I glanced out the window, concealing my face. Dusk had fallen, a veil of violet splendor—elusive and fragrant, with mystery and promise. Yet a hollow numbness sheathed me as I clasped my hands together to hide their shaking. One breath, and then another—until finally my heart calmed. Only then did I dare to look at them, pressing each of their beloved faces into my mind. Precious remembrances to sustain me through the hell ahead.

“You should go, before Wugang’s soldiers arrive.” I did not know how much longer I could sustain this mask of calm.

My mother embraced me, her arms tight around my neck and shoulders. I swallowed hard, inhaling the faint sweetness of her scent, trying to ignore the tears which fell from her eyes onto my robe. She released me, hurrying from the room. Liwei and Wenzhi bowed to me then, their faces solemn as they straightened. I bent my head to them in turn, my throat crammed with unsaid words, my heart heavy with suppressed emotion as they left. In a moment, my father would be gone too.

“Father, wait.” An involuntary cry I could not prevent. I had faced dire situations before, been dragged to the brink of death—yet there was a difference to this one. The burden was almost crushing, for the stakes were greater by far: not just my life and those of my loved ones, but of every mortal and immortal in the realms above and below. I could not fail; I dared not. And yet … could I prevail?

My father came toward me. “Daughter, what is it?”

“How did you feel when you faced the sunbirds?” A halting question.

“Afraid,” he said bluntly.

His answer comforted me, soothing my fraught nerves. “Why did you do it?”

Grief shadowed his face. He looked older in that moment, an echo of the mortal I had first met, stooped with the cares of time. “I did not want to. I knew I would pay a heavy price, for they were beloved by the gods. Yet if I did not, all whom I loved would perish.”

“I don’t want to do this.” My words fell out in a low cry. “I am not courageous; I am afraid. I am no hero.” I did not shy from sharing these thoughts with him. More than anyone, he knew the price that must be paid, the hard choices that had to be made.

“You are,” he said with feeling. “For the fools do not fear the odds, the reckless do not care—and only the truly brave proceed regardless.” He placed a hand on my shoulder, steady and warm. “It was either the sunbirds or the world. And along with the world, my wife, you—my unborn child—my friends, and every other living creature. There is nothing more worth fighting for.”