“My parents didn’t let me outside for eighteen years! I DIDN’T HAVE A FUCKING CHOICE!” Abrial had vaulted to her feet, fists curled, a dragon with flesh of anger rearing in her core. Her dark eyes were seething so intensely that they seemed to burn red.

Bi Chanjuan stared at her, her dark eyes unmoving. Her mouth had fallen open slightly. Lavender wisps of smoke floated out of it.

At last, she leaned back, her shoulders relaxing for the first time since she entered the tent. Her arching eyebrows were raised with surprise.

“Wow,” she said, finally. “Sorry you had such a pitiful childhood.”

Abrial’s jaw clenched with rage. After a moment, it very slowly seeped out of her expression, like escaping scarlet smoke, and she collapsed back into her chair, crossing her arms and turning her head jerkily away from Bi Chanjuan.

“I don’t need your condolences or whatever!” she muttered in a low voice. “I just grew up…differently!”

Bi Chanjuan lifted her pipe to her lips. The corners of her mouth curled up.

“I wasn’t giving you condolences. Can I ask why your parents did that? Imprisoned you, I mean?”

Abrial’s fingers tightened on her biceps. The black and scarlet fabric wrinkled.

“I don’t know. I want to talk about something else,” she asked, her voice slightly hoarse. “Like the questions. I have more questions.”

Bi Chanjuan breathed out purple smoke. She looked sideways at Abrial, a strange look in her dark eyes.

“Okay,” she said. “What’s your next question?”

Abrial’s fingers loosened on her arms.

“How and when was the Wei dynasty overthrown?”

“It was overthrown about four hundred years ago. The current Emperor became enormously powerful in shadow magic and massacred half of the empire, along with every member of the Imperial Wei Clan who was present in the palace. Only Wei Guang’s maternal ancestor, a consort, escaped, because she was visiting her hometown on the day of the massacre. She was pregnant with her son. When the news of the massacre of the Wei clan spread, she went into hiding.”

Abrial thought about that. She shifted in her seat to stare at Bi Chanjuan with a deep frown.

“Did you say the Emperor overthrew the Wei dynasty?”

“Yeah.”

“An old Emperor?”

“No. The current one.”

“But…that doesn’t make sense! How did the current Emperor become Emperor four hundred years ago? You must mean his ancestor! Right?”

Bi Chanjuan shook her head. She shook the golden pipe, seeming satisfied, and slipped it back into her turquoise robe pocket.

“Nope. Still the same Emperor. Those who’ve seen him up close and survived to tell the tale say he’s ageless. Most magicians through the centuries believe that he uses some evil magic to sustain his youth. They say he’s been in his twenties for four hundred years and counting now. He’s extremely powerful, and extremely cruel. And he’s found a trick to immortality, or at least to sustain himself for centuries.”

Abrial gaped, her eyes glazed with amazement. Using magic to sustain youth for centuries? That must take so much energy…Where could a person even learn something like that, anyway? Suddenly, she had another question.

“Okay, there’s normally a court of officials who work in the Imperial Capital, right? Like my father. Don’t those government officials get suspicious of the Emperor? Since he doesn’t age, but all of the government officials do, don’t they suspect he’s using magic or something? And why aren’t the common people suspicious that the Emperor literally hasn’t changed for centuries?! How can he stop rumors from spreading?”

“Hah…that’s easy. The government officials are well-bribed with salaries and scared out of their pants,” Bi explained in a disgusted tone of voice. The last lavender wisps of smoke rose from her lips, glittering mysteriously. “If any one of them said anything, or if the Emperor suspected any one of them of conspiracy, they’d be imprisoned, then killed in unspeakably painful ways. As for the commoners, they’re just fucking stupid.”

Abrial frowned at Bi Chanjuan. Bi Chanjuan shrugged back, her eyebrows raised in innocence.

“It’s true. They’ll believe anything. The Emperor is seen as a transcendent figure, chosen by the heavens. I’ve been all over Gongkua. People in the south believe the Emperor is an immortal god. People in the West think that there have been ten emperors so far, and that they all represent the same prosperity, so their glorious reigns have all blurred together. People in the north and east think that the emperor is blessed by the heavens to live forever. It makes me want to vomit up my fucking guts. Who would believe shit like that? Only a fucking idiot.”

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Abrial’s frown deepened. She moved her gaze to the mats on the ground, studying their grooves as thoughts swirled through her mind. She imagined learning that the Emperor was an immortal god from childhood…If she’d been taught that, would she believe it, too?

“I guess that makes sense,” she murmured aloud. “It…all makes more sense now. It makes sense that people think it’s such a crime to speak badly of the Emperor, or call him something other than ‘His Majesty’, because…because, if they really think he’s an immortal and blessed by the heavens, they would also think it’s like cursing the heavens to insult him!”

“Yup,” Bi Chanjuan agreed, resting her chin leisurely on a golden-nailed palm. “All of them worry about disrespecting the great Emperor, who brings prosperity and protects them from magicians, when the Emperor they worship has murdered so many people that their bodies could be piled into a mountain taller than Zuigao.”

“Who’s Zuigao?”

Bi snorted. “Wow, you really don’t know anything. It’s the tallest mountain in the northern range. Right behind this camp. It marks the northern edge of the Empire of Gongkua.”

The image of hundreds of thousands of corpses piled atop one another high into the sky flashed before Abiral’s eyes. Her lip curled with disbelief. She studied the floor mats intently, clenching and unclenching her fists, too shocked to notice the condescension in Bi Chanjuan’s voice.

At last, she looked up, catching Bi Chanjuan’s eye intently.

“Hey—what exactly is the purpose of this camp? Just to protect magicians? Instructor Wei said that the people here are also a group of rebels against the Emperor, or something. What’s that about? D’you want to fight him?”

Bi Chanjuan was boredly tracing shapes on the back of her pale hand with those long, pointed golden nails. Her nails left pale red marks.

“The Wei camp was created two hundred years ago to be a safe haven for magicians who were driven out of their homes due to violent prejudice against magic. There have been other camps like this one in the past around the provinces of Gongkua, but the emperor has obliterated many of them, since they often serve as breeding grounds for rebellion. We’re just well-hidden, so we’re the largest surviving one in the north. In terms of rebellion, we raid prisons where captured magicians are tortured, and bring them here for healing. We travel through towns that hold a particular hatred for magic, and secretly invite magicians to come back with us. And…” Bi Chanjuan’s eyes glittered as she lifted them to meet Abrial’s. Her mouth stretched into a sick, bloodred smile.

“We’re going to tear the Emperor to shreds some day.”

“What?”

“We’re gonna kill him. Eventually”

Abrial stared at Bi Chanjuan, blinking blankly.

“Just like that? You can just—kill him? Wouldn’t someone have done that already if it was that easy?”

Bi Chanjuan’s smile stretched wider.

“It’s not that easy. But with the right plan, we can do it. We can crush him. Jie—my sister’s been helping construct plans for a long time now. We’re gonna get rid of that fucking murderer someday, and lift this stupid ban on magic. Then we’ll all be free.”

“But how? And—” Abrial’s brow creased in confusion. “And, I just thought of something else that doesn’t make sense. Why does the Emperor ban magic if he uses magic himself?!”

Bi Chanjuan didn’t answer. She simply got up from her seat. With a satisfying cracking noise, she stretched out her palms, rotating her shoulders to pop out any bubbles of air. Then, with a smug look on her face and swaying hips, she headed straight for the tent entrance.

Abrial shot to her feet.

“Hey! Where are you going? I have more questions!”

Bi Chanjuan turned her head slightly as she continued to stride away, the corner of her smile showing.

“Time’s up. I’m not staying in a tent with someone as annoying as you for any longer than I have to. Go to the scroll tent if you’re dying for answers. If you can find the wavelength to read books, that is.”

Abrial’s face blazed crimson. She clenched her fists fiercely and opened her mouth to shout after Bi Chanjuan, but she was already gone, the tent flaps fluttering closed behind her.

“Stupid crone,” Abrial growled, an irritated scowl setting into her face. “I just want to punch her in the bloody red smile. Did she forget I saw her smoking? She’ll be in big trouble if I bring it up in front of Bi Gho! Seriously, so annoying!”

She collapsed back into her chair, crossing her arms aggravatedly.

A young woman’s pale face flashed through her mind, with flowing black hair tied loosely back, large, mischievous dark eyes, long lashes, and a smirking smile.

Shin Minyeo was pretty annoying, too, she thought grudgingly. But not like this. I never wanted to smash her face in.

Slowly, the deep frown in her brow smoothed away as she sat there, everything she had just learned flowing back through her mind like a stream of thoughts. It was strange to have learned so much about the history of the empire just after one conversation, when in eighteen years she’d only learned over and over again that magic was prohibited here.

It seemed there were a lot of things she didn’t know. Seriously, if she’d learned this much in an hour, how much more did that mean other people usually learned in eighteen years? She must have a lot of catching up to do, now that she was out in the world. What did that stupid Bi Chanjuan say? ‘Go to the scroll tent’ if she had more questions? Maybe she could learn more about Gongkua’s history there…

But then, Abrial frowned to herself.

Wait a minute! What was she thinking? She hated studying! And even though she could read poetry, how much harder would it be to read a book? Did she really need to know all that much history? Hmm…maybe she could just go and try to find things that were useful for answering her specific questions. Who cared if other people knew more about Gongkua than her? History was boring! She could probably beat everyone here in a bladefight, anyways, right? Except Instructor Wei. Whoa, weird—Emperor Wei? King Wei? Instructor Wei sounded way more comfortable. She’d just keep calling him that.

On that thought, she left the tent.

“I’ll go to this scroll tent,” she murmured to herself. “And try to read. But only a little.”