Mei Jian stared at the sight in front of her, and then blinked. It was still there, a body face down in sands, stained red all around it. She lifted her hand to rub the sleep from her eyes, and it only manifested clearer and sharper into reality.

A dull, deep crimson pool of blood, like a shadow cast upon the sand, slowly spreading out from the dark figure in the center. Above it, another shadow stood. No, not a shadow. A person, wrapped in various shades of dark gray from head to toe, and holding a short, slender blade in one hand. It didn’t shine like steel, or even have the dull luster of iron. Instead, this sword was black in a way that seemed to drink in the light around, making it impossible to focus directly on.

Her eyes tracked back down to the body, and only now could they pick out the matching blade protruding from its back. The dark-clothed shadow moved, and Mei Jian shot to her feet, the last traces of sleep instantly burned away by the panic that surged through her.

“You spotted me.” The figure spoke, its voice sounding almost petulant. “Can’t be helped. Who goes to the trouble of making a whole forest of dark trees, and then fills it up with lights anyway?”

They took a step closer to the body in the blood, and on instinct Mei Jian stepped forwards, drawing her sword. “What exactly do you think it is that you’re doing inside the Plum Blossom Sect?”

Her words were met with a shrug, and she could see the face below the mask twist up into a smile. “Making sure that this worm doesn’t somehow manage to see the sunrise.”

A casual, off handed gesture towards their victim as they tried another step. She took two in response, leaving them both only one more from the edge of the reddened sand. A hiss came as her reward.

“Think about it. If you let me make sure she’s dead, then I get my job done, and you get to claim you heroically drove a dangerous demonic artist away from the sect. That has to be worth a lot of contribution points, right?”

Mei Jian subtly tested her grip on the hilt of her blade. Still somewhat weakened, still a little stiff. But passable, still better than using her off hand. “I could get a lot more points if I changed ‘drove away’ for ‘killed’.”

The beating of her heart picked up as the words left her mouth, pounding below the token in her robe. “But more than that, I have a responsibility. The sect took me in, and I owe them a debt. I can’t afford to let some scummy backstabber wander around freely.”

The smile beneath the cloth vanished, replaced with a sharp exhalation from the nose. “I see. Even if it’s the choice between that and your life? That’s the robe of an initiate. You can’t possibly think that you can beat me.”

She forced a smile of her own into the gap. “You seem awfully keen on avoiding combat for someone I supposedly can’t beat. Could it be that you only feel comfortable knifing people in the back?”

Her blade moved, pointing towards the woman soaked in blood instead. “Besides, for all your talk about it being the safer choice, I have a first-hand example of what happens to those who turn away from you.”

This time she earned a deep breath in from the mouth, the figure taking time to respond. The thumping in her chest increased enough she wouldn’t have been surprised if the assassin could hear it in the silence between words. A drop of cold sweat rolled down the back of her neck as she awaited the next words.

Another nasal breath out, this one more a snort. The figure raised the black blade to a high stance. “She took our art. That isn’t forgivable. Not her, nor you for defending her.”

Mei Jian swallowed. All that nervousness, the sweat, the pulse, the faint tingling in her spine and the hairs that stood up on their own, doubled, then tripled as a wave of pure, raw bloodlust emanated from her shadowy opponent.

In terms of build, they were alike enough that the disguise made it impossible to judge who held the upper hand. In terms of weapons, her own jian was longer. A wider blade as well, one capable of cutting. The cloaked enemy had a blade that seemed almost devoid of an edge entirely, being thicker and sharply tapering from the hilt, more akin to a long spike masquerading as shortsword. It was made for piercing, whether armor on the battlefield or through obstacles where unsuspecting targets lay. An assassin’s weapon, not a duelist’s.

She held the advantage then, reach, versatility—Mei Jian had let her eyes grow too focused on the sword, and she barely reacted in time when the figure snapped their other arm out. Something dark hurled at her, and on instinct she slashed out at it. A ring of steel, and her opponent was gone.

From the side came a series of quick yet committed thrusts, the reappearing shadow driving each one at a different vital point. She met them, ending to knock each one aside and counter.

They didn’t want to be parried. Instead, she found herself moving out of the way of each one, changing the position of her feet in order to guide them away. They had more weight than attacks from a person that size, with a blade like that should. It was like the difference between the flow of water and honey, the latter refusing to move when shaken or tilted, only slowly oozing.

A stab rising up from below forced Mei Jian to move back, ceding and circling to the side. Her opponent didn’t let this chance slip, following after and placing the full force of that turn into their next attack. Once again, her sword failed to sway it enough, and only jerking her head to the side prevented the point from granting her a third eye.

Straight on at the heart, displacing her own attempt at an attack. Up high to the head, a strike from above using the darkness to hide the angle of the dark blade. A gutting jab, aimed at her liver with a flanking step to the side, coming from the exact opposite place as the cut she had just blocked.

Each one was unfailingly precise, carrying the weight of killing intent. Each one had that firmness, that foundation behind it that made it impossible to fully deflect or knock aside. Mei Jian became a puppet, dancing on the strings held by the shadow before her. There was a new reality to the threats, a new solidity to the figure’s promise to kill her.

Focus. Keep a cool head. Right now, she needed to break free of this sequence. She paired a thrust, both striking out at the same time, planting a foot forwards to aid weight and power. Her opponent merely angled their own to knock her lighter blade aside, but that lunge never met flesh. From the moment her front foot planted, Mei Jian used it to pivot and shove away, opening up space where her longer weapon could reclaim the advantage.

Her back foot didn’t fully land before another projectile streaked out at her, snapping through the air with a hiss. She caught it high on her blade, sparks flying from the metal, blinding her for a second. A second was all it took for the assassin to drive that spike into her chest.

All the air was forced from her lungs, and her own blade lashed out as she tumbled back. Somewhere past the new burning in her ribs, the feeling of flesh was transmitted down her blade. That was something to die to, at least. Please be lethal. Don’t let me die alone, not here.

She hit the ground with that silent prayer in mind, voiced to any gods or spirits that might be listening. That was all she needed. If the assassin died here from that wound, then Mei Jian could move on in peace.

That thought lingered in her mind for one beat, then two. Then a third. Beats of her heart, she realized. Her heart which, despite the sharp pain above it, despite the way each breath was a struggle, still beat. There was no metal spike protruding from it, no killing blow.

No, she could see it. Right where her heart was, jaggedly sticking up into the air. Her free hand groped over to it, and attempted to pull it free. It resisted, not caught in her ribcage, but on her robe. It wasn’t the blade that was caught. Tracing down the cold steel, Mei Jian felt her hand once more meet the impossibly hard wood of the sect token, the point of the sword buried in the center of the design.

Her first breath wheezed back into her lungs, and she sucked it in greedily only to feel every muscle in her body clench as another sharp spike of pain hit her chest. At least one broken rib. For a few moments she lay there, trying to move as little and breath as shallow as possible.

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A need to know let Mei Jian force her body on to its side; to where she could see the figure once more. They lay unmoving, her last errant slash having landed true. Her arms almost buckled from the mix of persistent agony and the relief that surged through her. She made a silent note to make an offering to whatever god or gods looked over the sect grounds.

Slowly, she began to lower herself back to the ground. It would be best not to move too much, not until she was sure how badly she was injured. Surely the sect had people who would come through, at least on a daily basis, judging by the state of the landscaping. Another thought hit her.

“I need to make sure she’s dead”, the assassin had said.

Meaning that body, that woman lying down in a pool of blood could still be alive. Not for too much longer, if that much of her vital essence had already been spilled. Not unless someone was able to help her. There was only one person with that chance.

A silent curse slipped through her lips as Mei Jian forced herself to stand fully, one arm wrapped around her chest. With the other she reclaimed her sword, making sure the corpse she took it from had already lost the final vestiges of life. A morbid temptation rose up in her, to make certain beyond all doubt, which she forced back down. There was no breath left in that body.

Instead, she forced herself over to the first body and knelt beside it, ignoring the way that her pants were stained by the bloody sand. Jutting from the back, buried several inches deep, was a blade identical to the one that had nearly been her own demise.

Mei Jian felt her hands tremble as she reached them out. Should she take out the sword? Or was it still serving to stem the bleeding? Her heart thrummed beneath her broken ribs. Oh, that’s right. Her pulse. She needed to make sure the woman in front of her was still alive before anything else.

She laid a careful finger on her throat, and was rewarded with an ever so faint beat. Alive, but barely.

Before, when she was walking around the sect, Mei Jian had seen the infirmary. And Master Chen had mentioned purchasing medical supplies as well in his speech. That was where she had to go. Each step was like another strike to the side, even the smallest of jostles making the muscles of her chest spasms from the jolts of pain. Even in comparison to her relaxed walk here, her current pace was halved at best. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to pick up the pace until she walked normally, and then with a powerful stride.

Each time her foot hit the ground, the world flashed a bright white before her eyes, and for a fraction of a second she lost her balance. I should be running. But Mei Jian could already tell that anything beyond this was more than her body could handle. It wouldn’t do the dying woman any good for her to pass out here from her own injury.

The building came into sight, lit with the comforting pink lanterns that matched the sect colors. For a moment, the dark thought of it being closed for the night entered her mind, but the door swung open, and she was greeted by a woman at the counter.

“A new initiate?” The older girl’s gaze flicked over Mei Jian’s expression of pain and her bloodied clothing. “Here for medical treatment? Or just buying supplies?”

She shook her head, and then winced at the pain even that caused. “There's-”

Her words cut off as she wheezed for air. “There’s someone badly injured. She’s been stabbed, and has lost a lot of blood. I need whatever the strongest thing you can give me is, as quickly as possible.”

The woman sighed. “I can’t just hand things out, you know? Show me your sect token.”

Mei Jian obliged, and the healer took it, looking curiously at the new scar in the wood. “It’s only been a single day. How have you messed up the token already?”

“Please, hurry!” A hint of a snarl came out in her voice. That earned her narrowed eyes, but the woman dropped the question, pulling out a ledger and turning to the very last page.

“Mei Jian?” she asked. “You have a hundred contribution points to your name, double the normal amount. That old Zhihao Chen must have been impressed. I can give you bandages, needle and thread, alcohol, and painkilling herbs.”

“I need more than that!” This time her voice was fully twisted by anger. “You don’t understand! Someone is dying, already run through and left to bleed out! I thought the Plum Blossom Sect had access to elixirs. That’s what Master Chen said.”

The healer snorted, giving her a patronizing smile. “I can’t exactly hand those out to any random girl that comes in here, can I? As an initiate, if you want a blood replenishing drought, it will be a thousand points. Not one less.”

Mei Jian slammed her hand on the counter between them, rage enough to ignore the pain that shot through her torso from the impact. “Someone. Is. Dying.”

“Not. My. Job.” The woman leaned forwards, putting them face to face. “Unless this someone is a full-fledged member of the sect rather than a fellow initiate, I can’t give you the elixir.”

Her face relaxed, and she sighed as she leaned back. “Look, I’m not heartless, okay? I can let you take out up to five hundred points worth of supplies, so long as you’re willing to go that far into debt. But twice that is just too far. Blood replenishing droughts don’t grow on trees.”

Mei Jian felt her hand start to reach for her sword, before it came grinding to a halt. She couldn’t afford to let someone die, not when she could save them. But to repay the kindness of the sect by robbing them at swordpoint? That would be just as much of a dishonor. What should I do?

As she stood there, wracked with indecision, another token flew over her head. The healer snatched it out of the air, glaring behind her. “Wait your own turn, brat.”

“You said a thousand for the blood replenishing drought? And as an initiate up to half that in debt?”

Wei Feng’s smooth voice echoed through the shop as he stepped forward with his face plastered with a smirk. “Then together, there should be no issue, right?”

The healer shook her head. “That was only because she had been favored by Zhihao Chen. As a normal initiate, you would be lucky to get a tenth that.”

He chuckled. “How about this? Check my name, and if I too have earned the old man’s favor, then you throw in all the rest of those things needed for free. What do you say?”

“A spoiled brat like you, calling a sect elder ‘old man’?” Her face twisted into a smirk that matched his. “Arrogant young masters who don’t know their place are exactly the type of person that Zhihao Chen hates.”

Her insult washed over him like water flowing over a road. “Then you have nothing to fear from taking my bet and checking, do you?”

“You—” She flipped to the end of the ledger once more, and traced down to the bottom with her finger. Her face hardened, and without saying a word the healer stood, walked into a back room, and returned with a small clay vial, the cork sealed with a dark red wax that brought to mind the color of blood. She placed it on the counter, and added another vial, this one with a colorless seal, as well as a small jar wrapped in paper, thread with a needle, and a wrapped bundle of bandages.

“Take them. But I’m warning you, if both of you don’t have your debt, the full thousand, paid by the end of the year, you’ll be thrown out of the sect.”

A snort was Wei Feng’s only response as he gathered the items and spun on his heel. He marched to the door, only stopping for half a second to shoot a question at Mei Jian. “Well? Where are we heading?”

She rushed after him, and then back towards the place she had left the dying woman. Her pace earned a questioning glance from the young master as he followed, but he refrained from comment, merely handing her the larger items and then striding behind her until they reached the sanded area of the forest. In an instant, he left her behind, sprinting to the soaked pool of blood.

Mei Jian arrived to find him cutting the cloth away from her back, exposing the jagged wound with the weapon still in it. Carefully, he placed one hand on the flesh to steady it and gripped the blade as low as he could with his other to pull it free.

“Wait!” Mei Jian held out a hand. “That might make the bleeding worse.”

He shook his head in reply. “Hardly. The injury site is already torn open, much larger than the blade that dealt it. If it was still stemming the bloodflow, then this puddle all around us wouldn’t exist.”

With that he yanked it out, flipping the woman over and gently holding her half-upright with one hand while pulling out the vile with the other. Wei Feng yanked the cork free with his teeth, and then poured it down her throat in one go. From several steps away, Mei Jian could smell the pungent scent, overpowering even the blood all around them, filling her eyes with water.

The woman didn’t react in the slightest, remaining completely limp in his arms. Turning her back over and lowering her down again, the young master gestured her forward.

“Help me with the sewing. Don’t just stand there like a tree.”

He washed the wound with the alcohol first, then took the needle and thread from her. His technique was controlled and practiced, leaving her with little to do but pass him more of the thread when he held out a hand. The needle danced across red flesh as it pulled pale skin tight over it, before Wei Feng tied off the thread and she passed him the bandages.

In just a few swift motions, he bound the wound tightly, adding enough at the site to provide padding and pressure while using enough lines around her body to ensure it stayed tight from all angles. At the edges, the bandages were tinged red once more, but only slightly. Hopefully a sign the stitches held true, rather than that she had no blood left to spill forth.

That done, the young master slowly stood, squinting unpleasantly at the stains upon his formerly pristine clothing, and turned to Mei Jian with an expression she couldn’t quite read.

“So? Do I get an explanation now?”