The moon was a pale lantern, hanging low over Azure Peak.
Shadows clung to the stone pathways like ink, and the sect's night bells had already sounded. Every disciple was supposed to be in their quarters.
Lin Yan wasn't.
He moved quickly but carefully, keeping close to the walls, avoiding the patrolling lantern light of the night watch. His hands were cold despite the warm night — not from the air, but from the weight of what he was about to do.
The jade pendant lay against his chest, warm and steady.
"You'd better not be wrong about this," he whispered under his breath.
The storage hall looked different at night — darker, older, almost as if the years hung heavier in the air. The great wooden doors creaked faintly when he pushed them open.
Inside, the silence was thick. No rustle of cloth, no footsteps. Only the faint scent of cedar and dust.
The pendant's warmth sharpened into a pulse.
Down.
The whisper in his mind was clearer now. It didn't sound human, but it didn't sound hostile either — just urgent.
---
Lin Yan slipped past the shelves and crates until he reached the forgotten door at the back. The dust on the handle was gone. Someone had touched it recently.
His pulse quickened. "Bai Qian?"
He opened it slowly. The stairwell gaped before him like the throat of some giant beast.
One step. Two steps. The wooden door closed behind him, and darkness swallowed the world.
---
The air grew cooler the deeper he went. A faint hum — like distant wind through a hollow — followed him down.
At the bottom, the stairs ended in a narrow corridor carved into the rock. Strange patterns lined the walls — not letters, not drawings, but flowing shapes that seemed to shift when his eyes weren't on them.
The pendant flared. A faint green glow seeped from it, just enough to light the way.
He reached the end of the corridor and stopped.
There it was.
The door.
It was nothing like the sect's wooden gates — this one was stone, taller than two men, covered in carvings of coiling dragons. In the moonlight glow from the pendant, the dragons looked alive, their stone scales rippling when he blinked.
And then he realized… the door was moving.
Not opening — breathing.
The stone rose and fell ever so slightly, like a sleeping creature.
---
Lin Yan's throat went dry.
"What… are you?" he murmured.
The pendant's heat pulsed faster.
Blood.
He stumbled back. "What?"
The whisper repeated. Blood.
A sudden chill ran through him. Was it asking for his blood?
He thought about turning back — about climbing the stairs and pretending none of this existed — but his feet didn't move. He had come too far to stop now.
With a shaky breath, he drew the small knife he kept at his belt. A single cut across his palm, quick and shallow. Warm drops fell onto the stone.
The effect was instant.
The dragons on the door glowed faintly, their eyes lighting like embers. The breathing slowed, and with a deep, rumbling groan, the stone began to shift.
A narrow crack opened down the middle.
From within came a rush of cold wind — and something else.
A whisper, but not in words. It was a feeling. Hunger.
---
Lin Yan's instincts screamed at him to run. But then he saw it — through the widening gap, a faint light deeper inside.
The door opened just wide enough for him to slip through.
Inside was a vast cavern. The air shimmered faintly, thick with spiritual energy so strong it made his skin tingle. Pillars of black stone rose from the ground, each wrapped in faint, glowing chains.
At the center of the cavern, resting on an ancient altar, was a small, perfectly round pearl. It glowed with a gentle silver light — like Bai Qian's eyes.
The pendant against his chest burned hotter than ever.
Take it.
---
Every warning in his mind shouted No. This was forbidden. This was dangerous. This was wrong.
And yet… something in his heart said it was meant for him.
He stepped forward slowly. His footsteps echoed through the cavern. The pearl's light seemed to grow brighter as he approached.
When he reached the altar, he hesitated. "What will happen if I do?" he whispered.
No answer.
His hand closed around the pearl.
The moment he touched it, the cavern roared to life. The chains on the pillars rattled violently, and the ground trembled beneath his feet.
The whisper in his mind became a voice — deeper, older, powerful.
"You've returned."
---
The light from the pearl surged, blinding him. His body felt weightless, his mind spinning as images poured into him — flashes of dragons soaring through endless skies, cities of jade and gold, battles under blood-red moons.
And then… darkness.
When he came to, he was lying on the cold stone floor of the cavern. The pearl was still in his hand, but the door behind him was closed tight.
The pendant was cool again.
Lin Yan stood, his breath uneven. He didn't understand what had happened — but he knew two things.
One: whatever he had just awakened was alive.
Two: the sect must never find out.
As he made his way back to his quarters, one thought echoed in his mind, over and over.
Why did it call me "returned"?