3/5/2026, 2:43 AM
(This post was last modified: 3/5/2026, 3:11 AM by Rosie Partytime.)
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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
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.
Backdated to March 3 for the conclusion of the Chinese New Year
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.
༻❁༺
