Beneath the ashen sky, the winds howled like wolves in mourning, carrying the scent of blood and smoke across the desolate battlefield. Mountains loomed in the distance, their once-pristine peaks now veiled by a haze of destruction. Rivers that had sparkled like silver veins now ran crimson. At the heart of the chaos stood Longhua, her shimmering scales dulled and battered, her wings hanging limp at her sides. The immortal dragon goddess, whose very name had once struck terror into armies, now clung to the last shreds of her strength.
Before her, the Daoist warrior stood unmoving, his robes barely disturbed by the howling gale. He was no ordinary foe. His presence was a stillness that cut through the storm, his gaze a blade sharper than any weapon. In his hands, the ancient artifact—a talisman infused with the essence of heaven and earth—pulsed with a light that made Longhua's heart tremble.
"You are persistent, goddess," he said, his voice as calm as the eye of a storm. "But even mountains crumble beneath the will of time. Today, you meet your end."
Longhua snarled, her voice echoing like thunder. "You underestimate me, mortal. I have ruled for centuries. You are but a fleeting spark in the face of my eternal flame."
The Daoist's lips curved into a faint, enigmatic smile. "Perhaps. But even the eternal must bow to balance."
With a flick of his wrist, the talisman unleashed a torrent of energy, an ethereal storm that tore through the heavens. Longhua roared, her wings snapping open as she surged forward, her claws aiming for the talisman. The clash was cataclysmic. Light and shadow danced in violent harmony, shaking the earth and splitting the sky.
For what felt like an eternity, the goddess and the mortal warred, their battle reshaping the land around them. But immortality was no shield against exhaustion. With every strike, Longhua felt her strength wane, her mana faltering against the talisman's relentless assault.
A fatal strike caught her unprepared. The talisman's light pierced her chest, shattering her mana core—a gem of unimaginable power that had been the source of her divinity. Pain unlike anything she had known consumed her as her essence splintered, fragments of her memories scattering into the void. She screamed, her once-melodic voice now a broken symphony of agony.
The Daoist lowered his hand, his expression a mixture of triumph and sorrow. "May you find peace in your fall, goddess."
Longhua's massive form crumbled, her scales dissolving into ash as she plummeted from the heavens. The rivers rose to meet her, swallowing her in their icy embrace. The goddess who had ruled the skies disappeared beneath the waves, her name and legacy sinking with her.
---
The waters carried her broken body far from the battlefield, their currents gentler now, as if mourning the fallen deity. When Longhua awoke, it was not as the dragon goddess but as a confused and fragile being. Her memories were a blur of scattered images—soaring above golden mountains, fiery battles, and the echo of a name she could no longer recall.
She lay on the banks of a river, her body fragile and unrecognizable. The brilliant scales that had once adorned her were gone, replaced by soft, pale skin. Her wings were no more, and her claws had become delicate fingers. The river had robbed her of her godhood and delivered her to the gates of Chang'an.
Chang'an was alive with noise and color, its streets bustling with merchants and peasants, soldiers and scholars. The city pulsed with a life that Longhua found both alien and captivating. Disoriented and weak, she stumbled through the gates, drawing curious stares and murmurs from passersby.
"Who is she?" one whispered.
"Must be a beggar," another said, noting her tattered state.
Before long, a sharp voice cut through the din. "You there! What are you doing loitering here?"
Longhua turned to see a stern-faced woman approaching, her eyes scanning Longhua's disheveled form. "You look like you've been through a storm. Have you no family?"
Longhua opened her mouth to speak, but no words came. Her thoughts were a fragmented mess, her identity a puzzle with missing pieces.
The woman sighed. "No family, no purpose. Well, the estate could use another pair of hands. Can you work?"
Longhua nodded slowly, though she wasn't entirely sure what "work" entailed. She made to move but the only thing she felt was the gentle breeze of autumn sweeping across her face as she fell lifelessly on the ground.