The Warrior Scholar Chronicles. Ink and Moon on Rice Paper.

Chapter 1 The Fire that never goes out!

 If only the tail could wag the dog, then there would be justice.

Date: The middle of the night of autumnal equinox in the year 4,989. The Yellow Laced Empire, Silver Circle Sect City, Silver Circle Sect School and Orphanage.

Chapter 1 The Fire that never goes out!

Tang Yun's body trembled the constant assault, which seemed to devour every cell within him was caused by his excess qi, slowly unravelling the very essence of his being. A never-ending struggle that greeted him each morning. Sleep offered the only reprieve from this ceaseless battle—a battle he believed to be inflicted upon him by the gods as nothing else made sense.

Despite the relentless curse, he continued to battle, his determination to survive undiminished. Like every other day, his body grappled with the searing fever that seemed to emanate from every inch of his slender frame. Even the air within his dorm room bore the weight of oppressive heat, as turbulent waves of warmth wafted from his skin, eventually mingling with the crispness of the autumn night air.

He lay there half-awake in a haze, soaked in perspiration, the once-comforting weight of heavy wool blankets now abandoned at the foot of his bed. The dim light in the room painted elongated shadows that flickered like ethereal wraiths, casting an eerie dance upon the walls. Amidst the chaos, he felt his vulnerability acutely, defenceless against the illness and the searing agony that wracked his body.

Each gasp for air felt like inhaling fire, as if every breath was a tormenting inferno consuming him from within. The agony was palpable, a shroud that clung to him was unrelenting. Yet, in this turbulent sea of fire, Tang Yun's subconscious mind summoned a fierce surge of willpower. It mustered the remnants of his mental strength, pushing against the suffocating grasp of pain. These waves of resolve crashed against the burning fires, marking a battle of both body and spirit—a desperate attempt to break free from the chains of pain that held him captive.

Tang Yun exhaled a deliberate, drawn-out sigh, a signal of his mind gradually unclenching in victory as his fever broke. As his mind cleared, the relentless agony ebbed, but it left behind a wisp of yearning. The solace of his dreams, now lost, was his only respite. In those fleeting moments of clarity, the touch of his mother's mystical embrace brushed against his senses like a phantom whisper from the past. It was etched into his young mind, the tender warmth lingering, ephemeral and surreal. Slowly, it dissolved into a memory as intangible as mist.

He savoured the bittersweetness that clung to his thoughts, relishing the memories of his mother. Though it left behind an unreachable itch, a nagging sensation that teased his senses. The unease grew into an irritation as he felt the loss more acutely with each passing heartbeat. As a dark shadow stirred within his thoughts, gradually becoming an overwhelming wave of grief. It threatened to enshroud his mind and emotions in a dense cloud of darkness, like an approaching tempest ready to consume him.

Yet he woke, the gloom of these thoughts banished instantly, lying still as if at death's door his mind pondering what dread awaited him today. Annoyance threaded its way into the fabric of his already shadowed mood. Entrapped, he felt taunted into surrender by his elusive dream state. A wisp that dissipated each morning akin to smoke carried on the wind.

Today, a throbbing pain in his eyes emerged as the culprit he thought. It held his attention at the forefront of his mind, something he could not banish like his sickness. The dull ache of burning which was held at the back of his mind was still ever so present, just smouldering in darkness.

The pain in his eyes had ruthlessly jolted him from his peaceful slumber not unusual something always did. Though an unwelcome intrusion, it seized his only refuge, stripping away his sole sanctuary, dreams!