Do not pay attention to the names a man gives himself. Pay attention to what his followers call him. Titles give you an insight to their truths. -Lunar Prince Tsuyuki Yoru before his fall to darkness.

  “You’re getting it!” Lin offered encouragingly. However, it could not have been farther from the truth.

  After everything we’d been through, everything we’d done together, never before had Lin and Xinya betrayed me more than they did after I returned from the Blushing Rose Sect. That day, they snuck out and left me to entertain Satoro on my own. That wouldn’t have been half as bad if it weren’t for the matter they discussed out of earshot.

  Several weeks later, as our plans for the district were well underway, they lured me to the Forgotten House under the pretenses of checking on their defense array. I believed them, foolishly. After all, why would anyone seek my assistance with array work of any kind. My arrays were always an affront to cultivation, and my sect elders wouldn’t admit that they’d ever taught me talismans any more than they would admit to teaching me swordplay. Yet, I still fell for their carefully woven trap.

  While inspecting the array near the river’s edge, I’d almost finished confirming that nothing was wrong when Lin heartlessly shoved me into the river.

  “We’re teaching you to swim!” they said. “It’ll be fun!” they said.

  It was anything but. Normal people would struggle to swim with twenty feet of chain dragging at their limbs. Thanks to my complete inexperience with actually surviving in the water, I was immediately dragged under, and Lin was forced to jump in to rescue me.

  Ever since, he and Xinya had dragged me back to the riverbank at the Forgotten House every time we got a small break from the critical work we were doing in the twenty-first district. I would flail in the water some, trying my best to keep my head above water while my chains tried to pull me into the murky depths, all while Lin did his very best to teach me. Most days, this only resulted in more flailing, so when he claimed that I was “getting it,” I did not believe him in the slightest.

  “You’re keeping up without my help for longer,” Lin praised as he swam around me.

  Xinya snorted. “He still looks like a drowning cat.”

  Most days, she joined us in the water, swimming circles around me as if there was nothing that made her happier than proving she was better than me at something. However, today she’d decided to watch from the sideline. She sat on the wall above, her feet dangling off the side while she munched on several sticks of dango.

  With her, was the blurred shape of the Moon Guard. The more I saw of him, the more I noticed just how much of Hua Zhen still lived on in the ancient shade. Every so often, I’d catch a glimpse of his soft brown hair trailing down his back or heard traces of his laugh when he joined Xinya in mocking my swimming skills, something which the original Hua Zhen definitely would have found entertaining.

  “I’ve met cats who are quite proficient swimmers,” the Moon Guard whispered. “This might be an insult to them.”

  “Hilarious,” I snapped back. “You try…swimming…with chains dragging you-”

  I was cut off as the chains suddenly increased their weight tenfold. My head dipped beneath the surface, but I wasn’t in danger for long. Lin’s arms hooked beneath mine and he pulled me gently back to the surface where I gasped for air.

  “Easy, easy,” he said with a laugh. “You’re alright!”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be some magnificent Silver artist?” Xinya asked. “You’re advancement is enough that a little metal should be child’s play for you.”

  “I swear they get heavier when I swim,” I shot back.

  Lin’s shoulders shook behind me. “I’m still not convinced that it’s not in your head. They seem the same weight as always.”

  “Trust me, I’m an expert.”

  “Well, then, mister expert, swim to the stairs by yourself, and I’ll say that you can be done for today,” he said, letting me go.

  I tried my best not to pout. This whole campaign of theirs to teach me to swim was ridiculous.

  “Remind me why I need to learn this, again?” I grumbled.

  “Because it’s a life skill,” Lin answered, just as he’d done every other time I’d asked.

  “But when am I going to need this! I’ll always have Eclipse! I can just fly over the water!”

  “Tide Serpent battle,” he said dryly. “Shouweiye.”

  “Knowing how to swim wouldn’t have saved me with the Tide Serpent.”

  “My ability to swim saved us both.”

  “And I never hit the water when we fought Shouweiye!”

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  “Because I cut its wing off before you fell in.”

  I scowled at the Wood artist. This was not the first time we’d held this particular conversation, nor would it be the last. We both knew it. With a sigh, I conceded the argument.

  With effort, I paddled slowly forward. Inch by inch I crept closer until my feet hit the smooth stone steps that were my escape from the watery hell my supposed “friends” had dragged me into. My chains rattled against those stairs as I pulled myself from the water.

  “Towel?” Xinya offered.

  I accepted it and dried my hair. Once I was dry, I let my qi flow. My clothes wove themselves into place, just as Chiho arrived back to fix up my hair. Within a few minutes, it was as if the whole experience never happened at all.

  Xinya offered me a branch from her waist sash, and I took it and slipped it into my own. It was a small sprig from a bush similar to a mulberry plant in Ishida’s garden. The moment I slipped it into my belt, the moths resting on Xinya’s shoulders flocked to me, settling in my hair, my clothes, and on my shoulders.

  “You really were doing well,” Lin said as he squeezed the water from his long hair. I refused to acknowledge him, turning away until he’d covered up his well-toned chest with a set of robes. “Thank you for the space, Captain,” he said to the Moon Guard with a respectful bow.

  “Anything for those we owe so much,” answered the shade. “And, the entertainment is always welcome. Being dead can be dreadfully boring at times.”

  I’m glad someone enjoyed it, I thought bitterly.

  “Shall we actually do our jobs, now that we’re done splashing about in the water?” I asked.

  Lin shook his head in exasperation. “Fine, fine, let’s go.”

  With final farewells to the Moon Guard, we began picking our way through the bustling district to the border. Things were notably better. The merchants and shopkeepers were happier, and most of their faces didn’t look quite so gaunt. The first few harvests of qi-infused rice were going a long way towards removing the influence of the Shattered Moon Sect from the district.

  The civilians weren’t so easily cowed by Shattered Moon’s extortion crews. The Chikara, the Forgotten, and the handful of smaller factions that lived in the district had spread the net wide, making sure that no shop was far from help if it was needed. Between that and the fact that the Shattered Moon Sect’s numbers were down thanks to the quiet efforts of the Blushing Rose Sect, several merchants had approached us saying that things finally felt safe in the Fourteenth again.

  I admired the community of yokai. Never had I imagined that a bit of rice would do such wonders for bringing people together. I didn’t dare to hope that an oni and a shade would stand at either side of the Void veil, chatting amicably while on guard duty, but there they were.

  Both the shade and the oni snapped to attention when Lin, Xinya, and I approached.

  “Moon Moth, sir!” said the oni using my rather ridiculous moniker. “Thank you for your continued service to our homes, sir!”

  I smiled. They did this every time, no matter who was on watch. “I keep telling you, it’s nothing. I want to eat just like everyone else. What is there to report?”

  “Three attempts were made overnight,” the shade reported. “None succeeded.”

  “Good. Pass my thanks to the night shift, please.”

  “Yes, Moon Moth.” Both the shade and the oni saluted sharply before Lin and I passed through the veil.

  On the other side, a small trail of mis-matched flags carved a path through the darkness. Once others had heard of our adventures into Half-Moon Manor, various families in the Fourteenth had donated ward flags of their own. Though they weren’t even half as potent as Jinshi’s, they allowed us to create a small path, thus expanding the fields within. The farms beyond the barrier quickly became known as the Starlight Path thanks to the shimmering flags that shone like stars in the black night beyond the armillary’s light.

  Men and women of a variety of species greeted us as we made our way down the Starlight Path. There, Ishida Sumiko and Di Xiaolong supervised the yokai who’d volunteered as farmers and guards. Twenty-seven rice paddies, each one carved from the earth by cultivators and infused with qi at every step of the way, were filled to bursting with new shoots of rice.

  “If we continue at this rate, we should have enough to feed everyone and begin stockpiling for emergencies within a few months,” Xiaolong reported to his guardian. He was quite the mathematician and clearly had the finest education that a thirteen-year-old could have, no doubt thanks to his draconic heritage. He looked up as we approached. “Oh! Master Moon Moth, sir!”

  “Not you, too, Xiaolong,” I said with a sigh. “I don’t know why everyone keeps giving me that silly title. Do I look like I have wings and feelers?”

  Ishida smirked. “You’re covered in enough moth scales that you may as well be.”

  I crossed my arms, but that only made Xinya and Xiaolong giggle even more. It didn’t help that I had over two dozen moths clinging to my person.

  “I’m starting to think that I have no friends in this city,” I said with a pout. “My own sworn brother pushes me into the river, while my favorite neighbors call me silly names! Maybe I should return to Half-Moon Manor for good. At least the Watchers are friendly.”

  “You’d get bored in a week,” Lin said.

  I hated that he was right. Rather than acknowledge it, though, I stalked away, letting my qi swirl and expand. The moths on my shoulders grew agitated before taking flight.

  The dust from their wings shimmered in the light as I directed them over the paddies. Ishida had worked tirelessly to adapt Chouko’s fertilizer into a feed for the moths. By feeding the larva with it, the moths that survived to adulthood were infused with the luck-enhancing properties of my voidlight. Their shed scales could then be used as a more efficient delivery system to enhance plant growth, thus allowing us to grow rice even in the void-filled darkness of the Twenty-first. All-in-all, it was an ingenious solution. Ishida really outdid herself.

  “You know, at this rate, we might actually be able to push the Shattered Moon Sect out of the district,” Lin mused as we walked the raised platforms between the paddies.

  “There’s still the branch leader,” I mused. “He could come out of seclusion any day now.”

  “He hit a block, or so the rumors suggest.”

  “I suppose that’s to our benefit.”

  Lin nodded in agreement. “How long does it take to reach Gold?” he asked. “We have the materials. Do you think we could get there before he does?”

  “Normally, a year, or so,” I said. “With my guidance, I bet we could do it in a few months. We have the materials, after all.”

  “Xinya could handle the moths while you and I take the leap,” he suggested.

  “Agreed. She’s more than capable enough to guide them.”

  “So, tell me more of Gold.”

  I smiled. It was nice to see him so enthusiastic to advance. It was such a shift from the necessity that drove him to Silver.

  “At Bronze, you created and condensed your core,” I began. “At Iron, you enhanced your meridians, and at Silver, you infused your body with qi. What’s still missing from the equation?”

  “The soul.”

  “Precisely. Prepare yourself, Lin,” I said. “Because we are about to enhance your cultivation. Your Path will purify your soul.”