already. Primrose pulled the loop of her mask over her face, still in surprise at what just happened. Is that how people feel when I use my Charm on them? she thought.


    It was from the Domain, Primrose realized as she looked at the other sand sleds. Many of the mursashu had come off worse for wear. Even the camels had bitten each other. She saw the bright red of fresh blood interrupting the silver reflections off some of the drawn blades, with several mursashu staring at their own weapons or other injured mursashu in horror. She could not blame them.


    The emotion had seemed so real.


    Pure, unadulterated wrath.


    And what had Molam said earlier about a dragon?


    Molam jumped off the sled, startling Primrose from her thoughts.


    "I''ll join the Mursa!" Molam shouted back at them as he ran towards the Mursa''s sled. "We need to go to the Pyramid!"


    <hr>


    Molam


    Molam ran as fast as he could towards the Mursa''s sled in front of them, his footing unsteady upon the Sands. His ears rang, but his eyes still worked. The Black ¡ª the Golden? No, no time for that ¡ª Pyramid was in front of him. He recognized that specific sheen of gold, having seen this particular dragon¡¯s aura so many times growing up. This was why he was here, why he had accepted this undertaking. There was no time to hesitate.


    The Mursa stood up from his sled, his eyes ablaze with anger. Molam dug in his heels, sliding across the Sand. Was the Mursa also affected by¡­?


    "Is everything all right?" Molam pulled down his mask to shout at the Mursa, hoping the man''s thoughts were clear. The Domain had passed through him as well, but Molam had returned to his senses when Kalle''s fist struck him.


    "Molam, are you sane?" Mursa Shang''s voice muffled through his mask.


    Relief flooded Molam''s veins. At least Mursa Shang had resisted it, but Molam assumed Jyuni had attacked him. "Yes, but there''s no time!" he shouted back at the Mursa. "We need to head towards the Pyramid!"


    The Mursa also pulled down his mask, revealing a bloodied nose. "That''s your current priority? You do realize that''s where the aura came from? Do you even have a good reason?"


    I want to see her, he thought. But Molam couldn''t say that. Instead, "That Domain reached far beyond where we are. It affected even the camels, and we know we''re not the only things in the Sands." He swallowed, mouth already dry from the desert heat, but took the time to speak his next words slowly, with weight. "Everything is coming."


    Mursa Shang''s face blanched. Upon seeing the man''s moment of realization, Molam added, "The only place to hide is the Pyramid."


    Mursa Shang looked grim, then he looked back into his sled. "Jyuni. Can you move?"


    The woman''s voice seemed groggy as she responded from a place where Molam couldn''t see her. "Yes, Mursa. You could have been more gentle."


    "You drew your knife on me. Consider that a love tap," the Mursa replied, then continued, "Get up. You heard Molam. We need to move." He brought his fingers to his mouth and whistled, the shrill sound piercing through the dunes. Before the sound had died out, he was shouting out at the rest of the caravan with an aura-enhanced voice, "I know some of you are injured, but we need to move to the Black Pyramid for safety. Group up with me when you can. Mursa has spoken."


    The mursashu responded as well as they could. Accepting the Mursa''s help, Molam pulled himself up to their sled to see Jyuni with a bleeding cut on her hand as she inspected the camels.


    "They''ll move," Jyuni declared, settling back in with them.


    "What injured you?" Molam asked Mursa Shang, indicating his bleeding nose. "Did Jyuni¡­?"


    "No," he shook his head, wiping the blood from his nose. "That golden Domain overpowered my own. At best, I''ll spread my aura thinly, but I don''t think I should exert my full Domain again while we''re in the Pyramid''s vicinity."


    A sand sled pulled up close. Kalle waved from the driver''s seat. One by one, the rest of the caravan grouped behind the Mursa''s to follow his command. Two camels had been gravely injured and were being swapped out.


    Molam couldn''t help but to be impressed. He''d seen the mursashu work together like a colony of ants, but they had just experienced an unexpected crisis that left more than half of them bleeding or injured. None of the mursashu showed panic, even the younger ones. He could appreciate that sort of determination, but also wondered at what level of disciplined life they lived for all two hundred of them to stay stoic in the face of the unknown.


    A rider came up, one hand bandaging a bleeding gash on his arm. He pulled his mask down then continued working on his bandage while he reported, "That''s all of them, Mursa. All accounted for."


    The Mursa beckoned the man over, then helped him with the bandage. "Any casualties?" he asked


    "No deaths, but four people are currently unconscious." The rider grunted as the Mursa tightened up the tourniquet on his arm.


    "Too tight? I can loosen it."


    "No," the rider replied as he extended his arm, testing the range of his movements. "It''ll do. Thank you, Mursa."


    "Good. We''re moving out to the Pyramid. Now, Jyuni."


    Jyuni flicked her reins. "Hyah!"


    The camels snorted, then began their movement. Molam watched as the rest of the caravan''s sand sleds followed. The Mursa sat down next to him, handing over a waterskin. "Drink. We need to think."


    Molam obliged eagerly, pulling down his mask. While the daily water ration was enough, it wasn''t anything like being able to drink one''s fill. He drank deeply, hoping to be able to share any extra water in his waterskin with Primrose and Kalle later. This was their first time traveling to Oasis and Molam never forgot the way his body learned how much it could crave water.


    His thirst sated, he handed the waterskin back to the Mursa. "Only two things to think about. What''s behind us, and what''s in front of us."


    "They''ve reached the edge of my aura sense," Mursa Shang said darkly. He drank deeply from the waterskin.


    "Numbers?" inquired Molam.


    The Mursa didn''t stop drinking, and held up a hand to signal. Seven. A moment later, his hand signal changed shape. Eight.


    "How far can you currently sense?" Molam needed to know if it was far enough they could escape.


    Instead of an answer, the Mursa jerked a thumb behind them. Molam stood up, balancing on their sand sled as he looked beyond the caravan''s tail in disbelief. Eight long, segmented bodies undulated through the dunes as the monsters dove into the Sand, slithering through it like a swamp. A monstrous maw erupted from below, revealing a gaping hole ringed with razor-sharp teeth before it dove back down. The smallest seemed to be easily eight times the size of a camel, and the largest appeared to span the length of their entire caravan.


    These were the only monsters of the Endless Sands that could stand the light of the Sun.


    Sandwurms.


    A teeth-rattling clang echoed throughout the Endless Sands, dragging Molam''s attention away from what was behind them. The sound had come from the place they were heading towards: the Black Pyramid.


    Jyuni''s gasp was audible through her mask as a thunderous charge rumbled from the Pyramid''s base. Sand flew into the air as several dunes erupted in a frenzy of movement. Camels crested the dunes heading away from the Pyramid, galloping as fast as they could at an off-angle from Molam¡¯s group. Several tens of riders rode the camels with a few sand sleds trailing behind, their spears held at the ready and gleaming in the Sun''s light.


    But what were the other group running from? Molam''s eyes trailed behind the riders, and his stomach fell upon seeing the large shapes emerge from the cloud of sand. At least six more undulating bodies, all baring gnashing teeth, chased the foreign group in front of them.


    If they continued to go forward, their caravan would be caught on both sides.

 Ch 81: Monsters

    Petition to combine the categories rejected.


    You fail to see the fundamental reason why there are separate categories for non-human nomenclature. I can only kindly attribute it to blissful ignorance borne from having spent your life in the Central Valley, so I will simplify it for you:


    You hunt animals.


    Monsters hunt you.


    ¡ª Note from Head Scholar ZuanBing to Scholar Zuma, embedded in the first copy of Creatures of the Night


    <hr>


    Area around the Pyramid (formerly Black, now ???)


    Molam nudged Mursa Shang the moment he saw the second set of Sandwurms slithering through the dunes. "Change of plans. We need to merge with the other group."


    "And be chased by both swarms of Sandwurms?" Mursa Shang asked incredulously. "What happened to taking refuge in the Pyramid?"


    "Situation''s changed," Molam said, trying to think. The speed at which the circumstances had changed was giving him a headache. "Why do you think that group left the Black Pyramid? They must have known they were surrounded, but they left regardless. That means staying in the Black Pyramid was worse than being chased by Sandwurms."


    "The roar, Mursa," Jyuni added. "Something''s in the Black Pyramid." She shuddered. "We can''t face a dragon, Mursa. Remember the encounter with EarthShaker?"


    Molam said nothing, waiting for Mursa Shang to make a decision. It pained him to divert their path, but he had a few burning questions himself. Why had the other group been at the Pyramid? What had they done to cause the Princess to release that wave of wrath? He couldn''t risk walking into her presence without knowing why.


    But the danger neared, unfolding in front of their eyes. The Sandwurms surged over the dunes, chasing the other host of sand sleds. The largest wurm reared up, the five serrated flaps covering its maw spreading wide to reveal a dense layer of razor-sharp teeth lining a gaping gullet, and struck down on the sand sleds straggling at the rear.


    Clang.


    A large golden barrier had materialized right above the sleds to block the monster''s gnashing bite, then several extra auric barriers sprang up to block the advance of four more wurms. Two other would-be attackers angled away from the shields, shifting their approach by digging into the Sands.


    They''re intelligent, thought Molam. He''d read about the rumored intelligence of these particular monsters. The theories were borne from the way the wurms had been created, and the reasons they craved human flesh. But he couldn''t afford to linger on that thought. The manifested barriers were more important.


    "That has to be the Shield of Oasis!" Molam shouted at the Mursa, hoping this was enough to get the man to change his mind. "Do you need more of a reason now?!"


    "Diyah guide me, I don''t even know what I¡¯m doing anymore if I''m choosing to be chased by Sandwurms," Mursa Shang muttered, then whistled for his people''s attention. "We''re changing course to merge with the other group ahead of us. Mursa has spoken." Then, even louder so his voice would travel to the other group, "Shield of Oasis! This is Mursa Shang, here to give you aid!"


    The booming voice echoed across the dunes, to no response.


    He gave Molam a glare, then spoke in a normal voice, "Why would the Shield of Oasis be retreating from Sandwurms?"


    "He must have been injured by the dragon''s Domain," Molam replied, but the question had merit. Why was the Shield of Oasis not just killing the monsters? Was the Shield also unable to exert his Domain because of whatever the Princess was doing? For the first time in his life, Molam realized he had no idea what the special properties of the Princess''s Domain were. He had other suspicions, but voicing any of them would only result in baseless worrying ¡ª and he was already worried enough. "We won''t know until we ask him."


    "This could have all been avoided if you didn''t ask for such a detour," said Mursa Shang darkly, with a hint of accusation.


    "I hope you aren''t implying I expected something like this," Molam replied with a grim smile.


    "No, but your choice got my people into this deadly mess. Now it''s become a matter of survival! I don''t suppose that brilliant head of yours has anything beyond merging hosts with the Shield of Oasis?"


    "Give me control then," Molam said seriously to Mursa Shang. "I can''t be effective if I need to wait for you to decide if each action is worth following, can I?"


    The Mursa regarded him in a moment of silence, then said to Jyuni, "we need to merge with the Shield''s host before this gets out of hand."


    "Hyah!" Jyuni flicked the reins, spurring their camels faster. The rest of the caravan''s drivers would undoubtedly follow the new speed.


    Mursa Shang sat back down, steadying himself against the accelerated pace. "You haven''t earned it yet," he finally said to Molam, putting on his mask again. "Just tell me what you think needs to be done and I''ll make the call. I have more experience in the Endless Sands."


    Molam followed suit, pulling his mask over his mouth and nose. A quick lick of the tongue found his lower lip had split in the brief moments he kept the mask off, and the blood had already dried. He wasn''t disappointed at the Mursa''s decision; Molam hadn''t expected the Mursa to agree, but it would have been more efficient than needing an intermediary to decide what path was worth following.


    Truth be told, he agreed that the Mursa was more experienced when it came to dealing with Sandwurms, but a niggling feeling made Molam suspect they were in uncharted territory. They hadn''t planned for this madness and he worried it could only get worse.


    He looked towards the Black Pyramid again. Or, the soon to be renamed Golden Pyramid? He still found it difficult to believe the drastic change, given he had seen it from afar when he traveled with Mursa Khan two years ago. The structure had reminded him of a stygian onyx, a tinge darker than the black splotches dotting the surrounding Sands. The change in color and that roar¡­ it must have been the Princess.


    But what had happened? Did it have something to do with why the Shield was retreating?


    Molam didn¡¯t have time to consider this further, as Jyuni spoke up again, urgency in her voice. "Mursa."


    Molam imagined Mursa Shang also recognized the problem as soon as the two of them looked up, eyes taking in the short distance between them and the other group of sand sleds. Jyuni had driven their caravan close at an angle designed to intercept the other group''s trajectory, but now their interception course was slightly off. In the time since they''d agreed to merge with the other group, the Shield''s group had sped up to stay ahead of the Sandwurms chasing them. At their current trajectory, they would miss the other group of sand sleds and collide with the Sandwurms instead.


    The reason for the differing speed was simple: the other group had just a few sleds, carrying very little from what Molam could see. Meanwhile, their caravan was weighed down by precious cargo. The mursashu had slowed down compared to the group they were desperately trying to catch up with.


    "The camels won''t last at this pace any longer, Mursa," Jyuni reminded them, her voice sounding unnaturally calm. Molam could see what she meant; the two camels pulling their sled were panting, their tongues hanging out of their mouths.


    Three of the Sandwurms chasing the other group seemed to realize the mursashu were coming closer. They turned, heads swaying to and fro with closed mouths, apparently deciding between chasing fleeing prey or accepting an oncoming meal. The largest one bellowed, the folds momentarily masking its terrible teeth rippling in anticipation.


    That sound sent a wave of anxiety and fear gripping at Molam''s throat. He''d miscalculated. The caravan originally had the speed to reach, but he hadn''t considered if the other group was capable of speeding up. Why hadn''t he considered that? He glanced at the Pyramid to their right, ready to guess the distance. But two more of the monsters had appeared to block that path, apparently drawn over by the commotion from the large one''s loud trumpeting.


    Mursa Shang''s voice boomed next to him, sending his message out to the caravan behind them. "Ready your weapons once you come to a stop! Prepare to defend yourselves!"


    Jyuni slackened the reins and grabbed the wooden paddle, jamming it into the sand to guide the sled to the top of a nearby dune. The camels, freed from her control, slowed down to a stop just as they reached the top, looking like they were about to drop. Her other hand reached for her spear, hefting it firmly in her hand. Molam noticed the blade was decorated with an embedded topaz.


    "Spear for you?" Jyuni pulled out another spear from the sled, this one plain. "I heard you use a bow, but it''s extremely unlikely to aim for the moment they open their mouths. Remember to speak up if you''re cut ¡ª you''ll have ten breaths. There''s three healers capable of stopping the poison, but we''ll need to get you to Oasis to fully neutralize it."


    "Got a shield?" Molam almost laughed at the absurdity of the situation: Sandwurms chasing behind them, turning on them from the direction ahead, and blocking the safe haven they initially meant to go towards. They were fully surrounded. Had the right choice been to head for the Pyramid after all? Would they have even made it before they were cut off?


    "This seems hopeless," said Mursa Shang. The man was standing up, index finger drawing golden runes of the Old Tongue into the air. Surprisingly, Molam didn''t hear a hint of accusation. His voice, too, was unnaturally calm now, akin to Jyuni¡¯s. He made a pushing motion, sending the glowing pictograms into the sand beneath them. "I can''t exert a full Domain because there''s a dragon, and we''re being chased by sixteen Sandwurms with no solid ground in reach. I don''t know if this trickery will pull us through.¡± Mursa Shang stole a fleeting moment to level a look at him. ¡°I see even you make critical mistakes off the board, Molam."


    "Molam!"


    He turned around to see Primrose and Kalle securing their sand sled. Primrose carried a spear and Kalle sported a shield. Meera rode beside them, patting her tired camel''s neck. Beyond them, the rest of the mursashu pulled up in various forms of determined disarray. Molam knew this wasn''t their first encounter with Sandwurms, but none of the stories had described fighting more than four at a time.


    "No time!" Jyuni alerted them as she thrust a spear towards Molam, one he certainly did not ask for. Apparently they didn''t keep shields on this sled. "They''re here!"


    The Sandwurms reached the edge of the Mursa''s golden Domain, then two dove into the sand. The four that attempted to enter the Domain immediately dropped down to the Sand, spasming against the grains. They roared, their teeth gleaming in the Sun''s light. At this distance, Molam could see each individual tooth''s razor edge.


    "The four in front first!" ordered Mursa Shang. Beads of sweat lined the Mursa''s brow. Molam imagined the four monsters in front of them weren''t the only ones fighting Mursa Shang''s will. The eight behind them must have already caught up, and the only reason they hadn''t attacked was because they were also struggling against whatever held them down within the Mursa''s Domain.


    Sixteen riders galloped forth, their spears held across their laps. Molam spied a large shield with the standard hole in the middle slung across the backs of half of them, the preferred method for contending with a wurm''s devastating bite.


    "Meera, we''re short a spear! We''ll need you at the rear!" came a shout from another rider as they galloped past. Meera gave them a curt nod, turning her camel around and whispering words of encouragement at it before looking back at Molam and the others. "Pay attention to the fight in front of you, you may as well learn the process if you ever need to help out! Just remember it''s easier when they''re forced onto the ground with their mouths in reach!"Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    Molam watched her ride after the others to the caravan''s rear, then turned his attention back to the riders in front of them just as they neared the struggling monsters. He considered his options for what he could actually do besides watch aimlessly, having already seen this once before when traveling with Mursa Khan. But Mursa Shang was preoccupied, holding down the Sandwurms. No conversation could be had there, as he couldn''t risk breaking the man''s concentration. Jyuni was barking orders at some of the mursashi or messenger riders. Molam heard something about ensuring certain important sand sleds were kept apart to minimize collateral damage.


    Accepting there seemed to be nothing he could actively help with, Molam turned his attention back to the riders engaging the Sandwurms, prepared to answer any questions Kalle or Primrose voiced should they have any. The riders split into teams of four ¡ª two shieldbearers and two spearwielders ¡ª to each Sandwurm.


    The shields approached first, moving in a synchronized formation, their weapons gleaming under the Sun. The monsters roared, evidently frustrated at being held down in place by something they could not bite. Their massive, scaled bodies writhed against the invisible force, sand spraying into the air as they struggled. A shieldbearer hefted his spear, then launched it at the wurm in front of him. They rode up just into reach as the spear bounced off the Sandwurm''s thick scales, but it had served its purpose. Extending its head, the Sandwurm opened its cavernous maw at the shieldbearer, who held up his shield right as the creature struck. Despite its mouth being shaded by the rest of its body, Molam caught the glittering of teeth.


    A twist of the inner handle caused razor sharp edges to protrude from the shield, easily doubling its radius as the wurm clamped down. It had bitten the shield, but the shield bit back. The monster careened wildly, the flap-lips thrashing in an attempt to dislodge the painful blades embedded in its flesh. Blood, dark and viscous, oozed from the fresh wounds, staining the sand beneath. The shieldbearer had long abandoned his shield, riding away while motioning and shouting at the others of his team.


    A spear shot straight for the hole within the shield''s center, a precise strike aiming for the weak point within. It disappeared into the vast gullet and the monster screeched, an ear-splitting sound that set Molam''s teeth on edge. He winced, the high-pitched wail reverberating in his skull.


    But it did not die. The pain only caused it to thrash even harder, its massive body whipping back and forth, creating a frenzy of disturbed sand and blood.


    The second spear wielder took careful aim, her eyes narrowed in concentration. The Sandwurm''s swaying head made her task infinitely harder. She tracked its movements, waiting for the right moment. When the creature attempted to strike at the riders again, she seized the opportunity. With a swift, practiced motion, she hurled her spear. It flew straight and through, piercing the shield''s hole.


    The monster careened to the side, its body writhing like a tortured snake. The sound, still painful, seemed to be less enraged and more pitiful in its death throes. Violent convulsions resulted in the tail lashing out unexpectedly, sending two riders off their camels as it shuddered one last time.


    Molam took a deep breath, taking stock of the other fights. All four Sandwurms had been taken down at more or less the same time. Good; that meant none of the monsters had witnessed the mursashu¡¯s tactic and lived.


    The Mursa''s voice boomed out again. "We have six injured, but none were poisoned. See to it that the wounded are cared for. Focus on the remaining fight behind us."


    Wait. Molam waved urgently at Mursa Shang, getting his attention. "There were still two more beneath the Sands!"


    "Those two are digging downwards," he replied in a curt tone, as though it explained anything, then flinched as a giant roar echoed throughout the dunes. Jyuni and Molam instinctively looked towards the Pyramid, but immediately realized it was coming from a different direction.


    A larger shadow loomed from the southeast, slithering quickly towards the rear of the caravan. Molam''s stomach dropped at the sight of its size. The others they''d already killed could easily swallow a few camels, but this¡­ this one was large enough to eat two fully laden sand sleds side by side.


    "I didn''t think Sandwurms grew that big," he muttered, turning to Jyuni and Mursa Shang. Their looks of shock didn''t give him any confidence. "I hope you have a bigger shield?"


    "They don''t normally grow that large." Jyuni tore her eyes away, looking to her mentor. "Mursa? Are we fighting or fleeing?"


    "We don''t have a shield big enough to fight it," he said in between big gulps of water. "And we can''t move right now, our riders are still engaging with the eight behind us. They''ve encountered some problems."


    Unable to fight or flee. Molam''s nerves tingled uncomfortably, eyes flickering from Jyuni to Mursa Shang.


    "Molam!?" Primrose shouted from the other sand sled, her voice full of nervous urgency. "We have¡­ thirty breaths before that gets here!"


    Not enough time. It seemed the Mursa also came to the same conclusion, because he issued a rapid order. "Riders, continue. The rest move ahead, following the Shield''s tracks!"


    The rest of the mursashu leapt into motion. Though the camels hadn''t possibly recovered their energy, the animal handlers soothed them into action faster than Molam thought possible. Jyuni beckoned at Kalle, then pointed at Molam. "That means you too!"


    Molam agreed immediately. He had no intention to die here. In less than fifteen breaths, the first sand sled had already passed by him, with the others following in hot pursuit. Kalle drove their sand sled close and Molam leapt from the Mursa''s sled over, exchanging a brief nod with Mursa Shang.


    Primrose seemed confused about Jyuni not moving the Mursa''s sled. "What about ¡ª"


    Molam interrupted her, shaking his head. "Kalle, drive!"


    "Hyah!" Kalle snapped the reins, spurring their camels into motion.


    A hungry roar sounded from behind them, echoing off the dunes. Molam glanced behind; it chased forward, this colossal Sandwurm. Its mouth had opened in anticipation, the head likening itself to a five-petaled flower of flesh ringed with teeth, the center interior down its gullet black as night.


    When it came close enough, the Mursa shouted again. "Riders ¡ª follow!"


    At her Mursa''s booming order, Jyuni snapped her camel''s reins to follow their sand sled.


    Molam understood the Mursa''s plan of action, even if he wasn''t confident in it. Mursa Shang was protecting his people by ensuring he himself was between them and the rest of the Sandwurms, extending the distance between them by maximizing the use of his aura''s reach. Moreover, the giant Sandwurm stopped when encountering the carcasses of its kind, seemingly pondering the deaths as the riders dispersed, riding after them. The moment Mursa Shang''s golden influence stopped covering the three remaining Sandwurms, they thrashed about and righted themselves again.


    Only for the giant Sandwurm to bite down on the pile of dead bodies, catching a live Sandwurm in the process.


    "They''re cannibals?" Primrose asked, horrified at what she was seeing.


    Molam grimaced. It was one thing to read about, but another to see it. "They don''t naturally grow their intelligence after turning," he said grimly. "It''s more of an¡­ acquisition."


    "Eugh," Kalle groaned. "If it comes down to it, please make sure to kill me before leaving me. I can''t imagine being added to a putrid pile of¡ª"


    Molam clapped his hands to his ears; the roar vibrated throughout his bones to drown out all thought. They all looked behind them again, spotting the giant Sandwurm thrashing about on the dunes, sending clouds of sand flying into the air to fall back down in golden-brown sheets. It fought Mursa Shang''s will, screeching angrily at his restraints.


    It wasn''t exactly contained, but at least it couldn''t follow them. If Mursa Shang could continuously pin the monster down to the ground, their entire caravan could get away. Molam looked ahead, noting how their caravan was progressing swiftly in single file, following the lingering tracks left by the other group. The group that had ran.


    They had fled. Molam thought about that numbly, vaguely aware that when his thoughts lingered on an issue like this it meant something didn''t quite add up. Sandwurms were fearsome, yes. But not for Titled Ones who should be able to easily fight them with their Domain. Even the Mursa, an inherited Title, could keep the monsters in check. He hadn''t been able to ask the question until now, but it nagged at him: Shouldn''t the Shield of Oasis be more than capable of dealing with these monsters?


    So why did the Shield run?


    "Mursa!"


    Jyuni''s alarmed voice blew away Molam''s thoughts, just in time for him to turn around and see Mursa Shang swaying unsteadily on the moving sled. He must have been taxed by the additional difficulty of exerting his will without the aid of a Domain. The man''s eyes seemed unfocused, and a trail of already drying blood dripped down from his nose. He threatened to topple over off the moving sled, and Jyuni had to drop her reins in order to pull him back.


    Another roar of frustration echoed from beyond, and Molam waited for its echoes to die out before speaking, but Primrose shouted before he could speak. "He''s not maintaining his aura!"


    As though emphasizing Primrose''s observation, the remnants of Mursa Shang''s aura flickered and fizzled out of existence. Molam had little time to reconsider his over-reliance on the Mursa''s ability to restrain the monsters. The giant Sandwurm righted itself, lifting its head as the folds of its mouth rippled thrice, then it gave chase.


    The Mursa''s sand sled had already driven off course, the camels running without guidance while Jyuni struggled to keep her Mursa from falling off. Uncertain of where to go, the camels had tried turning back to follow the rest of the caravan but pathed over the dunes at an awkward angle, resulting in the Mursa''s sand sled pitching dangerously to the side.


    Mursa Shang startled back into consciousness with a yelp, flailing his arms wildly to look for a balance that was not there. His movement was the deciding factor; the sand sled tilted over, the reins choking the camels as Jyuni and Mursa Shang flew out of their seats onto the Sands.


    Primrose turned just as Molam did. They both shouted out different commands at Kalle, who was stuck between the two of them.


    "Go faster!" Primrose urged Kalle. "It''s coming!"


    "Turn back!" Molam demanded at the same time. "We can''t afford to lose the Mursa!"


    "I can''t do both!" Kalle snapped back, keeping his eyes straight.


    Primrose and Molam stared at each other, then Primrose''s lips went stubborn. "It''s necessary if we''re going to survive!"


    Molam ignored her, putting his foot on the side of the sand sled. "Not how I do things."


    "Sit down!"


    Primrose''s Charm almost compelled him, but Molam shook it off. Whether it was the feather''s protection, the jade talisman, or even his withered soul, he didn''t care. She lunged for him just as Molam jumped, her fingers hooking around his arm guard as he leapt onto the Sands, succeeding only in ripping it off his arm.


    He''d mistimed his tumble, in part from the angled dune''s slope and also the speed at which they had been moving. There was no time to tuck his shoulder in for a roll as he flopped painfully onto his back, wincing as the air left his body. Somewhere nearby, Primrose''s voice was shouting something at Kalle, but Molam''s thoughts took priority front and center.


    We might not reach Oasis without the Mursa. Though Primrose had a point; there was little they could do about the giant Sandwurm, and the situation had somehow dramatically worsened.


    How had the situation worsened to such an extent? Molam could have sworn just moments ago, the most important thing he was thinking about was realizing the Black Pyramid was no longer its namesake color. Though he could probably track the individual events leading up to now ¡ª as blended as they were ¡ª Molam found himself dangerously close to doing the one thing his mentor always cautioned him against: losing sight of what mattered.


    His life ¡ª their lives mattered, yes. But they were half a day away from Oasis. No Mursa, no Domain, and given how things were going, maybe a string of even more unfortunate problems lay in the immediate future. And even if they somehow reached Oasis ¡ª a big, giant "if" ¡ª Mursa Shang''s caravan would be well within their rights to harbor resentment, and the other two Mursa could potentially use this against him somewhere down the line.


    There could be no doubt: the right decision here was to save the Mursa. At least, that''s what he was going to tell himself, given that he had no idea what he could do to directly stop a house sized Sandwurm from hunting them down. His gamble had been that Primrose and Kalle would be forced to stop for him.


    The ground beneath his back rumbled, bringing Molam out of his thoughts. He grunted as he flopped over, pushing himself off the hot grains of sand. Stumbling to his feet, he looked up to see the giant Sandwurm at a medium distance. Its sheer size made it seem closer than it appeared as it followed the three remaining Sandwurms to chase several riders galloping right in front of them. Molam guessed they had opted to distract the monsters, taking a curved path while Mursa Shang and Jyuni tried to untie their camels from the sand sleds. Smart. He guessed Mursa Shang had made the call to abandon most of their cargo, having already stuffed the bag of the more valuable items on the back of a camel. The rest of their cargo lay strewn about on the Sand.


    But the most important thing ¡ª the Mursa''s Domain ¡ª was nowhere to be felt or seen. Molam could think of no reason for him to not have extended it again, which meant either Mursa Shang had forgotten about the monsters bearing down on him or he had exhausted his aura. Given the chaos in the vicinity, Molam could only guess it was the latter. Had the Mursa run out of aura because he was holding down too many Sandwurms, including the large one?


    "Molam!" The urgency of the shout, coupled with the way the sand sunk beneath his feet caused Molam to look up. He saw Jyuni standing at the edge of a dune looking down at him with a horrified look on her face, throwing a spear directly at him. The spear struck the ground near his legs before he could react, a thick rope attached to its handle. "We need to pull you up!"


    Up? That didn''t make sense. Molam looked around; he had landed on a slope, no? When did this become a basin?


    The slanted edge of the sands began falling down as he sank further, revealing the sharp teeth appearing through the sides of the basin. Somehow, his hand had instinctually gripped onto the rope, and Jyuni barely waited for Molam to wrap it around his wrist before yanking hard on the rope.


    I wasn''t paying attention, he realized as the teeth closed in around him. Without the Mursa''s interference, the two wurms underground found their way back up again. It was so obvious in hindsight.


    Molam flew upwards, but Jyuni didn''t have the strength to hoist him up in one go. The earth''s pull caught him and Molam tried in vain to climb up, but the maw was already shutting on him.


    And Primrose still had his arm guard.

 Ch 82: ShieldMarshal

    The past has already gone.


    The future may never happen.


    So all we have is now.


    ¡ª Excerpt from Meditations, by the Red Emperor


    <hr>


    The Endless Sands, SouthWest of the Pyramid


    The thing about mistakes, Molam''s mentor had always warned him, is that the next one could be your last.


    Multiple rows of gleaming blade-like teeth closed around Molam. His mind clawed frantically for any final, desperate options. Use the teeth themselves as handholds and footholds? He would certainly be poisoned, but it would buy him a few extra moments before the venom set in. The mursashu had a few healers capable of temporarily neutralizing the Sandwurm venom, so major-risk-of-death later was preferable to guaranteed-death now, right?


    Molam made to lunge towards the teeth, only for the rope around his hand to yank upwards, the friction burning painfully against his skin. His hand missed the lethal edges, but it was pointless anyway now that they were inches from skewering his body. He closed his eyes, ready for the pain. There were no options left. He wouldn''t even need to bring his knife to his neck.


    Krrrrrrkkkkk.


    He opened his eyes, hearing the sound of something¡­ splintering? It was the teeth, gnashing futilely against a golden barrier wrapped around his body. He lurched sideways as something seemed to slam into the Sandwurm from its side, then the rope around his hand pulled again, yanking him clean out of the beast¡¯s mouth. Molam floundered briefly in the air before landing painfully on his back, looking up at Primrose''s furious face and Kalle''s worried expression. The rope twisted around Kalle''s arm told him it was the alchemist who had pulled him out.


    "Hoy, he''s not breathing," said a thick-accented male voice Molam did not recognize. "Do ya think he got bit?"


    "He''s alive!" shouted Jyuni, relief in her voice. Her face popped into view, inspecting him closely. "Molam, were you poisoned? Can you still talk?"


    "If I can''t, are you going to kill me?" he groaned, trying to sit up.


    "I just might either way," came Primrose''s cold voice from somewhere to his right. "Get him up."


    Kalle''s larger hand pulled Molam up to his feet, holding him in place as he half stumbled. "Can you think?"


    Molam wasn''t sure if Kalle was checking on his vitals or not. "Yes?"


    "Good, because this is one giant mess," said Primrose. "Let him see, Kalle." Kalle stepped to the side, with Primrose gesturing to the chaos behind them. "Get us out of the mess you dragged us back into."


    A dark-skinned Oasian was clambering back onto his camel. He appeared to be the source of the previous thick-accented voice, shouting to a small group of Oasian riders up the dune. "Mursa Shang and his apprentice are alive, Jyuyan! The Valley-dweller too!"


    A dead Sandwurm lay to the side. Molam could only assume it was the one that had almost eaten him. Noting the monster''s half-severed head and bright red blood staining the Sands, Molam looked beyond Kalle''s large form to see a battlefield.


    Multiple riders, mursashu and Oasian alike, rode in designated squads of four as they looked for an opening to attack the normal-sized Sandwurms. Five were left, similar in size and length, their only distinguishing feature being small variations in the color of their exoskeletons. They largely seemed uninjured, with only one spear sticking out of a monster where the chitin plates overlapped each other.


    "Primrose! Kalle!" shouted Meera as she rode past them, pointing to some of the riderless camels following her. "We''re down half a squad! Join me; I''m heading towards the last one on the left!"


    "Primrose, my arm guard?" Molam asked hastily, not wanting Primrose to forget it before she left.


    "I don''t know, it fell onto the Sands," she answered. "It won''t do you much good against monsters, will it? Come, Kalle."


    Kalle cast a dubious eye at the camels, looking for the largest. Primrose gave Molam one last glare that told him he would be getting an earful later before dragging Kalle forward to the two camels Meera left for them. This surprised Molam; she had just tried to abandon the mursashu and now she was volunteering to help them fight monsters? Or not, he surmised, correcting himself. Primrose had emphasized the need to survive.


    Well, he thought as he watched them ride towards the wurms. Nothing guarantees survival like killing the murderous things that see you as food. He wasn''t entirely certain how he was going to defend his decision to Primrose later. Correction; if there was a later. There were multiple problems he needed to deal with now.


    But something about the way these monsters moved had changed, Molam noticed. They no longer struck directly down at the riders as the shieldbearers came within reach. No matter how much the riders goaded them, the Sandwurms would roar with frustration and attack in other ways. A stray tail swipe knocked over several riders and their camels, leaving two riders exposed on the Sands. The monster seemed to attack then, but held back as soon as the shieldbearers rushed forward, closing its maw swiftly at their approach.


    They saw the strategy, Molam realized. They aren''t willing to open their mouths again.


    Molam looked behind him. The mursashu caravan had come to a stop, balanced precariously on the ridge of a dune. He could only guess they had stopped for their Mursa. The Oasian host had also stopped nearby, with their sand sleds parked atop a separate sandy hill.


    "Are you done looking around yet?" asked Jyuni testily. "We''re only dealing with a crisis here!"


    "My assessment would have been faster if someone could have filled me in on the details," Molam threw back at Jyuni, then softened his tone a bit. "I''ll treat it as my punishment for being caught unawares. I think I have the gist of what''s going on, but several final questions. Where''s Mursa Shang, where''s the Shield, where''s the big Sandwurm, and what happens if these things won''t open their mouths?"


    Jyuni opened her mouth to answer, but a loud roar rumbled through the desert expanse, rattling Molam''s bones. He looked beyond the Sandwurms surrounding them to see the giant one held down by aura. Multiple segments of its body were encased in a series of golden barriers, preventing it from slithering across the Sands. The cavernous maw faced them, revealing thousands of razor edge teeth. The points formed a patterned ring around the golden barrier keeping it from closing its mouth. The effect made it look as though a giant golden iris was staring at them.


    It roared again, bellowing its frustration. Its gnashing teeth cracked against the auric barrier. The blow from its breath blasted at Molam, smelling of something acrid, rotting, foul. He winced at the stench, narrowing his eyes against the reeking air. Only then did he notice the lone man riding towards the hulking wurm.


    That answers two questions.


    Molam was startled out of his observation of the rider by movement in his peripheral vision. Jyuni had raised a finger to point in the direction of the Mursa, who had been pulled back onto the righted sand sled. He was slumped to the side, eyes closed and hands clutching his head. While the scene provided a third answer for Molam¡¯s initial string of inquiries, it also raised another pressing question.


    He had heard that aura deficiency caused a severe headache and overwhelming nausea, but before now, it hadn¡¯t crossed his mind that it could affect a Titled One. Could someone with reserves great enough to maintain a Domain ever actually be so completely depleted of aura? Given Mursa Shang¡¯s current state, he was hard pressed to think of any other answer for what ailed him. Unfortunately, he didn¡¯t have much time to fully consider what that meant, as his train of thought was disrupted by nearby yelling.


    "Jyuni!" shouted one of the Oasians, waving a frantic hand. "Incoming!"


    They looked up in alarm. A Sandwurm had broken past the riders, rushing haphazardly around the Sands. It rolled in their direction, only to thrash about as it reached them. Molam ducked, feeling the wind gust overhead as the tail narrowly missed his head. Jyuni dove forward to crash into Molam''s side and force him down into a small ditch before he could straighten up. The maneuver saved him from the tail''s reverse strike.


    "Hyah!" The shouts of riders encouraging their mounts reached Molam''s ears as they came up towards them, taking care to steer clear of the Sandwurm''s writhing body. The monster''s body rolled over their ditch, so close to him that he could reach up and touch its segmented chitin.


    "Jyuni!" came several worried shouts. Molam vaguely heard two voices shout his name as well ¡ª Primrose and Kalle. Some part of his thoughts recognized this must be the Sandwurm they had previously rode off with Meera to face. Useless information amid the danger.


    Jyuni''s hand clenched tight around his elbow, dragging him backwards as sand fell around them from the monster''s flailing movements. "I thought you could exert a Domain!" she hissed.


    His left arm was still light without the arm guard. Molam shook his head. "I don''t think any of us should be using a Domain," he replied.


    "What do you mean?!" she demanded through gritted teeth.


    Molam hesitated, but decided to share his findings. "I think this dragon''s Domain differs in that it doesn''t mute aura, it simply punishes you for using too much at once." That would track with the Princess'' personality.


    There was no time for further argument as the tail slammed into the ground near them, disturbing them from their hideaway. "Jyuni!" shouted Meera as she swiftly rode close, her hand held out while the sand tumbled down around them. Jyuni caught Meera''s hand and was yanked upwards onto the rider''s camel, and Molam suddenly found himself alone, trying his best to clamber out of the pit as it filled with sand. Somewhere above him the Sandwurm roared, then the tail lifted into the air and Molam recognized an incoming slam. He slipped on the falling grains and found his foot sinking, trapped with nowhere to hide.


    Better squashed than poisoned and turned, thought Molam as he braced himself for the impact.


    At that moment, an Oasian slid into the ditch with him with a large shield. "You better be worth it," the man growled, bracing the shield on his shoulder above them. Molam scarcely had time to throw in what meager strength he could offer from his right arm before the slam came down, blasting their ears in the cramped space with the ringing of solid metal.


    Pain shot down Molam''s arm as something snapped under the weight of the impact. Even though he cushioned his elbow with the sand, it had only managed to prevent the worst. The Oasian grunted, lifting his shield to look up, then scooted closer to Molam in a hurry as he covered them again.


    Clang. The second slam lingered in his ears as a light ringing. Molam blinked sand out of his eyelashes, then felt hands tug on his arms and shoulders. He flinched as someone tried to pull him out of the sand using his right arm.


    "Bone fractured," he hissed at the pain, offering only his right shoulder and left arm instead. When the two Oasians and mursashu pulled him free, Molam looked around for the Sandwurm. The Oasian who had saved him with the shield tapped him on the shoulder, nodding his head towards the approaching Meera and Jyuni with several spare camels trailing behind them.


    "I appreciate you diving in to help him, Rider Jyuyan," Jyuni said, her tone formal but tinged with relief.


    "Bonus payments are accepted," the Oasian who had shielded him responded. Jyuyan rubbed his own bruised shoulder. "The Sandwurm?"


    "They''re trying to control its rampage!" another Oasian shouted, leading their camels over as he pointed. Jyuyan and Molam turned at the same time, seeing the Sandwurm continuously thrashing about on the Sands as the riders ¡ª Kalle and Primrose included ¡ª attempted to corral it away from the sand sleds carrying precious cargo. And still, it refused to open its mouth whenever a shield was in range. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    "Rider Jyuyan," Jyuni began. "We need to finish off the Sandwurms but our Mursa is experiencing aura deficiency. If the Shield could¡ª"


    "Turning around for you wasn''t my idea," said Jyuyan, "and I''ll be damned if I let any of my riders die because of you, understand? We''re only here because the Shield is friends with your Mursa, and the Shield can''t even utilize his Domain right now under that dragon''s aura . If these monsters won''t open their mouths, we don''t have to stay. Pack up, get everyone off the Sands and ready to move out!"


    Jyuni seemed to look at Molam, who shook his head. He wasn''t acting Mursa yet, and didn''t want to risk any improper blame. As Mursa Shang''s chosen inheritor, she would have the authority to act while he was incapacitated. More importantly ¡ª Rider Jyuyan had mentioned a dragon. Molam was hoping to learn more.


    "Gyota, Teyasu, Cholani!" Jyuni shouted the names of the most senior mursashi up at the dune where most of the caravan was waiting. "We''re moving! Trostani, send a healer to see to the Mursa!"


    The mursashu jumped into action, their sand sleds sitting at the ready. A female healer rode down from the dune, leading two camels to Jyuni so she could replace the ones that had originally pulled the Mursa''s sand sled. The healer nodded towards Jyuni as she slid down, the two of them swiftly attaching the sled''s harness on the fresh camels.


    In mere moments, they were ready. Molam could appreciate how dexterously they worked, a testament to how each of the mursashu lived and breathed the life of a nomad working with traveling gear.


    "Go, go, go!" Rider Jyuyan bellowed at his people after Jyuni signaled she was ready.


    "What are you waiting for?" Jyuni shouted at Molam. "Get on!"


    Realizing he was still standing on the Sands, Molam jumped onto the sand sled with Jyuni, Mursa Shang, and the healer. The healer helped steady him as he landed, ensuring his broken arm didn''t bang onto anything.


    Jyuni waved at the caravan, and they were off. "Rider Jyuyan," she called out to the Oasian riders as they followed their group. "What about the squads fighting the Sandwurms?"


    "They''ll get a signal to retreat when we''ve made enough space," Jyuyan yelled back. "Just make sure your people don''t get hurt! The healers can''t heal in this Domain!"


    What? Did that mean¡­ Molam turned to look at the healer on his sled, who slumped to the side with blood dripping from her nose. If the healers couldn¡¯t heal, then that meant if someone became poisoned ¡ª


    The sound of a bellowing roar reverberated throughout the dunes. They looked behind them, seeing the giant Sandwurm flailing in place, several of the golden auric barriers disintegrating.


    More importantly, Cholani hollered at them with panic in their voice. "Teeth! From above!"


    The teeth that had splintered off from the auric barrier had been blown out of the monster''s maw. It looked like a hail of haphazard arrows falling down towards them, and Molam looked around frantically for a shield.


    "Jyuni, do we have a shield?!"


    But Jyuni had frozen. His memory shoved an answer forward; he had spent so much time riding with the Mursa that he hadn¡¯t been able to avoid passively cataloguing the sled¡¯s contents. No shield was forthcoming. Molam improvised. He tore the reins from Jyuni''s white knuckles and yanked sideways, pulling the camels sharply to the side. The sudden jerking tilted their sand sled over the dune and Molam tugged Jyuni towards the lower end, hoping their combined weight was enough to tip it over completely.


    Somewhere, Jyuyan''s voice shouted. "Everyone BRACE!"


    Molam tucked his head in just as they crashed onto the sands, his left hand clamped onto the sand sled lest he slide out of the makeshift cover. Jyuni had somehow caught on, also gripping tightly as they carried Mursa Shang between them. The hot grains seared his cheek and the weight of the sled itself strained his arm, but Molam did not let go.


    The very next moment, he heard the telltale sounds of the hail of teeth thudding into the bottom of the sled and striking the sand around them. Several tips poked through their cover, but none managed to reach them as they waited in horror for the deadly rain to finish. Molam couldn''t tell if he wanted to look at the thin piece of wood protecting him, or look away so he wouldn''t know if one pierced through. Jyuni was quietly chanting a hurried prayer to whichever God was listening.


    It could have been only mere moments, yet it felt as though they cowered underneath the sand sled forever before the sound of falling death faded. And still they stayed, no one willing to be the first to see if there were any stray projectiles taking their time to fall. Eventually, Molam could no longer bear the heat of the sand radiating against his back. He carefully lifted their makeshift shelter then peeked out, and was greeted by a ruin of carnage.


    The camels were dying on the ground from multiple piercings. Even if the Sandwurm venom was only paralyzing and not deadly, they would still perish from the blood loss alone. Several riders had been pierced too; their bodies lay there, self-inflicted gashes on their necks telling Molam they had found the courage to do what was necessary before the venom took hold. His eyes swiveled around, noting flashes of gleaming metal. The fighters that had shields had expanded them as much as possible, covering however many they could hide.


    Fully aware that the new wave of death was just one of their many problems, Molam confirmed there were no more errant teeth before he rolled out from beneath the sled, grimacing as the movement jostled his fractured arm. He knew they weren¡¯t out of danger yet. They were still beset by the Sandwurms, including the massive one. Having freed himself, he patted away the aggravating sand from his clothes before turning to appraise their sled. It was bristling from the teeth, and would clearly no longer serve its intended purpose.


    "Is it safe?" Jyuni''s voice came from beneath their makeshift shield.


    "To come out? Yes. But are we safe? No," Molam replied, helping shove the sand sled off the two women and the unconscious Mursa as much as he could with one working arm. "There''s still five Sandwurms somewhere, and a big¡ª"


    A thunderous bellow blared across the Sands, drawing his attention back up. The giant Sandwurm had reared its head again, with just three auric barriers holding down the rest of its body. Molam didn''t understand until he saw the other five Sandwurms thrashing about on the Sands, their long bodies held down by similar barriers. He surmised that the Shield must have divided his aura around each of them when the riders had fled the falling teeth. The distance between the Titled One and his targets would be taxing without having established a Domain.


    But now the large wurm was breaking free, twisting and turning its body to test the limits of its auric prison. Molam wasn''t certain how the barriers worked, but they seemed to be rooted to the spot where they were created. Raw strength met aura, and the prison began to warp, but did not yet break. The behemoth roared its frustration to the skies, the cry echoing across the barren landscape.


    "The Shield can''t hold them down forever!" shouted Rider Jyuyan, pulling up on his camel. Somehow, most of the Oasians had been spared from or managed to block the deadly hail. "We''re leaving! Jyuni, take your Mursa''s inheritance and get on my camel!"


    Jyuni didn''t make a move. "And the rest of our caravan?" she asked him coldly.


    "Your people have their sleds and camels," Jyuyan snapped back. "I''m already doing a tremendous favor for you mursashu by waiting for you. As long as the Title exists, you can rebuild ¡ª"


    "No," Jyuni answered forcefully, hugging her unconscious Mursa''s head. "The caravan stays as one."


    "You''re a fool!" Jyuyan shouted at her, waving away his other riders. "Go, go! The Shield can fend for himself, but our heads will roll if we don''t bring the jade back otherwise!" He glanced briefly at Molam before turning his attention back to Jyuni. "Steward Ryu had high expectations of you. She said you would become a good Mursa." A pleading note entered his voice. "Now, Jyuni. Say your goodbyes. Look around at your people. What is the most important thing you need to do at this very moment? Isn''t it to ensure the Title passed down through the ages survives through you?"


    Molam and Jyuni looked around at what they hadn''t paid attention to in front of the giant Sandwurm. The mursashu caravan had somehow found time to hide in the lee of a dune''s slope, mitigating the damage the fallen teeth could have done. But the tearful wails echoing towards them told a less hopeful story. Some of the projectiles must still have hit them.


    "I don''t need a Title to lead," Jyuni said, getting up and allowing the now recovered healer to take over the care of the Mursa for her. "I appreciate you, Rider Jyuyan. You are a true friend of the mursashu, but we cannot abandon what we brought here."


    "Jyuyan! We''re all ready!"


    The call came to them from far away, and the Oasian seemed to hesitate. He looked up at the skies, then swore furiously before he guided his camel closer to Jyuni. "Go back without me!" he shouted back at his men, adding, "if I don''t return, tell Steward Ryu I''m sorry for eating her pudding!"


    The men seemed to nod in unison, riding off without another word.


    "You don''t have to stay," Jyuni said, stunned. "Steward Ryu would never forgive us."


    "You shut up," Jyuyan muttered darkly at Jyuni. "You''re a stubborn and poor little idiot of an excuse for a future Mursa." His expression softened, then he added, "and Ryu will kill me if she finds out I ignored you. You''re going to need every spear."


    A loud thump reverberated throughout the ground, with sand exploding into the air. They looked up in alarm. The Sandwurm''s tail had broken free and it roared triumphantly, leveraging its tail and head against the ground to twist against the final binding.


    "The situation has changed!" shouted Jyuyan as he couched his spear. Molam stopped himself from looking around; if Primrose and Kalle were safe, they would find him. He and Jyuni had bigger problems to deal with, and a giant one too. "We''ll probably deal with the smaller wurms; the Shield won''t let the giant one reach us!"


    <hr>


    The Endless Sands, Primrose


    "Mursashu, ready yourselves!" Jyuni¡¯s projected voice echoed over the dunes in the same way Mursa Shang¡¯s did.


    But Primrose could only stare down at Meera while Kalle tried his best to tend to her. Meera''s breathing was quick and shallow while Kalle gingerly pulled out the tooth that had impaled her thigh.


    "Kalle," Meera pleaded. "My knife. Please."


    The movements of her limbs had already slowed. Primrose recognized the symptoms; the venom was moving up Meera''s body, delivered by her own veins with each beat of her heart.


    "Please, Primrose." Meera''s words began to slur. "You promised me."


    Primrose moved forward, but Kalle flung Meera''s knife far away where it landed blade-first into the sand. He stood up, his full height towering over Primrose. "No," the alchemist said, desperation in his voice. "There''s still time. We can still find another healer, who can neutralize the poison while I work on a cure, and then¡ª"


    Primrose could only gesture silently around them. Kalle wasn''t blind. The first healer had keeled over the second his aura flared. Somewhere, someone else was shouting that another healer had fainted. Judging by the sound of it, none of the healers were able to do their jobs.


    Kalle knew it too, and the man pulled down his mask to make his argument. "I can still slow the poison before it reaches the head," he said, tears in his eyes. "Primrose, please. I''ll just ice her neck, and then¡­ and then¡­ we just need time!"


    "This is the Endless Sands, Kalle." Primrose didn''t want to say anything, but Kalle refused to budge. A knife had found its way into her hand; the one she kept hidden on her lower back. "We owe it to Meera. Everyone deserves to die while they''re still human. Step aside if you won''t do it."


    Kalle''s limbs obeyed even if he wouldn''t. "Don''t move," Primrose forced through her teeth, not trusting Kalle to do something stupid. "You don''t have to look if you can''t stomach it."


    Only Meera''s eyes were moving now, her paralyzed body unable to even twitch. Primrose forced herself to look as she knelt down next to Meera, brushing a tender hand over the rider''s cheek.


    "I''m sorry," Primrose apologized as she readied the blade against Meera''s neck. "That all I can do for you is to end it before you lose yourself. I promise to make it painless." She felt numb, and curiously cold despite the heat of the Sun. A distant part of her mind wondered if the other mursashu nearby were having a similar feeling while doing the same for their injured. "Are you ready?"


    Meera''s eyes blinked twice, then a tear rolled down her cheek. She blinked again, slowly this time, then stared into Primrose''s eyes.


    Kalle howled at the skies. Primrose made it quick.


    And all around them flew streaks of gold.


    <hr>


    The Endless Sands, Molam


    Everything had gone wrong, but Molam was too inexperienced in the Sands to know what should be done, or whether anyone would even listen to him right now. He was still regretting his decision to push Mursa Shang to make this detour, blaming himself for wanting to see the Princess. He hadn''t even gotten to see her, and now so many were dead. That was the right way to look at it, he decided, as five Sandwurms charged at their unprepared and vulnerable group.


    His selfish choices had resulted in each of these avoidable deaths.


    Somehow, the Shield was injured. He had to be, judging by the Titled One''s difficulty with restraining the remaining Sandwurms. When, and how? he thought, racking his brain. What could have injured the Shield of Oasis? Even without their Domain, a Titled One specialized for combat should normally have no issue dealing with just these numbers. Unless the big one¡­?


    No, none of that mattered right now. Primrose and Kalle were somewhere else, hopefully safe and unharmed. But Molam had no idea what could be done in this situation. His arm guard was lost somewhere else and the feather within only worked for him in close proximity.


    The Sandwurms approached ruthlessly, their maws open in anticipation. The monsters knew ¡ª most of the riders no longer had camels, and without their mobility and speed the humans were unable to execute on their strategy. Death approached with a triumphant roar.


    Then a golden spear flew past Molam''s head, sinking into the maw of the wurm at the forefront. It seemed to shrug off the blow, only for a rain of perfect copies to follow the first projectile.


    The rest of the Sandwurms reared back, mouths closed, keening in fury. The first wurm to be struck lay twitching on the ground. One of the spears must have found the mass of brain matter inside it.


    "The Spear!" Jyuyan breathed in a hushed, almost awed voice. He pointed. Molam turned, following the direction of the gesture as a new host of Oasians rode up past the dunes. A woman with a golden spear rode at the forefront, her puffy hair pulled up into a tight series of jade rings behind her head.


    The Spear of Oasis pointed, and gold streaked through the air again. Countless spears rained down upon the Sandwurms, then it seemed Molam and Jyuyan remembered at the same time.


    "No Domain!" they shouted, waving their hands at the Spear of Oasis. "No Domain!"


    But it was too late. The Pyramid flashed golden, and the expanding aura honed in.

 Ch 83: SpearMarshal

    The more I study monsters, the more I feel inclined to believe Head Scholar Panmoru is too charitably kind.


    These things were created by demons to make humans suffer.


    Does everything have a right to live?


    ¡ª Note found in Scholar Jeff''s journal.


    <hr>


    Jyuni


    Jyuni wrung her hands helplessly, watching the healer Tasha stabilize her Mursa. Aura deficiency could be fixed with time or sharing aura, but the Mursa had suffered a blow to the head when they tumbled. Not to mention whatever damage the dragon''s Domain had done to him earlier.


    She looked up as Molam and Rider Jyuyan began shouting, realizing that another group of Oasians had arrived. Judging by the golden weapon brandished by the woman leading them, it could only be the Spear of Oasis herself.


    Then their hoarse yells registered in her ears.


    "No Domain! No Domain!"


    But it was too late. The Pyramid flashed gold, and the Spear of Oasis was caught unawares by the dragon''s Domain. They could only look on in vain as the dragon''s aura, reminiscent of the brightest ray of Sunlight, surrounded the SpearMarshal and sank into her body.


    Jyuyan leapt onto his camel, riding towards the new arrivals without another word.


    Jyuni watched the woman sway in her saddle as though drunk, her grip on her spear weakening. After a moment, she appeared to shake the effects off, and Jyuni¡¯s trepidation mixed with hope. The Spear of Oasis would be fine, right? The Titled One had merely been surprised by the Domain of a dragon that no one had expected to be there. Even without being able to use her full strength within the confines of the aura, the Spear still had the fresh riders she brought as reinforcements. The Sandwurms were formidable foes, but with the numbers the Oasians had, surely they could overcome this battle.


    Jyuni didn''t want to imagine how much the Stewards would charge them for benefiting from Oasis'' two Titled Ones. Forty thousand¡­ no. Probably sixty thousand buckets of water. Well, if Mursa Shang haggled¡­ no no no, Jyuni berated herself. What had he always taught her? Don''t assume you need to pay for something until they try to collect, but instead have all the excuses to not pay. And if paying is unavoidable, make them throw in extras because they just want the original payment. Yes, that was the right way to go about this.


    Molam began walking away in the middle of her thoughts. Jyuni asked, "where are you going? There''s nothing we can do to help right now!"


    "I know that," Molam replied to her, "I''m not going to waste my time waiting. I''m looking for my arm guard."


    <hr>


    Molam


    Seeing there was nothing he could do for either the Oasians or the mursashu, Molam took advantage of the ensuing chaos to retrace his steps, looking for his bracer. Or more importantly, the feather within, if just to stop the throbbing pain in his fractured arm. Everything had already gone poorly; what was pertinent now was preventing the situation from degenerating even further. And he would need every option at his disposal in order to do that.


    He still hadn''t found Primrose and Kalle, though he¡¯d thought he heard Kalle''s shouting earlier. Molam hoped they were uninjured. Primrose would be necessary if they ever meant to infiltrate the Upper Tiers. Kalle was the only alchemist he had, with skills that would be invaluable in any situation.


    Wait, that was the wrong way to think about it, he corrected himself. Molam didn''t care about them only because he had a use for them. He cared about Kalle because the man was a good friend. He appreciated Kalle''s thoughtfulness, and the way he channeled his skills towards more than just earning coin. Even if it did mean a bizarre obsession with fixing things, Molam understood Kalle''s thinking.


    And, of course, he cared about Primrose. She was a fierce protector, even if Molam felt put off by the occasional reminder that she had the skill to put a blade through his heart before he could even react. The fact that he no longer thought about it constantly when he was around her said something about how much he had come to trust her, right? Much more than the days in JiangXi, where he did his best to never be within arm''s reach of her.


    Yes. Their lives were important. Priestess Komura had told him to focus on making friends. This was the right way to think about it.


    The sight of silk robes and a soft face tore Molam from his thoughts. More importantly, he saw the bleeding from the gash in their right calf, and the Sandwurm tooth tossed to the side.


    "Cholani," Molam muttered, kneeling down next to the paralyzed mursashu. The venom had already taken hold, and Cholani was reduced to a set of blinking eyes. Molam looked up, but the call for help quickly died in his throat. There was no one else around, and Cholani must have been long past the point of saving if the venom''s effect had already robbed them of the ability to speak.


    Molam''s body moved of its own accord, against his wishes to ignore what needed to be done. He felt for a blade in Cholani''s pockets, first pulling out a bundle of cinnamon sticks. He pocketed that, then continued searching. Where was their dagger?


    "I don''t know what''s best to say, Cholani." Molam apologized, searching for the words as he also searched for the blade. What would a dying person want? What did he want, when he was a child? Kind words, accountability? He tried to recall what his village elder had said to him, or what he hadn¡¯t. "But I take full responsibility. I''m sorry. None of this was supposed to happen."


    The words seemed wooden coming out of his mouth, as though he couldn''t properly express what he needed to say. Stupid, stupid! He wasn''t the one dying, he was supposed to be the one giving comfort. Is that what a dying person would want to hear, apologies? Could he not do even this little task correctly?


    Then he noticed the orange feather, glowing in Cholani''s other hand. Molam rolled them over and found his bracer laying under their shoulder. That was when Molam saw the dropped knife. He pieced it together immediately; Cholani had hesitated. The mursashu had been torn between discovering Molam''s secret and doing the necessary deed. Perhaps they had thought they would have time to convey the discovery to someone else, to get the feather in another''s hands.


    But time had not been on Cholani''s side.


    Molam wasn¡¯t a fool. He knew why the Mursa had always kept Cholani around him, even back in JiangXi, when the Mursa had sent them to help Molam organize the City¡¯s ledgers. A mursashi of Cholani''s skills and experience, assigned to assist with someone else¡¯s¡ªsomeone who wasn¡¯t a mursashi¡ªbookkeeping? No, Cholani must have a secondary skill set, capable of finding out something deemed important enough by Mursa Shang to be worth divesting their valuable time. While the setup had been painfully obvious for both sides, the Mursa had been forced to risk it for the information. Molam had no doubt that Mursa Shang had wanted to learn any final secrets at the time, and now Cholani had found out about the feather.


    They knew Molam''s status as a red auramancer was just a farce.


    While Mursa Shang was bound to secrecy, Cholani was not.


    Molam reached for the knife. The metal hilt felt oddly cool in his hand, and the blade would fit neatly under Cholani''s chin. He didn''t know what to say when he looked into the mursashu''s eyes. What was that look? Accusation, sorrow, pain? Molam didn''t know. Why hadn¡¯t he bothered to learn more about Cholani? Did he keep his distance because of wariness, or was it something else? Just like with Jiovanni, he''d always felt there was always something more important, and so there had never been the time.


    The foreign thought confused him. Who was Jiovanni? Why was he thinking about a name on his list instead of dealing with the matter at hand? He looked down again, then exhaled.


    He tucked the feather into the arm guard, strapping it securely around his left arm.


    Yes, Cholani needed him now. This had nothing to do about silencing them.


    "I''ll end your suffering now, my friend."


    Molam didn''t know what to think as he did it, or how to feel. The only thought he had was a stray memory of someone once telling him to wipe the blood off a blade, lest it rust. He did so, more to have something to take his mind off what he had just done than anything else. By focusing his gaze at the now clean blade, there was no reason to look at Cholani.


    This wasn''t selfish or to save myself, he thought. It was necessary to kill them. That was kindness.


    He stopped himself, almost marveling at how ludicrous the words sounded. The reason they were in this situation was because of him. Each death here was because of him. They¡¯d had friends, families, futures, names. He had stripped all of that away, then had the gall to try to absolve himself.


    Cholani was simply the first name to be added to his ever-growing list of sins today.


    <hr>


    Jyuyan


    Jyuyan rode towards the Spear of Oasis as fast as his camel allowed, worried she had suffered an attack similar to the Shield of Oasis. But it seemed he didn''t need to be anxious about it. Multiple auric spears materialized around her, winking in and out of existence and doing complex maneuvers in the air. She was probably testing the limits of her aura while under the dragon''s Domain.


    "Rider Jyuyan," she greeted as he approached. "Fill me in. I only know so much from the rider you sent ahead. My brother is alive, but not moving. What happened after he angered the dragon?"


    "SpearMarshal," Jyuyan bowed his shaved head respectfully before answering. "We were escaping, then it seemed Mursa Shang saw us and thought we needed help. Things became complicated, and then the Sandwurms turned on the mursashu. The Shield said it was not right for us to throw our pursuers off on them, and took it upon himself to engage the giant Sandwurm." He paused, then added, "I think our ShieldMarshal was more injured by the dragon than he admitted."


    A dangerous sentiment, and one that Jyuyan wouldn''t have normally said out loud. His status as a Steward''s Rider didn''t give him immunity from making remarks that could weaken the image of Oasis'' Titled Ones. But the situation was dire and Jyuyan had already lost enough men today. He would rather risk the wurms than Ryu''s ire if he were to somehow return alive, but without two Titled Ones.


    The Spear seemed to ponder his words, then made her decision. "Jyuyan. Take two healers, water, and anything you need to go see my brother. If he''s struggling, bring him back. If he''s able, tell him I need him to force open the monster''s mouths. Do you understand? Get my brother to force open their mouths."


    Jyuyan nodded to show acknowledgement of the command, but added, "Healers won''t be necessary. In fact, healers should not use their aura within the dragon''s Domain. They will lose consciousness."


    The Spear frowned, then nodded. "That''s interesting. Understood. So it''s a matter of aura usage?"


    "Possibly," Jyuyan replied. "We haven''t been able to test the limits."


    "Then take the ones you need to support my brother, deliver my message, and bring him back."


    Jyuyan nodded at the order, then pointed at the riders he recognized. "You, you, and you. Darya, you too, don''t hide from me behind your shield. Jordyn, bring one more ¡ª I trust your judgment. I don''t care who. Bring three extra camels. Come when ready!"


    In a few moments, the others were prepared to move out. They brought a fresh camel for Jyuyan as well. As he mounted, he could see from the way their eyebrows furrowed behind their masks that they weren''t happy to be chosen, but they didn''t dare refuse when he was carrying out a direct order from the SpearMarshal. Even if it meant charging past four Sandwurms and approaching the largest behemoth they¡¯d ever seen.


    So Jyuyan responded to their trepidation in the only way he could. "SpearMarshal," he began respectfully. "We''ll need every hand we have to help the mursashu afterwards."


    His unasked question must have carried through, because the SpearMarshal responded, "I will support you. If my brother can force open their mouths, we can finish and maybe even be home before Sundown."


    How noncommittal of you, thought Jyuyan. But there was nothing he could do about her decision, and the SpearMarshal''s commands were to be obeyed. He looked over the riders he had selected, then nodded to them. Jyuyan memorized their faces, hoping this wouldn''t be the last time he saw them alive.


    "Our goal is to reach the ShieldMarshal and support him as necessary!" Jyuyan declared out loud, then flicked his reins. "Hyah!"


    The squad moved out behind him, with Jyuyan leading the formation. Their camels were fresh and the Shield was only a short distance away.


    The only complication was the four monsters rolling around in the Sands.


    Jyuyan opted to lead a straight formation, signaling with his hands for the seven of them to travel in a line of five camel pairs. They went forward, with Jyuyan eyeing each of the four monsters as they spasmed and shifted across the dunes, mentally charting the possible paths through and around them as he rode forth. Jyuyan watched each of them, recognizing he was running out of time to make a decision to take a wide berth around the fighting instead. They had to either weave through the messy fighting or risk arriving too late.


    Four monsters to track, their movements devastating, unpredictable, and deceptively fast. Five other squads to contend with for space, who were more predictable and intelligent, but they ran the risk of making similar yet conflicting decisions. And then the giant Sandwurm in the distance, held down by whatever strength the Shield of Oasis could currently muster ¡ª without a clear indicator for whether it would break free of its bonds again. There was also no telling if the monster would rain another hail of death upon them.


    He had to decide. Take the long way around, which may be a safer path. Or, reach the Shield as fast as possible, a choice that would be undoubtedly more dangerous.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    Jyuyan let out a stressed huff while he charged forward, adding the crest or trough of each dune to his path to minimize the chance of their camels needing to travel on the slopes and risk an injured hoof. There was just so much for a Rider to consider, and he wasn''t sure if he could think of them all while on the move.


    A careless mistake could break their formation. One wrong move had an incredibly high chance to get someone killed. And that was just with known information. Ryu always complained about there being no right decisions for a Steward, only ones that did the least damage. Jyuyan was tired of telling her that such is life, but wondered what she would pick here. Risk his riders, or risk being too late?


    In the end, he knew what they needed to do, as little as he liked that reality. Not all lives were created equal, and the Shield was a heart-wrenching reminder of that harsh fact. As much as Jyuyan cared for his comrades, the Titled One they were tasked to support were far more critical for the protection of Oasis than his riders were. With his mind still lingering on the memory of the Shield¡¯s grave injury in the dragon¡¯s pyramid, he made his decision.


    Jyuyan held up the rider hand signal to order a push forward. He led the way as close down the middle as possible, careful to pick paths that limited the possibility of a wurm''s movements impacting those that followed him. The other squads must have seen his approach, for they seemed to have adapted their trajectories to mitigate any chance of intersection, much to Jyuyan''s silent gratitude.


    But the Sandwurms did not seem to care. A large tail swung overhead. Jyuyan directed his riders down a dune''s trough in a hasty maneuver, with the last man and the extra camels narrowly dodging the swinging appendage. Before the tail had even cleared, he saw a rolling Sandwurm barreling down into the tiny valley, requiring a quick turn of their group back up the dune they had just rode down from. Jyuyan looked up and yanked hard on the reins before they fully crested the dune, ducking his head while tugging downwards on his reins so his camel wouldn''t lose its head to the tail''s backwards swipe.


    "Stop, stop, stop!"


    Somewhere nearby, a rider hadn''t stopped in time. Jyuyan heard the bleating of the camel as the rider was knocked down. He barely looked to confirm who it was. Toryuu. He''ll make it, hopefully. They couldn''t afford to slow down and risk losing more.


    "Forward!"


    Jyuyan crested the dune, riding hard on it for several breaths so the others could catch up. He took the time to look around, mentally registering where each threat was and how far they were to the Shield of Oasis. Three and a half dunes.


    And, of course, the giant Sandwurm held in place. He didn''t want to think about what would happen if the ShieldMarshal''s strength ran out before they reached him.


    So much for the promised help, he thought, casting a dubious glance at the SpearMarshal. Though Jyuyan couldn''t see her well at this distance, he could still see the multitude of glowing spears in the air above her. Why isn''t she helping us?


    One of his riders shouted at Jyuyan to take cover. He looked up, seeing the Sandwurm crawling up the other side of the dune to meet him, maw open slightly in anticipation.


    Oh, thought Jyuyan as fear and regret coursed through his body. Even if it was ambushing, it''s my fault I wasn''t paying attention. The mouth of the beast opened fully and Jyuyan dragged his reins to the side, knowing it didn''t matter. He hadn''t been carrying a shield, a fact the monster was more than willing to exploit.


    Golden spears streaked through the air, zipping right past him and flying straight into the monster''s hungry void. It reared backwards as though surprised, letting out a horrendous keening. Its movements became berserk, erratic, with the head knocking side to side. Each slam threatened to knock Jyuyan off his camel. It was all he could do to just stay on his mount, and he prayed to God Sholt that it was one which was well trained to keep its footing in battle.


    Moments later, the Sandwurm keeled over to the side, still twitching in its death throes. One more beast down, courtesy of the SpearMarshal. His other riders cheered, waving their hands ecstatically.


    But Jyuyan didn''t like how she used them as bait. Yes, there was little recourse if she couldn''t exert a full Domain to give her the strength to pierce the scales of a Sandwurm. He still didn''t like it, all the same. Perhaps it had something to do with how she didn''t tell them. That was the problem. Everyone today had demonstrated a lack of basic communication, starting from that blasted idiot deciding to approach the horned woman in the Black Pyramid without communicating that to anyone else.


    However, there was little time to dwell on this thought. He cleared the next dune and saw the ShieldMarshal standing there, deeply focused in concentration. The man was without his camel, possibly because it had died somewhere, but Jyuyan suspected he didn''t see a carcass because he had more likely let it run off to safety.


    "ShieldMarshal!" he shouted as he led his squad up to the Titled One. His camel was slowing down because he had pushed it too hard. Jyuyan hoped they wouldn''t need to do any more speedy maneuvers. He wasn''t sure the poor animal could keep up.


    The large man turned, the arm that had been injured in the pyramid dangling limply from his shoulder. What should have been free-flowing blood from the wound had already dried from the moisture-stripping heat. His dark skin seemed decorated with bright white flecks, which Jyuyan knew from experience to be crystallized salt from his sweat.


    "Jyuyan," came the Shield''s low voice. "Is my sister here?"


    "Yes," Jyuyan nodded. It would normally be improper for Jyuyan to address the Titled One while saddled, but he did not want to risk being on foot and the Shield was never one to care for decorum. "She asks for you to force open their mouths and she will deliver the killing blow, sir. If you cannot, we are to escort you back to the main host, where we will do our best to retreat."


    "Water?"


    Jyuyan unslung his own waterskin, handing it to the Titled One. "Someone come see whether we can dress his wounds until we bring him to a healer elsewhere," he shouted, but was immediately overruled.


    "Stay on your camels ¡ª all of you." The Shield of Oasis barked at the riders behind Jyuyan, who were in the midst of getting down. He then turned back towards the giant monster he kept imprisoned, sipping some of the water before speaking again. "I don''t have the strength to restrain them while forcing their mouths open. Jyuyan, if this fails, take your riders and leave. I want as many of you to survive as possible, understand? That''s an order."


    Those words alone reminded Jyuyan why he had agreed to come for the ShieldMarshal without much complaint. Jyuyan pressed his camel forward several steps with a knee. "With all due respect, ShieldMarshal," he bowed his head towards the Titled One. "We cannot afford to lose you. Steward Ryu would hang me by my ankles until my bones dried out."


    The Titled One sputtered out a bit of laughter. "She only picks on you because she knows you can do better. Don''t let the Steward down now."


    A golden spear flew towards them, burying itself in the sands. "And that''s my impatient sister," the ShieldMarshal muttered, resealing the waterskin. "Well, water doesn''t wait to flow downwards, and neither should we."


    "You should get on a camel, sir." Jyuyan beckoned to one of his men, the one responsible for bringing the three extra mounts. They whistled, and a camel trotted forward. He immediately regretted his decision when he realized the ShieldMaster was only able to use one arm, and a less charitable interpretation was that he was insulting the Titled One. "ShieldMarshal, I meant for the camel to help you ride with us in case things go awry. I only meant for ¡ª"


    "You''re fine." The Shield of Oasis pulled himself onto the camel''s back, clutching the reins with his good hand. "Stop acting like you''re wading through quicksand. You''ve been spending too much time with the Upper Tiers."


    A second golden spear buried itself in the sand.


    "Yes, yes," the Shield muttered, then looked towards Jyuyan. "I hope you and your riders are ready."


    Jyuyan and the rest nodded, albeit a bit reluctantly. Releasing the remaining Sandwurms was one thing; not allowing the giant one to make a move was another. So far, this had been a relatively contained ¡ª if unprepared for ¡ª disaster. The monsters left from the Eternal Night had wreaked more damage in the past, and Jyuyan wasn''t keen on seeing the situation worsen. If this didn''t work¡­


    "On your guard," said the Shield, then he pushed upwards with an open palm. The golden barriers restraining the wurms slid upwards on their bodies, forcing their heads to face up. In the next moment, the Shield had clenched his open hand into a firm first, then slowly forced his fingers to open, visibly wincing all the way.


    The remaining beasts thrashed about on the Sands, screeching wildly as their snarling mouths were forced open from the barrier within. They seemed to only just realize their bodies were now free; the giant one rolled over and turned its body in such a way for Jyuyan to know their group was the target.


    He yanked the reins to the side on instinct, the word emerging from his throat. "Ride¡ª!"


    Then a series of golden spears shot straight into the monsters'' mouths, their light resembling a flowing ribbon. The projectiles easily pierced through the backs of their heads. Each of them roared in furious pain, attempting to writhe, but only able to move their lower bodies. The ShieldMarshal grunted, listing to the side as his barriers kept the Sandwurms held in place. They fought his hold, then one by one they went limp. The large one died the slowest, bellowing its pain into the skies.


    "That was¡­ a lot easier than I thought?" Jyuyan breathed a confused sigh of relief. He could see why most armies deployed two Titled Ones; one for attack, one for defense. The Cannon and Vanguard strategy, made popular by a similar scheme in dragon chess. "Is it over, ShieldMarshal?"


    "They''re dead," the Shield confirmed, then frowned at his camel as he tugged at the reins with one hand. "I never appreciated it, but two hands are definitely better than one."


    Jyuyan gave him a wry grin, then loosened the cap of his waterskin and offered it to the man. "A job well done, Marshal."


    "I''ll return the favor," the man replied, accepting the waterskin with a nod. "Come find me after the expedition."


    Jyuyan waited, signaling to his squad that they should be patient. They''d accomplished their mission. The monsters were dead or dying with their brains pierced through. The only lasting concerns were whether the golden dragon inside the Pyramid would reappear, but it hadn''t followed them outside of its Lair. He could only hope it would stay there.


    Why, oh why, had Ryu insisted they do this job? Wasn''t the threat of disturbing a dragon more than enough?


    Then the ShieldMarshal dropped the waterskin, pushing an urgent hand upwards. Aura formed a barrier above them, then the man dragged his hand downwards to form the walls. Jyuyan barely had time to blink, looking upwards to see the falling teeth.


    Two thoughts went through his head.


    I get to live.


    Then,


    How many will die?


    <hr>


    Jyuni


    "They did it!" Jyuni jumped up as she saw the stream of golden spears pierce through the giant Sandwurm. She was ecstatic; there was no other word for it. Titled Ones indeed! Even limited by the dragon''s Domain, the Shield and Spear of Oasis were capable of working together to take down the monsters.


    "Stop jumping," her Mursa complained, nursing his head and drinking from her waterskin. "Didn''t I teach you to always retain your composure? And did you forget that the footing is always uneven on the Sands? You might twist an ankle."


    Jyuni caught herself mid-jump, landing on an awkward hop. "I''m sorry, Mursa. It''s just¡­ it was a hard fought battle."


    "No doubt, but celebrations can be done later. You were in the middle of filling me in: What else happened while I was out? And where are the healers?"


    Collecting herself again, Jyuni knelt down to speak to Mursa Shang. If you don''t know what face you''re supposed to present, then stay passive. Give out no information about your thoughts. "The first thing you should know is regarding the healers," she began after finding her passive face, hoping it would suffice. "Is that any attempt at healing causes them to also faint. It seems the amount of aura required to heal is enough to trigger the dragon''s Domain."


    "That''s not good." Mursa Shang''s face went dark, then he immediately added, "Which means¡­ the ones who are poisoned? They can''t¡­?"


    Jyuni shook her head, biting her lip behind her mask. The Mursa''s question evaporated her earlier excitement, replaced by the grim reminder of what had already transpired. Many had been poisoned. So many of her friends had been forced to wield the knife as a result. And she was supposed to stay calm? No, no, no, she chided herself. Mursa Shang had always taught her to regulate her emotions if she intended to be an effective Mursa one day. She had to stay calm.


    The others needed her to stay calm.


    "How many have we lost?" asked her Mursa in his soothing voice. Ever cool-headed. Mursa Shang always knew when it was right to place blame or responsibility, and when it was more important to look after his people.


    Nevertheless, Jyuni lowered her head. "I¡­ I don''t know the count yet," she admitted. "I''m sorry. I''m still taking it all in."


    Mursa Shang''s voice turned sharp. "What about the Dao?"


    Others would have thought the sudden change brusque. Not Jyuni ¡ª her Mursa had invested a great deal in the Dao. It would be a near incalculable loss for their caravan if the members of the Dao died. "As for Molam and his group¡­ I believe Primrose and Kalle joined a squad at Meera''s request. Molam¡­ walked away? I think he was searching for something."


    Her Mursa gave her a look, one that Jyuni only ever associated with mild disappointment. "I imagine it must have been a hectic situation for you to forget to track him, Jyuni."


    She lowered her head even further. "It''s as you say. I was more concerned with your health at the time."


    "Ha," Mursa Shang snorted, then flicked her forehead. She pulled back, bewildered at the light punishment. "You need to find the right balance. And not just in focusing on separate priorities, but also in how you seem to stay passive all the time."


    Jyuni pressed an indignant hand on her forehead. It didn''t hurt as much as it irritated her. How could he go from gentle, to sharp, to playful just like that? "You''re the one who ¡ª"


    "I know, I know." He held up a hand and lowered his head in mock forgiveness, then smiled slyly up at her. "I''m the one who taught you that exhibiting emotions can be a weakness, but it can also be a strong tool. Ah, maybe I''m just a poor teacher? I really wish you could have met Mursa Gailscha. She would have been able to teach you much better than I."


    Jyuni pressed her hand into his offered one, forgiving him despite this being the thousandth time he¡¯d weaponized his apparent "lack of teaching skills" against her soft heart. "Maybe you should practice with me some more," she said in her flattest voice. "Instead of making me watch you fumble with that Madam."


    "You''re still harping on about that?" Mursa Shang sighed at her. "You know, it was intended for you to learn the options available to women during a negotiation, things that I can''t really show you as a man. And you know it''s difficult for us to practice seriously these days; we know each other too well. Oh, I have quite the idea! When the time comes, you should practice dealing with Molam and ¡ª"


    Mursa Shang''s gaze jerked upwards, confusion crossing his face for a split second. Then his eyes widened, and he yanked Jyuni down towards him before she could even yelp, covering over her body with his own.


    "Wha ¡ª ?"


    She saw his hand stretch out, writing a rune of gold in the air in hurried strokes. The rune for protection had barely formed when the deadly hail rained down on them. Jyuni recognized the sound, even though it had been fairly different when she¡¯d been cowering under a wooden sled. This time, the sound was much more muted as the sharp objects bounced off of Mursa Shang''s back and arms.


    It seemed the rune of protection had worked. Mursa Shang had protected himself, the most important member of their caravan, and then used his body to shield her, the second most important one as the Mursa''s designated heir. She could immediately see the logic but wouldn''t have trusted herself to have thought it up in time, much less act upon it. Even if his rune had failed, the Mursa had enough aura as a Titled One to restrain the Sandwurm''s venom within his body.


    Jyuni couldn''t help but feel a renewed wave of admiration for the man who had fostered her and raised her to be who she was today; of course he would have come up with the most correct action in such a short amount of time.


    By the time the last deadly tooth buried itself into the Sands, Jyuni''s neck was beginning to cramp. Or at least, she attempted to focus on the soreness in her neck because she could not cover her ears; her mind had picked up the underlying sound of wailing, moaning, and screaming surrounding them. How many more were scrambling for their knives? Which of them were already paralyzed?


    "Get some water for yourself, Mursa." Jyuni tried to push herself up. "People need help!"


    "Jyuni, don''t." Mursa Shang warned her, but she shrugged him off. "We don''t know if ¡ª"


    "No, you don''t understand!" She stumbled to her feet, shaking off the Sands. Countless numbers of the sharp teeth were buried in the dunes. Most of them laid on their sides, but several were sticking upwards like a reed; if reeds were this dangerous. "There''s only so much time to hear someone''s last words!"


    "You can''t help them! Stay here, your Mursa has spoken!"


    Jyuni pulled out her blade, wiggling out of the small ditch they were in. She peeked up at the bright sky, then turned to him. "There''s nothing else falling, and I''m not a child to be looked after anymore," she chided him, trudging upwards. "The danger is over, and your people¡ª"


    The sand underneath her feet caved in. Jyuni fell forward with her arms flailing on instinct, trying to stabilize herself without falling onto several of the Sandwurm teeth. She managed to twist her body to the side, stopping her fall with a hastily thrown out hand.


    "There. You see?" Mursa Shang tutted. "You need to take care of yourself first before you can help anyone else. You haven''t mastered controlling your emotions yet, which will always have a negative impact on your decisions. This is why I''m so¡­ Jyuni?"


    Jyuni turned around, trying to still her beating heart. She raised the hand that had cushioned her fall, showing him the bleeding gash from her wound.


    Mursa Shang''s face went white, looking beyond her to see the red staining the Sands, and the half-buried tooth that had just sealed Jyuni''s fate.

 Ch 84: Mursa

    I will die tomorrow.


    And yet I have not finalized the necessary preparations for Nettie after I am gone.


    Is it denial? Does this subtle reluctance to act stem from a belief that it will delay the inevitable? Perhaps I subconsciously believe preparation is acknowledgement?


    We live our lives as though God Yven will forget to inscribe our names in his ledger.


    Why is that?


    ¡ª Excerpt from the journal of Flangel the Wise. Last Entry.


    <hr>


    Jyuni


    It was customary for the mursashu of Shang''s caravan to be given an experience with Sandwurm venom so they recognized the symptoms. Jyuni had no illusions as to what was causing the sensation¡ªthe gash on her palm throbbed, a blaze of pain that still couldn¡¯t overshadow the ice-cold feeling of her arm locking up.


    She could feel it creeping through her veins. She fought to breathe, but she didn''t rip her mask off as she vainly tried to quell the rising panic in her chest.


    She was already on her fourth breath.


    "Mursa," she choked out, laying down on her back as she had been taught. There were many stories of people who could have been saved, but failed to lie down safely before the paralysis set in, resulting in a twisted neck during the fall.


    Mursa Shang scrambled to her, his composed visage dropping from his pale face. "Jyuni. Jyuni. Oh Gods, Jyuni."


    She reached towards her knife, dropped in the Sands when she had fallen. She reached in vain. "My blade," she whimpered, trying to delay her next breath. It would be her sixth.


    "Mursa, it''s great to see you are awake again." A voice. Jyuni recognized it. Choji''s. She wanted to turn her neck, but her body wouldn''t move. Her eyes shifted, but she had turned her face towards her knife and Choji was on the other side. "I regret to inform you that the earlier attack had¡­ Oh. Is that Jyuni?"


    Silence. Then, a gentle hand turned Jyuni''s head up, and she could see Mursa Shang''s face again. His black hair had become oily, probably due to the minimal amount of washing they could do while traveling. But his dark eyes, full of worry, seemed to harden in resolve.


    Choji loomed into view, presenting the dropped knife to Mursa Shang with both hands. "Here is her knife, Mursa."


    "Thank you, Choji. But it will not be needed."


    What? thought Jyuni, almost choking on her eighth breath. Of course it would be needed! The healers couldn''t stop the poison anymore. Did Mursa Shang intend to kill her some other way? Surely, hopefully, he wouldn''t condemn her to live out her life as one of those horrific, twisted things.


    "I don''t understand," said Choji. He looked down at Jyuni, who blinked rapidly at her friend. Yes, tell him! "Did Jyuni not tell you the healers cannot circulate their aura for healing without being affected by the dragon''s Domain?"


    "No, I am aware." Mursa Shang''s voice became low, soothing. "Choji, gather several more of our people. Enough to be witnesses."


    "Mursa, I don''t think ¡ª"


    "Choji." The Mursa''s voice became firm. "Your Mursa has spoken."


    No, don''t! Jyuni wanted to say, but her mouth would not move. All that came out was a muffled whimpering. Please don''t let him do this, Choji! You know what it means if he asks for witnesses.


    But Choji could not hear her silent pleading, and disappeared from her view, leaving her alone with Mursa Shang. The man brought up her left arm and pulled down her sleeve, revealing the tattoo he had inscribed on her arm the day he¡¯d chosen her as his successor.


    "You listen well most of the time," he said softly as he brought up a glowing finger to trace the intricate lines. The auric ink glowed in response, coming to life in his wake. "But when it comes to certain things, you tend to act without thinking. Not that I consider it a sin to have emotions or attachments; I have them too. I just¡­ I just hope that this will be the last time you forget to keep your composure, my silly apprentice. Never jump into anything without having confidence you can come out unharmed."


    Choji''s head bobbed back into view behind Mursa Shang''s shoulder. "I have five with me, Mursa." Jyuni saw Gyota, the mursashi of buying and selling, and Teyasu, part of Choji''s mursasho. Their faces were somber. No doubt Choji had already informed them why they were gathered.


    "Mursa," said a voice. Rovena, the mursashi who oversaw travel. "This decision seems poorly timed. We have just lost a third of our people, and when we enter Oasis, we have to contend with the Stewards. Doing this now, of all times, would not set Jyuni up for success. I understand how you feel, but ¡ª"


    "Rovena." It was only a word, but the mursashi¡¯s sentence cut off as though she¡¯d been slapped. The misgivings on the others'' faces immediately melted into shame. Everyone had clearly wanted to argue, but the dangerous tone that entered the Mursa¡¯s voice stopped them in their tracks.


    No! Jyuni screamed in her head, for her mouth would no longer move. She tried communicating with her eyes instead. Please, Rovena. I''ve never heard you walk away from a fight. Gyota. Teyasu! Choji, please. Someone stop him! I never¡­ I didn''t want to¡­ it''s my fault! And now this?! This was beyond her tenth breath; the venom had already seized most of her body. If things progressed any further, her body would slowly and painfully mutate into a Sandwurm over the next few days.


    Before there were any more complaints, Mursa Shang stated, "all of you will bear witness."


    "Aye," they muttered in unison.


    "Teyasu."


    "...Aye," said Teyasu, who seemed to realize he couldn''t hide behind Gyota any longer. "I bear witness."


    "I am forever grateful to each of you for having served our people faithfully with your expertise and wisdom," said Mursa Shang. He''d finished tracing her tattoo, and the design glowed brilliantly on her arm. "And I understand it is selfish of me to ask, but I will regardless: Please serve and guide Jyuni in the challenges ahead. She can be stubborn and foolhardy at times, I admit. But each of you have taken part in her education, and each of you have told me I did not choose poorly. I hope you don''t hold a grudge against her, for this is my decision ¡ª and my decision alone." He stopped, then looked up at the gathered mursashu, and said simply, "Please be generous in your counsel with Jyuni. Mursa has asked."


    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    The mursashu glanced at each other in uncomfortable silence. Then Rovena knelt down with Mursa Shang, clapped a hand on his shoulder, and chuckled. "I''ll tell her off for both of us, then. Someone has to do your share, right?"


    Gyota joined in. "I''ll make sure to yell at her if she burns the midnight oil."


    Amazingly, Teyasu spoke up too. "Jyuni still can''t beat me when it comes to attention to detail, so of course! How else will she improve without anyone to point out her mistakes to her?"


    No, Jyuni begged as the remaining witnesses joined in. No. Please. None of you should be reassuring him right now. None of you! All of you should be telling him to leave me be! He can always choose another successor!


    They stepped back as Mursa Shang shook out his right sleeve, tapping his own tattoo. It glowed to life, golden aura running along the bold black lines in an endless stream.


    "I am grateful to have called you my family," said Mursa Shang. "These are my final instructions. Keeping the Dao on our side is the key to balancing ourselves between the Empire and the Free Cities. Remember our ultimate goal is to help Molam so we can help ourselves¡ªdon''t be afraid to give him what he wants, just be certain you''re always prioritizing our survival." He spoke as though he was addressing the others, but he stared straight down at Jyuni. "We''re useful to Molam now, but don''t forget he has other goals beyond what he needs to do in the Sands. I expect him to reevaluate our partnership the moment he upholds his end of the deal and we resettle a cleansed Mur. I don''t think he''s the type to exploit us; if nothing else, he knows our caravan is the closest thing he has to an ally in Oasis. It''s possible I''m wrong, but I''ve set the necessary groundwork to ensure our relationship doesn''t devolve to something we merely tolerate." He fell silent for a moment, then spoke again. "The journey doesn''t end when we restore Mur. The fight after that matters too; not just with the other Mursa, but with the other Cities who might want our resources."


    He pulled Jyuni''s torso onto his lap, then brought up her left arm, pressing their tattoos together before continuing. "Next, remember to never underestimate the Stewards, but Steward Ryu can be trusted to keep her word. As a young Steward, she needs allies too. Also, Mursa Khan and Allyce may try to influence you. If push comes to shove, pick Mursa Khan''s side to keep Mursa Allyce in check. Well, I''m sure you know that much, at least."


    Golden aura flowed inexorably from Mursa Shang''s tattoo towards her own. Warm aura suffused Jyuni''s body, more than she had ever felt in her lifetime. She almost felt ecstatic. The closest thing she could compare it to was that one time she¡¯d drunk too many cups of Formosan coffee, but without any of the anxiety.


    And, more importantly, it was beating back the ice in her veins.


    Mursa Shang leaned down, brushing some hair away from her face. "Finally, take care of your health. I know you don''t rest enough when your moon cycle comes, but no one will begrudge you for looking after your body. You do your best work when you are rested." Another pause. Her throat worked, but no sound came. "Also, drink more water instead of living off coffee, I''m certain it''s ruining your sleeping schedule. Oh, and if you do dabble with paramours, get a steady supply of yakshur tea. Rovena knows what I''m talking about."


    The last of Mursa Shang''s aura drained into Jyuni as she finally found the strength to move. She pushed herself up, catching Mursa Shang''s head on her shoulder as he collapsed forward, breathing heavily.


    "Mursa," she choked out, at last. Even through the tears of her blurry vision, Jyuni could see the ritual of successorship had drained him of all his vitality. Mursa Shang, who had always looked relatively middle-aged and strong, had visibly aged to become an old man.


    "Don''t cry." His dim eyes looked up at her as a frail thumb wiped away her tears. "You are Mursa now."


    But Jyuni sobbed, at first silently, then, as her body shook off the last memories of its paralysis, she choked on her breath and started bawling. She brushed her fingers over Mursa Shang''s, trying to focus on the peaceful expression he wore through her blurred vision. She needed to memorize his face. She needed to¡ª


    "Jyuni?"


    Jyuni looked up, trying to blink away her tears. "Gyota?" There were too many, and she rubbed them away with her arm.


    It was a mistake. The glowing aura on her tattoo flashed visibly in front of the gathered mursashu. She was so overwhelmed with grief that she hadn¡¯t even noticed the light it was emitting.


    Gyota seemed unsure of how to react at first, then knelt down and lowered his head. "My apologies. I greet our Mursa."


    Part of her was braced for this, but she still felt a stab of shock as the others followed his lead.


    "Mursa Jyuni. Your instructions?"


    Mursa Jyuni. The familiar Title weighed on her in a way even Sandwurm poison could not; a sinking feeling in her chest, unalleviated by the aura surging through her body. She''d whispered it to herself before, and even joked about it with her friends. But now that it was real, it felt completely hollow.


    She didn''t have a right to this Title.


    Was this why Mursa Shang rarely talked about Mursa Gailscha? Did he also mourn her absence every time he looked at his own tattoo? Jyuni gazed down at Mursa Shang''s withered body, then pressed her dry lips to his forehead. How could he look so serene, having left her so distraught?


    "Mursa Shang needs to rest now. Find the members of the Dao. Bring them to me." She paused. Was that how he would have said it? She wanted to lower her voice, as though that somehow gave her a more imposing tone, but chose not to. He would have told her to do things her way. Instead, she announced slower and more deliberately:


    "Mursa has spoken."


    <hr>


    Molam


    Primrose and Kalle found Molam still cradling Cholani''s head. Their neck wound had already dried up, leaving dark reddish-brown streaks on his legs.


    A sharp intake of breath from Kalle. "Cholani? So much blood! What will we do? First Meera, then Jyuni, and now Cholani ¡ª"


    Primrose held a hand up to Kalle''s chest, silencing him with a sharp look. "Molam, are you able to talk?"


    Jyuni, was it? Then¡­ "Is Mursa Shang dead?" Molam answered with a question. He closed his eyes, still trying to understand what Cholani''s last look had meant. It was not an expression of fear. The wideness of their eyes¡­ Surprise? No, their eyebrows had been too relaxed. Although that could have been due to the Sandwurm toxin. Malice? No; he had read no accusation, no indignation. Cholani had been a respected mursashi, and though Molam had only barely known them, he''d come to suspect that Cholani had possessed the skills to become chosen as a Mursa if they¡¯d wanted. And the most important skill any mursashu honed¡­


    Had that look been¡­ understanding?


    "Yes," Primrose replied, kneeling down on the Sands next to Molam. He stiffened, but she didn''t move closer. Instead, she merely added, "the Mursa¡­ well, they''re conducting the inheritance ceremony right now. How did you know?"


    "Mursa Shang would never let Jyuni die on his watch," he answered simply. The mursashu had been observing their trio, and Molam had been doing the reverse. As much as the man had tried to stay casually aloof, Molam''s gamble by summoning Fiery One had been all the proof he needed to confirm that the Mursa¡¯s apprentice was one of his biggest weaknesses. After Kalle¡¯s lamenting about Jyuni, it wasn¡¯t difficult to guess the resulting sequence of events.


    Molam just hadn¡¯t expected things to have played out the way that they did. His thoughts were still jumbled, trying to deal with what he had just done on top of trying to understand the current situation they''d found themselves in. The sheer amount of chaos within such a short amount of time was still proving quite difficult for him to wrap his head around successfully.


    "What else has happened?" Molam appreciated that Primrose had yet to reach out to him, instead just choosing to make her presence known. Perhaps that was best; his left hand fingers were still clenched around the crown of Cholani''s head. The other hand was coated in dried blood, having done its best to stem the flow caused by the wound he''d sliced open. Yes¡­ that was it. The same hand wielding the knife had been the one trying to stop the outflow of blood. No doubt Cholani would have found the sudden shift hilarious, if they hadn''t been paralyzed and bleeding out.


    "The Spear and Shield of Oasis came together to kill the remaining Sandwurms. Now¡­ the Oasians are helping the mursashu salvage what they can. It seems Jyuni is undergoing the ritual to receive Mursa Shang''s Title." Primrose hesitated, then asked, "will we join the combined hosts?"


    Molam looked up at her, and she blinked and looked away for a brief moment, her focus falling on the discarded knife before her eyes quickly flicked back to his face. He noticed her attention wavered, but didn''t pay it any mind. The silence between them dragged on before he looked at Kalle towering above, drinking greedily from his waterskin.


    "Of course we''re joining them," Molam finally answered. He pushed away Cholani''s body, burying his hand in the Sand to try and scrape off the dried blood. The heat seared at his skin, but Molam didn''t care. Why wouldn''t Cholani''s blood scrub off?


    "Don''t lose sight of our goal, understand? We''re here for jade. That''s all that matters." He pushed himself to his feet, brushing the remaining sand off his clothes. Once he was satisfied, he turned to a pale-faced Primrose and Kalle. "A few matters have¡­ changed, but we''re finally going to reach Oasis."

 Ninth Interlude

    Letter found in Flangel the Wise''s journal. Dated two years ago, the 1423rd year of the Sun.


    <hr>


    Flangyl,


    It has indeed been far too long since I last received a letter from you. My aides tell me that it has been a whole decade, though I scarcely believe it. Time seems to slip away unnoticed when I think of how often we used to exchange correspondence. Those were simpler days, were they not? A more insecure friend might wonder if they had been forgotten, but I, of course, am not so foolish as to let such thoughts linger. Still, one cannot help but wonder at the silence.


    Yes, yes. I know what you are indubitably thinking right now. "How convenient the timing. Clayton must have heard about Netty." And to answer: I have. Now, before you accuse me of reaching out only for that reason, let me first offer my congratulations¡ªalbeit belated¡ªon your granddaughter being named the Prodigy. A most impressive achievement, though I suspect my letter will arrive well after the official celebrations have ended. Nevertheless, this news has certainly been cause for reflection on my end. It warms my heart to know that the legacy of such a Title is now passed to an Oasian, particularly one from your own bloodline.


    But I digress. There is a matter of greater import that weighs on my mind, one that I must address before I let my thoughts wander further. What is this I hear about Netty going without the "y" in her name? Surely this was not your idea? I understand that we live in a world where many wish to forget or downplay their origins, but surely you¡ªof all people¡ªmust recognize the folly in trying to sever ties with our history. To erase the "y" from her name, to conceal her roots, to deny her Oasian heritage¡ªit seems utterly ridiculous. You know as well as I do that the very essence of who we are cannot be hidden, no matter how one might try. It is in our blood, in our bones, and it will always find its way to the surface. You are too wise to be led astray by misguided notions. I know you have lived far from our homeland, but you cannot abandon it, and neither should she. Oasis needs her, just as it needs you.


    And this is the main reason I am writing to you. Not for Netty, but to ask for you to come home. Oasis needs you. Your home needs you.


    I must admit, when you left, I thought your departure was unjustifiable. I may have been wrong, but my feeling then was that you ran from us, perhaps out of fear of the future that seemed to await us. But now, after three centuries, I can no longer be so kind in my judgment. You left us. And I believe¡ªthough you may take offense at my bluntness¡ªthat you did so to clear your conscience, to rid yourself of the weight of a responsibility you could not bear. That was then, and this is now. We stand at a crossroads.


    The same issues that plagued us when you fled are still with us, perhaps even worse. The water shortage continues to be our most dire problem, and while I have done all I can to alleviate the crisis, the future we feared has arrived. The people of Oasis are still facing the looming threat of starvation, and the promise of water remains elusive. The Lord has charged us, the Stewards, to seek solutions, but our attempts have yielded little beyond temporary relief. The pressure mounts as the demand grows, and I fear for the very future of our people.


    If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    To that end, I have begun the distasteful negotiations with the Empire of the Sun in order to seek help. The Chancellor has seemed quite sympathetic during our correspondence.


    However, I do not put it past the Bloody Prince''s reputation to leave us to our predicament. It is not too late for you to return. You still have a chance to apply your greatest invention for good. The SunFlower could provide all of the aura we need for efficiently recycling what meager water we have, and from there we can do so much more. You could be known as the man who helped Oasis overcome its limitations.


    I am not blind to the cost of your decision, nor am I ignorant of the sacrifices it would entail. But I am asking you, Flangyl, as both a friend and a fellow Oasian: Return. The stakes could not be higher.


    On a more personal note, I feel compelled to remind you of the suffering we are enduring. There are those who call it "blood jade," in reference to the cost we bear in our pursuit of resources. But I find it to be a misnomer. The greatest strides humanity has made were never achieved without sacrifice. We all bleed for progress, and that is what we are doing now. I do not ask you to overlook the price we pay, but to consider the greater good we can achieve together. You have the means to change everything. You have only to choose to act. Why hinder progress with negative connotations? It certainly has not stopped you from buying jade, and I hear you have been hard at work advancing the realms of alchemy.


    If you need a reminder of what it means to stay stubborn, I will see to it that the mursashu deliver a list of the death tolls to you with each shipment of jade.


    Looking at what I have written so far, I can see that I indulged too much in giving you a piece of my mind. So here is the hand of friendship: I will see to it that any of your requests are met, including all the processed jade you could want. I know half of Techoria''s yearly import of jade is being routed to your workshop, and I will see to it that this continues. Additionally, your granddaughter will have all she could ever want or desire. Our Lord is keen on nurturing the newest Prodigy''s talents. I believe he intends to adopt her as a foster daughter if you would allow it. I am certain you understand the value for her if she grows up under the Lord''s care.


    I am also certain you will find these arrangements acceptable, and I am always happy to make more accommodations for you. There is a cask of moonwine I have yet to open because it has your name on it.


    Your old friend,


    Clayton


    Steward of Oasis


    P.S. I understand you alchemists have somehow all developed a horrible naming sense, but I confess my surprise that you have yet to rename Techoria after our last correspondence. I can only imagine you enlisted a child''s sense for onomastics. Have you considered why Zaem can attract more talent despite their Council not having an alchemist of your reputation? Their Council was wise enough to enlist a Scholar of onomatology, one who promptly rejected their idea to name their City "Machinima." Can you imagine?


    Before you return, please consider spearheading a name change. This is an honest plea from a friend. I wince every time I see it on my map.