DECEMBER 844 AQE

The clamoring thunder of hoof beats interrupted Taoru’s deliberate focus a breath before he touched the chisel-shaped flame against the smooth surface of obsidian. In the mere blink of an eye, he snuffed the fire out in his hand without a single trace of smoke. The sculptor’s gaze remained fixed on the large block of material, lamenting for a moment that it would have to wait longer to be finished.

He let out a breath as he swiped a rag from a nearby hook and turned to the wide workshop door. From this vantage, he counted three horsemen trotting toward the modest estate. He could tell they were with the local military by the harsh crop of the horses’ manes and the maroon, silver-trimmed clothing of the riders.

When Lian had burst into the workshop, his hackles had gone up immediately. His urge to keep her safe and as far away from the military as possible, drove him to send her back inside. He could tell she didn’t understand his reasons, but there was no time to explain himself now when there were unwanted guests on their doorstep.

Taoru was sure he had no desire to hear what they had to say, but he was not so impolite as to dismiss them outright. Still wiping dust from his hands and bare chest, he strolled out into the sunshine, waiting for his unwanted visitors to finish their approach. As they drew closer, he recognized who rode at the front; Captain Juzo. Taoru’s interest level dropped even further at the sight of the soldier, and his dread rose with each powerful, equine stride that brought him closer.

“Hail, Master Taoru!” Juzo called out as he reined in his horse. The captain and his escort slowed to a halt. Juzo kicked out of the saddle to the ground and passed his mount off. He then fixed a charismatic, broad grin onto his face and strutted confidently toward the waiting, older man. “I hope the morning is treating you well?”

Recognizing that he was about to receive a recruitment pitch, Taoru braced himself. Outwardly, he remained hospitable. “It is a fine morning, Captain. What brings you out here so early?”

A familiar tingle at the back of his neck alerted Taoru that his daughter was nearby. No doubt she had heard the horses and came to investigate. She should have been studying, which is why she was hanging back near the front of the house. Close enough to hear what was going on, but far enough away that she didn’t think her father would detect her presence; she was wrong. Perhaps it was his grasp of magic or a sixth sense he’d developed being a single parent; there wasn’t much she did that escaped his notice.

“Business, I’m afraid.” If Juzo was aware of Lian, he didn’t show it. “Every day, Warlord Tzulan’s armies creep toward our southern border. They’ve already completed the road through the Rotted Wood. It won’t be long now before they’re stamping at our walls. We need—”

Taoru was already well aware of everything Juzo told him. The entire subject made him tired, however. It had been this way for the last year or more. Warlord Nagisa was recruiting as many willing, able-bodied souls as she could. She had not begun conscripting those living in her territory, but Taoru was certain it would happen soon.

Personally, he had made a point never to get involved in the squabbling feuds of the warlords. Their land disputes went back for hundreds of years, since the last emperor’s reign ended. In all that time, the proud Hiryuten family, once known as the Dragon Warriors or Tiyomi, had never sided with any of them. Even though they, like the other Zosara, had gone into hiding, they remained apart from such petty affairs.

There was no way of explaining that to Captain Juzo in terms he could understand. It wasn’t just tradition; it was a matter of pride and honor. The Dragon Warriors were among the fiercest fire Zosara to have ever lived. They had many traditions and beliefs that they lived by. Or at least they had long ago.

Since the fall of the Qin Empire, much had changed in the world, especially for the Conclave of Zozatai. Taoru himself had never known a time when the Zosara lived freely and had only heard tales passed down from generation to generation about the days when the Dragon Warriors were in their prime. All the same, those traditions mattered to him; he was not about to be the first in such a long line to break them.

“I’m a simple man, Captain.” Taoru had known what he would say the moment he’d seen the soldiers coming. “I live to raise my daughter and fill the world with art. I am not a soldier.”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

At the mention of Lian, the captain’s gaze flicked to the open workshop door, betraying that he knew she was there. “I’ve seen her at the recruitment rallies,” Juzo remarked. “She’s quite spirited, your daughter.”

Taoru’s expression hardened by a fraction at the way Juzo said it, at the implications being made. “She is not a soldier, either.”

“Come now, Taoru.” He sounded almost impatient. “She’s barely twenty; she has plenty of time to choose her path. Perhaps—” He stopped talking the second he realized his mistake. Tension marked the older man’s face; he had crossed a line. Immediately, he changed tactics. “I mean no offense, Master Taoru. Surely, a man as wise as you can recognize that Warlord Tzulan is no ordinary conqueror. He’s a cruel, twisted savage—”

Taking a deep breath to regain his composure, Taoru held up his hand to cut Juzo off before he could slip any further into his rant. “I appreciate you stopping by, Captain. If there is nothing else, I’d like to get back to work.”

Juzo looked momentarily deflated but quickly regained himself. “If... I may ask.” He took a step away from his entourage, his demeanor shifting to a more humble visage. “May I call on Lian?”

“For what purpose?” Taoru growled the question, fire burning in his golden eyes again. It didn’t matter how politely Juzo stated the question; the sheer audacity that he had dared do so, after having just criticized Taoru as a parent, was infuriating enough.

“It’s... personal, sir.” He bowed his head sheepishly. “As I said before, she is quite spirited and—”

“Spirited…” Taoru’s gaze narrowed, his jaw tightening. “She’s not a horse, Captain.”

Juzo was visibly taken aback. His mouth flopped open and closed, his eyes flicking wildly as he tried to come up with something else to say. To make matters worse, a snorted giggle came from the workshop that only made the captain blush. “Forgive my impertinence...” Juzo suddenly couldn’t look Taoru in the eye anymore. “I believe I will take what’s left of my dignity and return to town... Thank you, Master Taoru, for your time.” He bowed hastily and then stepped over to his waiting comrades.

The other two men were trying to hide their smirks and failing. Juzo flashed them both a sour glare as he mounted his horse.

Once the three of them had turned and started back down the path, Taoru grinned. He remembered being a foolish young man; perhaps that was why he had become so protective of his daughter. He knew what foolish young men were capable of. After all, had he been more sensible in his youth, he would have become a father under very different circumstances. Not that he had a single regret. Lian was everything to him.

“I thought I taught you to sneak better than that...” He smirked, glancing over his shoulder as Lian crept into the doorway. Her eyes, the same fiery gold as his, glittered with mirth.

“Yes, well.” She joined him outside and elbowed him. “You know us horses... all hooves.”

Taoru let out a bark of laughter, then swung his arm around his daughter’s neck, pulling her against his side into a warm hug. He placed a kiss on top of her head. “What do you say we forget about being productive today and hike up to the Peak? We can do a little training, work on those hooves...”

Lian beamed up at him. “Whoever loses sparring has to cook dinner?”

“Deal!” Taoru didn’t hesitate; Lian had never beaten him in a spar yet.

As she bounded off to the house to change, Taoru turned his attention back to the figures of the retreating soldiers just as they disappeared from view around a stand of barren trees.

There were more things at work here than the captain’s budding admiration, though that alone was enough to make any father worry. The coming conflict between Nagisa and Tzulan would only get worse. While Taoru was probably too old to be drafted into service, Lian was not. This simple fact cut through the man’s heart, lodging a permanent, icy fear into his chest.

Since the moment a handmaid had shown up with a swaddled baby girl and a letter of explanation, Taoru had thought only of caring for his daughter. She was technically an adult now, and while many would congratulate him on raising her successfully, he still saw that tiny, helpless infant squirming and fussing in the woman’s arms. It wasn’t until he’d accepted her and held Lian against his chest for the first time that she had quieted. Gazing down into her teary, gold eyes had changed him forever. He had vowed to her then she would always be his highest priority.

For the first time in nearly twenty years of living in Baisho Province, Taoru considered leaving. He had built a successful business and reputation here, and yet if it meant saving his daughter from being conscripted, Taoru would leave it all behind without a shred of remorse.

“Dad! Are you coming?” Lian’s impatient voice dragged him back to the moment. She was stepping off the porch, having changed into a slitted dress and pants made of rougher fabric than what she would wear around the estate or into town. Her hiking pack was slung over one shoulder and her hair drawn up into the Hiryuten family’s traditional topknot. “Let’s go!”

“Yes, yes.” He moved from his position and untied the sleeves of his tunic from around his hips so he could slip the garment over his torso again. Even in winter he was hot blooded enough that he couldn’t stand the heat of wearing the thick cloth while he worked. Lian’s beaming face had brought him a measure of comfort and he found a little of the dread easing away. He knew a hard conversation was going to be necessary, and that was why they were taking the day off. What he had to say was better said on top of a mountain.