The world shifts around me, colors blending together as my music waves through the room. I am transported to a lake, brightly lit by fireflies as the moon shines down from the cloudless sky.

A man and women sit beside the lake, leaning against each other as they enjoy the picturesque atmosphere.

The woman laughs at something the man says, slapping his shoulder lightly in mock outrage.

The scene shifts and I find myself in an empty tavern except for a woman. She sits alone at her table, her face hidden by a black veil. In her hands she tightly clutches a drawing, her head tilted as she seems to study it with a heavy atmosphere.

The notes on the Twelve Requiems of Illusion disappear, but the illusion doesn’t break as I finish my last note.

Slowly, as if broken from a trance, the woman looks up from the drawing, her gaze finding me. “It seems we finally get to meet, Inheritor of The Twelve Requiems.”

I lower my flute hesitantly, surprised to meet yet another living illusion. Only Zhu Teng, the warrior of the first illusion, and the Murderess have ever spoken to me.

“Disciple Lin Jia greets Senior.” I say, bowing to the woman who watches me emotionlessly.

“I am Zhu Yan Se.” The woman says. She places the drawing in her hands on the table in front of her. “I am the first daughter of Zhu Teng. Tell me, why do you disturb my rest?”

I rise from my bow, unsure how to respond to the dismissive tone of the woman in front of me. “Senior Zhu Teng directed me to the second and fourth requiems. I did not wish to disturb you Lady Zhu.” I pause, hesitating before continuing, “I didn’t know spirits could rest.”

Lady Zhu stays quiet, lost in thought. Eventually she rises and walks around me, studying my body. “I am more than the spirit left in this book. I am trapped in the halls of the Lanxing Wordsmiths, my body unable to move a muscle, forever entombed in my prison of stone.” She says the words calmly, simply speaking them as facts without any emotion attached. “My father’s spirit directed you to me? Why?”

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“I… am weak.” I say, turning to look at the woman. Her face is still hidden behind her veil, hiding her emotions from me. “He said that you would grant me your techniques if you find me worthy.”

“Ha.” Lady Zhu starts, “Ha hahahahaha” There’s no real emotion to the laugh, more as if she believes it should be funnier than it actually is. “Even in death, he passes his problems onto his disciples.” All her movement stops as she studies me, “Do you think you are worthy?”

I pause, recognizing the trick to the question. “I don’t know. I try to be.”

Her body stays unnaturally still, then she gives a small nod. “That isn’t good enough.” The world twists around us, mixing like paint until it turns clear and flows like water around Lady Zhu and I.

I open my mouth, trying to say anything to convince her that I am worthy.

“The Twelve Songs Of Water are my creation and my inheritance.” As she speaks, the ring on my finger activates, using my qi to pull out one of the manuals that I had discovered early on in the sect.

The Twelve Songs Of Water flips open to the first page, revealing The First Song: The Brook’s Dance. Lyrics flow off the page, wrapping themselves around first Lady Zhu before traveling over to me and wrapping around my throat. Images of an unfamiliar dance light up on the page to replace the lyrics that had previously been there.

“So prove yourself worthy, Lin Jia, successor of the musicians of Zhu Teng.” Lady Zhu steps forward, lifting her veil to look at me with beautiful and piercing black eyes. “Prove yourself worthy of every gift my brothers and sisters give you.”

She lowers her veil, hiding her face again.

“When you do believe yourself worthy, find me in the halls of the Lanxing Wordsmiths.” With those words, the illusion shatters, both The Twelve Requiems Of Illusion and The Twelve Songs Of Water falling to the floor.

I step forward and pick up both of the manuals. I place The Twelve Requiems Of Illusion into the ring that Qiu Tai had sent me, then stare at the new book.

Will I ever be worthy?