In the scant light of the crescent moon, stood a dragon's lover. Restless nights were unusual for her, but the air in her bedroom—spacious though it were—felt like it was suffocating. Times like these called for a fresh cup of tea, which her handmaiden had prepared for her.
The woman approached the double doors that led to the balcony, her light blonde hair swaying behind her. The glass entry was caressed by scarlet drapery, which made the doorway look more like a large window than anything else. With a glance of her faintly glowing golden eyes, the doors swung open, and a refreshing breeze suffused the room, rustling the sheer fabric of her luxurious nightgown.
She held a fragrant cup of black tea in her hands, its steam coiling like snakes into the crisp winter air and disappearing with the soft wind. In her free hand were three crystalline white cubes, which she dropped into the hot liquid with a quiet, satisfied hum. The woman stood with her eyes to the stars, reflecting their endless mystery in the depths of her gaze. She absent-mindedly stirred the sugar cubes into her tea until it was well-mixed.
Her long, flaxen hair danced with the rhythmic breathing of the night, and a shadow of a smile graced her pointed features as she brought the teacup to her lips. When she took a sip and felt the warm liquid slide down her throat, a contented sigh left her. After several moments of contemplation and enjoying the feeling of the gentle embrace of the wind, she turned around and reopened the sliding doors. When she closed them behind her, she didn't notice the unrecognizable figure that inhabited a dark corner of her room.
A few steps back into the place that was supposed to be her safe haven, the pleasant feelings that had been swirling inside her disappeared instantly. She quickly realized what had happened, and her hands shot up to clutch her own throat. The porcelain slipped from her grasp and shattered on the floor with a loud crack that echoed against the stone walls.
The last labored breaths she took were filled with deep-seated fear. She didn't mourn her own impending death or fear what came after. Instead, she feared leaving behind her love. She feared his rage upon the world, and she feared the fates of their enemies. The guardians had reached a tenuous peace after an era of strife, and with this one event, the balance would shift in favor of chaos once again.
As her vision blurred and her legs gave way, she looked to the man who had been sleeping soundly in her bed. She wished she could reach for him, or yell out his name for one last time. She wished she could tell him not to retaliate in her honor, but her sight gave way to darkness, followed by a profound silence.
Roused by the commotion, the man's red eyes shot open just in time to see his wife limply land on top of the broken glass. The tea had spilled on the floor in a crescent arc, and her golden locks were splayed beside the shape. He rushed over to her and lifted her slight form into his arms, terror and the all-too-familiar ache of loss settling in his chest.
It only took one glance to understand it was too late to save her. The life had already left her eyes; the resplendent, loving sparkle completely diminished.
"No," he whispered desperately, his voice cracking with emotion—guilt, sorrow, and an undercurrent of a rising fury all at once.
The man, whose hair was a shocking crimson, looked around frantically in hopes of seeing the culprit, and though he didn't get a chance to see the individual's face, he managed to catch a glimpse of the strange emblem on the assassin's cloak. It was only for a split second. He didn't have time to process what he saw completely, let alone chase after the shadow that had disappeared back into the embrace and cover of night that awaited him outside.
He didn't have the proof, but he already knew who it was. There was only one man heartless enough— and with the capability—to kill his lover… and that man would definitely die by his hand.
The aggrieved man looked down with glowing, sorrowful red eyes. "Not again…" he muttered, clutching the dead woman close to his chest. "I can't do it again…"
A few tears he had never shed for any other occasion dripped from his eyes, as he pressed her forehead to his lips. He ran his calloused fingers through the long, silken locks of her hair, and watched the strands turn from a shining gold to an inky black.
Rage boiled deep in his stomach, so much that he had no choice but to raise his index finger toward the balcony doors and, with a single thought, the air itself crackled with ferocity, and tendrils of crimson lightning burst out. The blast broke apart the stone, and the wall exploded into nothing. In less than a second, the entire section had been destroyed, and the ceiling was left exposed. The lightning dissipated after a short distance, but the raw power had only released a fraction of his anger.
The moon that had been resting lazily on the horizon was now looking down at him through the hole he had created, and its crescent smile that matched the tea stain on the floor, was seemingly laughing at his distress.
"I'll kill him," the man continued to whisper to her as though she were still listening… but deep in his broken heart, he knew the words were only heard by himself and the gods that cruelly allowed her life to be taken.
~~~
A man with long white hair and tiger ears plucked at the strings of a beautifully crafted zither. He played a soft, disconsolate melody composed with so much love that it moved the hearts of everyone who listened. He wore white hanfu, without any decoration or pattern, to display his heartfelt mourning—as did the rest of the funeral attendees.
"Quynh," the man in white greeted quietly, dipping his head respectfully when he was approached by the man whose soul was aching the most due to the loss of his beloved.
The man in question, Quynh, looked down at him despondently, the red of his eyes and long hair looking especially striking in contrast to his white robes. He returned the greeting just as simply, "Liu Bai."
Quynh's chest felt hollow and empty. It wasn't the first funeral he had attended in honor of someone that he cherished, and it hurt all the more because of it. His friend, Liu Bai, was not a man of many words, but Quynh felt his sincerity through the dynamic song that he performed. According to the white tiger, he had written the piece specifically with the lost in mind.
"The flowers you picked are lovely," came a gentle voice from behind Quynh, stirring him from his thoughts. "I was pleasantly surprised when I picked them up from the florist for you."
The speaker was a shorter man that had his black hair tied into a ponytail. From the right side of his head extended a divine, antler-like horn. Though seemingly having a quiet disposition, the strength of his presence was enough for even a human to notice. In his hands was a bouquet of white chrysanthemums and peace lilies. He handed the arrangement to Quynh, gently pressing the flowers to the larger man's chest.
"Yeah," Quynh said, his voice monotone. "Thanks, Batu."
Batu gave a polite smile and nodded. "Of course, Young Master."
"There are a great many people," Liu Bai observed, his expression rigid. His displeasure was very poorly hidden, and his fluffy white and black ears flicked in irritation. Despite his obvious discomfort, he continued to play on his guqin uninterrupted.
"Of course there are," Batu scolded, looking down at him with a warning stare. "She was well-loved by the people, Liu Bai. Where are your manners? Do you want Quynh to make this a double funeral by ending you right here? He is the red dragon, in case you've forgotten."
Liu Bai cast a sidelong glance at the dragon in question. Quynh's eyes were burning with murderous intent; and not in a figurative way. They were quite literally glowing red and radiating a heat that both Batu and Liu Bai could feel despite being a respectful distance away.
"..." Liu Bai lowered his eyes and focused on his playing, too prideful to apologize. He displayed his regret with his sad ears.
Batu's lips tightened into an awkward smile. He attempted to diffuse the situation by changing the subject. "Young Master, it's nearly time for you to speak in front of everyone. Are you ready?"
"I'm only doing it so that—"
"So that everyone knows you're going to avenge her," Batu finished for him with an exasperated sigh. "We know. I believe in your ability to kill her assassin, we all know that you are more than capable of doing so. However, you should be a little more heartfelt in your eulogy. It's what the lady would have wanted. She gave her heart to you, it's only fair you express that a little when you send her off."
"Her hun souls have already descended to the afterlife," Liu Bai spoke solemnly. "It is time to put her po souls to rest peacefully so that they can comfort you."
Quynh was clearly irritated by their nagging, but he controlled himself, and swallowed the colorful words that threatened to leave his mouth. They were right, after all. She wouldn't have wanted him to speak only of his plans for revenge and murder at her funeral; she was a gentle and kind woman. That was what he loved about her. How could he possibly forget that?
Rather than indulging them in further conversation, he turned around and headed to the small shrine that he had built by hand, to pay respect to his dearly departed wife. It had a beautiful gold phoenix carved into the wood, representing the divine beast whose spirit she had carried. He'd carved it himself, because he didn't think that anyone else deserved the honor.
Quynh stood in front of the small shrine and turned to face the attendees. He served a stern and condescending expression as he gave his short talk.
"My wife was a friend, a sister, and perhaps… even a mother figure? – or something – to all of you. Every single one of us is going to experience her loss differently, but we will feel it together all the same. Mine will likely be worse, but still… I implore you to remember her, and revere her, the same as you did while she was here with us, because her spirits will undoubtedly look after you and wish all of you well.
"Her life was stolen prematurely by an… assassin, who I plan to track down. I will give him the same treatment that he gave my love, so I hope you will all lend me your support. Not physically, though. That would just hinder me. Thanks."
Batu sighed so deeply that it was practically a groan. Even Liu Bai, who was known for his lack of emotion, probably would have given a speech much less shallow, and with more substance.
"Why did she like him, again?" Batu muttered under his breath.
"I don't think even the gods could answer that question," Liu Bai spoke from beside him. "How awful. I wish that no one was aware that we are his comrades."
So, his two companions cringed and deflated at his ridiculous and haughty declaration. Unfortunately, that was just the beginning of a long and tumultuous journey of revenge and a war between divine beasts that would rage for centuries to come.