The emperor had watched over Prince Qui's training one day from an open door. He looked crazy there, looking from a tiny slit when he was the one who owned the place.
Prince Qui was exercising his arm with the repeated slashing in the air. Same form over and over for the muscle memory. He felt something deeply disturbed inside of him when he saw the expression on his son's face.
He was about to tell his son to stop when there was a voice from behind him. "I think there's no point trying to stop what is inevitable."
The emperor did not have to look to know who it was. "I don't know, Nive. My son dying very young is not exactly at the top of my agenda."
"You should make your peace with it, Yong," said the man. "We both heard what the prophecies said. Your son is going to be the Greatest Warrior of All Time. Why don't you just give it to him? What if he does not really die young? We only assumed that part, anyway."
