As a child, I grew up wishing my life was interesting.

Now, in my old age, I understand that it is the boring, peaceful life that I should have craved.

— Notes from Flangel the Wise's journal

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

Primrose watched the echo approach Bryce in a series of lunges that had it shifting the spear up and down, clearly intending to confuse him as to the angle from which it planned to attack. Only when the echo entered Bryce's range did the boy seem to realize that the spear itself was the feint; the shield crashed straight into him and he retreated backwards, attempting to resettle into his stance. Primrose winced at the impact; the boy hadn't flinched, but the shield bash must have jarred his shoulder.

The echo gave Bryce no chance to plant his feet firmly on the ground, barreling down on the boy with the same series of movements. Primrose could admire the footwork; from this angle, she saw the echo slide its feet forward, never truly leaving the ground as it bobbed left and right, raising and lowering the spear at unpredictable intervals.

"Why isn't Bryce attacking?" Nettie asked, tugging on Martyker's sash without taking her eyes off the fight. "He's just backing off and dodging."

"Well, he's being checked by the echo's fighting style," Martyker explained. "The spear gives it significant reach over the boy. Since the echo has a strong grasp of their space, it gets to decide the distance at which they fight. You could dodge or parry the spear, but then you have to overcome the shield. See," Martyker pointed as Bryce did exactly that, ducking under the spear and rushing up to the echo before the echo bashed downwards with the shield, Bryce's fist bouncing off it. "Unless the boy has enough explosive power to get through the shield, he probably needs some other method to overcome this."

"But the Mirror is supposed to summon a fair fight?" Nettie sounded confused.

"It is." Martyker agreed. "And at first glance, the boy is terribly outmatched. Even without weapons, the echo is taller than him and would have a longer reach with his arms and legs regardless. I wonder why the Mirror called forth this one, but alas, the leaves fall where they will."

Primrose focused her eyes, paying attention to the movement of Bryce's aura. Though he hadn't landed a single blow, only the first shield bash had probably inflicted any amount of meaningful damage. He had been careful to avoid the speartip and reinforced his body whenever he needed to defend against subsequent shield blows, a technique many warriors found difficult to master. The boy had either been trained well or was a talented natural.

The fight continued to the crowd's cheering, with Bryce having adopted a different stance that lowered his center of balance. He bounced from one foot to the other, rotating his body left and right as the echo lunged again.

The spear stabbed forward and missed; the shield bore down and met Bryce's shoulder as he reached for the echo's leg. The echo saw the grab and leapt backwards, only to realize that Bryce gripped onto the spear's shaft.

Martyker whistled with approval. "Aha."

The echo retreated half the stage's width, leaving Bryce holding onto its short spear. Bryce rotated it in his hands, testing it for himself before gripping it in his hand in a fashion similar to the echo's own.

Nettie now tugged on Primrose's sleeve. "Why did the echo give up its weapon?"

Primrose answered without looking away from the fight. "Bryce made the echo choose between keeping its weapon or being pulled into a potential grapple. I think the echo determined — correctly — that Bryce would have the full advantage if he got his hands on its leg, and the spear would be useless at such a close range anyway. So it would rather lose the spear than be put into a position where the spear not only wouldn't matter, but it would have to deal with Bryce directly."

"But doesn't Bryce have the spear now?"

"Yes." Martyker answered this time, "But whether or not that gives him an advantage depends fully on if he can use it."

Bryce took several sliding steps. Ungainly, forced, and unpracticed to Primrose's eyes, but the boy swiftly decided that he wouldn't bother with something clearly he did not know. Instead, he couched the spear in both hands and approached the echo, who stood a wary distance away with its shield held up.

Spear met shield and bounced off, with the echo dodging Bryce's swift follow-up low kick to its knees. Several more jabs were deflected or dodged, with Bryce approaching and the echo retreating. Another blocked spear jab found the echo spinning around on one heel to deliver a backhanded chop to Bryce's wrist, attempting to make him drop the spear.

"He's inexperienced with the spear," Martyker observed as Bryce retreated, still holding the spear with his off hand while shaking the injured wrist.

Primrose agreed with Martyker's sentiment. Though Bryce seemed to be trying to gain leverage with the spear's additional range, it was awkward at best when compared to the echo's earlier precise spearmanship.

The difference became evident when Bryce made a stab that the echo deflected sideways with its shield and lunged in with a straight jab. The boy batted the fist away but the echo's shield arm hooked around the spear, attempting to yank it out of his grasp. Orange aura collected around his hand and Bryce pulled harder as he leaned back — the echo let go of the spear and hopped back a few steps as Bryce's own maneuver caused him to teeter several steps backwards.

Bryce seemed to look from the spear to the echo, then back to the spear again. He inspected it for a moment before snapping it in half over his knee. The aura spear dissipated into nothingness.

A good move, Primrose thought. The boy acknowledged that he was not good enough with the weapon to use it, but would not risk his adversary regaining control of it.

Across the stage, the echo did not summon a new spear as it slunk warily around the boy, changing its grip on its shield in response to Bryce taking a new stance with squared shoulders.

Orange aura concentrated on the bottoms of Bryce's feet; next moment, he dashed forward in an explosive lunge. The echo met his charge with its shield, but Bryce opened his hand and reached for the shield's edge, prying the echo's defense to the side as he rotated a knee upwards. The echo caught the knee with a downwards elbow strike, using Bryce's attack as leverage to shove itself and the boy apart.

Bryce took a step back before pushing forward again, aiming an aura-infused punch at the echo, who raised its shield again. Once more, Bryce opened his hand and reached for the shield's edge, but this time the echo stepped forward into it, throwing an uppercut from behind the shield. Primrose winced as the blow struck Bryce's solar plexus and saw him double over in pain; from his angle, he couldn't have seen the blow coming before it was too late.

The echo gave Bryce no time to suck in air, pirouetting on one leg to strike at Bryce's head with the edge of its shield.

"It's over," said Martyker. The shield came to a halt as the audience gasped. Master Ji stood behind the echo, one hand holding firmly onto the echo's shield arm as the other pulled Bryce away by the cuff of his shirt. With a look from the Whale of ZhiXia, the echo nodded and bowed to the crowd, then dissipated into nothingness.

The announcing Priestess' voice echoed loudly throughout the Arena. "And with that, we have a wonderful conclusion to the first match of the Festival! Please encourage Bryce by showing that he should feel no shame in his loss! I daresay if the younger generation can all fight like he did, the Companions would have nothing to worry about!"

Two more Priestesses ran to the stage and began to inspect Bryce, who seemed to be trying to push them away, but was then held in place by Master Ji. Green aura flowed from one of the Priestess' hands.

"But that was… that was so sudden." Nettie's tone was full of confusion. "Nothing happened, then everything happened… and suddenly, over?"

"That's how fights sometimes are," Primrose answered softly. "Many times, it's about finding the moment to deliver the killing blow. Everything else is just about making that opportunity for yourself, while preventing the enemy from doing the same to you."

"Yes," came a voice to her right. Primrose looked up as Shurra walked over to stand next to her. "That was a good fight, for his age," Shurra spoke in her quiet voice. "But it seems the echo had a better understanding of its advantages."

Before Primrose could open her mouth to agree and ask Shurra where she had been, Martyker interrupted. “A Northerner!" he exclaimed. His voice was excited as he looked at her towering over them . "Are you from the…hmm… can't be the Red Seals…" he peered more closely, "Yellow Wolf tribe?"

Shurra ignored the man, whispering to Primrose, "I was held back by Mursa Shang. He is asking about Molam."

Primrose shook her head. "What does the Mursa want? Molam already fulfilled the Dao's bargain."

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

"The mursashu caravan has been full of talk about how they can remove DuskWing's curse and return to Mur." The Northern Warrior's lips pressed into a grim line. "If the Mursa wants to see Molam at this point, it must be because they want the Dao involved."

Primrose could only shrug. "Well, I don't know where Molam currently is. Perhaps the Mursa should ask Sanctuary."

A young Priestess walked up to Shurra, egged on by her mentor. The Priestess looked up at Shurra's large frame and spoke in a quivering voice. "I apologize for interrupting, but we have been looking for you, as you are expected to participate soon after this next one." The Priestess swallowed when Shurra turned to look at her, but did not back down. "Please. Go down to the waiting area and prepare with your weapon of choice."

Shurra and Primrose exchanged a look, then Shurra nodded to the young Priestess, who seemed relieved as she scurried back to her mentor.

"It's a good thing you're safe," Shurra murmured to Primrose. "The Dao has started a fight with the Empire and we cannot hope to continue without good leadership. Not a position I would ever want."

Primrose nodded to Shurra but did not reply lest she gave away her lack of certainty. It seemed that Shurra understood the meaning when she had admitted to not knowing where Molam currently was.

"Snow falls, but only because it seeks to become water," Martyker waved at Shurra as she left. "I look forward to seeing your fight!"

Watching Shurra leave, Primrose felt a sinking feeling of dread in her heart as the weight of Shurra's words settled in. The Dao had initiated a fight with the Empire of the Sun. The Empire may have been currently distracted with the Bloody Prince's slumber, but that would not last forever. Sooner or later, the Empire's Titled Ones would act and the Dao were hopelessly unmatched. She had confidence in her ability to lead the organization from the shadows, but their actions in JiangXi and fight with the Tempest had thrust them into the light.

Where was Molam?

***

Pleasure District

Molam had seen Festivals in other Cities, but never ZhiXia City and Sanctuary's. After he had confirmed that the bonfire was alight, he told Priestess Komura that he would spend the Festival's three days enjoying it and staying in the city in case anything happened to the rebirth process. Priestess Komura had agreed, but only after giving him a jade pendant carved in the symbol of Sanctuary, telling him that if he needed help at all, he simply needed to show it to any Priestess.

And so Molam found himself walking through the western side of ZhiXia. Savory scents swirled and swelled here, summoning the senses with sizzling dishes, steaming teas, and the intoxicating scent of spirits. If Sanctuary was for the bonfire and the Martial Arena was for the fights, then the pleasure district was certainly for people to truly celebrate their surviving another Winter's Sorrow.

Red lanterns illuminated the night, with some people stumbling throughout the streets in drunken revelry and others toasting in the direction of the bonfire. Here and there, Molam saw miniature statuettes or artful depictions of the seven Gods, depending on which one the worshiper wished to hear their prayer for this year. The most basic form of tribute took the form of incense, and the curling smoke trails dissipated into the night sky carrying the prayers of those that lit them.

His stomach rumbled; the days of eating simple fare in the Castle caught up to him as Molam found himself drawn to the nearest stall. The sign had two items: sweet or savory tofu, and Molam waited patiently in line while he watched more Festival goers walk by.

While he waited, Molam heard snippets of conversations, some funny, some sobering, and even several "talks" between people who were attempting to settle a grudge. When two people got into a scuffle, the nearby residents dove in to pull them apart; to truly fight over anything on these auspicious days was said to bring a year of bad luck to the entire city. Several pairs of Priestesses wound their way towards the area, tending to the drunkards and mediating the conversation.

"Sweet or savory?" asked the stall owner as Molam walked up.

"Savory, please. With extra spice."

"Got it." The owner plopped several tofu into the boiling pot of oil as Molam counted out his coin. "Do you want a sweet dessert to go after? We recently perfected our hazelnut tofu. Try it with a dab of soy sauce; the sweetness will be even more pronounced, if you can believe it."

Molam glanced at the covered plates resting on a bed of ice. Hazelnut tofu. He hadn't tried that before. "Fine, you've convinced me." He added two more coins to the owner's open palm.

Moments later, Molam was blowing on the freshly fried tofu in between bites as he continued walking down the street, staying close to the edge of the road to avoid unwanted collisions. Some stall owners shouted out to him, either with Festival greetings or hawking their food. Molam responded with a cheerful wave or nod to the former, and held up his tofu to the latter.

He came across a different building. Red lanterns of various shapes and sizes decorated its four floors and balconies, and a large plaque over the front entrance read HuaLang Chamber. Several large tables had been set out in front, with various helpers offering refreshments to all that passed. Molam couldn't help but notice that several of the women had flowers entwined in their hair. Somewhere, the filtered notes of a zither played harmoniously, the melody fading in and out of the chatter of the masses.

Looking at the tables specifically, he noticed that two of the tables served freshly brewed tea and the third offered alcohol. Behind the tables and the attendees stood a beautiful statue of Goddess Ustl in front of several urns full of burning incense sticks. Molam felt his lips press into a grim smile; if not for the lack of horns, he would have thought it was RainBringer's statue.

A few residents — mostly younger adults — walked up to the attendees and asked for incense to add their prayers to the mix. Molam imagined that they asked Goddess Ustl to bless their love lives, though a few older women seemed to be praying for children.

He walked up himself; the tofu, while delicious, had left him thirsty. One of the boys at the tea table waved to him, "Satem, leymint, or tieguanyin?"

"Leymint, thank you." Though he was surprised at the establishment offering free tieguanyin, Molam wanted to wash the oily taste off his tongue. The boy filled a cup and handed it to him, reminding Molam to return the cup when done.

For some reason, wetting his gullet only made Molam want more. He lined up for the sole table offering free alcohol, gazing curiously at the three women behind the tables serving the masses. Even the one with short hair had several flowers embedded in her hair and a chain of interlinked flowers around her neck.

"And what would you like, young master?" asked the woman offering alcohol. Her curly brown hair seemed entangled with purple flowers. "We have Chamber-brewed chambanga ale, spiced mead, and pomberry wine."

Molam pointed at the chambanga ale, and the woman poured some into a cup and offered it to him. "Happy Festival of the Hero! May the Gods bless you this year!"

"And you as well," Molam nodded as he stepped off to the side of the street as he sipped at the ale. Its sweet, fruity fragrance easily smoothed over the lingering taste of fried tofu, and the tart finish made him pair it with the sweet tofu dessert. Molam decided the subtle aroma of hazelnut paired well with the smooth mouthfeel and gentle effervescence of the ale.

The melody of the zither flowed throughout the air, and several people seemed to recognize the tune as they danced along. Molam listened, not truly understanding music but having a healthy appreciation for the feelings the melody evoked in him. He wished he had listened to his mentor when they had tried to teach him music, but a younger Molam hadn't been very enthusiastic.

Having finished the cup of ale, Molam walked back up to the tables from the sidelines and placed his finished cups in a collection tray. As he did so, a younger boy ran out of the Chamber, whispering to the woman who had offered him chambanga ale. Molam caught their glance towards him and took that as his cue to leave.

He turned and found himself flanked by two other women wearing flowers in their hair; they were the ones tending to the tables earlier. When had they moved behind him? Moreover, how had he not heard them? Somewhere, the zither's music had changed its tune for a different, alluring melody.

"Young master." A singsong voice came from behind him. Molam turned again and found the woman he’d seen earlier standing a few steps away. She had left her place at the table. Up close, he couldn't recognize the purple flowers, but the way the three women wore flowers in their hair reminded him only of Primrose. "Our Madam has extended an invitation for you to join her for tea."

A Madam. Molam looked up at the building of HuaLang Chamber again, then flickered his eyes back to the woman in front of him. "Thank you for the invitation, but I'm simply trying to enjoy the Festival. If you'll excuse me…"

A hand hooked his arm and Molam looked to see one of the women smiling at him, then a sharp pain pierced his neck from the other side. His legs went limp; Molam collapsed into their arms as the three women milled around him.

"Too much chambanga ale, methinks. Our Chamber does brew the best!"

"Don't worry, don't worry, he's only drunk!"

"Happy Festival of the Hero! May good fortune find you this year!"

"We'll give him a place to rest, don't you worry."

Molam tried to open his mouth but found that nothing moved. Fear and terror set in when the woman with purple flowers looked down at him and gave him a smile while she picked up his limp body.

"Don't worry, young master." Up close, her lips were cherry red and Molam smelled a citrusy scent in her sweet perfume. "You're in soft hands."

***

Outskirts of ZhiXia City

Rei watched the black pixiu circle above the Slumbering Forest with its rider. What had been his name again? UnSeen Yao-ren? An anima with a Title, much like Sophisyas. But unlike Sophisyas, this one had only two bonds and revealed his inexperience fighting another Titled One during their encounter.

"I don't think we should be hiding from him," she whispered to Roxxa. The pixiu had been clearly looking for them during the day, and the owl hunted at night. The three of them had broken camp and relocated, hiding as much of their tracks as they could, but Rei had not escaped from Jett's paperwork to play a waiting game. "There's three of us. We could easily deal with the upstart."

Roxxa shook her head. "It runs the risk of alerting ZhiXia and in turn, the Whale. We are better off letting him continue his fruitless search."

"I dislike this sort of skullduggery."

"You merely have little patience for hunting. Now hush." Roxxa pointed at Desmi. He stood quietly in the middle of their newest makeshift camp with the tip of his harpoon buried into the ground, eyes closed in concentration. Even with the Sight, Rei wouldn't have noticed the slow pulses as they traveled along the ground if she wasn't looking for Desmi's aura.

"Kymja's made contact." Desmi announced, eyes still closed. His thick brows furrowed. Rei imagined the connection between him and Kymja to be extremely faint if they didn't want the Whale of ZhiXia to find out. "She's been shadowing the Prodigy for some time now, but the Prodigy is relatively well-protected."

Roxxa leaned forward. Even sitting on the log, her head towered above Rei, who was standing. Though Rei did not get along with the Northerner, she acknowledged Roxxa's ability to make good judgments. Ruskru must have shared her opinion if he’d made Roxxa the leader of their group.

"Does Kymja have an opening to take the Prodigy?"

Desmi closed his eyes. To Rei's Sight, the man's yellow aura traveled through his harpoon to dissipate into the ground, pulsing towards ZhiXia City. When it pulsed back, he opened his eyes.

"Not without a fight with the Whale."