Dust on the road
***
The road stretched endlessly.
Long after midnight, after their breath had calmed and the palace lights faded behind the hills, the three travelers walked in silence.
Mo yao led — silent, sharp-eyed, every step measured.
Yín Shi trailed beside her — cloak dragging through dust, eyes flicking between the stars and the road ahead.
Zhao Lian dragged behind them — his scroll case hitting his back with every step, his sandals completely wrong for hiking.
"I think my toes are bleeding," he said, limping.
"I think I care," Mo Yao replied dryly.
"You don't?"
"I just said I think I care. I haven't decided yet."
Yin Shu glared at Mo Yao, seemingly displeased on how she was behaving to Lian but Mo Yao didn't notice the glare.
***
They made camp beneath a twisted old tree. The moonlight turned the bark silver.
Mò Yáo started a fire.
Yín Shū unpacked the bread and dried fruits she'd stolen from the palace kitchens.
Zhao Lian collapsed on the ground like a defeated goat.
"I wasn't trained for this," he mumbled.
"You eren't trained at all? " Yin Shu asked
"Yes"
"Actually, I studied celestial geometry, ink-weaving theory, dream-state interpretation, and—"
"No one asked," Mo Yao cut in.
He shut up.
***
They ate quietly.
Eventually, Zhao Lian spoke up again.
"When I was seven," he said, "I used to sleepwalk into the old library basement. My tutor said I was cursed. Turned out I just liked the quiet."
Mo Yao blinked.
"That might be the most boring curse I've ever heard of."
"One time, I read a book that screamed when I opened it," he added quickly. "It gave me a nosebleed."
That got a pause.
"Did it say anything?" Yín Shū asked.
"Just one phrase....when the gate opens, the gods will blink."
They all went quiet again.
---
That night, Zhao Lian slept curled up in a cloak, using scrolls as a pillow.
He dreamed.
The sky was full of ink — not clouds, but liquid memory.
He stood in a field of mirrors.
In every reflection, he saw Mo Yao opening the Gate.
Then Yín Shu.
Then himself.
Then… nothing.
No reflections.
Just a voice.
"One will betray. One will fall. One will forget."
He woke gasping.
The next Morning
By the time he opened his eyes, the twins were already awake.
Mo Yao was sharpening her blade with a small piece of bone.
Yín Shū handed him a stale piece of bread.
"You scream like a rabbit," Mo yao said casually.
"Thank you," he replied, uncertain if that was an insult.
They packed quickly.
The road ahead looked longer.
But somehow… less empty.