The cave was a sanctuary of stone and silence. For a few precious hours, the world outside, with its smoke and screams, ceased to exist. The only reality was the deep, consuming darkness and the shared warmth of their bodies, a small bastion against the mountain's cold heart.
Li did not sleep. He sat with his back against the rough wall, listening to the rhythm of Mei's breathing as exhaustion finally claimed her. His own body was a tapestry of aches and strains, but his mind was a churning sea. The memory of his father's lesson—find the center—was a steady rock in that storm, but the waves of rage and grief were relentless.
He held the jade sphere, rolling it between his fingers in the dark. It was no longer just a memento or a promise. It was a question. Why? Why was this simple stone worth the annihilation of his entire world? The "legend" Mei spoke of was a ghost story, a tale to thrill children on a dark night. It had no business manifesting in flesh and fire.
As the first grey light of dawn filtered into the cave, revealing the small, stark space, Mei stirred. Her eyes opened, and for a blissful second, they were soft with sleep. Then, memory returned, crashing down like a landslide. The softness vanished, replaced by a hollowed-out pain that made Li's heart clench.
"We should move," she said, her voice raspy. "They'll be searching the slopes in the light."
Li nodded. They had no food, save for the handful of bitter moss they had scavenged. Their water was low. The High Pass was still a formidable barrier ahead, and their hunters were below.
They crawled out of the cave, blinking in the weak morning sun. The world was washed in pale gold and deep blue shadow. From this height, they could see the vast, rumpled blanket of the forest below, and the thin, grey scar of smoke that still rose from the valley of Dragon's End. The sight was a fresh knife twist in Li's gut.
They began to trek along a narrow game trail that skirted the cliff face, moving ever higher. The air grew thinner, making their heads light and their breaths short. The path was a treacherous mix of loose scree and unstable rock. One misstep could send them plummeting hundreds of feet.
It was Mei who misstepped.
A section of the trail, undermined by meltwater, gave way under her foot with a soft crunch. She cried out, stumbling forward. Li lunged, his hand snapping out to grab her arm, yanking her back from the edge as a cascade of rocks and dirt tumbled into the abyss. They stood there, panting, hearts racing, clinging to each other on the precarious ledge.
"That was too close," Mei breathed, her face pale.
Li just nodded, his own fear a cold knot in his stomach. He was about to speak when a sound froze the words in his throat.
It was the distinct clatter of a dislodged stone, but it hadn't come from them. It came from below and to their left.
They both dropped, pressing themselves flat against the rock. Li risked a glance over the edge.
There, maybe a hundred feet below on a parallel ridge, were two figures. Even from this distance, he could make out the distinctive, jagged green of their armor. Azure Dragon soldiers. They moved with a predatory grace, their heads scanning the slopes methodically. One of them pointed towards the general area of their cave.
They had been found.
A cold certainty settled over Li. They could not outrun them. Not on this terrain. Not in their weakened state. The soldiers were fresh, well-equipped, and trained for this. He and Mei were two exhausted, terrified children.
He looked at Mei, and saw the same terrifying understanding in her eyes. This was it. The hunt ended here, on this cold mountainside.
"No," Li whispered, the word a vow.
His eyes darted around, searching for anything—a weapon, a defensible position. There was nothing but rock and sky. Then his gaze fell on a large, precariously balanced boulder, part of the scree slope above the soldiers' path. It was a long shot. A desperate, foolish gamble.
He turned to Mei, his voice low and urgent. "I need you to keep going. Follow this trail. It should lead to a wider ledge ahead. Hide."
"What? No! Li, I'm not leaving you!"
"You have to!" he insisted, his eyes blazing. "It's the only way. I'll lead them away. I'll catch up."
It was a lie, and they both knew it. Her eyes filled with fresh tears, but she also saw the unyielding resolve in his face. The boy was gone. The vessel for vengeance remained.
She gave a single, jerky nod, her jaw clenched tight. Without another word, she turned and began to scramble along the narrow path, her movements swift and silent.
Li watched her until she disappeared around a bend. Then he turned his attention back to the soldiers. They were closer now, their voices faint but audible on the thin air. He could hear their casual, confident tones. They were discussing the tracks they'd found.
Li's heart hammered against his ribs. He focused on his breathing, just as his father had taught him. Be the deep pool. He pushed his grief, his fear, his rage down into the still, cold center of himself. He became a instrument of a single purpose.
He waited, every muscle coiled. The soldiers passed directly beneath the unstable scree slope. It was now or never.
With a grunt of effort, Li shoved his shoulder against the large boulder. For a terrifying second, it didn't move. He pushed again, putting his entire weight into it, his feet slipping on the loose gravel. With a groan of shifting stone, the boulder tipped, then rolled.
It was the trigger for an avalanche.
The boulder crashed into the slope below, dislodging smaller rocks, which in turn dislodged more. Within seconds, a wave of stone and dust was thundering down the mountainside towards the soldiers.
Shouts of alarm turned to cries of panic. Li didn't wait to see the result. He turned and ran, scrambling back the way they had come, making as much noise as he could, kicking loose stones, hoping to draw their attention.
It worked.
A roared curse echoed up the slope. He risked a glance back. One soldier was half-buried, struggling to free himself. The other, however, had avoided the main slide. He was unscathed, and his helmeted head was now turned squarely in Li's direction. With a agility that was terrifying, the soldier began to climb, not following the path, but coming straight up the cliff face, his fingers finding holds where none seemed to exist.
Li ran. He ran until his lungs burned and his legs felt like lead. He burst out onto a wider, flat-topped ridge, a dead end overlooking a sheer drop. He spun around, just as the soldier hauled himself over the edge.
The man was taller up close, his armor scarred and weathered. He didn't draw his sword immediately. He looked at Li, a lone, unarmed boy, panting and cornered, and let out a low, contemptuous laugh.
"The little rabbit has led us on a merry chase," the soldier said, his voice a gravelly rumble. "Where is the girl? Where is the artifact?"
Li said nothing. He stood his ground, his fists clenched. The jade sphere felt like a brand in his pouch.
The soldier took a step forward. "No matter. I'll find her after I'm done with you."
He lunged, not with a weapon, but with a gauntleted hand, aiming to grab Li's throat. It was an insult, a display of utter dominance.
Time seemed to slow. Li saw the move coming. He didn't think. He reacted. He dropped low, under the grasping arm, just as he would have dodged Mei's playful kicks. But this was not a game. As he moved, his hand closed around a sharp, palm-sized piece of shale from the ground.
The soldier, surprised by the dodge, overbalanced for a fraction of a second. It was all the opening Li had.
He surged upwards, not with a warrior's skill, but with a cornered animal's desperation. He drove the sharp edge of the shale into the gap between the soldier's breastplate and his helmet.
It was not a clean kill. It was a messy, brutal, ugly thing. The shale was not a blade. It tore more than it pierced. The soldier screamed, a wet, gurgling sound. He staggered back, clawing at his neck, dark blood welling between his fingers.
Li stood frozen, his hand dripping, staring at the man he had just killed. The soldier's eyes, wide with shock and pain, locked with his for a moment that stretched into an eternity. Then the light in them faded, and he crumpled to the ground.
The coppery smell of blood filled the air. Li's stomach heaved. He stumbled back, tripping over a rock and landing hard. He stared at his blood-smeared hand, then at the dead man. The white-hot coal of his rage was suddenly doused by a wave of cold, nauseating horror.
This was not a story. This was not a legend. This was blood, and death, and the end of innocence.
He had taken a life. The weight of it settled on him, heavier than any mountain. It was his first kill. His first scar, etched not on his skin, but deep into his soul.
From below, he heard the other soldier shouting, his voice closer now.
Scrambling to his feet, his body trembling uncontrollably, Li turned and ran, not as a hunter, but as a haunted boy, the ghost of a dying man's eyes chasing him into the high, cold peaks.