Ahn Mi-Nara, Punishment:

Time was a vague, fluid concept for Ahn Mi-Nara, an illustrious Prime and near-immortal divine artist.

She was only near-immortal because that was what she had been before being thrown into a prison tailor-made for her. And seeing that her physical body was locked away in a region unreachable by even gods, it was fair to say near-immortal was what she’d continue to be for quite some time.

And seeing as Nara was now only an ethereal projection floating around like some pretty kite, a very beautiful kite, she might add, what good did near-immortal mean anyway?

She tugged at the silk scarf draped over her shoulders and sighed. From atop the tallest pillar in the heavens-forsaken realm, she could see everything. Not that there was much to see. Another farm boy had wandered in, soon to be hunted down by her brute of a jailer.

Was it pity she felt for him? There must’ve been a time when he was a respected divine artist. Long before time had eroded his senses and mind. What karma must he have reaped for such a wretched fate? Had he taken on the burden by choice? By force? Questions that would never be answered because only the language of violence was left to his fragmented mind.

At the very least, Nara thought bitterly, I’m still sane. But that was the problem, wasn’t it? With only an impossibly bored mind to accompany her, she had spent thousands of years alone with nothing but the screams of unfortunate trespassers and warriors in over their heads. It would drive anyone mad. Anyone but me. And that was part of the punishment, she supposed.

Patriarch of the Kyu, Heirs:

Kyu Kaizen knew exactly when his life began to fall apart. It was when that idiot, music-addled Gaizo ran off. It had put ideas in Yunan’s impressionable mind. That was two heirs lost.

Sezha was a lost cause. He had a sharp mind, which was no doubt a trait inherited from Kaizen himself. But the boy was hopeless when it came to the Path. Not to mention his recent bouts of insanity. The poor boy had come to think it was his fault Yunan ran off. If Kaizen wanted any hope of expanding the clan large enough to consume the entirety of the Lowlands, he couldn’t place all his apples in a faulty basket.

As talented as Moji was, she was a girl. They had their uses, but representing clans was not one of them. How could the Kyus be taken seriously with a female at the helm? It would take only a few more years before she was ready to create an heir. But before that could happen, Kaizen knew he had to make the family strong. Strong enough to weather the coming storm. The voices had warned him. And after they burned it all to the ground, he would become the inheritor of a new world.

Kan, Hope:

Twenty moons since Taikim left.

How many moons had Taikim left Kan alone? She was getting lonely. It was fun at first. Kan could hunt all the rabbits she wanted. Silly Taikim couldn’t stop her. But now, the nights dragged out, and she was seeing things moving in the shadows again. Silly Taikim. Where had he gone?

Forty moons since Taikim left.

Taikim was right, Kan thought, burrowing into thick, woolen blankets. They were the only thing she had left of him. The villagers had found a way to con her out of everything else through underhanded deals. It wasn’t right what they did. But Taikim had warned her. She was stupid not to listen. Stupid, stupid, stupid Kan.