I try to avoid killing.

The way I see it, everything is already in a struggle to survive and thrive.

Why cause more strife? And perhaps, one day something will do the same for me.

But he disagreed.

He said that if there's an opportunity to kill something, you should always take it.

It forever removes the possibility of it becoming a threat.

To this day, I don't know who is more correct.

— Lost Winds, by an unnamed traveler

----------------------------------------

Glass instruments in all shapes and sizes lined Kalle's well-lit workshop from floor to ceiling. The view would have been daunting to a novice visitor, but it did not deter Primrose. Though she had limited the alchemist to the items he deemed most necessary when approving his purchase requests, Primrose still found herself contorting her body as she navigated through the cramped space between glass containers full of fluid or dry powder of various colors. She did not want to know what would happen if she broke some of the containers.

As she reached the back of the workshop, Primrose tapped a nail against a nearby glass beacon, ensuring it clinked audibly so she wouldn’t surprise Kalle with her silent approach. She then cleared her throat as she walked up. "I remember you said when you first met Molam he went by the name Carlton, and the most notable aspect was that Flangel the Wise took an interest in him. Did you ever wonder who he is?"

Kalle didn't respond immediately as he ground something with a stone mortar and pestle. "I didn't know Molam carried the color of the Oracle's approval at the time. I can only assume that Master Flangel could See it and that gave him reason enough to take an interest. What makes you ask?"

Primrose pulled up a chair as she waited for Kalle to finish his task. "I was contemplating what sort of people the Oracle chooses as her vessel."

Kalle poured the brown powder into a vial containing clear blue liquid, which immediately turned red. "We only have recorded knowledge of one. The Frozen Saint, Mother of Hjornheim. With only two examples, we can hardly make any connection." He inspected the liquid within, nodded to himself and then set it down atop a warming stone with etched golden runes.

"Maybe so," Primrose conceded. "But ever since I told you all that we were waiting for the Oracle to send someone, no doubt all of you have wondered who it would be."

"I believe this is a bit late to have this conversation." Kalle's tone became smooth, guarded. "Are you having second thoughts about him? I admit he isn't the Whale of ZhiXia but Molam has proven himself in different ways."

"Oh, I'm not thinking of removing him. Truth be told, he has exceeded all expectations." Primrose brushed aside Kalle's worried tone. "The Whale of ZhiXia could have undoubtedly helped us control JiangXi but the aftermath would have been…" Primrose paused, exhaled, then continued. "...disastrous. Which is why I was thinking about the Oracle's foresight and how she chose Molam."

Kalle's shoulders relaxed, then shrugged. "To know why someone is the way they are, you must look back to how they came to be."

Primrose thought for a moment as the two of them watched the vial. The liquid within had gone from a clear red to an opaque orange. "That's an interesting thought. Did you come up with it?"

"Oh no, not me, not directly," Kalle leaned forward and inspected the vial's colors, then set it back down. "It's based upon one of Master Flangel's sayings: To know why something is the way it is, you must look back to how it came to be. I simply thought that it can apply to people as well, and I believe Master Flangel was attempting to put it into practice when he raised Nettie." The orange liquid had begun to turn clear again, and Kalle snatched it off the warming stone to peer at it. Satisfied, he handed the glass vial to Primrose.

"Nettie?" Primrose asked, accepting the vial gingerly, covering her nose at the smell. "Oh. The newest Prodigy. I've been focused on JiangXi for so long, I forgot that things are happening elsewhere around the world. Hasn't she received her Title at the age of five or six? That's quite impressive."

"Impressive is an understatement if you've seen the things she's come up with. I wonder if Master Flangel bothered to take notes on her upbringing so future generations can replicate the conditions that raised a Prodigy." Kalle spun around, heading back to his mixing table with practiced ease, walking so fast Primrose almost thought he was going to bump into every single instrument along the way. "Drink that quickly, by the way, before it congeals."

Primrose looked at the acrid-smelling concoction with disgust. "Couldn't you make this taste better? Honey, or sugar?"

"Each additional ingredient adds complications. Best keep it simple, unless you want to stay bedridden and wait for the drowsiflora to leave you naturally."

Pinching her nose, Primrose inserted the vial deeply into her mouth in the hopes that she could spare her tongue. The viscous liquid dropped agonizingly slowly down her throat. She resisted the urge to retch, and only when she had swallowed it all did she set the vial to the side and reach for water.

Gagging silently at the lingering taste, Primrose was grateful that Kalle had his back turned to her as she held a clenched fist to her lips as though she could smear the aftertaste away from her senses. But it needed to be done; Molam was still recovering and the Dao needed an acting leader.

"Thank you, Kalle."

"Not an issue. I apologize for not understanding enough about drowsiflora to come up with something that would help you with your aura circulation." The alchemist pulled out his glass piece and peered at her through it, then shook his head. "Well, it should return to you within a few days, and no one else will know. What will you be doing today?"

"Overseeing the tally of what JiangXi actually has. Whatever documents and information the City Lord's Mansion contained were blown away by the Tempest," Primrose sat for a while longer, not trusting her stomach to agree with what she had just forced down. Kalle's question, while probably intended to get her to share some responsibility with him, was better used as a way to organize her thoughts vocally. "It's too much to ask for our people to search for it now that Winter's Sorrow is here, and I doubt we'd recover all of it regardless. There needs to be a good understanding of all the resources we can provide the citizens, though it's not looking good. No point having JiangXi if we lose it due to lack of internal support."

Kalle did not turn around, one hand adding a pinch of blue powder to a mortar even as his other hand swirled a red mixture without pause. "Don't push yourself too hard, Primrose."

"Neither should you." Primrose pushed against her knees and stood up. "Go see Shurra when you can, or Bernad is the only one that visits her."

The swirling wrist did not pause, but his other hand did as Kalle reached for the pestle. "I thought you visited Shurra."

"Oh I do," Primrose stepped cautiously through the glass maze and reached for the door. "But Shurra is demanding her tattoo, and it's safe to say that Bernad is unfamiliar with the ways of the Northern Tribes. I think someone with a similar upbringing should do it, given that you already do the delicate rune carving for your warming stones."

The hand grabbed at the pestle and began grinding away at the mortar, the swirling of the red liquid not stopping. "I don't know what you mean."

"I wonder how one becomes Kalle then. Perhaps to know why you are who you are, you must look back towards how you came to be?"

She wanted to say more, but Primrose saw the way Kalle worked away at the mortar and felt she risked his ire if she continued.

When he emptied the mortar into a bowl and refilled it without answering her, Primrose slipped through the door without a sound. It pained her to see a man like Kalle avoid his own past, but she could do no more for her friend than gentle reminders.

She closed the door to the sound of the pestle's steady grinding into the mortar.

***

"The patient is not feeling well." Bernad shut the door firmly behind him, stepping in front of Primrose as she reached for the handle. "Allow him to rest."

Though Primrose was nowhere close to being as tall as Shurra, she was still tall enough to look the healer in the eyes. She had never asked about the man's skin but prided herself on being able to look squarely at him without flinching the way she had seen many others do.

"I am only going to talk to him."

The healer closed his eyes and shook his head. "Allow me to do my job, Primrose. He does not need more stress."

"Stress?" She did not let on her indignation as she tried to sidestep him. "It's merely a report. How can I relinquish leadership to him if he starts by staying ignorant of our current situation?"

"How can he be an effective leader if he's overstressed while trying to recover?" Bernad countered, matching her sidestep. "And as for leadership, I am doing this because I see him as the leader." The man held out a stiff arm, barring her from entry. "Exactly as you told us to do."

Primrose almost instinctively layered her voice, but her aura did not respond even as she clenched her jaw. It was one thing in front of Molam who was cloaked in the Oracle's protection, but the loss of her Charm had been frustrating beyond measure for the past two days. She could almost hear her old Madame's gentle rebuke in her head: how could a Petal with superficial charm hope to become a Flower?

She smiled at Bernad and placed a gentle hand along his rigid arm. "It's always a wonderful thing to know a man has strength in his convictions, Bernad." Sliding a finger up along his arm, she applied a firm finger to the crook of his elbow and the man's limb gave way easily. "I am impressed that you take my words to heart so well." She sighed softly, looking into his eyes and making him take a step back as she leaned in closer. "Perhaps you can make an exception just for me? I promise to be quick."

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

The white splotches across his cheeks reddened as he looked away from her eyes. The poor man had probably never had a proper conversation with a woman before. "I…"

"You want to ensure that all our people are well enough to do the difficult task ahead of us, and that's perfectly commendable." What had Scarlette once said? Men are weak to compliments? "And I'm quite certain that everyone here appreciates all the hard work you put in, being our lone healer. So I want you to know that I understand your concerns, Bernad. I really, really do." Perhaps too much. This was unbecoming. "So I promise to be quick. This is just a meeting that he is expecting, so I'm sure you can understand, can't you?"

The man blinked, his arm falling to his side as he stepped to the side, murmuring without looking at her. "I — well, if you insist, Primrose."

"Thank you, Bernad." Primrose brushed her dress against him as she reached for the door. "Please, continue on with your duties."

She closed the door behind her, looking into Molam's room.

It was darker than she expected, too dark for Primrose's eyes to adjust immediately and she instinctively palmed a dagger at the darkness. The subtle scent of a smothered candle lingered in the air and a chill that ran down her neck. For a moment she thought someone had left the window open but she saw it closed, the falling snow illuminating the glass panes as they drifted past.

"Molam?" She almost whispered into the darkness, sliding a silent foot along the wooden floorboard.

A shift, the sound of cloth rubbing against each other.

"Primrose?"

"Why is it so dark?" She tried to keep the rush of relief out of her voice as she continued to slide forward. "Wasn't Bernad just tending to you?"

"I wanted the —" his voice paused. "I couldn't sleep with the candlelight."

Her eyes had adjusted by now, just enough to make out the shapes illuminated by the meager light of the divine snow. She saw the faint outline of the bed and the chair she had sat in last night, but more importantly she could just barely make out Molam's figure shifting himself upright on the bed.

"I'm going to sit by you." Stowing away the naked blade, she approached slowly and pulled out the chair, ensuring that Molam could hear the legs of the chair drag along the floor so he wasn't too alarmed.

Upon sitting down, she realized she still couldn't see his face, but the scent of dried blood and gauze was overwhelming in the darkness. Looking towards the table by her side, she saw the extinguished candlestick and began looking for a match.

But a hand reached out to grip her by the wrist, and she resisted the urge to flinch. "Are you going to summon a light for us?"

"No." His voice seemed hoarse, far more than she remembered it last night. The pressure on her wrist lessened, and then his fingers slipped away. "Leave it."

She almost contested it, but decided that Molam must have his reasons. For some reason, the meager light from the window and the angle she was facing him meant that she could not make out his facial expression, and only the slightest glimmer of light that reflected off of his eyes indicated he was even looking at her.

"I understand you're still recovering, but this is urgent. We managed a full tally today. There isn't enough in the city's leftover storage to sustain us throughout Winter's Sorrow. Much of it was blown away by the Tempest's final attack." She sat down in her chair, wondering if she should lean forward to look for Molam's expression or lean back to give him his space. "It seemed her final 'gift' to us was better considered than I thought."

In the ensuing silence, Primrose remembered a bit of advice she had once given to those that reported to her. And so she continued, "I understand you are still recovering, so I apologize if this feels as though I'm just bringing you more problems to consider, but Kalle and I came up with three possible solutions so that a decision can be reached."

She held up a finger in the darkness, wondering if from Molam's angle he could see her.

"One: not all of the city guards have agreed to join us. Kalle proposed viewing it as an equation: we determine which of the city guards can safely be ejected from the city. The ones without families or support will have no one to protect them from this decision, and by reducing the amount of mouths we need to feed—"

"No."

Primrose flinched at the tone. It was so different from the way Molam generally spoke and set her on edge. Had his injury worsened? "But Molam, there isn't time to sift through each of them and even if they have no lingering loyalty to the Empire, keeping useless, and frankly, potentially dangerous—"

"Next."

The growl, low and full of pain, made Primrose reconsider advocating for the first solution. "Very well."

She held up a second finger.

"Two: I attempt to contact the Unseen." She hesitated, but his eyes only glittered unblinkingly at her in the darkness. "We know they've been busy attacking merchant caravans since earlier this year, so there might be some hope that they have excess they are willing to trade. I think — and Kalle agrees — that GloomSire and the Unseen must still be alive. At the very least, we don't think the Tempest finished their subjugation, if we were to retrace the sequence of events and the way she arrived."

"Too dangerous." Molam's voice was softer this time. "No point risking the loss of any more members of the Dao. What's our third option?"

Primrose shifted a shoulder that was beginning to cramp, surprised by a small pop in her joint as she relaxed a muscle. Her breathing felt stilted as she wondered why her entire body seemed to be on edge; she reminded herself that Molam was not going to harm her before she lifted a third finger.

"Three: We attempt to negotiate with the mursashu. Mursa Shang's ships are still docked in the River Jiang." Primrose hesitated. "I know you mentioned this possibility before we controlled the city, but the coffers are empty. Whatever Agytha did, she left JiangXi poor. Truth be told, both Kalle and I think this isn't even worth pursuing when we have nothing to offer them besides future debt, but we would then need to convince the Mursa that we could even honor the debt."

"That's it?"

Primrose blinked in the darkness, wishing she could summon the aura to See. Perhaps it would allow her to at least read Molam's expressions. "Well, yes. That's all we could come up with."

The two glints in the darkness disappeared, then he opened his eyes again. "So to confirm, our people — and they are our people now — will starve before Spring's Blessings. You and Kalle thought that our only options are to choose the citizens we are willing to abandon or risk losing you while negotiating with a Titled One?"

"That was hardly how I presented it." Primrose frowned, wondering if he could see her expression in the darkness. "But that's an alarming way of looking at these options. Aren't you supposed to look at these decisions with that cool-headed detached way of seeing the benefits?"

"Some things shouldn't be rationalized away."

"We've just made an enemy of the Empire of the Sun and the Bloody Prince." Primrose leaned forward. "Do you really think that the Dao is in a position to accept a soft leader?" She wanted to shake him out of his bizarre stupor; the present Molam seemed completely different from the one that sat down with confident plans. "Why are you so unfocused on the bigger picture? What's wrong?"

The eyes looked at her in the darkness, then he raised his arm towards the candle to snap his fingers.

Nothing happened.

Primrose blanked, unable to comprehend what transpired. "Try again," she blinked in the darkness, willing for it to be a mistake. Molam obliged, the snap resounding loudly in her ears, made louder by the absence of a flame.

"Molam, you —" She sucked in air silently as her thoughts ran swiftly. "How? Were you struck by Lyka's spear?"

"If I was affected by the drowsiflora, I wouldn't have been able to defend us against the Tempest. Perhaps it was when she struck me." His arm lowered, falling limply back down to his side. "It's gone, Primrose. Now that I am without it, will you still follow my lead?"

"That… can't be." Try as she might, she could not think of a case like this, where someone lost their ability to use aura. "Bernad. Does Bernad know…?"

"I have not told him, but I know my body best."

"Then, the Oracle. She chose to give you her mark. Surely, she can…?"

His eyes glimmered at her as he sighed. "It is currently Winter's Sorrow, Primrose."

She bit back a snide remark. Molam had been too instrumental in their raid of the City Lord's Mansion and the subsequent fighting off the Tempest. The Dao that had survived their encounter with the Tempest had vastly embellished the story of the fight to those that were not there and some were beginning to wonder if Molam was secretly on the level of a Titled One. To lose him now, of all times, would...

"No one can know," she declared softly, extending a gentle hand to his arm and clasping his wrist with two fingers. "As soon as we can, we'll give you a reason to return to see the Oracle."

"Thank you." He shifted slightly in the darkness, and now the glow of the divine snow was illuminating the curve of his nose. "Then you still want me to lead."

"That is a necessity at this point. Moreover, your most impressive feat is not aura-based but the plans you came up with and the leadership you've already demonstrated." Primrose let go of his wrist and put her hands together, hoping that her trembling arms weren't visible to him. "Surely your mind is unaffected?"

"My thoughts are quite clear." His voice became clearer. "Then, Primrose. We will proceed with the third option. Arrange a meeting with Mursa Shang for me. Before the end of the week."

"But your health—"

"Is not more important than the Dao being backed into a corner. The people aren't going to eat less because I am injured. You are right. This is no time to be a soft leader."

She bit back the argument. He had already been informed of their monetary situation, yet he insisted regardless. "A week is not enough time to come up with enough funds to feed the city."

"No. It is enough for you and Shurra to recuperate and be at fighting strength."

Primrose's wary sense of alarm spiked. "Are you unwell? No one steals from the mursashu. God Gered has seen to that."

"I don't plan on stealing from the mursashu."

"Then why do you need us to be at fighting strength?"

There was a lengthy pause before he responded.

"If Mursa Shang deserves his Title as a Mursa, he is already considering the value of being able to offer my head to the Empire."

She stood up immediately, and the shaking hands weren't due to the lingering effects of Kalle's antidote. It made sense, and she could not contain her inner fury at herself for not thinking of this earlier. "Then why would you even go? Even if Shurra and I are at peak strength, the mursashu aren't someone we can fight without cause. Moreover," she paused to collect herself, slowing her words and lowering her voice, "how is this any different from the first two options I presented? You won't sacrifice those that aren't part of us, you won't put the members of the Dao in danger, but you choose the one where you are at the most risk?"

"Doing so minimizes our potential loss."

"You seem to be suggesting that losing you isn't a devastating loss." Primrose could not help but keep the pithy tone in her voice. "You haven't even told me how you plan on buying food from the mursashu. Assuming Mursa Shang doesn't just use the opportunity to abduct you and sell your life to the Empire."

"The mursashu pride themselves on their ability to identify and seize opportunity — even more so for a Mursa." The eyes closed in the darkness. "Arrange it, Primrose. Put your trust in me. I have something the mursashu desire; something that money cannot buy, something that the Empire cannot give."

"Something that money cannot buy…?" Her shaking hands had stopped. "Even if I do this, the Tempest blew the City Lord's Mansion to ruin. We won't be able to host them anywhere."

"There's no worry about that. Mursa Shang will accept the meeting… and I believe he will insist it be held on his ship."

***

The door closed behind Primrose and Molam leaned back in the darkness, sighing with his arm covering his eyes. The knot in his chest loosened only barely, and the recovering rib bones made him groan with pain.

But it worked. The gamble had paid off. While Primrose couldn't use her aura, he had convinced her to become a willing participant in helping him keep his greatest secret.

And all it took was a lie. A lie, just like the one the village elder had used.

His fingernails dug into his palms, but no reassuring voice echoed in his mind.