A wind-chime of copper vials sang as Mo Lianyin pushed aside the bead curtain of Elder Meihua's workshop. Inside, sour-sweet fumes of varnished herbs drifted around racks of crystal retorts, rune-stamped cauldrons, and bonsai night-lotus glowing pale blue. Each step raised whispered jingles from chains that criss-crossed the rafters: shackles, collars, manacles every size, every alloy strung like grim trophies above the workspace.
By the central hearth, a hunched woman in ink-spattered robes tapped mortar to pestle. Her silver hair was woven in a crown of braids, but one braid ended in a stump: the left arm below elbow was gone, replaced by a clockwork prosthesis of jade gears and iron lattice. Its fingers clicked, turning pages of an open grimoire.
"Storefront's closed," she rasped without looking up.
Lianyin cleared her throat. "Your sign promised shackles broken."
Clockwork fingers stilled. The alchemist raised eyes the color of storm-tarnished gold and froze. Slowly she inhaled, nostrils flaring as if scenting ancient incense. "Who taught you Kareth's aura?"
"I… carry it." Lianyin untied the soggy cloak, revealing crimson eyes and the shattered pendant shard against her chest.
A hiss half grief, half awe escaped Elder Meihua. She bowed deeper than her spine seemed able. "Vessel of my king, this cripple greets you."
Lianyin, embarrassed, returned a quick nod. "Please just Lianyin. We need help. My friend's cultivation was sealed by Dawnlight shackles." She gestured Soren forward. The prince laid his shattered sword and broken manacle pieces on the table.
Meihua examined the remnants with her living hand. "Core-dampening sigils, holy iron alloy, keyed to bleed frost-type meridians. Brutal work." Her mechanical fingers clicked across Soren's wrist, tracing faint scorch lines where the shackle had dug. "Residual drain remains inside. I can purge it."
Soren's shoulders sagged with relief. "What price?"
Meihua's gaze flicked toward Thorne, who lounged on a shelf of sealed crystal hearts. "Shadow panther cub… high blood-rank. But I do not take lives. Instead, a memory same trade the Marsh demands."
Lianyin stiffened. "Which memory?"
"Whichever bonds you both. Give me one heartbeat of that soul-thread, and I'll return it stronger when I'm done."
Soren met Lianyin's eyes. A soft hum vibrated along their tether trust. "Do it," he said.
The alchemist set a jade basin between them, filled with quicksilver. "Both slit a finger. Let your blood mingle here while you conjure the first moment you truly saw each other."
Lianyin recalled the cave's guttering fire, Soren collapsing with fever, her shadows coiling protectively. A pang tender, terrifying rose. They pressed bleeding fingers to the silver; twin drops merged, sending ripples that formed a tiny lotus of crimson film. Meihua whispered an incantation; the lotus lifted, floated into a glass orb, and sealed.
"Memories safely kept," she assured, tucking the orb into a warded alcove. "When my work finishes, I'll give it back."
She beckoned Soren to a stone dais inscribed with fractal arrays. "Lie flat. This hurts."
Clockwork clamps locked his wrists and ankles. Lianyin's shadows bristled, but Meihua raised her prosthetic palm. "Necessary. Holy iron must be coaxed from marrow."
From a sarcophagus of ice she retrieved a chisel of black salt-rock and a hammer bearing Kareth's crest. With each rhythmic strike, shards of gray light snapped from Soren's skin, sizzling like dying fireflies. He clenched his teeth; frost fog escaped his lips with every exhale.
Lianyin clasped his hand, feeding calm through their soul-thread. Pain arced back to her, but she bore it an echo of what she'd stolen from him in the cave.
At the ninth strike, the final sigil burst free in a gust of silver mist. Arrays dimmed; Soren sagged. Meihua wiped brow. "Drain gone. Qi pathways will heal overnight."
Clockwork fingers retrieved the memory orb, cracked it open. The blood-lotus drifted back to Soren's chest, dissolving into a warm pulse that passed along the tether to Lianyin. The recollection cave fire, shared terror returned sharper, sweeter than before.
"Thank you," Lianyin whispered.
Meihua nodded, then studied Lianyin's collarbone where the faint outline of the inverted lotus gate still glimmered. "You opened His First Gate. Dangerous so soon."
"I had no choice."
"Choice exists even in fire." The alchemist sighed, gesturing her to a stool. "Let me gauge the soul-merge."
Clockwork digits hovered, emitting soft harmonic chirps. Meihua's brows knit. "Fusion stable but quickening. Kareth's essence will overtake you within a year if nothing changes."
Lianyin's pulse spiked. "How do I stop that?"
"Balance." Meihua crossed to a shelf, retrieving a tiny ebony box. Inside lay a seed black, veined in silver, pulsing faintly. "Heart-Seed of the Umbral Lotus. Plant it in your spirit core; it will anchor your memories, slow the demon tide."
Kareth hummed approvingly. I remember forging seeds for trusted generals. Meihua was my finest cultivator-smith.
Lianyin eyed the seed. "Cost?"
"Blood, shadow, and fire. You must craft the vessel yourself in my crucible tonight. Rest is risk; Dawnlight sniff around every tide."
Soren sat up, dizzy but determined. "I'll help."
Meihua's lone eye softened. "Love entwined already. Good. The seed feeds on promise."
The Crucible Rites
At the workshop's rear, a sunken forge glowed ghost-blue, fueled by soul-flames licking from rune-etched skulls. Meihua rolled a cauldron of obsidian above the coals. "Three ingredients," she instructed. "First, your blood pure intent. Second, shadow your power shaped by discipline, not wrath. Third, fire spark from someone who'd bleed for you."
Soren offered his unharmed wrist. "Take mine."
Meihua's blade flicked; blood hissed onto molten obsidian, turning it wine-red. Lianyin summoned a ribbon of ink that spiraled into the mixture, refusing to writhe despite the demon-qi's urge; she forced it calm, steady. The cauldron roared, colors melding into starry night.
"For the fire," Soren said. Frost bloomed across his hand. He clenched, shattering the ice into powdered diamond that drifted like spark-ash into the brew. Cold fire met black heat; the mixture sparked brilliant silver.
"Stir," Meihua ordered.
Lianyin's shadows formed a paddle; she stirred sunwise, murmuring the mantra Meihua whispered. Images surfaced Master Chen smiling, Tam laughing, Soren bleeding, Asha crying beneath a burning sky. She let them float, neither grasping nor banishing them, until they settled.
"Pour," Meihua said.
She tilted the cauldron; liquids streamed into the seed's etched grooves. It drank greedily, swelling, petals unfurling from shell to reveal a miniature lotus made of night-glass.
"Consume," Meihua finished.
Heart pounding, Lianyin pressed the lotus to her sternum. It melted into her flesh, dissolving like cool rain. A bloom of relief spread; the ever-present hum of Kareth's essence retreated, a tide drawn back by lunar pull.
"You'll feel lighter," Meihua confirmed. "But beware: each Gate you open will strain the anchor. Re-forge petals after heavy use."
"Understood." Lianyin bowed low. "Your help why risk it? Dawnlight labels such aid treason."
Meihua's gaze drifted to a portrait on the wall: Kareth crowned in obsidian, Meihua younger beside him, both smiling. "I once swore to keep His legacy alive, but not his wars. Perhaps you will end both." She leaned closer, whispers for Lianyin's ears alone. "Grandmaster Solas seeks the Sanctum Prism, artifact able to rip demon souls from hosts. He'll use it when your merge reaches sixty percent slaughter you to claim Kareth's power."
"Where is the prism?"
"Rumor says hidden beneath White-Flame Monastery, north of these marches."
Soren frowned. "That's righteous-sect heartland."
"Exactly why it sleeps untouched." Meihua handed them a bone talisman etched with compass lines. "This will point when you near the prism. But gather strength first; the monastery's wards devour shadow-qi."
Thunder boomed outside; distant shouts muffled through swamp fog armored patrols entering Whisper-Harbor.
Meihua's jaw tightened. "Time ends. Take the back culvert leads to a coracle. Go south-east, skirt Dawnlight search grids."
Lianyin clasped her hand the real one. "Come with us."
She smiled, sad but resolute. "Old bones owe this haven blood. I'll stall them." Clockwork arm whirred as she lifted a rack of volatile phials. "One last blaze for my king."
Soren clasped his fist in warriors' salute. Thorne brushed Meihua's leg, earning a gentle pat.
"Live," the alchemist commanded, "so his darkness learns your light."
Lianyin tucked the compass talisman inside her robe, helped Soren steady as they slipped through the hidden hatch. A narrow tunnel carried them beneath root avenues; behind them, Meihua's forge roared hotter, shadows dancing on stone.
Halfway down the culvert, an explosion rocked the earth. Orange light flooded vent slats, then snuffed. Silence fell heavy, grieving, protective.
Lianyin pressed a trembling palm over her anchored lotus. Thank you, mentor I barely knew.
Soren wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Her sacrifice bought miles. Let's honor it."
They emerged into moonlit marsh, boarded a reed-woven coracle stashed per Meihua's map, and shoved away. Fog closed behind like curtains over a finished act. Ahead, the Blood-Red Moon climbed higher ominous, inevitable.
Yet in her chest, the new lotus glowed steadier than that cursed orb, whispering that ink can hold stars if molded by steady hands.