If I cannot be the sun that brightens your day, then I will be the moon that lights up your darkest nights.

— Unsigned calligraphy in a style of the Old Tongue around the founding of the Empire of the Sun. Stored in the archives of the Fallen Star Pavilion.

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

Primrose found Dahlia on the floor of Earthly Wants, just where Madam Scarlette said she would be. Incense permeated the room; Primrose recognized the scent of lemongrass and chamomile.

Dahlia looked up swiftly upon Primrose's entering, eyebrow raised with a hand behind her back. The brown-skinned woman wore body-fitting clothes, with long sleeves and tight leggings. The tight clothes minimized the chance of her movements disturbing any of the needles sticking into the neck and back of the man laying face down on the table.

"Who is it?" The man asked, his voice muffled.

Dahlia gave Primrose a questioning look. Primrose held up Agytha's nameplate, then signaled that she had permission to be here.

"One of our Flowers is here to learn by watching." Dahlia brushed her brown ponytail to the side without disturbing any of the bright purple flowers strewn throughout her bushy hair. "I hope you don't mind an observer, Lord Gihan?"

"It's fine." The man grunted into his pillow.

Primrose took a second glance. She had heard the Lord of Exabell to be a man of many vices, but his relatively normal build belied the rumors of his appetite. Though she could only see his back, the slightly mottled, olive-colored skin did not seem loose. Was it a different Gihan?

Dahlia spoke softly, her relatively deep voice a relaxing whisper. "She came at just the right time. We are done relaxing the muscles in your back, Lord Gihan, and I will be showing her the correct placement of needles for stimulating the memory and improving your sleep." She caught Primrose's unasked question, and continued as she began pulling needles out of the man's back. "I am sure that running Exabell must be an exhausting endeavor for you to need such treatment so early this Spring's Blessings."

"It's been a particularly rough Winter's Sorrow," the Lord of Exabell murmured, his breathing audible as Dahlia removed the thin needles and deposited them into a tray. "Trade between the Free Cities and the Empire has been intermittent at best ever since last Summer's Warmth. Exabell almost ran out of salt. Can you imagine that? I had to distribute salt-cured meat from my personal stores as a replacement."

"I'm certain your people are grateful for your visionary foresight," Dahlia crooned as she wiped down the man's back with a warm towel. "It must be why you're here today to satisfy an Earthly Want."

"I certainly want to sleep better. It helps me think with clarity."

"Of course," Dahlia covered the man's naked back with the blanket, then unrolled a new packet of needles. "I will begin now. Let me know if any needle feels uncomfortable, and please talk about anything you like. That way I can also find the meridians that may be blocked."

"Alright then. What should I — ah."

Dahlia let go of the needle she had just inserted into the back of the man's head. "Is it too deep, Lord Gihan?"

"Not particularly; just a place I didn't expect."

"I will touch the places before I place the needles, then." Primrose watched Dahlia expertly slide two needles at different angles into the sides of the man's neck, just below the ears. "Please, continue talking about anything."

"Well now, Dahlia, you've put me on the spot. It can be difficult to think of a new topic in the moment…"

"Perhaps anything on your mind?" Dahlia suggested, "Something that troubles you — that may help. Are there things that ail you while you lay down waiting for God Yven to send dreams?"

Another needle slid in, and Primrose seemed to see the moment the Lord of Exabell's muscles relaxed. "I can only think of the recent envoy from the Empire of the Sun, I suppose."

Dahlia and Primrose exchanged a swift look. Primrose took a step closer as Dahlia picked up another needle. While there was no doubt that Dahlia's acupuncture would alleviate Lord Gihan's problems, Primrose guessed that at least two of the needles were intended to relax the Lord's guard and put him in a divulging mood.

"What message did the envoy bring that ails you, Lord Gihan?" Dahlia inserted another needle, a finger-width above the man's ear. "I thought Exabell had a peaceful treaty with the Empire."

"Of course we do. But part of the treaty also respects some of the Empire's wants." Lord Gihan's voice seemed relaxed as well. "The envoy wanted me to be on alert for … for the Prodigy."

Primrose gestured an urgent signal at Dahlia.

"Why the Prodigy?" Dahlia asked. "The current Prodigy… isn't she a little girl from Techoria?"

"Ah, perhaps you haven't heard of it yet in ZhiXia." Lord Gihan's voice carried a tone of amusement. "Techoria has been destroyed."

Primrose pressed her lips together. Kalle and Molam had guessed as much from the Bright Night, but finally having confirmation was another matter entirely. Dahlia feigned practiced surprise. "By the Gods, really? Did the Empire do it? We've heard rumors that the Empire passed by on their way to Techoria."

"No, the SunFlower did," Lord Gihan corrected. "The Empire's army arrived, yes, but they never commenced their attack."

That was new. Primrose exchanged a silent look with Dahlia, who prepared another needle. "The alchemists of Techoria destroyed their own city?"

"Well, does it matter who? The Prodigy is supposed to be the only survivor." Another needle made Lord Gihan grunt. "That one hurts."

Dahlia readjusted the needle with a deft pull. "Is that better?"

"Yes."

"Don't neglect talking, so we can make sure nothing is going where it shouldn't be." Dahlia pressed another needle into Gihan's scalp. "Why is the Empire looking for the Prodigy?"

"Well, the current Prodigy is Flangel the Wise's granddaughter. I've heard she outpaces even him in matters of alchemy." Lord Gihan paused with a grunt, and Dahlia readjusted the needle. "Perhaps the Empire wants to bring her to their side while she is still young. You know how the Prince takes an interest in promising individuals."

Dahlia had finished her work. The Lord of Exabell lay there, covered by a blanket with multiple needles gleaming from his head. Primrose recalled seeing his nameplate on the wall, but near the very bottom. A person of interest, but not someone whose life they should claim. Still useful enough to keep alive, or Madam Scarlette would have ordered otherwise given he was in their very Chamber.

Gathering up some of her tools, Dahlia lit another incense stick, blowing on it gently so that the flame smoldered. "It seems all the needles are in their place, Lord Gihan. We will need to keep it there for the duration of this incense stick. Would you prefer tranquil peace or some music?"

The Lord of Exabell's muffled voice came slowly. "Silence, so I can rest my thoughts."

"As you wish," Dahlia gestured at Primrose. "I will be answering my sister's questions about the techniques I just applied for you, but we will only be outside. We will return in time to remove the needles."

"Bring me water afterwards."

"It will be done," Dahlia and Primrose bowed out of the room.

***

Outside of the room, Primrose flagged down the nearest Petal. "A cup and a jug of water," she said. The Petal masked her surprise, then nodded and walked away in the direction of the kitchens.

"It's been some time, Prim." Dahlia stretched her legs and lower back, conversing with Primrose in hushed tones. "Didn't know you came back. And to claim a nameplate too."

"There wasn't much time to send word." Primrose shrugged, pulling out the nameplate, handing it to Dahlia before joining her in stretches. "I believe you're still taking these for the Chamber."

Dahlia stuffed it into a pocket as she changed stance. "What shall it go towards? The usual?"

"No." After a moment, Primrose changed her stretching pose then murmured, "Half for my brethren. Half for any survivors of Techoria." She leaned into the stretch, feeling her limbs tremble. "If you can find any."

"I'll see to it," Dahlia responded softly. "The Roots are already searching."

They stretched in silence, falling into a nostalgic and familiar routine. Primrose bent down to touch her toes, but realized she could not fully grab her feet the way Dahlia could. Madam Scarlette had been right; she had been neglecting her exercises.

Primrose broke the silence, curious about Dahlia's last interaction with the patron. "Dahl. Did you know the Lord of Exabell would want silence?"

"Did you already forget everything with needles after you earned your Flowers?" The brown-skinned Flower chuckled, pointing to an area around the back of her neck. "The ones here make people sleepy and in a mood to say whatever comes to mind." She dropped the tone in her voice further, glancing up at Primrose from her stretching position low to the ground. "I've been waiting for you to talk, but I suppose I'll just ask you. Tell me what alarmed you about Lord Gihan's mentioning of the Prodigy."

Primrose gave Dahlia a brief update about her time in JiangXi, telling Dahlia to get the full scope from Madam Scarlette. Dahlia listened quietly, her bright amber eyes narrowing at the mentioning of how the Prodigy was brought to JiangXi and entrusted into the care of the Dao.

"It sounds like she's running from the Empire, then," Dahlia observed. "Or at least, she wants to go somewhere. Or maybe she doesn't know either, because she's a child? She's supposed to be…what, five? Six?"

Primrose shook her head. "You haven't met her, so you don't really understand. She only looks like a child."

"I'd say only five or six Sorrows makes one a child. It's when the Sorrows begin to blend together that you realize you're an adult."

Opening her mouth, Primrose paused, then sighed. "Like I said: meet her, Dahl, and you will understand."

"How mysterious," Dahlia murmured in a singsong voice. "I just might need to see for myself, then."

The Petal sidled up to them, handing Primrose a jug full of water and a cup. She bowed meekly, peeking up at the two of them from behind her frizzy brown hair graced with three pink petals. Talented orphans picked up by the Chamber were given the chance to earn their Flowers by mastering all five of the Paths before they became an adult, but success was rare. Primrose watched the Petal straighten and walk away while practicing the silent steps; the careful movement of her legs made her stride too rigid.

"Don't stare; it makes you look like a lecherous man." Dahlia poked Primrose slightly.

"She seems old for a Petal." Primrose rummaged in a nearby cabinet for a tray and tablecloth for the jug. "Did she start late?"

"I recognize her. She's still working on earning her final two Petals. You saw her steps." Dahlia shrugged, folding the tablecloth neatly in half to spread it over the tray. "Scarlette is thinking of dissuading her from the path she's chosen, but I see her peeking at the Flowers in the Courtyard of Thorns." Dahlia held out the tray for Primrose. "Why? Are you thinking of accepting a Bud?"

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

"Good heavens, no." Primrose put the jug on the tray, set down a ceramic coaster, then carefully arranged the cup on top so that the floral design would be facing the patron. "I was just thinking: Not so long ago, we were also earning our Flowers, looking up to the generation before us. And now the next generation is here, preparing for the same thing." Primrose inspected the cup's placement, then looked at Dahlia. "Don't you think that means we failed?"

Dahlia hefted the tray's weight, then nodded and jutted her chin at the door. Primrose opened it for her, the scent of incense wafting out from within. "I don't think we failed yet, Prim. It's more of an ongoing thing, isn't it? But I know what you mean — I also hope that one day, Petals won't need to learn our skills."

Primrose followed Dahlia back into the room, thinking about the events in Techoria and the change the Dao had already wrought in JiangXi. What was she waiting for? Molam had given her his reasoning back in JiangXi, and it made sense. But was it the right course of action?

"I hope that day comes soon."

***

"Nettie thanks you for offering Sanctuary as a new home, but Nettie must decline." Nettie drew herself up to her full height, just slightly below Master Ji's knee. "Nettie insists on going to the Fallen Star Pavilion."

"If you insist on leaving Sanctuary, you will need some guardians." The Oracle's eyes glittered at Nettie from behind the mask. "I am certain you understand the Empire is looking for you. As I am indebted to your grandfather and hope you arrive safely, I hope you accept Ji's protection on the way."

Nettie tried to not let the surprise overcome her face. "It will be nice. Nettie enjoys walking with Master Ji."

"However, Ji needs to stay to oversee the Festival of the Hero for me. It will take place in two weeks, but if you are in a hurry I am certain Yao-ren can see you safely to the Pavilion by himself."

Nettie looked up at GloomSire, whose deep blue eyes looked down at her. Turning back to the Oracle, Nettie took a breath then said, "Nettie can wait for two weeks. Nettie would like to see the Festival of the Hero too."

"Good." The Oracle shook out a sleeve, then held up a ring. Nettie squinted, then dug her hands into her pockets. How had the Oracle taken GrandFather's Ring? "Now on to this matter: I believe this belonged to Flangel."

Realizing her fists had clenched in her empty pockets, Nettie first tried to relax her hands before she slowly pulled them out. GrandFather had told Nettie to keep it away from the Oracle. "That is GrandFather's Ring," she said quietly. "Please return it to Nettie."

"I have a question, Prodigy." The ring, a gold band with a ruby inset, glittered in the Oracle's fingers as she turned it around, inspecting it. The Oracle's gaze flickered back to Nettie, taking on a heavy pressure. "Does it contain the blueprints to the SunFlower?"

The sheer weight of the look made Nettie recoil. "Yes."

The gaze narrowed, and did not let up. "Do you know the blueprints to the SunFlower?"

For the first time, Nettie heard an inflection in the Oracle's voice. The tone had changed compared to the Oracle's previous monotone—not too demanding, not quite a command, but a question that expected an answer.

"Yes," Nettie whispered.

"Could you build one?"

The Oracle's gaze lifted, bringing Nettie enough respite to think. "Not without the right tools and materials," Nettie finally answered. "Nettie would need another city like Techoria. Maybe Zaem."

A cold sensation crawled up Nettie's spine; she felt the Oracle's gaze return. For a moment, Nettie saw the Oracle's glow flicker. Or had Nettie blinked? The difference was hard to tell; as though the shadows greedily claimed everything in the absence of the light. Nettie looked around, trying to see if Master Ji or GloomSire had reacted at all, but… nothing. Had she blinked? Before the thought finished, the sensation had already disappeared.

"Then it is a good thing that Zaem is in a different direction from the Pavilion." The Oracle nodded once to Master Ji, who bowed his grizzled head. "Sanctuary will arrange for your safety while you stay for the Festival."

The Oracle managed to speak in a dismissing manner without changing her tone. Nettie would have been impressed, if she could just shake off the sensation of the Oracle's gaze from earlier. Master Ji turned around, a gentle mountain, offering Nettie a hand, but Nettie stepped forward again.

"Wait." Eager as she was to be away from the cold darkness of the Inner Sanctum, Nettie nevertheless needed to do one more thing.

"The Ring." Nettie held out her hands. Though it was perhaps too late; far too late. GrandFather had told Nettie not to allow the Oracle to take the ring. But Nettie could still get it back. "Please return GrandFather's Ring."

"You already have it," the Oracle replied.

"Nettie does —?" Nettie looked at her hand and saw the gleaming band around her index finger. Clutching her hand closed, Nettie retracted her hands back into her cloak as she checked the Ring. Everything was where it should be — GrandFather's remaining aura sealing the Ring remained untouched. Had the Oracle left it unbroken? Was that why she asked whether the SunFlower's design was inside?

Remembering her manners, Nettie bowed slightly, keeping her sight on the Oracle. "Nettie thanks you."

"You are quite welcome."

Master Ji offered Nettie his hand again, and Nettie allowed him to put her on his shoulder. Even as Master Ji and GloomSire turned to walk out of the Inner Sanctum, Nettie rotated herself to keep her eyes on the solitary figure glowing in the middle of the dais. The Oracle's posture remained unchanged, and Nettie could not see the eyes behind that dragon mask.

The glow did not flicker again. The darkness of the Inner Sanctum stayed far, far away from that dais.

***

Castle in the Sky, several days later

Molam stared up into the darkness in his room. After the phoenix had declared him free, he had spent the last few days in the Castle alone, trying to collect his thoughts. But what was there even to collect? What did that even mean, free? Did that mean he hadn't been beforehand?

The acknowledgment that he had done enough to repay RainBringer for her grudging upbringing left Molam with a sense of wistful ennui, as though all of his experiences so far had not been wholly his own. The thoughts filled him with anger and disappointment; he spent his days reading and pacing the Castle's empty halls by himself, trying to understand what it was that caused such a sensation of loss.

If this was freedom, why did it feel so confusing? Why did it not feel more… freeing?

Molam could not understand.

Worse still, the Library's door had been locked when he tried it. It had never been locked before.

That one's always preferred its solitude when you needed it. The phoenix's voice echoed in his mind as Molam tried the Library again. The doors did not budge. When he asked the Castle's caretaker spirits, they said that his mentor had closed the Library.

RainBringer's journey must have gone far, for she had not returned since she left, the day after they spoke. Knowing he could at least walk through the Castle's halls without feeling cowed by her gaze brought Molam a shred of relief. Five years had passed, but some things never changed.

The days passed in silence with Molam slowly rearranging his room, and when he was done, rereading what scrolls and books he could still access. He could appreciate going back to written works he once found familiar, and enjoyed discovering new angles and facets to ideas he once thought he fully understood. There was a certain sense of rediscovery that seemed to affirm that his thoughts had grown if he could revisit old topics with new perspectives, and Molam cherished that feeling.

Every day, Molam still made a walk to the Library, wondering if his mentor would unlock the door and allow him to borrow new material, even if they did not want to see him specifically. The door never opened, and the phoenix seemed annoyed that Molam would try every day.

Every night, Molam tossed and turned as he struggled to sleep. The Oracle's question echoed in the darkness around him each time. And if that piece is a child? It bore a pounding hole into his thoughts, worsened by the answer he had given before it. The answer his village elder had once decided.

How could he? He had thought about that moment for so long, attempted to bury it so many times that he knew it better than anything else. All he had wanted then was for someone to speak up, for someone to have defended him. Did Nettie have anyone like that? Would anyone challenge the Oracle's decision?

The day came when Molam walked to the front of the Library's door to see a book floating in the air. He walked up to it, seeing an old copy of the Companions' fable flipped open to a faded page with a verdant aura shimmering through some of the words.

"They do care, after all." Molam smiled as he walked up, reading the emphasized section.

Bah. The phoenix materialized on his shoulder, lowering its neck as it read with Molam. Not even showing themselves. Such insincerity.

"My mentor most likely doesn't want to be pestered with my endless questions. And maybe they don't want to see you either?"

My brilliance is blinding. The phoenix preened itself smugly, then peered around the book, as though something else should be here. Or at least, I would be able to give better advice than this. Really now: "Heaven seemed so far up the Stairs, yet the Hero and his Companions did what they could. They began with a single step." It paused, then shrugged. Is that supposed to be helpful?

Molam closed the book, feeling the book's weight sink into his hand as the aura sustaining its levitation dissipated. He meditated in the moment on those words, feeling his lungs expand with air as his thoughts spun, trying to understand his mentor's meaning. When he could no longer keep the breath in his chest, he exhaled. "It's enough."

Book in hand, Molam walked back to his room and began packing up some of his necessities.

What are you doing? Asked the spirit. Are you going somewhere now?

"'They began with a single step.'"

Unlike the Companions, you are already up the Stairs.

"That's not what this is supposed to mean," Molam responded, rearranging things in his pack. "'Heaven seemed so far' — that means what I want is far. And I know what I want — to go see the Princess at the Black Pyramid. But I cannot fly and RainBringer would not want me there, so there's no point in trying to make that journey at this very moment. So instead, I thought about all the things I can do and chose the one I want to do the most. 'They began with a single step,' after all."

This seems like logic for those with fleeting lives.

"Would you like to share with me the logic of immortals, then?" Molam stopped packing, looking at the phoenix. "If you were me, what would you do in my place?"

I… well, I doubt my wisdom would be helpful to a human. The phoenix shuffled its feet on his shoulder, not making eye contact. So, what is it you are about to do?

"Finish what I didn't. Maybe clean up some of my mess."

…you cannot be serious. This is where you wanted to be.

"RainBringer was being difficult, but this feels so… so aimless. I sit here drinking water, eating burnt tribute, reading what isn't in the Library, and playing dragon chess against the spirits. My mentor is right: I need to keep moving." And if he wasn't too late, a child needed saving. But Molam kept that thought to himself.

If food is the issue, I am sure the caretaker spirits can arrange for—

"That's not the main issue." Sealing his pack closed, Molam slung it over his shoulder. "I hate to admit it, but the Oracle was right. My shortsightedness with JiangXi will cause problems to others and it needs to be addressed." He looked at the unstrung bow on his wall, then shook his head. "Well, the first thing I need to do is see through your rebirth. You know, I've seen quite a bit during my five years of traveling, but the one thing I never experienced was Sanctuary's Festival of the Hero."

That is your choice? To see a Festival?

"To also help you with your rebirth while I'm at it. And why not? It's my choice to do what I want now, and I've decided I'm going to see the Festival I've heard so much about." After a moment, he added, "And there's something I need to speak to the Oracle about."

This seems… inconsistent with my memories of you. The feather wrapped around his wrist flared and the phoenix took its ethereal form on his shoulder, peering curiously at Molam. Have you lost your sanity in just a week's time?

"I am perfectly fine," Molam left his room, walking down towards the Castle's terrace at a brisk pace. "And if you have my memories, you should know that —"

"Consistent adaptability is the one true strength." The spirit finished. Yes, yes, I know that one's mantra.

"Well if you know that, you'll find that I'm being perfectly consistent." Molam passed through the gates, waving at the gold and silver armors. "At least, you weren't expecting me to just live out my life in the Castle, right?"

I did not know what you would want to do, but all I wanted to do was give you the choice.

"And I appreciate that." Molam saw the Stairs from afar. "I really do."

Should you not think through your decision before you go back down? The Oracle might not open the Stairs for you again.

"That's fine. You already told me before I came up here, but I had to really experience living in the Castle without her to know that this isn't where I want to be." Molam walked up to the Stairs. "Is this not to your benefit? You seem very worried about my decision."

It is more comforting to know you would help, but I am worried about you, Molam. This is a very swift decision.

"But that's the point! Just like how I needed to make a swift decision when I found out the Dao had a traitor, I need to act fast this time too. Perhaps this might be a swift decision to you, but as a mortal with a fleeting life, I don't have the luxury of waiting to decide." And if I don't, I may end up regretting the results, he thought to himself. He remembered Nettie's bright eyes framed against her face's dark skin, the way she constantly looked about during their trip back to ZhiXia City. The Oracle's question echoed in his mind again. And if that piece is a child? His own answer haunted him.

I think you are going through a very human experience, the spirit observed. One where every human yearns to rest but become restless when they do. You know, it doesn't hurt to rest for a bit after half a decade of work. Perhaps if you —

"Hush, Fiery One. Be supportive for once." Taking a deep breath, Molam stepped onto the Stairs, which glowed into life as he touched it. He watched its shimmering glow disappear high above the Castle and down into YiZhi Mountain.

I am supportive. The spirit's voice seemed indignant. This is where hatchlings jump and learn to fly.

Molam bit back a retort. "'They began with a single step,'" he reminded himself, then began walking down the Stairs.