A Song For The Ages

Night had draped the islet in a curtain of deep indigo, the sky blanketed with stars that shimmered like powdered glass. Waves lapped gently against the rocky shore, and a salty breeze carried the faint scent of the sea over to the heart of the small island. There, in a natural clearing encircled by stones and sparse coral growth, a massive bonfire roared.

The flames danced high, fed by driftwood and logs, casting long shadows across the gathered group. Feiyin crouched near the fire, his sleeves rolled up, turning thick cuts of shark meat on a makeshift grill of stone and threaded wire. The meat crackled and sizzled, a rich, mouth-watering aroma filling the air. The shark, which was nearly eight meters long, was now a feast, its flesh succulent and faintly infused with essence. Before returning, Feiyin had carefully restored his presence to the Qi Flow Phase, concealing the internal shift following his infusion of water essence. With eyes on them now more than ever, being recognized as an inner disciple would only bring trouble and attention from the wrong people.

"This is incredible," said Jue Qingling, crouching beside Baiyu, who had curled up with her head resting on Feiyin's shoulder. Her eyes were drawn to the gleam of Baiyu's newly shed scales, now streaked with elegant lines of cerulean blue. "How did she manage to awaken so cleanly?"

Feiyin smiled lightly as he adjusted the grill. "She must've eaten something while I was fighting the shark. Always had a knack for stumbling into lucky things, that one."

Qingling reached out, gently running her fingers along Baiyu's pristine scales. "It suits her. These streaks... they're beautiful."

Baiyu flicked her tail lazily and let out a low, pleased trill, nuzzling Feiyin with a touch of smugness. He chuckled. "You're going to get spoiled at this rate."

"I mean, she did help catch dinner," Qingling teased.

Around them, a few of the disciples who had joined the expedition laughed and bantered, taking turns roasting skewers of meat and sipping from warm gourds of sea fruit wine. The atmosphere was light and lively; a stark contrast to the trials they had faced.

And yet, Feiyin's smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

He glanced toward the sea. The fire reflected faintly in his gaze, but beneath it was something else. A weight. A ripple he couldn't place.

There was a wrongness in the air.

Subtle. Distant. But present. Like the moment before a storm. Like the sound of silence when something should have been loud.

He closed his eyes for a moment and let his senses unfurl into the night. Oscillations spread outward, brushing over rock and sea, life and breath. Nothing unusual.

And yet the unease remained.

He inhaled deeply, catching the scent of salt and woodsmoke. Not now, he thought. Whatever it is... I can't reach it.

"Feiyin," Qingling said, noticing his quiet.

He blinked, turning back to her. "Sorry. Just... thinking."

She tilted her head slightly, her gaze soft but teasing. "Dangerous pastime. You'll burn your meat."

He smiled again, more real this time. "You're right. Best not to let it char."

The meal went on. More laughter, more stories; some exaggerated, some embarrassingly true. One drunk disciple tried to wrestle with a half-cooked shark fin and ended up falling into the sand, sparking an uproar. Even the two emissaries joined in; one of them introduced a tossing game from their homeland involving smooth stones and concentric circles drawn in the sand, while the other taught a quick-footed step dance that left everyone scrambling and laughing. It wasn't a paradisal beach, but no one seemed to care. After all they'd endured, with the skyship still in repair and their mission awaiting just beyond the horizon, the islet became something rare: a place to breathe outside of their missions and the sect. A place to be human again.

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When most had eaten their fill and the fire had mellowed into golden coals, someone called out, "Feiyin! Give us something to listen to! Play!"

"Yes! Music!" another chimed in.

Feiyin sighed dramatically. "No rest for the weary, huh?"

"You did bring the shark," Qingling pointed out, nudging him.

"Fine, fine. Let me get my strings."

He reached into his storage ring and pulled out a slim, familiar instrument; a seven-string guqin of darkwood and silver thread. He sat beside the fire, Baiyu shifting so her head rested against his leg, eyes half-lidded.

The first notes rang soft, a gentle ripple across the surface of silence. The guqin's voice shimmered like moonlight on water, rising and falling with practiced grace. He let his fingers flow, coaxing old melodies into the air, songs his mother used to hum, rhythms he had shaped into his own.

The group quieted. Even the wind seemed to hush, leaving only the music and the sea.

Feiyin played of journeys and storms, of islands and reunions, of stars and unseen paths.

He played until the last flame bowed low. The lingering scent of charred wood and sea air danced with the final notes.

For a moment, even the two emissaries sat motionless, heads bowed slightly, as if paying homage to something sacred. The warmth of the fire mingled with the hush of the sea breeze, wrapping the gathering in something close to reverence.

And for a time, the unease faded, replaced by the fleeting grace of a night unburdened by war or duty.

The next morning, the skyship was finally repaired. With all necessary adjustments complete, the Red Lotus Mercenaries departed once more, the rising sun glinting off the metal hull as it lifted them away from the islet. The joviality of the previous night seemed like a distant memory, faded beneath the weight of duty. Seriousness replaced laughter as the mission ahead loomed larger than ever.

They flew with purpose, crossing sea and cloud through days and nights, rushing to reach the Greenwood Kingdom. As they crossed into Greenwood territory, the landscape below changed; dense canopies of ancient, towering trees stretched endlessly, their emerald leaves glistening with dew, hiding vibrant wildlife and flora within their shade.

At the heart of it all stood the Greenwood Capital, a city woven seamlessly into the forest. Graceful bridges arched over rivers glowing faintly with bioluminescent algae, and the buildings were formed from living wood and stone, shaped through years of elven craft. Crystal lanterns shimmered on towers and walkways, casting hues of green and gold that blended into the surrounding canopy.

Their arrival was well-timed, if not fated, for just as the capital came into view, a cacophony of chaos met them. From the sky, they witnessed monstrous tides of winged beasts descending upon the capital in organized swarms. The defenders, clad in armors and robes woven with forest symbols, formed a gleaming green perimeter around the outer districts, coordinated by large formations that shimmered like force barriers. Arrows tipped with essence qi, conjured vines, and elemental strikes burst against the tide of invading beasts, yet the enemy's numbers surged endlessly.

"Killer bears," Maelis muttered with dread, peering down. The creatures were massive, with the bulk of a grizzly and the iridescent wings and fur patterns of hornets.

"That's not just a nest," muttered Qingling, her expression hardening. "That's a whole swarm."

The two emissaries looked anxious, itching to act, but Qingling stopped them with a firm gesture.

"Not yet," she said. "Rushing in blind will only get us torn apart."

The skyship veered upward, gaining altitude to circle the city from above, using the clouds as cover. Peering down, they scouted the landscape, looking for signs of command, a leader, a source.

"There!" Ruan called out, sharp eyes locking onto a grotesque figure perched atop a ruined tower, a creature at least twice the size of the others, with wings veined in gold and a carapace that glistened with a resinous sheen.

"The Queen," said Qingling. "That's the heart of the hive."

"But how do we get close without alerting the swarm?" one disciple asked. "If they see our skyships-"

"They'll shred us," another finished.

Feiyin's gaze narrowed. "Then we don't let them see us. We drop from above. Glide in silently. Hit hard and fast. Take out the queen and the hive collapses."

The others exchanged glances.

"It's insane," someone whispered.

"It's our best chance," Qingling said. "But it won't work unless someone leads the strike."

Feiyin stepped forward without hesitation, his eyes calm and unwavering. "I'll go."

Several heads turned to him in surprise, but no one questioned it. Not after everything they had seen him do.

"Then get ready," Qingling nodded, her expression tight with concern but trust. "We'll support from above. You only get one shot.""