Chapter 1
Before
The woods are quiet this time of year, devoid of birds that have migrated to warmer regions to escape the harsh winter. Every
footstep magnifies in the silence.
Four walks on, a lonely god in a mortal world.
“I do not understand why you visit there so often, Brother,” Ten had said before Four left the underworld. “Mortals are nothing
but ants at our feet, living their short, miserable lives in terror and stupidity. They are full of insatiable desires, wanting
things they do not deserve or understand. And they do so without a shred of true curiosity, choosing only to possess or destroy.”
Four knew better than to argue; the Tenth King had never liked mortals. From Four’s own observations, the mortals lead interesting
and meaningful lives. Weak and vulnerable, they suffer calamity and illness and pain from affairs of the heart, eventually
fading in old age with broken bodies and minds. Yet they persevere, finding joy in the smallest of things, believing they
can change their fates and transform their destinies. The mortals feel hatred and love, and it is the latter that Four is
most curious about. It is said that the Kings were born without hearts, and while Four is able to experience a spectrum of emotions, love is one that only humans are blessed—and cursed—to feel.
His solitary stroll today is interrupted by distant shouts. Smoke curls in the air, sinister against the pale winter sky.
He hesitates by the black pine trees. He wants to hurry forward, to help the mortals in need. But the ancient tenets warn
that even the most fleeting disturbance to the balance between the realms could bring untold catastrophe.
Suddenly, a young woman appears amid the falling snow. Her blood-streaked robes billow as she runs past him in a flutter of purple. She reminds him of the beautiful wisterias that bloom in this realm, and as he watches her, it feels like he is seeing color for the first time.
Abruptly, she stops, her arms raised, a gleaming sword in each hand. She senses something.
Curiosity gets the better of him, and Four moves closer.
The young woman turns. And when their eyes meet, just for a moment, Four thinks he can hear something tremble in his hollow
chest. He feels like he knows her somehow. From some other life or lifetimes ago. But that is impossible. He is a King of
the underworld. Eternal, cold, alone.
He cannot look away from the young woman standing before him. Pleased that she holds his gaze, he senses she is equally fascinated.
There’s a noise.
The young woman spins to his side.
“Stay quiet,” she warns, her eyes trained on something ahead.
At first, Four is confused. Then he sees the Revenant. A lost soul infected and cursed by the Blight. When mortals die, their remorse and
all the pain and suffering from their mortal lives emit a negative energy. That energy is what the Blight feeds on, transforming
those poor souls into terrible monsters craving the yangqi—light—they once had.
With war brewing at the edges of this kingdom, the Reapers from the underworld have had trouble with soul collections, resulting
in an open feast for the Blight and an increase in Revenants.
Catching the scent of the young woman’s vibrant yangqi, the Revenant snarls, hungry, a forked tongue running over its drooling mouth.
Four wants to protect her. To use his power to get rid of the foul creature. But the rules of his world forbid any intervention.
His hands ball into fists. Worlds be damned. He cannot—he will not—let her die.
But before he can lift a finger, he sees the look in her eyes. She is relishing the fight to come.
“Don’t be afraid,” she says, barely sparing him a glance. “I’m here.”
The young woman launches into the air. Crimson light bursts from her dual swords, unfurling like petals of a blooming flower. Light reflects against the falling snow, beautiful and warm. Magic. She must be a cultivator capable of exorcism.
His chest stirring, Four watches as she twirls gracefully in a dance of death. A glorious queen, he thinks. A Queen to his King. But he isn’t sure
what that means or why he would even think it.
The young woman’s blades make quick work of the Revenant. The monster shrieks, and the awful sound reverberates through the
forest. Shuddering, it disintegrates into vapor.
The young woman lands in a crouch. Rising slowly, she flicks her sword and sheathes it in one smooth motion. Her other sword
stays in her hand as if she expects more danger to come. But her large dark eyes watch Four steadily like a trusting fawn
as she strides back to him. A triumphant smile spreads across her face. A smile brighter than light.
Four’s knees buckle and hit the ice-cold ground. He feels a once-hardened emptiness in his chest soften. Feels alive for the
first time in his existence.
Something burns.
He lifts his arm. His sleeve slides down, and he is stunned to see a thin red line etching itself into his skin.
Impossible.
But there it is. Red like blood. Something no King could or should ever possess.
A love thread.
The thin red line sparks, glowing softly for a moment before disappearing into Four’s flesh as if it was never there to begin
with. But he feels it inside, inching its way closer and closer to his soul.
Trembling, he looks up at the young woman and whispers, “What is your name?”
“Lei Ying,” she replies. “And yours?”
“Four.”