Lightning cracked, and thunder rolled across the hills as the rain fell in blinding sheets. All that could be heard among them was the sound of rattling wagons, and retreating men on horses.
Wagons filled to the brim with grain, wool, and weapons, were draped with cloth, and the men urged the horses onwards. All except one, which entered with a clicking trot.
The man scanned his eyes for one face in particular, until they finally landed on them. His horse came to a slow halt, and he mounted off, his boots crushing the mud and wet grass beneath him.
"Commander An, I've come to deliver a message from the head Clan." The scout approached him.
As An Rou was hauling a heavy crate onto a wagon, he heard the voice, but only looked up for a second before continuing to move.
He grunted. "Such a message can wait." The wagon shook as he placed the hefty mass onto the wagon.
The scout stepped forward hesitantly, and he thought for a moment before helplessly opening his mouth again.
"Sir, it's about your father. I'm afraid he's…"
The scout's words were lost against the thunder that rolled overhead. An Rou's movements stopped, and he turned around slowly. He seemed frozen, fixed to his spot. With every cracking boom of light that flashed throughout the sky, his eyes became heavy and dull.
An Ruo's head dropped, and his gaze fixated on his feet. Trickles of rain fell gently like melting ice down his numb face.
The rain… it had never felt so cold before.
…
The moon hung low that night, and the rain never seemed to stop.
Outside in the dark, An Rou's jaw clenched as he walked closer toward the faintly lit tent. His ears filled with the sharp ringing of silence and rain, and it was only when he approached the entrance, that he heard hushed sobs.
Opening the tent's flaps, An Ruo entered. All eyes turned to him, but he never noticed them. His eyes landed on the figure at the end.
Clan members wept in each corner. An Rou only stood with vacant eyes at the entrance. His mouth shifted in a line, eyes darkening against the body that lay there, lifeless. The sound of rain resounded in his ears again as his mind wandered.
The eldest clan member's steps were steady as he walked beside An Rou with caution. He eyed his line of sight, keen on An Hongyu.
"Your father was found in his room. He had been drinking copiously that night…" An Rou nodded discreetly. His father always struggled with drinking; to die of his insatiable habit would be no surprise to him.
An Ruo's head lifted. "Where is his will?" His voice spoke no longer in a piteous whisper.
Everyone's weeps grew muffled. They all exchanged uneasy looks.
"That…" The clan elder hesitated.
"Bring it to me." An Ruo commanded mildly.
"…Yes." The old man sighed and lowered his head.
He left the tent and quickly returned with a scroll in his hand. An Hongyu's will.
"Read it," An Ruo said.
Nodding his head, the clan elder held the scroll above to read.
"I shall read the head An's will." He announced, his frail but clear voice resounding within the tent. "As the end draws near, I leave behind this edict…and herby concede my throne. The Third Head of the An Clan shall be…"
"An Ruo."
…
It was dark within the room, but at least the sound of the thunder was muffled by the thickness of the wall. A servant entered with an oil lamp to light the fire, but An Ruo sent him away and kept the lamp on the desk. He took off his armor and placed it on the table before him.
Looking down at the floor, his eyes were vacant.
"He's really gone, isn't he?" His low voice echoed throughout the empty room. It felt void suddenly as he sat there, his eyes disregarding the quiet presence behind him.
An Rou looked carefully at his hands, roughened to his fingertips, often raw and aching from overuse. He felt something unfamiliar swell in his chest. "All I did was work behind him, wondering when I would be able to step forward…to make something of myself."
He heard the light footsteps behind him inch closer in the silence. "I'm where I wanted to be; in exchange for my own father's death…" An Ruo's voice rattled as the words left his throat. He buried his face in his hands and did not speak.
The pale man only stood listening - quietly watching him ponder. His gaze wandered to the flickering, amber flame as if to read its depths. Its light dancing within the emerald hue of his eyes.
"If I may, Master Rou, I must inquire." His eyes averted from the flame.
An Ruo turned to look at him, his gaze intent. The pale man lowered his eyes quietly. His face was in a shadow, the hair falling around his eyes. Suddenly, An Ruo reached out and pinched his chin, lifting his gaze.
"Say it, Shen. What is it?" An Ruo's thumb pressed into the man's pale and delicate skin.
Nodding his head gently, Shen lifted his gaze and parted his soft lips to speak, "In truth, I do not think it is too soon. I do not believe the sudden-nature of this position's arrival changes your ability to rule. I think...I believe you have been ready since the beginning."
An Rou's lips pursed in a thin line. Suddenly, a pair of white fingertips clasped around his hand holding the young man's chin. They felt cold.
"So, why have you begun to doubt yourself?" Shen asked softly, a few blonde hairs slipped forward to hang over his eyes.
Staring down at the pale man before him, An Ruo fell silent for a moment. Shen's eyes were green and brown as forest, and even in the dim light, An Ruo could see the gold.
He looked down a moment at where their hands joined. Then his hand ripped itself from Shen's and blurred past so swiftly one could not follow it. He turned, his back faced toward the window.
"Leave. I want to be alone." An Ruo said.
Shen quietly nodded his head. "Yes…Master Ruo."
Behind him, An Ruo could hardly hear the man leave, had it not been for the sound of a door opening and closing with a creak. Standing quiet for a moment, he looked over his shoulder.
Shen was gone.
An Ruo lifted his hand. Clenching it into a tight fist, he braced both hands on the desk, shutting his eyes tight.
…
When dawn came, An Hongyu's funeral began. Clan members and soldiers stood in scattered bunches, their eyes still against the burning flames amongst the wood pyre.
The smoke curled against the gentle winds of morning, their eyes stung from the blowing heat.
An Rou's tensed hands behind his back fell beside him, and he spared a final glimpse of the fire that crackled in his ears.
He turned his feet against the ashy floor, casting a glance to the people that stood behind him. "Gather around the main tent."
Footsteps grazed the ragged floor, arms brushing against the opening of the tent. An Rou stood with a still gaze, his voice firm as it drew in the ears of others.
"Your ruler is gone, but I am going to keep us moving forward as the successor of my father."
The men's faces held a sense of optimism as they listened to him speak. They did not doubt An Rou would bring them where they needed to be, despite the clear achievements of their previous ruler, An Hongyu.
An Ruo's hands braced on the wood of the short table. His eyes rose, "We're going to attack the Western Empire at full force. Our last battle was merciful, to say the least."
A sudden sneer spread across his lips. He licked at his bottom lip and cocked his head faintly.
"But they still have something that I want. Something I will fight them for continuously if I have to." His voice was smooth to one's ears, but it held a familiar sinister intent.
Shen stood in the corner, his presence distant as he listened to his master's words. A cold smile on his face.