Be grounded with your thoughts, but curious with where the ground truly is.

— Excerpt from the journal of Flangel the Wise

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Sanctuary, orphanage

Muted chaos greeted Molam as soon as he walked into Sanctuary's orphanage. Four frazzled Priestesses oversaw more than three dozen children, loosely separated by their age groups. Priestess Komura and Priestess Shantayla stood to the side with three children, two boys and a girl. The younger Priestess was kneeling with one of the boys, who was crying, while the other two wore glum faces as Priestess Komura gave them a lecture.

Molam looked over the place, guessing that some four or five of the children were new, judging by the way they lingered by themselves.

"Are you here to play?"

Molam looked down, seeing a young boy hold a ball up to him. Short black hair, with a missing front tooth. The boy couldn't have seen more than ten Sorrows.

"No," Molam replied, kneeling down so their eyes were at the same height. "I don't have time to play, unfortunately. I'm waiting for Priestess Komura and Priestess Shantayla."

"Oh. They aren't fun. I'm going to go find someone who will play." The boy sauntered off, then kicked the ball and ran after it. Molam tried to smile encouragingly as he watched three other children congregate around the ball, which swiftly turned into taking turns kicking it into the wall. A Priestess descended upon them in mere moments, impressing upon them the difficulty of cleaning the wall. Molam smiled at the antics, then a feeling of guilt rose up his chest and he tasted a hint of bile; he looked away.

They're here because of my mistakes, the thought leapt unbidden into his mind. He attempted to dismiss it, but could not refute the thought. Molam stood up and leaned against a wall, staring at the stone without seeing it. He grimaced, feeling the list of names he kept weighing down in his pocket. Of course he had to think of the reason why they were here. How else had they lost their parents? Was it not because he had caused the OutCast to summon a Titled echo?

His decisions had left others with the consequences. He was the one at fault — the OutCast had made it very clear she hadn't wanted to escalate the situation further. All Molam needed to do was offer up his life and the past few days could have all been avoided. These young lives could have been unchanged.

What had been the point? The Empire had obtained Flangel's Ring in the end, which only delayed their obtaining the SunFlower. The sensation of bile burned, and Molam swallowed saliva, trying to soothe it. The acrid taste subsided, leaving him only with the lingering aftertaste of failure.

Yes, that was the word.

Failure.

The word echoed in his thoughts as Molam tried to accept that he was the one standing here. One name instead of the four hundred that made up the list in his pocket. Did the same feeling of failure burn in the Whale of ZhiXia's chest when his Domain accounted for all the lost lives? Was this why Master Ji intended to face the vote? Should Molam do the same? Was he the one in the wrong, and should he submit himself to a public trial as well? What would the Oracle think? On the other hand, would her opinion matter? He was free, which meant he was free to choose his own method of atonement, no? But then —

A hand smacked his back, disrupting his thoughts. Bony fingers gripped his ear, pulling him around to face Priestess Komura's disapproving face.

"I taught you to stand straight, Molam. Or are you going to let an old woman like me show you what a spine is for?"

Eyes watering at the pain in his ear, Molam saw Priestess Shantayla standing a pace behind the elderly Priestess, covering her mouth with a hand at Priestess Komura's rough treatment of him. The two Priestesses must have been working hard the past few days — Molam noticed dark smudges on their usually pristine white robes, evidence that they hadn't found the time to maintain the proper appearance of a Priestess. He relaxed his hands and shoulders, holding up his open palms in a sign of defeat, only for Priestess Komura to yank his earlobe down even further, threatening to tear it off.

"Is it right for a man in your position to give up so easily? Is that how you set an example for the Dao?"

"I wouldn't be setting a good example for the children if they saw me responding to an elderly woman with force," Molam tried to grin through blurry eyes; the aging Priestess did not go gently on his ear.

"Hmm. A passing excuse, but not a convincing one," Priestess Komura did not release him. "And what would you do if I refused to release you?"

Molam gripped her wrist despite himself, such was the pain in his earlobe. "I don't want to set a poor example, Priestess Komura."

"Again — if I refuse?"

The pain was becoming too much to bear, and Molam's grip tightened over her wrist. He could wrench her hand away, or dig his nails into the area between her tendons. "I don't want to hurt you, Priestess Komura. Please don't."

"So indecisive when not sitting in front of a chess board," the Priestess sounded almost disappointed when she let go. "Priestess Shantayla here says you were drowning in your emotions, and I can guess why. I heard about everything, and now you believe it's your fault."

Molam said nothing, standing straight again and rubbing at his sore ear, which itched and healed. Priestess Shantayla's nose twitched, then she looked at him and gave a timid but knowing smile.

"If you're not going to respond, then I'm going to be direct." A finger jabbed at Molam's chest. "Sometimes, we're forced to choose and we do the best we can. Do you understand, Molam? Look at me when I'm talking to you." Molam winced at the tone, meeting Priestess Komura's gaze. She continued, "Don't blame yourself when you didn't intend for any of this to happen."

"I thought you were the one who told me we judge ourselves by intentions, others by results. Regardless of intent, it happened because of me. Shouldn't I…" he swallowed, then continued, "Shouldn't I be judging myself by the results of my failure?"

"And now you are thinking something silly? Perhaps thinking it would be better if you had offered the OutCast your head?" The Priestess flicked his forehead. "Do you think appeasement would work? You play such splendid dragon chess, you tell me if that strategy would be effective."

A moment later, "No," he sighed, now rubbing his forehead, then added, "It would probably be worse in the long run. The Oracle could pick another vessel, but the reason she gave me her color in the first place was because I—"

A finger on his nose and a curt shake of the head silenced him from continuing. Her gaze softened, then the Priestess pulled Molam close, enveloping him in a strong hug, belying her image of an older woman. "Don't lose yourself, Molam. You're still young, so let me tell you: sometimes there are no right choices. Reality isn't the same as the stories, do you understand?" A hand pressed against the back of Molam's head. "If I had refused to let go of your ear, you would have been forced to respond with force. Your experience with the OutCast's actions are no different. You did the best you could do."

"Even if it makes me a hypocrite?" His eyes watered with a different pain as he attempted to return the hug with one hand, his other scrunching up the list in his pocket. Four hundred names, but it was more than that. Several children ran around in the orphanage, a reminder of what the names had left behind. "How do I live with the burden of knowing what my life cost?"

Priestess Komura gave him an understanding look, then stepped to the side and beckoned towards Priestess Shantayla. "Well?"

The younger Priestess looked at her mentor with wide, surprised eyes, then shook her head. Priestess Komura sighed, "Just speak to Molam as you would a child."

"This was my twenty-sixth Sorrow, you know."

"Yes, and I taught you how to use chopsticks properly, when you were almost a man," Priestess Komura responded, then pulled Priestess Shantayla closer. "The child here has survivor's guilt. Any suggestions, Priestess Shantayla?"

The younger Priestess fidgeted with her hands while looking at her feet. "I… think… um…" She murmured something long and unintelligible.

Molam looked at Priestess Komura with a raised eyebrow.

The Priestess sighed, then patted Priestess Shantayla on the shoulder. "Go find Nettie. Molam came here to speak to her in the first place."

They watched her hurry away with a look of relief before Priestess Komura spoke up. "My mentee says you need to forgive yourself and accept that it happened. If you toss away your life because you don't believe your survival is deserved, then they truly would have died for nothing. Understand?"

A ball rolled near them, and Molam nudged it back towards the children who came after it. "I think so. I'll need some time to think about this." He paused. "Is that what it's called? Survivor's guilt?"

"Yes."

Silence fell between them as they watched the children kicking the ball. Then Molam said, "Jiovanny's dead."

"I know," Priestess Komura rolled the ball back towards the children when it came towards them this time. "I identified him. He shielded several others with his body when the buildings came down."

Of course he would, thought Molam. That was how he remembered the man. "His shop…?"

"Will be passed on to his apprentice. A young man named Larik. Jiovanny was proud of him."

Molam saw Priestess Shantayla coming back towards them, holding hands with a bleary-eyed Nettie. "I suppose I'll need to take time to understand these thoughts. For now, I'll need to deal with the matters at hand."

"As you should," Priestess Komura nodded, then added in a stern tone, "But don't get lost in your thoughts again, do you hear?" She frowned, brushing at his unkempt hair. "I tire of burying my children, Molam. God Yven gets more time with them than I do."

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"Nettie was enjoying a nap," the little girl complained before covering her mouth as she yawned. "Is there juice?"

Molam looked at Priestess Shantayla, who nodded and walked off, presumably for juice. Priestess Komura had gone back to help the other Priestesses, leaving Priestess Shantayla to accompany Molam and Nettie to a relatively private corner. He squatted on a wooden stool clearly made for children, hunkering over a short table, while Nettie sat properly opposite him.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"I was hoping you could look at these runes, Nettie." Molam spread out the four runes copied from the book. "Could you explain what they are for, and how they would work together?"

"Juice first?"

"Priestess Shantayla is coming with the juice," Molam promised. He hoped he was right.

"Hmm," Nettie pondered his words, and Molam wondered if the young Titled One could use either the Sight or something similar to differentiate lies. She then pulled the drawings close, tapping a finger on the runes as she inspected them. "This collects aura, but only one type. It will ignore any aura it has seen before. This one counts the aura types. And these," she frowned, looking at Molam's copies, "are drawn poorly. Nettie thinks this one is for synchronizing the first symbol across multiple places. And this other one is…" she squinted, "Nettie thinks it is either for buttering bread or showing a number count for display on a mirror. It could be either."

Molam grimaced at the child's less-than-impressed review of his drawings. "Put together, can they be used for counting a vote by the people?"

"Yes," Nettie confirmed, then looked up expectantly as Priestess Shantayla returned with cups in hand. "Juice!"

So it was true. Molam reviewed the runes as the Priestess handed out the cups. Sipping from his cup — apple juice, tart and sweet — he contemplated the possibilities and discarded them one by one. Time was the biggest problem here. Whatever he could come up with would be limited by the amount of time he had to work with. Resources, knowledge, and means.

Priestess Shantayla sat down to his right, nursing her own cup. The Priestess had opted to cross her ankles slightly so that her knees were not jutting above the table, and Molam copied her.

"Thank you for the drinks," Molam said. "Don't you need to help Priestess Komura with the children?"

The Priestess shook her head, then murmured something. Molam still could not hear, so he leaned closer, only for the Priestess to lean away.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, shifting back. "But I couldn't hear what you said."

The Priestess' cheeks puffed out ever so slightly, a sign of frustration. Then she met Molam's gaze and leaned closer. "I can see Priestess Komura from here. She said… to offer you my ear."

"Nettie is here too," the girl burbled with a smile. "Being confined to Sanctuary makes Nettie bored. Nettie knows! Nettie can teach you runecarving!" She tapped the runes he drew. "Nettie can teach you to not draw like this."

"Both of you are too kind," Molam replied, "but I am dealing with a problem that seems hard to solve." He hesitated, then looked at Nettie, "It has to do with Master Ji's life."

The Titled One sat up straight, her gaze focused. "Explain to Nettie."

A soft hand gripped Molam's wrist and he looked to see Priestess Shantayla's worried gaze. Molam understood her reservations, but tomorrow’s vote weighed on his mind. "Nettie isn't just any child, and I needed to ask her several possibilities regardless," he told Priestess Shantayla. "We are out of time. I would like both of you to listen."

The Priestess's lips pressed together, then she nodded. She let go of his wrist.

Molam kept his explanation for Nettie brief: as a result of his and the Whale of ZhiXia's decisions to prioritize saving her, the OutCast had been free to rampage throughout ZhiXia City in the Whale's absence. With so many dead and widespread destruction in the aftermath, ZhiXia City will put Master Ji to trial by public vote at noon tomorrow with his life on the line if the public delivers a guilty verdict.

"Which brings me here," Molam tapped the copied text and runes. "I am looking into everything possible, digging for anything that can be used to sway the results. I considered—"

"Nettie will not help you cheat," the girl said flatly.

Molam paused. "That's not what I came to ask for, but I'm curious about your reasoning."

"Because Nettie thinks everyone should get an equal say." Nettie looked at the runes again, then added, "And Master Ji would not like that we cheated."

Molam nodded. "That was my reasoning too. We could never hide this from him and Master Ji seems to be… a bit stubborn." More than 'a bit,' but Molam kept that to himself. Their disagreement had lingered in his mind.

Priestess Shantayla spoke up hesitantly. "Then why…" — Molam was almost tempted to finish her sentence, but refrained — "not be… changing people's minds?"

Molam waited to make sure she was finished, but Nettie butted in. "Nettie thinks Molam is here because he thinks it can't be done?"

He grimaced when Priestess Shantayla looked down and fidgeted with her hands, but nodded at Nettie. "Yes," he confirmed. "Primrose and I have gathered some information. The public sentiment is… not good. Many lost their homes or need to salvage their livelihoods. And there were several hundred deaths." Four hundred and twenty-seven names on his list, to be exact. He decided to be more direct. "Public opinion cannot be swayed in this little amount of time because the wounds are too fresh."

Nettie frowned, "Nettie finds it illogical to blame Master Ji because he was not here. He did not destroy their houses or kill anyone."

"That's a normal thought," Molam agreed, then added, "But you'll do best to understand that people always make decisions based on emotions first, and—"

"Justify it later with logic," Nettie finished for him. "GrandFather always said that."

Molam paused, looking at the tiny girl sitting across from him with a cup of juice in hand. It was jarring, trying to equate the way she looked with the sharp mind within. "He was very wise."

Nettie looked at Priestess Shantayla, then gave a toothy grin. "May Nettie have more juice?"

The Priestess smiled at the girl, then looked towards Molam's cup meaningfully.

"Thank you," Molam replied, pushing his cup towards her. "But if there's hot floral tea, I'd like a mixture of that with some juice instead." The Priestess nodded.

Nettie leaned the side of her head on the table and looked up at Molam from the corners of her eyes with a look of concern.

"What?" he asked.

"Juice is juice," the girl raised an eyebrow.

"Try mixing flavors up from time to time," Molam replied. "You never know what new flavors you might find."

"Hmmm," Nettie pondered, "Maybe." She sat up straight again, then asked, "Nettie would like to know what else Molam has considered."

Molam pressed his lips together. There was that other idea, but… "Well…"

"Nettie would like to know the one you want to avoid telling Nettie." The girl leaned forward in her seat. "The one that Molam was considering just now."

Molam raised an eyebrow. It wasn't so much the sharp mind that caught him off guard anymore, but the sheer abruptness of the reminder of who currently sat in front of him. The Prodigy.

"I'll tell you, but let's wait so Priestess Shantayla can also agree this should not be done." He paused, then added, "And so we'll have juice."

"Juice!"

Priestess Shantayla came back with their drinks.

"We waited for you," Molam told her while she sat down. Unfortunately for Molam, there was no tea.

"And for the juice," Nettie added, sipping happily. There was no trace of the sharpness from before in her round cheeks. "Nettie thanks you."

"You're welcome," the Priestess replied, sitting back down on her seat and half-crossing her legs again. "There's an extra cup of juice. I am ready."

The two sets of eyes settled on Molam again, and he exhaled. "This actually… was the most likely one to work. I just don't think we should do it."

"What is it?" asked Priestess Shantayla.

"The idea was: what if we could do something… drastic?" Molam muttered under his breath. "Remind people of how much Master Ji does to protect them. Remind them instantly of what they risk by not having him."

The Priestess seemed confused, but Nettie frowned. "How?"

Molam looked up from his cup, meeting first the Priestess, then Nettie's eyes. "We could create a situation where Master Ji would need to act to save people. Such as using the Sage's Mirror again."

Nettie's frown deepened and she puffed out her cheeks. "Nettie understands, but Nettie thinks that is a bad idea."

The Priestess' look went from confusion to understanding, to open-mouthed realization. "You would summon another Titled Echo?" she asked. Perhaps because of her surprise, there was none of her usual hesitancy in her voice.

Molam held up his hands. "I said we shouldn't do it. The cost would be too high, and the echo cannot be controlled. But… the results would be the most guaranteed. We could ask GloomSire, or even Nettie yourself to try the Mirror." Or maybe Mursa Shang, thought Molam. But enlisting the mursashu sounded too expensive. "The Mirror summons an equal opponent, which shouldn't pose a problem to the Whale of ZhiXia. If it goes well and Master Ji steps in, well, — the situation is solved. The people he saves will realistically forget their prior thoughts and go into the voting with a changed perspective."

"No." The Priestess's fingers tightened around her cup.

"No," Molam agreed. "This was only me trying to think of all the possible angles, starting with the one most likely to succeed. And because someone," he winked at Nettie, "very much wanted to hear it. But we should not do it." Molam did not want to write more names on his list.

"Nettie completely agrees. But is that all we have?" asked Nettie, pressing the side of her cheek onto the desk again, stretching out her arms. "No other options?"

"We're too limited on time," Molam pushed the extra cup of juice into Nettie's reaching fingers — the girl grabbed it and smiled at him. "The vote is tomorrow at noon. If there were at least two — no, just one week, I could have pursued other options. But I hear the leader of the Sharks considers Master Ji a hindrance to ZhiXia's growth, and the vice-leader is quite stubborn about enforcing the law." He sighed. "And the timing couldn't be worse. The people have suffered painful losses and are looking for someone to blame," he added, pinching the bridge of his nose — Molam had found himself doing that quite often lately, and he wasn't sure when he had picked up the habit. "Even Master Ji himself is…" probably feeling the way I do, "submitting himself to their judgment."

Priestess Shantayla sipped at her juice. "This sounds… impossible. Can the vote not be delayed?"

"The call to convene has already happened, and it's not under my control," Molam shook his head. "I assume Sanctuary can't interfere either, per the Oracle's command?"

The Priestess nodded silently. Molam sighed.

"Hence why I'm feeling… out of options," Molam leaned back on his stool, almost tipped over, then sat back up. "But everything I can think of that doesn't take unnecessary risks requires time. And we don't have time."

"Poopy," Nettie commiserated with him, "So tomorrow… Master Ji is either free or dead?"

"It sounds like it," Priestess Shantayla’s hands fidgeted again. "And the vote… seems to swing one way already."

"Poopy," the girl repeated, turning her head so only her nose touched the table. A moment of silence later, she began paddling the table with both hands, a steady rhythm. "Nettie hates problems that only have extreme results. They have to decide tomorrow?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

"This seems impossible." Priestess Shantayla looked glum.

Molam opened his mouth to agree, then fell silent as he saw most of the children gather around a Priestess. The Priestess asked them a question, then several raised their hands and began jumping in place. The Priestess dismissed the hands with a smile, then asked another question and a different set of children raised their hands. The Priestess counted, then crouched and spoke to a child whose hand had remained down for both questions, presumably asking why they hadn’t chosen an option.

What if…? Molam scanned his notes. "Sanctuary and HuaLang Chamber can't impede the voting process," he murmured, reiterating what he knew. "And we can't cheat the process itself. The Sharks want to enforce the law and remove Master Ji's influence from ZhiXia City. And finally, we need Master Ji to accept that the result reflects the people's will. The ideal solution would satisfy all of these conditions before tomorrow's vote."

"There's one last thing we can try," Molam stood up, grimacing at the way his knees popped. Too much sitting in a seat meant for children. "I'll need the Oracle's permission first."

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Ruined Martial Arena, ZhiXia City

Shurra flinched when all the cats hissed and the dogs growled in unison. Tails puffed, lips pulled back to expose teeth, and ears flattened — a collective, synchronized animosity that set Shurra on edge. She looked towards Master Yao-ren and was surprised to see his face wearing a look of pure fury, a drastic change from the earlier relaxed expression he’d had when stroking the bushy tomcat on his lap.

"Is everything all right?" Shurra asked in a low voice, so as to not startle the animals even further.

"No," Master Yao-ren responded, then set the tomcat down delicately. The low hooting of an owl echoed throughout the evening. "Yes, I know," he said to no one in particular, then uncrossed his legs and stood up, looking to the east. The animals looked with him, completely distracted from the food that Shurra had set out for them.

"Master Yao-ren?"

"We have your alchemist and are taking him to Sanctuary, but my bond is being attacked," the Titled One informed her. He turned to the animals and blew lightly towards them. One by one, they relaxed and went back to their feeding. Another hoot from off in the distance, but more urgent. "I'm going. Tell Molam — he needs to know this."

"You're being attacked? By whom?" A dog licked Shurra's hand, and she looked down to pat its head. By the time Shurra looked back towards her teacher, the Titled One was nowhere to be seen.