"It is typical for people to attach meanings to names, every culture in the world does that. Few did it as literally as the Al-Shan Empire's Huan people however, who directly used the actual words or parts of the words from their language as their actual names. No other culture except the merfolk used this sort of nomenclature, and many assumed that the practice came from extended interaction with merfolk." - Zhang Guan-Zhu, Al-Shan Scholar.

For only god knew how many times for the day, Ying pinched the skin on the inside of her left forearm with her right hand, and twisted until she really felt pain. The pain helped jolt her mind. Its presence assured her that no, this was not a dream, and she needed not fear that she would suddenly wake up from it.

It was all still so hard for her to believe, though. Even as the warmth of the water in the bath embraced her body, and as the trained hands of a masseuse kneaded away aches from her shoulder, she still had a hard time to believe it.

The doubt was further reinforced by how she's currently inside a lavish bath inside the Imperial Palace. The bath itself so large it could have fitted the entire brothel she lived her childhood at inside. The identity of the pretty woman who bathed beside her and absentmindedly played with strands of Ying's hair as they floated in the water was no help either.

Layla bin Mansoor al-Haroone, the nineteen year old girl who was also the current Empress of the Al-Shan Empire, looked at the younger girl beside her fondly. The girl they rescued off Shan-Hu had slowly opened up more during the short trip they took between the islands as they made their way back.

She knows that the younger girl needed time. Time to heal the scars left on her mind by the inhuman torment she had been subjected to the last two years. Even now the girl was still quite fidgety, one reason Xain had not joined them in the bath.

It made horrible sense that the mere sight of a naked man would have sent the girl into hysterics with what she had experienced.

Because of how she was somewhat averse to men, Xain had left her rehabilitation mostly in Layla and Samira's hands. He only made periodical checks to ensure the girl that he remembered and worried for her. Layla knew that her husband-emperor's bleeding heart would have liked to help comfort the girl as well, but with how she was, this was for the best.

Ying looked at Layla's kind eyes and gave a slight smile back in reply. For all her life, the girl had never had such kindness. The older women in the brothel she was raised in was at best, curt and indifferent to her. At worst, they used her to vent their temper, and her mother stood aside, often just for a handful of coppers.

When they were sold to the magistrate's son, life was better at first. She was fed well, and none of the older prostitutes bothered her. That peace was broken quite soon. After a week, her mother went with the magistrate's son, and never returned. New people kept being added, while older ones disappeared.

After a month, she was taken to serve the magistrate's son as well. The pain she felt that day would forever be seared in her memories, as well as the depraved smile on the man's face when he choked her with both hands. She had wished for death to take her that day, yet it never came for her. She had not known why until much later.

The two years that followed that accursed day were full of days where pain and humiliation became her constant companion. The magistrate's son had became more inventive in his methods, and derived sick pleasure from her torment and pain. Some days he beat on her with his bare hands. Other days, he would stab her with blades that glowed red hot, and laughed uproariously when she screamed as the blade cooked her insides.

She had not said it to anyone so far, but she felt a cruel, perverse, feeling of pleasure in her heart when she watched how he was subjected to the thousand cuts. His every bawl and whimper sent a surge of satisfaction to her. The way he screamed when the horses tore him limb from limb, almost made her embarass herself before the imperial couple.

Those were subjects she'd keep a secret to her grave.

Ever since the Imperial couple had rescued her, everyone had treated her politely. She understood the meaning of the emperor's words. She also understood that it was her constitution that allowed her to survive the years of hellish torment.

She was a blood mage.

That meant a lot in Al-Shan, especially nowadays, with the Blood Demon's exploits known widely. Even in the brothel she heard tales told of her, a woman both respected greatly for her selfless courage, and equally feared for her ruthlessness. Some women in the brothel even invoked the moniker to make their children behave.

The very thought that she might one day even be a fraction as great was beyond the young girl's imagination. Her young mind however, realized that if she wanted to be of use to the emperor, to repay the life debt she owed for his kindness, to stay as she was now or used to be, wasn't an option.

As they dressed themselves after the bath, Ying braved herself and asked the empress if it were possible to receive an audience with the emperor. She expected rejection, and was surprised when Layla smiled and nodded, and directly brought her towards the emperor's personal study after they were dressed.

The austere yet tasteful decorations of the imperial palace - a shift that Xain had personally enforced once he was enthroned - flew past as Ying walked absent mindedly behind the empress. None of the palace's many guards accosted them, many even opened doors politely when they saw Layla approach.

They soon arrived before ornately decorated wooden double doors, and Ying straightened and smoothened her clothes nervously. She had worn the clothes given, a long sleeved clothing that hugged her body comfortable, the long dress cut by slits on both sides of the legs up to the waist, and simple trousers under it.

They were made of expensive, smooth, silk, and she had at first argued that surely she was not worthy of such luxury, until the empress basically forced them on her. Both she and the emperor had kindly, but forcefully reminded her that she should never view herself that way, ever again.

The door opened gently, and Samira's motherly face greeted them. She and Layla traded knowing looks at one another, then she bid them to enter the room. Ying walked past the doorway with trepidation and nervousness, yet she steeled her heart and solidified her resolve.

Before them sat the emperor behind a worn mahogany desk, a book still in his hands. The young emperor lifted his head and looked at Ying kindly, with some worry and expectation apparent in his youthful, noble mien.

"What brought you here, little Ying?" Asked the emperor kindly.

Ying steeled her resolve, and to some surprise from Layla, Samira, and the Emperor, she knelt on the ground, gave a respectful salute to the emperor, and looked him straight in the eye.

"Your Imperial Majesty," she said with a firm tone, or as firm a tone a nervous thirteen year old girl managed. "This subject wishes to be of use to the empire. This subject beseeches your majesty to forge this worthless subject into a blade for the empire!"

"Good resolve," said the emperor after a moment of silence. "Are you fully aware of what this would mean for you? This We ask you out of kindness. You still have the other option."

"This subject is aware," Ying said while she did her best so her voice had not wavered. "This subject swears to dedicate her life to the Emperor, for whatever purpose your majesty demands!"

"Understood," said the Emperor, as he now stood up from his seat. The atmosphere felt heavier somehow, for reasons Ying could not fathom. "Do you have a given name, Ying?"

"This subject had never been given a name, your majesty. I was my mother's third child, so she usually just referred to me as third," she explained, her voice obviously nervous.

"That is inappropriate," said the Emperor as Ying shivered with some dread. "It would be uncouth for a subject of the empire to not even have a proper name. From this day forth, I bestow you the name 'Xiao', for the firmament. May you hold the name with pride in your life."

"Now rise, Ying Xiao, Shadow of the Firmament, and let us discuss how you shall serve the Empire."