It was a usual day in the Mirror Palace of Immortal Rong, standing tall in the Higher Seventh Heavens of the Spirit Realm. A few bubbling Silver scaled fishes splashed over the Purple Halo Lotuses. The sky was brimming with colorful auras, melding into a gorgeous mix of soulful colors, and the giant, gigantic roofs overhead sheltered several mirror like jade floors covered in a liquid blue of water.

Sparkling blue.

A silver boot splashed over the mirror floors and hurried over towards the arched gates, climbing hastily over them, over pedestals; stairs were equally hastily climbed and trodden till those steps halted before a sleeping man, seated in a cozy, yet elaborately regal seat.

"Immortal...master Rong." Su Ziyin softly greeted the dozing man, who supported his head against his hands, his elbows settled over the arms of his seat. His long cascading Purple black hair flowed like tendrils of a gentle vine, curling in the softest curls and softly tracing the outlines of his out of the world, perfectly chiseled features. Lord Rong was draped in a simple gown, but no one in their right mind would ever think that man was as simple as his apparel.

Immortals. This word was the deep trench between existences. It was the line of demarcation between those who had escaped the restrictions of heaven and laws of existence and those who were just living ugly lives of being subjected to them still. The spirit realm may be another deep pit of deep suffering and anguish that comes with life —but here the stakes were higher, way higher than any mind in its rule-bound mind could ever grasp. Dao seekers fought against the rules so what did the Immortals fight against? Did all struggles end in the Ascension to the Spiritual Realm? No. Su Ziyin knew that was untrue. Because he himself had seen the stakes, knew what was at bet he didn't take much time to grovel down on his knee with a plop!

"Master! I seek forgiveness for this abruptness…I have confession to make. A character in the plot is dead. This is completely my fault." He severely hit his head several times against the mirror floors, the water splashed over his face and wet his clothes and lapels and he made no effort to not let them soak him; he kowtowed in front of the man who still had his eyes closed and explained without a moment to take breath in between his words. His eyes looked at the swirling mix of red of his own blood, as if watching his life slip by.

"I am in charge of overseeing the Phoenix seed. The chosen heroine 'Ying Liu' was supposed to stumble upon a purged village and rescue a three year old child, who will then give his most treasured jade necklace to her. The Phoenix seed is stored inside this jade...but recently the Fate-Readers observed some alterations in the events. Instead of 'Ying Liu', the new heroine's fate was stolen away by her sister Ying Yueru. We were getting ready to make the...required changes and see if this 'Ying Yueru' would be able to be completely assimilated by the phoenix seed and nurture the soul of our Red Empress with her fate. Everything was once again on the track, but we...I discovered an anomaly."

Su Ziyin raised his completely broken forehead, which was now bleeding red and looked pitifully gruesome. His eyes though looked aghast, his lips quivered as he saw the man still not opening his eyes.

"Hmm." A nasal humming urged Su Ziyin to calm down a little and speak faster. The tapping of fingers echoed in that overarching hall, it's roof invisible and clouded with misty clouds.

"The anomaly was a child called Wei Zhiruo. I...killed her." Su Ziyin was now really fearful of what was to come next. The sentence of his punishment was going to be pronounced.

"And…?"

"Wei Zhiruo... was supposed to host the soul of another of the five General stars in her body. The original child would have died in her eighth year, sacrificed to the God of Malice. Using the dead body to revive a soul, another soul was going to be reincarnated —the Lilac Empress of Southern Hills, and our Fourth General. She was going to play the 'Supporting Role' and give away some very crucial inheritances and treasures to the Red Empress. But now, the whole fate has become distorted...it's all my fault! Master forgive me for causing this much trouble for you! You gave me a chance to join the Temple of Water and thread the Vine-fates and observe! Master your disciple has failed to keep up your expectations! I deserve death! Please don't show any mercy to me. After all, I have spoiled a hundred years of your work!" Tears trickled down as he apologized furiously, his eyes looking determined to seek death. He bit his lips to stop the shivering overtaking his soul. Death. He wanted death. If only that could be so easily attained…

"Lilac...Empress?" The man straightened. "Wei Zhiruo...Wei Zhiruo…Daughter of two betrayed lovers. The star of a lone wolf shines on her forehead, she brings disaster to everyone she is close to...a fate that would have suited the Trial of Fairy Xunyi. You are telling me that fate has now been completely eliminated by you? How easy is it to kill a lone wolf...you didn't make a mistake?"

"Master, hear me out!" The man hurriedly started explaining the details of the recent event. "The Anomaly seemed to be able to use some incomprehensible powers. I felt the traces of another world in her breath. It's unknown when, but the Original body had already been replaced by another soul which stumbled into that realm. The barriers are too easily penetrable at this moment and it is not difficult to imagine, but," the man took a deep breath and took out a mirror and placed it in his palms as if offering to his God.

The mirror floated away and the man seated on the regal seat looked at the piece of memory the man showed him. He observed it with increasing interest and then looked at the last image of black dust flying away into the air.

"Interesting." The man observed. "You had to use your Purple Thunder to strike a mere mortal? I understand. But what makes you think that she is dead? Not many mortals can stand tall in front of Immortals so steadfastly, can they now?" The man still hadn't removed his eyes from the last frame of the memory running in the silver mirror.

"The seed...the Seed of Heavenly Eye cannot be destroyed by any heavenly force in mortal or cultivation realm. Master, you might know, not many in the Spirit realm know how to remove this seed even here. Master! Wei Zhiruo had this seed for us to track the plot and for surveillance. But now—that seed seems to have been destroyed…" Only the most cruel form of death, complete death of soul and body could ever remove that plague like seed in its entirety.

"Oh- is that so? What a pity. She looks like a good candidate for the game. We could have tweaked a little here and there, tamed this fiery spirit and shown her the real world..." The man looked away from the mirror and then observed his disciple playfully. "You know what to do, right? Hundred years of plotting and threading the lines of fate —to atone, you will go to the battlefield, won't you?"

Su Ziyin felt his heart drowning, but he still kept his mind and gave his master a heavy salute and hundreds of thankful words full of gratitude, before he allowed himself to go away. Battlefield. Ancient Battlefield where monsters, God's and demons danced like maddened spirits. But it was good. It wasn't the Bottomless Trench —Su Ziyin felt a little bit lucky that his master seemed to be not in the mood to torture anyone today-

"Ziyin."

Su Ziyin stopped with trepidation. His feet felt like iron balls, refusing to be pulled up. Sweat broke on his forehead as he heard a mellow, soft and lazy voice whisper from behind himself —"Before you go on your journey, don't forget to ask for a Spirit Sealing Pill from Gua'er. Fifty demon heads, I want them. Or your Su clan can pay with their blood. You decide."

The sultry voice slithered around his neck like a venomous snake, hissing seducingly and then Su Ziyin, rushed running out of that water filled palace.

Death. How can that be so easy to earn? Su Ziyin looked aimlessly at the vast lands and clouds of the Mirror Palace of the Immortal Lord of Fate. His eyes dead, stared soullessly at the hazy view and somehow he took another step, before collapsing.

***

Marr woke up before Wei Zhiruo. He looked down at her curled-up cocoon like sleeping figure, felt the sun showering plenty over both of them, and the warmth wrapping around in a powerful tide of comfort —especially those apertures, newly created and untested, which had shown no sign of filling up before, even they seemed to have started working slowly and erratically but in a mechanized order inside Wei Zhiruo’s body. They rotated in a mysterious orbit, absorbed some more of the sunshine and gently wafted of wisps of light, and then went on to heal the wounds around her body. He observed how a particularly grotesque looking cut in the stomach healed on its own, and looked away.

He looked up at the sky; the mottled sunlight and the rustling waves of the wind when hitting leaves urged him to fall back into slumber. Nevertheless, he endured on through this pull of lethargy, and smelled some of the wounds of Wei Zhiruo to make sure none of them had that corpse-like smell that comes from rotting flesh —if it were to be so, then he would have to cut some flesh off himself.

Nothing smelt odd, while everything was healing perfectly. Only then did he cuddle up close to her and stole some more warmth from her body. A soft sigh escaped, like a stifled purr, lost soon in the rustling of grasses in the meadow. "Wake up." But no one replied to his request so he closed his eyes to doze off.

When he woke up again with sufficient energy to look around, Marr didn’t wander far away from Wei Zhiruo. He knew they were relatively safe there – but that was just, relative. The forest, its verdure and life burst into a cacophony of liveliness, and there was also a secluded sense of isolation in the place they fell down to, but he was sure a few curious eyes had seen them, sniffed and smelled and examined them both – the two intruders in the forest –Marr hadn’t found any evil intention in any of them but he could never be sure of anything in a strange place.

He stood guarding day and night. Seven days— a full week passed in such a slow manner. If he didn’t know that Wei Zhiruo was throbbing and burning with life, he would have thought she had fallen again into a coma!

“It's good – sleep and be rested. Who knows what we might have to confront next? I can always trust your fate to bring us the wildest adventures possible.” He whispered, snoozing a little snuggling beside her. “But what makes you so sad, my Ama? What did you lose? What are you going through in your sleep? I wonder…how unhappy you are right now? Unhappy that you must be.” His blood red eyes strayed seeking the purple crystal clutched in her hands. “Wake up…Wei Zhiruo. You've slept pretty long.”

A leaf fell down, grabbing his attention, and he was soon lost in rhythmless deliberations.

***

At first it was just the sensation of drowning that had her guts in wrenched twists and mouth muddied with salty, bloodied liquid. When she fell down, she felt her ankles being clasped into iron fetters, and some weight descended on her head. Looking up, she looked around the labyrinth drooping with slimy, wet liquid that looked very much like human blood. She smelled the raw iron. She saw herself, in that mist that was coming from another end of that narrow channel, while she wore something very familiar; she had a very familiar body too —tall and slender.

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Unperturbed she stayed still for a breath – just converging her thoughts around the new place she had fallen down into. Where was She? She looked up…the ceilings were firm with no gaps and a greenish dark stuff grew over its surface – she felt it would really feel slimy when touched, so she walked forward. With the clinging of the chains binding her feet, and the swishing that came from her wet gown, she still endured the awful, death like smell and forged a path.

Not long after, the clinking echoed from every corner of the dark labyrinth. But instead of feeling depressed in that loneliness that sucked her breath away, she felt she was being watched instead. Several pairs of sticking eyes...up, down, left, right and even from behind. She turned and found nothing. A feverish mind dulled all her senses, she felt she needed to wake up to something – but what was that, she hardly had any clue. Was she sleeping –? The coldness, the wetness, and the touch, that lingering gaze…everything felt real. But was this real though —what had she forgotten?

Her feet were bound in a heavy chain which she dragged off from one of its shackled ends. It looked like iron, but its length seemed to extend on and on, till she felt there was no-end to it; it was long and heavy. She could move forward, farther and farther away, yet, the pain from their rubbing off her open wounds brushed her numb consciousness. She felt clearly that her head was bowing under the weight of a jeweled crown, its long tassels touching her earlobes felt cold and wet and slimy, as did her embroidered dress, as if she had just walked up from taking a dip in a pool of water. Her bones ached, her muscles ached...she ached all over.

She left behind wet footprints on the unmarred floor, traces of blue dripped in them and melted away like ink. The pillars were high, the dome was out of sight and the darkness the only color in that enclosed space. Finally, she spotted something -!

She saw it — the towering entrance gate forged of brass and gold inlaid inscriptions, and colored panes of glasses fixed over the high walls, touching the ceiling. But it was dark as night, no sunlight stole in this hall to sparkle and dazzle it with its vibrant dance of hues and mesmerizing mastery of symmetry. She just had to push and enter, so she pushed the door open to enter the Throne Hall —why did she seem to know what this place was called?

“…Everything is over! What more do you expect me to do? The oracle-! The oracle and that witch! She lied, she played us, she was in it all along – will you believe me, Terresa, she was the one who was with Syncesia – she was behind it all! They want blood – her blood, her blood…they are after it. What to do, what to do? What should I do, I failed to protect everyone…no one lives…let me go, I beg you! Have mercy on me and let me join everyone in death! My child-! My three months old...infant! No one spared!”

The weeping voice came from inside the dark hall, but there was no light, she couldn’t see – she just walked towards the throne from where she heard the voice coming. Soon many whispery voices started merging with that one, and it felt like the tunnel of sound was crowded with endless ghostly spectators.

“Mistress no! You cannot do this. Think of the master! Think of him." This voice had the same faintness to it as if it was echoing in a chamber of the past, and there was an inexorable distance between them, like life and death.

"Master sacrificed his life to save everyone – you included. Your life is his keepsake! How can you join the battle? Your sons are dead, unjust deaths – who will avenge them? Think of poor Amaranthus – you are her only surviving relative. Who do you think will guide her after you are gone? Do you expect that child to avenge such a huge revenge, such a huge…burden – go against gods and demons…all alone? Syncesia will have her blood, and what about the oath –? If the oath remains unbroken, all of the clansmen souls will be sucked dry by the Cuiping world! Injustice – injustice! And more injustice, by heart and soul, my lovely mistress, can you bear to see all this happen after you die?”

“…What should I do?” The voice died down in a soft whisper. Lost too was the cacophony of gloomy whispering that tethered on the edge of insanity and madness.

Before long Wei Zhiruo reached the throne, but found that there was nothing to be found there. Instead, the whole hall changed again. She stared at the blood smearing the white floors. Blood and skulls, rotten corpses lay strewn everywhere. Endless sea of them, wherever her eyes could reach she saw those corpses and dried up blood smearing the hall and the smell of putrefaction struck her nose like a punch to her guts! She felt nauseous. The watching gaze became focused on her face, she felt a wind steal over her spine, as if tracing her figure. She shivered.

She instantly recognized some half rotten faces; some were her courtiers who had unflinchingly supported her claim to throne, some of them were her close friends. There was a head staring into space bejeweled with the most pigmented blue, and she recognized the face—Sarah, a close companion from early childhood, who lay splayed like a broken doll. Another silver haired man bent down close with several arrows piercing through his heart, but still holding the hands of that blue eyed maiden – Cairus, she recognized, of the northern bloodclan. There were others… Johanne, Aloysius…Ruamer, Markus and finally the thirteen-year-old Aierra, all her childhood companions and acquaintances and the last remnants of the bloodclan. Half-bloods.

“Aunt -?”

The prisoner felt the clutches of chains loosen, and she felt herself shrink in size. She wasn’t as puzzled by it as was by the light softly filling up the dark hall.

“Amaranthus of Areme.”

Wei Zhiruo turned back abruptly.

Holding the staff of the clan, a headdress studded in the whitest of pearls covering her forehead like a round cap, and with the clan’s insignia embroidered in sapphires into a blooming blue crocus embedded in its center, that woman had some lose, grey long tresses rolling down in ringlets on her shoulder and reaching down to her ankles. She wore the same white dress she had seen her wear the last time. Her eyes though were too cold to ever support the imprints of a smile. Fog covered much of Wei Zhiruo's vision; she felt drowned in that instant. Choking over every emotion, and in that midst of jumbled up senses, she felt herself kneeling in front of that woman clutching at her gown. She seemed to be pleading for something impossible, as tears trickled down her face wetting every bit of her skin, and breath choking felt like she had swallowed pins and was being forced to talk!

“Aunt Mel.” Despite the discomfort she heard herself say. She snatched her aunt’s hands and performed the ceremonious kisses on her hands. Wei Zhiruo held her aunt's white hands and touched them with her own freezing lips and then placed those hands over her head. “I am begging you.”

“There is no time for this. Take the map and supplies and be on your way. That world is far away from here – no one familiar will ever cross your path. Forget your identity. Forget your past, and live like a normal person. Too many wrongs were done here, but none of them were done by you. It’s just that…if you ever get a chance to come back, don’t. If you do it anyway, not heeding to my advice and come here – then here,” the woman touched the child’s forehead with her finger, and Wei Zhiruo's brain split with aching thunderous pain. Seeing the face of the child writhing under the suffocating pain, the woman turned away as if to hide her own traces of tears. “That is called ‘The Oath Breaking Song’. If you sing this, no one will ask you to follow any vow. Nothing will remain of our previous promises to this...world.”

“Just don’t go. We can think of something else –"

“Amaranthus. This is an imperial order.” That voiced hardened becoming tough.

“You cannot go seek death and ask me to watch you do that, can you? How dare you think I will behave so cowardly to turn my back on you at this moment, when you need me the most? I am ready to die and be burnt to ashes! But aunt…why are you being so selfish to deny me this right?!”

“Just because someone needs to live and it is you!" The woman shrugged away the child's hand. "You cannot die. No one in this world will dare to kill you – they know the oracle. And if there is someone who is ready to kill you, they will do that for something in exchange. And child – no one in our clan is ready to bear that fate – the price of your death or your falling prey into those people's hands is way too high for anyone...to dare to even think of paying back!"

“But I can kill myself, cannot I?”

“Behave! Behave, Amaranthus. How dare you talk to me like this?" The woman looked shocked. "So many people have died protecting others tonight and failed at that. Look at their faces and tell me how dare you think of sacrificing your life?! Tonight, I lost everything...and to not lose you as well, I sent the secret orders. Do you see the blood? The corpses? Those red blood come from the humans of our clan! Those purple crystal’s growing everywhere? Do you know what that means? You wouldn’t dare talk like this if you knew…by my orders many came tonight – to die! They came in masses and told me that they knew what will befall on them once the final forts crumbles and clan falls down—they will be smeared in humiliation, living worthless lives no better than dogs and pigs and seeking bare minimum of dignity to gain nothing, enslaved, killed…everywhere —and so they came to me to die a worthy death. Sacrifice. Many sacrifices! All those crystals are their last traces in this…world, their tears, my Ama. It’s a strong emotion, it is the oldest ceremony, Amaranthus. For an ideal, men sacrifice. For love they do too. And these women and men-? They had sacrificed for a last glimmer of hope – for you to escape unscathed and not fall into the enemies hands! Dare you, even to think of not respecting this sacrifice? To give up life, Amaranthus, is no easy thing.” The woman bowed down to kiss her forehead. She was almost whispering these words to her. “Five hundred thousand clan’s women and children lost their innocent lives for me to gain enough recognition of the blood, to recall the soul of the past Seers of the clan and ask them to guide me how to save you...these maps you see are exchanges I just made. The song I gave you is the last bit of protection I managed to arrange. Will you deny this? Amaranthus, tell me. Will you?"

Wei Zhiruo felt her heart ripping and tearing.

“How can you…aunt? Did you ever ask…me? How come, you never thought of me disagreeing with this...atrocity!”

“I'll order you then. As the Eldest Princess of the clan and your aunt." The woman rose up slowly. "Go! Begone! That's enough for you according to the laws and dictates. Be on your way.” Like a pronouncement of a banishment, those words left Wei Zhiruo cold.

“I refuse! I will never be a betrayer of the clan –” Wei Zhiruo looked at the sword tip touching her nape. She heard someone’s gasp from behind her.

“You will do what is best for all of us, Amaranthus. No one has time to see your protests; the last walls are falling and I need to prepare. Cherish this hard-earned life like a princess!” Those blue eyes were cold, colder than the frozen landscape.

“Every time...Each time it is this method or that which is more dignified, or better than my own choices – aunt... Can I not even decide if I want to live or not? All my life, everyone has been dictating words on my face like I can’t think for myself,” Wei Zhiruo clutched at the knife blade, she felt the blood drip down from the cut in her hands. “Aunt you want me to fall back now and flee – I tell you. I will not!”

Suddenly, fog started to swallow Wei Zhiruo up.

Wei Zhiruo felt betrayed as she peered into those ice blue eyes, so frozen and cold that they retained no previous trace of their mirth and happiness. Her own fury submerged her half-awakened senses…At first sight of that woman no one would have thought she liked to laugh at the slightest of jests, laugh at the chirping of birds and nodding of the flowers…she was the happiest of souls alive – a loving, kind mother, and was a gentle lover and a great aunt. Nothing like the corpse that stood talking.

Maliessa of Ureme - the princess of the clan. Maybe she died with everyone else? But Wei Zhiruo knew she was justified in standing her ground. Fleeing like a coward? Her dignity as a member of this clan didn’t allow her to do that!

“Then you are commanded – from the power of seers I hold, I, Maliessa of Ureme command the current crown princess of the Sangtchi clan, Amaranthus of Areme to fulfil the vow – sing the oath breaking song on your twentieth year! The command is unilateral, registered by the blood of ancestors. No protest…allowed.”

Each word fell like a silent blow to her head. The seal of the vow fell on her forehead. Wei Zhiruo kept shaking her head as if in deep disbelief, no words coming out of her throat. She didn’t understand what she was hearing, her eyes fell on the sword still at her nape – but her hand now, instead of shedding blue blood, let out thick and darkened red blood. She jerked her head up to meet her aunt's red eyes.

She felt the changes registering in those eyes. Her aunt, no, the shadow that had been following her all this time as she recalled a long forgotten memory, an imposter, was shedding her pale facial skin, and like paper crumbled in a ball, they came flaking off her face, bit by bit flying in the air. Black lines marred the white insides, revealing themselves like webs of spiders, cracking and crackling– then Wei Zhiruo felt the force of the sword being pulled back, and then aimed at her heart.

The sword rang as it pierced her flesh! ‘No -!'

Darkness swallowed her completely, till she felt another sound entering her mind.

"Wake up…Wei Zhiruo. You've slept pretty long.”

She woke up from her nightmare.

****