Main hall, City Lord’s Palace of Fei Shu City, Xiao Weili Prefecture, Xing Nation, Gui Empire:

Fenghuang Da paced across the worn wooden floor with a scowl on his bearded face. One particularly sharp turn caused the marbled red seams of his otherwise black hanfu to whip out and then stream behind him, fluttering about his legs. Out of his left eye, he saw a single long black hair that had escaped from his topknot. It bothered him that it exposed a sign of imperfection in the otherwise refined clan leader’s visage he allowed the public to see. As the lord of the city and Patriarch of the city’s strongest clan, he felt he should show no weakness. Even at a moment such as this.

“What could be taking so long?” His clenched fists and stomping gait revealed his agitation, despite his best efforts.

“Brother, be calm,” pled Fenghuang Gen. Da’s middle brother continued to enjoy meals more than physical training, so he was thicker around the middle than cultivators who focused on combat. But as a healer, it was not unexpected. Most of them behaved that way. He wore a green qipao with blue vines adorning the chest and cuffs. Still, his gentle appearance did not lessen the power and prestige he wielded as a powerful master of his craft.

Gen raised his hands in an appeasing gesture and spoke again. “These things take time. There is nothing you can do.”

A laugh sounded in response to the comment. Da looked over at Fenghuang Zhao. His youngest brother leaned against a nearby pillar, his hands crossed over his chest. Still young by cultivator standards, he was shorter and thinner than both his elder brothers. Dressed in a black qipao highlighted by silver clouds, he laughed again and clapped his hands to his thighs.

In a mocking, but not unkind, tone he said, “My dear eldest and fiercest brother, general of the mighty Xing Army, esteemed Patriarch of the Fenghuang Clan, bringer of peace to the Xiao Weili prefecture and mightiest cultivator for a hundred thousand li in any direction, finally brought low by the birth of a child. And not even your first.”

More teasing laughter from Zhao and even a few chuckles from Gen followed this statement. Da finally paused his march to turn swiftly and glare at his most irritating brother.

“If you ever loved a woman, Zhao, you might be lucky enough to worry for her as I do my Meixiu and her sister-wives.” Da returned to his pacing with even more fervor than before, each echoing step causing the ether lamps hanging throughout the palace room to sway and the light to shimmer against the gold and silver designs. Fenghuang Da didn’t care. Let them fall, he thought to himself.

Zhao offered a sly smile and responded cheekily, “Brother, I love many women. And often.”

Da huffed and shook his head but ceased his pacing.

Gen stepped up to Da and said, “Zhao, boorish as he is, is correct. At least in that you must calm yourself.”

He held up his right hand and it glowed for a moment, illuminating the room with the color of the forest. A green square with black writing and a blue border on it appeared before him. “Do you see, brother?”

Name: Da

Clan: Fenghuang

Clan Rank: Patriarch

Qi Type: Aura

Qi Affinity: Fire, Metal

Cultivation Stage: {Blocked}

Status: Agitated, elevated heart rate

Health Assessment: Lack of Qi control may result in harm to self, nearby individuals, or objects and structures.

Fenghuang Da glanced at it, waved his arm dismissively, and huffed again. “I do not require your insight, Gen. If I lost control, this—”

His statement was interrupted by the howling cry of a baby.

One of his second wife’s maids approached with her head lowered, carrying a bundle of crying newborn. Seeing his child for the first time, the clan chief summoned his Qi and rushed to the woman.

He knew it would appear as though he had vanished and reappeared in less than the time it took to blink an eye, but he did not care at that moment. And it suited his purposes anyway.

Da let go of the Qi of the Heavens and Earth as he stopped in front of the meek woman. She lowered herself to her knees, still holding the child.

“Speak!” he bellowed, anxious to hear of his second wife’s condition. The child’s crying immediately ceased upon hearing the echoing roar.

The servant’s timid, shaky voice was low but heard by all in the silence. “My lord. Your lady wife is well and is expected to return to full health in a day or less. I have been ordered to present to you your young daughter, Fenghuang Yu.”

Da restrained himself from raising his voice again. Losing control of his emotions like that was unbecoming of a leader, especially before a mortal.

In a much softer but no less commanding tone, Da ordered, “Stand and hand my child to me.”

The terrified woman rose slowly and then extended her arms, which held the pink-skinned child bundled in wool and violet silk.

Da knew his reputation. In fact, he worked hard to maintain the fear that most in this country had of him. In a world where power was the only true currency, fear was a commodity of incalculable value.

Da reached under and lifted his youngest child. Despite this being his fifth child, it still amazed him how small and vulnerable they were. His scarred warrior’s hands dwarfed the small swaddled form. He turned, ignoring the woman as she bowed low and backed out of the room. With as much gentleness as possible, he pulled down the cloth with a finger so that he could gaze upon the face of his only daughter.

Da felt his two brothers appear on either side of his shoulders and stare down at the tiny form. Gen reached his hand out and held it over the child.

It glowed green and he said, “She is healthy. Obviously I can tell no more until she is tested at the stone in ten days. She barely made it in time.”

Despite being the most talented healer of his generation in the nation, not even Gen had the ability to use the God Sign to assess a human until they had first been declared by the gods.

“She’s so small and wrinkly,” muttered Zhao, his face alight with both awe and bewilderment.

Not taking his eyes off his daughter, Da heard Gen chuckle lightly behind him. “She is a baby, brother. You looked much the same when you showed. I remember.”

The younger of Da’s two brothers had been born one hundred and seventy-two years after Gen, making him the baby of the family. This of course meant he had been spoiled rotten and had thus developed a blasé attitude toward the future and his responsibilities. That did not mean he was weak or timid or unable to fight. In fact, he served a critical purpose for the family with his Darkness affinity Qi. Da was thankful for the abilities of both his middle and younger brother. The clan would be far less without them.

Gen continued his description of Zhao’s birth. “But you cried more and smelled much worse than this little gem. Yu…” Then in more of a whisper, “Jade indeed.”

Da straightened and turned his head to look at his brother in surprise. “You know the translation, then? It is obscure, even for the ancient tongue.”

Gen shrugged and said blandly, “Don’t pretend that isn’t why you and Meixiu picked the name, or that you won’t make your daughter study it just as hard as we had to. It’s a tradition in our family that you have kept with your other children. It is a shame that most families name their offspring with little thought for the old translations. In fact, few remember much of the ancient tongue at all. Except us. Although this one did take me some time digging in the scrolls. Only you and Meixiu would choose such an auspicious name.”

“True,” Da responded, with a nod. Then he turned back to his tiny daughter and, with the gravity of a Patriarch, shook his head and said, “Either way, our clan will benefit from her, as we do from all Fenghuang children. If she can cultivate, then she will become an Aura-, Mana- or Ether-wielder, adding power to our forces. Knowing her mother and myself, she will likely be a power to rival the three of us.”

Fenghuang Gen asked, “And if she cannot?”

“She will be valued and will eventually allow us to arrange an alliance through marriage. The clan must always come first.”

***

Ten days later, the one hundred and three most senior members of the Fenghuang Clan stood in a ceremonial room large enough to fit one hundred and fifty comfortably. Its red walls were adorned with large birds in flight, each plumed in a single color of the rainbow, except for a few black, white, silver, and gold birds shown sporadically in between.

The decadence was not something Da personally appreciated, but it was necessary to show the clan’s prestige. Oftentimes a show of wealth was as effective as a show of physical strength.

Sitting at the front of the room on a raised dais, he allowed a little of his power to leak out, knowing they would feel the pressure. It would… encourage all to remember he was the Patriarch. Not that his position was easily mistakable. His seat of rank was a tall ornate chair of dark wood with a carved phoenix, its wings spread in flight, cresting just over his head.

To his left and right and slightly behind sat two similar but smaller and less ornate chairs. On the left was Caretaker Bo. The old man was rubbing his long white beard and laughing lightly as he spoke to an obese middle-aged man who was also chuckling, each laugh causing his bulging stomach to bounce under his blue qipao.

To the Patriarch’s right was a stunningly beautiful woman in a violet hanfu, her hair long and purple like the silk wrapped around her, but worn up in ornate curls held at the top by a pair of long crossed silver rods. Meixiu’s head was tilted as she listened to a young woman whispering in her ear. Her beauty still captivated Da, even after more than a century. She was also the only one of his wives permitted to be present, the other two being neither clan elders nor strong enough in their cultivation.

Da sat with no expression on his face, as was proper for one of his position, simply watching his clan’s various factions building alliances or enmity as they willed. He would not lower himself to get involved in such drivel unless the clan was put at risk. And they all knew better than to get the clan chief involved – that almost always resulted in both sides losing face and power. And sometimes blood.

A child snuck his way around the outside of the room, staying low and silent. Da’s eyes flicked to the child, but he made no other motion, despite his desire to grin at his precocious second son. That boy’s affinity was strong and rare, like his uncles’ – he would make a great warrior for the clan one day. Perhaps even his heir. There was no harm in him watching the ceremony. Which reminded Da…

With a glance around the room, he watched as his clan members’ calm conversations began to slow and emotions began to rise. None had eaten or drunk anything since the sunrise of the previous day as a supplication to the gods. That rule was not technically required to be followed for the ceremony, but it had become a tradition to the point of causing a significant loss of face to anyone who might breach it.

Allowing just a bit more of his power to spill out, Da stood and the room slowly became silent.

“Welcome to the Declaration Ceremony of our newest additions,” he intoned. “As is the tradition of the Fenghuang Clan, we hold this ceremony on the shortest and longest days of the year, as then we are closest to the gods who grant us our God Sign and the gifts of Qi and cultivation.”

Every person in the room – save the two seated to his left and right – bowed their head and spoke in unison, “Clan chief.”

His second wife and mother to his only daughter, Long Meixiu, stood and called out in a captivating voice that resounded through the room, “Bring the Eye.”

The red-painted double doors at the other end of the hall opened and four trusted family guards, strong cultivators all, entered carrying a table made of the same dark wood as the Patriarch’s throne. The table appeared to be simple, with slats and four legs; but upon its top, numerous circles and swirls were carved. These were runes and designs that only the greatest of Ether-wielders could understand or create.

Atop the table were eleven items: ten were perfectly distributed in a circle around the eleventh, and were of similar size and shape but different colors. Each was a beast core, a concentrated form of untamed Qi taken from the corpse of a demonic beast. They were of different affinities, and partially pressed into the enchanted wood. The affinities were Fire, Earth, Water, Wind, Metal, Ice, Wood, Lightning, Light, and Darkness. There were more affinities in the world, but cores of those were nearly impossible to acquire.

The final item, placed in the center of the circle of cores, was a tripod made from a single piece of nearly black steel, its legs also covered in mysterious runes and whirling designs. Where the three legs met at the top was a perfect circle of steel, within which an equally flawless, clear crystal was inlaid. At one handspan across and three tall, the crystal showed the perfect symmetry of two stretched pyramids stacked upon each other.

The crystal’s clarity was immaculate, but a rainbow of swirling colors appeared to be swimming within it, almost alive.

No matter how many times he had seen it, Da still marveled at the sight of the Eye of the Gods, the complex creation that could peer into the truth of humans. Of course, he did not let that show.

Others were not so restrained. Every single one of the strongest cultivators of the Fenghuang Clan watched as the most valuable object in the clan’s possession was brought before them. Some gawked. Others showed reverence. And a few even showed greed. Da mentally marked the latter down in his mind and decided he would have Zhao watch them.

Not that the reactions were a surprise. The Eye’s value would be enough to buy the entire city of Fei Shu and every clan in it. It was gifted to the Fenghuang Clan many generations ago for services rendered to the kingdom and his majesty, the king at the time, through saving him and his family from the deadly demonic beasts that rule the wild lands of the Xing Nation.

The guards placed the table which held the crystal on a spot marked on the stone floor in the exact middle of the room, then turned their backs to it and stood guard. After standing at attention, they then removed their sabers from their back scabbards and stood ready to protect the clan’s most valuable asset.

Caretaker Bo stood. “Bring the children!” he called loudly through a wrinkled smile.

A stream of nineteen women in identical white hanfu with a single small flaming bird stitched into the top right of their fronts stepped in from an ornately painted archway to the left, each holding a child. The last walked to Da’s second wife and handed Meixiu their daughter.

Da and Meixiu had first met on the battlefield and had nearly ended each other in a fierce and chaotic battle before realizing they were fighting on the same side. Recognizing each other’s strength, they became sparring partners, friends, and, not long after, lovers. After many years of this, she agreed to become his wife, and, years later, they had their first child together. It had only been a few days prior that their Jade Phoenix, Fenghuang Yu, had joined their family and clan.

Da watched impassively as the nineteen mothers created a crescent-shaped line four paces from the table. Meixiu stepped beside the last woman, creating a striking contrast with her purple against the white of the others. The sounds of shuffling and whispers started to pick up in the background as the women formed up. Da watched the room carefully, observing which clan members smiled at, sneered at, greeted or derided which of the women. He found none foolish enough to act that way toward his own wife and daughter, though. At least not in his presence.

Da called, “Caretaker Bo, are your charges prepared?” (As the individual responsible for the children’s supervision, education, and preparation, Elder Bo received a unique title in the clan, “Caretaker.”)

The smiling old man bowed his head and said, “They are prepared, clan chief.”

Da then looked upward toward one of the two round windows near the roof of the building, and all heads in the room followed. A few moments later, streams of sunlight filtered through the glass and made contact with the crystal. It glowed gold, a color representing the only affinity no human could wield: heavenly power.

The room fell silent and stayed like that for thirty breaths until the sunlight passed, and the golden glow was absorbed into the center of the crystal. Then, like golden fluid, it flowed down the runes on the circlet holding it, then down the legs of the steel tripod, and downward again.

When the gold faded from the steel, the tabletop flared with light, and all the runes and designs glowed. It was so bright that many of the weaker cultivators in the room had to turn away or squint.

Da did not even twitch, standing like a statue. With so many eyes upon him, he would show no weakness, even at such a display of power. When the glow faded, only the beast cores’ subtle radiance reminded those present of the power of the device before them.

The Caretaker turned toward the first woman in white and said in a gentle tone, “Fenghuang Chen, approach.”

As was tradition, he was speaking to the woman but stating the name of the baby in her arms.

She walked forward to the table and stopped before the guards. “I ask leave to near the Eye of the Gods so my child’s future may be determined.”

The guards took a single step to the side and the woman walked to the table. She placed her son, Fenghuang Chen, inside the tripod and directly under the large crystal. She then took one step back. The room was silent except for the sound of the cultivators breathing in anticipation.

Nothing happened for just short of a minute until the crystal in the middle flashed black once, and then the beast core to the right of the baby’s tiny head glowed noticeably brighter and then dimmed.

Caretaker Bo turned to Da and said, “Clan chief, the gods have smiled upon the Fenghuang Clan. A new Fire Warrior is born.”

Giving the emotionless response expected of him, Da nodded once. As for those present, the clan’s elders applauded politely, pleased but not impressed.

The core had lit up only dimly, showing what would be a slightly below-average affinity strength.

To conclude the child’s Determination Ceremony, Fenghuang Da said, “Show this child’s God Sign.”

Elder Bo touched the glowing red crystal and the baby’s God Sign appeared in deep red with white writing for all to bear witness.

Name: Chen

Clan: Fenghuang

Clan Rank: None

Qi Type: Aura

Qi Affinity: Fire

Cultivation Stage: None

Status: None

There was much more to a cultivator’s God Sign, but only this broad information would be shared publicly. One’s personal information was only shared with those one trusted absolutely. To do otherwise put the cultivator at risk.

Chen’s mother stepped forward with a broad smile, picked up her son, and walked to the other side of the room. She stood in one of the designated places for future clan cultivators.

This process was repeated with the next woman and baby. However, this time there was no flash nor change of brightness of any of the beast cores. Unlike the previous applause, there was disappointed muttering and head-shaking.

Elder Bo said, “Clan chief, this child cannot form a dantian and will not cultivate.”

That meant the child would not be able to form the organ that holds Qi.

As expected, Da thought to himself. He knew that branch family, and they had produced no cultivators in more than five centuries. Thus, the family would gain no prestige from this child. He would become a mundane member of their society and add value to the clan as an ordinary laborer.

Of course, he did not allow any emotion to cross his face as he again nodded once. The downtrodden mother took her child and walked to a separate area of the room, away from the rest.

The process proceeded as usual for the subsequent six children. Three were average Aura cultivators of Fire, Fire, and Earth affinity respectively, the most common in this prefecture. The other three were not able to cultivate.

The next child caused something of a stir when the center crystal flashed white instead of black, and the black beast core glowed brightly. It actually sucked the light from around it, causing it to appear lighter, but that is semantics.

The Caretaker spoke excitedly when he called out, “Clan chief, the gods have truly smiled upon the Fenghuang Clan today. A new Darkness Mage is born.”

Raucous applause broke out in the room. Da mentally rolled his eyes as a whoop came from his little brother. While nearly everyone in the room was cheering because they saw a Mage and a rare affinity, Da knew better. Zhao would have the twenty-third member of his small intelligence and assassination squad in just a handful of years.

The Shadow Phoenixes, as he called them, were one of the Fenghuang Clan’s best-kept secrets. Few knew that this small squad was one of the key reasons the clan had stayed strong and grown in power and reputation over the generations.

The clan Patriarch from four generations ago had initiated the program and begun arranging for the gathering and breeding of Darkness affinity family members. The clan was usually able to create one every thirty or so years, which was stunning considering the rarity of cultivators of that affinity.

On the other hand, that cultivators of even moderate strength could live to nearly a thousand years of age made breeding for specific desired traits plausible – if controlled and encouraged properly, at least. That lifetime might seem like a lot of opportunity to mortals, but cultivators tended not to reproduce often unless they were of an excessively wealthy noble status. This was due to the outrageous amount of resources required to raise a strong cultivator. It was generally a better investment to put more resources toward fewer cultivators – or even a single one – than spread resources among many, so that each had less.

Returning his mind to the matter at hand, Da started planning how to manage this child’s potential value to the clan. It would be many years before he could defend himself. Until then, he would need resources, training, and, most importantly, protection. At least until he could use Qi outside his body, which usually happened between the ages of eighteen and twenty-two. It was rare, but cultivation geniuses could actually start using external Qi a year or two earlier.

Obviously, the earlier, the better because that offered the children more time to perfect their bodies as they grew. This was a superior option to changing them after they had already developed, which was arduous, exceedingly resource-intensive, and much of the time painful.

Fenghuang Cho’s black God Sign and white writing confirmed that his clan had another powerful asset on the rise.

Name: Cho

Clan: Fenghuang

Clan Rank: None

Qi Type: Mana

Qi Affinity: Darkness

Cultivation Stage: None

Status: None

By the end, Da was pleased that it had turned out to be a good harvest for the Fenghuang Clan that cycle. As he waited for his daughter's turn, he saw that all the remaining girls and boys would become cultivators of one type or another.

There was even another Wood affinity healer, which excited Gen. She would be a valuable asset as well. Healer Mages with Wood or Water affinity were rare in their city, although less so than those with Darkness. Of those that did attain a healer’s affinity, almost none had both Water and Wood – Gen was nearly unique in that respect. Da was almost positive no other in Xing Nation had them both.

As expected, none of the children would be able to wield Ether. Ether-wielders were the rarest of all cultivators and were usually sent to various sects or colleges for specific training immediately upon being able to process sufficient Qi in their bodies to open meridians.

Interrupting his musings, Da watched as Fenghuang Yu was finally brought forth by Meixiu. The room was filled with a murmuring of the expectation that had been placed on the tiny shoulders of the only child of the two strongest cultivators in the city.

It was widely known that potential was passed down. When two powerful parents had a child, the child was almost always as strong or stronger than those who created them. Da and Meixiu had discussed this at length in the days prior to the ceremony. Together they had decided how to treat the child in the case of her either having good cultivation talent or none.

Da watched as his beautiful and brilliant second wife placed their daughter on the table the same as the others and took a step back. Nothing happened for a moment, but then a yell was heard from outside which was loud enough to be audible through the thick wooden walls and doors. Da and the others in the room all turned toward that sound with disapproving looks. Everyone knew not to disturb the Declaration Ceremony.

Immediately after the first yell dissipated, another followed. And then another. Then there was a booming sound, and the entire building shook with the vibrations of it. Then came another, and this time the earth lifted and slammed down beneath their feet. All but the strongest cultivators lost their footing and ended up on either their knees or backsides.

“Yu!”

Da turned with a start to see his wife lunging toward their child, who had blood oozing from a wound somewhere. The guards were still mostly steady on their feet and doing their job, securing the Eye of the Gods so that it would come to no harm. They extended hidden flaps from under the table and began to close it just as Meixiu grabbed her daughter before running to her husband.

“Is she all right?” Da asked quickly.

“She is unconscious but alive,” Meixiu replied. “I will bring her to the healers and we will know more. You must go.”

She gently kissed his cheek and began a steady run to the healers’ area of the city lord’s estate, followed closely by Gen.

A palace guard, bleeding profusely from an arm which Da saw was mostly missing, pushed open the door with his other shoulder, tumbled in and weakly said, “Under attack.” He then fell over, never to move again.

The vibrating sound of an explosion echoed throughout the shaking building as the guards staggered slightly but continued to secure the precious device. Without an Eye of the Gods, the Fenghuang Clan would have to use another larger clan’s or bring their clan members to a public ceremony supported by the empire instead. This would be deadly – exposing so many new cultivators to the public every year would put a target on them all. Their clan’s true strength was known only to a few inside or outside the clan, and Da wished to keep it that way.

He watched the guards as they concluded the sealing process, letting out a sigh of relief as the flash of the Ether enchantments took hold. He knew it would require someone much more powerful than him to break the protections on the table.

His body burst into flame as he ordered, “Secure it and continue your duty,” and then strode past the guards into whatever battle awaited him outside.

***

Bo Fang stood perfectly erect in the dim clan audience hall. He had been the Matriarch’s personal guard for nearly two centuries. She had saved him as a youth, and in exchange, he had sworn his body, Qi, and soul to her service until he died. Over that time, he had watched as she led her already dominant clan to even greater heights of might and wealth.

Her powers were strange, yet their effectiveness was undeniable. Fang had witnessed her give seemingly random orders that resulted in the ruin of individuals, families – even entire clans. She would deliver nonsensical commands which would result in the devastation of reputations. And just as casually, she would release information nobody could possibly know, resulting in the deaths of thousands.

Only one hundred and twenty years ago, he had delivered a missive with nearly a million silver to a small unknown clan. It had seemed innocuous enough, but had resulted in the clan’s rise to power. That clan had dominated their province until, forty-five years ago, another letter with almost as much silver was sent to a different clan, resulting in a bloody war. Both clans had been almost mutually annihilated when a third had come along and exploited their war-weakened states.

Bo Fang later witnessed the Matriarch speaking to one of her mysterious agents about that event. “The boy is dead, as you intended,” the spy had said.

His Matriarch had nodded and responded, “Fine. It’s a shame about the investment in those clans, but that child would have been a significant threat, so it was worth the loss.”

Despite it all, he had rarely seen her show much interest or emotion regarding her own actions. She didn’t seem to find any particular joy in victories, nor anger at whatever behavior led to the actions she took. Occasionally the family would cause her consternation, but beyond some minor annoyance, he had not seen his Matriarch show much beyond minor satisfaction.

That was until ten days ago. He still shivered at the memory of it. The entire palace had shaken from her power and rage.

He had been eating in one of the large clan dining halls when they had felt it. Whether cultivator or mundane, guard or servant, noble or peasant, every single living being had fallen to their knees. The world itself had seemed to fear her terrible power as reality bent and stretched around the palace.

However long he lived, Bo Fang would never forget the scene he had witnessed when he had finally arrived at his mistress’s chambers. Her face had been filled with such fury that the fear had almost stopped him from noticing the two irregular lines of blood that traced down from the corners of her eyes onto her cheeks.

Cultivators and servants had been bowing and scrambling to follow the orders she was yelling at them. She had turned her head to Fang and had ordered him to retrieve scrolls from the archive of a sect in the Gui Empire. She had handed him a rolled parchment and a round jade badge with the symbol of a dragon carved into it. Additionally, his Matriarch had given him a set of orders about whom to speak to, and when, and about what to say at what point. Everything had been detailed out in precision and, as always, he had followed her orders precisely and without question.

He was watching his mistress read one of those scrolls now in the large central clan audience chamber as he stood guard, ten days after that terrible event. Suddenly, and for no reason he could identify, she closed her light-brown eyes. Her long silver hair slowly rose and floated away from her pale, wrinkled face and the white silk shawl embroidered with silver characters draped over her shoulders.

She showed no outward change as her eyes opened and her hair fell. She called out “Let them in” to the pair of guards standing in front of the ornate black-painted bamboo doors. Bo Fang watched how the embedded ornate silver swirls glittered in the dim room when the double doors, twice as tall as a man, swung inward.

Two cultivators of such power that he felt pressure simply from being in their presence approached his guard position. He glanced at his mistress and she waved him away. As instructed, he turned and took one full step backward, into the deeper shadows of the audience chamber.

The male and female were nearly alike, with their long dark hair in matching brown ponytails. They were both covered from top to bottom in wrapped black cloth so that only their nostrils, mouths, and deep brown eyes could be seen. They lowered themselves to their knees in front of her and pressed their foreheads to the floor slowly.

The Matriarch looked down upon them from her raised dais and said nothing. The female cultivator then spoke in a high-pitched voice that surprised Fang with its youthful sound. “It is done, Matriarch.”

“You followed my instructions?” the old woman asked.

The male responded this time. “Exactly as you ordered.”

“Good.”

Fang’s mistress actually smiled for a brief moment before her face returned to its usual stoic countenance. She closed her eyes and once again the world seemed to waver and bend, although this time nobody could feel the pressure.

It was over as suddenly as it had started, and she nodded.

“Good,” the old woman repeated. “It is critical that child be ruined but not dead. She has a part to play. I will call on you occasionally to go back there. As that foolish boy says, there are many strings still to be plucked, and we must do so at the right time and in the right way. You may go for now.”

Without looking at the Matriarch, the pair rose to their feet and left the hall. When the doors closed behind them, the old woman returned to the scrolls. She looked down at them intently and muttered two sentences. Bo Fang didn’t know if he was supposed to hear them or not – it was impossible to tell with his mistress. Either way, he did.

And they terrified him.