Though leaden with terror, a lightness crept into my heart. Sharp cries rang out then, the phoenixes sweeping into the fray in a flurry of shining feathers and talons. As they circled in graceful flight, their tails rippled behind them like rainbows arched across the night. The Celestial Empress flew among them upon her mount, a spear in her hand. A fierce radiance suffused her, as though she were a bird whose cage had sprung open, who could finally spread her wings and soar. Flanking the Phoenix Army were Prince Yanxi’s forces, bearing down upon the armies of the Northern Sea.

The sun had not yet risen, and already the clouds were drenched with blood. The glittering sands of the Golden Desert—so dazzling from the palace rooftop—now glistened with a dark wetness. How many lives would be lost? Death would feast well tonight, gorging itself over the immortal table it had once been cast from.

Despair shrouded me, dank and cold. I wanted to shut my eyes to the unfolding nightmare, but forced myself to watch, biting down on the inside of my cheek till it was raw. This was the horror that awaited us if Wugang prevailed—an eternity of chaos, destruction, and death. And I dared not dwell on what might happen to the spirits of those slain by his creatures. This was not just a battle for the realm, it was one for its soul. I would not falter, I could not fail.

The cloud swerved sharply away, climbing higher. I tore my mind from the devastation below, for my own battle lay before me. Long moments ticked away, sheathed in silence. All the while, the feather strained against its binds, pounding against my skull. My energy flowed in a constant trickle to hold the shields fast, my tension coiling tighter until I thought I might snap.

At last, the silver roof of my home gleamed ahead. Tiles were cracked and charred, several missing, part of the lower tier fallen away. A far different homecoming from before, when joy had brimmed over with anticipation—for all I felt now was a withering dread, coupled with the relentless stab of fear.

It was cooler than I remembered, the tranquil stillness edged with desolation. Never had the night felt so oppressively thick, with the lanterns unlit, the once-luminous earth as dull as ash. A trace of cinnamon wound through the air, a musty tang clinging to it, a remnant of stale smoke. My gaze darted over the blackened walls, the cracked stone path, the stump by the entrance where a mother-of-pearl pillar had once towered. It had been a nightmare of my youth, to return home and find it in ruins—achingly silent, without the voices of my mother and Ping’er.