Kyu Estate - 4 years prior.

“Aren’t you the least bit curious?” Yunan asked. “It’s not like we’re children anymore.”

Sezha sighed and tore his eyes away from his textbook. “Exactly the reason why we shouldn’t be snooping around the shrine.”

“Where’s your sense of adventure?” Yunan crooned. “Are you really going to spend the whole day wasting away in a dusty old library?” He leaned up against one of the many shelves lining the wall, its wooden frame warped by the weight of its tomes. The Kyus prided themselves on their expansive collection of ancient writings and scrolls. “It’s not like studying every moment of your life is suddenly going to prepare you to be Father. Come on, just a quick peek, and we’ll be out in the blink of an eye.”

Sezha snapped his paperbound textbook shut. Of course, he wanted to see what was in the shrine. All of his siblings wanted to, most of all his younger brother, Yunan. However, unlike him, Sezha possessed something called restraint. Just a year ago, he would’ve jumped at the chance of discovering what lay behind those large golden doors, but he had outgrown such childish behavior.

“You used to be fun,” Yunan continued. “You may be the heir now. But that’s no excuse to turn into a prune.”

“That’s right,” Sezha snapped. “I’m the heir, which means I must uphold the family values. The Kyu Family Shrine is where the founder and our ancestors are buried. It’s a holy ground, not a playground for bored children.”

Yunan placed his hands on his hips. “Look at you! Just became heir and already talking like Father. It’s not like Gaizo is dead. When he comes back to Father on his knees, you’ll just be second son again.”

He’s right, a traitorous voice deep inside whispered. Gaizo often left the manor at irregular intervals to pursue his many useless hobbies. But he was always back for more silver. After a heated argument between their father and Gaizo, the first son was disowned and stripped of his name. But everyone knew Father had a secret soft spot for him. It was only a matter of time before he was back.

Sezha took a deep breath and steeled himself. I’m the heir now.

“Even if he comes back, Father disowned him,” he pointed out. “I’m the heir now, and even if you don’t like it, you’ll have to bear with it.”

“So what?” Yunan pushed off the shelf and lifted his chin out at him. “Even if you’re the heir, I’m still stronger than you.”

Sezha sighed again. Despite being the third eldest among the Kyu children at fourteen years, Yunan never acted his age. Much to Mother’s chagrin, he refused to get married. And Father—who doted on him to an impossible degree—refused to push Yunan any further beyond vague suggestions. Sezha was never afforded such freedom. He already had his engagement lined up and planned.

It was a shame since Yunan was the most talented of the Kyu children in following the Divine Path. He had formed his Vital Core a little over a year ago. An astonishing feat for the third son of a secular family. On the other hand, Sezha had not shown even the slightest inkling of talent on the Divine Path.

It wasn’t a stretch to call Sezha and his younger brother polar opposites. He was tall and ungainly, without a single athletic bone in his body. Running more than a single mile was enough to tire Sezha out, while Yunan could trek through the mountains for hours on end. Even the combat tutors had given up on trying to keep up with his pace. So, for what Sezha lacked in physical prowess, he swore to make up in intellectual capability. As the new heir to the Kyu Family, he had to prove he was up to the task of leading. Even if it wasn’t at the vanguard of an army.

The manor servants liked to whisper in their idle time that if Yunan had been born first, he would’ve led the Kyu Family to heights never reached before. It still stung every time he heard it passing through the servant’s quarters. But it wasn’t like he could punish them for idle gossip. He didn’t want to be that sort of man. Not like Grandfather was.

“Father’s gone for his trip, and it’s not like Mother ever cares about what we’re up to.” Yunan grinned mischievously at him. “Or should I just ask Moji to come with me?”

Sezha groaned. The last thing he wanted was Moji getting wrapped up in his frivolous nonsense. “Fine, if you’re so desperate to do something, we’ll go. But only to the outer sanctum. Promise me.”

Yunan sniffed. “That’s fine, I suppose.”

“Promise me,” he repeated, rising to his feet with the textbook buried in his arms. “We won’t go until you swear we’re stopping at the outer sanctum.”

Yunan nodded eagerly, slipping out of the library with uncontained energy to his steps. Sezha followed after him, although not nearly as excited-like.

As Yunan led the way through the halls of the Kyu Manor, Sezha did his best to ignore his growing sense of unease.

It’s only to the outer sanctum. Father will never know. And Yunan would never tell him, would he?

“Where do you think you two are going?” a voice demanded as the pair came upon the servant’s access door. They had decided it was best to not let their siblings know what they were up to. But they had failed. That voice was all too familiar to Sezha. Kyu Moji.

A young girl in sky-blue silk robes sauntered up to them, her pretty face free of any blemishes or flaws. She was the prodigious daughter of the Kyu Family, second only to Yunan, Kyu Moji. In any other generation, Moji would’ve been considered a once-in-a-generation talent. But compared to the physical prowess of Yunan and the intellectual capability of Sezha, Moji always fell a little short.

“We’re just taking a break from studying,” Yunan answered casually. “So, we’re going on a stroll.”

Moji raised a thin brow. “Studying? You?”

Yunan coughed into his hand, his cheeks reddening. “Well, not me. Sezha was studying. I was just-”

“Don’t you have something to be doing?” Sezha interrupted. “Does the tutor know you’re just loitering around?”

“I’m only taking a break,” Moji protested.

“Listen to your older brother,” Yunan said, giving Moji’s shoulder a firm pat. “We’ll catch you later.”

Moji’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, you’re right,” she muttered, glancing down at Yunan’s hand on her shoulder. “I should get back to training.”

Sezha and Yunan waited till Moji was well out of sight before making their way outside. It was chilly. Having left with nothing but a single layer of thin robes, Sezha wished he had brought an overcoat with him, or at least a blanket.

The shrine was at the very back of the courtyard, hidden behind a ring of Dawnfrond trees. Despite seldom seeing visitors, a servant would always make sure to sweep the shrine grounds at least once a week. Of course, they were never permitted to enter the actual shrine itself.

Yunan pushed open the large double doors with a gentle nudge. It was hard not to feel jealous of him at times. Sezha would’ve had to strain with his entire might.

“Well, this isn’t what I was expecting,” Yunan muttered, glancing around the lavishly decorated hall they found themselves in. Rugs with archaic patterns covered the floor, and a collection of paintings, sculptures, and relics on pedestals lined the walls. The interior architecture wasn’t much different from the main manor, except everything was coated in a thick layer of dust.

Odd, Sezha thought. The Kyus were a wealthy family, and naturally their ancestral shrine was extravagant, but something was off with the shrine. He could recognize some of the relics from fabled stories and legends.

“That’s the teapot of the infamous warlord Peerless. Why would it be here?” Sezha mused, his brows creasing in thought.

Yunan shrugged. “Maybe it’s a fake,” he said, hurrying on ahead. “But who cares? Let’s go explore!”

Sezha followed after him, frowning. “Then, why would it be in our shrine? This isn’t strange to you at all?”

This doesn’t make any sense. That’s the blade of Lion Lihan, or perhaps a replica? Unlike Sezha, Yunan seemed to find it perfectly normal that treasures from all four corners of the world were scattered throughout their ancestral shrine.

The two rounded a corner and came upon a set of silver doors flanked by two pillars of dark, marbled stone.

“I think we’ve explored enough,” Sezha said, taking a step back.

“You’re kidding? We just got to the good part.” Yunan crept closer to the doors. “Just one peek, and we’ll be gone.”

Sezha reached out with his hand. “Stop-”

The doors blew open, black smoke billowing out, smothering Sezha. He stuck his hands out in front of him. Faces formed from the smoke, beautiful yet lifeless, flew around him, chanting in a foul guttural language. Although Sezha didn’t understand what they were saying, he knew it was anything but good. Sezha tried to call to his brother, but dark smoke filled his lungs. Yunan, I need you!

A giant figure took shape from the smoke. It towered above Sezha, staring down at him with deep red eyes that radiated scorching heat.

Child of fate, it rumbled. Bring me the Heart of a Paragon.

He stumbled backward, landing on his rear. Words refused to form at his mouth—he could only look up, helpless and fearful for his life.

Free me, and I will return what you hold dear.

“What are you?” Sezha managed to force out.

Bring me the Heart of a Paragon, the figure repeated. And, in time, all shall be revealed.

Then as suddenly as the smoke appeared, it began to vanish back through the doorway. Slowly, the dark figure dissipated into thin air. But Sezha couldn’t shake the feeling that the terrible red eyes were still watching him.

Sezha wiped away the tears from his eyes. “Yunan?”

His brother was gone.