Page 9 of For Ever More

“Finding the Waterfall of Eternal Night will be no small feat,” Dian says. “I wish you success.”

“You should. Else we all might die,” Shenming says wryly.

She swats his back with easy familiarity. “We’re in your mostly capable hands then, Captain.”

“I will keep us safe, Dian,” he says on a more serious note. “I’m glad you’re home. You and… your sister.”

He adds the last in a seeming afterthought, not looking at me. I’m not annoyed; this captain is a stranger to me, of course he cares more for Dian. Even my father finds it hard to meet my gaze. As the carriage rolls along a path heading east, I stare out the window. We pass through a town with rows of shops and houses crafted from stone and wood, the roof tiles gleaming. Gardens ring each home, the air infused with their fragrance. Behind us, the marks left by the carriage wheels on the stone vanish almost at once.

“There are so many beautiful gardens here,” Ruilin remarks. “They are often larger than the buildings themselves.”

“It’s the source of our livelihood. Each household cultivates plants for their own use or to trade for what they need.”

“Flowers and herbs?” I ask dubiously. “What about gold and silver?”

“Can you eat gold? Does it heal your wounds or illnesses? Our needs also differ from those of the Three Kingdoms; they don’t have our magic.” Dian shrugs. “If you think these gardens are nice, wait till you see ours. Father grows the most precious plants on the island, many as rare as those of the Elders.”

I straighten, eager to inspect the plants. Dian is right that this affinity always existed in me, even before knowing who I was.

“Does that mean we’re rich?” I ask with a smile.

Dian laughs. “Very. In a way.”

“We don’t compare wealth here.” It’s the first thing Father has said on our journey. He’s been staring out the other window, only now turning to me. “Money doesn’t hold the same importance here as in the Iron Mountains.”

I flush, resentment flickering. “Where I grew up, money was scarce and of great importance—the only way we ate, clothed ourselves, or bought the medicine we needed.”

His face falls, his hands curled over his knees. “I’m sorry, Daughter,” he says in a low voice. “I cannot change your past. But I promise, here you will want for nothing.”

An unexpected lump forms in my throat; I swallow hard. It’s easier to keep someone from your heart rather than allow them in. Once you do, they can hurt you too.

We pass a building with red roof tiles and gilded columns, flanked by statues of dragons, so lifelike their whiskers seem to flutter. Incense sticks crowd a large burner at the entrance.

“A temple to the Sun Dragon, there are many across our island,” Dian says. “Our people often pray to the dragons, offering thanks for their protection. The most important festivals here are the Sun Festival in the summer and the Moon Festival in winter, grand events when the entire island comes together.”

Silence falls again, each more awkward than the last. My father steals glances at me across the carriage, his expression dazed. Maybe he doesn’t know what to say. What words can bridge the years of separation between us? I might be more like my father than I thought, neither of us adept at revealing our emotions.

“Your name. What are you called?” he asks haltingly.

“Yining.”

“This is your childhood name.” He repeats it, the words sounding stiff, unlike when he spoke Dian’s name. “You can have another, a new beginning—”

“I don’t need another name,” I reply, despite not wanting to disappoint him. Maybe my name evokes sad memories for Father, but this is who I am to myself.

“We don’t have to give you another name, we can still hold the ceremony,” Dian says. “The Elders want to celebrate your return, to ensure you feel welcome.”

“They are kind, more considerate than I imagined. I thought they would be stern. Harsh—like the rulers of the Iron Mountains,” I tell them. “Could we explain to the Elders that the ceremony isn’t necessary? I’m not fond of banquets; I used to feign illness to escape them in the Palace of Nine Hills.”

Father flinches at the mention of the place where Mother died. “Regardless of the Elders’ decision, your mother would have wanted this too. It’s why she kept the root of your ring intact, so you could find a way home. She would have hoped for you to embrace our traditions.”

This alone is reason enough for me. “Then I would be glad for the ceremony.”

“It is a happy occasion,” Dian assures me, as the carriage rolls along. “While our family is small, we will invite our close friends. There will be food, drink—and most will bring you a gift,” she finishes triumphantly.

I grin at the thought; my sister is growing to know me well.

“Those are the best events,” Ruilin agrees brightly. “Shall we prepare new clothes?”