The man in jade and gold chewed on his lip as he stared up at the moon. It shone more brilliantly than it ever had in his lifetime, its full-face shining light upon the earth as if it were the sun itself.

Behind him, the last of the five sages entered and bowed. Quickly, the Phoenix King schooled his expression, stopped biting his lip, and turned to face them. Each one was a master of the Spiritual Arts, and they lived by the ways of their elements.

“Kimura, what does the heavenly calendar read for this day?” he asked softly. Never did he raise his voice. Never did he need to. Even the softest whisper from him carried absolute authority, and his sages would hear it even from miles away.

The Water Sage bowed and opened a scroll. “My King, it is approximately two hours passed midnight on the fourteenth day of the third month of the lunar year. The moon is full-face, and the constellations of the Swirling Dragon and the Reed Dancer are in ascendance. The void ratio will reach its seasonal height at the coming new moon. A solar wind is expected in the northern territories this evening around the setting of the sun.” Once her report was complete, the sage who most would describe as mousy rolled her scroll and tucked it away before her own element made the ink run.

“Is there anything at all to suggest the moon should be brighter than usual this evening?” The Phoenix King asked.

“No, sir.”

“I see.”

“Does something trouble you, my King?” asked the Earth Sage.

The King closed his eyes and searched his ancient memory for any recollection that would explain the unease he felt in his heart. The Moon did sometimes glow brighter than usual, but usually in relation to some other function of the heavens. If the constellations of the Torch Bearer or the Heavenly Font were ascending, then the moon would reflect their aspects of light. If there were an eclipse on the horizon, then it would shine brighter to reflect the rising lightning energy present in the world.

Yet…this time there was nothing to explain it, and an uneasy feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. An old story, told to him by his master untold centuries ago, echoed in his thoughts. The Darkened Moon…a hated enemy who’d caused great death and suffering in the world, who’d erased entire nations on a whim and left their lands forever scarred to this day…he was tied to the moon. Could he be the cause?

The Phoenix King shook his head. Such stories were usually true in some regard, but this one was so ancient that none remained alive who could verify its authenticity. The Phoenix Empire had its fair share of monsters buried beneath the earth. Each prison was diligently marked and recorded from the Dragon of the Deep Earth to the Black Jade Sparrow. If the Darkened Moon was real, and had really been imprisoned instead of killed, then his prison was nowhere in imperial territory.

“Nothing worth our energy at this time,” he finally answered. “Kimura, please note the date. Now, on to other matters. What updates from the warfront?”

* * *

Elsewhere, a woman with gossamer wings and a red dress paced in a room all by herself. The sun shone through her windows, despite the late hour. The sun always shone upon the Dawn Empress’ lands, but that didn’t mean she didn’t know what lay under night’s dark blanket.

In fact, it was because the dark this particular night wasn’t so dark that her subordinates were so confused. Buzzing hornets flitted about, inquiring with the Empress what they should do, for they usually followed the patterns of the Sun precisely. The Empress ignored most of them, instead focusing on what she knew.

The Moon was unusually bright, and out of season. Perhaps the constellations aligned for it, as that wasn’t her area of expertise, but something about it was…off. She’d looked up at the moon for only a brief second and had closed her curtains immediately to block out the sense of dread that had washed over her. Something wasn’t right, and when something wasn’t right, the Empress was not pleased.

She returned to her desk, and a hornet landed beside her before changing its form to match her queen’s.

“What does this mean, My Lady?”

“Nothing good.” Studying a map, the Empress’ eyes caught on a particular name. “How long since we’ve been in contact with the hives in the Moon-Soaked Shore?”

“They’re being systematically wiped out, Your Excellency,” the attendant said. “We’ve lost all but one hive to the local militia. The last report from that one showed a recent change in leadership and a war being pursued with their neighboring insect colonies for dominance.”

The Empress sighed. The Shore was largely worthless ground, soaked in Moon qi as it was. Very few artists or spirit beasts could cultivate there without the threat of lunar corruption, and even the moon artists themselves dared not enter for fear of going mad from over exposure to the reality-warping, physics-defying auras present. It was all around a worthless target.

Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

That, however, didn’t mean that she was pleased to lose the hives there. It was a waste of resources to lose so many with her bloodline. Each hive received several of her personal brood to be queen and had a few backups in case the queen was destroyed. They were her kin, her children, and to lose them was a tragic loss.

However, something about the region nagged at the Empress. A bright moon, an abundance of lunar qi, the Moon-Soaked Shore. Something connected these things; she was sure of it.

“Send word to my daughter in that hive,” the Empress ordered. “I want her to devote a greater effort to investigating the state of the moon aura in the Shore. If there’s any connection to the bright moon, I want it discovered.”

“Yes, ma’am. I shall see it done, personally.”

* * *

The Master of Jade Scales curled his tail around his feet as he stared up at the moon. The baleful moon shone its hated light down upon the world, and it made him shiver in his scales. He’d been but a small pangolin at the time, barely into the Refining Stage and working directly under the Sun Queen’s personal healer all that time ago, but he remembered. He remembered caring for the refugees, those lucky enough to be on the outskirts of nations devastated by the Darkened Moon’s hatred. He remembered their haunted faces as they watched the silver light engulf the sky and leave nothing in its wake. He remembered as most of those refugees died to one misfortune or another, their futures robbed by the Ascendent with the power to erase luck and reality alike.

The Moon was a force of reflection. Those who used it could shape the world to reflect their own desires. The Darkened Moon had once been a kind and gentle spirit, but his heart was twisted by hatred. All the ugliness he saw in the world, he turned upon himself. All the hatred others had for him, he took into himself. He’d darkened his body and core, and there was no going back from that. All of reality had been forced to deal with the consequences of his actions.

The Master of Jade Scales had not participated in the fight against the Darkened Moon, but his master had. His master had died in that battle, and he’d mourned for an entire year. Such a sacrifice was necessary, but the world was lesser for it. There was no other way to defeat someone who could rewrite reality to suit his whims. How else can you fight someone who can see your every move before it happens, who can undo any action you take, and reverse any injury you inflict?

Now, the Darkened Moon had risen. He didn’t know how, but he felt it in his scales and in his core as they trembled with fright. The light above was not unknown to him. It was the same baleful silver that shone upon the world of old, the same twisted beauty.

The difference now, was that all of the Ascendents of old were gone now. His master had died in the fight. The Ocean Lord had somehow drowned ten years later. The Lord of Iron Crystals had fallen off a cliff and died in a fall that shouldn’t have even left a scratch. The Sun Queen had passed by her own hand only a scarce few thousand years ago, having lived a long and fulfilling life. Her duties had been performed, her life finished.

Even the Sword Saint, the one who’d dealt the telling blow, had passed at the turn of the last century. He’d lived a long life, as well, and provided much wisdom to the world. None knew the Darkened Moon better than he, for he’d helped to build the Sunless Kingdom before its Ascendent had fallen to hatred and malice. In fact, it was only thanks to his knowledge and skill that they’d managed to defeat the Darkened Moon in the first place. It was his sword that struck the moon itself, staggering their enemy, and sending countless volumes of stones cascading to the earth below.

But now, the Sword Saint was gone. Many Ascendents lived in this world, but only a handful were as powerful as the Ascendents of old. The Avatars of the Sun, the Earth, and the Ocean had not been enough to stop the Darkened Moon, and the spirit of their savior had passed on to the Spirit Realm. Without them, did they really stand a chance?

* * *

The young warrior gazed down upon the valley. Moonlight reflected towards her from the lazy river that twisted through the land. No doubt many would be looking up at that moon tonight, but none would truly know its meaning.

But she did.

Though her master had left this world, he’d left the warrior with many lessons to guide her. The value of patience, the importance of listening to the troubles of others, and the ability to understand the heart of another. He’d imposed these upon her even more than the unending hours of sword forms and qi exercises. They had been his true lesson. She only hoped she could live up to his expectations.

She gazed up at the bright moon. Her master had left the world too soon. His final work was not yet complete. He’d never told his disciple what that work was, but she’d known it was more important to him than anything else. In his final days, he’d left her with a single instruction, and a letter.

When the moon shone bright once more, that was when she would travel to the Moon-Soaked Shore. There, she would seek someone out, and give them the letter. Her master hadn’t said who the person was, only that he was an old friend, and she would know him when she saw him, for there was none other like him in all the land.

So many times, she’d been tempted to open the letter and read its contents, but her Master was notoriously private in all his dealings. He never shared the stories of how he quelled the Valley Lord, or what techniques he’d used to lay low the Darkened Moon. He never spoke of his family, nor where he grew up, even if those places were certainly destroyed. His own disciple didn’t even know his given name. To open the letter and read the words that he’d so carefully transcribed to another person would be a grave disrespect, and she couldn’t bring herself to do it, even if it would give her greater insight into her old Master.

But…maybe the recipient would know. If they were someone her Master knew enough to say there was none other like him in all the land, perhaps they were close. Perhaps she could learn something from such an artist. They must be powerful to have lived as long as her Master.

Now, with the Moon shining brighter than ever overhead, she knew it was time. She stood and made sure the three sword hilts were securely fastened to her belt. One was hers, one was her master’s, and the last had never been unsheathed to her knowledge. Her Master once told her it shattered long before she’d been born, and though he’d repaired it, it was not his to wield. He’d always kept it safe, and now she did in his place, even without knowing its importance.

She turned away from the valley and began walking towards the southern road. It was a long journey to the Moon-Soaked Shore.