The Dragon Prince's Warrior

In dreams

If things had worsened a bit for the empress and her family at dusk, the dawn had been downright terrible. No one had closed their eyes for an instant. An had started experiencing episodes of mild convulsions that had been worsening as time went by.

An had been muttering unintelligible things every half an hour; they didn’t even sound like words. Heng had to leave the room, trying to contain his anguish at seeing his wife in this state. Why her? If the universe wanted to make someone pay, why not him? The suffering his beloved wife was going through was inhumane, unfair, and she didn’t deserve it. She, who was the most peaceful being he had ever known in his entire life.

In one of those episodes, An had opened her eyes wide and extended her hands as if reaching out for something; then she returned to the state she had been in most of the time. Shun had tried to talk to his mother, but to no avail. While Jin continued changing the cold compresses to lower her fever, every attempt to improve the situation only made things worse for An.

“Yun, brother. Come back soon with good news,” Shun pleaded as he and Jin looked at the false ceiling of the room.

“May the universe allow our brother to find the miraculous feather that will save her from this adversity,” Jin prayed, directing his hands toward his mother’s, which were colder than a block of ice.

In that very instant, both princes saw a fleeting glow coming from outside. They both turned to look at each other, puzzled by this “strange phenomenon.” Shun couldn’t help but immediately stand up, followed by Jin, and synchronized, they walked out into the hallway, approaching the large window to see what it was. But what they found was their grieving father, watching the precise moment the sun began to rise, welcoming the new day.

“Jin, pinch me if you saw what I... Ouch! At least give a warning first,” Shun complained as he rubbed his arm.

“You ask for it, and I deliver as a good brother should. At least thank me for confirming you’re not crazy and, indeed, we saw the same thing,” Jin retorted with a challenging look.

“You two...” Heng turned around “Do you think it’s time for jokes or what in the world is wrong with you, huh? I’m not in the mood for your childishness, you should have learned by now, by the gods!”

Heng leaned his hands against the concrete of the large window, while the two young men lowered their gaze. The emperor’s eyes showed weariness, sadness, and desperation. Shun dared to speak in almost a whisper.

“Father, we apologize.” Shun still looked at the ground and bowed “If you’d allow me to explain...”

“No! Today I’m not in the mood for any explanations, valid or not,” he snapped, very irritated “I just want to get back to the room with An, and if you’re going to tell me anything, let it be the great news that Yun is coming back safe and sound with the Fenghuang’s feather.”

Heng turned around to make his way back to his wife’s side, leaving Shun speechless, who could only clench his hands in bewilderment. He took a deep breath and took a step, he was determined to clarify everything, but Jin’s hand grabbed his shoulder.

“And now what, Jin? Why are you stopping me?” Shun said, starting to get angry.

“Let it go, brother. I’m sure he didn’t see what we did; otherwise, he would have mentioned it. Besides, we don’t even know what the heck that was. It could have been a trick of the sunlight, that’s the most likely explanation,” Jin clarified to his almost furious brother.

“Yes, that’s possible, but... I really don’t think it was the sun. It was much brighter,” Shun debated.

“You’re right. I need to find out something,” Jin agreed. “Hey, cover for me with father,” he asked his brother as he started walking towards the main hall.

“Jin, you’re crazy,” Shun retorted, and his younger brother raised his hand to bid him farewell, without even looking back.

Shun inhaled the morning air, regained his composure, and reentered the room where his mother was fighting for her life, and his father looked at him with a hint of melancholy. In silence, they continued to care for An, who was starting to move her lips again, further deepening the anguish in their hearts.

(...)

Just as the first light of dawn began to touch the mountains, Yun had risen to prepare himself mentally and continue with the tortuous and uncertain journey that gnawed at him with anxiety and indecision. He sat in a meditative position, as he did every day. He needed to focus his thoughts and figure out how to solve that damn puzzle that was more tangled than his own mood.

Mei had also risen around the same time as Yun, and at that moment, she was checking on Siu, who was still fast asleep. Seeing that she hadn’t relapsed, Mei felt relieved and stepped out of the cave to start gathering dry twigs.

Before dawn, she and Yun had gone fishing at the nearby river. Nature had been generous, and they had caught enough fish for breakfast before each of them departed for different destinations. And most importantly, there were no enemies in the vicinity.

Meditating proved to be quite challenging for Yun. His emotions were in turmoil due to the dream he had during the night, and he couldn’t help but glance at Siu out of the corner of his eye, who showed no signs of wanting to wake up. But what intrigued him the most was her expression: she furrowed her brow, as if experiencing some discomfort. In addition to that, Yun managed to spot that the girl was wearing a jade earring that had slipped out from her neckline and was glistening in the faint sunlight.

“Could it be a Fenghuang pendant?”

“Young Yun,” Mei snapped the prince out of his thoughts. “It seems your meditation has ended. I’ve cleaned the fish, and we’ll have a nutritious breakfast.”

“Mei... May I ask why you called me by my name?” The young mother was startled by the question.

“Oh, well...” she took a moment to respond. “The young lady Siu mentioned it. Weren’t you awake? I thought you overheard our conversation last night,” she explained with a hint of nervousness.

“No,” Yun smiled slightly. “My sleep tends to be quite deep once I fall asleep. There’s no problem with you knowing my name. It was just curiosity.”

“I’m glad to know the name of the person who has helped me so much,” Mei said with a smile, and Yun didn’t know how to react. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll start grilling the fish.”

“I’ll help you,” Yun got up, and together they prepared breakfast.

When Siu opened her eyes, the aroma of grilled fish filled her nose. She felt a bit groggy, but she knew it was due to the sleepless night, as she wasn’t used to staying up. Almost like a spring, she sat up, and Yun was taken aback by how quickly she had risen.

“Good morning,” Siu greeted her two companions.

“Good morning, young lady Siu,” the cheerful Mei greeted.

“Good morning, Siu,” Yun said softly, his gaze still on his breakfast.

“Well, that smells delicious,” the archer girl praised as she joined them.

“It seems you’ve fully recovered,” Mei remarked, handing Siu a fish on a previously washed leaf.

“Of course,” Siu nodded in gratitude, “my body has the knack for healing quickly,” she said with a smile, taking the first bite of her fish.

Yun found it to be quite an extraordinary quality. That burly man had strangled her, which wasn’t easy by any means, yet here she was fully recovered, with no signs of bruises or wounds. As surprised as he was, he was greatly relieved that she was alright. It wasn’t a joke when she had told him she could handle herself in life.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Yun uttered, looking at Siu with a serious expression.

“Thank you, because I know you helped me, along with Mei,” she responded with a wide smile, and Yun averted his gaze to continue eating.

Mei noticed the tension between the two young ones but didn’t intervene, focusing on her meal.

“By the way, guys,” Siu mentioned, “How did you spend the night? Everything alright?”

“Well, I had nightmares,” Mei confessed. “I dreamt that I found my children, but lifeless...” Mei couldn’t help but lower her gaze with anguish.

“My parents have told me that dreaming of death signifies life,” Siu replied.

“I think I’ve heard that, still, that nightmare really upset me,” Mei confessed before turning to Yun. “And what about you, young Yun?”

“Well... Actually, I didn’t dream anything significant to mention,” he said with a hint of uncertainty.

But, of course, his dream had unsettled him a bit, truth be told, because he had dreamt of none other than his beloved mother. In his dream, everything was shrouded in darkness, but he could see her clearly: she was sitting on his lap, but then she stood up. She was wearing an elegant black mianfu.

On the skirt, there was an embroidered golden dragon, and on each of the long sleeves, there was a long-tailed, slender-necked bird embroidered. Could that be the Fenghuang? It resembled the images in the palace chapels, and even the one on Siu’s jade pendant, which, upon waking up, she had concealed beneath the neckline of her qipao.

But the most astonishing part was watching his mother seem to speak towards the heavens, and suddenly, a resplendent and magnificent bird descended upon her. He wasn’t sure if she was truly communicating with the Fenghuang itself, but it was just a dream.

Yun wished that bird would appear to him in such a splendid form and allow him to take a feather; he asked for nothing more in life. Undoubtedly, that dream was quite strange, but he needed to be realistic – it was just a dream. Reality was different.

“I actually had a very strange dream,” Siu said, nearly finishing her breakfast.

“I knew it,” Mei said. “You were tossing and turning a lot and making faces,” she pointed out, waiting for the girl to recount her dream.

Both Yun and Mei were eager to hear. Siu began to open her mouth to start, but outside the cave, two figures had appeared, causing Yun to jump up in an instant and assume a defensive stance. Mei and Siu also stood up, but what they saw made the prince relax his guard and the archer girl was left speechless.

“Parents?”