Rebecca Camillo-Amisano

Prologue

Herein lies the final remaining scroll preserved from the Old World:

Long ago, twelve immortal Zodiac beings roamed the planet.

The Twelve were created out of an unlikely collision of equal parts yin and yang energy, resulting in the existence of magic and time.

Of the Twelve, eight chose to rule over humanity. The land was split into nations, and an agreement was reached to divide their power and time equally. Each of the eight Zodiac members would alternate giving one year of time to humanity, and would be allowed to share their powers with one person each century.

But the Phoenix defied them. Believing magic should be freely given, not hoarded, the Phoenix was sealed away from the rest of the realm.

Of the remaining four, their powers were either feared or forgotten as no more than whispers in forgotten scrolls.

These are their tales:

The war between the Dragon of Flame and the White Tiger of Ice.

The Tortoise that wielded the seas.

The Crane that ruled the skies.

The Panda who guarded the forests.

The Phoenix that burned the world to start anew from the ashes.

The One who could give life to stone.

And the Other, who killed all they touched.

Chapter 一

Bathed in amber light spilling in veils from stained glass windows between erected pillars of red mahogany, the Hall of Supreme Harmony stood in silence, heavy as the incense smoke that curled up across the floor like creatures sound asleep. Reserved for the Empire’s grand ceremonies and highest ranking officials, its sloped roof was tiled in obsidian black and edged in crimson, each corner adorned with bronze dragons coiling mid-flight. Sunlight striking against the roof would reflect off the black tiles, washing the roof in a rich golden hue. As the Grand Chancellor of Balance, Wu Shimen was reminded of his stature each time he witnessed this sight, as he was one of the select few received by Emperor Li Ziwei in the heart of the Imperial Palace.

Climbing up the deep red lacquered steps inside the Hall, he stopped momentarily in front of two guards who stood in front of the large chestnut doors.

“The Emperor is ready for you, Chancellor,” A palace escort stated, the guards opening the doors on his authority.

The Chancellor walked through to the far end of the chamber, where Emperor Li sat on the Imperial Throne. Elevated on a dais of seven steps, the throne was framed between murals of vibrant fire, creating a backdrop shaped like a flaming lotus.

The Emperor towered over him from his throne, his long hair bound in an intricate knot secured with a gold hairpin, its wings arching behind his head. His black robes flowed around him, accentuated by hues of crimson and gold, the embroidery of dancing dragons on his sleeves creating layered rivers of fire.

“Thank you for granting an audience with me at such short notice, Imperial Son of Heavenly Flame. My family and I fervently pray for your continued good health and prosperity.” The Chancellor bowed deeply, the long sleeves of his ceremonial robe formally placed together as the fabric nearly swept the floor.

“You may rise, Chancellor Wu.” The Emperor was pale, his carved cheekbones adding no warmth to his face as he spoke with calculated detachment. “What matter brings you here?”

“Your Imperial Majesty, a special envoy from Dongyue will be arriving within the season to open diplomatic talks in hopes of decreasing the tensions between our two nations,” Chancellor Wu announced.

“I’m aware of this already, Chancellor,” Emperor Li stated shortly.

“I have heard whispers that it is being led by one of the Princes of Dongyue,” the Chancellor said in a lowered voice.

The Emperor raised his eyebrows. “How certain are you of his identity?”

“It is but an unconfirmed rumour passed along to me by the Minister of Echoes and Edicts,” he replied. “But for an enemy nation to send an envoy set to arrive right before the new year… that is no coincidence, Your Imperial Majesty. Especially when it is to be the first Year of the Dragon this century. Dongyue likely plans to interfere with the Trial of Ascension.”

“Where is the envoy currently?” the Emperor asked.

Chancellor Wu hesitated, offering a thoughtful frown. “Dongyue has set up encampments along Shulin’s outer reaches. The envoy is likely to pass through them before arriving in Xishan. However, there are many routes they could be taking…”

“In other words, you haven’t the faintest idea.” The Emperor’s voice was dry and hollow as he gave the Chancellor a deadpan look. “The envoy could be anywhere from Dongyue to the very outskirts of our borders by now.”

Chancellor Wu winced at the rebuke before quickly recovering with a gracious nod. “That is correct, Your Imperial Majesty. Our ability to send spies into Shulin is limited—as you know, if any are discovered, it will be viewed as a sign of aggression within neutral territory.

If I may speak freely—”

Emperor Li gestured for him to continue.

“No foreign court would elect to send a guest during the most sacred time in our calendar without purpose. If I were them, I would use the chaos of the new year to plant seeds of rebellion under the guise of celebration. We must not underestimate Dongyue’s appetite for influence—nor their desire to stomp out Xishan’s flame once and for all.” He met the Emperor’s gaze, pressing hand to heart. “Use me, Your Imperial Majesty, to ensure Xishan shines bright for many years to come.”

The Emperor considered for a moment. “Send our best spies to locate the envoy group and confirm the identity of its leader,” Emperor Li instructed. “Use whatever means necessary to monitor them carefully once they arrive—and report back as soon as you have evidence of interference.”

“And if I get confirmation?” he asked, his tone timid.

The Emperor’s voice turned cold. “Send the prince’s head back to his father.”

“Understood, Your Majesty.” The Chancellor bowed low towards the ground, the corner of his mouth curling into a subtle smile. “May the light of dragon-fire shine forever upon your rule.”

***

“Chancellor Wu, I have two scrolls that require your attention.” The deep voice of Nao Yin called from outside the door of the Chancellor’s private home study.

“You may enter.”

The door slid open as the Chamberlain for the Wu household walked in and bowed his head. “Chancellor Wu, the Minister of Culture & Ceremonies requests final approval on the schedule for the Trial of Ascension. The Emperor has also ordered every noble house to confirm their chosen candidate within the fortnight.”

Wu took the scrolls from the man in his employ with a darkened expression. “You are excused, Chamberlain.”

Chamberlain Nao bowed once more and quietly withdrew, sliding the door shut as he exited.

The Trial of Ascension.

Once every hundred years, on the century’s first Year of the Dragon, the Empire of Xishan held a sacred tournament. It was a tradition rooted in ancient mythology, where Long Shen gifted the Empire a fragment of his divine flame, choosing a single worthy heir to carry his magic into the next era.

The Inheritance of Heavenly Flame, the ritual was called. A blessing wrapped in awe and fear, for greater than the power it gave was the desire for others to control it. The one who inherited the power of flame would no doubt be a target for other nations, but more dangerous would be the leash around their neck, easily tightened into a noose should they so much as cough without the Emperor's permission. In the moons leading up to the ceremony, beacons would be lit in every province in the nation. House banners bearing the imperial crest would flutter across Xishan’s mountaintops. Then, when the New Year finally arrived, celebrations would last eight days and nights in the capital alone.

Beacons would be lit in every province in the nation. House banners bearing the imperial crest would flutter across Xishan’s mountaintops. Celebrations would last eight days and nights.

And this year, his own house was expected to offer a contender.

The Chancellor remained silent until the Minister bowed and departed. Only then did his shoulders lower with a tired breath, as he picked up his brush and dipped it into the dark ink pot to write three words across the parchment.

Wu Sunming.

His daughter.

The sole heir of the Wu family.

Historical records of past competitions reflected the dark nature of the trial, an arena polluted with bloodied corpses and crippled survivors.

Without question, every other noble family would send a son to fight.

He clenched his teeth. Every other noble family had a son to send. Once again, he was reminded of his family's greatest failure.

He still remembered the crushing disappointment he felt when he heard the two words he dreaded most after Sunming’s birth: 'A girl.'

Despite the many concubines he’d taken over the years to secure a male heir, he was left with only Sunming, who received every luxury growing up as his daughter. And now, even her life would be threatened, and with it, his final chance to preserve his bloodline.

If only he had been fortunate enough to have a son instead.

His hand tightened around the brush until it splintered in his grip.

There was no escaping the mandate. One child of every high-ranking family would be selected, and to abstain would be treason with grounds for execution. Even the Emperor himself would be selecting one of his sons to compete.

He had no choice.

Chapter 二

Of the eight nations in Zhonghua, the Empire of Xishan boasts the greatest number of soldiers in any standing army. Three hundred thousand strong, it is said that as disciples of the great dragon Long Shen, creator of fire and one of the twelve Zodiac gods, his omnipotent power emboldens the fighters of Xishan to become the most fearsome in the world.

Kailin flipped the page.

The esteemed nation of Xishan is renowned for its unrivalled mountain peaks and clear streams. Combined with a rich volcanic terrain, the fertile soil throughout the land creates the perfect growing conditions for cultivating the highest quality tea leaves and grains.

"…Top exports to other nations include grains, liquor, and tea leaves,” she read aloud. “How thrilling.” Grand flames, this was dull. She carefully rolled up the scroll and fastened it with a soft exhale, shoving the aged study material to the side as she prepared to unfurl the next one. One of Emperor Li’s elite soldiers, albeit still in formal training, Kailin was set to graduate from the Imperial Institute of Heavenly Flame the following month. That is, if she could manage to get a passing grade in Diplomacy. Or, as she liked to call it, the Coward’s Art.

A course she grimaced at, for she would rather be thrown into a pit of blazing fires set by Long Shen himself than work as an imperial aide, doomed to waste her life grovelling at the feet of corrupt noblemen.

She didn’t lack the skillset for it. In fact, she had a natural talent for reading people. It was the tiptoeing, the false pleasantries, and the slow coiling around your neck from serpents masquerading in silk that she found particularly distasteful. She preferred to face her opponents head-on, their blades pointed directly at her heart.

Her eyes drifted lazily past the unmoving dragon etched seamlessly into the red walnut frame above the cramped desk to look out the carved window of her student quarters. She scowled with disdain, the sweeping darkness outside broken only by the flickering lights peeking around the misty clouds. The sun would come up soon.

Another all-nighter, and still no progress.

A glimmer caught her attention, the light refracting too much to be a star.

“How long do you plan on watching me for?” she declared into the empty room, eyes fixed on the star as it began to move, revealing the all-too-familiar silhouette of Wu Sunming.

“Until you swallow your pride and ask for help,” Sunming replied, arms crossed as she stepped into the room with trained poise. “You know I received an Honours in Diplomacy last year, right?”

“It would be unbecoming of a noblewoman who’s been attending Imperial family dinners since the moment she was conceived to get anything less,” Kailin shot back, shifting in her chair to glance at her friend.

Sunming was the picture of elegance. Her jet-black waves were pinned into a bun, wrapped in delicate ribbons and ornaments that framed her soft features. Today, she wore a flowing dark azure robe woven with golden birds curling up her petite frame. The fabric shimmered with a pearlescent sheen, almost appearing wet under the rich lantern light. It was almost certainly an indication of the finest raw mulberry silk imported from the Southeast River nation of Nanyang. Apparently, knowledge of foreign trade had some use after all.

“Also, you look like a peacock in mating season.” Kailin glared a moment longer before Sunming began to laugh, prompting her to relax her shoulders slightly as she let her composure slip.

“My craftsmen would think you use both your eyes for breathing if they heard that,” Sunming tutted. “Even you must appreciate the stunning lustre of Nanyang silk.”

“A dragon does not concern itself with the differences between a sparrow and a swan,” Kailin replied, raising a finger and furrowing her brow to imitate one of the temple elders. “Besides, you know, the only thing I care about when choosing my clothes is how easily I can fight in them. The more extravagant they are, the more likely I’ll end up staining them red with my blood.”

“Psh, how macabre. Clothes can still look nice and be easy to move around in. I’ll see to it that my tailors make something suited for you.” Sunming held up a hand as Kailin opened her mouth. “No objections. You’d be doing my eyes a favour.”

She sat on Kailin’s bed, elbows on her knees and chin in her hands. “Master Han reported that I’ve been doing much better in Espionage, but it seems I’m still no match for you.”

Kailin rolled her eyes. Master Han picked favourites, and Sunming’s noble birth already meant she was coddled. “Master Han is a joke. I bet he only got his position by promising lonely Minister Zao that his sister would crawl under the palace sheets with him. She’s rumoured to be a courtesan, after all.”

Sunming’s eyes widened slightly. Though she tried to hide her naivety around Kailin, her shocked expressions always betrayed her sheltered upbringing. “So, anyway, what gave me away earlier?”

“Your hairpin. I saw the reflection of gold in the window.”

She touched her hand to her head, smiling softly. “A gift from my father.”

“If I hadn’t already known it was you, your dreadfully expensive silk would be confetti by now.” Kailin lifted her sleeve, flashing a sly grin as she revealed the throwing knives hidden in the sleeves of her crimson robe. “The hairpin is exquisite, but don’t wear it so casually. I'm sure even a common thief would find it worth the risk to kill you just to tear it off your head.”

“Cold as always,” Sunming muttered. “If I hadn’t known you since we joined the academy, I’d be fully convinced you were a Dongyue spy.”

Kailin scoffed, pointing toward the door.

Like Xishan, Dongyue was a mountainous region, though situated in the East. Their people worshipped Bai Hu, the White Tiger of the Zodiac. Unlike Xishan, Dongyue knew only one season year-round: winter. Kailin didn’t understand why anyone would willingly live in the brutal tundra. “If I were a spy, the thought would never even cross your mind. Now get off my bed and leave. As hopeless as it may be, I’m trying to study.”

Sunming pouted as she stood, and Kailin ignored the pang of guilt when the voice in her head whispered to play nice. She knew Sunming didn’t have friends. It was well known which family she belonged to, so she was only approached by those who wanted her wealth, her connections, or both. Once she realised Kailin cared for neither, she hadn’t left her alone since.

But Kailin reminded herself that soon, she’d graduate into the Emperor’s service. Sunming would thrive in the cushioned life as a wealthy noblewoman; Kailin would not. She would live wherever the Emperor or the Minister of War deemed her most useful. As a soldier. A spy. An executioner. Whatever she was asked.

Only one thing was certain: playing nice would get her nowhere.

Chapter 三

The sharp morning sunlight burned against her eyelids, and Kailin let out a low grunt as she slowly raised her head from the rough surface of her desk. Drool stuck to the corner of her mouth, lifting the textbook page she’d last turned to before passing out. Fantastic. There went any hope of reselling her academy textbook.

She stepped into her shoes, threw on her plain crimson satin jumpsuit and fastened the buttons swiftly before rushing out.

Down the main hall, curtains of golden sunlight poured in from towering windows. Kneeling at the oak weapons box, Kailin selected two butterfly swords and headed for the back exit to the sparring grounds. One sword in each hand, she twirled them lazily, enjoying the familiar grip of the jagged hilts. Around her, pairs of schoolmates sparred. Some with weapons, some without. None of them exceptional.

“Kailin!” called a classmate, Lu Jiaqi, waving as she jogged over, still panting. “Would you like to come spar with my group? We’re practising hand-to-hand combat.”

Flames, it was starting to feel like noblewomen were drawn to her like moths to a torch. Was there an amulet she could wear to ward off unwanted nobles?