Lian awoke at dawn, as she did every morning. The lengthy rituals of her dressing made an early start a necessity for her to be able to properly get her day started. The fall chill pricked at her skin, and she curled up into a tighter ball with a furrow of her brow, reluctant to rise and made more so by the cold she knew to be waiting for her. Hmmm...今天好冷... (It's so chilly today) But the princess' protests did not garner the expected retort from her handmaiden. After another moment, as Lian felt a stone firm and unyielding beneath her shoulder and smelled the lack of incense on the air, before she pried golden eyes open to a world strange and new.

Gone was the patterned silk she draped herself in, the luxurious hair ornaments, slender sticks of smoking incense, warm wooden floorboards beneath her feet. Now, before her lay a glorious sun dawning in red, gold and pink over the distant, shrouded horizon. Moss-covered, weather-worn bricks of stone sprawled haphazardly throughout a dizzying labyrinth of streams that glittered in the light and laughed and laughed at Lian and the surely foolish look on a face she would not recognize. She gathered sprawling paws close to herself, ears and tail disappearing into her frightened, waifish silhouette. 哦——什么?! (Oh - what?!) Where was her handmaiden, the ancient walls of the palace, her mother's soothing presence! Was this a terrible dream? Lian dug a claw into the soft skin between two of her knuckles, then sucked in a hiss of pained breath over sharp teeth.

Tears glinted in the dawn light, a diamond-like sheen over gilt eyes alight with confusion. This place, like the palace, was ancient - just not half as well cared for as her home. And mud - oh! Mud caked the paw, all the way up a slender arm that had rested beneath her body as she had arrived her. A distressed, mild sound keened out from Lian's closed lips as she stumbled forward on uneven ground. Perhaps...perhaps she was dead?

SKILL: ORATOR (1/5)

---

He’d been walking the edge of the ruins when something in the air shifted. It was small, almost nothing, just that strange, quiet pull that made the fur along his spine rise. Then came the scent. Faint, but familiar in a way that hit him right in the chest. Jasmine. Sandalwood. Incense.

And something newer too: mud, moss, and the damp of this strange place.

For a second, he stopped breathing. It couldn’t be, he thought. It just… couldn’t.

And then he heard it. That small, frightened sound that cracked through the silence like glass.

...Lian.

Her name fell out of him before he could stop it—barely a whisper, half disbelieving and half in awe. Could it be? Could the Celestial Dragon have blessed him so?

He didn’t think after that. He just moved. His paws carried him fast through the mud and grass until he saw her—small and curled, fur a mess, and golden eyes wide with fear and confusion. For a moment, all he could do was stare. His little girl. His daughter. Here.

Lian… he said again, voice breaking somewhere between relief and awe. By the Blessings of the Heavenly Dragon...

He was at her side before she could blink, lowering his head to nudge her shoulder gently. The smell of her, alive and real, hit him so hard he almost laughed.

You’re here, he breathed out, soft and shaky, a smile finally pulling at his lips. You’re really here.

He pulled back just enough to look her over, his golden eyes full of warmth and disbelief. I thought I’d lost you to the world between, he admitted quietly, then let out a small huff that might’ve been a laugh. And yet here you are. He grinned, eyes narrowing with playful fondness. You’ve got mud on your face, little lotus. Your mother would faint if she saw you like this.

He turned his head toward a stream not far away, flicking his tail for her to follow. Come, my darling girl. Let’s get you cleaned up before I start catching the ghosts of our ancestors yelling at me for letting a princess of Tianlong roll around in the dirt.

---

Just as the burning tears threatened to finally spill, a voice broke through the princess' distraught reverie. A familiar face filled her searching gaze. The world, shaken on its foundations, fit suddenly and neatly back into place.

Baba! She squeaked, feeling small and frightened and childish, but not yet embarrassed about that for once. She only stretched out her nose like palms reaching for the sky, and let herself be gathered into her father's embrace with a broken hiccup. Lian's usual aversion to affection and adherence to propriety flew away on the marsh-scented autumn breeze. She threw her muddy paws around the emperor's shoulders, buried her face into his dark pelt. His solid frame was what she needed to ground herself, to assure her they were both here, and alive. I thought I was - ! She could not say it.

Shenlei pulled away first, but Lian let him go with only a resolute sniffle and a lift of her chin that spoke of her freshly renewed efforts to regain her dignity in the face of this crisis. I'm here. She reassured, voice a little shaky but regaining strength with every beat of her heart. Questions, by the dozens, warred for which would spill off her tongue first as she sat up properly, only for her ears to sink into her scruff with embarrassed alarm as her father pointed out the mud.

Ah, yes. Lian's eyes brightened at the mention of Mei. Is she here, too? Baba, what on earth has happened? Where are - Lian snapped her jaw shut with a crease between her brow. She took a deep breath. I am getting ahead of myself. She trusted Shenlei would have at least some of the answers. And now that they were reunited, she felt assured any more answers would be unearthed in due time. There was no need for her to get too worked up over it all. If he had taught her anything, approaching overwhelming problems such as this strange new world would be best managed by a steady paw and calm mind.

Shenlei turned toward the giggling stream nearby, beckoning the princess with a flick of his tail. She wasted no time following on light paws, dismay decaying her very soul at the sensation of mud between her toes, matting the fur of her cheek. Whatever blessings the Celestial Dragon had bestowed on them had not come without its share of costs, eugh.

One question weighed upon her mind. For Lian, not a day had passed without her father's presence in the palace - such a disappearance would have surely caused a stir, one so drastic she dared not think of it. Yet the way Shenlei spoke, the way he had looked at her - How long have you been here...? Her voice was soft, worry providing a mild note of strain within the question.

SKILL: ORATOR (2/5)

---

For a long moment, he didn’t move. He just stood there, staring down at her like he’d forgotten how to breathe.

Then—“Baba!”

The sound of her voice cracked something wide open in him. The last bit of composure he’d been clinging to dissolved in an instant. He barely had time to open his mouth before she was in his chest, a small, shaking bundle of fur and tears. The word daughter felt too small for what she was—what she’d always been. His world. His light. His sun. His little lotus blossom.

He let out a sound that was half a laugh and half a breathless choke, pressing his muzzle against her head. Oh, little lotus, he whispered into her fur, his voice thick and unsteady in a way it hadn’t been in years. You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you call me that again.

For once, he didn’t care that his fur was being ruined by mud or that she was practically dripping in it. He only held her a little tighter, a low rumble escaping him as he wrapped a single leg around her lower back and tugged her closer. You thought you were what? he murmured against her crown, pulling back just enough to look her over, bronze eyes gleaming faintly in the light. Gone? Lost? Nonsense. My daughter doesn’t get lost. The world just takes a while to catch up to her.

He smiled, soft and crooked, the kind that almost hurt to make. Then, in a teasing hum, he spoke, though, I’ll admit, you look a little like you wrestled a bog spirit and lost.

When she mentioned Mei, his expression gentled again, something like pride and longing flickering across his face. Not yet, he said quietly. But I believe she’ll find her way here, too. The Celestial Dragon doesn’t break families apart for good. Just… scatters them, to see if we can find our way back.

As they walked, his eyes stayed on her—not constantly, but often enough that it was clear he still didn’t quite trust the sight of her to last. He watched the way the morning light caught in her fur and the way her composure was already rebuilding itself piece by piece. It made him want to laugh again. She was so much like her mother—stubborn, graceful, and endlessly proud—yet entirely herself.

When she finally asked her question, his steps slowed. He glanced down at her, expression shifting to something softer and quieter. Long enough to think I'd never see you again, he admitted. A couple of weeks, maybe more. While the sun rises the same, the stars aren’t where they should be. How long has it been for you, daughter?

A small pause. Then, lightly—because if he didn’t, he might start crying again—he added, You know, for a princess who’s just woken up here, you still manage to look like you’re ready to lecture the court.

He reached over and bumped her shoulder with his own, grinning. I’m glad you’re here, Lian, he said quietly. The empire might be gone for the both of us, but… at least my world’s a little brighter now.

---

It had been months since anything had rattled them badly enough for Shenlei and Lian to seek this much contact. His voice was a reassuring rumble that reverberated in her own chest, her cheek pressed into fur she'd not inherited a single shade from. But he was still her father, evidenced by the fact that platitudes that might appear empty from another's mouth only helped to fit the shattered pieces of the reborn lotus back together, seamless as if the journey through worlds had never even happened. Here, she was safe without question.

A slightly teary chuckle filled the air as she spoke. The world just takes a while to catch up with her, but was she not the one catching up to him? How long had he been here, alone, his family's fate unknown, the divine mandate to care for his people out of his grasp? Her ears pinned into her fur with half-mortification, half-amusement as he continued. Well-! I could not have chosen where I woke up! She retorted, feigning more indignance than she felt.

The mention of Mei seemed to sober Shenlei, and his assurances did not bolster the princess' own dour demeanor as they walked. She will. She agreed nonetheless, and this she believed. Her mother was nothing if not determined to hold onto that which was hers. Mei would return to them if there was a path through which to do so, but there was no telling how long they would be without Heaven's Heart.

Shenlei did not walk swiftly, but his longer limbs and long strides made Lian shuffle her paws with haste to keep up, and keep herself within his periphery. Her golden gaze had not missed the way he kept glancing back at her, and it was no great task to simply do what she could to put his mind at ease. Her growing suspicions were confirmed, then, as Shenlei finally answered her question. Weeks. Weeks!

Her expression folded like the furls of a petal, a opened bloom of sympathetic grief. Oh, Baba...I'm so sorry. Her head shook slightly. It hasn't been any time at all for me - I think we must've shared a meal earlier in the day, I went to bed, I woke up here. She offered him the grace to at least not linger too long on the matter - for there was the more pressing one of the mud drying in her fur. Lian stepped forward into the pool she'd been led to, the cool water making her ears flick and a grimace cross her features before she eagerly set about the task of washing her fur. The pause was brief in their conversation, only for Shenlei to turn the topic away from his time here in this new world and back on to Lian.

She shot him a not-entirely-convinced look over her shoulder, as if to say You can joke, but I didn't forget about that terribly tragic thing you just said. Lian lifted her chin primly, ignoring the water droplets that dripped off her chin. I don't lecture the court. I advise them, so they might make more wise decisions. Despite her efforts at a serious face, a smirk tugged at one edge of the princess' mouth. It broadened into a proper smile as Shenlei expressed his gratitude. It's as you say, Father. The sun will never set on the Tianlong - we only have to wait for the clouds to part.

SKILL: SKILL NAME (1/5)

---

Shēnléi’s laughter came low and soft, almost hidden beneath his breath, but the sound carried warmth— a deep, steady hum that rippled through his chest and into hers where her head rested. It had been so long since he’d held her like this. Too long. The weight of her against him, real and breathing, undid something inside him that words couldn’t touch.

Mm, he murmured, brushing his chin against the top of her head, you always did find the most inconvenient ways to travel, little lotus. His tone was teasing, but the edges softened by affection. Next time, try to wake up somewhere with less mud. I was starting to think the swamp gods were playing some kind of joke on me.

He smiled faintly, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. There was a tiredness there— one born not from a lack of rest, but from too many silent nights spent waiting. Her laugh, her voice, even her scolding, it was like sunlight breaking through a fog he’d been walking in for weeks.

When she apologized, his ears tipped back slightly, and he looked at her with that quiet, unreadable sort of patience he’d always had with his daughters. Don’t be sorry, he said gently. The fault isn’t yours. None of this is. He hesitated, then added softer, You came when you could. That’s enough.

His gaze drifted over the murky water as she waded in, his tail flicking once as if to keep himself anchored to the moment. It was strange, seeing her again like this— grown, graceful, and still every bit the bright creature she’d been in the palace halls, but changed too. The air around her felt different now. He wasn’t sure if it was her maturity or the world itself reshaping her.

When she turned to give him that look, the one that said she wasn’t fooled by his easy tone, he let out a small, knowing hum. Ah, my little court adviser, he said with mock solemnity, ever the diplomat. If I remember correctly, half of your ‘advice’ involved lecturing me on my posture during council meetings. His grin widened when she smirked, something boyish and unguarded in it that most hadn’t seen since his youth. I should’ve known your tongue would survive the journey across worlds.

But when she mentioned her mother, his voice softened again. The jest faded from his lips. She will, he agreed quietly, gaze following the shifting reflection of the moon across the pool. Your mother’s too stubborn to stay away from what’s hers. If there’s a path, she’ll find it. You have her fire, after all. She won’t let the world swallow her.

He watched her for a moment longer, the silver light tracing her features, the way the water clung to her fur. A quiet ache threaded through his chest— pride and grief tangled into something bittersweet.

You sound more and more like her, you know, he said, almost to himself. The way you talk about the sun and clouds… Mei used to say things like that when I worried too much. His lips quirked, just barely. Seems I’m outnumbered again.

He shifted closer to the edge of the pool, lowering his head enough that their eyes met— his bright, bronze colored ones softened by something rawer than he meant to show. I meant what I said, Lian, he murmured. The sun hasn’t set on us. It can’t. Not while you’re here by my side to help keep me and your sister in line.

A pause. His gaze lingered on her face, memorizing the way she looked in this world— still radiant, still his daughter, even covered in mud as she was. Come, he said at last, voice lighter again. Finish washing. You can’t have the new world’s first impression of Tianlong’s princess be a swamp rat. Heaven forbid.

A grin, wry and teasing, slipped through. Though, I must admit… for a creature dredged up from the muck, you clean up well.

He didn’t wait for her retort this time— he already knew it would come. Instead, he turned his head toward the dark horizon, his voice quieter when he spoke next.

---

She offered him a wan, slightly sorrowful smile as he assured her. You came when you could. That's enough. There had been no decision to do so on Lian's end. It was merely the Dragon's breath, pushing her gently along the path she was meant to take. But she knew if she had woken up that morning to find her father absent - yes, she would have arrived here sooner or later anyway. Nothing would have stopped her.

She was Tianlong, after all. The lotus, pure as snow, bloomed best within the murkiest of waters.

Ripples elegantly followed her every movement as she scrubbed the mud off her fur, then simply enjoyed the comforting buoyancy of the pool's still waters. Like her namesake, the princess was quite at home in the water, though she avoided it in polite company. Lian enjoyed these talks of theirs, when the father and his daughter would sit and meander through topics of conversation with the unhurried flight of a crane. If I didn't tell you to sit up straight, Nǎinai ('paternal grandmother') would instead. Lian pursed her lips at him, so as to mask a mischievous smile fighting to crease her features.

He said she sounded more and more like Mei. Lian was warmed by the thought. She knew she took after Mei so much - from her coat to her small build to her resolute commitment to doing good. Not that either the Empress or Emperor were anything but altruistic. Lian could see how hard they worked to make the Tianlong strong, to do right by their people and one another. Any comparison between the princess and any of those in her closest circle was a comparison she was flattered by, and it showed in her appreciative, bright smile and shyly pinned ears. She could only reply with an agreeable hum at first.

She would not tell her parents, but a little part of her was a bit vexed by the comparison. As much as Lian wanted to make her parents proud, she wanted...more, too. She wanted to take what they had to teach her, to give her, and build on it. To be acknowledged for her accomplishments as Lian, not as a mirror of the best parts of those who'd created her.

It was teenaged rebellion clad in the ambitions of a youth with a heart too gentle to reject the support system she cared for so deeply. Her identity was in flux, and Lian ached to have some direction with which to figure herself out. If she thought about it too hard, though, she knew no one - not even her wise father or empathetic mother - could give her a shortcut. She had to pave the path for herself, laying each stone by hand.

She had grown lost in thought as well, staring into her reflection in the rippling surface of the water, until Shenlei moved in her peripheral. Lian glanced up at him, golden eyes meeting his darker shade. Her expression was soft, brows arched in such a way that fully revealed the youth she was still clumsily navigating her way through and her reliance on him to guide her through it. She had lost everything she'd ever known in a swift blow, returned only one small - but vital - pillar in her father before her.

The loss, however, was a thorn in her paw she was not used to, and it tinged her warmth with a faint but perhaps noticeable melancholic, somewhat nervous edge.

I know. She replied, voice steady. Did that mean Fen was here, too? Lian gave a little sigh of relief, sinking deeper into the waters until they lapped at her chin. Shenlei urged her to hurry with her impromptu bath. Lian let her paws curl up from the pebbled bottom of the pool so her head could sink beneath the ripples, before climbing out with a few brisk steps. Her coat streamed water, but a firm shake left her with only damp spikes of red-tinged fur to tidy as she walked.

She was not one for much physical affection, but her heart beating strongly within her chest ached as if a little bruised. Lian thought they could both use it, so she trotted until she was close enough to gently bump her shoulder against Shenlei's flank. Too bad there's nothing to be done about you, even before the swamp got a hold of you. She snarked back, laughter lining every word.