Life is similar to construction.

You have plans for a building to house some sick people. Having discovered the right location, you source the correct materials. You find the right workers.

You have it all built in your mind. Orderly and idealized. You know what color to paint it and what decorations would complement it.

Then the problems arise. Poor weather ruins the building period. An overseer becomes sick, and during that time the construction work suffers several setbacks. Some of the materials were not of the quality promised, resulting in poor foundations.

But the building must be built. The sick need shelter. Middling adequacy becomes the theme because perfection only serves to hinder progress.

And so it goes.

— Excerpt from Meditations, by the Red Emperor

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In front of the Inner Sanctum

Priestess Komura stopped at the entrance, then turned to Molam, tutting at his disheveled state from playing with several of the orphans. "She wishes to speak to you first. Alone," she emphasized as she smoothed wrinkles from his shirt. "Priestess Shantayla, make sure the back of his head doesn't look like a dove's nest."

"I understand." Molam responded to Priestess Komura. He gave Kalle and Nettie an apologetic look as he allowed Priestess Komura to fuss at his clothes while Priestess Shantayla gingerly dragged two fingers through his hair.

"Don't worry about me," said Kalle, who seemed unable to hide his amusement at the Priestess' actions. "I'll need some time to collect my thoughts regardless. It's my first time meeting her myself," he added, hurriedly running a hand over his own hair. "I never thought I'd meet the legendary Oracle. How do I look?"

"Your hair is short and I can't get used to you without a beard,," Molam gave Kalle a wink. "Well, I doubt the Oracle cares about presentability."

"Nettie thinks you look tall and fine, Kalle."

The alchemist looked down at Nettie, who was walking around his legs in a circle, staring up at him. He smiled from cheek to cheek, the effect stretching his scar. "Thank you, Nettie. That's very kind of you."

"There is nothing lost from looking your best, especially when you meet someone," Priestess Komura lectured, pinching Molam's ear so he would stay still. She tutted again at the state of his clothes; some of the dirt streaks on his sleeves and pants could not be shaken off. "Perhaps next time save the play-wrestling with the children for after an important meeting."

The two Priestesses stepped back when they deemed him sufficiently presentable. Priestess Komura nodded to herself at her handiwork. "We should get you a set of white robes for when you see the Oracle," she muttered to herself.

"White would be ruined on me," Molam responded, stepping quickly to the door that led to the Inner Sanctum, lest Priestess Komura's aging yet keen eyes find something else to be less than barely acceptable. "Thank you, Priestess Komura, Priestess Shantayla." The younger Priestess inclined her head in response. "I wouldn't want to keep the Oracle waiting."

The older Priestess seemed to disapprove, but nodded her head. "Go. We will know when it is time to let the others in."

Kalle, who had picked Nettie up onto his shoulder, whistled in surprise when Molam opened the door to reveal the pitch black of the Inner Sanctum. Molam grinned at the alchemist, who had immediately stepped forward with a look of awe on his face to observe the way light seemed to stop at the doorway, then entered the darkness alone.

This time, Molam strode forward without fear regardless of the pressing silence. He blinked, but saw no change in black. For a brief moment he resisted the urge to hold out his hand, telling himself that nothing should have changed in the Inner Sanctum's layout. But then, what if?

Molam held up a hand, feeling his way forward through the darkness, sliding his feet forward as a precaution against tripping.

"I know you know I'm here," he spoke aloud as he wandered forward, swaying his hand in front of him and touching nothing. "Must we do this each time? Will it be white or orange-red?"

His voice rang out into the darkness with only its echo for an answer. The silence pressed in, and Molam found himself stepping heavily forward just so he could hear his footsteps.

Then, the Oracle's echoless voice came out of the gloom. "Most people cannot stand formless darkness for a long period of time. The mind is a curious thing. It knows that there is nothing else currently in the vicinity that offers danger."

A pause, but the way she ended her sentence did not permit him to speak. "But as it is with life, what was certain is somehow not always so. A hundred breaths later in the darkness and the mind begins to imagine dangers and enemies where once it had the certainty of safety. When left to itself, the mind often loses its understanding of what is and is not real. Reality, therefore, exists to prove itself — and nothing more."

Molam hadn't expected what seemed to be the Oracle's personal observation. Nor was he prepared to respond to… whatever she had just said. After a moment of mulling over her words, he eventually replied, "I believe I know what you're speaking of. Exabell City is famous for using black isolation cells as a form of punishment. I think many people are afraid of being alone with their thoughts."

He paused, unsure if he was being tested or whether the Oracle's unprompted observation had some other meaning. "Why the sudden contemplation? Are you losing your grip on reality?"

"Reality is subjective. The Inner Sanctum separates me from the world in order for me to maintain objectivity over the centuries. Those of us who suffer eternity need a way to maintain our sense of self through the persistent erosion of time." White aura lit the Inner Sanctum and Molam froze at the image of the Oracle's masked face looking at him. The dragon-faced mask seemed relaxed, though Molam was no expert on draconic facial expressions — much less carved and painted ones. "Perhaps from vanity, selfishness, or fear. We all do it, and my recent exit reminded me of this. Do you understand?"

Molam stepped onto the dais, nodding with understanding. The Oracle's words had been indirect, but he heard the warning. "So then. The others that have lived for a long time — the Lord of Sands and Chieftess of the Formosan Islands — what should I be aware of with them?"

"Only that you should tread carefully with your words when speaking to someone with almost a millennium of experience. Fiery One and I may tolerate your wanton displays of irreverence, but it would not do for you to carry that into a meeting with others."

Molam blinked and paused, unsure if he was being chastised. "Thank you for the warning. I'll keep it in mind when I meet the Lord of Sands. Where is Fiery One?" he asked, looking around the Inner Sanctum for a hint of orange. "I don't see them."

"Our spirit friend has left to pursue the four winds."

Ah. The pieces fell together in his mind; it seemed obvious now that the Oracle had explained it. The phoenix had mentioned something about gathering the other greater spirits; that was why it had asked Molam to look out for Flowing One. Molam stepped past the ring of statues of the Gods, bringing his arm guard in front of him, feeling for the feather within. "In search of another spirit without telling me?"

"This could not wait, and you have had other problems to worry about. I was to tell you that the feather entrusted to you this time is specifically from its tail plumage, and that the feather would rejuvenate its store of aura whenever you entered the Inner Sanctum."

The spirit's disappearance had been completely unexpected and he found himself surprised at the way he felt. Fiery One just… left? Without telling Molam directly? For some reason he missed its nagging, self-aggrandizing remarks. "I suppose this is where I am to express my deepest, heartfelt gratitude?" Molam asked in a wry tone. "Does living too long mean you and the greater spirits forget how to bid a proper goodbye as well?"

The dragon mask tilted slightly downwards, giving the etched expression a darker look. She shook out a hand from a sleeve, then raised a hand to caress the air with a finger. "Perhaps you should take my warning to heart. Would it help to imagine you are speaking to my sister instead?"

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

A chill ran up Molam's throat— he tucked his head instinctively, looking for what couldn't possibly be there. He immediately looked back up; the Oracle was still far away, yet the sensation of her finger on his throat lingered. "I… understand," Molam replied carefully. "I will speak to the Lord of Sands with the same respect I would give the Submerged Leviathan."

"As you should," the Oracle said, lowering her hand back into its sleeve. "Is there anything else you would like to ask or discuss while I grant you a private audience?"

Molam swallowed, rubbing the back of a knuckle across his throat. "I… can't think of anything specific right now."

"Then it is time to open this conversation to the others." The Oracle's aura flickered and Molam waited, still rubbing at his throat. A moment later the door to the Inner Sanctum opened again.

Nettie ran in first, zooming around the statues of the Gods, perhaps as a result of having had too much juice. She was followed by Kalle, who looked around wildly with awe. Coming up behind them was Master Ji, flanked by the two Priestesses who stood to the side, their hands clasped in front of them, bowing towards the Oracle.

"You may speak, Molam," the Oracle declared.

Molam cleared his throat as several pairs of eyes met his. "Thank you for coming. Particularly you, Master Ji, so soon after your trial. Congratulations on being acquitted, actually. That makes things easier for us. I've been planning to have you join us to reach Oasis, and —"

The Whale held out his hand, stopping Molam mid-sentence.

"Yes, Master Ji?"

"I have decided I cannot go with you to Oasis," Master Ji told Molam.

Molam blinked, his mind racing with the possible reasons why. An order from the Oracle? No, she was in agreement before, and she would have told me earlier if she had changed her mind. Ah, he "decided," so it must be a personal choice. But what could have…? There could only be one reason Molam could think of. "I see. It must have something to do with the Eclipse."

The Whale nodded. "Yes. He has shown a willingness to enter ZhiXia City. The circumstances have changed."

Molam bit the inside of his cheek. He fully understood Master Ji's new unwillingness to leave ZhiXia City undefended, but he had made his plans assuming Master Ji would be with them for Oasis. Getting there, for one thing. And though he'd never met the Lord of Sands, a former member of the Nine Lords and Monarch of the Six Crowns would be difficult to convince without having the Whale of ZhiXia by his side.

"Molam was hoping you'd come with us, Master Ji," Nettie spoke up, her excited voice echoing throughout the Inner Sanctum. "Nettie would like to see Oasis with you."

"Nettie," Molam said, keeping his voice as gentle as possible. "If Master Ji cannot leave ZhiXia City, then you must stay too."

"What? Whyyyyy?" the girl stamped a foot, pressing her hands to her hips as she stared at Molam defiantly. "Nettie does not understand."

Molam knelt down on one knee, patting Nettie on the shoulder. "Taking you to Oasis will be dangerous." The girl met Molam's gaze with her large brown eyes and a pouting frown. "The Empire of the Sun has set their eyes on you, which means you need to be protected. As we've already seen, only Master Ji could possibly protect you. Since Master Ji has decided to stay here, this is a good place where you can really… settle down and not need to worry about your safety."

She lifted a foot as though to stamp it, but put it down quietly. "Nettie dislikes logical arguments that go against what Nettie wants."

Molam smiled, then snorted despite himself. The Prodigy indeed. But also a child. "I hope Nettie understands the logic?"

"Nettie does." She hung her head, then puffed out her cheeks. "Nettie agrees, but hates it."

"And don't blame Master Ji either. His decision is rooted in his responsibilities, and I'm certain he didn't want to disappoint you either," Molam nodded to the Whale, who nodded back in turn, a look of gratitude on his face. "I'm quite certain Master Ji will make it up to you while we get other things sorted out. In the meantime, just enjoy your life as you see fit. You'll get to see Oasis one day, Nettie."

The girl looked at him again with her big brown eyes. "You promise?"

"I…" Molam hesitated, but Master Ji spoke up.

"I promise," the Whale knelt down like Molam and held out his little finger to the girl. The girl stepped forward and attempted to wrap her little finger around the Whale's, but realized their size difference and grabbed the finger with her hand, then shook it up and down twice.

"Nettie takes promises seriously," the girl warned.

"I know," Master Ji responded simply.

"Good!"

Molam smiled at the girl's smile, then looked up towards Priestess Komura. "I don't want HuaLang Chamber or the Sharks to have any undue contact with Nettie. Let her be free to live her life a little bit, not just as the Prodigy."

The Priestess nodded. "It can be done."

A tug on his sleeve bade Molam look back down. Nettie beckoned and he lowered his ear, to which the girl whispered, "Just in case Nettie doesn't see big sister Primrose again, please tell Primrose the Mirror is complicated but simple: it reflects what you need to see."

"What?" Molam raised his eyebrow, waiting for more information.

"Primrose will understand," Nettie replied with a frown. It was the kind of frown that spoke of someone asking too many questions, but it looked particularly jarring on her young face.

"So… that's it then?" asked Kalle, a hint of relief in his voice. "No more going to Oasis?"

"No, we still need to go. It's just become much, much harder." Molam stood up slowly, thinking through what he needed. No more Master Ji, no more Prodigy. What options did he have for reaching Oasis and securing a large amount of jade? "Oracle," he began slowly, "If I speak to Mursa Shang about commissioning a wagon to Oasis, will Sanctuary help? I can only imagine the exorbitant fee he'll —"

"You will have my full backing."

Molam masked his surprise. "Full, hmm?" he thought aloud, mind already racing over the implications. Perhaps buying his way to Oasis wasn't impossible after all. "That's reassuring. Let's see if the Mursa will keep the price reasonable."

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ZhiXia City

They left the Inner Sanctum, with Master Ji volunteering to walk with Nettie and the two Priestesses back to the orphanage. Molam hugged the girl, promising to return to play dragon chess with her before he left the City. Then he left Sanctuary with Kalle, heading straight for the side entrance closest to Mursa Shang's caravan.

"Why are we trying to go so quickly?" asked Kalle as they walked. "Don't we have two years before the Bloody Prince wakes up? Doesn't that give us a chance to think about a plan that doesn't involve going to Oasis?"

"I understand your hesitation, Kalle, but this is important. But we have to consider: what if the Prince wakes up before then?" Molam asked, gazing straight ahead as he walked purposefully towards the caravan.

"What? How? You said the Oracle said —"

"Doesn't matter," Molam shook his head, seeing the line of wagons in front. "What if he wakes up before then? I'm not prepared to risk that. Are you?"

"No," came Kalle's eventual answer. His longer strides easily kept up with Molam. "This is our best chance."

"Yes. The faster we go about this, the less chance the Empire has of surprising us," Molam stepped around the caravan circle, looking for his way in. "Staying ahead is an important advantage. Never assume the opponent will act according to your wishes. Resting is —" he paused just as he found the gap intended to be the entrance, seeing the man waiting for them.

"Molam! And Kalle too! I've been expecting you," Mursa Shang waved cheerfully at them from the gap between the wagons, a glint in his eye. The man wore an elegant black robe trimmed with fur, a series of golden runes woven straight into the fabric. "I've heard you're going to Oasis. Will Kalle be joining?"

Molam nudged Kalle's leg with his own before the alchemist could say anything, keeping the man quiet. "Of course you heard," Molam muttered, unsure if he had adequately masked his surprise. The Mursa wasn't asking — he already knew. "Who is your source?"

"I could tell you, but I don't think I could stomach that loss," the Mursa smiled. "If all our secrets are stripped bare, how much are we really worth?" He didn't wait for an answer, gesturing into the makeshift enclosure made of wagons. "Shall we?"

Molam did not like that look. Confidence backed by the knowledge that one had the upper hand. It was enough to make him want to walk away immediately, but he had rushed here so quickly in order to avoid this very problem. And so Molam had a dilemma:

Should he leave now and hope he could gather more information? But what could he prepare? The Oracle's backing could only mean so much when it came to a battle of information. Moreover, leaving to prepare would only give the Mursa more time to prepare as well, while proving that Molam had arrived without full confidence.

Should he step forward to the negotiation table? That seemed dangerous as well; Mursa Shang was only waiting for them because he believed he had the upper hand. There could be no other reason for the man to reveal he was ready to sit down at the table.

Molam stepped forward. "I suppose you have a table prepared?" he asked idly, hoping the tone of voice sounded more casual than it did in his head.

"Of course," Mursa Shang winked at him, then shifted to the side with a beckoning gesture.

"Come sit with us, Kalle," said Molam under his breath, walking into the ring of wagons. "The Mursa will undoubtedly have a great selection of drinks to offer."

"I'm happy you accepted," said the Mursa as he led them within. "A part of me wondered if you would defer."

Of course you did, thought Molam. You would have been happy to have more time given you smell a deal. He kept his face straight and expressionless, hoping Kalle knew enough to stay silent and not give away any information. Molam was certain this was the best move possible. Or, he hoped it was, given that he no longer had the element of surprise.

Not when the Mursa had moved first.