The first thing I felt as I awoke were the dozens of burns and bruises all across my body. One leg hurt badly—it was almost definitely broken. As my wits returned, more details of the environment became clear. Beneath me was a bed; less of a bed and more of a matt cushioned with pillows and blankets. And on top of me, tucked under one of the blankets, was a tiny, quivering lump.

  When I wrested my eyes open again I confirmed that the lump was Crim. And that Crim was now much, much smaller than I remembered: a sooty-grey ball of fluff instead of a swanlike bird with brilliant red plumage. Crim cheeped at me and, with hands I could barely feel, I gently petted the bird. A number of jumbled, disorganized memories returned to me at the moment, tears stinging at the corners of my eyes.

  My stomach dropped. I was alive.

  I was alive, and Alunelaine was not. Not only had I killed a dragon but I had killed a dragon and survived. Nania had told me the tale of Orioselaine and the lovers, Onaiga and Reane, once. But Orioselaine had not been killed at the end of that tragic tale. I’d grown up, too, on tales of brave warriors giving their lives to keep dragons and the Fiend away from innocent villages, or in an attempt to avenge their loved ones. Always the lesson had been that it was better to die trying than never try at all.

  But their story was not mine. In my story, somehow, I lived. Could I…could I even survive Ruuthelaine too?

  I had wanted to create a better world, absent of her. But I couldn’t imagine such a world when I was younger. Elian and Nania I could imagine being happy in a peaceful world of abundance, they seemed to belong to such a world anyways. But me, who’d practically been raised by anger and battlefields? How was I ever supposed to learn to move on?

  How could I ever live in peace when it felt like, after losing Asha, my heart could never be at peace? When it felt like I wasn’t allowed to be at peace? The best use of my life must be to sacrifice it, to use it to carve out a better life for others. It would be the best for everyone, wouldn’t it? When Zaya suggested trying to heal when the Sun Fiend was still out there, still aggravating everyone’s wounds, it had felt like a cruel joke or a dismissal of my abilities.

  But…if I had slain a dragon, maybe it was possible to not feel like this forever, either.

  It stung like an old scar had reopened, and tears began to spill from my eyes. Was it Asha I was crying for, or Kite, or Alunelaine, or my friendship with Elian and Nania, or myself, or everything I could’ve had or lost? It didn’t seem to matter. For once, I wasn’t burying my emotions under a layer of rage. Everything was felt keenly, every splinter and cut. But it wasn’t embarrassing or humiliating…everything felt lighter. As much as I could, I turned over on the matt and screamed into my pillow, feeling it grow wet beneath my face.

  A presence entered the room. The boy—so he had escaped too, after all. That’s good. I had forgotten to worry about him in the chaos.

  “Mr. Dragonslayer, what’s—” he gasped at my present state, “A-are you okay? Are you hurt somewhere? We can call back the village doctor, she said you should be okay, but—”

  I shook my head. My throat was too clogged with emotion, but I wasn’t hurt. Strangely, it felt better than I’d felt in years.

  Apparently, I had been asleep for some time while recovering after my ordeal. While I had been resting the tiny village had been incredibly busy. The first earthquake had alarmed the Foreman so much he had actually returned to the Yín Kingdom’s capital to bring back a larger contingent of guards, laborers, and officials to assess the situation, in case I failed to return. Imagine his surprise when he found that, after a series of particularly bad and destructive earthquakes, some of the villagers had managed to stumble across the corpse of a dead dragon—and the person who had killed it was still alive, within its mouth.

  Fortunately, the tremor that had sealed me underground had also startled most of the villagers into beginning a cautious evacuation, and so while there was much destruction, any deaths could be counted on one hand. But with the newly-arrived group that accompanied the returning Foreman, rebuilding, as well as dragging the dragon’s corpse from where it was unearthed and beginning to strip it of valuable materials, was a much simpler matter than it would have been otherwise.

  People had adjusted rather well to what could have become a very traumatic event for the village. Or perhaps this busyness had just distracted the village from its losses. The old entrance to the mine had collapsed entirely, but villagers didn’t seem to think of this as a bad thing, as the dragon’s corpse would make them even richer than it ever had. I couldn’t blame them—that mine was a place of horrors and I was happy to see it gone.

  After Crim and I were retrieved from the dragon’s corpse, the mother of the boy I’d been stuck with in the mines looked after us, as we recovered. The boy’s name was Lǐ Jiāyí, I finally bothered to learn, while his mother was Lǐ Wànlín. They hadn’t yet found Wànlín’s husband in the collapsed mine. Like the rest of the village she and her son were taking the news surprisingly well. Lǐ Wànlín just seemed relieved that her son had been found and was even a bit overbearing towards him, he confessed to me. I tried my best not to feel bitter.

  Word quickly got around once I woke up. Apparently the village seemed to consider me a hero of some kind, and many were thankful that I had slain the dragon and brought them this great fortune. Having to deal with that many people so soon after my fight was too exhausting to even think about, and many of my wounds had yet to fully heal. The only one I agreed to speak with was the Foreman.

  He was breathless, grateful, and perhaps a little frightened. Clearly he had heard the rumor I was some sort of Prince character or whatever, traveling in disguise. I had no patience for his attempts to flatter me, and was on the verge of dismissing him even when he tried inviting me back to the Capital. However, I realized that the capital of the Yín Kingdom also contained the largest library I knew of, and might contain even more useful knowledge about the Sun Fiend. Offers to give me better weaponry and armor made from Alunelaine’s corpse didn’t hurt either.

  “Yes, I’ll go and meet your King,” I told him as soon as I could get a word in. Even then, I had to tolerate several more minutes of his blather before he finally left.

  It wasn’t long at all before I had to bid goodbye to Wànlín and Jiāyí. Jiāyí, to my surprise, had actually grown fairly attached to me, and while I was recovering had snuck into my room to give me updates on the outside world many times.

  When Wànlín heard that the imperial family had taken an interest in me she began to fuss over me and insisted on helping me clean up my clothes and fix my hair, almost as if I were one of her sons, instead of the reason her husband would never return home. While I allowed her to gift me new clothes, I refused to allow her to touch my hair. It was improper for someone like her, who wasn’t family, to do so. The only reason I used to allow Nania to do so was that she and Elian seemed to understand the importance of that rule—apparently Gresha had a similar tradition—but even as nice as Wànlín had been, giving her that permission felt…violating. She didn’t press the issue, which I appreciated, and kindly sent me off, together with her son.

  The two had really been kinder to me than I would have expected.

  I was sent back to the Yín Kingdom’s capital city with one of the shipments of scale as soon as my leg had healed enough for me to be moved. Every bump in the road jarred my bruises and leg, so it was a lengthy and painful ride. Some of the people escorting the scales and I tried striking up conversation, to ask me what fighting a dragon had been like. I wasn’t as willing to indulge in storytelling for them as I had been for Jiāyí.

  Despite the discomfort, I enjoyed the trip up into the mountains and towards the capital. After my time down in the mines, the air tasted fresher than ever. The wind brushed against my skin, causing Nania’s ribbon to flutter freely in the breeze with my hair. Even the rough grain of the transport wagon against my skin started feeling stimulating rather than irritating. Did that say something pitiful about the level of comfort I was used to?

  It felt like the first time I had really lived in a very long time. Crim was chirping freely too, perched happily on the wagon’s edge. Despite his diminished appearance, he drew more than a few awestruck glances from the escort. Actually, he had been positively pampered this whole trip, often petted or fed treats by the accompanying guards and craftsmen.

  “Well, little wonder he won against the dragon. He has a phoenix as a companion,” one of the men had muttered.

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  “The rumors must be correct,” another agreed.

  I wasn’t interested enough in conversation to correct these assumptions so I just allowed them to talk, gazing over the wagon’s side at the view as day by day we ascended up into the mountains. From this high up I could see the ricefields and tributaries sprawl outwards, and the Ter itself wound and coiled its way towards the southern sea like a great, broad serpent. Somehow, I’d crossed all that land to reach here.

  Gresha City was somewhere southward, but I couldn’t see it even from this height. I had grown up beneath a sprawling blue sky on an endless open plain, but only now did I realize how vast the world was.

  About three weeks after we had set out we arrived at the capital of the Yín Kingdom, high in the mountains. Word had spread ahead of us and citizens crowded street corners, craning to glimpse the man, the hero, who had apparently felled a dragon completely alone. This was the first herald that the restful reprieve I’d been experiencing since my victory against Alunelaine was about to come to a close. But that didn’t quite sink in until we arrived at the palace, and the shipment of Alunelaine’s remains and I went our separate ways. I bid the lump of scale and tooth my own silent farewell. Soon we’d be reunited, and achieve our mutual goal together.

  For my part, Crim and I needed to be made ‘presentable’ before we could appear before the King. Apparently this meant being bathed, dressed, and having my hair combed. Unlike Lǐ Wànlín, who I could convince to back off easily enough, these attendants descended on me like ravenous black crows, hungry for gossip and other things.

  “So you are the Drake-Slayer, Talon?” one of them crooned. “What do they feed you where you’re from? You’re so skinny!”

  “I thought he was rather well-formed—do you have someone waiting for you at home, dear?” another asked.

  To that I only scowled, and hissed out, “Yes,” as viciously as I could get away with. The attendant who had asked froze up as her companions tittered and laughed at her, then she slumped over, deflated.

  “Aw, why are all the good ones always taken?”

  “Frankly, I’d be more surprised if this one weren’t taken, look at him!”

  “Never you mind him, who’s this?” one attendant shrieked, and suddenly most of the attendants were cooing and fawning over Crim, who still appreciated the attention a lot more than I did. I sighed while the girls were distracted by the bird. If the courts were as exhausting as them, then I held no envy for whatever Elian and Nania must be dealing with.

  Suddenly a thought struck me that someone like that petty and childish King might pressure Nania in a way like this. From what I gathered, she wasn’t attractive by Greshan standards. But she was intelligent, passionate, and curious. Anyone with taste should desire her. An uncharacteristic surge of irritation and protectiveness welled up in me—until I reminded myself that she was fully capable of defending herself now thanks to my lessons. That wave of protectiveness was replaced by a warm glow of pride as I absently wound her ribbon around my fingers.

  A soft voice cleared their throat, drawing back my attention to the present. One of the attendants who hadn’t been hypnotized by a certain spoiled phoenix was staring at me. “If Sir Dragonslayer would like to disrobe, that we may attend to him and wash his hair?”

  I briefly shut my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. As uncomfortable as I was with the thought of all these strange women touching me, there were probably bizarre and strange rituals I had to follow to meet the King, or something of the sort. I may as well feel out which of those rituals were necessary and which were just to make a guest feel ‘welcomed’. “I would find it more comfortable to bathe myself,” I ground out, trying to keep my irritation in check.

  The girl frowned. She was younger than the other attendants by a few years with a neutral expression that reminded me a little of Hallow Zaya. I snorted at the comparison. “I’m afraid that is not possible, Sir Dragonslayer. Emperor Jiànguó would like to be blessed by your presence, but fears your state may cause you embarrassment in his court. And so he sent us to assist you with cleaning yourself, and properly dressing yourself in clothes that fit. It’s also requested that you are ritualistically cleansed, so that the dragon’s residual malevolence does not cling to your soul and poison you, or Emperor Jiànguó.”

  Annoyance pricked, but I stifled it down and focused on the purpose these attendants had been sent for. Was there a sort of compromise I could make? “I’ll allow for one person to attend to help me while bathing, under my strict supervision,” I finally decided. This may be unavoidable, but I’d rather not be gazed at like a piece of meat throughout the process. “And however many attendants you think are appropriate may help me dress.” A moment later, I remembered to add a “Thank you.”

  The younger attendant bowed slightly. “As Sir Dragonslayer requests.”

  The Heishanese style of dress was something I found uncomfortable, to say the least. Though the fabric was the most luxurious clothing I’d ever worn and was soft as clouds to the touch, it was also so voluminous I was drowning in it. I was used to loose pants that gave me freedom of movement when running and fighting. Now, if I didn’t want to trip, I would need to move carefully and deliberately. There would be no fighting in the Emperor’s court—I hoped—but it was still uncomfortable.

  Crim, meanwhile, was positively strutting puffing out his little chest and keeping his head high. His sootstained downy feathers had been washed and dried until they puffed out, a tiny golden ribbon tied around his now much-smaller neck. The chick stood with incredible pride, strutting in front of me. “At least someone’s enjoying this,” I grumbled as I heard Crim purr in a manner that sounded uncomfortably like laughter.

  I swear, the intelligence of that bird is disturbing…

  I waited impatiently for the herald to finish announcing my presence to the court, slowly becoming aware of how hot these layered robes could be. They would never do in the tropic climate around Gresha. Once I had been introduced as ‘Phoenix-Hero and Dragonslayer’ I strode in, and my patience was immediately tested.

  “Ahaha! Here’s the little thief!” a booming voice greeted, and a strong pair of arms suddenly grabbed me around the shoulders. Reacting off pure instinct I smacked this person away, only remembering later that I probably shouldn’t attack members of the court. To my fortune, this person didn’t seem all that offended—to my immense and immediate regret, they just squeezed me even tighter.

  “What a pleasure to meet you at last, my brother in arms!” said the voice. In the corner of my vision I glimpsed a muscular, dark-haired man, much taller than me. “You may call me Fèng Yǒngruì—I am actually a distant descendant of the Prince who assisted the Sun Falcon in driving away the Nine Dragons. By helping finish the job, this makes us practically family! Oh, we simply must have a duel sometime in the future—and of course, I invite you into my home with open arms! Ah, this court has been so dull, it is such a delight to meet you—”

  I am going to kick his teeth in, I thought as my sense of sadistic glee reawakened.

  A cough from the other side of the room interrupted this over-excitable bear of a man. “Cousin Yǒngruì, I believe you’re choking the poor man to death,” said a voice audibly holding back a chuckle. The giant released me with an awkward laugh of his own, stepping back, and I got a chance to observe the man on the other side of the room. From his throne and his gilded robes, I assumed he was the king—or rather, Emperor—here. What was the difference between a King and an Emperor, anyways? Certainly, this person did not look very different from any ordinary man. He was slim, middle-aged, with dark almond eyes and raven-black hair, not so different from mine. A gentle smile graced his mouth, but after having met Gresha’s kings, I was determined to distrust this man.

  “Greetings,” he said, “I am Emperor Wáng Jiànguó of the Yín Kingdom.”

  “Then should you not be a King, rather than an Emperor?” I asked.

  Apparently I said something wrong, as I heard many of those in attendance stop breathing. It didn’t seem to kill Yǒngruì’s enthusiasm at all. Shame.

  The Emperor allowed himself a brief laugh, and the atmosphere relaxed. . “I suppose. But considering that we possess heroic lines from the old Great Heishanese Empire like Cousin Yǒngruì’s, we considered ourselves a more proper successor to the old Empire than any of the other modern Kingdoms we compete with. Someday, they will come around to see that.”

  He gestured at Fèng Yǒngruì. “Well, I would introduce you to my distant Cousin, but I fear any introduction I could make would pale in comparison to the one you have received. And my other cousin, Jiàn Wenyan, is busy attending other matters. Regardless, this is my humble court—we thank you for your great service, and bid you welcome.”

  The man paused, as if waiting for something from me now. Belatedly, I remembered I was supposed to bow. Despite my irritation I swallowed my pride and did so. Crim awkwardly imitated me.

  “So it is true, you do have a phoenix,” Wáng Jiànguó said. “You know, it’s said that there are two breeds of phoenix—the vermillion phoenixes made by the Sun Fiend, and the cerulean phoenixes created by Crown Naruune.”

  “I did not know there was a cerulean breed,” I admitted truthfully. “But this one is not as impressive once you get to know him. Crim doesn’t follow me around because I’m a chosen hero, he follows me around because I feed him.”

  This time, Wáng Jiànguó made no attempt to hold back his laughter. He laughed, long, loud, and boisterous. “May we all be so lucky as to find companions with such simple pleasures,” he said, wiping a tear from his eye. “Regardless, here, a phoenix regardless of plumage draws much attention. I believe Cousin Yǒngruì is attended by one as well. One might say your coming to my court was preordained, so long as this bird was your companion.”

  “...Sure,” I said. Some might believe in fate, but I thought of those types as fools and simpletons. To passively allow the gods above to determine the shape of your life was laziness and cowardice. If I allowed such a thing to happen, I’d never be able to fight Ruuthelaine like I wished I could.

  …Still. I’d never had the favor of a king like this before, either. Hallow Zaya hadn’t known what the Fiend’s weaknesses were, and I could not parse Alunelaine’s knowledge easily. But perhaps some useful tidbit or another had still managed to survive in the legends of these people—even if compared to the Angra, their storytelling was biased and wrong.

  “Perhaps it was ‘fate,’ ” I said. “I appreciate you opening your doors to me, and hope we can become…friends.” The word still left a slightly bitter taste in my mouth.

  Wáng Jiànguó didn’t seem to notice my hesitation, and simply continued to smile. “Of course,” he said. “Welcome to the Yín Kingdom, Dragonslayer Talon, Chosen of the Phoenix Crim.”