Help me,I whispered.Please. Someone.
There was nothing at first. Then the jade pendant warmed in my hands. A glow appeared within it, shifting like molten gold into characters.
I am herewas all it showed, but those three words held together my world.
I spoke to the pendant that night. Then the next.Who are you?I asked it.
There was a pause.I cannot say.
I frowned then, wondering if this was simply a trick enchantment my father had left me.
Yet the words kept coming.But I am as real as you,it continued.Just far away.
I knew nothing else about its identity, and so I tried not to rely on it too much for fear that it would abandon me eventually, as my parents had. Yet slowly, I began asking it questions. They started small, innocent. How to sow seeds, how to smoke meats and preserve vegetables for the winter. Then the pendant told me of light lotuses as a way to replenish a mortal’s life energy and keep my mother alive. It taught methe craftsmanship behind each talisman I used and where I was going wrong, how to channel my spirit energy for the most effective kick.
I remember sitting and staring at the blank surface of the pendant, frustrated that all I had was a few characters at a time. I spent hours imagining who might sit at the other end.
Do you ever feel lonely?I asked it one day.
Another pause, and I could feel my guardian in the jade hesitating; I imagined them on the other end, inkbrush raised, other hand holding their sleeve, as they crafted their response.
It had been a simple one.
Yes.
Several months ago, on my nineteenth birthday, my guardian in the jade told me about the Temple of Dawn…and the trials where, if I won a spot, I would be granted a pill of immortality that would replenish Ma’s soul.
That quiet, reassuring hand writing those words to me had saved my life countless times throughout the years. I often wonder if it is possible to love someone you’ve never met, someone you aren’t even sure exists. The pendant now rests upon my breast, the guardian a companion to my heart.
Pulling myself from memories, I narrow my eyes, tracking the angle of the sunlight seeping through our shutters. I’d planned to leave in the morning with the full sun behind my back. Night is always when I am at a disadvantage: with weakened visibility, and with the Kingdom of Night continuing to seep into our realm, the moon and stars, too, are fading in the ever-lengthening dark.
But I would take on another mó just to spend five more minutes here, in the sunlight, with my little sister. Just five minutes.
So I do, stroking Méi’zi’s soft hair and breathing in her familiar scent as I count down each heartbeat.
When my five minutes end, I stir slightly. “Méi’zi.” My voice is a whisper, and I gently pat her shoulders.
She mumbles in her sleep, and I catch the unmistakable words: “Jie’jie.”
I swallow and swipe a thumb across my face, making sure no wetness remains. “Time for chores,” I say softly.
She’s awake in an instant. The sleep vanishes from her warm brown eyes. She knows what I am really saying: that this is the last time in a long time we will be doing chores together.
Don’t cry,I silently implore her.I need you to be strong for me. For us.
Méi’zi blinks rapidly, and the vulnerability in her gaze dries up.
“All right,” she says firmly. “Chores.”
—
Méi’zi fusses over my ruined silk dress and insists on cleaning it for me before I set out. I know she wants to do this, so I don’t object. Instead, I go to our room to finish packing.
There isn’t much I’ll take with me. A bedroll, a set of spare clothes, a gourd for water, and some plain steamed buns. The items I treasure most, I always keep on me: the battle-ready dress Méi’zi designed, my eight crescent blades, and my jade pendant.
While I wait for Méi’zi to finish, I check the drawers and cabinets one more time. They are filled with my father’s tomes on practitioning: hundreds of scrolls I’ve memorized,shelf upon shelf of practitioning art and magic I have taught myself over the years, starting from the basics at the very bottom.
A ghost of a smile flits across my face as I pull out the very first tome. This was the tome: the only one my father taught me before he died. I remember those days as one would a hazy, golden afternoon out of a dream. They were days filled with uncertainty, but my family was alive and whole. We thought there would be an end to all this, that the mortal armies would rise again under our emperor, that the immortals in the Kingdom of Sky would ally with us to reestablish the Heavenly Order across the realms.
