The rise&fall

The road to Zhen'er stretched on through whispering trees and stone paths slick with moss. Birds sang overhead as Long Yi led them with steady, purposeful steps. The air smelled of pine and woodsmoke, and the journey—while peaceful—was filled with quiet tension.

Gogjen walked beside Leeyang, occasionally dragging his feet and yawning loudly.

Rangi, however, kept her eyes forward. She could feel the qi of the land—gentle, steady. It hummed beneath her steps. Something about this direction pulled at her.

"Your sword," Long Yi said suddenly, glancing over his shoulder at Leeyang. "It's sharp. Maintained well. But you've yet to cultivate, haven't you?"

Leeyang blinked, surprised. "I haven't."

"Nor have you," Long Yi added, glancing at Gogjen, who stiffened in response.

"Hey, I got hands and a blade. What more do I need?"

Long Yi gave a chuckle, low and warm.

"It's not your fault. The zhurong after her coronation ordered no one except the child of destiny,to be trained in cultivation... You've been trained only in martial skill."

"And Rangi?" Huwue asked.

"She's the child of the Tian Clan," Long Yi said, nodding with subtle reverence. "she was the only one trained in cultivation of powers. Each generation, one child is marked by destiny itself..."

He paused, frowning slightly as he counted in his mind.

"Fourteen years ago."

Gogjen glanced at Rangi, confused. "But Rangi is fifteen."

Long Yi blinked. "Is she? Huh. Perhaps I've misremembered. My bones are old, and time slips like smoke through fingers." He gave a small smile. "Pay no mind to my ramblings."

Rangi said nothing, her expression unreadable. Huwue looked at her briefly, then looked away.

The trail curved downward and began to widen. Distant sounds of laughter and bustle carried on the wind—drums, bells, merchants shouting, and the clatter of hooves.

A vast valley spread out before them, nestled in the heart of tall silver hills. At the center lay the vibrant city of Zhen'er.

Its streets were alive with colors. Children ran between vendors, chasing one another with ribbon sticks. The smell of roasted meats, spiced dumplings, and fresh mochi filled the air. Joy danced in every corner of the stone-paved town.

People bustled in and out of fabric shops, teahouses, and training dojos. Performers spun staffs and painted glyphs in the air with colored smoke. Lanterns shaped like dragons floated gently above them.

Gogjen's eyes widened. "Whoa. They have snacks here?"

Leeyang muttered, "Of course that's the first thing you notice."

Rangi smiled faintly. Even Huwue laughed under her breath.

Long Yi stood still for a moment, soaking in the view. Then, he raised his hand and pointed to the far edge of the city.

There, rising above the tiled rooftops and spiraling bridges, stood a long, winding stone stairway. It led up to a forested ridge, and above that, perched like a crown upon the world, was a grand structure of red and gold—ornate, ancient, and timeless.

"The Temple of Zhen'er," he said. "Said to be one of the last places in this region where the spirit of the first cultivators still lingers."

Gogjen's face dropped. "Wait... we're climbing that?"

"It's so far," Leeyang groaned.

Long Yi chuckled. "You've walked through war-torn forests, survived assassins, and outran soldiers… but stairs defeat you?"

Gogjen crossed his arms. "Yes. Especially long, ancient, painful stairs."

Huwue hid her laughter behind her hand. Rangi smirked.

They stood at the edge of the city, the smell of roasted chestnuts mingling with temple incense on the wind. Children's laughter echoed beneath a sky streaked with orange light.

For the first time in a while, it felt like peace… even if just for a moment.

Far in the distance, above the clouds and bells, the Temple waited.

And so did the truth.