Page 3 of For Ever More

“We must go to the Elders at once. Lady Shila, Lord Zhu, and Lord Hairong have summoned you. They’ve been anxious at your long absence.”

Dian frowns. “Why? When I fulfilled their conditions to leave, they did not stipulate any terms—”

“The Elders have been worried for your safety. The Three Kingdoms are dangerous,” he says.

Dian glances at me wrapped in her cloak. “Can we return home to change first?”

“We shouldn’t delay,” the one called Captain Shenming advises. “The Elders know of your arrival, along with the outsiders you’ve brought. They will have questions.”

Outsiders. It stings, though I shouldn’t let it.

“I must also return to the council,” our father says, walking ahead. “We mustn’t take advantage of their patience.”

We follow a wide stone pathway, heading deeper inland. Dian falls back to speak to me in a low voice. “Shall we tell Father who you are now?”

Soldiers circle us, along with the captain who never seems far from my sister’s side. “Not here. Later, when we’re alone.”

“I doubt we can wait that long. The Elders will want to know too.” Dian adds, “But don’t tell them about the dragon’s magic, or attempt to channel it. It could be hard to explain. You might be kept under watch, or even confined.”

Unease grips me. “Why? I thought I’d be safe here, among our people.”

“You are.” She touches my arm. “The Elders are wise and understanding, but their first duty is to protect our island from danger, beyond and within. It’s why they made me remove the root of my ring before I left—to ensure no enemy could use it to get here.”

You’ll bury us. You’re destroying yourself. I’ll never forget the fear in Dian’s eyes when I unleashed the dragon’s magic at the Palace of Nine Hills. Does my sister think I’m a threat? Yet warmth fills me that she’s protecting me now.

As Father comes to lead Dian away, Ruilin and I trail them, unable to stop staring at our surroundings. Peonies, azaleas, and jasmine bloom alongside others I’ve never seen before: sprays of pink buds, feathery blossoms in yellow and indigo, some shining like they’re dusted in silver or copper. The grass glitters, iridescent dew caught in the blades, butterflies darting across the meadows. Trees tower in the forests behind, small clusters of fruit nestled amid the flowers, blossoming in a stunning array of colors—the Radiant Sky Trees. Farther inland, buildings rise, surrounded by vast gardens. The rooftops are adorned with miniature sculptures of dragons, often entwined around the sun or moon. The craftsmanship is exquisite, the colors vibrant. Everything appears glazed in perfection, without blemish, scratch, or flaw—as though time leaves this place untouched, a haven preserved by magic.

My heart swells with pride. This is my home, as beautiful as Dian said, not just the wonder of the grounds but the sweetness of the air akin to ripe mandarins, the melody of the birds, the way the pristine ocean wraps the island like a precious jewel. Even the Palace of Nine Hills seems worn in comparison, rough around the edges.

As the path leads up a steep slope, Dian’s pace slows, her face glistening with sweat. Unsure how to address my father, I call out to the nearby soldier instead. “Captain,” I say awkwardly. “Dian is injured. She is tired from our journey and needs to rest.”

“Injured?” My father’s voice rises. “Shenming, can you summon a carriage?”

He nods, striding toward a wooden carving of a lotus. Only now do I notice these scattered at intervals along the path. As he places his hand on it, light streaks across the petals. A short while later, a closed carriage rolls toward us, the wheels shimmering. The five of us climb in, settling on the cushioned seats, the other soldiers following on foot. Without warning, the carriage sweeps forward swiftly—almost eerily—with no one to guide or draw it.

“How is this possible?” Ruilin voices my question aloud.

“Our island doesn’t have horses or similar large beasts, but we make do with the power we possess,” the captain says shortly.

“Can they only be summoned with magic?” I ask.

“Yes,” Dian replies. “Our people’s magic is strongest here on our island, these carriages will not work beyond.”

The captain looks at her pointedly, as though warning her against sharing this with “outsiders.” But when she ignores him, he holds his tongue.

Dian’s eyes go to my hand, curled in my lap to conceal my ring. While the brightness has faded from the petals, the gold stalk marked by the Sun Dragon is so different from the green one wrapped around my father’s and the captain’s rings. When Ruilin asks the others a question, Dian crumples a green leaf between her fingers, rubbing the juice over the root of my ring, discreetly staining it. While a shade darker, the difference is almost imperceptible.

“Your family must be proud of your elevation, Shenming,” Dian says when he glances at us again. “The Elders think highly of you.”

She speaks with such familiarity, this captain must be a close friend. His answering smile seems to confirm it. “The Elders honor me. But it is your father and those on the council who hold their trust, who the Elders lean on for their advice.”

“I am one of many,” Father replies somberly. “We are honored to be chosen by the Elders to represent our group—whether the army, artisans, scholars, or physicians.”

“How long have the Elders governed?” Will they remember me?

He frowns. “As long as I can recall; they ruled during my parents’ time too. Lord Hairong, Lord Zhu, and Lady Shila are blessed with remarkably long lives.”

I’m drawing closer without realizing it, but shift away at my father’s wary look. My spirits sink. Though I’d asked Dian to conceal my identity for now, I’m growing afraid for when I finally reveal who I am… of being a disappointment.