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His blunt question struck me. I had not imagined that my position would end, but Liwei would soon assume his court duties. His lessons would decrease and then, what would I do? Become his attendant, serving his meals and tea? The idea seared me like a hot coal.

General Jianyun continued, oblivious to my unease, “Your archery is unmatched. According to Teacher Daoming, your magic is strong. I think you would do very well in the army and your future could be brighter than the sun.”

My mind whirled with the possibilities. My father was a soldier; it had been his path to glory, to slaying the sunbirds and saving the world. A great honor, a terrible burden. His reward had been the elixir which turned my mother and me immortal, though it parted us from him, too.

Snapping out of my stupor, I asked, “General Jianyun, how does one advance in the army?”

“Fighting for our kingdom. Performing each task to the best of one’s abilities. Protecting your fellow soldiers. Hard work, obedience, loyalty throughout the years. What greater honor is there than to serve our kingdom and Their Celestial Majesties?” Pride rang in his voice.

A curt refusal sprang to my tongue which I quashed out of respect to the general, though I could not stop my lip from curling.

He did not seem to notice, adding as an afterthought, “Some also dream of winning the Crimson Lion Talisman, though such a thing is rare.”

“Crimson Lion Talisman?” I had never heard of it before.

“It is the highest honor of the Celestial Army, awarded by the emperor himself. Its bearer is granted a royal favor.”

A wild hope fluttered in my chest. “How is this talisman won?” I cursed the tremor in my voice, hoping he did not hear my eagerness.

“Through exceptional acts of valor, courage, or sacrifice, in service to the Celestial Kingdom.” He frowned. “However, this is not something to pin your hopes upon. In my lifetime, the talisman has been awarded less than a handful of times.”

General Jianyun must be hundreds of years old. A thousand? How could I surpass the mighty warriors here, when I had barely grasped my powers a couple of years ago? No, I could not allow myself to think so, I could not admit defeat before I tried. Among all the mortals across the centuries, it was my father who had caught the emperor’s attention to win the Elixir of Immortality. I would strive for no less.

Yet something reined in my surging excitement. If I joined the Celestial Army, I would have to leave the Courtyard of Eternal Tranquility. I was safe there. As happy as I could be, away from my mother. Ah, I was becoming muddled inside. I could never forget why I was here—that I had been torn from my home, and that I had come to the Jade Palace to find my way back. General Jianyun’s talk of honor and service did not move me. This was not my home; I had no loyalty to this place. I even bore a grudge against Their Celestial Majesties, which I was willing to swallow for my own ends. And yet, this offer gave me a glimpse into a future where I could advance through my own merit, a chance to grasp at my mother’s freedom. Better by far than my wild fantasies of soaring to the moon and shattering the enchantment which bound her there. What life would await us after that? An eternity of being hunted and living in fear.

General Jianyun cleared his throat, perhaps wondering at my prolonged silence.

I cupped my hands as I bowed to him. “Thank you for your confidence in me, General Jianyun. I promise to consider it.” His offer tempted me more than I cared to admit. I was already inclined to accept, though I could not do so before speaking to Liwei.

Over our meal that night, Liwei asked, “What did you and General Jianyun talk about? It seemed to be a serious conversation.”

Surprised that he had noticed, I lifted my chopsticks to stuff a lump of rice into my mouth. For some reason, I was reluctant to tell him about the general’s offer. A few excuses drifted through my mind, but I had only lied to him once before and that had been out of necessity.

“General Jianyun suggested that I join the army, after my role here comes to an end.”

“End?” He sounded confused. “Who told you it was ending?”

I placed my chopsticks down on the table and fixed him with a somber stare. “Liwei, how long will things go on this way? Once you take on your responsibilities, you will have less time for lessons. You won’t need a companion.”

For once, he appeared at a loss. “But . . . you’re my friend.”

How those words tore at my conscience, yet I could not think of myself alone. “I am your friend. Here, or wherever I go.”

“Do you want to leave me? To join the army?” There was a note of incredulity in his voice and, buried beneath, hurt.

“There are things I want which you know nothing of. I do have my own dreams.” My voice was hoarse with emotion. The years I had spent here, training and studying, were happy ones. And yet, these were just the rungs of the ladder that scaled my ambition.

Perhaps Liwei sensed me drawing away, the hardening of my resolve. He leaned toward me, as he asked, “What are your dreams? Let me help, however I can.”

The words hovered at the tip of my tongue. To confide in him. To tell him the truth. He was a Celestial Prince, powerful and favored. But I stifled the urge. I was unsure of how things might change between us if he knew who I was. That I had lied to him. That I was the daughter of the disgraced goddess who had defied his father’s wishes, and of the mortal who had slain his mother’s beloved sunbirds.

“No, you can’t help me,” I said softly. “But I thank you for wanting to.”

His hand covered mine, an unexpected tingle shooting through my arm. “My offer stands. Anytime, whatever you need. Think about it and don’t make any hasty decisions.”

I had believed my mind made up. Yet pinned by the intensity in his gaze, I could only nod in reply. Tomorrow, I told myself, cowardly. I will decide tomorrow.

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