"Mama…?"

The little princess clutched her doll to her chest, unable to comprehend the horrific scene before her.

For as long as she could remember, red had been her favorite color. It was the color of sweet dragonfruit, of the lanterns that lined the streets during the midsummer festival. Of her mother's beautiful court robes and warm, rosy cheeks.

And now, there was red. Red, everywhere. Red in the fires lapping at the midnight sky, red in the foreign banners dancing above the palace gates. Red upon her eldest brother's blade, dripping with their mother's blood...

"Mama!"

She shrieked, her eyes fixed on the empress's unmoving form. The princess had a vague understanding of death – her tutor said that all living things died when their time had come. But mama… it wasn't mama's time yet! It couldn't be!

There was the rasping of metal as the prince sheathed his sword.

"The emperor and his dynasty are ended... I can now claim the throne that I was promised."

Much of the tension lifted from his body, and he looked up triumphantly at the clouds of rising smoke.

"The throne that was stolen from me."

The soldiers standing behind him lowered their heads, and their strange chainmail masks jingled as they bowed. One of them began to speak, his words thick with a throaty accent that the princess had never heard before.

"My Emperor. We are honored… to see this victory. May the night sky shine upon you, and the gods bless your name."

The prince smiled.

"Rise. Save the formalities for another day. Let us revel in this victory together, for it was not mine alone."

The princess whimpered. Blood continued to seep from her mother's wound, and it gathered in a grisly pool at her brother's feet. This had to be a dream! It had to be! When news arrived that her own brother had started a violent uprising in the west, she had refused to believe it was true. He was her sweet eldest brother, and he'd always doted on her. But now...

Shock, confusion, despair – they welled within her, overflowing, clouding her vision and staining her cheeks.

"What about the girl?"

Her brother faced her, and their eyes met. For a moment, neither of them moved, and only the crackling of the flames persevered through the silence. The princess tried to say something, to reach out to him, hoping for a few comforting words. But she couldn't. Her voice was caught in her throat. She could find no warmth in her brother's visage, for there was nothing but cold resolve.

"Mei…" he whispered.

The crackling of fires and the clashing of swords from beyond the palace walls hung in the air.

He turned away, but not before the princess caught a glimpse of sorrow in his gaze. But like the sheltered life she had enjoyed up to that day, it vanished, burnt away by the fire reflected in the prince's eyes.

"Kill her."