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Storytime in honor of the Year of the Fire Horse ♡
Backdated to March 3 for the conclusion of the Chinese New Year

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She had been quiet and contemplative. It seemed to her that time was moving slower, in that she found herself waiting often. Waiting for the Emperor to pass a spare moment by her side. Waiting for winter to turn, and the lands beyond the humid jungle to become explorable. Waiting to lay her third eye unto the new vision for Tianlong, so that she could execute it flawlessly.

Time also moved fast. The Dynasty grew, even in its own nascence. Kexin’s boy grew at an alarming rate. Somehow, the Empress found a way to be at peace with it. The boy had a father in her stoic, unassuming spy-servant – a spy, who had a few secrets of his own. Stranger yet, the air was sweet, though the winter snows that kept Tianlong confined still whipped wildly.

When time moved both fast and slow, Yue knew it was because the ancestors had stirred. They spoke through experiences such as these, and they always did so at this time, when the year began anew. It was a time of great fortune, and blessings were proffered from this well like an unending fountain of positivity. It called for communion, well-wishing, and gift-giving. In Tianlong of old, there would have been a feast.

Here, there is quietude.

The moon was full and hung heavy in the sky, its illumination scattered by verdant fanning. Only for this one night, she exchanged her wisteria ornaments for the striking shape of young heliconia boughs, the shape of red ruby droplets. She felt invigorated and walked amongst the darkened green for someone – anyone – to pass the time with. The insects chirruped and buzzed loudly to keep her company.

It was too auspicious a night to waste, when the stars twinkled so bright in the sky that they looked like lanterns drifting to the heavens.

The Empress had a story to tell.

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I apologize for this novel <3
There is no post order, or a requirement to reply.
This round will end in a week!

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First, it was Yinhua who manifested. The Empress hadn’t seen much of him since the fall of Old Tianlong, if at all. She knew he had been around, but it was an unfortunate reality that the recent events had kept her out of the aesthetician’s chair, and more time was spent in her throne, delegating orders and answering summons.

There was much to be said, almost too much – so the ambrosial empress touched her nose to his head, which rested so daintily behind his paws. It was a gesture that meant much (I miss you, come visit sometime, how have you been?) but it was cut short by the arrival of a princess. Fen.

Yue beamed towards the young woman, taking a step back to fan her tail in greeting. She smelled fresh, of lands less humid and florid – and for that, the silver queen smiled, thinking how such a thing would send Shenlei into palpations. It was best she had her fun now, before the responsibilities of her name called her to duty.

Then came Ye Lanyi, the newest addition to her imperial harem. Batu was soon to follow, as he always was.

If the Empress had not been expecting to host a small council right then, she did not show it. This is where she felt most comfortable, with eyes upon her, waiting with baited breath for her every word. It bolstered her greatly, to use the skills she had practiced since she was a child; to witness in their faces how the gods spoke to them, through the arts.

She breathed deeply, filling her lungs and lifting her breast to the dusky air. Do you feel that? Can you smell that? her eye glinted, and she looked upwards. Orbs of lilac narrowed to mere slits, looking upwards at the azure sky that slashed through the jungle canopy. The season of new beginnings is on its cusp. It feels ready to burst. To provide for everything, unendingly. Then her eyes closed, and she waited for the breath to fill her, and then leave her, before she continued.

And we are ready to receive its bounty.

The Empress regarded each of those who gathered, now. The difficult times, the barren times, the times of vagrancy – they are over. Yue knew little about the trials to come, and if she had, she wouldn’t speak so flagrantly. She made to lift and float her tail, like the brush of an artist. The mandate of heaven is like spilled ink; those it touches, it subsumes. It swells. It created a path that does not fade. There was before – and then, there is after. She painted lines in the air, and she pranced forward a step, towards Fen.

This blessing can best be understood through the story of The White Crane and The Celestial Dragon. The Princess would know this story well, having been told this tale often. At the very least, it was recited every year, every Lantern Festival, underneath the fullest moon. Her gaze now swept wide. We are never alone in this world, because the forces beyond us are conspiring for good. and it is only so because…

When the Crane and the Dragon first created the world together, there was no peace. The Celestial Dragon – Tianlong – made all of creation. He carved the rivers of the world with his tail, and mountains from his scales. When the great dragon roared, he created storms, which moved all the cycles of the world. All, except for one.

The Empress stepped away, and she dared a look at Batu.

The moon and her pure light.

It was the two integral, basic, opposing forces of the world. The Crane, as white as the moon and just as reliable and resolute, would rise into these storms. Her song would mellow the thunder, and her outstretched wings calmed the gales. At her yellow feet, flowers grew. They needed each other, the eventual storm and the brief, fleeting calm.

Yue sighed, to signify the tragedy of the next part. Perhaps those new to her culture might be surprised, thinking the Crane and the Dragon were to fall in love. It was a foolish assumption. Tianlong resisted this. The Crystal Dragon, so great and so powerful, was also wild and cruel. This is a natural aspect of Yang energy – it wields the potential to create, and also the ability to tear down. She felt compelled to hold the gaze of that dusky rogue as she spoke;

and while she did, she thought about her husband.

Emperor Shenlei, the manifestation of the Crystal Dragon himself. He was a war monger, yet he was caring. He loved deeply, he loved often, and he accepted no slight. It had been Yue’s duty, assigned and communicated through the ancestors themselves, to temper his wildness. She explained this concept to those who may not know. Of course, the Crane represents Yin energy, which can be soft and yielding, yet can have keen control and foresight. A duality within another duality, itself. Such was the nature of feminine alignment, of womanhood. It was yin. itself.

Eventually, the Dragon tired of the Crane’s nature. A war was waged between the two. They battled for a thousand days, and a thousand nights. Fire fought water, and the world was upturned; ravaged in the wake of their battle.

Yue had helmed several conquests alongside the Emperor. She was no stranger to it. The empathetic grief she felt for those churned out by the great machine that they called Dynasty. Her imperial guard knew it even better than she. The others, with their beautiful, soft, pale faces – could they even conceive of it?

The Orchid wished she had her incense and her bones right then, so that she could cast them and raise its message to the heavens, where the heavenly half of their souls resided. In this moment, her platform was her prayer.

They could not cease their warring, for their differences they could not reconcile! The Great Dragon could not see how the Crane balanced him and tempered the wild flames that threatened to run unchecked. The dragon could not accept defeat, but the truth is that –

Yue spoke to Ye Lanyi. Did she know this about her husband-to-be?
The young beauty must not fear, the Empress would help guide her.
The future of this holy creation lay cupped beneath both their hands.

She thought about the words before they left her lips. before there can be anything, there needs to be nothing. A void for something to fill. A canvas. With the force of Baixue turned against him, the Dragon truly saw the destruction he wrought. Without them working together, the world he built amounted to nothing. Her voice dropped, low and slow. Her voice smoked like a dead, departed battlefield at the end of the day. The sheer ruination that lay on the other side of forgotten restraint.

She allowed the silence to linger.

They would all know the moment of silence was over when Yue drifted to Yínhuā and placed the slight curve of paw against his shoulder. He was like she, a keeper of all things beautiful.

So, do you know what happened next? Those of you who are new to this legend, can you guess who rose from the ashes as victor?

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