"Spells are the footprints of gods trying to walk among mortals."— Veyra Solenne, Oracle of Falling Suns, rumored to have foreseen her own disappearance beneath a crimson eclipse.
December 24, 1969, The Kunlun Mountains
Travel by International Portkey was a nauseating lurch through space, a hook behind the navel that dragged you from one continent to another in a heartbeat. But the Black family did not use public transport.
They traveled by Spirit Gate.
One moment, Vega was standing in the drafty atrium of the Chinese Ministry Liaison Office in London; the next, he was stepping out of an archway carved from white jade, inhaling air so thin and pure it felt like drinking ice water.
He blinked, his eyes adjusting to a light that was far too golden for winter.
They weren't on the ground.
They were standing on a floating archipelago of stone islands drifting lazily amongst the clouds. Below them, thousands of feet down, the jagged, snow-capped peaks of the Kunlun range pierced the mist like dragon's teeth. Above, the sky was a deep, impossible violet, untouched by the grey smog of the industrial world.
"Welcome," Arcturus said, adjusting his fur-lined cloak as he stepped off the jade platform. "To the Jade Empire. Watch your step, Vega. The gravity here is somewhat... optional."
Vega walked to the edge of the platform. There was no railing. Just a sheer drop into the sea of clouds below. A flock of paper cranes, large as eagles and animated by complex charms, flew past, carrying messages between the floating islands.
"It's not hidden," Vega breathed, looking at the massive palace complex drifting in the distance—a sprawling city of pagoda-style roofs tiled in lapis lazuli and gold, connected by bridges made of solidified moonlight. "The Statute of Secrecy..."
"Does not apply to the sky," a voice answered.
A man was waiting for them. He wore robes of flowing silk embroidered with moving cloud patterns, and his face was ageless, smooth as a river stone.
"Lord Black," the man bowed deeply. "The Emperor anticipates your arrival. The tea is already steeping."
"Magistrate Li," Arcturus returned the bow, though his was the stiffer, Western variety. "This is my grandson, Vega."
Magistrate Li looked at Vega. His eyes were entirely black, like pools of ink.
"The Star," Li noted, a small smile touching his lips. "We felt the ripple of your arrival. Your magic is... loud. Like a bell."
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The Palace of Ten Thousand Winds, Jade Empire
They took a gondola to the main palace—a boat carved from a single piece of fragrant sandalwood that floated through the air on currents of wind magic.
As they drifted closer to the central island, the scale of the "High Fantasy" Vega had read about became reality. He saw terracotta soldiers patrolling the bridges, not stiff and jerky, but moving with fluid, ceramic grace. He saw koi fish swimming through the air alongside the boat, their scales flashing like jewels.
"Business," Arcturus murmured to Vega as the boat docked at a pier made of white marble. "I have to discuss trade routes for Peruvian Vipertooth scales with the Ministry of Heaven. It will be tedious. You are free to explore the Gardens of Tranquility.
"I'll be discreet," Vega promised, stepping onto the marble.
"And Vega?" Arcturus paused. "This is not England. The magic here is older. It does not use wands. Respect it."
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Vega escaped the diplomatic procession quickly, slipping away into the sprawling gardens that surrounded the Emperor's palace.
It was winter, but here, in the heart of the empire's magic, the seasons were a choice. He walked through a grove of cherry trees that were blooming with pink fire, shedding petals that turned into butterflies before hitting the mossy ground.
He followed the sound of water.
It led him to a secluded courtyard walled off by red lacquer screens. In the center lay a pond that steamed gently, and standing on the surface of the water—not floating, but standing—was a girl.
She looked to be about his age, perhaps a year older. She wore a simple training tunic of white silk, tied with a sash of blood-red. Her hair was black, impossibly long, and pinned up with sticks made of unpolished jade.
But it was her movement that made Vega stop.
She was moving through a series of forms—a martial dance that was slow, deliberate, and heavy. Every time she pushed her hand forward, the air rippled with heat. Every time she turned, the water beneath her feet didn't splash; it hissed, steam rising in spirals.
Vega watched, leaning against a moon gate. His Metamorphmagus senses, usually so attuned to the fluidity of others, hit a wall. She didn't feel fluid. She felt... dense. Like the core of a planet.
She stopped. She didn't turn around.
"You are loud," she said. Her voice was low, carrying a resonance that vibrated in Vega's chest.
"I've been told," Vega replied, stepping into the courtyard. "Magistrate Li compared me to a bell."
The girl turned.
Vega had seen beautiful people. Narcissa was beautiful in a cold, sculptured way. This girl was beautiful in the way a forest fire was beautiful—terrifying, bright, and utterly consuming.
Her eyes were gold. Molten, burning gold with vertical slit pupils that dilated as she looked at him.
"You smell of the Void," she stated, tilting her head. "And wet dog. London?"
"Grimmauld Place," Vega corrected, smiling. "I'm Vega Black."
"I know the name," she said. She walked across the water toward the edge of the pond, stepping onto the stone path without a drop of moisture on her shoes. "The Western family that names their children after stars they cannot reach."
She stopped in front of him. She was tall, looking him directly in the eye.
"I am Ming Yue."
Bright Moon, Vega translated mentally.
"You have dragon blood," Vega said. It wasn't a question. The heat radiating off her was palpable. It wasn't a spell; it was her metabolism.
"And you have no blood," Ming Yue countered. "Or rather, your blood doesn't know what it wants to be. You shift. You flow."
She reached out, a hand hovering near his face. Her fingers were long, elegant, and the nails were slightly pointed, shimmering like mother-of-pearl.
"Metamorphmagus," she diagnosed. "A chaos spirit trapped in a human skin."
"It has its uses," Vega said, fighting the urge to shift his features just to impress her. The Hum in his blood was reacting to her proximity, spiking with adrenaline. "I can be anyone."
"A mask is not a face," Ming Yue said dismissively.
She turned and walked toward a stone bench beneath a weeping willow that dripped leaves of actual silver.
"Sit," she commanded. "My grandfather is shouting at your grandfather about tariffs. We have time."
Vega sat. The stone bench was warm, heated from within.
"Is it true?" Vega asked, watching her pour tea from a porcelain set that had appeared on a nearby rock. "That the Imperial line carries the blood of the Panlong? The Elder Dragons?"
"We do not carry it," Ming Yue said, handing him a cup. The tea inside was amber and smelled of spices Vega couldn't name. "We are it. The human form is... a politeness. A container so we do not burn the furniture."
She took a sip, her golden eyes watching him over the rim of the cup.
"You fought a duel," she said suddenly. "I heard the winds whisper it. You made a boy laugh until he choked."
"News travels fast."
"The wind has no borders," she said. "Was it amusing?"
"It was necessary," Vega said. "He was bigger than me. I had to change the rules."
Ming Yue smiled. It was a slow, dangerous expression that showed teeth that were just a little too white, a little too sharp.
"I like that," she murmured. "The West is so obsessed with wands. Point and shoot. Bang and flash. It is childish."
She held up her hand. A small flame ignited in her palm. It wasn't orange fire; it was white, pure and scorching. She closed her fingers over it, snuffing it out.
"True magic is internal. It is the breath. The blood."
"We use wands to focus," Vega defended, though he felt the truth of her words. "To direct the intent."
"You use wands because you are afraid of burning your hands," Ming Yue corrected.
She leaned closer. The scent of her was overwhelming—sandalwood, smoke, and hot iron.
"You are interesting, Vega Black. You have the Chaos in you. But you keep it locked in a cage. You wear your grandfather's ring and your school's robes and you pretend to be a wizard."
"And what am I?"
"You are a shapeshifter," she whispered. "You are the thing that happens when the rules break. Why do you fight like a human?"
Vega stared at her. For months, everyone had praised his control. McGonagall, Flitwick, Arcturus—they all wanted him to master the discipline.
And here was this girl, this dragon-princess in a floating palace, telling him to let the monster out.
"Because if I don't," Vega said honestly, "I might forget how to be human."
Ming Yue laughed. It was a sound like wind chimes in a gale—lovely and wild.
"Being human is overrated," she said. "They are fragile. They break so easily."
She stood up.
"Come. I will show you the Sky Docks. We have a storm dragon migrating in from the north. If we are lucky, we can watch it eat the lightning."
She offered him her hand.
Vega looked at it. He felt the heat radiating from her skin. He looked at her golden eyes, ancient and young all at once.
He took her hand. It was burning hot.
"Lead the way," Vega said. "But's lets collect by brothers first".
As they walked out of the garden, leaving the safety of the walls behind, Vega realized that Arcturus was wrong. The world wasn't just political games and dark lords.
There were still wonders. There were still dragons. And standing next to Ming Yue, looking out at the endless sea of clouds, Vega felt the Hum in his blood finally, truly, wake up.
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Vega found his brothers exactly where he expected them: bored out of their minds in the Hall of Diplomatic Waiting.
It was a magnificent room, paneled in fragrant cedar and hung with silk tapestries that depicted the history of the rain, but to a ten-year-old and an eight-year-old, it was a prison cell with nicer curtains.
Sirius was currently trying to see if he could levitate a priceless Ming vase by staring at it very hard. Regulus was sitting on a cushion, reading a book on goblin treaties that he was holding upside down, his eyes fixed nervously on the terracotta guard at the door.
"If you break that vase, Sirius," Vega said, stepping into the room, "Grandfather will sell you to the goblins to pay for it. And they don't tax by weight; they tax by annoyance."
Sirius jumped, the vase wobbling dangerously on its pedestal before settling.
"Vega!" Sirius scrambled up, his face lighting up with relief. "Save us. Grandfather has been in there for hours. I think they're discussing the price of dragon dung. I'm going to die of boredom. I'll shrivel up and turn into dust."
"Dramatic," Regulus whispered, closing his book. "But accurate."
"Grab your cloaks," Vega said, beckoning them. "We're leaving."
"Where?" Sirius asked, already sprinting for his fur-lined coat. "Anywhere. I'll take a dungeon. I'll take a sewer."
"Better," Vega grinned, feeling the residual heat of Ming Yue's hand still tingling on his palm. "We're going to watch a dragon eat lightning."
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Ming Yue was waiting for them by the Vermilion Gate. She had thrown a heavy cloak of red brocade over her training tunic, the fur collar framing her face like a lion's mane. Her golden eyes tracked the three Black brothers as they approached.
"You brought the puppies," she noted, her voice carrying that strange, vibrating resonance.
"Puppies?" Sirius stopped, bristling slightly. He looked at Ming Yue, then at Vega. "Who is she? Why are her eyes doing that?"
"Sirius, Regulus," Vega introduced, stepping aside. "This is Ming Yue. Her family owns the sky. Be polite, or she might drop you through a cloud."
Regulus bowed instantly, his pureblood etiquette overriding his confusion. "It is an honor, my lady."
Sirius just stared. "You have dragon eyes," he blurted out. "Can you breathe fire?"
Ming Yue smiled. It wasn't the polite smile of a hostess; it was the baring of teeth. She held up a finger, and a tiny, white-hot flame danced on the tip, shaping itself into a miniature serpent that snapped its jaws at Sirius.
"Only when I'm bored," she said. She closed her hand, snuffing the flame. "Come. The storm is inbound from the Northern Peaks. If we are late, we miss the feeding."
She turned and walked—not toward the bridges, but straight off the edge of the platform.
"She fell!" Regulus gasped, rushing to the edge.
But Ming Yue wasn't falling. She was walking on the air, or rather, on a path of solidified mist that swirled into existence beneath her boots with every step.
"Cloud-walking," Vega explained, feeling the Hum in his blood rise to meet the ambient magic. "It's high-density wind magic. Don't look down, and don't stop moving."
He stepped out onto the void. The air felt spongy under his boots, like walking on a very thick mattress.
"Wicked," Sirius breathed. He didn't hesitate. He jumped.
Regulus looked at the drop—thousands of feet of empty air and jagged mountain peaks below—and went pale.
"I can't," he whispered.
"Take my hand, Reg," Vega said, reaching back. "I've got you. The wind holds us because we ask it to."
Regulus looked at Vega's hand, then at the terrified drop. He grabbed Vega's fingers in a death grip.
Together, the three brothers followed the dragon girl into the sky.
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The Sky Docks were not built for ships. They were built for leviathans.
They were massive, cantilevered platforms of black iron jutting out from the central island, anchored by chains the size of tree trunks. There were no railings. The wind here was fierce, whipping their cloaks and stinging their cheeks with ice crystals.
But the view...
Before them lay the Cloud Sea, a roiling ocean of grey and violet vapor. And tearing through it was the storm.
It wasn't just a weather system; it was a living thing. Massive, anvil-headed clouds boiled and churned, lit from within by constant, strobing flashes of blue lightning. The thunder wasn't a rumble; it was a heartbeat. Boom. Boom. Boom.
"There," Ming Yue pointed.
A shape emerged from the clouds.
It was colossal. Serpentine and endless, its scales the color of bruised iron, the Storm Dragon undulated through the air like a great river. It had no wings—it didn't need them. It rode the magnetic currents of the storm. Its antlers crackled with electricity, and its whiskers were long tendrils of white fog.
"A Panlong," Vega shouted over the wind, holding onto Regulus to keep him from blowing away. "A River Dragon of the Sky!"
"He is hungry," Ming Yue said. She wasn't shouting, but her voice cut through the thunder clearly.
The dragon opened its maw.
A bolt of lightning, thick as a castle tower, arced from the storm cloud. It didn't strike the ground. It struck the dragon.
The beast didn't recoil. It inhaled.
The lightning was sucked into its throat, a river of raw, blue energy. The dragon's scales lit up, rippling with light from head to tail, glowing with a terrifying, incandescent power. It roared—a sound that vibrated in Vega's teeth and made the iron platform shudder.
"He eats the excess charge," Ming Yue explained, watching the spectacle with calm reverence. "If he didn't, the storms would destroy the mountains below. He is the regulator."
Sirius was leaning as far over the edge as he dared, his grey eyes wide and reflecting the lightning.
"I want one," Sirius yelled. "Vega, can we get one? I'll keep it in my room!"
"It would eat the house, Siri!" Vega laughed, shielding his eyes from the glare.
"Mother would hate it!" Sirius shouted back, grinning maniacally. "That's the best part!"
Regulus was shaking, but he wasn't looking away. He was staring at the dragon with a mix of terror and awe.
"It's beautiful," Regulus whispered. "It's pure power."
Ming Yue stepped closer to the edge. She raised a hand, and the dragon turned its massive head. Its eyes, burning like suns, focused on the tiny figures on the dock.
For a second, the pressure was immense. The air tasted of ozone and ancient magic.
Then, the dragon dipped its head—a nod of recognition to the blood in Ming Yue's veins—and dove back into the clouds, trailing sparks like a falling star.
The storm passed, drifting south toward the Himalayas, leaving the air crisp and silent.
They sat on the edge of the dock, legs dangling over the abyss. Ming Yue produced a bag of dried plums from her sleeve and shared them.
"Your brothers are loud," Ming Yue noted, watching Sirius try to throw a plum pit into a passing cloud.
"They're alive," Vega said, chewing the sweet, salty fruit. "We don't get much of this in London. Our sky is mostly grey, and our magic is mostly hidden in basements."
"A cage is still a cage, even if it is made of history," Ming Yue said. She looked at Regulus, who was quietly eating his plum. "You are the quiet one. Do you want to fly?"
Regulus looked up, startled. "I... I don't have a broom."
"Brooms are for sweeping," Ming Yue scoffed.
She whistled.
A gust of wind swirled up from below, condensing into a small, playful cloud spirit—a wisp of vapor with curious eyes.
"Go on," she nudged Regulus. "He won't drop you."
Regulus hesitated, then reached out. The cloud nuzzled his hand like a dog. A slow, genuine smile spread across his face, breaking his usual mask of reserve.
Vega watched them—Sirius shouting at the horizon, Regulus petting a cloud, and the dragon princess watching over them like a benevolent apex predator.
For a moment, the war didn't exist. Voldemort didn't exist. The weight of the House of Black didn't exist.
"Thank you," Vega said to Ming Yue. "For this."
"They needed air," Ming Yue shrugged, her golden eyes softening. "And you needed to remember that magic isn't just for fighting, Vega Black."
She stood up, brushing dust from her silk robes.
"Come. The sun is setting. If we are late for the banquet, my grandfather will lecture us on punctuality for three hours. And he has a voice that can crack stone."
Vega stood, pulling Sirius back from the edge and helping Regulus up.
"Let's go," Vega said.
As they walked back across the bridge of clouds, the setting sun turning the world into fire and gold, Vega felt the Hum in his blood settle into a deep, contented rhythm.
He would fight for this. For Sirius's laugh, for Regulus's smile, for the wonder of a world that held dragons and floating islands.
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How do you guys like this China arc. We're getting to see the wider magical world!
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Power Stones are my blood and bones *nom* *nom*