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Chapter Text

I could barely feel the rain upon my face, soaking my once long and illustrious hair, caked and matted with mud and sweat. It was hard to feel anything, at this moment. My will was spent to the last scrap, like the silver for the flagon in my hand; my mind was empty, like the flagon in my hand.

I suppose then, it was rather fortunate I could barely feel my nose break when the fist impacted my face like a meaty bludgeon. White-hot flashes of pain made my vision blurred and my breath became heavy, distorted.

"Not so tough now are you?" A vicious snorting voice spoke to me as my body was forced to stand, held back by two thick arms. My robe, once clean and immaculate but now dirty and torn, became smeared by my own dribbling blood. My shattered nose felt like two red-hot pokers had been stuffed up inside, touching and tickling the back of my fluttering eyeballs. Whoever or whatever was in front of me was nothing more than a blurry image, though they were thuggishly brutish if their voice and particular manner of greeting was anything to go by.

Another punch, another blossom of searing pain screaming out of my busted and bloody cheek. If the burning taste of my heavy drink hid the flavour of blood and mucus before, it couldn't any longer. A slimy metallic tang sprang on my tongue and the back of my throat, crawling down to my stomach. The sensation was enough to make a normal man sick.

I heard the sneering laughter around me, three or four belligerents in total. Or eight. It was somewhat difficult to hear through the incessant ringing in my ears.

It didn't really matter. None of it did.

My hair was pulled up by the roots and I was forced to suffer the indignity of a man pushing his face closer to mine, "You little whoreson. Not so big and tough without that little toothpick of yers."

The oh so familiar sound of sharpened steel scraping against a sheath resounded out of the air, though I felt no blade upon my skin. I heard a low whistle and another voice speak up on the periphery of my blurred vision, "A pretty thing as well. Could fetch something good for this, ya know?"

"Tell ya what," The same sneering voice was close now, right up against my bleeding ear and the painful tingling of my scalp was given a tight tug, "Give us what ya have, yer valuables and the like. And maybe, just maybe, I'll only break an arm and a leg. Don't and I'll gouge out your eyes so I'm the last thing you'll ever see."

That would be rather difficult because I couldn't even see whoever it was that was currently threatening me. Maybe it was the rain, maybe it was the burning tears of pain or maybe it was the simple fact that my empty flagon was a bigger worry for me than the possibility of dying.

Even so. It would be beneath me to remain silent after such an inviting and warm offer.

It was with the utmost grace and the deepest of contempt that I spat in my attacker's face.

The screech of steel clashing against steel echoed in the mild air. The bright sun caused a gleam on the edge of my blade, straight-edged and true. My hands gripped the black handle, wrapped tightly with ornamental fabric, so each blow exchanged wouldn't tear my blade from my sweaty palms.

My opponent was a young woman, her beautiful expression twisted into a snarling grimace as we locked blades once more. Her hair of flaming red matched the colour of her cheeks which could've been considered quite cute if she wasn't currently trying to kill me. Though I loomed over her, she had the fuming presence of a raging dragon.

It took more effort than I would like to admit to keep my expression contemplatively bored as I broke the stalemate between me and her, letting the momentum of her weight fall forward. Like a grasping newborn, she tried to take me down with her but I responded with a practised dodge to the side and with my lacquered sheath in my other hand, I smacked down on her exposed back and forced her down to the floor in an ungrateful clatter.

"Slow," I spoke out and that single word seemed to cause a ripple in the gathered crowd. A low murmur broke out, whispered amongst themselves as if they were gossiping housewives rather than students and disciples of a mistress of the blade.

The kneeling woman had her back turned to me but her shaking shoulders reminded me of an earthquake bubbling beneath Creation's crust.

"Slow and predictable," I carried on and the air around me grew hot as I planted my feet and kept my blade up, "You are quick to strike but slow to adept. Quick to jump-"

It will never cease to both amaze and amuse me how some simple banter could set a fire underneath the Children of Hesiesh. Their blood boils like bubbling oil, even in calmer times and it made them pathetically easy to rile up.

My planted feet and rigid body was the only thing that kept me from tumbling over. I was getting uncomfortably hot as this small but fiery, tan-skinned woman pressed up against me for all of the entirely wrong reasons. Her reddish eyes blazed with hate and puffs of black smoke escaped through her gritted teeth as sparks flew between our locked blades.

"I'm going to cut out your impertinent tongue, Luo, and string you up by your damned guts!" The small woman bared her white teeth at me and I could feel sweat drip down my brow at the meteoric rise in heat.

It would probably be best to stop taunting her.

"I would ask that you don't. I'm quite attached to it as are some of my lady friends," I couldn't keep the almost petulant whine out of my voice despite my best efforts and I saw her eye twitch as we exchanged blows, each one making the bones in my arms shudder painfully.

Fire Aspects. What an unruly clutch.

Her blade struck mine again and again and I found myself getting pushed back. Her blows were like an avalanche while mine were like a hurricane, swift and terrible. I felt each blow resound deeply into my bones, each one sapping a tiny part of my strength to carry on.

And each time, I would grit my teeth and tighten my jaw, even as the air grew blistering hot.

One strike turned into two, two into four and four into eight. Eight into sixteen and sixteen into thirty-two. Time slipped past me into an invisible stream beyond me as I felt my palms grow sweaty and my brow became drenched from the broiling air. Rather than meeting her blow for blow, I was swiftly finding myself only to block and parry.

It was on the thirty-third strike that she let out a powerful, almost feral growl and the sparks that leapt from our locked blades became like little suns; blinding and blistering. My eyes closed instinctively, flinching and my heart leapt in my chest.

Stupid girl.

Instinct and finely honed skill guided me. Phantom images in my mind of the seconds before she used that wretched Charm allowed me to at the very least raise my blade in one last attempt to defend myself.

I felt something tap against my own blade and I knew the fight was over. I allowed myself the respite of smiling which I didn't bother to hide, even as my eyesight slowly but surely returned to me.

In front of me stood another woman but to compare this wild slathering beast to the calm tempest in front of me would be rather petty and ill-mannered.

She was grace to the frothing berserker in front of me. Whereas the small Fire Aspect had hair of flaming red that seemed to smoulder with unbidden rage, the short-cropped black hair and pale skin of the older woman stood tall and proud. Compared to us, her robe was embroidered with golden silk threads and turquoise tassels. Her blade was long, far too long to be handled by mortal men, made out of deep black jade and yet she handled it with ease and skill. The handle was a winding oaken wood and the golden pommel were like swirling waves.

"That is quite enough of that," She spoke with a softness that was almost motherly but the command was clear and cut like a polished jewel. The Fire Aspect's rage seem to quell beneath the soothing presence of our sifu. The only sign of her draconic blessing was the faint smell of the salty ocean breeze that accompanied her wake and the soft blue eyes that glanced between me and the small woman.

"Cathak Trella, as per the rules agreed between you and Luo, you are the loser of this duel," She spoke, planting the sharp tip of her black blade with the certainty of a royal queen and looking at the two of us with a crisp, clear gaze.

"Thank you, sifu," I bowed deeply at the waist, placing my closed fist upon my open palm in greeting. The Fire Aspect followed suit, messily I might add, and her deep gulps of air reminded me of a warthog that was out of breath.

My eyes shifted over to the Fire Aspect, her entire posture rigid and tightly wound much like a coiled spring pressed to its breaking point. Slowly, she raised from her bowing posture and turned to face me, her flushed expression and tight jaw meeting my no doubt welcoming, friendly smile.

"We could do this in private if you would like, Trella," I offered to her and my smile grew as her eyes of ruby red flashed dangerously. The blade in her grip, the edge chipped and dented from the battering it just took. I glanced down at mine and my bright smile threatened to turn into a dark look at the state of my own blade.

I stopped myself and turned my attention back to the trollop in front of me.

"Luo-"

"Elder brother Luo," I interrupted her with a chiding tone one would use with an unruly child and I wondered if she was going to crack her teeth if she kept grinding them against each other.

I wasn't doing anything wrong. In dojos, there was seniority to take heed of and this raging mare in front of me joined just a week ago. There had to be proper respect paid to one's elders, after all.

"Elder brother Luo," She spat out the words like they were bitter pips of an overripe fruit, "I...apologize for my words."

"Hmmm," I hummed out, glancing down at my blade once again. In the middle was a single, almost imperceptible small chip on the exquisite blade and its once straight and narrow edge had a slight bend to it.

My sifu caught my eye and she closed her eyes slowly, letting out a pained but soft sight.

"I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific, Trella. Your elder brother has quite a short memory and I don't remember what it is that you said. Could you do me the favour of saying why you're sorry?" My smile, though no doubt still charming, took an apologetic shine even as her cheeks turned flaming red.

The trollop glanced at our sifu who simply remained silent at the silent plea. I see her physically bristle at me, her lips making a thin line as she looked up at me with smouldering eyes of anger.

"I am sorry," She bit out each and every word, her grip trembling and her knuckles bone-white, "That I called you pompous. Elder brother."

"Ah, thank you but is that truly all? I think I remember some other hurtful things..." I trailed off deliberately, allowing a smidgen of enjoyment to show through my smile as her contorted expression twisted even further.

"I am also sorry," It truly was something to hear someone sound choked no from sorrow but from burning anger, "That I called you weak. A cheat, a fool, a horny mutt, a disgrace to the entire sect, a crippled little speck of dust that doesn't deserve to be named-!"

"Trella," Sifu's softly spoken word held the razor edge of a drawn blade and it cut through the haze of fury that had almost consumed the Fire Aspect. I smiled through the rising heat even as it warped the air around us into a dry bubble of invisible flames.

"This elder brother forgives you, Trella. Almost," I savoured the look on her face like a fine wine, even as my sifu looked at me dangerously so I spoke quickly, "I think there was something else you said. Something about my appearance...?"

I could practically hear her blood boiling, let alone her grinding teeth, "And...And I am sorry that I called you ugly. Elder brother."

"Apology accepted, Trella," The sound of my sheathing blade resounded out with a click as I kept my smile. I wondered if I made a mistake considering how the beast in front of me seemed more likely than ever to leap upon me like some carnivorous feline.

"I declare this duel finished," My sifu spoke out, her voice washing over the gathered crowd like the clear waves of the sea, "Trella, you let your rage blind you. Contain your anger and let it fuel your actions but do not dishonour the blade by becoming a raging animal."

As if my sifu's words were like a cool balm, the raging animal in front of me was turned into a meek kitten. She bowed her head shamefully and stomped off. The crowd parted, dismissed from my sifu's words and I was made to stay. Not because anything was said but just the look I received from her was enough for me to know.

"Follow me, Luo."

There was no argument to be brokered so I didn't even bother. With a solemn look overtaking my charming smile, I walked behind my sifu as she glided across the immaculately carved stone pavements of the outer courtyard. Soon, the once silent air was filled with the sounds of gossip and the sounds of wooden swords clashing against each other dancing to the shouting of various instructors.

We walked in silence, students both old and new bowing to my sifu as we passed them. I caught the glint of annoyance in their eyes as I flashed my usual smile down at them but they didn't dare say or do anything. Soon enough, we walked up a wide flight of stone steps. Disciples swept them with straw brooms, either as a punishment or as training.

Or at least they believed it was training. Poor bastards. Keeping the seventy-seven steps clean was an important task, just not one I ever fancied doing myself ever again. Those very same steps lead high up to the main dojo of our sect and I felt my heart lighten at the sight of it. 

It was a grand pagoda that reached up to the sky as if it was the tip of a spear. Its sloped, tiled roofs shone from the sun's rays, a jet-black surface that caught the eye as surely as the symbol etched above the entranceway; a coiling dragon holding a long blade in its fanged maw. The vibrant wooden supports drunk in the sunlight, seeming to thrum with a life of their own. By the heavy oaken doors, studded with etchings of steel and jade, were two armed guards, holding grand spears in their rigid grip. As we approached, their vigil was broken by a slight nod to my sifu and the twinset doors opened wide.

The pagoda was alive with the sound of chattering, discussion and the occasional shout as sparring happened within its walls of carved limestone. Even to someone like me, I feel like I could breathe easier just by walking inside. My footsteps were lighter, my posture straightened up and my sheathed blade felt like it was humming in my hand.

We walked up the twisting stairways, passing classes and libraries of various sizes and shapes. Not one place was empty, not one room was quiet. Whether it was a hushed discussion on the sword forms of various martial artists or a heated debate about which is stronger or faster, the building itself was alive with a passion that burned in the chest of every student.

Except for one place. Except for one place that was quiet, serene even. At the very top of the pagoda was a room. A room for one person alone.

As if it was my own kingdom, I walked inside before my sifu and in that room was a table, two clay cups whose contents were still steaming hot and two fluffy looking cushions on the floor on the left and right sides of the small table.

And on that table was an untouched game of Gateway. Without a word, I sat down on the left side after my sifu sat down and we faced each other. I still had my smile, even as my sifu looked through me like clean glass with a blank, neutral stare.

"So what do you think of her?" My sifu eventually said and a small part of me relaxed at the question. I took the time to sip my drink, a beautifully bitter taste of black tea spreading on my tongue.

"I told her myself; slow and predictable," I savoured the taste for a few more seconds before taking another sip, "And her blade was in a terrible state. Probably never bothered maintaining, mewling kitten that she is."

"Hardly a kitten considering she looked liable to tear out your throat with her teeth," Her soft voice turned slightly sour and dry, making the corners of my lips twitch, "And you didn't have to go so far, Luo. You could've still salvaged a positive relationship if you didn't humiliate her."

"She humiliated herself, that wild mare," I coldly snorted, my smile dipping a bit, "And besides, you know as well as I do that her type can only be motivated in a certain way. She'll dedicate herself to training from now on in an effort to show me up."

"Oh, so was that your grand plan all along, my student?" My sifu's lips didn't move but I could see the smirk in her turquoise eyes, "To help your fellow pupil, you pushed them to their brink? To make sure that she prospers in the blade, you took her aside and forced her to confront her own weakness?"

"My own magnanimity baffles me as well, sifu. What can I say? I am nothing if not a caring older brother for my fellow disciples," I declared with solemnity, a slow nod following my words as I watched my sifu lift her own cup to her lips.

"And the bitch called me ugly. She needed a spanking," I said without a hint of hesitation and I was rewarded by a slight sputter from my sifu. Gracefully, she wiped away the green tea from her wet chin and pinned me to the floor with a hard stare.

"Language, Luo," I bowed my head slightly in apology but also to hide my smile. Which she most likely saw anyway but it was the principle of the matter than anything else.

"Still, you took it too far this time. Did the chip on your blade rile you up that much?" She asked and this time, I let the full force of my enmity show through a contorted scowl.

"It's one thing to be disrespectful to me but another thing to show disrespect to a swordsman's blade. Isn't that part of our philosophy as members of the sect you have built, sifu?" I asked her and the answer I received was a coy, knowing smile which made my emotions calm down, even as my cheeks grew slightly hot.

"That it is, you little scamp," She gave a tittering smile which I returned and she nodded down at the Gateway board in front of us. Taking the signal, I moved my first piece and she did the same.

Time passed, the silence only broken by the sipping of our respective teas and ambient conversation. At some points, I would take the effort to look out of the large opening right next to us, allowing the sun's warm rays to filter into the room. 

To say that pride filled my heart could not begin to describe the emotions that welled up within me. From this height, I could see the hundreds of disciples, old and young, fresh-faced recruits and the elders of the sect. The clash of blades, both wooden and steel, were omnipresent throughout the entire sect but only an outsider would think we were simply smacking swords against each other.

Katas, martial techniques, Charms. Perhaps all in one and the same to others but they all had their distinct uses. They were all practised here, the very air thrumming with invisible energy that permeated the very bones of the entire sect. Like a grand tree whose roots reached deep within the earth, one could feel the history and the raw power of this sect, my home, by its very presence.

The Five Blades Sect, led by Lady Cynis Tura, formerly Tura Silk-Touch. The woman I’m playing Gateway with at this very moment and my sifu, my teacher.

“So have you given any thought to my offer?” Lady Tura’s voice was a gentle caress to my mind, breaking me out of my thoughts. Absent-mindedly, I moved my tiger to the second board and devoured her horse.

“It is an interesting proposal, offering me the chance to become an instructor here. Do you think the others would accept it?” I kept my voice even as I felt a slight twinge in my chest and I watched as her dragon piece slew my battalions on the upper board.

“They might dislike your flippancy but I know you, Luo,” Her battalions encircled my calvary but in turn, my tiger slew them on the now empty second board, "You hold far more than enough skill to teach others, even if they don't like to say it out loud."

"Skill with the blade," I punctured my words by bringing my tiger down to the second board and he had a feast of my sifu's dogs of war, "But not skill with essence."

The silence wasn't heavy but it was poignant. Her gaze held a soft pity but there was no derision to be found. It was a simple fact that we both knew and could do nothing about.

I am unable to utilise essence. Not due to a lack of training or diligence or a lack of want or need. No, the truth was simple and certain:

Many mortals could use essence if they tried hard enough. Or got lucky enough. But not I. Not me. The pathways of my essence, my meridians and chakras, were crippled and broken beyond repair. Not due to anyone's design but the ever fanciful whims of fate and destiny. For most mortals like myself, this is a non-issue. It is a privilege, not a necessity, to use essence and shape it into techniques known as Charms. For many martial artists, it's a goal to strive for but one that is rarely reached. It takes years of dedication and training to a lifestyle that is already physically and mentally exhausting.

And even then, one could get discouraged by the mere presence of the Dragon-Blooded who can wield essence with the natural ease a grasshopper might leap into the air. It is easy to look at the blessed and exalted and know that they will forever tower over you, no matter how hard you work.

"There is more to life than simply using essence, my student," I tried to keep my face blank but the slight edge as I knocked over her warriors with my tiger piece gave away my broiling emotion, "What many of the young clutches down there forget, and sometimes yourself, is that essence must be tempered and refined with skill and control."

"They sure learn fast enough," I couldn't quite hold back the bitterness in my voice and I took a sip of my black tea to calm myself down, "That trollop met me blow for blow and she used to be one of the worst students just a week ago."

My sifu shook her head at me, her calm expression broken by a minuscule crunching of her thin brow, "You're looking at it in the wrong way, Luo. The fact that she couldn't beat you, even while using essence and had to resort to a Charm, shows off your skill, not hers."

"And imagine what a laughing stock the entire sect would become if I even dared to go above beyond my station," I told her flatly and my sifu's forehead creased further into a frown, almost a glare of all things. I shook my head as I moved my tiger piece behind my dragon, putting it at the forefront of her army.

By heaven, I hate this game.

"Let them laugh. What should I care about the opinions of the old and decrepit?" My sifu declared her frustration with a contemptive flick of her wrist as she moved her tiger in front of my dragon, the two of them facing off against each other, tearing through my units as she did so.

"Because I care, my sifu," I said with sternness and rigidness that was unbecoming of me when addressing my master but right now, that mattered very little to me, "I care about you and I care about the sect. Do you not care for my opinion?"

She huffed and the gracefulness of the Water Aspect ceased to be for a moment, allowing me to see the woman underneath all of the dignity and pride. If one looked at her, they wouldn't guess that she's over one hundred and fifty years of age.

It was endearing in a way.

"You used to be much cuter when you were a baby," The dastardly woman waited for me to take a sip of my tea, taking my breath away in a wet splutter, "I remember when you used to cling to my skirt and cry whenever I wasn't around or when you tried to copy me when I was showing off the katas to the new students. I didn't raise you to be this sharp-tongued womanizer."

"I am not a womanizer!" I couldn't hold back my voice from rising up, wiping away the dark droplets of tea on my chin, glaring at the smirking woman in front of me, "You know full well I never put my hands on any of the girls!"

"Perhaps you should," I couldn't really contain myself anymore and I made no effort to hide my disgust with my lips curling back, "You're a handsome young man-"

"A bit more than handsome, I might add."

"And," She ignored my words though she pinned me to the floor with a steely stare, "I think having a woman in your life would do you good. Concentrate on things other than the blade and martial arts."

"You just offered me a seat as an instructor in the sect," I pointed dryly, using my dragon to corner her tiger. In return, it let my tiger slaughter the rest of her units, except for her dragon.

"Because I think you will find teaching others instead of learning for yourself also a good experience. And I never said you couldn't do both," My sifu pointed out and I found that I couldn't really argue against it. The rules of our sect were few but ironclad. Having a relationship with a student or a teacher was so common among martial artists, that we didn't even bother to stop it.

Even so, I couldn’t hold back a slight cringe at the statement, “That is beside the point, sifu. The point is my answer is no. I will not embarrass the sect, not even for you.”

I received a forlorn sigh and my sifu used her tiger to strike down my tiger. The next turn, I returned the favor with my own favored beast, leaving only my tiger and her dragon left on the field.

“That’s checkmate,” I huffed as my sifu knocked over my tiger with her dragon, ending the game, “It was a close match at least.”

“At least,” My sifu agreed but we both knew the truth of the matter and we shared a small chuckle, “I presume you will be wanting your blade repaired then.”

“I was thinking it’s been awhile since I last visited old man Shen and Ti,” My shoulders lifted in an easy shrug as I finished off my tea.

“You can just use our forges here,” My sifu offered but I shook my head.

“I’ve been a bit low on my finances as of late and there’s always some work to be done in Bladefall for some yen,” I replied back but the slight frown on my sifu’s face told me that she saw through the small lie.

“This wouldn't happen to have anything to do with the local reports of banditry, would it?”

Damn it all.

“No, no, of course not!” I forced a laugh to brush off the words but her stern stare went nowhere. Still, I persisted with a disarming smile and I was rewarded with my sifu eventually huffing in defeat with a shake of her head.

"Make sure to get some supplies before you head out. Take one of the horses if you have to," My ever-caring sifu all but ordered me, making me smile at her as I acquiesced to her demands, "And don't forget to take your armour or some koku. If you get hungry,-"

"Remember the hunting lessons you taught me, I know, sifu," I laughed softly, standing up from my seat. I bowed deeply as my teacher and mentor bade me leave with an airy wave of her hand. I bowed once again and left the room, leaving my sifu alone for now. I walked down the stairs to the second to last floor and there were a few rooms. No training or studies but rooms to sleep and relax in.

In this pagoda, the Tower of Blades as it was called in the sect, it was separated into three layers; upper, middle and lower. On the upper floors were the rooms for elder students, instructors and of course, Lady Tura herself. The middle floors were the training rooms for advanced techniques and forms such as Fiery Garda Force Attack and the unique techniques that followed them after such as Deep Cut, Loving Heart Stance and so on.

The lower floors were for training also but we also had the kitchens, armouries, libraries and so on down there. From there, any student could come and go as they please, within reason.

It went without saying that my room was on the upper floor and I could find it by touch and memory alone. The sliding doors opened with ease and I stepped into it, looking around for a brief moment.

It was a single room but spacious enough that one could unsheathe a sword and swing it around and still not touch the ceiling or the walls. In one corner of the room laid a single futon, its pillow caved in and its covers were thrown aside. After making sure the door was shut, I went towards the somewhat messy bedding and I lifted up the pillow to find a lone object hidden beneath it.

It was a long but slender wooden instrument. A flute of crimson redwood imported all the way from Haltia itself and here, to the Blessed Isle. This alone could sell well over twice what most peasants would ever see in their lives.

And it was mine. A gift that was given to me on my sixteenth birthday. Clutching it in my hand, I turned my head to the full-length mirror, propped up against the wall and I saw myself. 

A regal face bearing an almost ever-present smile that could melt the heart of the iciest of maidens stared back at me, clear sky-blue eyes that followed me and caught the sun's rays. Dressed in an outer black robe with white underneath, it made the two white stripes of hair draping down his shoulders even more striking while the midnight blackness of the rest of his hair shone with a natural vibrancy to it. All held together with a flawless top knot, a solid black pin slid through it.

On his slender waist was a sheathed blade in black lacquered wood, held by long arms whose robes hid the well-defined muscles that the young, devilishly handsome man no doubt acquired over long, arduous years of hard physical training.

The man in the mirror preened as I checked him over and he did the same to me. We both scowled as we looked down at the slightly black mark on our inner white robes. A small bit of ash, staining our clothes. I brushed it off but all I ended up doing was smudging it in, turning it into a black blotch.

I pulled my outer robes over it, just a tiny little tug and it was gone. Hidden. Not a hair out of place or a speck of dust resting on my clothes. The notch on my blade was still fresh in my mind, stuck like a sharp splinter that I could feel constantly. Pocketing my flute, I went to leave the room and prepare for the rest of the day ahead of me.

I couldn’t even take a second footstep when I suddenly stopped. I looked down at my robe once again and the tiny black splotch was hidden but in my mind, I could still see it.

No one will notice, so who cares?

I took a third step but I stopped myself again.

Well, someone might notice. But even if they do, what does it matter? It’s just a little bit of ash, nothing to make a fuss about. Who cares?

This time, I didn’t even take a fourth step. My smile fell as I huffed deeply, already undressing with a swift hand as I prepared to get my spare robes.

Who was I kidding? Even if no one noticed, I would and that’s all that really mattered. If I couldn’t even uphold my own standards, there I was little more than a fake who couldn’t practise what he preached.

And I am anything but fake.

Chapter Text

Bladefall, while an auspiciously strong name, wasn't that different from any of the other small towns on The Blessed Isle. Most of it was farmland, tended to by said farmers. It had a lively open-air marketplace, a quaint teahouse and so on and so on. Its roads were layered cobblestone, kept free of debris and dust by the ever so vigilant street sweepers.

I kept my back straight, even as the damnable beast of burden beneath me tried its best to jostle me off. I kept the twinge of discomfort from appearing on my face, only showing off my broad smile.

Bladefall was alive with the sound of chatter and gossiping housewives; who slept with who, the latest drama of whose husband punched whose brother and what have you.

The only interesting thing about Bladefall was, without a doubt, my home. The Five Blades Sect, led by my sifu. It earned its name through the five duels my sifu took to establish her dojo.

Which was, coincidentally, a total lie. It was more akin to a hundred and thirty-seven duels but that didn't really quite have the same catchy tune to it.

My horse, a large well-bred stallion with a vibrant brown coat, trotted down the main road of Bladefall. On either side of me, I had farmer stalls trying to show off their wares of rice bags or freshly plucked tomatoes. But in equal measure, I also saw metal workers flash their axes and sickles of steel and bronze to prospective customers.

That was Bladefall's, rather unimaginative, niche; its metalworks were actually quite well-known for their work. Nothing compared to the blades and swords made in the sect but it was wholly unfair to compare the craftsmanship of mortals and Dragons.

"Good day, young master Luo! Can I interest you in some rice? Freshly harvest just this morning!" One of the farmers called out as I passed and he flashed me a yellow-tooth smile.

"Thank you Ken but I'm afraid I already ate," I returned his smile with one of my own, still trotting away from him, "Give my blessings to your wife. She must be close to labour, no?"

"That she is, that she is! Seventh child. My dear Poppy is hoping for another daughter but we've already have four. Do you know how many dolls I've made by now?"

"I can only imagine," I said to the farmer, chuckling and offering a goodbye while mentally saying a prayer for his poor wife. Seven brats. Must be exhausting for a mortal woman. I led my horse down the cobblestone road for a while longer, occasionally dabbling in light conversation with the people of Bladefall; bladesmiths trying to pander me their wares, mothers trying to introduce their daughters to me of which there was not an insignificant amount.

The attention was gratifying but I was here on a delicate and urgent matter. Eventually, I found the place I was looking for. It was a small but cosy-looking brick hut. Just from a glance, one could see the age in the weathered stone and the dark thatch roof. Off to the side was an open-air porch which let the dark smoke rise into the sky above.

The sounds of iron hitting iron rung out in a heavy yet melodious pattern. I was told that you would often hear the mastery of a smith through the ringing of their hammers rather than the markings on their blade.

If that was true, then the steady rhythm was a song of experience. Of age and hard-fought knowledge of one person dedicating themselves to a craft. There was no mysticism or essence to be found in the rhythmic beating but there didn't need to be.

Finally dismounting the sullen horse, I tied the reins to a post and walked towards the open-air smithy. My feet followed the rhythm of forging, a sort of skip to my step. As I got closer, I could feel the sweltering heat of the forge slowly start to envelop me like a thick smoky blanket.

Walking into the sooty smithy, I could see the bare back of a male figure. He had rippling muscles, a body built from years of hard labour but he wasn't a strongman. Instead, his limbs were thin and sinewy almost, just like the rest of his body.

I stood there, watching him work on an anvil. Sparks were spat out with every strike of his hammer, the tool black with soot and crusted ash. His measured strikes come to a sudden end and they lifted the red-hot newborn sickle, examining it. Barely turning around, he placed the blade under a bed of orange-red coals. A handful of minutes passed before he took the blade out from its blanket of burning coals and once again started beating it into shape.

This carried for a good thirty minutes, maybe more? I stood and watched silently, not making myself known. I waited until the old man's final smash of his forging hammer fell and he lifted up the red blade. With a grunt, he plunged it into the quenching barrel and a vicious hissing filled the room. Taking out the smoking blade, sizzling drops of water falling off of it, he looked down the spine of the blade with one eye closed.

He grunted with satisfaction and placed it on a thick wooden table, its topside completely scarred black, and ran a file over it. It went smoothly over the bevel of the blade as if it was smooth glass.

"Satisfied?" I spoke up and the blacksmith only gave a single dry grunt, not even bothering to look up at me.

"It'll do," The old smith's voice was much like his burning coals; dusty, dark and smouldering. He fully turned to face me at last and I was greeted by a weathered face of an old man. Coal dust and ashy soot seemed to be engrained in the lines of his expression and his frazzled black beard had a streak of striking grey in the burnt edges of it.

"How long have you been there, brat?" He asked me and I flashed him one of my many dazzling smiles.

I might as well have been trying to get blood out of a stone for all of the good it did me.

"I just got here old man," I told him with a roll of my eyes and that earned me another grunt but nothing more. He waved his gnarled hand at me and I stepped into the smithy proper.

"Alright, hand it over."

"Hand what over?" I innocently batted my eyelashes at the old smith who stared at me, unmoved with his craggy features staring at me, "Maybe I just came to visit you and Ti? Come on, it's been a while since we last saw each other. Aren't you happy to see me?"

Old man Shen snorted and he held out a blackish hand out at me. I rolled my eyes again but I unholstered my blade and gave it over to the blacksmith. He pulled out the gleaming steel blade and ran his fingertips over its edge.

"Another duel, huh?" He snorted and turned his back to me. This close, under the ash and grime, I found my eyes wandering over the criss-cross scars that littered his back. I forced my eyes away as he sat down on a grindstone and set the blade against it.

"You don't have to do that, old man. I can sharpen my own blade," I told him but I made no move to actually stop him. He gave a snort, shifting his flinty green eyes up at me.

"Did you win at least?"

"Naturally," That earned me another snort, "It was a good duel, I'll have you know. My honour was at stake."

"Honour, hrm? A fop like you wouldn't know what real honour was if it stabbed you in the belly."

"My good name and good looks were besmirched, you fossil. Not that you would know what that's like," I flicked my long black hair and I have no doubt that I was the cleanest thing in this smithy right now.

There was a low throaty noise escaping from old man Shen, his shoulders shaking a tiny bit. He looked down at the blade, peering at its glinting edge. Gently, he placed the wooden sheath down to the side, leaning up against the fence of the smithy.

"You've kept good care of this, brat. But no blade lasts forever," Old man Shen's scraggly voice took on a smoother tone and I felt my shoulders lower. A sigh escaped my lips, my hands retreating towards my back.

"A swordsman can keep a blade as sharp and true as the first and last time he drew it," I recited one of the sect's teachings and the derisive snort I received this time dismissed my words.

"If that was true, I would've closed up shop and taken up whoring," Old man Shen dryly spoke, shaking his head. The words sent a sickly shiver down my spine, forcing my smile to form a grimace.

"Still, you must have some orders to take care of. Let me attend my own blade. It'll only take a couple of minutes."

Despite my offer, he waved me off and turn his back to me, "That's why I'm doing it at all, brat. Wouldn't want you to get your silk robes all dirty now. Go inside and see Ti, would you? She's been wanting to show you something for a while now."

That gave me pause. A swordsman should look after his own blade but I haven't seen Ti for a good month or so now. If she wanted to show me something, it wouldn't be very gentlemanly of me to keep her waiting.

"Oh fine. I'll be back in a bit," I finally gave in and allowed the old bladesmith to wave me off. I stopped just before I stepped off the porch and I turned around, giving an audacious and contemptive sniff.

"And it isn't silk. It's satin, you pleb."

"And I bet it'll still be 'satin' when I throw this bucket at you! Now piss off, you flouncing fop!" Was the sudden shout I received, the old craggily voice crackling like burning coals. Having already tasted a bucket thrown at me once before by the old fossil, I decided that it was better to move on and see Ti.

Walking away from the porch, I entered the smithy proper and the raw stench of iron and metals hit me like a thunderbolt. Rakes and sickles lined the walls, hanging off wooden hinges. Utensils and horseshoes rested in small barrels, seemingly open for purchase.

Behind the counter stood a bored-looking woman. She had her elbows resting on the wooden top, winding a lock of luscious brown hair around her dainty finger. At the sound of the door opening, her bright jade-green eyes darted to me and they flicked wide open.

"Hello there, Ti. Hard at work as always, I see."

"Luo!" The young woman's voice rose, light and pleasant to the ears. Ti was easily the beauty of Bladefall, her womanly features lighting up with two adorable dimples as her soft red lips stretched into a smile. Even heavily clothed in a thick pock-marked blacksmith and bland cotton clothing, Ti's curvy yet toned body was obvious from just a glance. Her arms weren't muscled but they didn't have a single bit of extra fat, leaving them slim and robust.

I smiled back as I walked towards Ti. I didn't get very far before I found myself caught up in a very tight, suffocating hug.

"M-Missed you too," I barely managed to wheeze the words out. Before my poor feeble spine could be broken under the grip of this young woman's grip, she let go and the room itself seemed to light up with her smile.

Which was wiped away when she slugged my shoulder and I hissed through my teeth, tenderly touching the now aching body part.

"You idiot, where have you been? Do you know how boring it's been since we last saw each other?" There was a pout to Ti's words that made me chuckle and I gave a helpless shrug.

"Ah, dear Ti, shining lady of Bladefall-"

"Luo, shut up and talk like a normal person," Ti rolled her large, round eyes at me. Her dainty hand, smooth but calloused, grabbed onto mine as she all but dragged me towards the counter.

"Fine, fine. Whatever the lady wants," I heaved a theatrical sigh, "And what do you mean it's been boring? We only saw each other about a week ago, Ti."

"Yeah and I've been bored to tears minding the shop," She answered flippantly. She let go of my hand as she went behind the counter again, looking over me as she did so.

“Have you been eating alright up there in the clouds? They don’t starve you for days on end for some stupid reason do they?”

“No of course not,” I shook my head at the ridiculous question.

“We fast for weeks on end, subsisting on nothing more than our own willpower and determination,” I told her blankly and in return, she gave me a dirty look.

“No wonder you’re thin like a twig. You should eat some actual meat one of these days instead of drinking tea and eating rice like some sort of monk.”

“Now that is a scary thought,” I ran my hand through my scalp, stroking my long and silky hair.

Ti just giggled at me, the wench.

"I thought I heard Pa talking and shouting with someone. Figured it could only be you," She said, sticking out her tongue at me as I huffed with noble bearing.

"He mistook my robes for silk and called me a fop," I shook my head indignantly even as Ti snorted dryly at me.

"You are a fop, Luo. And if those robes aren't silk, what are they? Sheepskin?"

"Satin, I'll have you know," I informed her, lifting up my chin at her. She sniffed at me, wiping away her impish grin with her hand.

"You're like a prancing peabutt, you know? If I walk out there and see a horse, I'm going to tell everyone how it rides up your asscrack."

"Peacock, Ti. You're thinking about a peacock," The young woman stuck her tongue at me and I resisted the very childish yet very justified desire to return it, "And I'll have you know a peacock is a beautiful, noble bird. Why, I couldn't think of a better animal to be."

"An ox," That earned an eye roll from me, “No, I’m being serious! Oxen are hardy, strong, good for labor and docile most of the time yet no wolves or foxes are gonna eat them. And when they get old and fat, they keep us fed!”

“They also smell like musk and shit.”

“Peacocks are just pretty birds. Not much good for anything else.”

“And how do you even know what a peacock looks like? Or what it can do?” My nose crinkled with another sniff as Ti’s eyes creased with her smile.

“Because you like ‘em, obviously.”

“Oh shut up,” The expiration in my voice made me sound tired as Ti’s smile turned roguish and triumphant.

“So how have you been, Luo? Got into another fight again?” Ti asked me, her round eyes darting to my naked waist. It wasn’t even really a question so I didn’t bother playing coy.

“Afraid so. My sword got chipped yet again, this time from a feisty little thing. Didn’t take too kindly to what I said about her family or where her skills might be better placed,” I smoothed out my wrinkled clothes from Ti’s bear hug as I spoke. Ti’s smile took a slight vindictive sheen to it, the corners of her mouth turning sharp.

But it only lasted a second before her brow wrinkled and she gave me a worried look, “That sword of yours isn’t going to last much longer if you keep this up, Luo. Maybe you should stop looking for fights or you’re gonna get seriously hurt one of these days.”

The urge to recite the sect’s teachings didn’t rise up within me unlike with Shen, not this time anyway. Every time the blade was chipped and had to be sharpened, a tiny bit of its life was taken away as a result. This was the tenth time this month alone, after all.

The blade itself used to be as thick as my thumb. Now it was only as thick as my forefinger.

“That’s a bridge that I’ll cross later,” The answer was weak and dismissive even to my own ears so I ignored Ti’s furrowed brow look for now, “The old man said you had something to show me, by the way.”

“Oh!” Ti’s round eyes snapped wide at that and she darted into the back rooms of the smithy. I waited there for a little while, no doubt cutting a striking figure. I took the time to look around the iron workshop. Unlike most of the smiths around here, there wasn’t a single blade to be found. Rather, there were no weapons at all.

The walls and the floors were swept but stubborn ashy patches had seemed to creep into the very structure itself. It wasn't a clean place by any notion of imagination and where Ti hugged me, I could tell she had smudged some dirt on me.

Probably on purpose. Damn it, this would take ages to wash off.

I heard the sound of crashing cupboards and something heavy hitting the floor. Ti's head eventually popped out of the doorway and she held a wide smile that her cascading hair couldn't hide. She sauntered around, holding a long cloth bundle in her arms.

"My Pa showed me this last night. Said he was thinking of selling it but I managed to talk him out of it for now," Ti laid the cloth bundle on the counter and uncovered it for me.

It was a sheathed blade. The scabbard was made of aged, wrinkly leather and its handle was wrapped in straps of the same material. The handguard was a block of tarnished old brass and the iron ball pommel was somewhat rusted. All in all, nothing that special.

“May I?” I asked Ti who nodded energetically at my request. My hands caressed up and down the weathered leather sheath and I could feel its age through touch alone. Gently, I picked it up and I took a hold of its handle of black leather. When I unsheathed it, a beautiful rainbow shine greeted me.

I felt my heart leapt in my throat and in a split second, the blade was fully revealed in all of its splendour.

It was about four and a half feet in length, the standard size for any straight sword. My eyelids snapped wide open and my smile broke into a slack-jawed gape. The blade wasn’t made from steel or jade but from glass. A vibrant, crimson-hued glass that weighed like air in my grasp. Its twin sides were filed down to a fine razor-edge and it ended in a curved tip.

“This…this is made out of Chiaroscuran glass,” I breathed out in awe and Ti’s grin was practically radiant, “How in the hell did you even get your hands on this?”

“Like I said, Pa showed me it a couple of nights ago. Said it was something he got before meeting Ma. Didn’t say why but I think he’s gonna sell it,” Ti told me, her keen gaze still on the unsheathed crimson glass blade. I couldn’t stop my shoulders slumping from her words, shaking my head slowly.

“Such a shame. This is an exquisite blade though that’s probably why he wants to sell it,” The tip of my fingers danced across the flat of the crimson glass and the goosebumps that rose on my arm weren’t due to the cold.

“But why does your father even own this? I thought he didn’t like forging weapons?” I asked Ti but all I got was a shrug.

“No idea. I tried asking him but you know how he is when he clams up,” Ti told me, clicking her tongue at the end of her words. I gave her a helpless smile before turning my attention back to the Chiaroscuran blade.

The ruby-red blade became a blur as I gave a few practised swipes and by the dragons, it was light. All of the weight came from the pommel and the handguard but it didn't make my wrist bend or creak against my bones. Though the appearance of brass and iron classed with the blade of crimson glass, I couldn't deny the simple fact that this blade was an exquisite specimen.

"If you do sell it, you'll earn quite a sum. But are you two having troubles with money?" I asked Ti, forcing myself to sheath the glass blade.

"Not really. People come in, we repair their tools or make them new ones. It's steady work," The pure boredom in Ti's words couldn't be any heavier. Her forehead crinkled in thought, however, and I found a heavy weight chaining my heart. Steeling myself, I decided to ask Ti about something.

"I've heard reports of bandits and highwaymen around Bladefall," As soon as the words left my lips, Ti couldn't look me in the eye, "Maybe that has something to do with it.

Ti's shoulders sagged with her frustrated sigh, "Maybe. Probably. I don't see what the big deal is though. We've got your pals to protect us if anything does happen."

"My 'pals' are all hypocritical, waltzing snakes in the grass that can't beat me in a straight fight," Ti cocked a brow up at me but I ignored that for now, "And besides, you know the rules. We're just a martial arts sect, we're not enforcers. If we start taking the law into our own hands, the governor will have our heads. Or, dragons forbid, the damned prefect gets involved."

Such was the burden of politics. Dojos and martial art sects not of the Immaculates were a rare thing these days. It wasn't a huge deal if it was a school meant to teach unenlightened mortals like myself but it was a different story when dragons were involved.

Sifu walked a fine line here on the Blessed Isle. To me, The Five Blades Sect was home. It was a place of learning, dedication and exalting the blade and martial arts.

To others, it was a would-be warlord's base of operations.

"But something has to be done," Ti hissed, her eyes creasing in frustration. I bit my lip for a moment before exhaling slowly.

"Tell me what's happened at least," I felt my hand instinctively go to my waist but obviously, there was nothing there. I saved myself by smoothly crossing my arms across my chest.

Perfect. Flawless, even.

Ti smiled at me though it seemed forced, "Well-"

"Stop! Don't hurt him!"

I found myself already outside before the screaming ended, casting my gaze across the open marketplace. It took only a second for Ti to join me but by then, I had already found what I was looking for.

Five or so men, all dressed in various decaying sets of leather and tattered cloth, had surrounded a couple. The comely village woman was kneeling down, holding onto her lover or husband who was bleeding out on the ground from a fresh head wound.

One of them, the biggest, had a club in his hand. The blunt end was smeared and dripping with sticky blood. His ugly sneer revealed a set of misaligned yellowed teeth, his nose misshaped and flat against his face.

I didn't know when my hands had balled into white-knuckled fists but I didn't much care either. A fire was lit in my belly as I took a step forward.

"Don't," A familiar voice, rough and gravely, spoke to me and it was followed by an even rougher grab of my shoulders. I didn't need to see who it was to know who stopped me but my head snapped to my side to see Shen out of the forge, his weathered face lined with a grimace.

"Where's my sword?" I didn't lower myself to spitting out my words but they came out in a low, dangerous tone. I felt my heart plummet like a stone when Shen shook his head but the fire in my belly rose to my chest.

"Don't get involved, Luo. You'll just make things worse," Shen's words did nothing to soothe me and neither did the resigned look in his eye. Ti was uncomfortably silent but I couldn't concentrate on her, not now at least. I could see that Shen didn't have my sword and I didn't have time to play around.

It was in that faint moment, I realised something.

I had never let go of the glass blade's sheath.

"Luo! Luo, don't do this! Luo!" Old man Shen didn't shout but his words came out in a throaty growl. I ignored them as I strode towards the brigands, the fire in my belly starting to smoulder in my heart. The heat started to spread through my veins like hot coals.

What was the point of it all? What was the point of learning how to fight, how to handle a blade if I was just going to stand back and be a faceless bystander?

The smile that graced my face didn't have to be forced as I glided through the murmuring crowd. I easily drew attention by virtue of my clothes and I kept it by the simple fact that I wasn't trembling in my boots.

"And who are you supposed to be?" The piggish thug snorted at me and I was suddenly struck by the image of a warthog, wrinkled and pimpled. He was more fat than muscle but that weight could be dangerous all by itself. I took stock of his little posse, their chipped axes and rusted knives.

Had this been happening all under our noses this entire time? Under my nose?

"Oh my good friend, I'm no one of import," I stood over the injured man and the frightened woman. I looked down at the two of them and I let my smile drop for a moment at seeing the small puddle of blood at my feet and the tears streaming down her face.

"Go to the apothecary," I told her softly and she quickly nodded but the poor woman couldn't budge her unconscious husband. That was until Ti came to their side and quickly helped him.

Ti gave me a look, her eyes naked with fear and worry but I simply smiled back at her. Turning my attention back to the ruffians, I spread my arms wide in an inviting gesture but they never took their eyes off the sheathed blade in my grip.

"My friends, it's such a fine afternoon. What's the point of causing a scene like this, hm? You'll ruin everyone's day," My words came out smoothly as melting butter. It didn't do much as the pig-like bandit snorted heavily and jerked his head towards me. His little gang of malnourished miscreants slowly started to surround me in a semi-circle of sorts. There were about five of them in total and two of them were behind my back.

So he wasn't nearly as stupid as he was ugly. Just mostly a buffoon.

"That bastard owed me some jade scrip. I was just reminding him, that's all." His deep voice came out nasally, like something was stuck in his throat.

"Come now, aren't we a civilised people? Surely if he owed you money, a small chat was all that was needed. Your actions made a pretty young woman cry after all," My smile stayed on my face even as I spoke but there was no warmth in it.

He wasn't lying, I think. But I also didn't really care if he was telling the truth or not.

I would not allow these walking pieces of filth to waltz around my home and hurt innocent people right in front of me. I would not allow it.

I refused to allow it.

The low laughter I received made my skin crawl and the glint in the bandit's flinty eyes was almost enough to make me draw my blade right then and there.

"She was a pretty little thing, wasn't she? Maybe she'll be willin' to pay us instead."

This time, my smile did drop. I didn't mar my face by scowling but I wagered that the fire that rose up within me shone through my eyes. My arms fell to my side and I slowly reached for the handle of my borrowed blade.

"Now, I'm going to give you all one chance," I kept my voice steady even as I started to feel the boiling hot rush through my ears, "Leave and I won't humiliate the five of you in front of these fine people."

All I got was a mocking chuckle surrounding me. The crowd around us had started to spread apart, most people going indoors and watching through the windows and open doors. Soon, it was only me and them on the once bustling street.

I shifted my gaze from side to side before landing on the piggish brute in front of me. Despite it all, I felt calm. Ready. Even as the broiling flames of rage burned even hotter within my chest, I wouldn't let it control me.

I let my teeth show with a razor-edged smile as my feet spread wide, "But if you don't want to, I suppose it wouldn't be beneath me to exchange some pointers with your ilk."

That made him grunt and he jerked his head. The goons on my side unhooked their blunt rusted axes and clubs but it didn't matter.

I shifted to the side and I brought the point of my sheathed blade behind me. I felt the soft impact of flesh followed by a wretched gasping noise. My surroundings were a blur as I kicked out the legs of the gasping bandit, making him fall to the stone-hard ground.

One down. Four to go.

One, two, three steps were all it took for my surroundings to become a blur and for the knife-wielding bandit to take my full attention. Showing my back to foes was always risky but it had to be done.

I could see the shock and fear in his eyes, even as he went to gut me. My hand lashed out and I grabbed his wrist, twisting it. I felt his bones crunch and grind against each, even as he gasped in pain. The dagger was dropped on the ground and again, I kicked out the bandit's leg from underneath him.

I never let go, even as he fell. I stomped my foot on his shoulder blades and the resulting crack and pop made my skin shiver with disgust. The yelling and profanity-filled screaming was music to my ears, however.

Two down. Three to go.

I turned my attention back to the remaining bandits. The naked shock in their eyes would've made me smile if it wasn't for the simple fact that I wasn't done yet.

The silence in the air was broken by the gagging and gasping bandits on the floor. I let go of the broken and twisted arm and it flopped with a dull thud and I stepped off the bandit, kicking away the dagger as I did so.

"Well, gentlemen. Who's next?" I spoke and this time, I did allow myself a smile as the two bandits stepped back from me and the warthog's nostrils flared at me.

"Ye'll pay for that, ye little shite!" The big brute's roar seemed to spur on his minions and the two of them rushed me, axe and club raised high.

I unsheathed my blade and the beauty of it seemed to entrap them for a split second.

That was all it took for me to bring them low.

The axe wielder had the head of his weapon fall to the ground. The wooden shaft wasn't nearly thick enough to stop the edge of my blade, carving through it like butter.

Still holding my scabbard in my left hand, I twisted around so as to not slice open his neck. I brought the old leather sheath around and smacked it across the back of his exposed head, sending him tumbling forward.

Spinning on the sole of my foot, I found my blade's crimson edge embedded deep into the brute's bloodied club. My sheath, held in a reverse grip smashed against the other club and I found myself sandwiched between the two.

I felt my arms buckle and strain under the weight, my knees quivering. I couldn't last like this, so I simply chose something else.

Taking in a deep breath, strength welled up within me. I lifted up my foot and kicked the bandit between the legs, causing him to tumble to his knees with a very bright, very red face. Freeing my other hand, I flipped the sheath from my reverse grip and thrust it towards the brute that was trying to crush me.

He narrowly dodged by leaning his head back but that simply allowed me to push onward. My muscles bulged underneath my clothes as my blade sheared through the bloodied club, leaving a clean cut.

My sword of crimson red blurred towards him and I saw his thin eyes snap wide, filled with shaking fear.

His body thudded to the floor. I stood over him, my red blade gleaming. One of its edges dripped with a thin line of blood, catching the sun's golden gaze. I stood over the fallen bandit, breathing heavily and my heart hammering.

Stopping the slight shaking in my hand by force of will, I placed the tip of my blade under the chin of the fallen bandit scum who glared balefully up at me.

It was only half as effective as it would've been considering it was only one eye. With heaving breaths, he held a single bloody hand to his other eye. Rivulets of sticky wet blood ran down the side of his open, his fleshy cheeks separating into two bloody flaps.

Dragons, I could see his damned teeth. Yellowed and chipped, they were.

I pushed the tip of the blade just a minuscule amount under his chin and I was rewarded by feeling his throat bulge and throb. I felt rather than heard his gulp and he gave a shaky nod.

I let my blade's tip sit at the edge of his throat for a moment longer. I could feel his thumping heart through my blade, taste his fear on the naked still winds. Smell his blood waft up my nose, a spicy metallic tang that singed the hairs of my nostrils.

I should kill him. Just a quick thrust, a flick of my wrist. That's all it would take.

But standing here, looking down at this ugly piece of human filth, I felt my hand stay itself. The fire that raged within me, an inferno that bubbled the blood in my veins was gone. Smothered dead by a nibbling thought in the back of my head that kept whispering to me.

It said that this wasn't what I trained for. This wasn't the point of martial arts.

And despite everything, my hand wouldn't move.

"You are going to go back to whatever hole you crawled out of and you will never darken this village with your vile presence again," My voice was mellow but my words sharpened themselves on the air. The oversized bandit snarled at me and the disgusting bloody visage made my teeth itch.

"If you don't, I'll gouge out your other eye so I'll be the last thing you ever see," I lowered my blade from his jugular and he jerked his head up and down. I turned around, wiping the glass blade on the sheath's opening as I did so. With a final click, the blade slid into its home and I made sure to look at each vagrant in the eye as they stood up and walked after their maimed leader.

I made sure to watch each thug hobble or scurry away from my sight. It wasn’t until people started to leave the safety of their homes that I felt my grip soften on my sword. Clearing my throat, I gave the gathering crowd the brightest smile I’ve ever put on.

“My humblest apologies that all of you had to see something so uncouth, good people of Bladefall. But rest assured, no more blood will be shed today. You have my word,” I spoke loudly and it took greater effort than I’d like to keep my voice from faltering.

“And be at ease,” I carried on as the crowd murmured amongst themselves, “If they do come back, you only need to ask for aid. The Five Blades Sect will look after its own, you have my word.”

That brought no small amount of peace to the farmers and bladesmiths, I could tell. Thankful smiles and praises were heaped upon me along with questions about my blade but I brushed them all off with a smile that felt brittle on my own face. I looked over to the old owner of the blade I had stolen and I felt my smile falter for a second.

There was a careful, neutral look to his old and lined face. He merely jerked his head back and walked into the smithy, not even bothering to close the door.

This will not end well, I thought. I sucked in a deep breath and after making sure everything was alright, walked back to the smithy. I kept my smile until I crossed the doorway and closed the door behind me.

The old blacksmith watched me, his arms crossed against his chest. He didn't say anything but that only made his heavy gaze all the worse for it. I cleared my throat, handing out the blade that I had taken.

"I believe this belongs to you?" My sheepish smile wasn't returned and without a word, he snatched the blade from me. A part of me was pained to be parted with such a fine instrument but I ignored that feeling.

"First time you ever cut a man like that?"

The question threw me off. I felt something rise up from my throat, but I swallowed it. It burned on the way down and I slowly nodded. My hands clenched and unclenched, moist with my own sweat.

Shen shook his head at me, placing the sword down on the counter. He sighed, his shoulders heaving with the motion before he turned his attention back on me.

"Why didn't you just kill them, Luo?" Shen's question wasn't thrown at me like a dagger. Instead, it was heavy and quiet and that made it all the worse.

I shifted my eyes to look beyond Shen's unending stare and slowly, I shook my head, "It's not what I trained for. I'm not some sort of butcher, Shen."

As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew they were the wrong thing to say.

"That's the biggest load of shit you've ever spewed at me, boy," Shen's voice turned dark, almost growling. His hard eyes creased with anger, his thin lips peeled back and showing off his chipped, yellowed teeth.

"The point of sects like Five Blades is to exalt the blade and martial arts. Not to kill," My words were spat out as if they were sparks from a forge, my expression carefully blank even as Shen spat at my feet.

"The whole point of a sword is to turn men into ghosts! To turn children into orphans and women into widows!" It felt like the entire smithy rumbled with the old man's roar. My spine went rigid, my hands clenched and my mouth felt dry.

"You've spent your whole life studying how to kill, nothing else! Don't delude yourself, boy!" My nostrils flared and I felt my nails bite into the palm of my head. Anger, hot and red, built up within me but I couldn't bring myself to say anything.

"Whether by blade or fist, a martial artist or a common bandit, the end result is the same. Someone is dead at your feet and you have to live with that," Shen's voice lowered into almost a whisper and for a moment, I didn't think he was looking at me. The moment passed quickly and once again, I was pinned beneath his steely stare.

"But you buckled. And these people will pay the price for that."

"No, they won't!" My temper flared for a brief moment before I centred myself and I met Shen's stare, "I won't let that happen, you have my word. And what did you want me to do? Just stand by and watch this unfold in front of me?"

"Sometimes it's just better not to get involved at all."

"That's a weakling's way of thinking," I snapped at Shen who snorted back at me, "Maybe you're fine with just standing aside but I refuse to be nothing more than another face in the crowd."

"Of course you'd say that," Shen's scoff was final and cutting. There were many things that were on the edge of my tongue that were just itching to lash out.

But I didn't bother. The old fool would never change his mind and there was no point arguing. What was done was done and I had to talk with sifu. No doubt these crimes had been going on longer than I had originally thought. If they could just go around and assault people in the streets without fear of reprisal, then something had to be done.

Inwardly, I was still surprised by what I saw. While Bladefall wasn't under the protection of the Five Blades Sects, we were still close to each other. Either they were very brave or very stupid bandits that we were dealing with.

"Here," Shen threw a sheathed blade at me, my blade. I caught it easily enough and strapped it to my waist. The old fossil shook his head, turning his back to me.

I didn't know whether he could feel me glaring into the back of his head as he went into the back and slammed the door but I hoped he could. Standing there impotently for a moment, I sighed and left the blacksmith.

Closing the door behind me, I found my gaze drawn between my sword and the smithy. My heart panged with old memories from my youth and the time I forged this blade right here.

I think the old man was trying to send me a message back then. He was always…weird about weaponry. Never made a sword, a spear or axe as long as I have known him.

Considering I grew up with his daughter as a playmate, I counted that as a long time.

This was the first time I've ever seen him so visceral, however. It was obvious something happened to the old man in the past but he never opened up about it. Not to me or Ti.

But it didn't take a savant to know why. The details were just hidden.

I shook my head as if to get rid of the cobwebs in my thoughts. I looked up at the sun and realised it was little past noon.

Well. I suppose I had my work cut out for me.

The soft orange glow of the lamp pushed back the encroaching darkness around me. Underneath me, I heard faint chatter. I wondered if they could hear my feet wearing through the floorboard as they paced back and forth but I gave it little thought or worry.

The first thing I did was check on Ti and the wounded villager. The bleeding had been stopped by Bladefall's apothecary and he was still breathing but whether he woke up again was another question entirely. Head wounds were nothing to scoff at.

I asked around about recent events. As it turns out, the oaf whose eye I had gouged was new but his lackeys were seen around the village as far back as a couple of weeks ago. They were rambunctious but they never attacked anyone.

Whether that was because people were too scared to approach them or they openly carried around weapons to deter people in the first place, I couldn't begin to guess.

There had also been no travellers or merchants recently. But somehow, these bandits always had the jade script and coinage to pay for their meals and weapons.

And that was another thing.

They were buying weapons. Food and weapons with a seemingly endless amount of jade script and coin.

Something was brewing but I couldn't tell what. Did they plan to raid the village? How long have they been planning this? Was it really just a group of them or were there more, lurking just beyond the veil?

I felt the urge to gallop to the sect and ask sifu to resolve the issue but I didn't want to leave Bladefall alone to defend itself. For all I know, the attack might happen this very night and they needed someone to take the lead if that happened.

So I watched. Paid for the highest room of the teahouse and looked out of its windows, standing guard.

The restless feeling inside me was like a coiled snake, ready to strike at any time. But there were no mice or rats to hunt. I looked out of the open window and I saw the full moon high in the sky. For a moment, I distracted myself with the sight of Bladefall and the sect grounds, cast in silver by the graceful moon.

I felt my restlessness lessen, if just a tiny bit. I leaned against the frame of the oval window, looking across the seemingly endless road that led to the sect. The lands around us were mostly hilly areas with patches of forests here and there. If I had to wager, the bandits were hiding in the closest one, just a stone's throw away from Bladefall.

Instinctively, my gaze was drawn to the old man's smithy. As soon as I saw the lights lit through the window, a weird mix of emotions swirled in my mind.

Indignation. Anger, frustration and not a small amount of regret.

Shen's words still rattled in my skull despite my best efforts to forget them. I closed my eyes and I saw the look in his eyes, how he seemed to age before my very eyes.

I could not use essence. I couldn't cultivate it, I couldn't become enlightened. But I took the teachings of the Five Blades Sects to heart, far more than the snakes that call themselves dragons.

My blade wasn't a tool for killing. It would never be that. It was a tool to further my own understanding of the world.

Or at least, it should be.

Tearing my gaze away from the smithy, I looked down at my hand and I remember how easy it was to cut a man. To cripple him beyond repair, to lay him down low before me.

I reacted on instinct. It was the first time I had ever fought anyone outside the sect. But I didn't expect it to end like that.

Except. What did I even expect in the first place? I didn't know. I didn't really think about it.

Could it be that I was actually more naive than I first thought?

A heavy exhale escaped through my nose and I reached into my robe. Pulling out my flute, I decided to clear my head for now.

One thing at a time. Deal with the bandits and then talk with sifu. And after that?

I had no idea. Alone in my room, I smirked without humour as I put the flute to my lips.

And I started to play.

The soft, comforting music drifted out of my window and slipped into Bladefall. My breathing was slow and steady, my fingers played with practised grace and I closed my eyes, all the better to let the music flow.

And for a moment, I let my worries and fears just slide away. For the first time today, my mind wasn't occupied by the baleful glare of a one-eyed vagrant or the hollow look of Shen.

It was just me and my redwood flute. Nothing more, nothing less and that was good enough for me.

I didn't know how long I played. I guess it didn't really matter because the screaming started soon after I had finished.

My eyes snapped enough. My posture became rigid and my hand leapt to my blade. And yet, the village remained unharmed.

Because it wasn't the village that was burning. Far off in the distance, I could hear screaming. Far off in the distance, I saw it.

The Tower of Blades was burning a sickly green.

I didn't quite know when I got onto my horse or how I did it. It was all a blur and the possibility that I leapt from my window wasn't small. I could feel my knees ache but it was nothing compared to the utter coldness that was enclosing around my heart.

The world around me became numb. I ignored someone calling after me, I ignored the gathering crowds, I ignored it all.

But what I didn't ignore were the students. My fellow pupils in the study of the blade.

They were running away.

"You!" My bellowing voice was raw and commanding. My horse whinnied and reared up as I forcefully tugged the reins. I forced a group of fleeing students to stay put, getting in their way.

And imagine my utter surprise that they were led by Cathak Trella of all people.

I numbly noticed their injuries, some cradling broken arms or suffering from severe burns. One of them had three ugly, raw scars going down their face, tearing off their lips. I believed they might be a girl, going by how they were crying.

Worthless. All of them, worthless.

Trella, the damned snake, had the audacity to scowl at me. She didn't seem that injured, only suffering some burns, "Luo, you mutt! If you know what's good for you, you'll start running!"

"Shut your whore mouth!" I snapped and Trella's scowl was wiped away by my words, "What is going on?! Why aren't you defending the sect!?"

"A-anathema! T-They just attacked us out of nowhere!" One of them spoke up and my heart sunk into my stomach.

Anathema? Here? On the Blessed Isle of all places?

And I thought bandits were my biggest worry.

"What about the teachers? What about Lady Silk-Touch? What happened to them?" The words left me in a hurry, spilling out. The looks I received only made the icy fear gripping my heart that much worse.

"They were the first ones to die. But sifu is still fighting," Trella told me and for once, her voice wasn't harsh and grating when speaking to me, "Lady Silk-Touch, she…she and the others told us to run. Luo, Lady Silk-Touch told me-"

I didn't hear the rest of it. I couldn't. Without another word, I had spurred my tired horse on once again and the baleful glow of verdant flames started to fall upon me now. I heard the snake behind me start to cry out something but I ignored her.

Fine then. Let the cowards and weaklings make their own choice. Let them suffer under their own inequity, their own worthlessness.

I am but a crippled mortal, riding to his death. But I will not stand by and let my home burn. I will not let the woman I owe everything to die at the hands of demons.

Weak I may be, but that was no choice of mine. Cowardice was a choice and it was one that I always refused.

The grand oaken doors that I had just passed by yesterday morning were now little more than burning cinders. When my horse refused to get any closer to the hellish verdant fires, I leapt from its back. I ignored how the greenish fire seemed to voraciously inch towards me, hounding after my every step.

I ignored how many bodies were burning and the smell of burning charred meat was all around me. My clogged throat felt heavy, my eyes burned with tears as the smoke covered my vision.

I saw the charred remains of people I had breakfast with. I saw their lifeless gaze, staring skyward as sickly green-hued flames consumed their melting, bubbling flesh. I saw their blades, made and forged with their own hands, broken into scrap. Turning into slag.

I was surrounded by nothing but the silent dead and roaring fires of hell. Despite the blistering heat buffeting me, despite the way my clothes became singed and burnt, despite the way sweat fell down my face and drenched my clothes, I kept running.

I run past the hall where I learned the twenty-four forms of Tepet Ren, a famous Immaculate monk that had participated in ten Wyld Hunts. I ran past the training arena, now little more than rubble and crushed corpses. I breathed in fire and exhaled death with each step I took.

This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be happening.

It felt like the dead were staring at me as I dashed by them. Almost as though, if I took even a step closer to them, they would spring up and lunge at me for my betrayal and weakness.

I didn't know when I reached the Tower of Blade. It felt like it took me the entire night of walking through the field of burning dead. I didn't know when I held my unsheathed blade in a trembling grasp.

I was numb. Cold. Even more so when I found myself in front of the burning tower. I was buffeted by waves of hellish heat but even they couldn't melt the icy grip of fear on my heart.

Especially when I found myself witness to a stygian abyss. In the distance, my sifu's ocean-blue anima swirled and mixed until it became a raging waterfall. Besides it, mingling and merging, was an abyssal depth so black, so dark, that it made my soul shudder painfully in my body. My eyes darted away, but my legs had a mind of their own. 

I ran. I ran and I ran towards the hauntingly beautiful sounds of blades clashing. And there, I saw something that drove me to a dead stop. The teachers were strewn apart, hacked into bloody chunks and their insides squirming around as they were exposed to the midnight air. Blood, so much blood, formed a pool and painted the burning cinders a pinkish-green hue in their reflection. 

But that was only faintly on my mind. Sifu-Tura, my mother-She stood there, her shoulders quaking, her robes scorched and rent, her daiklave held loosely in her hand and she was-

Why? Why was she-?

From within the stygian abyss, a shape formed. It stared through me and my legs gave out from underneath me. Two, fish-like dead eyes watched me and I was a prisoner in my own body. Shackled by invisible, cold chains as my sifu once again, without even looking back at me, threw herself with wild abandon at the fish-eyed demon. 

And I knew what true horror looked like. 

Two weeks ago, I lost everything. When I awoke, the fires of hell had passed and all that was left were cinders and charred corpses. All I had to show for my defiance and smoldering rage was a broken sword and a few broken ribs to accompany it.

I found comfort in the bottom of a bottle. Where once everyone greeted me with respect and deference, only pitied looks were given to me.

Ti and Shen gave me shelter, all but forcing it on me. I couldn't look them in the eye anymore, couldn't bear to see the same expression on their faces as the others.

I ate, drank and slept. I didn't know why I was left alive when so many of my fellow pupils died, those that had the courage to fight at least.

I didn't know when I wandered away from Bladefall. Maybe I was just dragged away.

I didn't care. What more could be taken away from me?

"Bastard!" My back flared in pain as I was shoved against something and the cold iron against my neck dug into my skin, "I'll gut you for that!"

"Makhse surhe to wear an apron," My words came out in a drunken slur, "Orsh you'll get dirtshy."

"You think you're funny, huh?" The bandit snarled at me and I wonder if his breath smelled worse than mine, "You took out Orlo's eye and slashed his cheek. Think it'll be funny if we return the favour?"

The wandering edge of the dagger stopped when I laughed in his face. It wasn't a good laugh.

"An eysh for an eysh?" I blurted out, the corners of my mouth curling. I couldn't really make out the features of the thug but his wandering dagger came to a sudden stop. Whatever was holding me up let me drop to the ground and I didn't bother to stand back up.

"This isn't working," The bandit mumbled to himself more than anything, "Take whatever's valuable on him and let's go."

"Wait, are we just leaving him alone? After what he did?"

"Let Orlo have him. There's no fun in this," The bandit grumbled and I suddenly found myself being patted down. I didn't bother doing anything.

What would've been the point? What else could I lose that mattered?

"Don't even have the decency to have any jade script or silver on you," The bandit spat on me as he spoke, only adding to the muck on my old robes. I expected them to leave me but they stood around me, waiting for something.

"You know, I heard you were living with an old man and a woman," That caused my heart to crawl up my throat, "A fine thing as well. You wouldn't care if I paid her a visit, would you?"

Laughter erupted around me, echoing into the dark night and deep forest. The corners of my lips fell. The haze of my mind was brushed away and the laughter turned into a single scream.

"My foot! My fucking foot!" One of the bandits screamed. He tried kicking me off but considering I had twisted his foot until I felt the bones break and snap, it wasn't very effective.

There were others though and they kicked me off. Fists and kicks landed on my prone form but I didn't feel any pain, only a dull thudding.

If fire didn't rage within my veins, I would've marvelled at what the human body could do if it was pushed far enough. Instead, all I did was fall upon another screaming bandit. The back of my head pulsated in radiant pain but not before both of my thumbs found their mark and I pushed in deep.

It wasn't too dissimilar from squashing a grape.

Blood spurted out. Clear fluids soaked my thumbs. Screams rose into the night and I was eventually forced off. I think my skull cracked under a club's blow but I didn't care.

It was shockingly hard to put down a dead man when he started walking.

I lumbered up to my feet and stared down the remaining bandits, only three. One had a bloodied club, another a knife and one even had a sword. Not counting the two currently on the ground, blind, crippled and screaming.

"Fuck it! Kill him!" The one with a knife screamed at the other two and they lunged at me. Blood, hot and boiling, dropped down my face and there was nothing quite so sobering as the thought of losing more people dear to me.

I had a choice to make and I made it quickly. I lunged towards the swordsman, fists raised and a rising flame in my heart.

It wasn't a very smart move, in hindsight. Drunk, delirious and already half-dead, it didn't come as a shock to me that I was impaled on the sword.

Feeling the sharp edge of a blade pierce my stomach. The weapon and tool that I consider almost an extension of myself.

I wonder if this sharp, jagged feeling was betrayal or the fact that I simply had a sword in my stomach. Maybe it was both.

It felt like time had slowed as I looked down, the sword hilt deep in me. Warm, red blood started seeping out of me and I locked eyes with the person who had killed me.

Dragons, he was ugly. And the fear and shock in his eyes weren't a reflection of my own.

I acted more on instinct than anything else. My hands leapt up and I gripped his jaw and head. He only managed a single yell before I snapped his neck and his body crumpled to the floor.

The first person I killed. And it wasn't even with a sword. The irony would've been enough to make me laugh if I wasn't already spitting blood.

Again, I found my eyes locking onto the knife wielding bandit. He took a step back, his mouth open slightly and his face pale. I looked him deep in the eyes when I grabbed the blade embedded in my stomach and pulled.

I've had my fingers broken from training. My muscles burn with exhaustion. Ribs shattered, shoulders dislocated. Ankles twisted, deep cuts on my person. Shards of metal thrown at me when I used the forge.

None of that compared to pulling a sword out of my stomach. The pure, white-hot sparks that danced across my vision. The way my hands trembled with every inch and I had to force them, like I was someone else controlling my body. My mind cried out for me to stop, to not hurt myself anymore. My heart was a constant, powerful drum in my chest as if it was trying to escape my ribcage.

I didn't care. Not about myself, not anymore.

The bandit holding the club tried to run away but I pierced his heart from the back. Every step was heavy, chained. Every breath I took was weaker than the last.

"W-what the hell are you?" The last bandit whispered, pointing his dagger at me. The fact that it was trembling didn't deter me. The fact that I had already been stabbed with a sword almost made it seem laughable.

I took a silent step forward. He went to gut me but years of training couldn't be washed away so easily. He fell to the ground, soaking the grass with his blood. His hand clenched at his open throat but I simply turned my attention to the others.

Once, twice, thrice and four times. I made sure they were dead and when I was satisfied, I fell against the trunk of a tree.

It was hard now, keeping my eyes open. I felt cold. Wet. Alone. Maybe even scared.

It was a sobering experience, to realise that I had been wrong all my life. And maybe even Tura.

The sword wasn't a tool for enlightenment. Shen was right. A sword's lone use was to kill, nothing more, nothing less. I had been simply been a fool all these years without understanding that simple truth.

I wanted to say sorry. To Ti, to Shen. They were there for me but I shoved them aside. I hoped at least, this would make up for some of it.

I expected to die, alone and in silence.

"There Is No Justice In This World."

The voice wasn't booming. It wasn't loud but for some reason, I could feel it envelop me. I could feel it slide into the cracks of my mind, embedding itself into my soul.

"There Is No Justice. But There Is A Law, So Decree I; The Strong Rule And The Weak Worship Them For It."

Even at death's door, I couldn't escape a lecture.

"But You Have Already Witnessed This Law, haven't you, Luo? The Deathknight That Murdered Your Teacher. The Rabble That Hunger For Control And Dominance."

Was this just the last gasp of my fading mind? If so, it was certainly a grandiose way to go out. But if not…who, or what, was talking to me? I weakly twisted my head around but I found nothing.

"Who," It hurt to even open my mouth, let alone summon up the strength to speak, "Who are you? What do you want with me?"

"My Names Are Legion. They Are Not For You To Know. But I Offer You A Chance, Mortal. A Chance To Live For Yourself And For Something Far Greater."

From the hazy edges of my vision, I saw something glitter. It landed on my hand and it was all I could do to turn my head to look at it. It felt coarse, rough and infinitely small.

And it was silver.

"But Even Greater Still, I Offer You This, Luo: Become A Sword Of Hell. My Silver Blade And Vengeance Will Be Yours. Refuse And Die Here, Pathetic And Weak. Laid Low By Serfs And Wretches."

Vengeance. If there was a sweeter word to my ears, I haven't heard it yet nor do I ever expect to. A guttering heat started to flare up within me and I used the embers of my strength to keep my eyes open.

"If you exist," I didn't know if this voice could hear me whispering or not. I didn't even know if I was simply going mad from the loss of blood but I didn't care.

If I could get revenge, if I could carry on the name of Tura Silk-Touch and the Five Blades Sects.

What price was too high? What else could be taken from me?

"Show yourself," I demanded with all of the finality of a dead man, "I want to see who I'm talking with."

Silence was my answer. At first. More of those strange silver things started to gather around me and without warning, there was someone standing in front of me.

I would say my breath was taken away, if there was any left to take.

She glided into the blood-soaked surroundings. Her clear pale skin reflected the moonlight like immaculate porcelain. Her scandalous robe was so faint, so light that it glided upon the bloodied grass. Even as its edges were stained red, the contrast only made the woman all that more alluring. Her waspish waist, her long legs and healthy plump thighs. Her delicate hands with midnight nails, almost claw-like in how they curled ever so slightly. Her bountiful, heavy breasts almost seemed to spill out from her robes. Her long, silky dark hair flowed behind her like a river of midnight and two large buns were pierced by two curved blades.

She was, without a doubt, the most gorgeous woman I had ever seen.

It was such a striking contrast. Such a sight to behold that, for the first time in my life, I found myself at a loss for words. If there was enough blood left in me, I wonder if I would've blushed at her demure, alluring smile with kissable, blood-red lips.

I most likely would've cared about how her eyes were like two gold discs with a black slit inside of them. But I couldn't tear my gaze away from hers and she lowered herself to me.

"…Who are you?" I asked faintly, the first one to break the silence between us.

"My name is Last Whisper and I was chosen to serve you," She spoke softly, gently. It was the kind of voice that I expect most dead men would wish to hear as they lie dying in a blood-soaked field or in their beds.

A noise escaped my bloody lips. It was a chuckle but deep and wheezing.

"It wasn't you, was it? Speaking to me?"

"No, not me. The one who spoke did so through me, however," She laid her hand on mine and it took away the coldness of the grave that had latched onto me.

"…If I say no," It was a strain to even hear my own voice anymore, "What happens to you?"

She blinked at that and her smile changed. Darkness started to take the edges of my vision now and my eyelids felt so heavy.

"Then I suppose we'll both die, good sir. Quite romantic, no?"

My chuckle came out as a wheeze and for the first time since I lost everything, I smiled once more.

"I can't complain about dying next to such a beautiful woman," I spoke softly and her chuckle would've aroused feelings within me if I wasn't so cold.

"Hmmm, I can't quite say the same. I would like to live next to such a handsome boy rather than die alongside him. Death, I find, is overrated."

"Quite..so," I whispered and I just felt so tired. So heavy.

"Until…death do us part then…Lady Whisper," Was the last thing I said and the world around me grew dark.

Whisper's chuckle followed me into my slumber, even as it turned into something else, "As you wish, my Prince. Until death do us part."

The cold was chased off by something warm and wet, but I fell asleep all the same.

At the very least, I managed to protect Shen and Ti. At the very least, I was actually of some use in the end.

Chapter Text

To my grand surprise, I found my eyes opening once more and fresh air entering my lungs. My entire body dripped with some sort of thick, syrupy soup. In vain, I tried to wipe away the strange gunk from my eyes but it was an effort to lift up my heavy limbs.

Even when my eyes opened, it was a barrage of images, sounds, smells and words. I was there and not there, here and not here. My fists clench and unclench, striking against something. I felt my mouth words, unfamiliar words passing through lips that were not my own.

Images of things that should’ve meant something to me but didn’t, flashed across my open eyes. I felt grass and stone underneath my hands, the clean air mixing with the fetid stench of rotting corpses.

Faces, oh the faces. They were the worst. Women and men, some smiling, some crying, all passionate. But then they were consumed in verdant flames, their eyes bubbling and melting in their hollow, burnt-out sockets. The dead screamed silently in my ears, whispering to me.

Why didn’t you die with us? Where were you? We trusted you. They would ask me and I couldn’t answer back because three voices within me gave three different answers. But all that passed through my lips were a pathetic, choked gasp because it was the only thing we could offer to the silent dead.

During all of it, a pair of fishy, glassy eyes watched me from the shadows. Judging me.

It was a nightmare. A pure, utter nightmare and I didn’t quite know when it ended or started. For a moment, I thought this was it. For my crime of surviving when everyone around me fell, I was denied reincarnation and instead condemned into an eternal hell of reliving my failure time and time again.

When my eyes opened, really opened, it was almost a relief I was face to face with a lifeless corpse.

My heart hammered in my chest as my whole body jerked away by itself. I felt the slick sludge on me fling off with the sudden movement but it still clung to every part of me.

It was a slightly sweet fluid but I spat it out on reflex. I could tell it was the dead of night but the area was bathed in a sickly green glow of some kind. For a moment, I froze. My mind went blank as I could smell the smouldering ash, taste the cinders of the dead on my tongue.

I had been trying to wash out that taste for two weeks. I had been-

Wait.

I could smell? I could taste?

My hand, shaking but not weak, went to my stomach. I dared a glance when I looked down and I saw nothing. No scar, no blood. No writhing organs slipping out between my fingers.

And no clothes as well. I was naked, I noted with distant apathy.

Naked, confused, covered in some strange soupy liquid and surrounded by decaying corpses while bathed in some sort of unearthly green glow. I can safely say that this wasn’t really an ideal way to wake up.

But I was alive. I could feel my heartbeat. I could feel the mild midnight air on my skin and I felt it enter and leave my lungs with each breath that I took.

I was alive. Despite everything, I was alive.

At some point, I don’t quite know if it was seconds or minutes after realizing this fact, I started chuckling. It reverberated in my chest and threatened to break out into unhinged laughter but I held back.

Memories of last night came back to me in a slow trickle. A voice, a choice. A woman.

“...Lady Whisper?” I spoke aloud and my voice was smooth to my surprise. Smoother, silkier, almost husky even. It was my voice without a doubt but there was just something different about it.

I didn’t receive an answer. I looked around the dark forest, the empty silence weighing down on me. Eventually, my gaze landed on the corpses around me. The blood that…that I had spilt was encrusted on the blades of grass and the trunks of trees. All of them were missing limbs, torn off by scavengers no doubt. Their exposed flesh still seemed fresh to the eyes but the fetid stench in the air said otherwise.

Some had their eyes removed, their fleshy empty eye sockets staring at nothing. I felt my stomach churn and turn at the sight but the truth was, that was only a physical reaction.

I had killed these men with my own hand. Snapped their necks, slit their throats. I remember striking them down while my organs were slipping out of my stomach, barely holding on to the fraying strand of my life. It was rage and willpower that bought me the strength necessary to cut them down.

And it would be a lie to say that I felt nothing. Because the truth was, I did feel something.

I felt proud. Proud and relaxed. Proud because my years of training had finally come into use and relaxed because these scum, these animals wearing human skin would’ve hurt Shen and Ti.

Maybe that was a betrayal of Tura’s teachings and of the Five Blades sect; The sword represented the swordsman, she often said. What kind of swordsman lets his blade be bathed in blood?

I guess it didn’t matter anymore. My blade was broken. Little more than a jagged hilt.

I forced myself up on steady feet and I saw the quickly fading green glow shift with me. I stopped for a moment and looked down at myself, focusing more on the fact that it was I that was the source of this ethereal light.

And like that, it hit me. Letting out a shuddering breath, my fingers curled slowly into fists. I lifted up my arms and the faint glow moved with me. I had seen it too many times to mistake it for anything else.

Anima. It was anima.

The impossibility of it pressed itself on my mind but I didn’t question it. I had never felt so light, so clear-headed before. Most importantly, I felt strong. Like I could take on Creation and win.

For a moment, I simply lost myself in the feeling of that glow and I felt my lips curl up into a smile for what felt like years. But then I noticed something at my feet and I saw it was my flagon. Bending down, I picked it up and saw that it held a few drops of raw alcohol left.

I was already lifting it up to my lips before I stopped myself. Something, just in the corner of my eye shone for a brief second. Stopping myself, I took a deeper look and my expression curdled at the sight.

It reminded me of a sore or a cocoon, recently torn apart and dripping with the same liquid that covered me. The insides were fleshy and thick with warm wet walls while the outside was shiny and translucent. In it, I found my crinkled expression reflected and something shone on my forehead. It was an image of some kind and if there was any doubt left in me, it was washed away.

Two brass blades glinting with a verdant shine blazed upon my brow. My hand went through it like it didn’t exist but I could feel it nonetheless. And there I was, surrounded by anima.

Holding a damned, almost empty flagon of ale.

What was I doing? What have I been doing? Losing myself to drink, finding comfort in sake and ale? And now the first thing I’m going to do after coming back from the dead is drink some more? Naked, surrounded by corpses in a forest?

What would come next when the drink wasn’t enough? Drugs? Women?

Without a second thought, I threw away the flagon and it was like a weight had been lifted from me.

Never again. I had a second chance now, a real chance. I wasn’t going to waste it by drinking myself to an early grave again.

Things were different now. I felt it, in my very core. I had many questions but none of them mattered right now. I had no idea how much time had passed and I didn’t really fancy being caught naked and alone.

First things first. I needed to talk with Shen and Ti. I…had some apologies to make. And hopefully some new clothes.

It was still night when I stumbled and found my way back to Bladefall. The anima, my anima that is, around me had quickly dissipated into nothing thankfully. The mark on my forehead was the last to fade away and it did so slowly as if it wanted to cling on to the very last scraps of time left.

When we were younger, Ti and I often sneaked out to explore and play around as young kids were wont to do. It was thanks to this that I made it to the back of Shen's smithy without anyone seeing me.

I may no longer be the flawless young master in the eyes of Bladefall but I still have some dignity. Walking up to the backdoor, I gave it a few light but quick knocks.

“Ti? Old man?” I whispered loudly, followed by utter silence. I knocked again, glancing around to see if I was still alone. I had one hand covering my privates but it was more for courtesy if anything.

"Ti, wake the hell up! It's Luo!" My whispering grew into a forceful hiss but the silence was still my unfortunate answer. The urge to just barge in was there but I didn't want to scare Ti and her father to death.

Again, I went up to knock but I stopped myself. I heard something slowly unlatch from the door but it didn't open.

"Luo? Is that really you?"

Any embarrassment, any shame I felt was drained away by the weak, faint voice of Ti behind that thin wooden door.

"Ti? Ti, are you hurt? Is something wrong?" My concern for decency fell to the wayside. When I didn't receive an answer, my hand shot towards the door and I all but tore it from its rusted hinges.

There, I found Ti staring at me with wide, reddish eyes. She was wearing a thin patchy robe, holding its front closed with one hand. It would've been scandalous to see but her red eyes brimmed with wet tears and her lips quaked.

"Ti?" I spoke numbly which is all I could do before I was suddenly tackled to the ground. I wondered what it could've looked like from the outside. Something wrong no doubt, but the ugly, wretched sobbing as my friend squeezed the life out of me couldn't be mistaken for anything else.

I didn't know what to say. Should I even say anything? I didn't know. Ignoring my own nudity for now, I simply hugged her back and she started crying even harder. Her usual exuberant expression was twisted and marred, even as she pushed it into my chest.

After some time, I managed to eventually come face to face with Ti, wet snot and tears running down her face. She sniffed and rubbed at her painfully red eyes, trying to wipe away the tears that wouldn't stop coming.

"Luo, where have you been?" She spoke softly but her voice sounded dry and raspy, "I-I thought you were dead. I was told they had taken you to the woods, and and-!"

"I'm fine, Ti. I'm here, I'm okay," I cupped her cheek to comfort her and she rubbed her eyes again. I looked down at her and the poor girl was shaking in my arms.

Was this my fault, I wondered? Would my death have really brought her to this point of grief?

I never really thought about it. What effect my death would have on Ti and Shen, that is. Was it selfish of me that I never thought about it or was it simply ignorance? Or was I so caught up in my grief, that I never gave a second thought beyond what had happened that fateful night?

"Luo, where the hell have you been?!" The wetness in Ti's deep green eyes lit up with a bonfire of explosive anger, gnashing her teeth at me, "You spend all day getting drunk and then the last thing I hear is you being dragged away by those bandits! You didn't even put up a fight! And now, now you just show up!?"

"Ti, wha-?"

"What have you even been doing?! Where did you go?!" The whole of Bladefall was probably awoken by Ti's raspy shouting but I didn't care about that right now.

"Ti-"

"And where are your clothes?!"

"Ti!" I finally snapped and I gripped her by the shoulders. I felt her go stiff at the sound of my voice and her wide bulged out eyes met mine.

"Where is Shen? Where's your father?"

My old friend didn't say anything else. She couldn't look me in the eye anymore. Only a pained, heavy silence followed. My blood rushed in my ears, the drumming of my beating heart drowning out the silence. My throat clenched tightly and any words I could've said died on my lips.

Ti took in a quaking breath and she pulled herself away from me. She stood up and I did the same, wordlessly following her inside her home.

Please. Please, just say something. Don't do this to me, Ti. Not this.

She stops in front of a door at the end of a hallway that felt longer and darker than it had any right to be. She looked over to me one last time with tired, red eyes and I could see the disbelief, fear and the flicker of bitter hate. But she looked away and gently knocked on the door.

“Pa? You awake?” She asked in the most vulnerable tone I’ve ever heard speak in. Every word trembled and shook with effort and grief that made the dark pit in my stomach heavier. There was no sound behind the door for what felt like hours and I was about to speak up before I was interrupted by the sound of rustling.

“Ti? Ti, what’s wrong?” The muffled voice of Shen spoke out and a breath I didn’t even know I was holding left my lips.

He’s alive. She’s alive. Thank the heavens, the dragons and everything between them. Not everyone has been taken from me.

“Luo is here. He’s back,” She spoke quietly and Shen said nothing in response. No sooner than I opened my mouth did I hear something thud heavy against the floor and a pained-filled groan echoed out.

“Well-”

Faster than I’ve ever seen her move in all my life, Ti barreled through the door and the sound of the metal knob hitting the wall echoed out like a ringing bell. My heart sunk further into my chest as I quickly followed through with her.

I entered the old man’s bedroom and with a lit candle on by the bedside table, I could see Ti kneeling by the bed. Down on the floor was Shen, fallen face first and groaning while Ti tried to pick him up.

“You’re not so old that you need help getting out of bed, Shen,” The words came out of me softly and gently. I knelt down to his other side and my hands went down to grab his arm and help him up.

“Oh yeah. I would recognize that arrogant bastard’s tone anywhere,” Shen lets out a choked chortle and it was good to hear him again. But my smile froze when my hands grabbed at air and Ti managed to pull him up without my help. I reached out further and my hands only touched the wooden floor.

I was aware of Ti’s burning gaze biting into me. I was aware of the resentment that filled her eyes, the deep dark rings beneath her eyelids. I was aware of all of this but I couldn’t look away from how Shen sat on the bed and the candle light illuminated the stump I don’t remember him having. He sadly smiled passed me as a dirty bandage of dried, deep red blood covered his eyes. His cheeks were gaunt and hollow, his skin pale and clammy. His single arm was thin and weak looking. As if swinging his hammer would snap his arm in two. Even sitting, he swayed drunkenly but whether that was because of tiredness or the fact that he was missing a leg, I couldn’t begin to fathom.

His right arm, his left leg. His eyes. And yet, the most striking thing was the smile on his face. As if he hadn’t been made lesser. As if he hadn’t been made into a threefold cripple.

“Who did this to you?” The hollow words came through dead and quiet. Shen shook his head and it almost seemed like it would fall off with the motion.

“Not important, Luo.”

Not important? Not important?

“Where the hell have you been, Luo? We’d thought you dead,” Shen asked me and I felt my hands had curled into fists. I forced down the trembling that had taken ahold of me and the heat that threatened to bubble over.

“I-I don’t know,” I lied and it was so painfully obvious that even Ti looked upon me with doubt, “I went out into the forest. Must’ve hit my head or something.”

“So why are you naked?” Ti asked me with pointed, barbed words and I found that I couldn’t give an answer that made sense. Even the truth felt fanciful.

“He’s naked?” Shen asked as he turned his head to where Ti spoke. She started to nod before she stopped herself and she rubbed her glossy eyes.

“Yeah, he is. He just came to the back and started knocking on the door,” Ti explained to her blind and crippled father. Like him, she was unable to look me in the eye but I knew it had nothing to do with my nudity.

“I see. Ti, could you-”

“Yeah. I’ll go,” Ti said quietly and without even looking at me, she left the room. The click of the closing door held the same resonance as a jail cell closing and I was left alone with Shen with only a guttering candle light for company.

“I’m glad to hear that you’re safe, Luo. Ti’s been beside herself when we thought you had died,” Shen spoke quietly and gently but his words hit me hard. I found myself shaking my head before I realised it was pointless.

“Shen, what the hell are you talking about? I can’t have been gone for long. And you can’t-”

“You’ve been missing for five days, Luo.”

The black pit in my stomach sank at Shen’s words. Any words that came out were choked and cut off and died on my lips. In the end, I could only repeat what he said.

“Five days…? I’ve been gone for five days?”

Shen nodded slowly, “Ti told me that you had wandered out to the forest. We thought you ended it yourself.”

“Ended? W-What do you mean ended it?” I wasn’t able to stop the confusion from seeping through as I felt my head swirling thickly with thoughts and emotions layered upon each other. And then they were stilled as I felt an icy cold dread flow over me.

“You thought I killed myself!?”

“What else were we supposed to think, you foolish boy!?” Shen raised his voice and the tightness in my shoulders unwound as I wilted over his admonishment, “The school was burnt to the ground, your mother was murdered and the only comfort you found was at the bottom of a bottle. We let you live here and let you grieve alone because you wouldn’t let us help you. You’re not the first man I’ve seen who lost everything, Luo. I know exactly what path you were heading down.”

“And what do you know of what I lost, Shen?! How could you possibly fathom how I feel?!” The cold drench on me evaporated from the sudden surge of fire within my veins. My heart pumped boiling oil as my throat strained and tightened with every word.

“The woman who meant the most to me, dead! Slaughtered like an old sow and I couldn’t even have the dignity to bury her! My home, burnt down to the ground! Everything I did to make her proud and prove those pissants that dared even call themselves her students how worthless they really were was for nothing! Everything I worked for, everything I strove for was for nothing! How could you possibly understand-?!”

Shen’s eyes stared up at me. Except they didn’t because he no longer had any eyes. Instead, what stared back at me was a bloody, pus-soaked bandage. His single arm was the only thing keeping him straight on the bed and his single leg was keeping him up.

“How could you understand,” I spoke weakly like a babbling babe. The fire that was in my veins froze with something worse than dread, something worse than fear, “How could you…”

Shen didn’t say anything and that made it all the worst. Shame, pure and damning, crept in my being and drained me of my fire. Fatigue took me and I sat down on the wood in a trembling heap. My hot breaths scorched my raw and torn throat and my eyes stinged at the corners with wetness.

“Do you want to know one of life’s great secrets, Luo? Something I learned when I met Ti’s mother?” Shen spoke softly and he carried on when I didn’t say anything.

“It doesn’t really stop. Not really. What you feel now will hurt just as much as it will years from now. The only consolation I can give you is that you will simply get used to it and move on. And when you’re ready to do that, you’ll find that the world is still the same. It’s still filled with people that you can love and despise. It’s still filled with animals, lands and kingdoms. Places where people are born, live and die. The world hasn’t stopped. You have.”

I rubbed at my eyes and my voice was weak and weary, “So, what? Is that it? I’m just supposed to have this, this void in me for the rest of my life? To have these nightmares of green fires and screaming corpses ringing in my ears every time I try to sleep? To wake up, knowing that I was worthless and powerless in doing anything as my life burnt down around me? Is that it? Is that what you’re telling me?”

“Yes.”

I barked out a hollow, scratching laugh, “But that’s not fair. That’s not fair, Shen. I don’t deserve this. My mother didn’t deserve it.”

“What makes you think anyone deserves anything?” Shen asked me calmly, “We are born into this life, screaming and crying and covered in blood. Life kicks us up or down, depending on its whims and not one of us can do anything about it. And then we die. Perhaps as we came into the world, screaming and crying and covered in blood. Or as our bodies shut down and we enter our final slumber. Or we won’t even realise what has happened to us. It doesn’t matter.”

“People live. People die. And the sun and the moon rise up every morning and every night, not caring one whit for anything else. Life goes on. As long as it does, we should as well. Deserving or otherwise, it doesn’t matter. Your life is more than just one tragedy, Luo. Don’t let it become one.”

I sat there in the dark of the night and let the words soak in. They didn’t make me feel better, not really. To be told that this hurt, this agony would stay with me for the rest of my life, however long that might be now, only made it all seem miserable. What was the point of it all? Why did I live when everyone else died?

“Why are you telling me this now?” I asked Shen quietly as I didn’t trust my voice to say anything else.

“Because you’re listening now. You weren’t before,” He breathed deeply, if shakily, “I don’t know what happened, Luo. I won’t ask. It’s enough for me that you’re safe now. But you’re different now. My eyes might be gone but I can tell. Whatever happened to you has changed you. You don’t smell like you’ve just come out of the bottom of a tankard for one. If there’s ever a chance to start anew, this is it.”

Start anew. Dragons, it sounded so achingly sweet and disgustingly sour at the same time. But Shen was right. There’s only so much wallowing I can do.

“What happened to you, Shen? Who did this?” I eventually asked him and the dying candle cast a dark shadow over his smile.

“It’s a long story, Luo.”

“And the night is still young,” I fired back and he snorted at me.

“I don’t want to tell you, Luo. You’ll only blame yourself.”

I swallowed thickly through a tight throat, “I want to know, old man. I don’t want to lose you as well.”

“Oh, Luo…” Shen shook his head and it would be wrong to say he laid back down on the bed. More like he stopped supporting himself and he flopped.

“Fine, you stubborn boy. I’ll tell you. It would be nice to have something to take my mind off.”

I didn’t ask what it was he wanted to take his mind off. I didn’t think there was any point. But he started telling me what had transpired. I listened to all of it. I listened and when he was done, we didn’t talk to each other for the rest of the night.

He was right. I did blame myself. It was my fault that he was like this. Maybe that’s why he didn’t try to engage in conversation with me anymore. Maybe that’s why he thought I didn’t sleep for the rest of the night.

He was right, to a point. I didn’t sleep. I didn’t sleep because my thoughts were full of fury and hate and fire. I didn’t sleep because I spent the whole night encapsulated by rage that wouldn’t dare let me have the luxury of sleep.

It was morning when Ti came back with my clothes and I had not moved a muscle.

It was after dawn broke and we had breakfast of stew and stale bread. I had to watch Ti feed her own father and I was reminded vividly once again of what had been done to him. It was a silent meal as none of us were particularly motivated to talk. It was only at the end did Ti address me when I told her my intentions.

“So that’s it? You’re just going to leave?”

I gave a slow nod to Ti and Shen before I stopped myself, “Yes, I will. I have been…a burden to you two. And my place is no longer here.”

“You can work the forge,” Ti said quickly and her eyes didn’t meet mine as she glanced at her father who simply stared off into space, “Pa can’t work the forge anymore and I need to look after him. Or you can look after Pa and I can work the forge, it doesn’t matter.”

“Ti-”

“Is that it then? You’re just going to run away? After all we did for you?” Ti’s quiet voice rose up with each word that she spoke, “You used our scrip to drink yourself into a stupor week after week, you slept under our roof as you screamed yourself waking up day after day and forcing us to look after you. And you’re just going to run away?”

“Listen to me, please-”

The table between us rattled and shook when Ti shot to her feet and slammed her hands down, “You don’t get off that easy, you bastard! It’s your fault that Pa is like this! It’s your fault that we’re in the shit! You owe us something, Luo!”

I looked up at Ti’s glossy eyes and her trembling lips which had formed into a deep rictus scowl. She was right of course. I did owe them and it was my fault. But I can’t stay here. Not anymore. Something in me had changed irrevocably and my place was no longer here. Even if she never understood and hated me, that was fine by me.

She was right too. I deserved nothing less.

“I will make you whole. Both of you. You have my word,” I said to her and she sneered down at me, “But I can’t stay here anymore. I’m sorry.”

“Fine then,” She spat her trembling words and rubbed at her eyes, “Fine. Run away. It’s all you’re good for anyway.”

“Ti!” Shen shouted suddenly but it didn’t matter. Her stomps echoed out as she left the small dining table and I couldn’t help but flinch when I heard her bedroom door slam shut. It felt like the whole smithy shook.

“I’m sorry, Luo. It’s been hard on her,” There was an undercurrent of accepted grief but I shook my head before I stopped myself once more.

“It has. But she has every right to resent me,” I said to Shen and he shook his head at me. That almost made me smile but then I realised there was no point.

“Before you go, help me up. I’ve got something for you,” The old man’s grumbling voice quivered a bit but I didn’t bring attention to it. I didn’t feel the need to. I got up from my seat and lent my shoulder to the man who suffered the consequences of my action. He pulled himself up and grabbed a gnarled stick leaning up against the wall. Even with that, he still needed something or someone to hang onto for balance and guidance.

Smouldering heat emanated from my heart but I pushed it down. This was not how I should feel, not today of all days.

“My room, if you would.”

“Right. I’m moving off,” I said to Shen as I timed my steps with his. It was more of a leap and a push every time and every thump of his gnarled walking stick was akin to a hammer blow to my temple.

It took us two minutes to walk from the table to his bedroom. It took Ti less than three seconds.

“Put me down on the bed,” Shen told me and I did as I was told. It wasn’t a comfortable bed, more straw and wood than anything else. Seated, Shen waved me off so I took two loud steps back as I watched him take his stick and…started hitting the floorboards with it.

“Hmmm…not there…” He muttered as he reached far and wide until he stopped just before the window. He gave it a few smacks with his stick and nodded with satisfaction.

“Open up the floorboards there, would you kindly? Should just come right off,” He told me and my confusion grew but I did as I was told. I knelt down by the window and where his stick pointed to. I knocked on the wood myself and I was surprised by how hollow it sounded and how it moved under my touch.

I dug my nails in the cracks and lifted it up slowly. The section came away easily and when I saw what was hidden, a lump formed in my throat. I tried to force it down but it was a stubborn thing. Without a word, I reached down into the floorboard and pulled out a familiar, sheathed sword.

I didn’t need to pull it out to check. But force of habit instilled into me for all of my life rose to the surface and I was reflected in the crimson glass blade. I pushed it back into its sheath and turned my head to Shen.

“You still have it? After everything they did to you to find it?” I asked him softly and he nodded, “Why? Why hold on to it? Why not just hand it over?”

“Three reasons mostly; those bastards and whoresons would’ve done what they did to me anyway. Probably with that sword as a sick joke. I know men like them and they’re all the same. Second, the longer I delayed them, the more distance Ti covered while running away. What they did to me, I would take a hundredfold to what they would’ve done to her.”

The leather grip on the sword squealed under the pressure of my grip, “They didn’t-?”

“No. Thank the dragons, no. She was untouched,” Shen told me swiftly and bluntly and a heavy sigh left me. Finally, good news. Even if it was smeared in the muck of this tragedy, it was something at least.

“And the third reason, Shen?”

The old blacksmith took a deep breath and he brought his stick back. His knuckles turned white with his grip and gestured to me. Putting back the floorboard, I wrapped the leather strap around my waist and lent Shen my shoulder once more.

“There’s a place I want us to visit before you leave, Luo. Take me there and I’ll tell you the third reason.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, old man,” I offered to Shen but he shook his head with resoluteness.

“Oh, but I do want to tell you. I just think it’ll be better if we go somewhere else first.”

“And where would that be?”

Shen took a deep breath, “Your home. The sect.”

The old, crippled blacksmith no doubt felt my entire body stiffen and we came to a screeching halt. My heart thumped wildly in my chest and pounded in my ears. I licked my suddenly dry and chapped lips before I stepped forward with Shen in tow.

“Alright.”

Shen didn’t respond and I was thankful for that. I didn’t trust myself to speak at that moment. After all, I haven’t been back home since that fateful night.

There never used to be guards around Bladefall. The village simply never needed them because who would be foolish enough to attack here? Tens, if not hundreds of students of the blade, slept at the village’s very door and that’s not counting the Dragon-Blooded. As it stood, Bladefall was one of the safest villages on the Blessed Isle.

Was, anyway. Now there are guards on every corner. Steely-eyed and armed, they were a constant presence as their armoured boots thudded and stomped on the ground with their patrols.

And there were many of them as well. It didn’t surprise me due to what had happened here but I am surprised it took them this long to get here. None of them were here before I had made the deal so they must’ve come during the days I was gone.

I wonder, is that sack of strange flesh still there? Are the bodies I left behind still rotting? With a clearer mind, I thought back to how I took their lives and I felt nothing. Only a cold satisfaction that didn’t even disturb me. I couldn’t even bring myself to care about the teachings of my home. Who was left to judge me but myself?

The way up to the sect was the same. It wasn’t so much as guarded as it was totally ignored. Shockingly, no one wanted to think of how close an anathema managed to slip into the Blessed Isle, burnt down an entire sect and wreaked havoc with nothing to show for it. No one but I, it seemed.

“Carry me,” Shen asked of me and I admired him. Even crippled and hobbling with every step, even being carried like a babe, he held dignity. He knew he was made lesser but he did not let it consume him. I admired that. But as much as I did, I also hated it because it was wrong. He had been wronged in a way that could never be fixed.

And he didn’t care. He didn’t care that I was the reason why he was like this, he didn’t care that I had abused his goodwill and left him a blind cripple, ruined for the rest of his life. He didn’t care.

I hated that. I truly, vehemently did and I hated myself for hating that for who was I to judge?

When we neared the top, I smelled burning. I felt the sickly green fires lick and nip at my skin once more as they did in my dreams. The beating of my heart thudded in my ears and my mind wandered and strayed. My body moved but it was akin to a puppet on strings; I had no control at this moment.

And yet. And yet. When we reached the top, I saw that the gateway was gone. And then I saw nothing.

The burnt down buildings, the charred bodies. The blackened rubble and the ash-covered ground. It was all gone. All that was left was a few rocks here and there and a flat piece of land.

All of it was gone.

“Mhm,” Shen hummed, “Considering you’ve come to a stop, I guess we’re here now. Suppose you want some answers. Set me down, will you?”

I swallowed thickly and placed Shen down on the nearest rock, “There we go. It is a shame, you know. I always enjoyed the view from up here.”

I didn’t respond and instead, I cast my gaze out and indeed, it was still a beautiful view still.

The rolling hills of emerald grass seemed to stretch out for eternity, the verdant forest brimming with life and vegetation. The sun shone down still with its golden rays as it rested high on the cerulean sky of a mild afternoon. It bathed everything in its warm light without regard or contempt, doling out comfort without prejudice in its magnanimity. And for some reason, for the life of me, that made me happy.

It was like what happened here was simply gone. Washed away and the slate wiped clean.

It was unfair. I hated it. I hated it so much that I wanted to break something with my bare hands. Is that the secret to life? Tragedies happen and the world just keeps moving on? Is that all there is to it?

“Oh,” I spoke aloud as I noticed something I didn’t before, “We have walls now.”

“Mhm, that we do,” Shen said with a low hum as I took in the wooden walls that had been built around the village, “We can’t rely on the sect for protection anymore and the bandits had people scared after what they did to me. Guards help but walls are a tried and true method otherwise we wouldn’t keep building them.”

“Where did the guards come from anyway?” I asked Shen as I looked at the place I once called home.

“New family moving in and taking over. Patrician or some such, I didn’t take much notice,” Shen shrugged and I waited for the familiar heat of my rage to well up within me. And when it didn’t, I didn’t bother questioning why. I couldn’t find it in me to care anymore.

“Why are we here, Shen?” I asked the old blacksmith and his shoulders heaved with an invisible weight.

“That sword. It was my father’s.”

With those words, my thoughts came to a dead and icy still. Whatever I was feeling dropped into my stomach and I found my gaze fixated on the blacksmith who turned his head upwards to the sky.

“My home, where I was born, is far in the Southern Threshold. I was born to a clan of bandits. We called ourselves something else but the truth was that we put travellers to the sword for food and profit. My father led them and one day, he came across that blade. Took a fancy to it and kept it.”

“But so did my uncle. They never got along but this was the final push,” Shen carried on without a care, “My father got gutted by his own sword. I was exiled, my mother and sister sold into slavery and I never saw them again. Shockingly, I wanted to get even about the whole thing.”

“I’m,” I swallowed to dry my parched throat, “I’m sorry, Shen. I never knew.”

“Of course you didn’t. Neither does Ti and I would like to keep it that way. Now let an old soul finish his story,” My mouth snapped closed as Shen took in a sharp breath and exhaled softly.

“I became a mercenary. I was good with a blade so why not? Years passed and the blood I spilt could fill lakes upon lakes. I became head of my own company and the first thing I did was wage war upon my uncle.”

“I gutted him with that sword,” Shen nodded his head at the blade in my grip, “Just like he did to my father. And then it was done. I had everything I wanted. Revenge, riches, respect and skill. I could just leave behind everything and live my life how I wanted.”

“So what went wrong?” I asked him softly and Shen’s chuckle was a dry thing indeed.

“Nothing went wrong. I met Ti’s mother and fell for her. Hard. For the first time, I wondered how many loved ones I killed. How many fathers and mothers, how many brothers and sisters did I cut down because I was paid to? Because I wanted revenge and I saw no other way to get it? How many lives did I trample on to get what I want? The difference, I realised, was that I held the sword. They didn’t and they suffered for it.”

“I always hated what your mother taught you,” He said quickly and with certainty before I could interrupt him, “It was such yeddim shit to act like the sword is some noble tool of enlightenment. Martial arts, especially those in the realm of above mortals like me, are beyond my knowledge. But the sword is a tool for killing and killing alone. The only good that comes from it is the fact that some things and people need killing. Dragons know I’ve met more than enough of the latter in my time.”

“That’s not what she meant. She always said that it’s a poor swordsman who sees only a tool for killing. A true swordsman sees the blade and extols it beyond its petty purpose,” I spoke by instinct but even I had to admit that my words were hollowed out of fervour and belief.

Shen shook his head, “You’ve been fed poison, Luo. And one day, you’ll expel it. But that is not today. Do you remember what Ti told you? That I planned to get rid of that sword?”

I blinked slowly at what he said before it suddenly came back to me, “Yes, I do. But wait, if that was the case-?”

“I wanted to get rid of it because I was scared,” Shen said suddenly and bluntly, “That sword was responsible for the death of my father. My uncle. Everything I did linked back to it in some way. I don’t know why I kept it. Nostalgia, I guess? A reminder? In the end, I was horrified that this sword would be, in some way, the death of me. And it nearly was.”

“Nearly. But you’re still alive. That has to count for something,” I spoke softly to Shen who let out a cold snort.

“Would you really call this living?” Shen waved his nub at me like a baby stretching its limbs for the first time, saying, “I didn’t get any sleep last night. I haven’t ever since this happened to me. I can barely eat and drink without Ti helping me. By the time she gets to her food, it’s already cold. I will not tell you how I use the chamberpot but it is not easy or dignified. My eyes, they…”

Here, Shen’s voice wavered and drifted off. The sword in my grip, which I once admired and respected, grew almost too heavy for me to handle. Its grip felt wrong in my hand, the leather chafing against my palm and rubbing it raw. It was as if hooked thorns suddenly grew out and stabbed into my hand.

“I can’t live like this, Luo. I can’t live like a parasite off my daughter. I want you-”

“Don’t!” My temper flared for a brief instant and fire flooded my body, “Don’t you finish that sentence. Don’t you even dare think about it!”

“Ti can’t support the both of us. Not like this. I will not be a burden on my daughter who has to watch me waste away day by day,” Shen’s voice wavering voice became like steel with each passing second, “I know it’s cruel of me to ask this of you, Luo. But I know you’ll make it quick.”

“Cruel? Cruel doesn’t even begin to describe it!” My whole body was hot and flushed as I stepped to and fro with enough force to carve out the stone beneath my sandals.

“Ti already hates me and with good reason! It’s my fault that you’re like this! When everything came crashing down around me, when I was left alone amongst the ashes of the dead and my home, you two were there for me and I took you both for granted. And now, when I’ve finally put down the drink and made my decision, you want me to leave with your blood fresh on my sword!? You want Ti to go through the same thing I did?!”

So blinded by outrage, so furious was I by what I was being asked for, my vision turned a hazy red. How dare he. How dare he ask this of me. How dare he ask that I hurt Ti, my friend, even more. That I leave her an orphan.

How dare he.

“Luo-”

“SHUT UP!”

My fist lashed out without thought behind it. Moved entirely by bubbling anger and hot, blinding rage, it wasn’t me that was moving. Instead, something came within and for a brief terrible moment, I was adrift upon the scorching currents of the red haze.

Splinters and shards of coloured stone flew and scattered across the floor in a hundred pieces. A dusty grey cloud erupted from where I struck.

My rapid breaths scorched my lips as my chest expanded and decompressed. After a few moments of silence, I looked at what I had struck in my rage.

A piece of rubble that was once part of the roof of our pagoda. Horse-sized, it was shattered into two uneven halves with a web of cracks stretching out into gnarled and curved patterns. As if feeling some sort of pressure from my wide-eyed gaze, the two halves crumbled upon themselves and the teeth-scratching sound of ceramic breaking echoed out in a cacophonic rumble.

Seconds stretched into minutes before Shen spoke again, “Luo. How big was the thing you just broke?”

“Uh,” I cringed at how dumb and dry I sounded before I cleared my throat, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Luo. Have you been graced?” Shen asked me quietly and with unearned awe, “Is that why you left for five days?”

“It doesn’t matter, Shen. I’m not going to do what you’re asking. I refuse.”

“Then I’ll do it myself,” He declared with the solemnity of a dead man and my blood froze in my veins, “I will not be a drain on my daughter, Luo. I will not have her be reminded of what happened to me every single day for as long as I live. What happens when smithing doesn’t cut it anymore? She’s still raw in her skill and I can’t teach her any longer. What will she turn to? The job every woman can take? Standing beneath the blue veils of a bordello?”

Every word Shen spoke dredged up a flickering ember in my heart. The hypocrisy of it all was dry tinder upon the fires I felt and threatened to erupt once more into a conflagration, “I would never let that happen. Never.”

“So you’ll stay then? Support the both of us?” Shen asked with crystal clear disapproval in his voice, “Because you have your own life to live, Luo. You can’t spend the rest of it here.”

“Don’t tell me what I can’t do, old man,” I snapped out bitterly, “If I have to, I will. I’m not-”

“My Prince.”

My words stopped cold but my body lurched like a hunting tiger. Without thought and emotion, the blade was freed and its sharp crimson edge gleamed in the sunlight. I snapped my gaze around but I found no one around me.

“Luo? Is something wrong?” Shen’s voice was a distant whisper in the back of my mind at the moment.

“My Prince, forgive me for intruding on your very personal conversation but I believe I have the solution to this. But I ask that you trust me.”

It was a soft, womanly voice that spoke to me from nowhere. It was soothingly silky and tickled against the inner workings of my ear which sent shivers up my spine in an electric tingle. And it was also the last voice I heard before my death.

“...Lady Whisper?” I mumbled under my breath and a sultry laugh echoed out around me as if it was a velvet shawl.

“Lady? Please, my Prince. Just Whisper will do. But introductions and explanations can wait. You want to save this feeble mortal, correct?”

“Luo, answer me dammit. What the hell is going on?” Shen’s strained words drew my attention and I saw him trying to sit up but he couldn’t manage it before sitting back down with a huff. A pang came from my heart and I heard a sigh in the back of my mind.

“What am I saying, of course you do. My Prince, let me be blunt. There is a Charm that is available to you that can heal this mortal totally. I do not mean to get rid of his scars but to regrow his limbs and eyes. It will take time, time this cripple might not have but it is possible. But you will need to let me guide you. Training your Charms is a delicate process, especially for one as young as you.”

As soon as I heard ‘heal’ I didn’t care anymore. Everything else became defunct to me at that moment and I turned to Shen with my back ramrod straight. For some reason, whatever I did, caused Shen’s mouth to snap shut.

“Shen, listen to me. What would you say to me if I said I could heal you? If I could get your limbs back?”

“W-What? What the hell are spewing at me, boy?” Shen’s calm voice quivered and quaked with blustering shock, “Ain’t nothing can give me back what I lost, don’t you see that? What, you just have a few spare metal magic eyes, arm and leg laying about?”

“I’m not talking about replacements, Shen. I’m talking about regrowing them,” The very words sounded insane coming out of my mouth but there was a rush inside me now, a certainty I have never felt before. It wasn’t the words or the whispers fed to me by this ghost inside of my head but something in my very core that told me; Yes. This is doable.

“Luo…have you grown mad? Are you just grasping at straws now?” Shen’s concern was almost comical in how genuine it was but the time for humour had long passed me by this moment.

“Boy, listen to-”

I stepped up to Shen and he stopped talking. It’s not that my footsteps announced my arrival, I took the effort to make myself silent as I approached. But as I stood over him, he went silent and the tension between us went taut.

“I have listened. I have listened, Shen. And I have thought about what you’ve told me. About how stuff just happens and you have to accept it and move on. That the sun rises and falls all the same regardless of what happens to us. That the people we care about die and there’s nothing we can do about it. And there is truth to that, I can not deny that. I can not. People are born. They live. And then they die and Creation keeps on going without a care. That’s what you’re hoping for Ti, isn’t it? That she grieves and just moves on?”

I watched as Shen’s throat bobbed up and down as he dryly swallowed, “She’s a woman now. She’ll understand. It’s just how the world works.”

“Then the world is WRONG!”

My voice erupted around me and Shen fell over in a strangled scream. Heat flushed my entire body in a vicious wave of unending fire and my vision was little else but a hazy red. I heard something snap and cracked but compared to the drumming of my heart, it was a tiny drop in a tsunami of blood.

“Is that how you want to live?! To just shrug your shoulders at every injustice and act like there’s nothing you can do? To grieve without doing anything about it?! The only people I have left are you and Ti and you brought me here to kill you like a sick dog because you don’t want to be a burden on someone that loves you?! How selfish can you be, you bastard?!”

Shen mumbled and scrambled on the floor as I stood over him like a lost child but I was having none of it. My hand was a blur as I lurched him close to my face and my scalding breath washed over him, my grip trembling with barely restrained fury. My fingers tore holes in the stitched shirt as easily as wet parchment.

“If this is the world where I have to kill a person I love to save another, then the world is wrong, Shen. I will not stand for it. I will not stand for it. You’re going to get your limbs back. You’re going to get your eyes back. You and Ti will live your lives without me blackening them anymore and that will be that. I will not stand for anything else.”

I don’t think I will ever forget Shen’s face at that moment. His frayed bloodied bandages seemed to wilt under my glare and his one hand feebly grasped at my wrist. His mouth hung loosely open in quiet fear and only mumbled half-words escaped from him. His skin felt clammy and sweaty and he shook. He shook terribly.

Dragons. What has happened to me?

“I’m going to take you home. You’re going to wait for me. Tell Ti or don’t, it is not up to me. If you try to convince me not to, I’m going to lose my temper.”

Shen didn’t say anything. I lifted him up and I made my way back to his home. He didn’t say anything at all to me.

As much as it hurt me, as much as it made my heart ache, I knew that it was over. The last words I ever said to the father of my best friend was a threat.

How could I justify anything after that?

I walked down slowly in total darkness as my only companion. One could almost feel the moistness in the air as it clung to their skin and clothes. It wasn’t unpleasant but refreshing. I reached out to the wall and slick, wet rock. The only sound accompanying me as I delved deeper and deeper into this cavernous tunnel are the droplets of glittering, blue water droplets from the stalagmites above.

I stepped down this cavernous depth that ran under my home for about five minutes or so. It wormed its way into the earth and it was a safe haven. Only two people…well, one now, knew of it and that was me.

If I wanted privacy, I couldn’t think of a better place.

Eventually, I came to a stop and a faint cerulean glow entered my vision. It bathed the walls with its constant, rippling presence and only a faint plip plop could be heard now. The space was oval in shape and in the centre was a pool of shimmering, sapphire water. It wasn’t overly massive but it was in a deep, perfectly smooth basin. Its surface constantly rippled in a pattern as a single droplet dripped into it.

It was…peaceful here. There was a calm here that I never felt before as if it was cut off from everything else. I wondered

I sat down with my legs crossed and placed the sheathed blade in front of me. I pulled out the blade and the soft glow of the Essence-rich pool revealed the hairline fractures that permeated the once spotless blade.

“What a curious place,” Whisper’s soft voice echoed out in my ears but not the cave, “I wasn’t expecting a water demesne here of all places.”

“It used to be where my sifu came to meditate and get away from it all. We’re underneath…well, it doesn’t matter now,” I spoke aloud to the voice in my mind, “I’m the only one that knows of this place so we can practise here in peace. How do we begin?”

“We begin with what you know, my Prince. What are Charms to you?”

My brow furrowed and so did my reflection in the gently rippling pool, “Charms are miracles fueled by Essence and guided with skill. Charms are the domain of the Dragon-Blooded and Gods, the former using the Essence of the Elemental Dragons and the latter using their own divinely appointed Essence for their domains.”

“In, and excuse me for this my Prince, essence, you are correct. Now, the Charms you will be learning are those of the Yozi.”

“The what?”

“I will explain all soon, my Prince but this is more important to you. Just as the Dragon-Blooded draw upon the Essence of the Dragons, so do you call upon the Essence of the Yozi that now flows through you. Beings far vaster and infinitely more potent than the Elemental Dragons could ever hope to be.”

“I suppose I have to point out the obvious; Charms are the right of the Dragon-Blooded, gods and anathema. I’m no god and I certainly don’t feel like a newly turned snake. So what am I?”

“All in due time, my Prince. But don’t try to act coy with me, my Prince. You couldn’t care less,” Whisper’s ethereal voice wrapped around me as if it was a silken vice.

I snorted, “No. No, I do not. So how do we start?”

“It is a shame we must do away with the gravitas and pomp of delving into the mysteries of your Charms, my Prince. I can already feel your excitement, trepidation and unease swirling into each other.”

That caused me to freeze and Whisper’s slow laugh at my shock needled in my brain. Though it was said rather bluntly, the fact of the matter is that Charms are the prerogative of certain beings. Just because I could use Essence doesn’t automatically make it so I can use Charms. It requires something else.

Supernatural martial arts abided by different rules which allowed a bit of leeway but Charms were rigid and unbending. The fact that I could use Charms, according to the quite literal demonic seductress in my head, means I have ascended beyond being a mere mortal.

But I didn’t care about that. Not anymore.

“Then let us begin, my Prince. We will start with this: I will repeat a series of sentences peppered with truths and lies. It is up to you to discern which is which.”

“Excuse me? What the hell does that have to do with anything?”

“Charms do not exist in a vacuum, my Prince. They are built upon, besides and of each other. This Charm will lead you where you wish to go, you have my word.”

“A word of a demon,” A slow breath left my lungs and rich, moist air entered them in return, “What has my life come to?”

“The word of the demon that saved your life, might I add,” Whisper’s genuine offence was given away by the faint trickle of amusement felt from her. Perhaps the bond between us, whatever infernal thing it was, was not so one way as I thought.

“Before we begin, I want to know. Why are you doing this? Why are you helping me? Call me cynical but I doubt you care about Shen,” I asked aloud to empty air and I kept my gaze on the rippling pool of water in front of me. It was mesmerising in a way I couldn’t describe as its waves went up and down and up and down.

“I do not, my Prince. But my responsibility is your well-being and killing someone you care about is a bit counterproductive to that. And I was going to reveal myself at some point and how do I explain to you that I held the knowledge to potentially save him but I withheld it? No, I decided it would serve us both better if I spoke up now.”

“So you were aware then? Since I came out of that…thing. That sac of flesh.”

“Your Chrysalis Grotesque, yes. My Prince, you have to understand that as disoriented as you were at that moment, it could not be compared to my own confusion. I was not sure if I would even survive the process.”

“What?” The single word was spoken quietly and it echoed across the entire cave with hollow horror, “What do you mean you weren’t sure if you would survive? Were you going to sacrifice yourself for a drunken failure?”

“It was the will of the Yozi that I do so and their will is reality made,” The explanation was so void of emotion and so factual that it scared me. How did someone, even an inhuman being, accept something like their death so calmly?

“But enough of this. Time is short and we can talk about this later. Are you ready, my Prince?”

With forceful but slow breaths, I nodded to nothing. She was right, of course. Any explanation of anything could wait. This could not.

“Now, concentrate. It doesn’t matter where, it doesn’t matter how, just focus inwardly. Let the infernal Essence that thrums in your soul and flows through your meridians respond to your command.”

“A small problem. I was born with broken meridians and shattered chakras. Unless those have been fixed, we’re out of luck,” I couldn’t help myself, even if I spoke calmly. If the demon felt my fear and hope, it didn’t deign to bring it up when it spoke.

“That doesn’t matter, my Prince. The Chrysalis Grotesque serves more purposes than you could possibly know. Did you not notice how your scars no longer mar your body? How your stomach is unblemished despite being impaled on a sword? Physically, you have been brought to the apex of humanity. Spiritually, any and all defects you might have had have been wiped away. If your meridians were broken, somehow, then the infernal power of your Exaltation has mended them. If your chakras have been shattered, then they are remade wholesale; Hell will not have its champions be crippled from their tenure as mortals.”

“Have no fear, my Prince. Though Heaven has spurned your efforts, Hell has recognized them. Essence is yours to command, now and forever.”

I hated how my breath shuddered. I hated how my heart quickened as if I was an excited child. I hated how, for a brief moment, I forgot why I was here and what I was doing. All that mattered was the very simple fact that I might be able to use Essence.

So I closed my eyes and looked inward with a childish eagerness and soaring hope.

And then my entire body felt like it was on fire.

In the darkness, all the way from the tips of my fingers to the top of my scalp, I was awash in a constant searing heat. My breath rattled as my lungs were squeezed by a burning claw. My forehead suddenly became sticky and wet with beads of sweat. My lips became dry and cracked as if desert winds had been blown upon me. I dared not even give thought to licking them wet as I concentrated on the raging inferno that sought to consume me with my own power.

I compared it to heat but it was so much more than that. It was more akin to a force. A pressure that built upon itself in a perpetual motion of infinitude. I wondered if this is what the Dragon-Blooded contended with when the dragon’s grace fell upon them. To feel the totality of the Elemental Dragons fall upon you was something I never gave any thought to.

But that didn’t matter. None of it really did. As my eyes itched terribly and burned with burgeoning tears, as my finger bones creaked with strain and my teeth gnashed against each other, I found a different sort of heat fill me. An all too familiar red haze fell upon me and I waged war upon myself.

Roaring heat battled a searing screaming sun. Red fire sought to consume a blinding colourless flame. I was stuck between the two as the sole factor of balance. The all-consuming fires of both dried my throat as if it was mere tinder to the battle that waged inside of me.

“My Prince,” The demon’s voice warbled as she spoke through an ocean of fire, “Why are you fighting against yourself?”

And those words stopped me cold. I took a deep lungful of wet, moist air and breathed out a dry scorching sigh. I repeated until my heart calmed, however slight, and I imagined something to restrain this potent energy. To calm it down, to put it under my command and my command alone.

Command. Command. That was it! How could I be so blind?

Cease.

And so it did. Slowly, it did. The fires died down. The heat cooled. The embers still burned and nothing could put them out. But embers I could deal with. When I opened my eyes with the gravitas of opening a grand vault, a different light greeted me. It was not the gentle blue glow of the pool but a harsh, unearthly green. The same aura that surrounded me when I was reborn. With a clearer head, I saw that it lashed out almost. It whipped and cracked against the air as if restrained. A faint outline of tarnished silver weaved around its edges and outlined my anima.

“Very good, my Prince. You have grasped the reins of your Essence. Though I must admit, I was worried for you. Going from being unable to even feel Essence to bathing in your own power could’ve been too much for you.”

“Was,” My words clawed themselves from a croaky dried through and I licked my salty lips to wet them, “Was I in danger then?”

“As in from injury or pain? No, not at all. But your mind could’ve been overwhelmed by this new sensation and that was my fear. But it is good to see my fears unfounded, my Prince. Shall we begin?”

I looked down at the rippling pool and no longer was it strangely tranquil. No longer was the only source of disturbance the singular droplet. But near me, the water became restless as it churned upon itself.

I reached down with a cupped hand and drank the sweetest liquid that has ever touched my lips and so I drank twice more before I was satisfied.

“Go.”

“My name is Last Whisper. I am an erymanthoi descended from Lady Sondok, She-Who-Stands-Doorways. I have laid with men, women, children and beasts. From their flesh and seed, I have shaped towers in the wombs of gods and devils. With my voice, I crack stone and sunder flesh. With my love, I defile.”

And so it was that I had to separate truth and lies from this bizarre string of words from the demon that saved my life and speaks from within my mind.

And so it was that I, like a newborn babe only discovering his hands for the first time, I drew upon Essence to weave my first Charm.

And so it was that I sat there, alone. And so it will be until I leave with what I need. Nothing else would suffice.

It wasn’t much. It won’t fix or bring me back what I lost. But it was the least I could do to those still alive. The least and last thing I could do for them.

“Pa, come on. You need to drink,” She haggardly said and her efforts of keeping her voice steady was a failure. Knelt down besides her ailing father, Ti guided the bowl of water to his dry lips. His mouth parted slowly and he drank with great reluctance. But still, he drank and she was glad for it.

“Ti,” Her father croaked out weakly as she tried not to stare at his uncovered, weeping eye sockets, “Save some for yourself. You-”

“I’m fine, Pa,” She spoke quickly and cuttingly. She reached down to the basin beside her where his bloodied bandages soaked and stained the water. She grimaced at the sight but this was for the best, she told herself. Food and water was more important than clean bandages.

“When was the last time you ate?” He asked her weakly and she didn’t answer. She reached down with her bare hands and once again laid them out to dry. She learned her lesson from the last time she tried to wrap them around while they were still wet. As she did so, she remembered how they came to this state and her hands shook terribly with rage.

“You can’t hate him forever, Ti,” Her father said as if he could read her even without his eyes. She gave up long ago trying to deny anything from him.

“And why the hell not?” She snapped out, “He left us. We gave him everything and he took it and fucked off. If it wasn’t for him, you wouldn’t be like this.”

“You don’t think he knows that? You think you can hate him more than he hates himself?” Her father asked her and her throat tightened at the words. She wouldn’t, or couldn’t rather, say anything and stood up to leave.

“It’s good that he chose to leave, Ti,” Her father spoke to her back as she opened the door, “Would you really torture him like that?”

“Like you were?” She spat back and her father didn’t respond. A dark well of guilt opened up in her stomach but she forced it down as she opened the door.

“I’ll be back in a bit. I have orders to complete.”

“Ti-”

She shut the door and went to work. Work was good for her, she told herself. It took her mind off of everything happening. It took her mind off of her friend and how deeply his betrayal cut.

“My name is Last Whisper.” Truth.

“I am an erymanthoi descended from Lady Sondok, She-Who-Stands-Doorways.” Lie.

“I have laid with men, women, children and beasts.” Truth.

“From their flesh and seed, I have shaped towers in the wombs of gods and devils.” Lie.

“With my voice, I crack stone and sunder flesh. With my love, I defile.” Truth.

“My name is-”

“Stop. Stop,” I repeated myself for emphasis and my voice croaked and cracked from the lack of use. I reached down to drink once more, roughly shoving dry rabbit bones away from me as I did so. The sweet water went down easily and a long sigh escaped my lips.

“I think I did it this time,” I said aloud to nothing and I was rewarded with a slight hum. I tried not to think about how the statement of laying with children and beasts came back true. It was a cold reminder of how inhuman this being truly was. Even if she did save my life.

“Then I will test you again, my Prince,” She spoke again and once more, almost by instinct this time, I weaved my Essence into a cold and hard-edged pattern. That was the trick of it I learned; to turn something hot and wild into its opposite.

“Lie,” I said without warning and a sultry chuckle resounded out in my ears, “Tell me something else.”

“Then let me say, I am impressed, my Prince. I thought it would take far longer for you to form your first Charm.”

I couldn’t help it. A wave of satisfaction flushed through me as the words rang back true to me and the corners of my lips lifted up in a grateful smile. Despite the fact that the one praising me was a demon inside my mind, it simply felt nice.

“Repeating the same thing over and over in my head until I got it right was not exactly what I would call interesting tutorship but it was certainly effective,” I spoke to the demon aloud and closed my eyes. Blissful silence surrounded me and I basked in it for a short while before my eyes opened once more.

“Do you wish to know how long we’ve trained for, my Prince?”

I bit my lip hard and shook my head, “No. Before we start on the next Charm, I wanted to ask you. Do you know if the one I learned has a name?”

“As your Unwoven Coadjutor, I am bestowed upon such knowledge to help facilitate your growing pains as one of Hell’s champions and knowing the names of your Charms is one of them. The one you have learned is called Factual Determination Analysis.”

“What an awfully apt and dry name,” My eyes rolled at the crippling lack of creativity, “So what is next? And how many do I have to learn until I get what I want?”

“With Factual Determination Analysis, you recognize the binary nature of truth and lies. Next, you must see all that matters in the form of Essence-Dissecting Stare. In total, my Prince, you must learn five Charms. Each one expanding upon the other and growing more and more complex,” Whisper’s voice remained the same soft tone that was natural to her but I felt something beneath her words that warbled and waved. I took notice but decided it was not worth bringing up right now.

I looked down in front of me at the chipped and fractured blade. My hand glided down the cracks gently and its cold touch filled me with an iron will.

“Right. Let’s start.”

“Of course, my Prince,” Whisper spoke in my ear and I felt her wide smile behind her words.

“One…two…three…four…” The young woman mumbled to herself as she separated the siu and the yen coins laid before her with a single koku strip. After everything was done, she looked at what was the totality of her livelihood. It was enough to sustain her for the months to come and perhaps even see through the end of the year if she was frugal with it.

But she couldn’t afford to be. She had already spoken to the thaumaturge for more potions for her father and the price was steep enough.

She looked towards where her father finally slept with the aid of such draughts. It was nice not to hear him screaming or whimpering in the night for once. And so she went back to counting and then back to work.

At least the guards paid well for her blades.

I had always equated learning about Charms to learning new techniques. It made sense, right? While others made their own often enough, there were some so famous and so useful that I’d be hard-pressed to find a snake that didn’t know Charms such as Wind-Carried Words Technique.

But I now knew that the word ‘technique’ wasn’t quite the right way to describe it. A technique is something you learn. A technique is something you are taught.

Charms, I realised, didn’t need to be taught. My will alone guided my Essence along the paths I wanted it to and Whisper only told me the bare basics of the Charm itself. What it is supposed to do and its name but not how to shape my Essence into the right patterns nor how to channel it.

That was left up to me. When I wanted to achieve something in a certain way, my Essence responded and weaved and shaped itself. But it wasn’t perfect nor was it alive. It responded to my will and my need, so I had to correctly forge it into what I want it to be.

And when it was done, when the Essence was forged into the correct shape and I had what I wanted, the Essence-pattern needed to be fueled. And that was it. That was the secret of Charms.

Patterns of Essence forged by the will of those who could command it. And none of this became more obvious when I learned the Charm known as Essence-Dissecting Stare.

When I finally opened my eyes after what felt like days, my breath was stolen from me by what I saw. The soft, blue lines that flowed together in an artistic and primal pattern seared themselves into my brain. They were spiritual rivers flowing with the lifeblood of the world itself and they were clearer than the purest sapphires. Streams of deep, blue Essence curled above me as if it was painted and sculpted by hand as they converged on one, single spot.

Each droplet was a tiny tear of the world. A sapphire filled with life, energy and movement. A swirling whirlpool that made itself more.

It was…a powerful moment. Shen’s words echoed in my mind and they were reinforced by what I saw.

But I couldn’t tarry long. Creation will last forever. Shen will not.

The hammer rose and the hammer fell. The bar of steel was wrought into shape and angry red sparks spat out in protest of the heavy blows. They stung her when they leapt to her skin and marked her with seething heat as if seeking recompense for their torture.

She didn’t care. She beat her hammer relentlessly against the newborn blade as she forced it into shape and being. The melodious yet grating clanging of her hammer was a dull, echoing thud in her ears.

It rose and fell. It rose and fell. It rose and fell. It rose and fell.

Each time it fell, a painful shudder shot up her arm. Each time it rose, her bruised knuckles and calloused hands cried out in protest as her fingers curled around the wooden, sweat-slicked handle.

It rose and fell. It rose and fell. And then she was done.

She faintly felt the steam as the water bucket beside her bubbled and gurgled with the raw blade and when it was done, she threw it into the knee high-pile just a stone throw’s away from her.

She stopped for a moment and she heard the faint, pained groans of her beloved father.

It rose and fell. It rose and fell. It rose and fell. In the dark of Bladefall, the night was broken by the light of a faint, dying forge and the clang of a hammer.

“My Prince, calm yourself. Worrying will not bring you any closer to your goal.”

“But I’m so close now!” My shout reverberated around me as my feet brushed away old hare bones. The sheathed sword in my iron grip was kept at my side as it had been ever since I came here.

I had done everything I needed. All of the Charms learned in a mad flurry led up to this moment. Done with a rabid quickness and need, I had shaped my Essence as I needed to.

And yet. And yet, at the very end, I found myself stalled. I found myself stumbling.

“Why?” My hoarse voice croaked out and it ached with the word, “Why now? What am I doing wrong?”

“Do not despair, my Prince,” Whisper’s soothing words were a balm upon my ears, “Learning Charms, even simple ones, is no paltry feat. Many would be impressed with your growth already.”

“To hell with that!” I snapped at the empty air, “None of that matters now. None of it. I need to learn Wholeness Rightly Assumed or otherwise, what was the entire point?!”

“Calm yourself, Luo. Deep breaths and calm yourself. Worrying and panicking will not do anything nor will your frustration do anything but cloud your mind,” I found myself stalling as Whisper said my name and the sterness in her words.

I did as she advised and the rhythm of my breathing did nothing to diminish the heat of my anger. But it steadied it and I slinked down to a meditative sitting pose with my sheathed blade on my lap. The weight of it reminded me of why I was doing this and how little time I had.

“My Prince, you’ve already made remarkable progress. Take pride in that. But perhaps its time to give up. The mortal…how do you know he’s even still alive?”

“...Shen has his daughter. He won’t die in front of her. He’s too afraid.”

“You hold great faith in an ageing mortal.”

Hot air blew through my nose as I snorted at her words. The same thing could be said about me but I didn’t answer back. Shen was my family and I knew him. He would hold on until the bitter end. With those thoughts, I took another deep breath as my hands wandered on my blade.

I worked best when I studied. When I saw something or had some sort of tool. This demesne, not only isolated and private but also gave me something to grind myself against. It allowed me to see the Essence that pooled around it, it allowed me to mutate myself with its Essence and I cured myself with my own Essence.

That was every Charm leading up to this point. To see the difference between truth and lies. To see the Essence made manifest with my own eyes. To immunise myself against it and keep my form as I wanted it to be. Now it was time to heal with Essence. To make right what was once wrong.

And I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t get it into my head how it was supposed to go. The will and want was there, the Essence was there and it had shaped itself but I couldn’t channel it. I had nothing to channel it to.

I was stuck. Terribly so. I closed my eyes and I saw Shen; crippled and lame. My heart leapt into my throat and my hands itched and burned with raw energy. I gripped my sword-

Wait. My sword. My sword.

“My Prince?” Whisper spoke to me as I unsheathed the crimson glass blade. I gazed upon it and a chill went down my spine as I saw a sapphire glint on its edge turned ruby-red. The light of the water demesne soaked into the blade as if trying to change its colour but it remained as it was.

“I have an idea,” I spoke aloud and Whisper’s urgency and shock rocked through my soul. I stood up and placed my arm against a protruding rock to steady it. Just as she was connected to me, so was I connected to her. As surely as she could feel my determination, I could feel her twisting and churning.

“My Prince, if you do this, there is a chance you will die. You escaped death once by the grace of the Yozi and with that, a chance to make things right. You would, in a fit of madness, throw all of that away for a mortal in his twilight years?”

“Whisper,” I spoke slowly and my iron grip tightened around the handle of my blade, “If we’re going to be together like this, know this.”

The blade of red glass rose and Whisper’s silent terror gnawed at my mind.

“I would throw away everything.”

The blade fell. And it rose. And it fell. And it rose. And it fell and rose no more.

Everything was painful. Everything was agony. Even in this state, he felt his fingers and toes curl. Even in this state, he felt the pain of his missing limbs. Every breath wracked his lungs with arcs of electric agony and every blink was accompanied by sharp needles plunging deep into his skull. But the pain was not the worst of it. Pain was an old friend to this man and he greeted it.

The smell was the worst. The stench of shame that was the dried piss and caked shit down his inner thighs. The stink of weakness that was the blood and puss of his infected wounds gnawing him down to the very soul.

And yet, he endured. He listened to the rhythmic clang of his daughter’s forging and it was the only balm afforded to him now. The thaumaturge’s potions had already worn off by now and it will be some time before his daughter could buy some more.

Perhaps, if he was lucky enough, he would die tonight. Perhaps the burden he placed on his daughter, the only thing he could proudly call the greatest thing he brought into Creation, would be lifted.

The hammer stopped. Doors opened and creaked and he heard her heavy and dragging footsteps. They stopped as something heavy smacked into the wall and slid down to the floor. Shen heard his daughter snoring just outside his door and his hands, both phantom and real, squeezed into fists.

Before anything else could be done, he heard the door slowly click and a second pair of feet. His heart thundered in his chest and he went to shout out something but all that came was a pathetic, simpering whimper.

“Oh, Ti…” A voice Shen knew well spoke out and his fear subsidised. The door to his room opened and he felt a whoosh of mild, fresh air. Minutes passed as the guest grunted with effort and Shen heard Ti’s bedroom door open and close. The footsteps came closer and he felt the presence of Luo Silk-Touch over him.

Despite everything, a flicker of dark fear appeared in Shen’s heart. He still remembered the feeling of Luo’s breath on him as he gripped his shirt. He still remembered the rawness of Luo’s anger washing over him in palpating waves.

It reminded Shen of Luo’s teacher. The woman who adopted him; Tura. But Tura’s presence was a comforting one. She had a steady and calm aura that put one at ease.

Luo was not like that. He might have buried it after many years but at the core of this young man, a son in all but blood, was fire and earth. A molten heart that warmed and burned frightfully like the sun itself.

“Old man,” Luo spoke warmly but there was a tinge of trepidation in it, “Are you awake?”

He was but Shen forced himself to remain still. Perhaps it was fear, perhaps it was simple exhaustion. He didn’t know. A fingertip was gently placed on his neck and Shen heard Luo’s breath go still. It lasted until his heart beat once and Shen heard a shaky breath released.

“Thank the heavens-” Luo spoke but he strangely cut himself off, “Oh, it was just a figure of speech. Thank hell doesn’t have the same ring to it.”

Shen’s confusion almost gave him away but then he felt Luo’s hand upon his chest. And then, he felt his arm. The arm that he lost to brigands. He felt it. His heart thundered in his chest and only dread and fear kept him in place. It was as if smooth granite had encased his missing limb; strangely numb and yet crystal clear. He felt every twitch, every movement of what felt like strange nubby ends to his fingers but not a single time was it painful.

Shen counted the seconds as he laid there. When it was over, the air brushed over his arm as if to caress a job well done. Had he the will or the energy, he would’ve started to move and question but it was too late. All he could do was simply lay there and wait.

“Okay,” Luo breathed out slowly, “Now for the leg.”

And so it happened again. That strange, numb feeling of his leg coming back. And on the second time around, that’s what it truly felt like. His limbs were not growing. They were simply coming back. What the process looked like, Shen could not begin to fathom. In the same amount of time, his leg was back and his toes curled reflexively.

“And now,” Luo’s breath was haggard and slow, “The eyes.”

Shen expected this one to hurt. And yet, they didn’t. The subtle coldness that wreathed inside his skull was the same indifference that gave him his leg and arm back. To feel his eyeballs slowly grow back in their skull made his skin crawl with unease but he kept still.

When it was done, he knew he could see. He saw the dried blood on his bandages. The yellowed puss and clear, sticky fluid. But more than that, he saw Luo if only faintly. He could not make out anything except for the garish, emerald green that surrounded him and encapsulated his heart with sudden, tight fear. It was something primal, something deep in his core that made his insides churn and squirm.

The figure wreathed in this unholy, disgusting light loomed over Shen. Its long strands of hair waved and fluctuated in the air with a life of their own. The hand laid upon him was a claw that slightly dug into his skin and unravelled his stained clothes. Shen’s home groaned underneath the weight of this piercing green glow and his bed sunk lower and lower to the ground as the wreathed figure stood over him like an executioner sharpening his axe.

It wasn’t long until shouting erupted outside and the shadowed figure above him sighed, “I know. I know. But we’ve planned for this. I’m sorry for the trouble, Shen. Tell Ti…well, it doesn’t matter.”

“Goodbye. And thank you for everything.”

Shen didn’t say anything back. His dry throat was clogged with thickening fear. He stayed still even when the figure left his room. And he stayed still when the screams erupted from outside his house and the clashing of blades and spears filled the night air.

Slowly, he took off his bandages. When his daughter burst into his room, she found him staring at the redwood flute in his hand. 

“How does it feel, my Prince? To have finally exercised your power?”

My response was to collapse myself against the side of a great oak tree and fall gracefully on my behind to the dry patch of dirt. My anima swirled around me in emerald glory with a varying mix of brass and silver at the edges. On my forehead was the symbol of my status; two great blades, crossed over one another. In my hand was my glass blade and its edges were slick with blood.

“Do you think it was good enough?” My breath was scalding hot with each word I spoke.

“It was certainly something, my Prince. Your trail is obvious and easy to follow so the Wyld Hunt should ignore your home for now. We have a window of grace at least, considering how isolated Bladefall is but that won’t last. Are you ready, my Prince?”

“As I’ll ever be,” I grunted out as I planted the glass blade tip first into the ground and forced myself up, “My apologies, by the way.”

“Whatever for, my Prince?”

“You’ve bonded with a fool,” I barked out a hoarse chuckle, “I had the perfect chance to simply get away but I didn’t take it.”

“Oh, my Prince,” Whisper chided me with soft words, “Remember how we met? Your stomach split open, your lifeblood pooling around you?”

I breathed hot air through my nose at the memory, “As if I could forget. But what does that have to do with anything?”

“First impressions are a powerful thing, my Prince. I have lived for a long, long time but I have met very few mortals with the will to do what you do. I could tell exactly what kind of person you were, my Prince. Especially now.”

My eyes glanced at my left arm when Whisper finished speaking. Or what remained of it, rather. Some cloth wrapped up in a tight knot covered it. My body twitched as a sharp, jagged pain shot from nowhere and travelled down my phantom limb.

“I consider this a lesson, my Prince; there is no pain without love and the hotter that omnipotent fire burns, the more it will use up as fuel. You would do well to heed this.”

Wordlessly, I started walking deeper and deeper into the forest. Where I trod, the bright green leaves of trees curled from the touch of my anima. The grass wilted and became silk with mildew and the bark on the trees peeled back. With a deep breath, I swung my blade once and all of the blood on it splattered to the ground in a curved pattern. I sheathed it and forced myself to stand straight as I walked through the night.

“You make it sound like I shouldn’t care at all.”

“I have heard that argument before and it bores me. To not care about anything or anyone is to be dead to yourself and the world. It is to let the river carry you along its currents rather than directing them. You were chosen because of your iron will and skill, my Prince. You only have those two things that Exalted you because you care.”

“That, I can’t deny. So what do you care about, Whisper?” I asked my Unwoven Coadjutor. In my mind, her intense desire blazed like a lit brazier.

“Us, my Prince. To aid you in your desires, even if it may burn Creation down to cinders. What else is there?”

“Anything else?” I asked dryly. I came across a gravel road with some lit lanterns but I retreated back into the forest before someone could see me. A hare dashed out behind me but my sword was faster. Its beheaded body smashed into a tree and it twitched violently as dark, red blood squirted out from the stump.

“Well, I’m quite partial to fine dining, the arts and so on, my Prince. It’s hard to go back to the slop and the frayed ends of serfdom after having tasted nobility.”

“Well, my apologies, Lady Whisper. My incompetent self can only procure this right now,” I grabbed the decapitated hare carelessly and some warm blood splashed on my feet. Whisper’s teetering laugh made my lips curl up.

“I’m sure the company will more than make up for it, my Prince. Keep moving for now and remain out of sight. Do you have an idea of where to use the key?”

“I do,” I said with a slow nod and so I began my journey and messily made a trail for the snakes to follow, “Whisper?”

“Yes, my Prince?”

“Thank you.”

Whisper’s confusion hit me like a fist to the temple but it only lasted a second before it went away, “It’s quite alright, my Prince. It is my function now to advise and guide you. Until death do us part, remember?”

“Until death do us part,” I repeated with a soft, pained chuckle. I sleuthed into the night, deeper and deeper still into the forest. Bladefall, Ti, Shen. My mother, my sifu. My home. These thoughts flashed through my mind one by one but they were put to rest.

I looked down at my hand. Clutched tightly in my grip was a key, wrought from verdigrised brass. Under the moonlight, it shone with an unnatural glint. With my remaining hand, I brought it close to my chest and my thumping heart.

Whisper had me retrieve this in-between my bouts of training. She said it was hidden by the cultist that had summoned her, a gift and a tool to me so that I may quickly abscond from the Blessed Isle.

All I needed to do was turn it in a lock.

“And you’re sure this will work, Whisper?”

“Of course, my Prince. But only if you’re certain. With this key, you shall have a few minutes and only one chance. If it is wasted, we will have to pursue other avenues.”

Was I certain? That question rolled around and tumbled inside my head. I thought about it over and over again. I had very rarely left beyond the borders of Bladefall, to say nothing of the Blessed Isle. And now, I was to journey from this world to another. To a place called Malfeas where I was, supposedly, to be crowned as the newest Green Sun Prince.

In truth, it still felt surreal. A dream that I was about to wake up from at any moment. My sifu, my mother, was to greet and tease me. To have my slumber disrupted by the sounds of my home and my junior students training in the yard. To pass the days lazily as I played my flute, swung my sword or spent my time with Ti.

In that haze, I stumbled myself back to the demesne. There, a door was propped up against the stone wall, bathed in an aqua glow. It was the same door that led to my personal room, burnt and half-destroyed. The sight of it was cold water enveloping me down on me and I knew this wasn’t a dream.

It was all gone. Every last thing. But I still had my life. And that was going to be the single biggest mistake that bastard filth ever made.

The key went into the lock of my destroyed door, and it rattled as if it was a cage holding a rabid animal. Brass fixtures latched onto the stone wall and glowed a harsh emerald light.

I twisted the key and the door to Hell opened to greet me as one of its own.

Chapter Text

“Welcome to Malfeas, my Prince. The Great City and all of its wonders, both terrible and great, are yours. Now and forever.”

The first thing I noticed about this place wasn’t the searing light that forced itself upon my eyes and blinded me for a brief moment. It wasn’t how I was suddenly pressed up against roughly hewn rock by an overwhelmingly huge shape that grunted past me. It wasn’t suddenly the many gazes of blurry, inhuman shapes that landed on me.

It was the noise. Hell was noisy, and I barely heard Whisper over the sounds of musical instruments, trilling roars, agony-filled screams and brass bells being struck blaring above, below and around me. The cacophony of the sheer pandemonium was an anvil pressing down on my mind, squeezing it into a tight press. Even my chest felt as if an iron clamp was latched on and pressed down on my lungs.

Dragons, it was so aggravating. How could anyone live like this?

My vision cleared when I brushed up against something hard and bristly. The smell of old blood and rotting meat became overwhelming. My vision cleared to see one of the most monstrously ugly faces I have ever laid eyes upon. A massive jaw filled with sprouting jagged teeth, meaty lips peeled back in an angry snarl with skin as thick as leather left out to dry in the sun and black as coal, combined with a flat nose and beady eyes far too small for its thick head.

It was ape-like, using its huge and bulbous knuckles on the hard igneous rock pavement that I found myself walking upon with ruined sandals. Bristly red fur covered its entire body with angry bony spines jutting out of its back and sides, and I found that I had bumped into this… Thing.

“Oh, uhm. My apologies,” I barely heard myself over the noise, and I must’ve been seen as such a dullard. The red ape-thing growled out something, and I decided to swiftly move away from it.

Which was the right move, I supposed, as it glared at me with hot anger that bubbled and frothed. But it simply grunted and moved on, disappearing into the choked crowd I had found myself in.

Huh. I half-expected it to try and kill me.

“Erymanthoi have a low, animal cunning to them, my Prince. Simple, perhaps even stupid, but they are not fools. Most likely, it recognized the lingering smell of your infernal essence and figured you were of some import. Ah, but it did threaten to split you open and drink your bone marrow.”

Oh. Lovely.

Having time to reorient myself, I took the time to finally drink in my new and frightening surroundings. Besides the skull-cracking racket, the most notable thing was the sun. Instead of gentle gold, it was a harsh emerald light which bathed everything in a constant shine of venomous green.

The key had open a door to some sort of walkway on the side of a building. Well, I say a building. It was a large, mountainous, even, rocky face of dull black marble with carved open windows which held a dizzying amount of shapes and noises that chirruped, screeched and rumbled at each other. On the front, vine-like vegetation crawled upon the side of the building, but rather than flush with a healthy green, they glinted with a brassy shine. Extending to the skyline, which held no clouds and was a sheet of ruddy-red, it was topped with an open-dome structure. High above, I saw a fiery red blur leaving behind a trail of mist heading straight for the dome.

A cloud just walked past me. Breezed? Except it wasn’t really a cloud. Sometimes, a sharp protrusion like that of a mantis blade peeked out, or a bulbous claw of a crab with a pale aqua carapace.

Tearing my gaze away, I slowly moved to the side of the pavement where a banister of bone-white stone stood. Resting my remaining arm on it, I cast a long gaze outward across this place.

There were more buildings. Some tall, some small, some wide, and some thin. Above me, stretching into the red sky and beyond my eyes, were roads. Some were big enough to hold a troupe of yeddims while others were more like garden paths. Below me, it was much the same, but I saw tents with spider-like beings and more besides shouting in scratchy voices and unknown words, offering a plethora of strange and curious items.

A market of some kind? Some kind of demonic bazaar? Behind my eyes, my companion’s presence swirled and swelled. Curiosity and thoughtful movements.

Close by, there was a tower unlike the others I’d seen, but a few like it dotted the basalt landscape before me.

A certain kind of nautilus-shell tower that, for some reason, flickered fond remembrance in my heart. As quickly as it came, it went away and I decided to ignore the strange emotion in me for now.

This is all a bit… Overwhelming, Whisper. What should I expect here?

“Normally, when a new Green Sun Prince makes their way to the Great City, they are greeted by a procession, followed by feasting, fornicating, fighting and fervor, usually flavoured by the Prince’s caste and their patrons.”

And my patron is… Cecelyne?

“Partly. Patrons in this case usually refer to two of the Yozi, my Prince. The architect of your Urge, the task given unto you, and the patron of your caste. In your case, your patrons would be Cecelyne, the Endless Desert, and Malfeas, the Demon City respectively.”

Ah, yes. The ‘Urge’. Between the breaks of my training, Whisper would inform me of what was expected. My duties as one of Hell’s Chosen. It was to be expected, after all. After all I had been given, of course it wouldn’t be free.

But that was for later. For now, I had more pressing matters.

This is a very dreary welcome then, Whisper.

“The cost of using a Key, my Prince. It may lead to the Great City, but it is a coin toss where exactly it leads you,” My coadjutor’s sigh was long and soft, “Had you been anywhere else besides that den of snakes, we could’ve found a crack in Creation leading to Malfeas and your presence would’ve been long felt. As it stands, you seem to be a stranger rather than a peer.”

A stranger? What does that mean exactly? I asked her as my gaze followed a white stag stamping its feet against the basalt road. Except it wasn’t really a stag, because normal deer aren’t made of writhing white tendrils and two brown baleful eyes. Two holes on the front of its face opened and closed as if it was two nostrils flaring.

“A stranger is an outsider in Malfeas. They are neither protected by the law, but neither are they beholden to it. Most strangers will become food, slaves or materials if they can not protect themselves, or have someone protect them.”

So until I reveal myself, I’m essentially at the mercy of every demon I come across?

“Yes, my Prince. Sooner rather than later, one serf will try their luck against you. Considering your current state and your lack of raw power, I advise you to reveal yourself.”

It was a good suggestion. I had my Charms, but they were meant to fix and mend. If a demon forced my hand, could I even defeat it? I was still down an arm, and a crippled human was easy prey among my own kind, let alone demons.

For being a Slayer, a supposed champion of Hell, I don’t quite feel as strong as I should be.

“Give it time, my Prince. You are newly born into your power, and your first forays were into She Who Lives In Her Name. With no more distractions at hand, you can familiarise yourself with your station as a Sword of Hell as you desire,” Whisper’s soothing, husky voice was my sole comfort in this blizzard of noise. The white stag-demon melted into the crowd, and my eyes drifted to another demon. This one was leaning out of a long, rectangular window, fluttering a sultry gaze to a red-haired ape. It was actually a ‘she’, a woman with light purple skin, pitch-black eyes and a bald head.

Well, let’s not-

A sudden burst of noise interrupted my thoughts. A cacophony of guttural growling, screeching howling, steel screaming out, followed by silence. In the metallic tasting air, there was a tang of blood. Turning my head behind me, I saw someone stumbling from the black monolith behind me, the brass doors rent open by a great force. The demonic crowd around us had parted as the shambling figure fell to their knees.

They were a woman, very obviously so, with a voluptuous figure and luscious curves. Dressed in bright crimson robes that would’ve been a sight to see if they weren’t little more than torn strips that barely protected her dignity. Her skin was a curious shade of bronze and two curling great horns, one of them broken and squirting out black fluid, jutted out from her onyx-black hair, which had been bound in some sort of net, though now it flowed freely around her. A blood-splattered veil covered her face, but I saw red droplets falling down beneath it.

Her fingers were delicate rending talons that gouged the basalt path as if it was wet cotton. In one of her hands was the head of… Something. I couldn’t quite tell, but it had a beautiful golden shine, dulled by her bloody grip and soon became crushed paste when she squeezed tightly.

Behind her, I noticed that the doors lead to a bloodbath. The corpses of things I couldn’t make heads or tails of, quite literally in some cases, stained the walls with their viscera. The floor was littered with a thick pool of red, which gently poured out of the doors like an open wound. Small chunks of obsidian glass were the flotsam in that pool as it slowly spread down the path. From deeper within, I heard the tongue of demons lashing out.

… Whisper, am I misunderstanding something, or did this demon just kill every other demon in the building that I came out of?

“Hmmm, by the sounds of it, not every demon. I can hear one of them shouting for her head and heart. Most likely the citizen that owns this establishment. As for this curious specimen…”

Whisper’s curiosity was jarringly stopped cold when the metal doors melted in a bubbling froth. The heavy scent of brimstone filled the air, clogging my nostrils with an acidic air. From the doorway came a thing wearing the shape of a broad-shouldered man with a contemplative expression. But instead of skin and hair, its entire body was this thick, sizzling yellow-brown sludge with tawny hide patches. Where some viscous droplets dripped to the floor, it sizzled and frothed the basalt road into sludge.

And besides that demon was a moving piece of pure emerald jade. A lion with a sleek, powerful body and claws like knives. Wounds dotting its form bled a sparkling green fluid and its eyes were ablaze with powerful, frightful light.

The jade lion said something, its timbre harsh and cutting, while the woman before me snarled something back in a low, throaty tone. She threw the crushed remains of whatever was in her hand at the lion, but the man-thing’s arm reached, stretched even, and grabbed it in its hissing grasp.

The throng of demons that surrounded me a moment ago had parted into two sides, giving a wide oval and open space between these figures. I was the closest, as I watched this strange battle, or the tail end of one, unfold before me.

“This one must be either brave, foolish, or ill-tempered. To make an enemy of the teodozjia is to invite eternal enmity onto oneself,” Whisper’s musing conjured an image of her lounging in a theatre with a fine cup of wine in her grip in my mind. I, however, couldn’t find it in myself to look away nor move.

There was something about this scene that made my throat clench and my mouth dry. And yet, I didn’t have the foggiest idea why. I couldn’t see the woman’s face beneath her veil, but every fibre of her being vibrated with rage and hatred directed at the jade lion, whose stone lips were peeled back to reveal a jaw full of emerald fangs. Its eyes darted to me and its contemptuous gaze intensified. Its fangs part as growled words-

“Reveal yourself, now!”

Whisper’s sudden spiked worry hit me before her words even formed, and Essence ran through me in a sudden and hot flush as instinct took hold. In an instant, my form was supplemented by that familiar glow of raging viridescent and tarnished silver. In the shine of the jade lion’s now bulging eyes, I saw the reflection of the crossed swords adorning my forehead, glinting with a brass shine.

I wasn’t quite sure what I was expecting, truthfully. Holding expectations was dangerous, and here, in this place? This malformed city of rock and metal, filled with mind-twisting creatures and inescapable noise?

Whisper said I was a Green Sun Prince, that I was a Chosen of Hell and that nothing was forbidden to me. That I would go out bearing the might of the Yozis, creatures that I still fully didn’t understand, and bring ruin to their enemies. That I would stand above the gods and dragons themselves.

I didn’t know about any of that. My own sifu, the woman who took me in and gave me her family name, was gutted in front of me like a common pig and I could do nothing, but watch as her body was consumed in sickly green flames. Her sword stolen, her dojo brought low, her blackened hand crumpling to ash in mine. Her glassy eyes staring at nothing. Her lips curved into a peaceful, fulfilled smile.

How was I supposed to be a prince of anything?

So when my anima flared around me in a blaze, I expected nothing to happen. To be brushed off and ignored, like it had happened so many times before. After all, I was once a crippled orphan who couldn’t ever awaken his Essence.

But something did happen. In the instant my anima flared, the surrounding area rumbled. It quaked with a violent and angry fit. The black marble edifice cracked from root to the dome above. Chunks of sable as big as horses fell down like rain and the demons scattered like grain of sands, hooting and howling and screaming. Many were squashed into a sticky goo of clashing colours, while the jade lion and acidic man fell into a yawning chasm that opened beneath them. For a brief moment, the discordance of Malfeas wasn’t music, yelling or screaming. It was the sound of stone breaking upon itself in great, brutal groans.

A pebble fell upon me, and it was from half of the dome. Breaking apart like a wet sand-castle, it was going to fall down and kill me. Or at least, it felt like it should. Instead, I found myself walking calmly forward. Despite the random and sudden destruction, this part of my day felt the most curiously natural.

“Terrible weather we’re having today, aren’t we?” I couldn’t resist myself, really. The bronze-skinned woman stared up at me in pure silence as my hand went to her shoulder and I pulled her close, so an errant piece of rubble didn’t kill her. Despite the danger, none of the falling stones came near me. Even the dome broke itself as it went through a sky-road. Bits and pieces of it crashed into the other buildings, bringing them down low to their very foundations.

The veiled woman shook under my hand, and I couldn’t decide if it was because of the earthquake or something else. Her veil was pointedly looking up into my face, but her expression was completely hidden underneath it.

“Flirting, even amongst this, my Prince? How scandalous of you.”

I’m not flirting! I was just trying to lighten the mood, that’s all.

“My Prince, the buildings around you are currently in the process of being destroyed.”

Point. Is this my fault? Did you know this was going to happen? I conceded as a dust cloud erupted and covered the pathway. The veiled woman ducked her head, muttering under her breath and I covered my eyes.

“No, my Prince, to both,” Whisper’s voice had been drained of all amusement or dispassionate pleasure, becoming low and fearful, “I thought you would have a welcome, but this is… Beyond what I could’ve ever dreamed.”

When the dust cleared, the rumbling had also stopped. Something coarse and sharp floated across my face, and my eyes inched open to see the sable building completely gone. The only proof of its existence were the hills of obsidian marble around me. The bustling market below was gone, the surrounding buildings were thrashed, and the towers had crumpled. The destruction of my dojo was a raunchy kitten knocking over its water bowl compared to the rampaging tiger that just stampeded around me.

But that wasn’t what caught my attention. Nor was it the bronze woman by my side who was staring around in a numb muteness, her wounds bleeding into my dirty clothes.

It was the silver sands pouring forth. Scouring away the basalt, the vines of copper and the black marble, silver sand poured forth from the massive opening where the building once stood. Replacing the haphazard music from before, the sounds of war drums thumping like thunder split the air, carried forth by the winds and swirling sands.

The winds, the sands and also the two small barques currently being carried forth by an innumerable throng of demons. From their decks spilled forth a torrent of that familiar sand, seemingly endless. I couldn’t tell if the vessels brought the sands, or if the sands brought them. Maybe it was both? Standing upon the barques were two identical figures, wearing black cloaks. Their faces were a shifting flame with the hue of clear skies during the month of Descending Earth and their hands were blackened bones holding dark, glassy blades.

Between the two barques was an empty palanquin of a strange mix of brass wood and azure metals with a silver veil. When they finally came close to me, the horned woman fell to the ground, pressing her head upon the pathway.

She was shaking, and it wasn’t with rage this time. I could barely utter a word before the procession reached us, and the two robed, flame-faced figures left their vessels as they were gently placed upon the ruined earth.

“The priests of Cecelyne… To think that I could one day…” It was hard to tell where my wonderment and Whisper’s awe started or ended, mixing together into a heady cocktail. When these figures reached me, they fell to their knees in unison and planted the tips of their blades into the ruined earth.

“The priesthood greets Prince Luo Silk-Touch, Chosen of The Great City, He Whose Heart Shines Above, and The Endless Desert, Lawgiver of Hell, our Eternal Lady whom has blessed us with Her written word,,” Whichever one of them spoke, their tone was deep and crackling as if a fire was gently burning dry wood. There was an echo to their words, as if reverberating in the air itself.

Oh, and they spoke perfect High Realm. Thank the dragons. I pushed my lips upwards into a smile, and I stepped forward. If my years jousting words with the snakes taught me anything, it is to always wear a smile.

“And I thank you for such an auspicious welcome, priests of my patron. I am impressed at how quickly you’ve found me,” I bade them to stand up with my one hand, and they did in perfect unison.

“It was foretold that you would make your way, but not where, Prince Silk-Touch. When the light of your station was revealed in part, the path was open to us by the will of the Yozi. Now, we have come to bear you aloft to the Conventicle Malfeasant, so that your profane communion may begin.”

“Then let us not tarry for long, shall we?” I couldn’t quite decide if I was being fetched, escorted or brought to heel, but it didn’t really matter. The two priests nodded, but they didn’t move back to their vessels. It was only the slight tilt of their flaming heads that I realised they were staring at the bowing woman at my feet.

“This one has broken the law of besmirching her better’s person and failing to notify the Ministry of Defeat of her takeover of Salt-Mouth Quarter. Prince Silk-Touch, as the offended party, do you desire to carry out the sentence yourself?”

“What?” I blurted, but before I said anything else, Whisper’s presence snapped behind my eyes.

“Say yes, my Prince,” She urged me with a forceful tone, “If you do not wish for your efforts to be wasted in saving this one. Otherwise, they’ll take her head.”

I didn’t… What would I even do? What kind of sentence could I possibly throw out that aligns with the laws of this place?

“That is entirely up to you, my Prince. But if I might make a suggestion, spare her. This one is more useful to us alive than dead.”

I wondered exactly what Whisper’s plan was here, but her determination and need burned like a hot poker pressed against my skull. Letting my gaze wander down to the prostrating woman before me, I reached down and placed my hand on her unbroken horn. It was surprisingly hot under my touch, and my anima flared as Essence, cold and rigid, flowed down into her. Her shaking, half-naked body came to a dead stop and her broken horn scabbed over while the wounds slowly closed.

“There. I have doled out the sentence as I see fit. Let us be on our way, shall we?” I turned my attention back to the priests and they nodded dutifully. They led me to the lowered palanquin and a thick-armed, crimson ape opened the door for me, and I noticed that its eyes had been sewn shut with thick, lead wires. The inside was empty save for the thick, pillowy seats and the emblem of my caste emblazoned on the roof.

I sat down, and it was the comfiest seat I had ever known. After everything, I melted into the palanquin’s inside and placed my sword opposite of me.

“Is there anything you desire, Prince Silk-Touch?” One of the priests asked me, which gave me pause briefly.

“Some food and drink would not go amiss,” Dragons, it felt like forever ago when I last had a proper meal. The priest’s head of flame tilted, and its deep voice warbled out something I didn’t understand. From the procession came two demons, the same nubile purple-skinned and bald women I had seen before. Just like the ape, their eyes were sown shut, but unlike the ape, they were pleasant to look at.

It might have something to do with the fact they were completely naked save for various piercings and a broach of a blue, empty hourglass, their breasts hanging low and swaying with every slight movement and the slit between their thick legs completely visible, a faintly sweet smell accompanying that made me… Uncomfortable. Or the plates of succulent looking meat, plump grapes and brass chalices sloshing with wine, water and liquid that almost seemed to squirm under my gaze, but I found that I couldn’t quite look away from them.

The snakes back in the dojo were beautiful, some more than others, and it was a weapon they used against me more often than not. Or they tried to, those putrid so called ‘students’.

And here I was, thinking that I had moved past such ignoble things like this.

“Enjoying yourself, my Prince?”

Shut up, Whisper.

“These acolytes will tend to your needs, Prince Silk-Touch. Use them as you see fit,” I tried not to think about what the priest exactly meant by that, but I accepted them with a silent tilt of my head. Once again, something was said by the priest and the same ape opened the door to let the two lavender-skinned women inside.

Well, I suppose being one-armed came with some certain perks. Could hardly feed myself while so woefully injured, after all. Through the silver veil, I saw the inhabitants of this strange place finally crawl out of the rubble, streets and doors. The kaleidoscope of their eyes melted into a singular, searing gaze. Despite the nubile demon-women beside me, their dainty fingers moving sensually to feed me, my sole hand twitched for my blade.

If they fell upon me now, could I survive? If I fought back, if I swung my blade, where would it end? Where could I run to?

And then, my palanquin lifted from the ground and the air itself ruptured with the ecstatic howling of demons. Above the war drums, above the music, above the wind itself, things that I’d never seen before and never thought I’d live to see threw themselves at the ground, their heads, or what passed for heads, touched the silvery sand where we passed and beat their chests in violent displays of raw strength.

My body stilled. And my hand no longer itched to hold my blade. My smile relaxed as I decided to take a bite of the juiciest grape I had ever tasted.

Whisper, can I ask you something?

“Yes, you should’ve taken advantage of the two neomah and indulged yourself in their flesh, my Prince.”

I distracted myself by checking my regrowing arm and most certainly paid no attention to the phantom sensation of lingering warmth where the two demon-women sat.

One, that wasn’t what I was going to ask. Two, this is hardly the place for such acts. What the hell would people think if they saw me doing… Things so publicly?

“My Prince, do not forget that your emotions and feelings afflict me as if they were my own. You don’t think I can’t feel the flush of your body? The tension wound up in your core like a coiled spring? It isn’t healthy for a virile young man to be so tightly restrained.”

Dragons, you sound like my sifu. She kept hounding me about trying to settle down with a woman, I mentally scoffed, but there was a flicker of warmth as I remembered those bygone times.

“I’m not asking you to marry them, my Prince,” A mental nudge from Whisper that I recognized as a sort of eye roll, “But go on. What is it that you desire to know?”

Turning my eyes to the window, I saw that the parade of demons was still going on. The buildings quite literally broke and remade before my eyes as we carved a singular, bloody path through this city. And yet, none of the demons seemed to care.

Why did you ask me to spare that demon? The one with bronze skin and a broken horn?

“Ah, that one,” Whisper’s words and presence frothed in my mind like a bubbling spring, “First, she was no demon. At least, not fully. She was a Demon-Blooded.”

A Demon-Blooded? I’ve heard of tales from the Immaculates about the degeneracy of gods spreading their seed and siring half-mortal children. Are you saying that she was a product between a human and a demon?

“Most likely, though there are other ways to become such. For now, that hardly matters. As for why, that’s quite simple and two-fold: You were already going to save her, regardless of what I said, and I believe it would be best to seek her out later, if she doesn’t come to you first.”

I shifted in my devilishly comfy seat, Yes, well… I just didn’t enjoy the idea of her trying so hard to do whatever it was she was doing, only to die due to bad luck. That’s all.

“Of course, my Prince,” There was a knowing smile in Whisper’s words that I chose to ignore, “But regardless, that woman holds some measure of power. She will make a fine first addition to your coven.”

My what?

“Ah, silly me. I’ve been a bit remiss in my duties,” I watched outside of the window and through the silver veil to see a pillar of fire with the same colour currently dancing amongst the cheering demons. For a moment, I thought I saw a human moving within the argent flames.

“A coven is, essentially, a Prince’s companions and servants. Such as the Dragon-Blooded have sworn brotherhoods, so do the Green Sun Princes have covens. But due to the rarity and scarcity of your fellow brothers and sisters in arms, covens are usually made up from powerful mortals, puissant demons or akuma.”

Companions? Strange. For some reason, I never thought about anyone actually helping me in this endeavour. There was a strange comfort to be found that I wasn’t going to be alone, at least.

Well, less alone. Whisper and I were until death do us part, after all.

Tell me about the other Princes, Whisper. Have you met them before?

“No, not personally, but I know of them, my Prince. Not counting you, there are currently five of your peers currently incarnated, two of your generation and three of the previous. The oldest of your generation is a Malefactor by the name of Lintha Dewantara Sister Olga, followed by a Defiler, The Tin Spider.”

I have never heard of such… Unique names in my life. Especially the former, A slight tingle ran down my left arm. Glancing down at it, I saw that my regrowth had progressed to my wrist. First came bone which became wrapped in numerous blood vessels, followed by ligaments knitting itself back into place.

“Prince Olga hails from the Lintha family, far to the West. To make it brief, the Linthas are an old and long line of Demon-Blooded that claim descendance from the Great Mother, Kimbery, herself. As for her person, I can not claim anything deeper than rumours that have arisen here and there. That she rode a boat of bone and sinew with an ocean of acid carving through the Great City, or that she sacrificed over two hundred and twenty-two slaves upon her coronation.”

That… I don’t believe calling that a ‘rumour’ does it justice. I’d keep my opinion close to my chest for now and wait to see for myself, but by the dragons.

And what about this Tin Spider, Whisper?

“Afraid I know even less about that one, my Prince. I did catch sight of him once, during his procession. A man in the spring of his youth, even younger than you, with a thin spindly body and stark white skin. He stood upon a machine that drove itself, crushing through stone and flesh. From what I have heard, he owns a small fiefdom in Malfeas with a manse. Other than that, he’s a bit of a recluse, meeting only with citizens of the Second Circle and the unquestionables.”

A fiefdom? So he lives here? But if he did, why not just stay at the Conventicle?

“You will have to ask him if you’re curious, my Prince. As for the others, I know more about them. There was once a Defiler and a Slayer amongst them, but they perished a year or so ago. How or why, I’m afraid that eludes me as well.”

Well-

“Prince Silk-Touch. We have arrived,” My conversation with Whisper came to a dead stop when the crackling voice of a priest. The silver door of my palanquin opened, and I tore myself away from the seat. By now, my arm had returned to its former, pristine state, and I was no longer crippled. The weight of my sword was my one of two sources of comfort as a long, dark shadow fell over me. I looked up, and I saw the Imperial Mountain before me.

Or rather, what I imagined it would look up close.

A stupa towered over me. But to call it ‘just’ a stupa was to call the Imperial City just a city. Or, I suppose, the Demon City just a city. It was correct, but it didn’t capture the vast magnitude in front of me.

More than any other tower, building, arch, road, or structure I had seen since coming here, the stupa was a behemoth unto itself. Made from verdigrised brass that shone with an emerald glint that glared so brightly, it almost made the stupa itself a facsimile of Hell’s green sun. Interlocking shards of black bone surrounded the stupa, easily dwarfing the more ‘mundane’ structures near it, though they paled to what they protected.

The only entrance was, funnily enough, a torii gate. Not unlike what my sect used to have. But instead of thick, sleek oak, this one was made out of pulsing, petrified flesh. Veins of black and lead crawled along its sides, twisting around. It held no doors, leading to an open staircase of pitch-black wide enough that Bladefall would barely, just barely, a smudge on it.

“They await you, Prince Silk-Touch,” The priests bowed their heads to me, and I didn’t have to ask any questions on whom ‘they’ were. For once, Whisper’s presence in my mind was curling upon itself, as if trying to fit into some hidden crook. My hand tightened on my sword until the scabbard bent.

Nervous?

“... I am scared, my Prince,” She murmured gently. My lips curled into a smile.

That makes two of us then.

Wordlessly, I nodded my thanks to the flame-faced priests and walked towards the Conventicle. When my foot landed on the first step, I was no longer striding in the shadow of the Conventicle Malfeasant.

My feet touched the sky. Above me, stars twinkled and died with a whimper. For the first time, there was only one noise forcing itself down my ears and it was the beating of a furious, metal heart. My world became blistering, verdant light. Heat so fierce, so angry, that every nerve on my body erupted in the purest of agony that I could not scream. My throat was pinched closed as every muscle in my body burned and sized.

And then, as quickly as it happened, it was over. The pain, that was. The sickly green light remained, and it encompassed the sky and the stars, drowning them out and devouring them. My knees fell and hit something, and sweat drenched me in a pouring river. Heaving great, empty breaths, I held onto my sword and it held onto me, even as Whisper’s words in my mind were a distant, far din.

DO YOU KNOW ME?

I did. Every part of me knew who this was. Every fibre of my being screamed itself raw and bloody, all saying the same thing. My head, bowed, jerked slightly and it was as if the world itself was closing around me.

AS YOU SHOULD. AS EVERY PRINCE SHOULD KNOW THEIR KING. LOOK NOW UPON ME AND WITNESS.

The mounting pressure on the back of my head lessened as if a great weight was lifted off. Craning my head up drained more effort from me than anything else I’d ever done. And in that searing, omnipresent light of vicious green, I saw a shape. Malformed, uneven and covered in weeping scabs that were alive with teeming ticks, and sores that wept brass, lead, black iron, tin and more besides. It expanded until the sky itself became torn, wretched stone-flesh and metal-blood. The green sun flared down at me with a malice that would not fade, even after an eternity.

I AM THE DEMON EMPEROR. I AM THE CITY, THE PRISON AND THE SUN. AND YOU, LUO SILK-TOUCH, ARE MY SWORD. THE COMPACT OF THE RECLAMATION ALLOWS MY SIBLINGS TO WIELD THE SWORDS OF HELL, BUT THEY ARE STILL MINE.

There was nothing I could do. Nothing I could say. Around me, it felt like the fires of my dojo once more, but infinitely hotter and filled with a spiteful life that refused to peter out. I swallowed dry, heated air and my lungs burned.

YOU HAVE BEEN GIVEN THE GREATEST HONOUR. TO TOPPLE THE THRONE OF THE TRAITOROUS GODS. TO CLAIM THE STILL-BEATING HEARTS OF THEIR PALTRY CHOSEN. TEN IS THE NUMBER OF BLADES THAT WILL PLUNGE INTO THE HEART OF CREATION AND TWO SCORE AND TEN IS THE NUMBER OF AGONIES IT SHALL SUFFER FOR ALL TIME. IT WILL BLEED ITS LIFE-BLOOD UNTIL CHAOS ITSELF DROWNS. WHEN THE TIME COMES, YOU SHALL BE AMONG OUR CHOSEN TO LEAD OUR INNUMERABLE ARMIES ACROSS THE FIELDS OF WAR.

A vision flashed by my eyes. I saw a figure, outlined against a terrible green fire and wielding a sword of tarnished bronze. Single edged and long, with emerald runes flaring. The figure stood against great, beautiful gates and with a single swing, it cut them down to reveal a city of splendour and the golden sun.

Behind the figure stood a ruined Creation. The land was blighted and dead, the sky was ruptured and bleeding, and silver sand seeped into every crack left as the marching of a howling demon horde was heralded by a blistering green sun.

DO THIS, AND YOU SHALL KNOW CLEMENCY. RECLAIM WHAT WAS STOLEN FROM US.

For a moment, I thought that would be the end of it. That this presence of light, flame and stone would recede away.

It didn’t.

YOU HAVE A QUESTION.

Mela’s tits.

ASK IT.

The skin on my lips felt as if they were peeling. I licked them, but my entire mouth was a desert. I looked at the misshapen, malformed thing in front of me that burned with the radiance of an angry sun.

“Will I get my revenge?” Did I even speak the words, or was just thinking them enough? I didn’t know. But whatever the case was, the overwhelming presence shifted. The greenish light, as if it was possible, brightened even more.

SERVE, AND VENGEANCE SHALL BE YOURS. AGAINST THE DEATHKNIGHT THAT SLEW YOUR MOTHER. AGAINST THE DRAGONS THAT SPAT UPON YOU. AGAINST CREATION, WHICH REJECTED YOU. GO, AND CUT UNTIL IT IS DONE.

And then, the sky cracked beneath my feet and I fell towards an endless, silver desert.

When my eyes opened, the burning radiance was gone. The sky above me was an endless advance of darkness, no stars to guide or look up to you. It was almost comforting after everything. To just hear nothing, but silence, and to have that damned sun out of my eyes.

Whisper? Are you well? My thoughts ventured out to my companion, and I felt her stirring weakly.

“No better than you, my Prince,” Whisper’s words shared her namesake, and a shiver ran through us both, “I… I couldn’t think. I tried speaking to you, but words escaped me.”

And from me, as well. But where are we now? I asked my companion as I looked over myself. Despite everything, I was exactly as I was before. My skin wasn’t peeled back, my bones were not blackened to char, and my sword was fine. I had half-expected it to break or turn to slag. But the crystal blade was still as sharp and clear as the day Shen handed it over to me.

“Cecelyne. The Endless Desert,” Whisper’s words were full of reverence and trepidation, “She borders Malfeas, acting as a natural barrier. She must want to speak with you, but…”

I sat up, and I found that I was on some kind of hill. Looking behind me, I saw the starless night sky bleed into a familiar emerald light. Ahead of me were dunes of argent sands that stretched as far as I could see, sparsely populated by desiccated bushes and crooked leafless trees of pale wood.

I’m not going to complain if we can catch our breath. If meeting with Her is going to be anything like what just happened, we might need it.

“Still, I urge you to not tarry for long, my Prince. The sooner, the better, as they say,” It was hard to tell if Whisper’s urging was more cautious or fearful, but I concurred with her. Pushing myself up to my feet, I picked a random direction and started walking.

And I walked. And walked. The silver sand beneath my feet wasn’t hot, but neither was it cold. It felt more akin to a thousand tiny sharp blades pricking at the soles of my feet. My sandals did nothing to obstruct them, and neither did my dirty and torn robes as they flit in every nook and cranny.

But I walked on, and on, and on. I walked until my knees felt weak, and my legs became lead weights. Leaning up against one of the dead trees, I caught my breath.

And then I walked on. And on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on-

There was an oasis, and a woman was laying by its side. Her hand was wading through the clean water with a slow, leisurely movement. She was grabbed in a simple, blue robe that fluttered as if buffeted by wind.

There hadn’t been any wind as long as I’d been walking. Walking for… Whisper and I stopped counting after we reached the ten thousandth step sixty times. Or was it seventy?

“Sit with me,” The woman’s voice was quiet, contemplative and brimming with command. My throat flexed as I swallowed a hard lump of nothing that travelled down to my empty stomach, and my bare, blistered feet made their way over to her. Slowly and painfully, my creaking body sat by the stranger. In my mind, Whisper churned.

“Drink,” I couldn’t see her face behind the blue cowl, but I didn’t hesitate. My hand cupped some water, and I brought it to my lips. It flowed down my throat like liquid gold, and I felt every ache, every pang of hunger and pain melt away from me. Wiping away the droplets from my lips, I looked over to the woman, but her face was still hidden from me. It wasn’t her appearance I was interested in, however.

It was her voice. I’ve heard it before. It was the same voice that spoke to me on my last day as a mortal.

“Do you know what your duties are?” She ask-No. It wasn’t a question. She wasn’t asking anything. It was a demand.

“... The Reclamation,” To my surprise, my voice was firm and strong after everything, “To turn Creation into Hell and free the Yozi to reclaim what was taken from them.”

The woman didn’t nod, but her hand stopped moving, “Yours, and all other Princes. What is your Urge?”

“To use infernal arts to dominate the Martial Arts World,” The words escaped from me and the sands shifted beneath me. Then, and only then, did the figure turn her head to me, and I was struck by how beautiful she was. Her features were as smooth as marble and just as white. Her lips were full, coloured with an azure shade, and her noble features gazed at me emptily with two hollow sockets.

“You, who could not even practice a single art, will become a master of any you choose. You, who were weak and crippled, are now made whole by my will. When you stand above even the Fivescore Fellowship, then, and only then, will you embody the sole truth.”

“... The strong rule, and the weak worship them for it,” This woman did not react, not even a smile, nor did she even seem capable of it. But there was a sense of something in the air that shifted with those words.

“You have a question.”

Mela’s tits, again?

“Ask it.”

“Why me?” The words slipped from me, and the sands stopped shifting, “If you wanted someone to rule over martial artists, to stand as the zenith, then why me? There must be countless others more skilled, more talented, more ambitious than I. Why not one of them?”

The days of wallowing at the bottom of a bottle or tankard still haunted me like a spectre. I had no doubt that Whisper and, by proxy, my patrons were watching me in that humiliating state. And they still decided to choose me as one of their Chosen.

I had to know why. The question burned in my core like a pyre that refused to be doused.

“Because I have chosen you and deemed you worthy, Luo Silk-Touch. All else is folly. Because you will not rest to prove yourself, and in doing so, you will carve a path open,” As she spoke, the sands riled themselves into a furious, silent gale. The oasis was scoured to the bedrock, and we were swept up in silver sands that covered my gaze in the fury of the desert. My robe tore and ripped, while she stood stolidly in the middle of this vortex. I tried to cover my face to protect it, but two hands gripped them by the wrist, and I was forced to stare up at her eyeless face that poured out endlessly specks of sand. Scorpions of dull white, mice and lizards crawled out, running across her body and mine.

“Now go, my silver blade,” Her voice was both quiet and became the roaring gale around us as she drew me closer and closer still, “Prove the betrayers that there is only the law of our might. And theirs is the sin of frivolity and weakness.”

The woman’s body cracked like a porcelain doll, and sands poured from the cracks. Soon, I was consumed, and my screams were smothered by sands filling my lungs.

Once again, my eyes snapped open and I wrenched myself up. Slick sweat stained every part of my body, and a perverse stickiness clung to me. For the first time I came here, I was glad to hear music. A soothing malady that calmed my raging heart, which threatened to tear itself out of my chest. My eyes snapped around me to see that I was in some sort of lavish bed chamber. I was laid on a wide, open bed with thin, translucent sheets of the finest cloth that I’ve ever known, and wide fluffy pillows that felt out of place in Malfeas.

The room itself was large, and open. Fluted pillars of deep, black marble stood in the four corners, and above me was a mural of some kind. It depicted a battle, or a war of some kind. A marching host of gold and silver warriors flanked by shining stars, fighting spear, blade, tooth, nail and claw against searing, green light.

To my right was an open veranda of smooth basalt with a rail of tarnished brass that looked across the Demon City. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I shook my groggy head as if to dislodge the weights that had settled inside my skull.

“I would ask how you feel, but that feels rather redundant for one such as myself,” Whisper’s voice came to me slowly and faint, as if speaking through water. But oh, it was a joy to hear her once again.

If nothing else, I know of the importance of my duty now. They impressed that enough on me. Do you think it was… Like that for the others?

“I can’t quite rightly say, my Prince. But it wouldn’t surprise me if it was.”

Nor I. But where are we? Do you recognize this place? I slowly stood up to my feet, and the floor was warm to my bare feet. A quick glance, and I saw that the floor of the entire bed chamber was a reflective copper and in that reflection, I was completely naked.

I surely do not hope that interacting with infernal beings keep resulting in me losing my clothes.

“No, but if I had to guess, this is your personal townhouse in the Conventicle Malfeasant. You were most likely brought here after Cecelyne was finished with you, as only by your invitation can anyone enter here.”

Ah, so this is what you mentioned before. It is… Big.

Well, first things first. Let’s see if I can’t find some clothes first. A quick glance to my left showed me that there was an open walk in closet, bursting with clothes and jewellery that caught my eye. There was a full-length mirror that shifted and changed my reflection slightly. When my fingertips drifted across it, I saw it change to reveal my naked back, as if I had turned around.

My lips peeled back in a cringe as I saw the stringy, dried state of my greasy hair. Patches of dried brown dirt clung to me from my arms, to my elbow, to my knees and even my immaculate behind. Dragons, I needed a bath. Perhaps one made of fire for a thorough cleansing.

Looking across the assorted jewelry, a myriad of brass and copper rings, necklaces of black iron and dull gold, and bracers of ivory and obsidian glass, something caught my eye. Taking it from the carefully crafted and multi-layered cases, the necklace I had chosen was a chain-link of reflective silver, and it held a symbol of the sun, forged from verdigrised copper. There was a dull emerald in the centre of the sun, and it was warm to the touch. More than that, I felt a strange emptiness within it. As if yearning to be filled.

“Ah, an artefact. A collar of emerald sun’s fiery blight, if I’m not mistaken. If you desire to be clean and for no dirt to mar you again, my Prince, then attune to this necklace, and it will clean you better than a thousand baths.”

If it cleans, why does it have blight in the name?

“Attune to it and find out,” Was Whisper’s curious answer, and I decided to not question it anymore. If memory serves correctly, I’d already seen something similar back home. More often than not, the particularly wealthy students would wear artefacts that kept them clean, pristine and a walking reminder of affluence.

Working more on instinct, I fed my Essence into the necklace. A shadow of a trickle compared to how the rushing torrents in the past, but it was a more delicate process. Or perhaps foreign would be a better word? The necklace was almost life-like in how eagerly it merged with my Essence, mingling and merging until it became impossible to tell the two apart.

It was… Good. It was calm. My mind was taken off from seething suns of metal and malice, of hollow faces flowing with tears of sand, scorpions and lizards. Of Their words ringing and pounding and throbbing and thrashing in my head as if a thousand hammers were striking at the same time.

Soon enough, the process was finished and I placed the artefact around my neck. When it clipped on, a faint greenish glow encompassed me and I watched in the mirror, captivated, at how every inch of dirt and refuse on my body was quite literally burnt away. The greasy strings of my hair flashed verdant before they flowed as if freshly cleaned and I ran my fingers through my scalp.

Dragons, it’s been so long since I last felt so clean. But being clean was just the first step to being not just presentable, but truly enthralling. And I always looked my best, no matter what.

Or tried to, at least. The last couple of weeks have been… Busy. In the closet, there was also a vanity table towards the back, seemingly grown from the copper flooring. Sitting down on the cushioned seat, I got to work. Among the vanity table, there was a selection of brushes to apply cosmetics that ranged from onyx-black lip colouring, bronze nail polish, brass kohl for my eyelashes and golden liquid.

“I see you enjoy taking care of yourself, my Prince,” Whisper’s levity swirled around me and it was such a calming thing. I opened a draw of the vanity and I found what I was looking for: A range of hair needles.

A slow, half-smile flitted across my face, I didn’t used to. Back when I was a child, I didn’t see the point. After all, I was running myself ragged back then trying to learn the sword, bow or fist. Rare was the day when sweat didn’t stick to me like a second skin.

“Oh? So what changed?”

I grabbed one of the needles, a thin sharp piece of solid gold, but it was a bit loud for my tastes. It clashed too much with my black hair, and Whisper’s silent frown joined was more than enough for me to choose another.

Do you remember Ti? My friend, the blacksmith’s daughter?

“Her? Truly you jest,” My companion’s shock drew a chuckle out of me as my fingers glided across the needles.

True, she wears the smudges of coal, ashes and embers proudly. But it happened back when we first met, when my sifu decided that I should experience some life outside the sect.

I took a decorated brass needle, inscribed with miniscule wavy lines that resembled flames in verdigris green. This, along with a silver needle with a subtly shifting pattern of turquoise and a pitch-black needle of obsidian glass, are the ones I liked the most, and I started bundling up my hair.

Quite a bit happened between us, but we became friends soon after our first meeting. Then she asked me how I could be so ugly while my sifu was so pretty.

With my hair bundled up as it should be, I sheathed the black needle into the topknot I had made, and looked over myself. It was good, but black-on-black wasn’t very eye-catching. Decisions, decisions…

“And that cut you deeply, I suppose?”

It did. Far more than it would’ve normally, but the way she said it almost made me weep back then. I didn’t understand it at the time, but I knew that I would have to change.

And so I did. I took more time caring about what sort of robes I would wear, cleaning regularly beyond the forced bath times, and even asking my sifu for advice about all sorts.

Anything to prove the snakes wrong about her. Anything to prove that the whispers were wrong, and that we weren’t wastes. That our lives had meaning, even if it was something beyond what they could possibly understand.

Of course, simply dressing better didn’t stop them. Didn’t stop their judging gazes and sneers hidden behind fake smiles. But it made my sifu smile, so how could I stop?

Over time, it just became a habit. No matter what, I always tried to look my best. It is only recently I have slipped up, but I think I can be forgiven due to the circumstances.

“Of course, my Prince. If I may, I suggest the brass needle. It’ll complement your fine self and stand out in your topknot.”

I agree. And, if I’m being honest, I’ve had quite enough of silver for today.

Whisper didn’t respond, but she didn’t have to. I slipped the needle into place, tightening my hair, and watched with satisfaction as it all settled into place. Moving away from the vanity table, it was time to finally clothe myself.

There were more outfits in here than I could possibly ever count or care to, but with Whisper’s silent urging, I found one relatively quickly. A simple, but beautifully woven silken viridescent kimono with bronze linings and black edges. Going through the motions of something resembling normalcy was more intoxicating than the ale I quaffed down back home. And just like the ale, it didn’t last as I slipped my sheathed blade into my robe’s sash.

“Dashing, my Prince. Positively dashing,” Whisper’s words weren’t needed, but the genuine compliment drew a smile across my face.

Thank you, thank you. I always aim to please. And I’m glad that we could do something normal after everything.

“I concur, my Prince. Even I was overwhelmed by their sheer presence,” I couldn’t tell if the shudder running through me was my own, Whisper’s, or both, “Thankfully, all that is left to worry about is your coronation. After that, you’re free to pursue the Reclamation how you desire.”

Anything I should expect? What does this coronation entail exactly? I pondered as my feet slowly carried me to the open veranda.

“Now that you've met with your patrons, every one of your peers will be beckoned by a dream-message that a new Prince has been chosen and they are to attend a gathering of the Althing. There, you’ll meet with your fellow Princes and introductions will be made. After the Althing is concluded, your coronation is complete, a feast and a celebration held in your honour will capture Malfeas for quite some time.”

My peers. It was such a curious word that I truly didn’t know. All of the time, I would hear it in the sect. Of my junior brothers and sisters, and my ‘peers’ of those that were seniors. And yet, it was ultimately a word that meant nothing to me. A peer is an equal, and among the snakes, I ultimately was not an equal.

Would I even be an equal to the other Princes? I doubted it. That caused me no issue, for even I was a junior brother once. To me, there was no problem from paying due respect to my seniors, but only if that respect was returned.

I suppose I’ll just have to wait and see. After meeting with my patrons, I didn’t think any of the other Princes would match them. Eventually, I stood upon the veranda and I looked across Malfeas, and its twisted landscape. From so high up, the masses of demons teeming below merged into an amorphous blob of clashing colours and shapes. Things flew across the sky such as wasp-like things that caught my eye, giant jellyfish-like creatures or handmade vehicles that I’d only heard about from rumours. And all of it was bathed in a searing emerald light that was pleasantly warm on my back.

From up here, it was such a maddening picture, but there was a certain inhumanity to it that drew me in. There was no pretense, I realised. There was nothing hidden here from me. This was an unapologetically brutal, twisted place and there was beauty in that I found.

Shen once told me that he thought I ended my own life during my five days of absence. I was shocked, but I think a part of me was hoping for it.

“... My Prince?” Whisper’s quiet shock caused a cold frost to blossom over my heart.

It wasn’t the fact that I failed in killing the anathema that made me sink so low. It was because I realised that I was so weak. That, at any moment, a strong breeze was all it took to simply knock over the foundations of my life and I was left with nothing. The snakes that fled? They had families, sponsors, homes to go back to. If they still wished, they could join another dojo, study under another sifu. The Even Blade Style is wide-spread, after all. It made everything seem so… Pointless. Fragile.

A world of sand. That was what everything had become to me. And I sunk deep into its inescapable depths. Not even Ti or Shen could drag me out.

That night, when my sect burned. When my mother was killed, do you want to know what I saw? That truly drove the point on how worthless I was?

Whisper’s presence coiled and churned inside of me like a snake ready to pounce, hungry and its jaw yawning wide. More than words could ever say, she gave me her answer.

Her sect was destroyed, burning around her. The corpses of her friends that she shared laughter and tears with were strewn about her in bloody chunks. Students, both old and young, were burning in sickly green flames and everything she had ever worked for was ruined due to this breeze that came in and toppled it.

A shaky, deep breath of warm air filled my lungs, and my hands landed on the railing to steady myself.

She was smiling. A smile so wide, so joyful, so unabashedly filled with lust and yearning as she crossed blades with her killer that rang out into the midnight air like the gongs of the Imperial City itself. I couldn’t even get near due to their animas flaring and mingling into a stygian, oceanic mix, but I saw her smile which she kept even in death. At that moment, I realised that I was never, ever be able to make my sifu so fulfilled right then and there.

It was a sobering realisation. The woman I devoted everything to, who I loved and admired for my whole life, showed her murderer a side of herself that even I wasn’t privy to. That I might have never been privy to, had that night not happened.

How was I supposed to react to that? What was I supposed to feel besides this burning in my chest that inflamed at the memory of that night?

I tried killing him afterwards. I failed, obviously. He took her daiklave and the last thing I remember was him staring down at me. When I awoke, well… You most likely know the rest.

Something rose within me. At first, I thought it was Whisper’s discomfort, but no. It was something coming entirely from me, from the depths of my soul. My lips trembled into a quivering smile.

“Ha… Hahahahaha! Hahahahaha!” And then it burst out of me, a bubble finally popped as it all crashed down on me at once. The sheer absurdity of it all didn’t even make me angry, at least not right now. When my legs grew weak, I rested against the railing and laughed, and laughed, and laughed until it finally petered out and tears pricked the corners of my wet eyes.

And now, not only do I live, I was given the task of becoming a martial arts master by the very makers of my world. In the short time I’ve been here, I’ve seen cities topple to make way for my approach, demons chant and roar my name until their throats become bloody, bowing and scraping at my presence and worked magics that the snakes could only dream of. If there’s anything I have learned, it is this, my companion.

Pulling myself up, I dabbed at my eyes with my sleeve and wiped away the beads of salty water. My face muscles ached as my lips parted into a wide, open smile.

Shen was right. Life goes on. And as long as it does, so shall I.

And, for the first time I have arrived, I simply enjoyed the noise of the Demon City and drank it all in.