***
The castle was cloaked in the hush of midnight, its lanterns dimmed to glowing embers. Beneath the veil of the quiet, Mo yao and Yín Shu moved silently through the eastern wing of the palace, their footsteps light but their hearts heavy. Each hall they passed held memories—of running through the corridors as children, hiding from scolding maids, laughing under silken canopies.
Yín Shū paused beside the tall window near the grand staircase. Moonlight bathed her face in silver as she looked out across the gardens they used to play in. "Do you think she knows?"
"She always knows," Mò Yáo whispered, her voice tight with emotion.
They reached their chambers, the place that had been both home and prison. Mo Yao knelt and pried open a hollowed floorboard beneath her bed. Inside, a small velvet pouch held their old training rings and the broken flute Yín Shū had tried to fix when she was ten.
Yín Shū crossed the room and opened a drawer to pull out a folded parchment. It was a letter addressed to the Royal Archivist, old Master Shen, the only adult who never looked at them with fear. She placed it gently atop her pillow.
"Where are we even going?" Mò Yáo asked, slinging a satchel over her shoulder.
Yín Shū looked at her. "Where the dream ends. Where the truth begins."
Outside, the garden was covered in a layer of mist. Their cloaks blended into the fog as they slipped past the statue of the celestial deer.
"Wait," Mo Yao said, suddenly freezing. "Did you hear that?"
Yín Shū tilted her head. There was nothing—then the faint flutter of wings. A raven landed atop the archway and cawed softly. Its eyes glowed faintly red.
"Is it watching us?"
"No. It's following us."
They didn't wait. They slipped through the secret gate carved into the eastern wall. Few knew of it—only the Queen, the twins, and a man who once saved their lives.
From the tower above, a figure stepped into view.
Shrouded in the shadows of the Night Guard, she watched them disappear into the trees. Her face was hidden beneath the black veil of the elite palace watchers.
She turned and vanished again, melting into the tower's shadow.
Far away, in her private chambers, Queen jingfei stood beside the mirror that reflected no one.
"She left it behind," she murmured, holding a jade pendant in her hand.
The Queen didn't weep. She closed her eyes and turned to the flame burning in her brazier.
"Let them go," she said. "But let none touch them."
A shadow flickered behind her. A silent nod. Orders delivered. The game had begun.
Beyond the palace walls, the road ahead stretched cold and uncertain.
But the twins did not look back
***
They reached the outer wall — but just as they scaled the final ledge, they saw someone watching from the shadows.
A guard?
A spy?
No.
A boy
He wore simple robes and carried a scroll strapped across his back.
His glasses were crooked. His boots were mismatched. And he looked terrified.
"Wait!" he called. "You're leaving?"
"Who are you?" Mo Yao asked, dropping down beside him.
"Zhao Lian," he stammered. "I'm an apprentice to the Royal Scholar. I wasn't supposed to see you but… I did."
"Then forget it," Yín Shū warned with a smile which was a bit terrifying. "Or someone will erase more than your memory."
He hesitated.
Then stepped forward.
"The Hollow Dreamer visited me. In my sleep. He told me where the Gate really is."
Silence.
"You're lying," Mo Yao said — but she knew he wasn't.
"Take me with you," he pleaded. "I have information. And I don't want to die in this palace."
"Alright" Mo Yao sighed
***
As the twins and Lian disappear into the night, one figure watches from the palace roof.
She wears black robes.
Her shadow stretches too long.
She raises a finger and touches her ring.
The ink inside ripples once.
"They've left," she whispers.
Far away, the Hollow Dreamer listens.
And smiles.