Daughter…

Daughter of Shadows…daughter of Me…

Who…? Yue thought sleepily, the familiar feminine whispers a distant echo in her dreams.

Ning Yue…You are afraid of Me…of who I might be, of what I might represent in your society of class and superstitions…Yet you draw on My power, child, use My gifts as easily as you draw breath.

What…gifts? Yue felt her dream-self rise from her prone position, rising to a semi-conscious state of awareness, wariness churning in her gut.

Let Me show you…

Show me…? A moment of all-consuming darkness engulfed Yue…

…and she was tumbling from high above, through dense layers of pitch dark clouds and opaque mist. Yue felt a scream build within her, her hands grasping for purchase on any surface. Her hands grabbed at vapor, but she realized the futility of her efforts in this dream world even as the cold of winter failed to penetrate her night robes. Surrendering to the dream-fall, she watched as a familiar landscape came into view below.

A circular pond. A curving row of lilac and peony bushes. A cluster of golden weeping willows.

Two figures stood facing off in the middle of the Imperial Villa’s garden, one with a dark face cover paralyzed by his opponent, the other in midnight and gold robes with his right hand outstretched.

Yue felt her descent slow, her dream-self hovering just above the scene.

“Who are you? Which house do you serve?”

A hard shake from the prince rattling the assassin, and the beginning spark of flames above. Yue glanced around, searching for herself. She will rescue the prince, she knew she did. But where was she? Staring hard at a stone lamp a distance away, there was no one there. The only markers of her presence during the attack were patches of disturbed grass and the occasional out-of-place stepping stone.

The ball of flames above the prince grew and grew, and Yue’s dream-self felt a sudden great tug. Landing hard beside the stone lamp in her memory, she looked up in time to see Prince Yin Long register death above him. Yue reached out to him, expecting to appear beside him at any moment, but as she waited, she watched as the fiery comet slam into her friend. First his raven dark hair, his handsome face, then his broad shoulders, and uptilted gold-tipped boots disappeared behind a wall of red hot flames. She smelled charred hair, clothes, grass…and flesh. Prince Yin Long held his arms up to shield his head, his scream of pain echoing into the still night. She tried to run to him but her feet were firmly rooted to the ground, wisps of smoke and shadow curling around her ankles. The acrid smell of burnt flesh coated the back of her throat. She kneeled beside the stone lamp and retched.

There was no bile that came from her efforts to dislodge the taste in her dream. The smell was so real, the sight of the prince’s pink and melted skin seared vividly in her mind, his screams her personal torment.

The crazy lady is just playing with my mind. She is clearly one of the mischievous lesser deities of the old legends, playing tricks with my mind to break my heart threads, Yue thought feverishly, using reason to calm her racing heart. All she needed to do was wake from this terrible dream. Lesser deities should not have the power to hold her against her will.

Oh, dear child, do you not see? You require My gift to protect the people around you…Do not reject My will any longer…

I do not require any gifts from nefarious, lesser Weavers, Yue thought as she searched for a way to wake herself. She remembered all the times Kelia would unleash an affectionate hound on Kerk whenever he overslept for class, the hound’s unceremonious pounce on the sleeping boy a fail-safe method to wake him up. She needed a jolt, and a hard one to ensure the dream-jolt resonated with her material self. The chill of the stone lamp through her palms gave her an idea.

Yue’s hesitation lasted a second. She sucked in a deep breath, shut her eyes tight and rammed her head against the rough-hewn river stone. She braced herself for the paralyzing impact.

As her forehead neared the lamp, Yue experienced a moment of vertigo, her entire body flung high into the atmosphere. Heart in her throat a second time, she looked around for the lesser deity toying with her.

“Where are you? Show yourself! Only a coward hides behind mist and illusion,” Yue shouted, channeling her father’s assertiveness whenever he approached a misbehaving beast.

A coward…? A high-pitched, grating laughter, the lesser Weaver’s amusement apparent. Strong words for a little girl…

Above Yue, the crescent shone bright with the brilliance of a cloudless night sky. The moon’s image wavered, red bleeding in at the edges and a woman’s mirage shimmered behind, the smiling crescent now the grotesque grin of one of the most beautiful woman Yue has ever seen.

Fairer than any concubine, the lesser Weaver’s face was backlit by an inner glow. Her tilted eyes were closed, but Yue imagined they would be large when opened. Her nose had an elegant, straight profile, slender with a dainty point. The red of her smile and long, flowing obsidian waterfall of hair accentuated her snow white countenance, the grey of her fluttering gown evoking images of storm clouds gathering on the horizon of a choppy sea. Yue have never heard of a night deity apart from Molthear, the moon Weaver, son of the Great Mother Weaver. The woman in front of her was a mystery, the edge in her smile discomfiting.

“Who…are you?” Uncertainty in her tone, Yue asked while her dream-self hovered weightlessly.

Oh, dear child…be careful what you wish for…My true nature is not something any mortal can witness and walk away from…not with their sanity intact…

The Weaver behind the moon continued to respond in her mind, her mouth still and smiling in front of her. The lesser Weaver’s head tilted unnaturally to the side, her grin getting wider.

Since your presence has amused me, I shall let you have a rare glimpse of My Weaving…pray your mind does not break permanently…

The Weaver behind the moon laughed, her mouth opening impossibly wider. Her flowing hair and gown fluttered faster, disturbed by winds that arose and buffeted the night sky. The howling winds tore through Yue as she raised her arms to shield herself. As she fought the onslaught, globular masses of dark matter oozed from the mysterious deity’s gaping smile. Thick and viscous, it pulsed to the tempo of the winds. The mass of dark matter flowed towards Yue, aided by the shrieking winds. Wisps of shadow curled around her body, almost caressing in their touch. Yue felt her initial fear ebb away, getting used to the cool touch on her bared skin.

Until a hooked obsidian talon tapped at her left ankle.

Yue started and whipped her head down. Below her ankle, two glowing red eyes stared back at her from the depths of viscous night. Unblinking. A skeletal head emerged, that of an emaciated desert jackal larger than her torso. Its body, shaped like an eagle, coalesced behind its head, the talon continuing its tap-tapping rhythm. Behind the jackal-eagle floated a winged pegasus, wisps of its face floating away with the wind and piecing back again, making it look gaunt with holes at times, whole the next. Its red unblinking eyes fixed on Yue. To the side of the pegasus was a strange amalgam of a cavern bat and mountain lion, its spiked wings flared in the storm, smoke puffing from its maw.

A hand latched onto her arm, Yue’s attention abruptly snagged to her right. A woman stared blankly at her with the same glowing red orbs, her grey hair matted and plastered to her head in clumps and around two horns protruding from her temples. Her skeletal structure poked through paper-thin flesh, and what emerged behind the woman’s body made Yue gulp on a fresh wave of cold fear. Giant spider legs unfurled from behind the woman, seeming to grow directly from her exposed back. Yue pulled her hand instinctively from the spider-lady’s grasp, but her hold was firm.

As her dream-self continued to hover in the middle of the hurricane, more nightmare creatures emerged. Half human faces gaped at her with inhumanly large mouths, their cold hands grasping at her night robes. Yue struggled frantically, choking on her fear and scream, unable to move, unable to untangle herself from the prison of clinging darkness.

This is just a taste, child…but for now you are not ready to see more…already, your heart threads are vibrating at capacity…any faster and they will snap…soon, little lamb, you will be ready sooner than you think…

High in the sky, the Weaver behind the moon closed her mouth, her grotesque smile once more an ordinary crescent, a luminesce slash across the blanket of night. The flow of viscous dark matter stopped, and the lesser Weaver looked down upon Yue with her tilted eyes still closed, beautiful and terrifying.

Yue jolted awake from her sleep. Her heart pounded in her chest, cold sweat on her temples and her scream still lodged in her throat. She pressed her shaking palms to her chest, inhaling deeply. Glancing out the gap in her window, the paper screens crackling quietly from the wind outside, the glowing crescent hung low in the sky, normal and unassuming. No bleeding edges or mysterious lady with long dark hair that fluttered in its own breeze.

There is still a few hours till dawn, Yue noticed, might as well get in a few hours of meditation since all classes are cancelled this week in lieu of the Moon Festival. And without dawn combat classes, that gave her a good three hours before she had to report for stable duties.

Yue sat up on her mattress, legs folded in lotus form and her hands resting on her knees. Beginning with the deep breathing exercises Master Kol drilled into his students, Yue attempted to enter her thread sight.

***

The Villa was starting to wake and buzz with activity when distant chatter alerted Yue to Kerk and Kelia’s arrival before they stepped into the stables. Yue rose from her seated position behind a sleepy chestnut stallion, humble steed of a cavalry sergeant she had the pleasure to meet a few days past.

“Hey, Yue,” Kerk greeted, lacking his usual cheer.

“You’re early.” Kelia looked out at the sky just beginning to brighten, frowned. “In fact, you’re really early.”

“Good morning to you too. Thought I should get a head start with the number of guests that arrived yesterday,” Yue replied, her earlier nightmare now only a shadow in her memories, a dream fading with time. Her meditation helped, so did her father who came and sat beside her lotus form with his own an hour before dawn, his quiet, steady presence a rock to her scattered thoughts. “How is Uncle Jotun?”

Yue remembered the way he leaned heavily onto the twins the previous night as they walked away from the gathering of royals, her worry for the elderly stablemaster a knot in her heart.

Kelia sighed, leaning against the door to the stall of the chestnut stallion Yue was tending to. “Father is fine, holding up well with some of the banquet’s leftover alcohol.”

Yue’s heart twisted at the guilt on the twins’ faces, her own guilt surfacing. She was the cause of their worry, so she had a role in their ordeal. Kelia picked at the brown ribbon that cinched her sleeves around her wrists, forcing a smile to her face.

“Good thinking about the early preparations, though. If the entire inner household will be going to the palace in a month, that means they will begin their journey two weeks from now. The amount of feed, tack, towels, utensils, and equipment for the horses and hounds to sort and pack is going to be a massive headache. I don’t even want to think about what Xu Jing and the housekeeping staff are facing right now.”

Kerk shuddered, walking over to the rack of brushes, considering the display. “At least we have Konpi and the others, and all we have to face is these beauties.” Selecting a mane comb, he walked up to the chestnut stallion and stroked his elegant mane. “While they have to tend to all those prickly nobles.”

“What’s wrong with those prickly nobles, Kerk?” Ye Yang’s sudden appearance at the stable doors had the three of them jumping in surprise, startling the chestnut stallion between them.

“Ho there,” Kerk murmured as his eyes glowed a brief emerald before settling into a muted green in the dark of the stable. Soothing strokes down the stallion’s lean muzzle, before he and Kelia turned to bow towards Ye Yang. With the twins so uncharacteristically subdued, Yue caught Ye Yang’s eye and shook her head, warning him not to tease the twins today. He widened his eyes and gave her an apologetic half smile. He glanced behind him, where Prince Yin Long appeared.

Kelia gasped, both she and Kerk dropping to kneel on the cold stable floor. Stablehands in the aisles stopped whatever they were doing to go to their knees, palms up on the floor in obeisance. Yue beamed at the prince before following the others, her head bowed low. Yue peeked up to see Ye Yang whisper into Prince Yin Long’s ear, to the prince’s embarrassed flush and a hurried push at the captain’s shoulder. Ye Yang laughed heartily while Prince Yin Long cleared his throat, raising his right hand.

“At ease.”

Everyone rose, Kelia excusing herself hurriedly to the other side of the stables. Kerk bowed at the waist and followed his sister. Yue looked after their retreating backs worriedly. Last night must have been quite a shock for the both of them to be so afraid of the prince and Ye Yang.

"I hope their trauma of nobles would lessen over time," Prince Yin Long said empathically.

Ye Yang stared after the twins, a troubled frown under his white headband.

“What’s the matter?” Yue asked. Ye Yang looked down, glanced up and excused himself, jogging in the direction the twins disappeared to. Yue looked inquiringly at Prince Yin Long, who gave her a rueful smile.

“He probably feels partially responsible for Concubine Yol-min’s unnecessarily harsh judgements last night. Although, I do not disagree with her observation. Concubine Shu permits far too much flexibility in this Villa’s hierarchy,” Prince Yin Long said, coming to stand at the stall’s doorway.

“But what decides that hierarchy? Kerk and Kel’s weaving makes them better beast handlers than I am. They’re smart, capable, hardworking…they are fully capable of inheriting the title of Royal Beast Weaver. Much more than I am.” The last came out in a whisper, Yue’s voice shrinking as she voiced her innermost insecurities. “It is only by my birth that I am not a forgotten street urchin, wasting away in an alley in Vyrnos.”

The prince shook his head. “Our birth decides but one thing — our starting line. The privilege we enjoy is the accumulation of the glory of generations of our ancestors through their contribution to their emperor and country, passed down through time. It is how we immortalise our family names and our legacies, for those with the ambition and will. The only difference between the stablemaster’s children and you is the resources with which you began life with. Without ambition and will, one born into the noblest of families will not amount to anything than one from the gutters who claws his way to a higher station through careful strategy.”

Yue absorbed his words in silence, her hands continuing to brush the chestnut mare with rote efficiency. Prince Yin Long had always been wiser than his years, but she wasn’t sure if she agreed with him this time. There were some things decided at birth that hard work alone can never surpass. She should know, for all the hours of extra meditation practices she had put in before the Villa awoke and long after its inhabitants slept when the midnight silence of the corridors was her only companion, her weaving was still an erratic, fickle thing.

Prince Yin Long’s hand above hers shocked her out of her reverie, his long fingers covering hers. She stopped mid-stroke, flushing as she retracted her hand. His endearing lopsided smile peeked out at her reaction.

“It wasn’t my intention to preach, my apologies if I ruined your mood. What I did come to the stables to do was thank you for saving me yesterday. Your hand to hand combat has gotten faster, definitely faster than anyone your age I’ve seen. And the way you appeared beside me when the assassin was about to release his gathered flames…it was amazing, Yue.”

Yue looked down in embarrassment, not sure how to react to the compliment. “I’m not sure how I did that actually, so it wouldn’t be appropriate to accept such high praise.”

A soft shake of his head, his tone firm. “You were ready to sacrifice your life for mine. I saw that much in your eyes. That is not something I will ever forget, and I thank you for it.”

She fidgeted with the water brush in her hands. “Okay…you’re welcome then, Your Highness.”

“Don’t be so distant. Two years apart and I’m back to Your Highness,” Prince Yin Long chided gently. Yue peeked at him from beneath her bangs, feeling shy.

As the silence stretched, Prince Yin Long held his hands behind his back awkwardly before continuing.

“I came to also inform you that I will be departing for Vyrnos with Concubine Yol-min after the midday meal now that our official duties are done.”

“So soon? But you only arrived yesterday.” Yue’s heart sank. She couldn’t help the pout that appeared on her face.

He laughed and leaned in close. “Yes, unfortunately. Although, it did earn me this new expression of yours. You should use it more often.”

Yue’s flush deepened. She pushed at his shoulder, forgetting the brush in her hand and leaving a wet stain on his silk robe.

“I’m sorry! I forgot—I didn’t mean to—I’m so sorry,” she stuttered as she wiped at the stain hastily. He stilled her frantic pats with a light touch on her wrists.

“It’s fine. I only wanted to see you again before my departure. The midday meal will be a family affair—” a twist in his mouth “—so we will not have the chance to meet again before you arrive in Vyrnos for the Festival.

“I enjoyed our time in the gardens yestereve, assassination attempt aside. I bid you a safe journey, Yue, and I look forward to seeing you again in the palace.” Prince Yin Long released her hands and stepped back.

“And I you,” Yue said sadly. He smiled and nodded at her, before turning and leaving the stable. Yue stared after him, the slit of the orange orchard visible beyond the stable doors showed the Villa abuzz with outer household members preparing for the processions to Vyrnos. She thought of what he said earlier, of noble families, legacies, ambition and will.

As more stablehands streamed into the stable, Konpi stuck his head around the stall door to where Yue was brushing the mane of the chestnut stallion distractedly.

“Mistress Yue, your help is needed in aisle thirty-two. The spotted Andalusian mare has begun foaling. Master Jotun is attending to the morning drills with the other stablehands, and she is resisting our help.”

Yue dropped the mane comb onto a nearby shelf, wiping her hands on a hanging rag. “Isn’t she due next month?”

“Yes, Mistress Yue. That is why she is in a lot of pain right now, we need an extra weaver to calm her down”

“An extra weaver? Konpi…”

“I heard your weaving manifested, Mistress Yue, my belated congratulations.”

As they rushed down the aisles, Yue smiled back worriedly at the beaming stablehand. An extra weaver? She had assisted in many a foaling before, but always as an extra hand to pass bandages or a sterile knife, not as a weaver. The panicked neighing of the mare in foaling got louder as they approached aisle thirty-two, the weathered timber plague with faded bronze numbering swaying gently by the stall door from all the stablehands moving in and out with buckets of fresh water and rags.

She took several calming breaths as she stepped into the stall. The broodmare laid on a bed of fresh straw in the center of the large birthing stall, Kelia sat on a short stool behind her, green eyes aglow. Kerk knelt by the huffing mare’s head, emerald eyes luminous as he attempted to calm the mare’s racing heart. Kelia wiped at her forehead with her sleeves as her expert hands wrapped the mare’s tail with a long cloth. Stablehands rushed to wash the mare’s hindquarters in preparation for the foal’s impending delivery.

Yue took in the scene in an instant, glancing over to where Ye Yang stood in a corner, a worried, quiet observer.

"Good, you're here. We need another weaver on the foal's position," Kelia said from her bent position. She sat up and swept her long ponytail behind her shoulder.

“But, Kel, I’ve never…”

“Nillea suffered trauma to her abdomen when Konpi brought her to the foaling pasture. It’s an induced labor way before her expected delivery date. You can see the foal is facing Nillea’s head.” Stress lines appeared between her brows as she explained to Yue in a hurry.

“Has anyone gone to inform Uncle Jotun? I can—”

Nillea neighed weakly in pain, interrupting Yue mid sentence as Kelia quickly bent and held her palms up, the glow in her eyes intensifying before dulling to their usual green. Nillea’s struggling quieted slightly.

“Konpi and the others have gone to find my father, but Nillea’s situation is critical. It’s a red bag delivery, Yue, among her other complications. Look at the deep scarlet threads swirling in her. Her placenta’s either detached already or the foal’s bleeding. We need at least three weavers here.”

Yue hesitated by the stall door. Any mistake might endanger both the mare and her foal even more than they were already in. Too much pressure on the foal might cause a fracture or deformity, or a rupture in the broodmare’s placenta; too little and they will not be able to correct the foal’s position in time for it to survive the delivery.

She took a hesitant step forward, glancing at Ye Yang in the corner uncertainly. He caught her eye and nodded encouragingly. Worriedly.

Kerk jumped suddenly, startled by the foal's sudden movements in Nillea.

"The vibration in her pain threads are getting harder to contain. Are you two planning to help at all?" He huffed irritably, the strain in his voice audible. “Today?”

Kelia kneeled beside Nillea's heavily distended belly, hands poised over the foal's position. Eyes beginning to light up from her weaving, Kelia looked up at Yue. "It's now or never. Are you ready?"

Yue wiped her sweating palms on her pants. She closed her eyes and concentrated, opening them again to a monochromatic world. The threads around her moved even more sluggishly than usual as her palms trembled in front of her. She gulped and gave a shallow nod to Kelia.

“On three, I’ll correct the foal’s position. I need you to make sure the cord and flaccid placenta doesn’t get in the way,” Kelia said, the glow in her eyes dim behind the grey filter of Yue’s thread sight.

“One.”

Yue squinted, studying the complex mix of ashen threads around Nillea’s belly, twined and pulsating. Mentally sorting out the shades that represented the umbilical cord and placenta from the muscles and bones, she bit on her lower lip uncertainly.

“Two…”

Nillea neighed weakly. Yue glanced towards Nillea’s head resting on Kerk’s crossed legs, and met the deep brown eyes of the foaling mare’s, glazed over in pain. Yue’s heart stuttered.

I can’t do this. The thought flashed through her mind. The only times she wove were done so unintentionally. What if she couldn’t weave now? If she didn’t clear the delivery path in tandem with Kelia, she could doom the foal even before it could take its first breath. She could possibly endanger Nillea as well.

“Ke—”

“Three!”

Emerald eyes flashed in front of Yue as she dropped out of thread sight. Kelia pulled hard with her mind and hands, hands going in opposite directions as if turning a large invisible wheel. Yue froze as the bulbous mass squirmed and moved. Sweat rolled down Kelia’s temples. Yue held her breath, praying.

Two long, dreadful minutes passed. Kelia started panting.

“Yue, I see a tangle of cords on the exit path.”

Yue squeezed her eyes shut and switched to thread sight. The pulsating mass of the palest pink threads turned slowly, the foal’s head inching towards Nillea’s birthing exit and a small clump of faint red threads — cords that would strangle the foal in a few moments if she didn’t move it out of the way.

Yue knelt by Nillea and held her shaking hands up to visualise pulling on the red threads. Her mind caught on the cord threads…and slipped, like oil on the smooth Villa reed mats. Yue reached out again, grasping at the threads and pulling what she could. The tangle unraveled an inch. Yue breathed a small sigh. She could do this.

“Are you working on the cords? The foal is almost there.”

What? Yue glanced to her left and sure enough, the foal’s head was a handspan from its noose. Her heart froze. She needed more time. She refocused on the red threads, clawing frantically at it. The more she panicked, the more she slid on the tangle of threads, her hold on her thread sight tenuous.

“Yue…” Kelia panted.

“I’m trying! Can you keep the foal there for a moment?”

“I…it’s taking everything to keep ahold of it. It’s struggling. Hurry,” Kelia urged.

Yue focused on the tangle, blocking out everything. The cords looked like a mound of, made of trap loops and dead knots. She didn’t even know where to start unraveling first.

I can’t do this…

Yue started blinking in and out of thread sight as she wiped at the sweat that dripped into her eyes.

Kelia’s sudden cry had Yue glancing quickly at the foal, which had started moving again.

If there’s no pattern to it, I’ll just have to risk using brute force to open a space for the foal to pass through and hope it doesn’t kill Nillea. Yue mentally reached into the middle of the tangle with two hands, gritted her teeth and pulled.

Nillea gave a shrill cry as Kerk spasmed and fell on his side, his eyes rolled back. Nillea’s struggling grew more frantic, which pushed the foal headfirst into the cords where a tiny space was starting to form. Kelia rocked back on her heels, pulling the foal backwards with all her strength as blood spurted from her lips.

“Kerk…” Kelia moaned through her teeth, her expression fierce.

Stablehands rushed to prop Kerk’s head up and hold his tongue out in case it choked him. Yue felt more than saw Ye Yang move towards the Kerk, quietly instructing them to give him space, knelt and began pumping on Kerk’s chest.

Yue continued prying at the tangle of cords, but it was like gripping a swarm of eels. The pink threads kept slipping through her mental fingers. A headache began to pound at her temples. As the hole in the cords grew to the size of a fist, Kelia gave a shout that was cut off abruptly as she fell backwards into a bed of hay and laid still.

“Kel! Kel!! I can’t do this. I can’t…” Yue cried as she felt despair well in her. She pulled and pulled as she watched the foal ram into the cords and struggle. Her vision blurred and her tears flowed down her cheeks.

“Help…help me…”

As her vision started to blur, the hobbling figure of Master Jotun appeared at the stall’s door, his growled commands muffled by the growing ball of cotton in her ears. Yue smiled in relief even as she felt a warm stickiness trail down her nose. She sat back on her heels and panted softly…then surrendered to the cool embrace of darkness.