The forest did not care for her grief.
Branches whipped at her face as Yuyan ran, her breath ragged, her chest burning. The roots clawed at her feet, stones tore at her skin, but still she did not stop. Every step felt like fire in her legs, but she pressed forward, ignoring the pain. Tears blurred her sight, falling freely, but she would not falter.
Her mind was a storm. Her mother's smile, bloodied but resolute. Her father's flame, standing unbroken against steel. Fang Zhi's eyes, once warm, now lifeless. The faces of servants, guards, elders—all swallowed by crimson and azure.
They would not leave her. They would never leave her.
Her eyes burned—not only with sorrow, but with something harsher, sharper. Pain, yes. Determination. Survival. And somewhere, hidden deep, a seed of revenge.
Her lips parted, whispering the words again and again like a mantra, her mother's final command cutting through her sobs.
"Survive… survive…"
The night devoured her voice, but she whispered still.
Hours passed. The moon wheeled overhead. Still she ran. Her body screamed in protest, but her spirit refused to yield. She could not stop—not yet.
At last, her steps faltered. Exhaustion wrapped around her like chains, dragging at her limbs. Her lungs burned with each breath, her vision swam. Her legs, though trembling, had carried her farther than she thought possible.
She stopped.
Panting, she looked back at the endless trees. There was no light, no sound of pursuit. Only the hush of the forest, indifferent to her suffering. She had run far enough.
But still, she dared not be careless.
Her small hands brushed the ground, sweeping away footprints, scattering the leaves to blur her trail. Every movement was clumsy, driven by instinct more than thought. At last, satisfied, she staggered toward a shadow in the cliffside—an opening half-hidden by brambles.
A cave.
She slipped inside, heart pounding, the air damp and cool. The faint drip of water echoed in the darkness. She pressed deeper until she found a patch of level stone, and there, at last, she let herself fall.
The cold ground bit into her, but she welcomed it. For the first time since the night began, she drew a full breath. She leaned against the wall, hugging her knees close, eyes fluttering shut.
Exhaustion claimed her in an instant.
⸻
Dreams gave her no peace.
The night replayed itself again and again in her sleep. The clash of steel. The shrieks. Fang Zhi's eyes, empty and glassy. Her father's back, blazing with scarlet flame, never turning toward her. Her mother's blood blooming against the moonlight as she whispered her last words.
Yuyan screamed in her dreams, and woke with a start.
Her body jolted upright, sweat dampening her hair, breath ragged. For a moment, she could not tell if she still slept. The cave's shadows seemed alive, flickering like the battlefield.
"No…" she gasped, clutching at her chest.
Her hands flew to the ground, palms pressing against the stone as if to anchor herself. She touched the rough surface, traced the cold earth. The sensation grounded her—real, solid. Not a dream.
Her hand slid further, brushing against something sharp. Pain lanced through her finger. She hissed, jerking her hand back.
A bead of crimson welled up.
She stared at the tiny injury, her heart twisting. A memory rose, unbidden and cruel: her mother, scolding her softly when she scraped herself during training, always pretending to be stern before bandaging the wound with gentle hands.
The image brought a sob to her throat, but no tears came. She had cried them all already.
Instead, she smiled—a bitter, sorrowful curve of her lips.
"I… I'll be fine, Mother," she whispered to the empty cave. Her voice trembled, but the words felt steady, as though she were saying them for her mother's sake, not her own.
Her gaze drifted downward, falling upon the necklace at her chest.
The crimson jade amulet.
Her mother's hands had fastened it upon her in the midst of chaos, as if it were more precious than life itself. Yuyan's small fingers clutched it tightly now, pressing it against her heart.
"This… is all that's left of you. Of everyone."
The weight of it seemed heavier than before. No longer just a trinket, but the last link to her clan, her blood, her family.
She closed her eyes, tears finally slipping down her cheeks.
The jade grew warm.
Yuyan gasped. She opened her eyes just as the necklace pulsed with light.
A glow, faint at first, then brightening, spilling across the cave walls. She shielded her eyes with her arm, heart hammering.
The crimson radiance filled the cave, pure and steady.
She could see nothing beyond it.
Only light.
Only warmth.