Nameless

Prologue

PROLOGUE

MING DYNASTY | CHINA

Deep within his watery cave beneath the River Luo, Huáng Lóng stirred.

It had been a long time since the yellow dragon had been called by anyone, and even longer since he had responded. But now, this man, this mere fisherman who had stumbled upon his lair and begged him for a boon... Well, Huáng Lóng was intrigued by his offer.

And it had been eons since anyone had made him an interesting proposal. So, the dragon could not help but swim out from his cave and stretch his too-long coiled body, blowing out a long stream of bubbles as he made for the surface. Golden scales and fins gleaming in the murky light of the river, he pushed his way up and out of the water.

Huáng Lóng had indeed returned. And the world would never be the same when he was finished.

Clambering onto the shore, he ensured that no one saw him. The last thing he needed was for another one of the mortals, too easily startled or awed by his appearance, to notice him and offer sacrifices of sparrows in exchange for bringing rain to their crops or healing their sick children. Not that he despised his work of delivering rain in exchange for the common villagers' oblations—it was all well and good, especially since his mere breath brought rain clouds and even thunderstorms, in a pinch—but he had more important things to do.

He had an emperor to crown, and a throne to fill. The Yellow Dragon, being the oldest of his siblings, could occupy himself with fulfilling the wishes of humans when it suited him, and he had no problem with being the wise benefactor for countless villagers or granting the prayers of poor peasants. But his true purpose in this mortal realm had yet to be satisfied; he had yet to crown a worthy emperor since the days of the Yandi, that line of emperors descended from the dragons themselves.

Each dynasty had failed him. And this one was the worst of all.

Hence, he needed to find the man who had summoned him and begged for his help. Huáng Lóng would bring about peace and prosperity to the land, as was his duty, and then go back, satisfied, to his watery slumber.

As he shook the water off his scales, adjusting himself to being on dry terrain after millennia underwater, the dragon's whiskers quivered. He scented something...

Something ancient. Powerful. And certainly something that no mere mortal ought to be toying with. Yet someone was. Who could be so foolish as to bring this sort of magic into the mortal realm?

The luminous pearl embedded into his neck began to vibrate; a sure sign of something dark and ominous headed his way. He snarled, glancing every which way with his golden eyes to see the source of the threat.

But there was nothing. Only a man emerged from the clouds of mist in front of him, paddling a sampan down the river. He was a stocky wall of a man, even in comparison to the dragon's lithe but enormous form. As the mist cleared and the man's features came into focus, Huáng Lóng eyed the scar running down the side of his arm; the stoic expression on his face; and the sword strapped to his side.

Not a mere fisherman, then. But a soldier. Perhaps even a general.

The man stepped off his sampan after pulling up to the dock and tethering his boat. "You must be Huáng Lóng."

The dragon snorted. Who else would I be?

"You will find that I am a man with little time for jokes." The man stepped closer, the brown of his eyes glinting black in the moonlight. "You may address me as Túfū."

A fitting name for such a man; it meant both butcher and ruthless tyrant.

Why have you summoned me, Túfū?

"I have called you here to complete an important task. The country is on the brink of falling into ruin. Warring factions compete with one another for land; people are starving and in desperate need of rain amid all these famines and droughts; and worst of all, the emperor cares about none of it, as long as he has his women and his wine to keep him lulled into hedonistic oblivion." Túfū spat his last few words with obvious disdain.

The pearl at his throat thrummed, warning him of danger. Yet he could sense no other clear signs of a trap here. If anything went wrong, he could simply disappear back into the River Luo and never emerge again.

What do these catastrophes have to do with me, Túfū? I may be a dragon, but even I cannot bring this nation back to the glory of the Tang Dynasty.

"That's where you are mistaken. I have a feeling you can do just that. If you agree to work with me..." The man took another step closer, and he saw now that the scar on Túfū's wrist was not a scar at all, but a dark, brutal tattoo of a dragon, winding around his forearm and ending on his palm. Only the head, all fierce horns and whiskers, was visible beneath his black sleeve. "Together, we could rule the world. Together, we could restore China to her former glory. Together, we could bring peace and security to the people again."

Am I to believe you are a mere philanthropist, seeking to bring good to the people? Or that you care so deeply for the entire nation and their woes?

Túfū stiffened at the dragon's comment. "You may not agree with my words. But I assure you, you shall regret trying to cross me."

I am merely trying to understand your motives. A man so easily driven to anger should not make hasty threats.

"I care more for my nation than you could ever realize." A strangely cold smile curved the man's mouth.

Then you shall have my word. I shall help you restore China's strength and might.

He mistrusted the man. But a dragon was bound by his word, and Huáng Lóng had made the mistake of giving Túfū his.