In the Royal Court, minsters were bickering from every corner. Hani rolled her eyes at the old men, with long beards, wearing tall black hats, with their bellies hanging from the belts of their silk robes. From the corner of her eye she witnessed Luhan visibly pale with each argument and Xiuhan looked like he was close to crying.

“How much do we know about this ‘Fated One?’”

 

“How can we trust what the Oracle sees?”

Hani wanted to retort but Yifan squeezed her shoulder commanding silence. She bit her tongue and wished Luhan would say something. It seemed to her that she wasn’t the only cause of their grievance. They were after something else.

“It is preposterous to leave the Crown Prince in such hands?”

“For shame! The Emperor would cry if he were here with us!”

“Any foolish child could be called the ‘Fated One!’”

“She could be harmful, for she is an abnormal creature!”

That did it for Hani. She slapped the arm of her chair and stood up and before Yifan could react she shouted, “The only one abnormal here is you, old fart. You just don’t know when to shut up!”

There was a moment of shocked silence until the ‘old fart’ in question tried to spit out his reaction. Hani was riled and ready for a fight. She reckoned she would have won it, if Luhan hadn’t smacked his hand over . He leveled her gaze and shook his head mouthing ‘no.’

She was left flabbergasted and a little hurt because she believed they were on the same side. The Prince warned her silently before removing his hand. She pressed her lips into a firm line and scowled at him. He sent a signal to Yifan and before she knew it, she was being taken away.

Once Hani was gone Xiuhan decided that he’d also had enough. “Let’s do whatever uncle Youngmin wants. The Fated One will stay because the Starlight Temple trusts her. End of council.” He hopped off his seat feeling dizzy. It didn’t take long for Luhan to pick him up. Quietly, he tied his arms around him and pretended to sleep against his shoulder. In truth he was afraid of his own decision, and whether he’d pleased his brother and the ministers of the court.

Luhan climbed down the steps, his eyes never leaving Minister Youngmin until the bloated male was right in front of him. He felt Xiuhan quiver as if the boy knew what he was thinking.

Youngmin gave him a wide smile, and revealed all his teeth looking as friendly as an alligator. “Your Highness, it seems you have an awful lot on your plate.”

“What are you scheming?” Luhan interrogated. The man was not one to simply give up. He always did his best to get his way.

The smile vanished. “’The Fated One’ is preposterous. I did not think you of all people would fall for her nonsense!”

Luhan felt Xiuhan’s fists bunch a handful of his robe. He patted the boys back and replied, “She comes from another world and is not accustomed to our ways, but she is a kind spirit who will save the nation.”

-

Outside the Starlight Temple a protest was ensuring. Upon their palanquins sat the officials of the Royal Court. They raised their voices and their fists in a cry against the shamans. Their agreement resonated around the temple. The shamans were aghast to hear that the temple was 'plotting something evil' by placing the Crown Prince in the hands of a random person.

The scene was out of place and a certain spectator laughed from the hedges. He the stallion at his side as a battering ram came into view. “Looks like things are getting serious eh, Pompom?”

He watched the head shaman burst through the doors with her arms held wide protectively. “You mustn’t disturb the temple. It is the property of the Royal Family!”

Zitao would have enjoyed the view had someone not interrupted him. “Oi you, when are ya givin’ back da money?” A moneylender queried swinging his club menacingly at Zitao who treaded backwards with his hands held up in defeat.

He clicked his tongue, as more moneylenders came to join their leader waving their weapons wildly, and gave the horse a pitiful look. “Do you think your master will mind if you get a haircut?”

The horse didn’t say anything as Zitao hopped onto its back and sent it racing blindly. For the rider, it was exhilarating to speed through a bunch of old coots. Their reactions were quick. They’d jumped off their seats as he galloped between the entourage sending the servants who’d been carrying them running too.

“Sorry,” Zitao proclaimed, not really meaning it, as a string of sinister thugs chased after him demanding their money back.

The outburst of hooves and shoes left behind a mess of broken and tattered palanquins. The officials stared at each other, disgusted and horrified. They brushed their robes complaining about 'civility' and berated their servants for running away.

The head shaman sighed not needing a vision to tell her that the ministers had had enough adventure for one day. She traced her footsteps back into the gates and ordered for them to be shut.

Park Junghwa leaned against a pillar and gagged earning a stern look from the elder. Shaking, she stood upright and bowed, clenching her jaw in hopes of compressing a headache. The act was torment because blocking visions had always been a losing battle for her.

She sank to her knees and hid her face in her hands splaying her dress around her. The same vision flashed before her until she felt drenched, and drowned in blood. It was too vague to put a definition to it.

The moon was bleeding; the sun was weeping; the sky rained blood to the lands sweeping everything, destroying everything; and then the vision of visions blinded her. Heo Solji’s voice rang clearly through a ritual that cracked open a portal. The world began to resurrect itself. The moon and sun aligned harmoniously. And that was it. The kingdom resurfaced.

Junghwa gulped as beads of sweat ran down her neck. She tried to squeeze her head in order to stop the influx of flash images from repeating constantly but it didn’t work. With the last ounce of her consciousness, she screamed.

-

Zitao scratched his chin and stared at the horse. Yixing would not be pleased to find out that he’d used Pompom’s precious hair to pay off his debts. The horse was in need of a trim, according to Zitao.

Galloping past the temple, he saw bits of splintering wood. It was clear that the ministers would give Luhan a hard time. Yifan would feel the heat too and Yixing would be too preoccupied to think about Pompom’s grooming.

He trotted through the woods and stopped short around where the so-called Fated One had arrived. Scorched earth were the only remains left behind. He imagined something wild had occurred in the form of raving, flailing, shaman in ridiculous attire singing chats that were of another tongue around a large bonfire and maybe a sacrificed boar.

It was uncultured to witness such an event but Zitao faintly recalled being at one. He couldn’t remember why because he’d been too young.

He tur