The sun had dwindled to a crimson ember. We waited upon our clouds, hidden from sight, our auras masked. It was no easy matter to gain passage to the Fragrant Mulberry Grove—we had been too slow before, the pathway darkening before us, an impenetrable barrier forming that we could not breach. Since our grace period from Wugang had lapsed, we were on constant guard for fear of discovery. A hard task, when my mind kept drifting to the sight of Prince Yanming in his brother’s arms. And when I closed my eyes to block out these searing images, his frail gasp echoed in my ears.

“Xingyin. Be ready,” Liwei warned.

As a rush of power stirred the air, a gleaming chariot of white jade streaked past. We shot after it, our clouds speckling the skies as we chased the simmering trail of heat, keeping out of sight yet careful not to fall behind. The phoenix soared with breathtaking speed, each feather a curl of writhing flame, sparks scattering in its wake like a cloak of stars. A stately immortal rode upon it, her black hair coiled into a gold and topaz headdress, her vermilion robes billowing in the wind. A shining harness was fastened around the phoenix’s neck, its strap wound around her hand. As she flung her other arm forward, blazing ropes of flame uncoiled, lashing the phoenix. It let out a piercing shriek as it raced onward, dragging the chariot after it.

This burst of speed had caught us unaware before, but we were ready this time, our clouds surging ahead to keep pace. Already, the curtain of dusk was descending, the glare from the chariot waning. For the first time, I caught a clear glimpse of the creature sheltered within—a being of incandescent light.

The sunbird, the last of its kind. Sorrow gripped me as I imagined the sunbird’s existence, as solitary as my childhood had been—but with the added pain, the yawning ache of knowing all it had lost. Did it relive the horror of seeing its siblings struck down, their wings stilling as they fell from the sky, their light fading to dark? I had felt the agony of losing a loved one, but dared not fathom the loss of nine at once. My father had saved the world, yet he had also taken these beloved children from their family. An act of greatness did not lessen the sorrow inflicted, for love could not be tallied and weighed.

Every hero was a villain to the other side … and to them, my father must be the greatest monster of all.