CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
T he world the sun rose upon this morning is not the same one the night will claim.
My pulse races as I step out from the forest to join Dian and Ruilin, entering a wide clearing ringed by rolling hills.
It’s warmer here, the slopes covered with grass so lush and evenly grown it looks painted on, wildflowers speckling the grounds.
The quiet is the kind that settles into one’s mind, easing its cares.
Dian is sitting against a tree, Ruilin beside her. More color has returned to my sister’s face, though her eyes are listless and dull, like the suffering she’s endured haunts her still.
“You were gone a long while, Sister,” she says pointedly. “Did Lord Jin-Yong try to keep you from returning?”
I suppress a flush. “He saved us. We should be grateful.”
“I am,” she says with a sigh. “But I still don’t like him.”
I won’t argue with her while she’s unwell. “Are you feeling better?”
“A little.” Despite her smile, she keeps one hand clasped over the other like she’s afraid her ring will be taken again.
“What else do you need?” I reach for my pouch of herbs. “Tell me and I’ll find it.”
She shakes her head. “I just want to go home.”
“How is the dragon?” I ask.
“His breathing has steadied, yet he’s not regained consciousness.” Dian’s hand cradles the makeshift sling the Sun Dragon is tucked in. “Let’s hope the Elders know how to revive him.”
“How do we get to Mist Island?” Ruilin asks, searching the valley.
Dian inclines her head at me. “You must bring us home.”
“Can I?” I ask uncertainly.
“You are one of us, a daughter of Mist Island.”
Her words echo those of the Sun Dragon’s, kindling a warmth in my heart.
On instinct, I bend to press my hand to the earth, my ring brushing the soil.
The band glows brighter, the petals of the flower fluttering though the air is still.
The golden root on my ring shimmers—a different type of heat flowing through me from the magic I channeled.
This isn’t a struggle or strain, just an inexplicable sense of belonging.
Something glimmers in the distance like stars streaking across the heavens.
A wind stirs thick with the scent of flowers, of salt and brine.
It smells like freedom—like change. The grass flattens, a narrow path forming that winds between the hills.
Ahead ripples a boundless stretch of water, of glistening sands, voluminous ribbons of mist weaving between the islands dotting the horizon.
Dian walks beside me as we follow the pathway over the hills, heading toward the shoreline. We walk a long way yet I’m not tired. As we step into the water, it laps around my ankles, as warm as summer. The mist cloaks us until it’s like we’re standing in a cloud.
Dian’s eyes are bright. “Are you ready to go home, Sister?”
Her question pulses through my mind, doubt echoing after.
What lies on the horizon? I won’t think of the frightening stories I heard—but of the family that awaits me.
Will they welcome me as Dian did, or will I face scorn and mistrust, an unwelcome outsider?
And what about my father? Will he see himself in me, or glimpses of my mother?
Even if he does, I can’t tell if he’ll cherish these resemblances or resent their remembrance.
“I’m ready.” Yet the truth is, I might never be.
Dian’s fingers slide between mine. The wind blows, bearing the sweetness of flowers, the indefinable salt of the sea.
What life might I have had here, down the straight path instead of tumbling into the abyss?
Dian and I would have grown up together, the intimacy of sisterhood cultivated with our tears and smiles, memories that bind us closer than the blood in our veins.
Longing pierces me for those stolen years, bitter with regret and sharp with fury, for the family we never had a chance to be.
But while our past was stolen from us, our future remains unwritten.
A gift, in a way. I’m lucky to be standing here now, the ghosts of my past grazing the shadows of the future, the loss entwined with love—that I can choose whether to move onward or stand still.
There is no wrong decision as long as it’s mine.
It is quiet here, by these mist-drenched waters, where dreams and reality interlace and blur.
But my hand is in my sister’s, and this is real.
A rich fragrance spills over us, the azure waters crested with pearl foam.
Lotuses appear, each the width of two palms, their radiant petals dusted in silver, forming a path.
Anticipation surges through my veins. What lies ahead on the unknown horizon, in the land shrouded in mist, where the petals rain upon the ground? Danger, undoubtedly. Heartache too.
But fear won’t make a coward of me today. I’ve had enough of questions; it’s time to seek the answers. One step forward, leaving my past behind, reaching for what lies beyond the curve.
There lies my destiny, and I will claim it.