The Tuhan first rode further in the west, sacking and burning every town, tribe, and city in their path. They collected bolts of silk and bales of tiger skin, amber and jade carvings, saffron, myrrh...and more men to fight in their army.
With dark falling, the Tuhan had retired to their own camps to drink, dance and feast, but none doubted they would return tomorrow to destroy the cities and storm the walls, spreading their power as they pleased.
An uncontrollable grin spread across An Ruo's features that did not reach his eyes. A large fire crackled in the center of their campsite, projecting long shadows on the surrounding area, its flames rising strongly in the black, night sky. The breeze blew cool, announcing the coming of falls cooler days. The aroma of the tall grasses was an intoxicating perfume.
His head fell back a little, exposing his throat. A small smile lifted the left corner of his mouth. After a while, An Ruo's eyes shifted to the Tuhan men dancing with the women they collected. It had been a while since all of them had seen the lovely face and voice of a woman.
While watching, he grabbed a cup of steaming hot red wine. He held it between his hands and sipped it gratefully. The warmth felt soothing as it spread through his chest. The wine was sweetened with honey.
For a few moments, he continued watching the men and women with curved lips, until suddenly the smile disappeared. Drinking the last drop of wine, he licked his red lips and stood up. The men noticed their commander leave with a dark expression. Although they wanted to offer him to join the celebration and possibly take a woman for the night, they kept their mouths shut.
Entering his tent, An Ruo passed his desk and stopped. Seeing something from the corner of his vision, his eyes glanced at a piece of paper on his desk. It was a letter. Those dark eyes of his stared at the writing in the letter in silence. Reaching a hand out, he touched the dark ink.
The shapes of the letters were remarkably gentle, written with expertise and tenderness in symmetrical lines. Just like the man who wrote it. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and braced both hands on the desk.
"Shen..."
At the same time, miles away in the Northern Empire.
The air was still and heavy, thick clouds shielding the stars. The once blue sky transformed into a vast expanse of jet-black. The sea glistened, mirroring the dazzling assemblage of the pale white moon. A trembling gush wind inaudibly drifted across the sky, and through the tents and yurts in the An Clan base.
A pale man sat by the candlelight, his slender, delicate fingers touching the corners of the letter in his hands. A few blonde hairs slipped forward to hang over his eyes as he read.
"Did you hear?" The deep voice of a Tuhan man sounded from outside the tent.
"What?"
"An emissary from the Northern Empire came delivering a message to the Head An."
The one man grunted as if he had picked up something heavy. "Hah? What did he want?"
"I'm not sure...but it seemed like something important since he ordered everyone to step out. He hasn't come out for the last few hours."
The men's voices faded away into the night. A moment of silence passed beside the soulful melodies of cicadas. The pale man watched as the candle burned down and began to gutter. The air grew cold. The wick blackened, and the wax slowly turned to liquid, running down the side and onto the glass plate.
Tapping a finger on the table, the last light of the candle reflected in the man's dull, emerald eyes.
...
