Two Differences

A gentle breeze flowed calmly across the hall, sweeping from her left to the right. Clinking glass accompanied the haunting ring of wind chimes and Velandra paused. One breath in, one slow exhale out; she let go of her long wooden brush, letting it waft gently into the air. It fell in a single, graceful dive into the painting box hovering beside her. Before her very eyes on the white-wood table awaited a long, ceaseless document. She folded her hands together and gently laid her chin upon them.   I despise writing, Velandra thought, a tiny frown creasing her sharp brow. Inelegant, impersonal, empty; were I there myself, they would not waste my time with this frivolous nonsense. But she could not be everywhere; nor were they worth her time to make the journey personally. On the other hand, she couldn’t quite ignore the matter either.   The melody of the singing chimes continued, a lovely distraction to her irritable mind. Velandra looked off to the side, spying through the wide-open doors. Flowering beds and fruiting trees surrounded by soft grass, the faintly luminous, purple leaves of the trees drooping down from above. She considered a break; unfortunately, a different sort of ringing broke the calm. A three-step note, one that drew her eyes to the far end of her private temple. Velandra straightened upward and moved her hands into her lap, turning from a slouching writer to a regal lady in an instant.   “Enter,” she said, the commanding tone unmistakable. The crysium shoji slid open and she made out two forms: her maid, and an imposing presence behind her. Wrapped up in a dress of pale-purple silk and beautiful pink flower embroidery, it hardly dented Venyra's intimidating aura. As the two of them entered the hall, however, Velandra dryly noted the improperly done dress order. An outer layer tied with an inner, the belt woven between the two like a binder, and so many wrinkles.   So very typical of her.   Xiaomei kneeled by folding her legs underneath, then pressing her hands to the floor and resting her head atop of them. “I present the estimable lady Venyra, to her sovereign highness.”   “I receive her,” Velandra returned, waving a hand dismissively. The maid stood with a respectful quarter-bow, then shuffled out, sliding the shoji shut behind her. Formalities observed, Velandra’s impassive face broke into a small smile. “I see you were asleep still.”   “Practicing,” Venyra returned gruffly, scratching the back of her messy head. “What do you need?”   So much for having fun. “I may have a lead on your mother’s family,” Velandra said simply.   Venyra jolted as if struck by her words and her golden eyes widened for a moment. All at once her lax air turned into something different: a focused intent that made even Velandra straighten subconsciously. She walked purposefully in heavy steps toward the dais, vaunting up its short steps. Half-kneeling on the ground, she leaned onto the smooth white-wood table, almost wiping out the scroll Velandra worked on. “What is it?”   Let’s just save this first, Velandra thought, willing her magic into motion. The scroll twitched and shuddered before lifting from the table, floating off into a safe, empty spot in the air away from them. “Unlike the other times, this report has some substance. Sit, properly.”   Venyra did so, surprisingly without protest.   Through her magic, Velandra searched the pile of boxes and scrolls behind her. A featureless brown container, of simple packing paper and far too inelegant to be in her presence, lifted up. The lid pried itself off and a small, scraggly scroll of yellow-tinted parchment rose up, before it too unfurled itself. With a wave of her hand, it glided to Venyra, who ripped it out of the air. “It seems the Huong family has had a deserter in the past; a human woman of considerable martial skill. Why she left is mysteriously difficult to find despite how well known it was.”   “But that is the only thing familiar here,” Venyra returned, her eyes scanning up-and-down, right-to-left with each sentence on the report. “Nothing mentioning my father.”   “No, but another curious detail would be the changing of the Huong emblem.”   “Oh?” Venyra asked, peeking over the report just enough for her eyes. Velandra couldn’t help noting how very much like a cat she seemed.   “Draconic iconography is an old feature of theirs. They likened themselves within reach of dragons. Strangely, at around the same time this woman left—or, was banished—they changed their emblem, dropping the dragons completely.”   Venyra’s brow knitted a thought together with her curious gaze. “That’s not in this paper?”   “Parchment; and no, it is not. That was the only other thing my informants could give, it seems.”   “Hm …” Venyra’s throaty hum filled the air with the deep, bassy presence it had. “Then, I must go myself and find out.”   “There is a thought that has bothered me all these years.” When Venyra looked up at her again, she continued. “Without evidence, how did you intend to find the correct family?”   “Scent.”   “… I know dragons can scent their own bloodlines, but this is the human half.”   “Is there some reason I cannot scent that, too?”   For want of a better answer, Velandra shrugged her shoulders slightly. “I cannot be certain it will work. There is also the issue of how families work in these lands. If the Huong family is where your mother came from, then it becomes a matter of figuring out which branch was hers.”   “They are all the same family, does it matter?”   All sorts of ramifications popped up in Velandra’s mind, but she brushed them aside. “Sharing the same name is not sharing the same blood. Family is much more here than Aerthen: be certain you find them.”   A grunting ‘hmph’ answered back, and a minute later, Venyra handed the parchment over. Velandra let her magic take care of putting it away again. “I’ll be heading to their home, then,” Venyra stated, rising up from the table.   “As much as it may annoy you, I will be going.”   Venyra’s inscrutable gold eyes stared back into her own, oozing with an ‘oh really?’ atmosphere.   “Your righteous retribution aside, the Huong have not recognized my authority.” Velandra’s small smile joined the ethereal light brightening her eyes. “I have reason to make them do so, and that may help uncover this mystery woman’s story.”   Rolling her shoulders, Venyra merely stood up and started her way toward the shoji again. “If you wish.”   Before she had a chance to leave, Velandra asked, “I will be taking my lunch soon. Do you care for some yon-qi afterward?”   Stopping, Venyra’s head tilted. “Oh. That. A bit long for lunch, isn’t it?”   “I am in no great hurry.” Velandra took note of Venyra spying over her shoulder, hair framing her dark face with an alluring air. Such subtle motions and tiny changes, but beneath that impassable mountain of a façade, she saw the person. A tiny thrill crept in her chest when a half-cocked smirk flashed her way.   “Sure, that’d be fun,” Venyra said, and then waved over her shoulder as she left.   The quiet returned, filled by the gently singing wind chimes, ever wishing her calm and tranquility. Yet, the distraction that entered Velandra’s mind proved far too vexing to relax. Boredom was an easy evil to slay; intrigue, unfortunately, was an old nemesis. Letting out a sigh, she waved over the document, letting it splay out on the table once again and taking up her brush from its tray.   Not that she minded the distraction.     The courtyard stretched before Lanying, the flanks filled with servants and warriors. Firm in their regalia they awaited, a clear divide down the center for their imminent guest. Great trees stretched overhead, their turquoise leaves glimmering in the bright afternoon sunlight. Beneath sat the sun-drinking flowers, moving ever so slowly to catch the ever shifting rays through the canopy. At the far end loomed the courtyard gate, its thick walls hugging the open iron-barricade.   “Mirror.”   One of the man-servants hurried over and kneeled before her, unveiling the smooth, oval-shaped crystal. Lanying stared at her round face and big eyes, framed as it was by her braided hair and fine, twinkling jewels. Respectable; regal, undoubtedly. The clear skies and fair winds left her attire undisturbed and orderly. Yet the anxiousness in her bones remained hard to appease. Lanying waved the man-servant away and sat back into her chair.   “You mustn’t fuss with appearances now,” her grandmother, Meihui, said from beside her. “It conveys uncertainty, thus weakness.”   “Yes, Matriarch,” Lanying said, bowing her head slightly. “Keeping my calm is proving difficult.”   A short chuckle came from Meihui. “You face Relentless without pause, but a mere woman makes you uneasy?”   “Animals are simple; people are not.”   Another chuckle followed. “How astute, my granddaughter. Meditate on that thought deeply, it will serve you well.”   Lanying allowed herself a tiny smile. “Yes, grandmother.”   Mere moments later, she felt it. A wave of ineffable presence washed over the courtyard, her, and the entire palace that was their home. Lanying’s skin prickled and her heart began to thunder, a scream in the mind to look upward. She did, but nothing was to be seen through the canopy or farther in the sky. All others stood on edge, rigid with an alertness plainly visible on their faces. The all-consuming presence reminded her of something; it was like a cloud passing in front of the sun. The world had no choice but to be blanketed in its shadow, but there were no clouds on this day.   “She comes,” Meihui declared simply, gaze set forward.   If she felt any unease, there was no hint of it in her weathered, stoic face. Lanying followed her eyes and saw something rather peculiar. A shadow grew across the courtyard, vague at first, but ever becoming clearer. Rather than that of an animal, it seemed a square, or perhaps a box. Low humming filled the air, one that rattled the senses with its droning. Then, all who wondered soon saw it, a sight that left some slack-jawed, and even Lanying went wide-eyed.   A shrine descended from the sky, coming to a rest just above the courtyard’s gatehouse. By her count, fifteen people sat on the shrine steps, shrouded in their solemn warrior-robes. Their dark purple attire stood sharply against the building’s white-wood, itself sporting dark drapes. Flush with golden filigree and accents, the three together stood in a jarring harmony, each of them a rich flavor competing against another. The longer she stared, the more a realization dawned upon her. It isn’t a shrine, it’s a jiao, Lanying thought, lips pursed tightly.   A flying carriage in the form of rich decoration, and spacious enough for all the attendants of its owner.   She gazed into the drapes, hiding the woman that she was to meet.   The many people on the jiao stood up from their cross-legged sitting. Accompanying them were the many, many bricks underneath the jiao flying out suddenly. As birds would in a great flock, they flew in a circle, then rushed toward its front. Clapping together with furious fervor, Lanying watched a staircase form before her eyes, connecting the jiao to her courtyard. Without missing a beat, the attendants began descending. A servant led the front, while the fourteen guards followed behind her.   “Do you remember the way to confront a tagraxi?” Meihui asked, jarring Lanying.   “Always stare into its eyes, and never let your fear be scented.”   “Let us regard this one no differently.”   A trickle of fear entered Lanying’s mind. In spite of the strong front her grandmother put up, such veiled words betrayed her unease. She regarded the strangers arraying themselves in her courtyard all the more seriously. Seven on either side and the servant front and center, hands clasped together inside her sleeves. Beneath her demure stature and build, she stood with an uncompromising resolve, far more than someone pressed into servitude.   “I, first maid Xiaomei, present her supreme power, sovereign of all heavens, Velandra!”   The declaration came clearly, spoken true and unflinching. Lanying hadn’t a moment to consider the absurdity of its nature before the drapes of the jiao peeled open. Two figures stepped through, one as different from the other as the sun and the moons. To the right stood a shorter one of far darker skin, covered in coal-colored scale armor. A veil of crimson hair shrouded her terrifying face, punctuated by two golden, draconic eyes. Yet, as Lanying looked to the other, any doubt as to who she was laid to rest. Obsidian armor, adorned with beautiful teal-like blue iconography, and a flowing dress, fit for a fight at a moment’s notice. The four-pronged crown-helm and sweeping shoulders brought together her attire, ever evocative of dragons and their might.   The two began walking down the steps together; a notable difference in their mannerisms. The sovereign strode with a measured step and her hands folded behind her back, while the one beside her took heavy, stomping ones. The latter certainly moved as a warrior, but Lanying saw no weapons on her. When they reached the final steps, the flanking guards raised their spears in exaltation. Then, something rather curious happened. The shorter one took to the ground like any other person, but Velandra kept moving through the air. Every footstep of hers met a solid, glimmering band of purple gossamer, arriving and vanishing with every step.   A mage who can walk in the air, Lanying realized, a sweaty droplet falling down her face.   In no uncertain terms, she would be hopelessly outclassed in a duel. Her jaw clenched, and Lanying waited as the two approached. Xiaomei walked in front of them, as was ever proper for a first maid. Even in the face of the unstoppable tagraxi, victory can still be found, she mused grimly.   The Huong attendants and warriors became as statues, proper in form and position, unmoving even as the shadow over them grew heavier.   Xiaomei, Velandra, and the unnamed woman stopped at the proper distance: just far enough not even a flashing spear draw could kill.   Lanying gazed upon the stranger, ill-at-ease with her inhuman features. A dragon? No, where are her wings and tail, then?   “I, Huong Meihui, receive the illustrious sovereign to our noble home,” Meihui said, her aged but refined voice cutting the air. In a way, for the Huong family it was a reprieve from Velandra’s overbearing presence. At the reception, Xiaomei bowed and shuffled off to the side, leaving the four of them to face each other. “For what purpose would the sovereign visit us? We have no business with the lands of Tomu.”   “True, and the Huong family has ever preferred to be left alone,” Velandra said, the resonance of her voice enough to unsettle nerves. “But any mountain spring that does not flow is doomed to stagnation, is it not?”   “I have heard of the sovereign’s sharp tongue! But to speak so boldly that my Huong family is stagnant!” Meihui laughed, a sound not at all mirthful. “For what reason might I thank you slapping my face like this?”   “It is simple! The lands of Tomu swell on the rising tide. But so too do the lands of Maika and Aochen. Not to speak of the great families, who have uprooted themselves to find new grounds to live in.” A small, almost polite smile etched across Velandra’s face, all the more menacing in the shadow of her helm. “I do not speak in riddles, and this is why I slap your face. The Huong are forthright and so am I. Will you not offer tea to discuss how our futures might align?”   For all the audacity, an inkling of truth could be heard. As far away as they lived, not even the Huong might avoid all their neighboring lands if they awoke. Lanying grit her teeth, an even more daunting shadow looming on her mind’s horizons.   “Alas, I am old, and there are few leaves left on my branches, noble sovereign,” Meihui said, smiling enigmatically. “I thank you for waking up my dreary eyes, but it is my place to nurture our Huong’s saplings. Instead, I introduce my granddaughter, Lanying.”   Eh? Grandmother? Lanying, startled by being signaled out, took all her focus to avoid looking away from Velandra. Those glowing purple eyes locked onto her, staring with a mystifying veil she couldn’t pierce.   “She has passed the rites, and will become matriarch in time. You speak of futures, and it is she who will guide us. I leave the matter in her care.”   “Ho?” Velandra’s brow curled up and her eyes became sharper.   Straightening her already straight back, Lanying met the look with resolve. “Your words have given me concern. I invite you to tea, sovereign Velandra. Whether or not you have a future with our Huong family, it is only for the Heavens to foresee.” Raising a hand curtly in signal, her attendants broke ranks, forming a column that marched into the family home proper. Lanying herself rose to a stand, followed by her grandmother. “Accompany us then, we will convene in the comfort of the gardens.”   And so Velandra and her retinue fell in behind her.     “… The situation being what it is, our Huong family has no reason to move yet,” Lanying said, a tone of finality to her words.   “Yes, but you misunderstand my purpose in asking,” Velandra returned in kind, eyes peeled with the hint of a smirk.   “Oh?” Lanying shifted on her padded cushion, leaning onto an elbow.   “The Huong remaining as they are is quite ideal for me. You see …”   Venyra tuned out the rest of their conversation. The air was quiet and the veltron settled; nothing dangerous to be found at all. Leaning on the thin stone railing, she stared down at the babbling brook underneath. Such a simple sight, but one that occupied the mind just enough to stave off boredom. She aimlessly looked at one smooth rock to another, all piled together in a constructed bed. A lot of short-stemmed mountain flowers grew along aside it, their blue petals shimmering with the faintest glow of mana.   A presence from behind followed the shuffling of feet wearing sandals. Venyra shifted slightly, just enough to see from the corner of her eye. The old woman Meihui apparently headed next to her. A politely respectable distance, though close enough her scaly-skin tightened with agitation.   “Forgive my impropriety in approaching,” Meihui said.   Venyra tilted her head for a moment. “It is your house.”   “Indeed.” Meihui stood against the railing, not quite leaning on it heavily like Venyra. “We Huong try our utmost to respect the dragons and those with their blood.”   “Even if I’m not from these lands?”   “Great beings are rarely far from each other in this world.”   Mulling the thought over for a moment, Venyra simply shrugged. “Probably.”   A silence, punctuated by the chatting behind them, quickly stepped in. When she considered who was beside her, however, Venyra realized a rather useful fact. There was no other more ideally suited to ask than her. Direct and unsubtle, of course, but she hadn’t the time to waste snooping in a library. Or, asking weaklings who never knew anything to begin with. Straightening up, she regarded Meihui more directly, a gesture returned in kind. “You’re the head, and about the right age. Do you know someone by the name of Haranyra?”   People had all sorts of reactions; conscious or not. Controlling both was a sign of mistressy over one’s self in many ways. But there were some things that couldn’t be masked. Inalienable parts of the body that betrayed the person, if one looked rightly. To Venyra’s nose and eyes, the subtlest indications of stress became evident almost immediately. The slight tightening of the jaw, the whole transformation of the body from relaxed to anxious, and the tell-tale stench that followed. All of these, easy to hide at a distance; but not as close as they were. Not to her.   You do.   Meihui, quite surprisingly, nodded, her wrinkled face turning back to the charming flowers and sand gardens farther away. “An old, old name. I was twenty summers when he visited our family.”   Her fortunes couldn’t be so good. Another dragon of the same name would be highly unlikely; but still, suspicion kept Venyra alive. “Tell me about him? I need to know if he’s the same one.”   With a rueful smile, Meihui chuckled. “Oh, where to even start? A dazzling dragon he was, and a capable enough fighter. We women were hardly a match for him, until Chabei answered his boasting finally.”   Two for two.   Scratching her own head, Venyra said, “So, what, she kicked his ass to the forests or …?”   “No, no,” Meihui chuckled, though there was no mirth. “The two fell in, wild as a storm. They left long ago; tell me, why are you searching for him?”   If this was the family her mother came from, why did her father never mention them by name? It made no sense; but try as Venyra did, she couldn’t entirely recall. He probably did, and she forgot it as children are wont to do. Affixing an impassive look at Meihui, she simply said, “He owes me a debt.”   Whether or not she believed it, Meihui gave a nod in return.   “How absurd!” Lanying’s sudden yell drew both their attention, the heir-apparent seeming quite rankled. “That would divulge the secrets of our great family!”   This again? Venyra wondered with a gay little laugh in her mind. She all but felt Velandra’s eyes rolling, even as the sovereign kept an impassive façade. Meihui pointedly headed back to the table and Venyra followed after lazily. While the three of them took to sitting properly, she plopped down by Velandra’s side, cross-legged and slouching without much care.   “… The matter being what it is, it is not to take your family’s prized techniques,” Velandra said, a stern tone edging her words. “I doubt there is anything among them even worthy of my attention, let alone desire.”   That struck a nerve with how the two Huong women’s faces tightened.   “But all the same, you say to open the scrolls our initiates study under! The roots of anyone would betray what grows out of them,” Lanying retorted sharply.   Smiling a polite, if venomous smile, Velandra took a moment to sip some tea before setting her cup down again. “Which is why, any great family of renown has a derivative set of techniques. Their roots remain hidden, and so their strength is secure. Unless you mean to tell me that the Huong do not practice this? … No?”   Neither answered when it would’ve been appropriate.   “Quite simply, the Xaishan Accord is meant to uplift initiates who failed their family’s techniques. There are those, are there not, who possess talent and ability, but fail your measure all the same?”   “There are, but it is upon them to meet our techniques, not to abandon them!”   “Even the mightiest fish would fail if you asked it to walk on land,” Velandra returned dryly, a sucker punch delivery that left Lanying taken aback. “Consider what it might bring to you to have these ‘failures’ bring forth new talents to the family.”   “Forgive me,” Meihui interjected, smiling disarmingly. “I was captured by another for a moment. What is this Xaishan Accord you speak of?”   Velandra raised a hand, and ever dutiful Xiaomei stepped in from the sideline, carrying a long, thin rectangular box. A hint of magical power surrounded and lifted it from her hands, and at Velandra’s beckoning, it glided toward Lanying and Meihui. “It would be simpler to read the terms of the accord. It is, after all, the binding words.”   “I thank the sovereign,” Meihui returned politely, and together with Lanying, opened the box. They retrieved a rather bulky scroll, unfurling and reading it with hushed whispers.   A touch of pressure on her shoulder caught Venyra’s attention; the eerily familiar sensation of magic weighing upon her as an invisible hand. Taking the signal for what it was, she shifted over closer beside Velandra, who leaned in.   “Well?” Velandra asked in a lowly hushed voice.   “… They both met here. But, I haven’t scented anything at all,” Venyra said.   “Mm.” Velandra nodded. “Did you get her family name, at least?”   The Huong rolled up the scroll and Venyra sat back at a more ‘appropriate’ distance.   Of the two, Meihui had the most vexed look upon her aged face. “I must admit, this proposal is … unusually generous.”   “My lands have no need for greed,” Velandra declared, the certainty and power of her voice making everyone straighten up. “But, I have no patience for those who think we are to scurry from opportunity. Between these two, I am certain you see what potential awaits.”   “I do, but understandably I must confer with the other family heads on such an important matter.” Meihui bowed her head; thus, proper decorum for finalizing the conversation. Lanying followed after, though her eyes betrayed a frustration yet restrained. “It will take us the rest of the day to discuss this matter. If it is no trouble, we shall reconvene at tomorrow’s lunch.”   “So it is said,” Velandra affirmed.   “Lanying,” Meihui said, turning toward the woman. “I shall call when the family heads are assembled. Show our prized home to our guests.”   For all of their formalities and decorum, the people of Nerzin were just that—people. Venyra saw in Lanying’s tight expression what she’d seen so many times before: suffering pride. As Lanying bowed and said words of courtesy, emotions roiled just underneath. Humans understood it, supposedly, but her draconic eyes saw more. For an inheritor, she does take offense, Venyra mused, standing up with everyone else. They all took their leave: Meihui departing with the scroll, while Lanying led her and Velandra away. Both their attendants trailed behind, dutifully distant and quiet.   “I apologize for having no theater ready,” Lanying said, hands folded together in her voluminous sleeves. “It is our quiet season and the actors are indisposed.”   Where in the world would they go? Venyra wondered, seeing as the Huong lived only on their mountain range.   “It is no trouble,” Velandra said dismissively. “That large market of yours is more intriguing.”   “What might catch the sovereign’s eye?”   “For all your famed hunting, what do you have for magical reagents?”   Lanying looked up, deep in thought, but her feet ever steady as they walked on. “Most of it is quite raw still. If that is no bother, we can go peruse the wares.”   Wait, a fast one was being pulled on her. Venyra shot a glance at Velandra, and saw a glowing eye spying at her. Then, all sneaky and stealthy, Velandra looked forward again. A small smirk betrayed her wicked intentions, and Venyra’s lips pursed together tightly. She couldn’t very well just ditch, whether for Velandra’s proprietary or the fact there was nowhere to go.   Truly, her lover was insidiously dangerous.   Shopping, really … Venyra resisted sighing.   A spacious room had been prepared for them: a creamy tatami floor accompanied by wild, green-vine painted walls, and a balcony to the main bidding hall. With all the attendants outside or elsewhere, just the three of them sat inside, and Venyra was about ready to fall asleep. Velandra had been glued to scroll-after-scroll of inventory lists, from the mundane to the ‘exotic’, while Lanying provided unerring commentary on where the finds came from.   They’d made a show of involving her at first, but one ingredient was no different than the rest to her. At least there was the nice drink they got her. Unlike the stuff served in Velandra’s palace, it had a much harder, veltrony taste. More at home in Aerthen than Nerzin, but refreshingly familiar. It only did so much before the boredom finally bit her. Rising up from the velvety green, padded cushion, she waved off both their curious looks. “I’m gonna look at their weapons.”   “Mm, very well,” Velandra said, sounding almost reluctant. “But do not stray too far.”   Rolling her eyes, Venyra opened the paper shoji door and headed out. Xiaomei, ever dutiful, was waiting outside and rose up from her seat on the ground. “I’m just looking around,” she remarked, and the head servant nodded.   “Do you need accompaniment or …?”   “No. I’ll be fine.”   “Of course. Please take this,” Xiaomei said, extending both hands out. A rectangular medallion sat in her palms, ostensibly jade or some kind of green gemstone. Venyra picked it up by the red cord looped through it, eyeballing the dragon-like embellishment it had. “A token of importance in the market.”   Venyra grunted an acknowledgement and left down a flight of rounded, winding stairs. Xiaomei bowed at her departure.   In passing two intersections and checkpoints, Venyra arrived at the ‘ground level’. The trader’s thoroughfare was a long strip built out of the side of a cliff, with an expansive bricked floor connecting the add-on areas to the wall. Such close quarters left it cramped, with most stalls and shops being packed next to one another. Despite that, spacious streets saw people moving up and down in singular directions, making certain that traffic wouldn’t log jam. Curious eyes, overt and not, glanced at her arrival.   Would it be her different looks? Or her heavy armor, clanking with every step she took? With such a rumble of conversation and noise about the place, she doubted anyone heard her at all. People wisely avoided her, unsubtly diverting to the sides. Venyra kept on all the same, lazily looking to her left and right. Huh, it is a bit different here, she mused. Many of the wares were in varying states of usefulness—hides untanned, raw ores sifted from dirt but not smelted to ingots, and certainly a lot of body parts. A lot of body parts, she realized, with most stalls handling animal parts to some degree or another.   Amidst them, however, she spotted a different stall coming up on her right. More of a stone hut than a wooden stall, it seemed built into the cliff proper, and a chimney spewed out a steady plume of smoke. There wasn’t much for signage when she reached the front, and too curious to resist, poked her head inside. Hanging crysium lanterns lit the insides, fighting against the blasting red-hot heat of a forge farther in the back. Venyra’s gold eyes sparkled at the sight of metal-forged weapons and armor, and she stepped in quickly.   Divided racks defined entire aisles, while the walls had mounts displaying everything from simple daggers to intricate, two-handed long swords. A few patrons were already inside, too absorbed to notice her. The imposing woman standing at the counter at the far end, however, certainly did.   “Welcome, welcome!” she said, waving Venyra over. “Haven’t seen your face before, where ya from?”   “Visiting from afar. You the smith?”   “That I am. Need something repaired?”   “No. Do you have anything fire-resistant?”   “Fire, is it?” The smith crossed her arms, her tight face scrunching in thought. “Might be a few pieces for a mage.”   Venyra smiled wryly and shook her head. “No, dragon fire.”   The smith slapped her hand on the countertop and laughed. “Not a damn thing for dragon fire! Well—actually,” she coughed into her hand. “Let me go ask the mistress back there just to be sure.”   “Alright.”   Left alone at the counter, Venyra leaned onto it and waited. The smith returned soon, accompanied by a shorter woman much farther along in age. Yet that wasn’t the greatest difference between them—the smith had all the bustle and strength, while the elder remained calm and resolute. A fool might mistake it for weakness, but Venyra saw her fierce aura all the same. It made her stand up straighter, the veil of boredom pushed back by heightened alertness.   “I see what you mean,” the elder said to the smith, staring at Venyra through thin, piercing eyes. “You there, you’re dragon-kin, are you not?”   “What gave it away?” Venyra asked sardonically before shaking her head. “I am no dragon.”   “Yet you have their blood.”   “I do.”   The elder smiled tightly and bowed—friendly, but not inordinately ingratiating. “Then you are a most honored guest to receive. May I know of your name?”   “Venyra.”   Something about it seemed to spook her, for the elder stood up a touch straighter. A different sort of scrutinizing gaze fell upon Venyra, staring at her intensely. “Venyra … so it goes, a dragon’s name. Among dragons, then, do you know one called Haranyra?”   That perked her ears up, and Venyra cast a most suspicious gaze back in return. “My father, undoubtedly.”   The elder blinked, taken aback so much her junior had to catch her from falling. Reassuring them she was fine, she came to the counter, almost visibly angry that it was in the way. “You! You’re his daughter?” Almost immediately, as if coming to her senses, she whipped a hand up. “No, no. This is too public. Come with me.”   Blinking at the sudden turn of events, Venyra found herself invited in by both smiths, and so stepped around the concealing wall. Here, the hotter, furnace-kissed air became more to her liking. The taste of burning coals and an acrid hint of metals warmed her senses even more. With the red-hot furnace at the far end of the long room, she and the elder smith took seats at a run-down, round-topped table. The seats and wood alike were beaten and worn in, a luxury she couldn’t feel in her heavy armor.   Wiping her blackened-face clean with a torn rag, the elder smith bowed to Venyra, her forehead almost touching the tabletop. “This Biyu pays respects to great Haranyra’s daughter.”   For want of anything to say to the contrary, Venyra awkwardly returned the bow, receiving the praise.   “To think he departs this world … it casts a shadow upon this day,” Biyu said, still staring at the ground.   “You knew him?”   At this, Biyu sat upright, her stern face beside itself with another emotion. “We all did. I myself received one lesson from him—what a lesson it was! His passion lit the grandest halls brighter than any forge. All of this—” she flippantly waved a hand at the workshop behind her “—I did because of him. I wouldn’t of found my own little flame for the work without him.”   Her father never really talked about his work. She did remember one remark about missing the heat of a workshop, but until now, Venyra hadn’t connected it to a forge. Her gold eyes slowly swept toward the flame-churning furnace, feeling it appropriate for him. Ah, our blood is drawn to fire? she mused with a wry smile. Not really that surprising ...   “Forgive the impertinence but tell me, how did this fate befall him?”   Sharply drawn back to conversation, Venyra regarded Biyu with reservation. “Me, in a sense.”   A confused stare answered back.   Venyra sighed and said, “My father’s family, and my mother’s family; neither abided their union. So they came, and killed my mother. My father, broken and crippled, was left in his family’s dungeon until I came of age. Then they killed him.”   To many others, such a tale wrought terrible emotions. Biyu fared no different, her face contorting in shock and rage, then sadness and despair. All of it, brought to heel by an iron will, controlled if only just. “This! This is an injustice!” she stammered, her voice peaking and hand slamming onto the table. “We must tell the Matriarch! Haranyra did not deserve such a fate!”   Venyra held up a gloved hand. “Still your anger. His family is already dead.”   “Truly? Then … then …” Exhaling, Biyu took a moment and then nodded. “That is good. What of your mother’s family, then?”   “That is why I am here.”   Biyu’s brow furrowed. “What you say?”   “Do you remember the human woman, Chabei, who once lived here?”   “Eh? Honchi Chabei? She who splits stones with her hands?” Biyu asked in bewilderment.   “The one my father fancied.”   “She—she’s your mother?!” Biyu slapped her hands on the table, bewildered. “She died?!”   “When I was still a babe,” Venyra affirmed with a half-hearted shrug. “Her family killed her, so my father told me.”   “That can’t be! No, no, that can’t be at all!”   Before the woman had a chance to fly out of her chair, Venyra’s heavy gaze kept her seated. “And why is that?”   “The Honchi family, all their roots were ripped right out! Who would go and kill her then?”   Venyra’s head tilted, the sheer ridiculousness of the idea catching her off guard. “Her family died out?”   “Yes! By Linxinfa, that cursed maggot-spawn,” Biyu said, all but spitting the name out like a curse.   That name tickled something in Venyra’s mind, but for the life of her, she couldn’t grab it. Scratching at her cheek, she said, “Hold on. Explain all of this.”   As if brought to conspiracy, Biyu scooted her seat closer, huddling against the table. “Your father, he didn’t explain this?”   “Either he didn’t know, or being left in constant pain dulled his memory,” Venyra remarked dryly.   “… ehm, I see. Then, I will. Ah, but—” she looked over to the other smith, standing by with a hawkish interest. “Go! Shut the shop. Lunch break or something!” As if struck by lightning, the smith scurried off to the front of the store. At that, Biyu turned back to Venyra. “Thankfully, it is not a long tale. Before Haranyra came, Linxinfa visited our Huong family. Resplendent, beautiful, graceful … lots of pretty words, all hiding the rotten heart in her chest.”   Venyra nodded along.   “Huong family very grateful to receive a true ryujin! Acknowledgement from dragons certainly emboldened us all. But, Linxinfa took a fancy to Chabei—she wanted her to become a prized concubine.”   Venyra’s nodding ceased in a jarring pause. “What?”   “Mn, just so,” Biyu said agreeingly. “Honchi family very honored by such, but Chabei didn’t want it. It was out of my ears, but I heard about a big fight between Honchi and Huong over it. Linxinfa left, promising to visit in a few more years once they decided. After she left, Haranyra arrived.”   Piece-by-piece, an idea of sorts built itself in her mind. “My mother would’ve had to become a concubine.”   “Probably. Linxinfa, great name, and a powerful family. Huong not dare offend or invite calamities on us all.”   “… And my father helped her to escape?” Venyra mused aloud.   Biyu, likewise seeming deep in thought, nodded. “I think so. Haranyra and Chabei got along well. Then one day, both go missing. Honchi family had a letter from Chabei, but I’m uncertain what about. Around a year later, Linxinfa returns, seeking her concubine. Honchi try defending Chabei’s honor and greatly offend Linxinfa.”   “Who kills the Honchi family.”   “Mn. There was some talk about Huong putting Honchi to the blade to appease Linxinfa. Afterward, Linxinfa leaves, and Huong take down all the finery of dragons.”   Then, it wasn’t my mother’s family, but this Linxinfa who killed her? Venyra wondered. It still didn’t quite fit right together. Her father would’ve known about Linxinfa, and she doubted he made such an easy mistake calling her ‘family’. Unless the Huong were definitely involved and he grouped them together? That sounded the most plausible to her.   But it remained to be seen whose hands had her mother’s blood on them.   Venyra stood up, an idea coming to mind. Before she made to leave, however, she looked back upon Biyu. Giving a half-nod, half-bow, she said simply, “You’ve given me something great.”   Biyu bowed back in kind. “For the daughter of Haranyra and Chabei, I wish I could offer more. If you ever need anything, come. The greatest blacksmith on this mountain will do all she can.”   Thus it came to be that Venyra left, finding her way back to Velandra, who immediately noticed her pointed look. It would not be until bedtime that evening she conveyed all she learned, and the two conspired together.     When she was a little girl, the Grand Hall had always been such fun to visit. Immense pillars wrapped in twinkling crysium-paper leaves, a towering roof, and tapestries of the Six Families with richly detailed stitching. Open windows let the summer air in, rattling the wind chimes and sending sweet, gentle melodies down in secretive ways. The elders would make their announcements, and then food and drink would follow, scores of servants laying out a wonderful buffet. Those who couldn’t eat at the highest of high seats of the family heads went outside, enjoying the patio deck and its view of all their homeland.   How Lanying pined for those days.   Rarer were the celebrations or announcements; now she only had arguments and buffoonery to look forward to. Knees folded beneath her, along with a small, inoffensive smile, and a spear-straight back, as ever demanded of the Huong matriarch. As the heir-apparent, such proper manners and more were expected of her, especially under the gaze of the six family heads. Yet the sight before her was one that a little—just a little—made her wonder.   If the six family heads yelled at each other so brazenly, how ironic it fell to her to carry on propriety.   “Enough!” Meihui demanded, slapping a fan to the white-wood table. The loud crack silenced the bickering, if for the moment. “Once again we lose ourselves to inanity. Find your faculties or I will throw you out to look for them.”   For as much as she might disagree with her grandmother, the woman commanded the Huong family absolutely. Lanying glanced beside her, gazing upon the matriarch for a moment. Then, returning to the table in front of her, she said, “Some have said—” her eyes grazed over a few choice people “—that I seek to weaken the Huong. Set such tasteless jokes aside, or your sincerity here might be questioned.”   “How delightful the kitten roars at our table!” came the shrill cry, ever expected from Meirong. The head of the Daron family scowled, her already twisted features positively wretched looking. “Yet all you have said is just that! Shall we break our knees and walk to Tomu because you think it is a good idea?”   “I invite you to set an example for us all to follow,” Lanying returned dryly. A barely-caught snort came off from the side, three sets of eyes coming to regard Peizhi, who hid behind her flower blossom-patterned sleeve.   “To return us all to the proper path,” Meihui said, admirably bringing order through words alone. “Let us find the evils plaguing these talks. Meirong, having said hers, I urge Suoqin family’s Aoha to speak hers.”   Lanying looked over to one of the two ‘young’ family heads, even if she was still late into her fifty summers. Unlike all the others, her aim always firmly ended up in Lanying’s arguments. It rather intrigued how why now, of all times, a rather reliable ally spoke out.   “I thank the Matriarch,” Aoha said, bowing properly before righting up. “Our Suoqin do not hold much in the way of martial forms. On such a front, I will not speak. In that of trade and construction, however, all come to us. As the family head, I am most concerned with Tomu’s new taxation demands.”   A silence followed; cluing in on the opportunity, Lanying said, “In what way?”   “In specific, their redefining of trade groupings. While I would dare to say quite a lot of thought went into it, we will be changing many of our own laws to meet the accord. Some goods will be taxed more heavily; further, there is the matter of sending the taxes to Tomu’s Central Government.”   “… Central Government?” Jialei Qaodan, the ever-enigmatic priestess, spoke up from her end of the table. “What do you mean?   Lanying spoke up then, holding up a hand briefly for attention. “The Central Government presumes to command the laws of all lands and their taxes. It ensures a shared standard of every abiding land, while the everyday affairs are left to the actual ruling families.”   “How would people outside of our Huong family know how to manage our lands?” Qaodan asked, her airy speculation belying the frightening scrutiny within. “One shouldn’t expect a monkey to tell a dragon what to do.”   “I would confirm it with the sovereign herself.”   The tap-tap-tap of a finger on the table punctuated Lanying’s words, and Meirong’s ever unpleasant atmosphere darkened. “Am I the only one who sees the insanity of that? Outsiders telling we Huong how to live on our lands?”   “To return to Suoqin Aoha,” Lanying said, smiling demurely and regarding the family head, utterly ignoring Meirong. “You mentioned how we might send the taxes?”   “Hm? Quite. It is no small distance going to Tomu, even if their borders come nearer to us. Their offices will not move, unless their castles suddenly sprout legs now.”   “I spoke of this with the sovereign, as it would be.” Lanying shifted, feeling the weight of rather interested eyes bearing down on her. “Part of the collected taxes goes toward a unified guard—the army of Tomu. They handle the trade routes, clearing out bandits and Relentless. By joining the accord, one would be built out to us. A genuine safe passage from our lands to the others.”   “That is not easy, but, hmm.” Aoha rubbed her chin, her jeweled fingers clacking together in a rhythmic noise. “I cannot imagine this army would have an easy time of the Relentless here.”   Lanying shook her head. “By themselves, no, even I am doubtful. Powerful as the sovereign might be, her army is another matter. If we were to bring our own guard to bear, however, you can see how feasible it might become.”   “Maybe. I know our own strengths; I do not know Tomu’s. To do such grand work only to be met by milk-supping babes would be a disgraceful waste of time.”   “On that,” the once-quiet Taifa Yan spoke up, setting a thickly gloved hand and padded arm on the table noisily, “this sovereign. Who is she, really? All the families of Tomu bow to her? Now she knocks down our door with this evil aura?”   “I cannot help but concur,” Qaodan said, wrinkled visage pulling tight in dismay. “A rather ominous shadow descended with her visit upon us.”   Lanying stared at the two of them, rather beside herself. They don’t know? she marveled for a moment, almost giddy at having such an advantageous position. Still, she schooled her features lest she give herself away. “About that … hm. I am indeed the only one here to have visited Tomu in the last few years, yes?”   A round of agreements, grunting affirmations, and other acknowledgements answered.   “Then, I shall regale you all. I know her to be a mage; powerful in a unique magical art. Many persons I met were utterly mad trying to ascertain her secrets, both great and small. While none knew the truth, most told of the same stories.” Lanying paused to take a sip of water; the others followed as well. “Born gifted, her family grew jealous and scornful. They cast her away to a prison in the mists before she came of age. But ever growing stronger, she broke out. It is said she went to the family who presided over her land, and finding them most wicked, struck them down. From hence on, none proved more able than her, and so she ruled, her prowess compelling land-after-land in Tomu to bow before her.”   “Quite a tall tale,” Aoha remarked.   Lanying made a show of shrugging half-heartedly. “It is the most reliable I pieced together. Those who speak ill of her do more because of her policies than any wicked deeds. That so many great families fall in line speaks of her power, however true those stories are. I do not quite believe she destroyed an army of 10,000 by herself.”   Yan chuckled at the thought, shaking her head. “No one would be so boastful.”   Lanying smiled wryly. “Nor I. Yet, lady Qaodan speaks of a dark and ominous shadow—I know that to be wrong.”   “You speak too confidently for one seeking to heckle,” Qaodan said, an eye cracked open with a piercing glare.   “I do, for I know that to be the sovereign’s great power itself.”   Qaodan, rather unlike herself, slapped a hand on the table, large and round prayer beads rattling. “Ridiculous! No mage can cast magic that envelops all of our home in such a way!”   “It is a rather absurd idea,” Meihui added, agreeing with a frown.   Lanying couldn’t stop herself from smiling, glowing with a smugness that Meirong definitely noticed.   “The kitten has something to say about that, it appears.”   “I do, for there is one convincing thing I witnessed with my own two eyes. May the great forbearers of the Huong slit my throat if I speak a lie about it!” Perhaps stunned by Lanying’s sudden, determined proclamation, the table fell silent. “I visited the capital of Tomu, on my way home again. That day, I beheld a sight along with many others. From the skies descended a mighty palace, glimmering with wondrous buildings and flowing waters. I thought I lost my mouth on the ground seeing it!” Laughing, even though no one else did, Lanying calmed herself after a moment. “Can any of you guess what the peasants did?”   No one rose to answer.   “They kept walking about! I stopped one and asked them about it. ‘Oh, that’s just the sovereign visiting again’, they said, and then went on their way. Imagine that! Imagine a sight worthy of the divine and that is what they say!”   The other elders, taken aback by what she said, looked to one another. Whether stunned by it or something else, silence drifted in between them, a welcome reprieve in their otherwise endless discussion. It would be Feishu Peizhi who spoke next, the second of the two youngest family heads. Scarcely ten summers older than Lanying, her meekness often beget scorn and ridicule; doomsayers foretold the end of the Feishu.   “If I may?” she asked, holding a hand up.   “I will listen to the Feishu,” Meihui acknowledged.   “The others have spoken of Tomu, for better or worse. But, I have not heard why we must or mustn’t join Tomu’s Xaishan Accord. Is there no possibility of allying with Aochen? Or Maika?”   “… Aochen is a difficult matter,” Meihui said solemnly. “We would be made to bow and forfeit ourselves to them. This I know for certain; do not ask about it.”   “Leaving just Maika,” Yan cut, looking rather sour in her stout face. “Which is far away; farther than Tomu or Aochen. No one worth their blade would bother with us. That leaves just Tomu; if we scorn them, then we have no allies in the heartlands. When they come to our doorstep, as lady Lanying says, it will be only our arms against theirs.”   “Do I detect fear, lady Yan?”   Yan shot a withering glare at Meirong’s barb, her knuckles rapping on the table a few times. “We can handle the Relentless. Survive and thrive, as always. Add into that Tomu or Aochen earnestly seeking conquest, and even I will pause. The fact is, there is only so much we can do.”   “What nonsense!” Meirong shouted, her voice cracking with a shrill note. “Have you all forgotten those from Tomu and Aochen once tried to conquer our lands? They failed! Not by diplomacy or any petty hiding behind words, but us! We Huong and our own strength of arm! Relentless or not, all were brought to account. For what need have we of forsaking our strength to invite in foreigners?”   There just wasn’t a way to have a useful conversation with the woman. Her own grandmother’s withering sigh spoke volumes enough, and Lanying knew of their history together. Still, for as lukewarm as the other family heads were being, the possibility of convincing them remained. If need be, she would just step around Meirong and her Daron family branch. She needed something—anything—overwhelming enough to make her point win.   Something.   Something …   Lanying, a fist curled under her chin, thought and thought. Even as the fighting began again, Meirong and Yan this time going to verbal blows, she tried to see beyond them all. She had to, if her Huong family was to survive.     “Preposterous! Our family has no need of outsiders.”   “And yet the trade routes are already there. What more is there if they are expanded to reach us?”   “So the merchants promise, but when the Relentless prowl, suddenly they are not so inclined to honor agreements!”   Back and forth, back and forth. Velandra had taken some offense at being forced to negotiate in a pavilion previously. Yet, in the Huong family’s Grand Hall, she suddenly found it had been a prudent decision. Seated at the grand white-wood table along with the family heads, the Matriarch, and her heir apparent, it was a nonstop charade of old people yelling at each other. By all accounts, they hardly found agreement with each other, let alone her.   Velandra maintained own proper posture, but Venyra had no such scruples, grinning with a stupid laughing smile the entire time beside her. Sucking in a breath and sighing through her nose, Velandra spared herself a glance upward, staring into the empty rafters of the tall ceiling. Crysium lanterns hung above, twinkling with a sun-colored light in a quaint little show that did nothing to distract her. Really, this has gone on long enough now.   Intent became purpose, and her will bloomed, and all the hall fell silent in an instant under her immense weight. All their eyes turned toward her, only to find her displeased scowl glowering from within her regal helm. “Truly the Huong embarrass me to witness such a sight,” Velandra said, the full force of her resonant voice filling the Grand Hall. “Rather than come with a decision, you squabble as children. If my agreement is so unconvincing, then—”   “It is not that it is unconvincing!” Lanying cut in, surprisingly capable where the others struggled keeping their posture. She held her own against Velandra’s inscrutable gaze when it turned upon her. “Generous as it is, it still demands great change from us.”   “The simplicity of that change begets direction, does it not?” Flourishing her hand in a sweep, Velandra sternly regarded all present. “But I have only heard how much better the Huong would be alone at the end of the lands.”   An elderly woman, farther along than even Meihui, spoke up then. “For we have! When others come, they bring only strife and discord to our Huong family.” She slammed her fist down onto the table, weathered eyes peeled in a vicious scowl. “You propose to open our doors?! Change our ways?! What do—”   “It is yours to plead in favor of tradition, is it?” Velandra asked, her tone more of a statement. “Strange is it, then, that it seems yours has dealings with Linxinfa herself.”   A palpable shock went through the family heads, many of them coming to gasp audibly and regard each other in hurried, hushed whispers. Lanying, arguably the youngest of the Huong present, seemed taken aback more by the reactions of others than the name itself. It would be Meihui who spoke up then, her veteran voice suddenly far lighter in its power. “And what word have you of her, sovereign Velandra?”   “The schemes of ryujin are not new to me. I know now she has visited here many times; what for, I wonder. Capricious she may be, Linxinfa only ever serves her own ends, grand or small.” Velandra regarded the different Huong elders with a scornful disdain. “I care not for intrigue, so tell me forthright then: do you put your lot in with hers, and the lands of Aochen?”   Silence fell in the wake of her question, underlined by the thrumming tension of their hearts. Her accusation stood bold indeed, with consequences they might scarcely appreciate. Velandra knew she was taking something of a gamble; but Venyra’s story didn’t reveal the whole scheme. Linxinfa’s salacious appetite aside, her insidiously cunning schemes assured anything she did, had a much grander design to them. Chabei’s apparent signaling out as a concubine candidate would’ve been an easy way into the reclusive Huong’s upper echelons.   Through there, and the prestige of her ryujin blood, Linxinfa may have easily overtaken the Huong in their entirety.   And yet there may have been other attempts, Velandra mused to herself, regarding the all-too obvious faces before her. One spear does not suffice for a country. Still, to think Venyra would be related to this is … The idea hung in her mind, a complex mess that had bothered her since the evening before. If the Honchi were wiped out by the Huong, then Linxinfa orchestrated something with Haranyra’s family. And if that proved true, then the possibility of foreign dragons being involved complicated everything.   Which made any confrontation with Aochen all the more troublesome.   I hate politics.   “It is not that we have, fair sovereign,” Meihui said at last, a surprising weariness to her otherwise unfaltering position. “Indeed, it is a mark of deep shame for our Huong family to remember that time.”   Lanying apparently did not know, judging by the surprised look she gave her grandmother. Curious by this sudden choice of words, Velandra and Venyra inclined their heads, while the former asked, “Ho? You speak against Aochen?”   “Against? No, but neither is our lot with them. That sordid affair rightfully cast the Heavens’ scorn upon us all.”   “Then enlighten me to this supposed disagreement with Linxinfa, and I shall determine your truthfulness.”   Meihui grimaced at the thought, and some of the family heads seemed ready to speak their minds. She raised her hand, casting a sharp look at them all, and so assured her speaking. “An old tale for these days, one we hoped our grandchildren might be spared.” Not a look toward Lanying or Velandra, Meihui regarded the center of the table with an unwavering gaze. “But for our Huong family’s exoneration, I shall speak of it again.”   “Many years ago, Linxinfa visited our Huong family, and became captivated by one of our greatest warriors: Honchi Chabei. How wonderful it was when she was asked to join Linxinfa! We Huong and the Honchi were overcome with joy. Taken by business, Linxinfa left, promising to return the next year.”   Not all that different, so far …   “In her absence, what fortune had we to be visited by another dragon! None saw Haranyra for the trickster he was. He captivated us all, but none more than Chabei caught his eye. So it was, he stole her in the dead of night, vanishing far beyond our lands before dawn.” Meihui let out a despondent sigh and shook her head. “When we realized what had happened, we went to help the Honchi find their missing daughter, but they rebuffed us!”   Velandra spied over at Venyra, who distinctly wasn’t smiling anymore. The fine hairs of her neck rose at the sight of such deadly focus.   “A great mystery! We argued until Linxinfa returned, seeking Chabei. What treachery it became that the Honchi swore Chabei off to Haranyra! They, a mere branch family, offending Linxinfa with such an audacious slap to her face. They refused her and us, brandishing sword and spear. On that day, we had no choice but to tear up their roots, for the safety of the Huong family and Linxinfa’s honor.”   “And what of this Chabei and Haranyra?”   “We never found them. Linxinfa vowed to avenge her honor from the wrong Haranyra inflicted, and left. Since then, no word of their fates has reached us.”   It made sense that such an isolated family couldn’t chase them from Nerzin to Votyoger at all. Like Venyra, Velandra couldn’t pin down where the ‘humans’ who killed her mother came from at all. Why would Linxinfa bother with a proxy here? Unless the Huong’s hunters did find them, but died on the way back … Realizing all too quickly the implications of the latter, Velandra said, “Your hunters returned then? Or simply vanished?”   “Hm? They all returned.”   A glance from the corner of her eye told her Venyra seemed content to remain sitting.   So it would be, the Huong family was spared her wrath.   Strange.   Shaking her head, Velandra held up a hand. “I see now, then. I doubt greatly Linxinfa would nurture a garden where she has been spoiled before. Then, the Huong family’s fate has become all too clear to me.”   “What do you mean?” Lanying cut in before any of the others, almost too quickly in doing so.   “Having spurned, willfully or not, Linxinfa of Aochen, it boggles the mind to believe Aochen would have any dealings. Then, all that remains is my lands of Tomu. Tell me, Huong family, as Tomu and Aochen expand on the rising tides, how will you be greeted?”   That, ultimately, would be the heart of the matter. The Huong could not remain independent; not unless they wish to pit their sword against Tomu or Aochen. Velandra wasn’t at all surprised to see most of the family heads resistant to her overtures. That they were so blatant caught her off guard. Her gaze fell upon Meihui and Lanying, were in a secretive, hushed conversation. For better or worse, Lanying appeared to have a firm handle on it.   Meihui held up her hand, commanding attention. “In light of the decision to be made, especially for those to inherit it, I yield to my granddaughter, successor to the Huong family.”   “My respects to the matriarch,” Lanying followed up immediately. Although she remained seated, an animated, purposeful energy defined her every word and posture. “The Sovereign of Tomu asks how we wish to be greeted. I have given the matter great thought, as many of you no doubt know from my consultations.”   Some family heads nodded agreeingly.   “The simple truth is, I have heard of, and seen for myself, both Tomu and Aochen rising on the tide. Lands once distant have come within barely a month’s travels. Undoubtedly, they will come even closer, unless there are any who wish to say otherwise?”   While lacking the presence of age, her prideful demeanor makes up for it, Velandra appraised approvingly.   “The Xaishan Accord is, for all its strangeness, a fair deal. I know many will not see our roots shown, but as the sovereign so surmised, no great family is so easily found out.” Lanying, having gazed up and down the table, regarded Velandra last. “I am of the mind that acceptance is in the best interests of our Huong family. However, there are yet a few terms I wish spoken of, such the airs are cleared.”   My, I do hope there is not a plotting streak in you. It would be a waste of so good a spirit. Chuckling, Velandra nodded. “Very well, I shall hear them.”     “This is the fastest someone has bowed yet,” Venyra commented dryly.   “Their banal concerns are something I have heard a dozen times. As they say, a dragon moves heaven and veltron on a whim; a mouse is blown by the winds.”   “Huh?”   “Erm … it is easier for those with power to do something, than those without.”   “Oh. Just say that next time.”   “It is so much more inelegant that way,” Velandra griped, earning a disbelieving snort from Venyra. Seated as the two were in another pavilion, its reclusiveness on a cliff afforded them proper privacy. Another gust of wind came by, tousling their hair and clothes before disappearing again. A storm loomed on the horizon, if one judged by the roiling clouds. By all accounts, she’d have a decent excuse to cut her visit to the Huong short.   “Suit yourself,” Venyra remarked, making a show of being extra comfortable on the big, fluffy cushions they sat on. A rather interesting feat considering the armor she wore.   “Quite. If I were to make a fuss, I am more surprised about you.”   “Eh?”   “Were you not prepared to burn the entirety of the Huong family?”   “Down to the roots,” Venyra affirmed, her banal tone far too forgiving on the ears.   “What changed?”   “My father. And their incompetence.”   Velandra squinted, and for a hot minute, tried to discern what she meant. “What?”   “They weren’t the ones to kill my mother, is all. This ‘Linxinfa’ sounds more the one.”   “But they killed her family?”   “Never cared about them.”   Venyra’s straightforward mind set all the details into place right then. Velandra’s brow crept upward before she decided the issue should be quite resolved, then. Her gaze crept back to the far horizons, where the darkened lands yet awaited. Cliff-after-cliff and sheer surface sloped down, bleeding into the vast, wild forests that dominated around the mountain. The fluffy, bush-like tree tops brushed into one another, an ever-endless canopy punctuated by holes where lumberers did their work. The prelude to the storm brought low roiling mists, seeping through as a thousand-fingered goddess across every tree and branch.   “I am afraid that may be far more challenging,” Velandra said, voicing her own lingering thought.   “… Hm? How?”   “Confronting Linxfina is the same as slapping Aochen broad across the face.” At Venyra’s look, she added on, “War, in other words.”   “I get it,” Venyra grumbled and rolled over onto her side, facing Velandra and propping up her head. “’course it makes little difference to fire, once the forests start burning. Wouldn’t want yours to go, though.”   “I do so appreciate this newfound restraint of yours,” Velandra commented dryly, earning a sour look in return. “Would I could be in a thousand places at once, it would be a simple matter. Still, there is some good fortune in this.”   “Which is?”   “The Huong will be brought to the side of Tomu and your mother’s killer is all but named now.”   “Ah, yeah.”   “You do not sound as enthused as I expected.”   At that, Venyra sat up into that typical cross-legged, unbecoming slouch of hers. “I doubt it’ll be simple.”   “… Ho, why so?”   Rubbing her head, Venyra’s rough features contorted into an irritable scowl. “Why did my father come here? All the way from Votyoger; he didn’t have your flying castle to make it easy either.”   “I fear the answer passed from this world with him.”   “Maybe. Something is off about all of this.”   If it bothered Venyra so, Velandra could only agree with a nod. “I will have some eyes and ears here now. Something may turn up later.”   Venyra grumbled with a low, throaty hum.   In time, their seclusion was broken by the arrival of Xiaomei, walking up the stony steps to them. Behind her followed Lanying, and several more attendants in waiting. Velandra drew herself up from the cushions with magic, coming to stand in the air. Venyra grumbled, then heaved and hoed her way up with a heavy, resounding thunk of weighted metal. Xiaomei slid down to her knees and bowed properly. “I present the lady Huong Lanying.”   Velandra waved her hand, and Xiaomei hurriedly stood, then moved off to the side. Lanying took the cue then to step in, the three of them coming to regard one another.   “I pray that our hospitality was not too lacking in your visit,” Lanying said with a demure smile.   “Adequate, if absent of certain amenities. It is no fault of your own. I think you will agree when you see them for yourself,” Velandra said, tone of voice clear cutting.   “Is that so? I will be interested to see what wonders the lands of Tomu have to offer.”   Neither rude nor proper; the barb being what it was, at least Lanying didn’t rise to the challenge. “They are quite impressive; of that you will have no doubt. I suspect you have another reason for coming now, rather than on our departure.”   “Quite.” Lanying smiled thinly, and then held a hand out in gesture toward a nearby guard rail. “If we might?”   A trickle of intrigue tickled Velandra’s mind as she and Venyra followed Lanying over, away from the servants. Although she hadn’t expected Venyra to come as well, if those suspicious glances told anything.   “Pardon my rudeness, but we have not been introduced,” Lanying said, smiling in Venyra’s unamused direction.   “I don’t care,” Venyra remarked dryly, rolling her head and shoulders in a lazy stretch. Upon seeing Velandra’s narrowed eyes, she huffed and threw her hands up. “Fine. I’m Venyra.”   “—Nyra; as in, related to Haranyra?”   Something about Lanying’s voice stood out to Velandra; she wasn’t surprised.   “He’s my father.”   “… And your mother, was she Honchi Chabei?”   “What gave it away?”   “I had my suspicions,” Lanying said in a clean-step evasion. “I will not ask why you come with the Sovereign of Tomu; but why are you here?”   “To see my mother’s home.”   “I fear we have not done well to show it.”   “I saw enough.”   Not quite ashamed, though suffering all the same, Lanying nodded with an unnecessary bow. “I had meant to offer this to the sovereign as a gift; but perhaps it was meant for the two of you, instead.”   Velandra and Venyra spied at each other when Lanying gestured, and a single attendant of hers came forward. Holding up a plain looking brown, wooden box, a number of white talismans had been affixed to it. Lanying cut the sealing one herself and took off the lid. She handed it to the servant, while taking the box herself and offering it to the two of them. They both peered in, rather curious. Amidst a comfortable, red-velvety cloth laid a scroll. A scaly shell covered the paper itself, while the handles were that of fiery crysium, flickering with magical light. The whole scroll had been locked up by a black cord, twisting and wrapping around it, secured by a butterfly knot.   What in the world? Velandra wondered, rather surprised by the sophistication of it. The make and material alone undoubtedly belonged to the realm of dragons, but she didn’t recognize any of the markings. An uncomfortable aura drew her attention beside her, and she found Venyra’s eyes dangerously narrowed. “Do you recognize it?” she asked, half-expecting a certain answer.   “Kind of. It’s from my father’s family.”   “It belonged to Haranyra,” Lanying affirmed with a nod. “It was left with the last head of the Honchi family. We’ve never been able to discern its contents due to the seal placed upon it.”   “Unless you have dragon blood, it won’t open. If you did, it’d explode.”   Lanying grimaced. “It is good the elders stopped trying.”   Venyra reached in and took out the scroll, giving it a once over. “Yup, one of those alright.”   Velandra, however, regarded Lanying more suspiciously. “Why give this to us? Or me, as you so said.”   Handing the now-empty box off to her servant, who quickly left, Lanying said, “The matter of Linxinfa and our Huong’s shame. The wrongs of our forebearers carry down, and now it falls to me. I’ve no wish to let the past bring ruin to our future.” Folding her hands to her front, she bowed more formally. “Please accept this as a gesture of sincerity from me, and the Huong family’s commitment to the Xaishan Accord.”   “Hmm, truly then …” Velandra mused aloud, a dark smile spreading across her lips. “It is unfortunate a woman as spirited as you should remain here.”   “I thank you. I am proud to carry my family upon my shoulders.”   “There is some nobility in that, for however much I disagree. Well, Venyra?”   “It’s real enough, unless you want me to open it here.”   “No, give it to Xiaomei to be packed for the trip.”   “Oh, right.” Thus, Venyra trodded off, speaking with Xiaomei at the entrance of the pavilion.   “The weather being what it is, I feel we must leave sooner rather than later,” Velandra said to Lanying, who nodded with understanding.   “It is a shame we cannot spare time for lunch, but I agree. I shall see you out. Ah, rather, there is one last matter.”   “… Ho?”   “It shall prove beneficial to us both, if you do not presume my asking of it,” Lanying said, smiling with the air of a conspirator.     They all assembled in the courtyard, observing Velandra and her retinue board her flying jiao. Lanying, standing in front of the Huong family and the six family heads, watched pensively as the muttering heckles behind her continued. Agreement or not, she wasn’t certain why she expected them to be any quieter about their misgivings. The moving stairs snapped to life as the last visitor boarded, folding and flying back into their place beneath the jiao. Such a sight served well to quiet the noise down; Lanying smiled secretively.   “Yes, yes, an interesting sight,” Meirong derided with all the joy of a soggy dumpling. “Must we stand here and watch like fools?”   A thunderous rumble shook the air then, the darker storm clouds overhead looming across the land. Rain had yet to fall, but the noise promised much of it indeed. The flying jiao took off from their courtyard, and Lanying watched it recede into the dark sky. Soon, that oppressive, soul-stifling aura of Tomu’s Sovereign gradually vanished. She took in a suspicious breath, finding an ease she hadn’t felt in days finally enter her bones. That a great storm would undoubtedly hit them soon didn’t dampen her spirit at all. Contending with fierce weather seemed a far more relaxing prospect than that woman’s immense shadow.   As the jiao moved further away, the air moved. As if being stolen from their very lungs, it twisted the clouds above into a descending funnel. Lanying and everyone else watched, their eyes widening as the funnel split open at the end. Emerging from the clouds like a dragon out of the mists, a huge palace atop sculpted rock revealed itself. The gracious sun spilled out from behind, piercing the murky darkness that hung over the lands. Bending rays of sunshine set the roofs alight with a sparkling beauty, set against the haunting stature of its vaunting construction.   Lanying, even knowing her own scheme, stood dumbstruck at the sight. For a brief, fleeting moment, it seemed as if a goddess had come down after all. Then and there, more than ever before, she understood how Velandra laid claim to her ostentatious position. A sovereign of the heavens, is it … Lanying wondered. No subterfuge, no trickery, no deception; nothing underhanded was needed in the face of such presence.   Had that been the plan, from the very beginning? To draw all their eyes to her, and not to the daughter of Haranyra and Chabei? Lanying pursed her lips, the thought a rather sticky one to work through. The names her grandparents spoke of in hushed voices, brought to life before her eyes in a way. What had happened that even decades later, a gloom remained over her Huong family? Shaking her head, Lanying clapped her hands, and offered a prayer to the stormy skies above.   Above everything else, she hoped her Huong family may yet survive what was to come.   Turning around, she regarded the family heads and various elders, all of them slack-jawed and disbelieving.   Lanying smiled earnestly then, and just this once, let her smugness show.