There is a saying throughout the Central Valley: "Solca chasing harmony."

Solca the Magnanimous spent centuries trying to create a utopia where people worked together in perfect harmony, and the phrase is traditionally used to refer to acts of a person who tries to ensure everyone in a group cooperates seamlessly. I am certain we all know someone who fits that description: tirelessly mediating, always trying to get everyone to see eye-to-eye, forever facilitating harmonious conversation.

But it has also taken on a new meaning in recent decades: a person chasing an impossible dream. A good example would be: that farmboy training with a wooden stick in hopes of joining the Red Army is like Solca chasing harmony.

For additional reading, see For Whom the Bell Tolls by the esteemed Scholar Tory.

— Excerpt from The Nine Lords by Scholar Tessy

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ZhiXia City Square

Primrose was torn. To run to Sanctuary and inform Molam? No; the trial was starting. It was too late for her to find him — their parting words had implied that he would be with the Oracle, and she was not invited to the Inner Sanctum.

Aster — Captain Aster — walked onto the platform and placed his hands on the podium. The man looked striking without effort, clad in dark-colored clothes that looked comfortably tight, chosen to emphasize freedom of movement without unnecessary looseness. Petals were trained from an early age to be wary of loose clothes being caught on sharp edges or giving an enemy an additional area to grab. Aster in particular had a natural skill that made him command attention whenever he wanted, which he employed to great effect as he looked around at the hundreds gathered with a solemn face. The sounds of the crowd had fallen into a hushed silence before he cleared his throat.

"My fellow citizens," he began. Aster's voice had always carried a velvety baritone, further emphasized when he spoke slower than normal. The effect came across as though each word was deliberate and with purpose. "I understand that Sanctuary has made a historic decision for the Oracle to personally conduct the funeral rites in public. An important occasion that many would not miss, and so I appreciate those of you who chose to come today to make your voices heard. After all is said and done, our small City can only function as a society because of everyone's equal participation and contribution."

"Today, we mourn as those who can no longer see the light of the Sun are sent off to God Yven's embrace. Today, we cremate our loved ones, never to see their faces in the flesh again. Today, we pay tribute to the First Flame so the fresh scars on our souls can find it time to heal. Then tomorrow, we go back to the important task of rebuilding our city and restarting our livelihoods."

"But is that justice?"

Primrose flinched at the booming voice. She didn't remember Aster being able to enhance his voice like that, but that wasn't important now. So this was his game — he had moved three of the voting booths to Sanctuary, and now he was ensuring that those in Sanctuary could hear him. Molam's plan had been to dilute the vote by pulling residents to another event, and Aster had responded to that by trying to expand the reach of this event.

His passionate voice carried out anew. "I ask you again: is that justice?! Is it enough for us to merely bury our dead and restore what was? Is it right to walk away from this event having learned nothing? Is it not important to ask what happened in order to ensure such a thing never happens again? Do we not improve as a society by holding those responsible for their mistakes as well?" Aster's hands gripped the wooden podium, then he continued. "When people become sick or die as a result of a restaurant's food, do we not ask the owners to take responsibility? When a house crumbles, do you not ask whether it was from outside forces or improper construction? Is it not a question of accountability?"

Of the five paths taught to Petals to master in order to become Flowers, Primrose had found the path of Blades to be her favorite. And while most Flowers of her age considered Aster to be nigh unparalleled with blades, his true calling had been the path of Whispering Wind — a path for Flowers to specialize in spreading rumors and controlling the discourse.

Aster clenched a fist into the air. "Why, then, should we treat this tragedy any differently? Are we to accept silence as a substitute for action? Are we to turn a blind eye to what happened when the evidence is all around us? I refuse to believe that we are so indifferent, so complacent. We must demand answers, we must demand change. And change cannot happen without accountability, properly assigned to those who shoulder responsibilities. There is no justice without accountability, and without justice there is no trust in society." The fist slammed down into the podium. "Our society is built on the foundation of trust. We trust our leaders to protect us and our fellow members to support one another. When that trust is broken and those responsibilities neglected, it is our duty to rise up and demand better. To demand… justice."

The final word lingered, whether through aura enhancement or simply in the ears of those who heard Aster's speech. Aster paused, looking around the crowd with smolder in his eyes. "I stand here today as Captain of the Sharks, entrusted with the duty to pursue accountability and give each of you a fair opportunity to seek justice. And so I bring you the accused — Ji WuMing."

Primrose bit the inside of her cheek. To use the Whale's full name, and in such a public manner. Then she heard a rustle of chains and stifled a gasp of surprise. She now understood Molam's grim face when he had visited the Whale's cell several days ago.

Master Ji emerged from the City Center, flanked by four of the Sharks. His wrists and ankles were manacled and bound by chains, with the ones around his feet so short that he could only shuffle forward. Clinks of metal accompanied each of his footsteps. But what drew Primrose's ire was the heavy jade collar affixed to his neck, with four metal chainlinkss attached to poles held by each of the Sharks.

A part of her twinged with fury, but she tempered it with reason. Primrose understood why, even if she couldn't hold back her feeling of disgust. Aster had trained at HuaLang Chamber and was no stranger to the importance of presentation. This had been calculated to give the crowd the image of a dangerous convict right after such a speech.

She found herself wondering if she had been too lax when it came to the path of the Whispering Wind. Most Flowers found it to be the least interesting of the five paths taught at HuaLang Chamber given its delicate and subtle nature, but blades and needles could only do so much when the heart and mind were what drove people to act.

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As the Sharks shepherded the Whale up to the platform, Aster continued. "He stands accused of willful negligence and abandonment of his duties. His decision to pursue the Empire's Titled Ones left our City defenseless, one made worse by the OutCast's rampage after he was unable to subdue her. In doing so, our City lost hundreds of lives and suffered incalculable damages to buildings and infrastructure. Today, one could even reason that it was the result of his actions that caused the Oracle to need to personally leave her Inner Sanctum to conduct the funeral rites."

Upon reaching the top of the platform, the four Sharks affixed their wooden poles into their respective slots and stood at attention. No doubt Aster had chosen his burliest men for the job of escort duty, but even if the largest among them could rival Shurra and Kalle, each of them looked somewhat small next to Master Ji. The Whale of ZhiXia stood silently, head bowed down as the City held its breath, listening to Aster speak. Primrose saw Madam Scarlette shift in her seat; her hands were clenched tightly together, her knuckles white.

But they couldn't intervene.

"We all know the death toll. Four hundred and counting, but what are numbers next to names? It was someone we knew. Someone we loved! Someone we laughed with, ate with, played with. A resident of ZhiXia City is a friend and neighbor. For what is a City without its residents? What is a group without its participants? When it comes down to it—"

A sudden movement in the crowd; a pot flew through the air. Aster reacted swiftly, snagging the pot with a hand, but the oil within had already splashed out of the open lid, raining down onto one of the Sharks as well as Master Ji. Primrose saw smoke rising from the flying liquid before it splattered over a young man, who screamed. He recoiled in pain, windmilling his arm in a vain attempt to get the liquid off his skin. Nearby, the Whale of ZhiXia did not even flinch as the boiling oil splashed over his head, dripping harmlessly down his skin.

Several of the Sharks jumped into the crowd, restraining the woman who had thrown the pot. Primrose noticed it was one of the ones who had set up a stall earlier. She now recalled the woman had only brought the bare minimum of ingredients to man her stall, a detail which would have normally set Primrose on edge.

But she had been distracted.

"You were supposed to keep them safe! All of them!" The woman's anguished screams could be heard throughout the Square. Her shrill voice became muffled as two of the Sharks held her down, but a burst of anger or grief gave her further strength to bellow from the ground. "We trusted you!"

More movement in the crowd; a thrown knife, rotten vegetables, and several eggs. A young man leapt up to the platform, fire in his eyes as he rushed the bound Whale with a chipped shovel. Two of the Sharks blocked him, knocking the weapon to the side and wrestling him down on his back. The man — he couldn't have seen more than twenty Sorrows — spat towards Master Ji and roared with rage before they flipped him over and shoved his head down onto the wooden boards.

Master Ji stayed motionless amidst the chaos. Rotten egg stained his face and chest, and a squashed fruit had left a splotch of ugly red on the side of his head. The thrown knife had fallen down harmlessly to the platform. He said nothing and did not react at all, eyes looking downwards at the wooden platform; the look of a man resigned to his fate.

Aster stood up, having administered to the young Shark — Primrose saw angry, splotchy burns on his arm — before shouting instructions at the others. They carried their ally off the platform and she winced as she got a better look at the burnt skin. If the healers were not experienced, the skin would become mottled or worse. Pointing to the instigating woman and the young man who had climbed the platform, Aster shouted several other instructions. The two were fully subdued, to be brought to the City Center's jail.

Several members of the Sharks walked through the crowd, pacifying the chaos and soothing worried residents. It was another few moments before Aster took the podium again. This time a line of four members of the Sharks stood in front of the platform with their hands clasped behind their backs, forcing a gap between the audience and the stage. Evidently, Aster was not taking any chances with another similar incident given the number of people in the crowd.

"I must express my disappointment in those that violated the rules just now. Justice should not be carried out by any individual hand," he stared down at the audience. Primrose was surprised at the genuine anger in Aster's voice. "ZhiXia conducts justice through a voting system to ensure all voices are equally heard. Does everyone understand? We do not take matters into our own hands and deny the rest of society their opportunity to participate in the voting and sentencing. You can make your grievances known today with the voting booths we have placed in the City Square and outside Sanctuary."

He pointed at the nearby voting booth, then continued. "That being said, I understand your anger. Your vote is your answer to several questions: is it justice that Ji WuMing lives while our loved ones do not? Should he still be trusted to be the Titled One that defends our City? Trust is an all or nothing endeavor — if you cannot trust him with your life, then vote accordingly. For our peace of mind, he has agreed to the death penalty if you vote for it." He paused, then added, "We the people hold the power to decide justice. And so I hope that all of you make your voices known, whether it is anger or fury, mercy or gratitude. Let the voting commence."

"I don't like how he phrased that," Primrose muttered to Madam Scarlette.

"He's simply using what he was taught by Madam Ixia," was her reply. "You did the same in JiangXi, even if you aren't as skilled."

But Primrose heard the forced civility in Madam Scarlette's voice; she had been fingering the needles in her dress since the oil had been thrown. No doubt the perpetrators who had attacked would be investigated sometime soon.

Primrose observed the people lining up for the voting booth. She couldn't imagine what it was like at Sanctuary, but the people here wore grim expressions. No doubt the commotion earlier had been a stark reminder of what was lost and why they were here.

Justice.

"Emotions are high," observed Primrose. "If we let them vote right now, that's it." She looked towards the Madam, whose features were inscrutable behind that veil. There would be no time to run to Sanctuary and ask Molam what to do; they had to make do with anything they could come up with at this very moment. "Is there nothing else we can do? Send Petals and Flowers to mingle in the voting line? Something more drastic?"

"Yes to the mingling, no to anything more drastic." Madam Scarlette's voice carried a cold note compared to her usual lively musical tones. "The rules are clear. We cannot interfere."

When Primrose opened her mouth to protest, the sky darkened. A roar echoed throughout the skies and she looked up to see GloomSire and a terrified-looking Kalle sitting astride the black pixiu, flying at breakneck speed towards ZhiXia City.

The sight made Primrose leap back as Madam Scarlette vaulted backwards over her chair, the two of them pulling out their weapons. The rest of the City Square had also noticed, looking up to the skies with their mouths wide open. Primrose sharpened her Sight, focusing her vision to see the bleeding injuries on both GloomSire and his bonded pixiu.

Flying close behind them — far too close for comfort — chased the green wind of the Tempest. In Primrose's Sight, the deep blue of GloomSire's Domain retreated in front of the Tempest's emerald green Domain. Wherever the two Domains clashed,

But more than that, following right behind the Tempest was a man whose spreading Domain turned the vibrant blue skies above ZhiXia City a dark, ominous gray.

"Prim. Is that…?" the Madam asked slowly, as though needing confirmation for what was in front of their very eyes.

"Yes." Primrose fought the terror rising in her chest as the memories made her palms sweat. It was Scarlette's first time seeing this specific Domain, but everyone had heard of it at least once.

All know the legend. Few remember the nightmare.

And how could Primrose forget the gray Domain of a Sunless day? It was the same one she had seen when Teljumaya disappeared in flames two decades ago, leaving only the World Tree standing among the ash and soot. "What is he doing here?"

The Eclipse had never returned to ZhiXia City since the Empire's failed excursion almost a century ago.