Snow Flower, Fire Storm

VIII

2600 YEARS AGO, THE HEAVENLY REALM

Beautiful. Mesmerising. Breathtaking.

These were the words the dwellers of the heavenly realm used to describe the abode of the Ocean Deity. With its gilded marble walls and sweeping golden stairways, the palace was a spectacular thing to look at. Rosebushes crept up the walls in full blossom, wreathing gigantic blue-glass windows, wrapping around the numerous small turrets and belfries in artful aggression. But perhaps the most riveting aspect of the palace was the water. Beautiful fountains circumvented the palace, the fine spray from gold-sculpted carp lips glittering in celestial light.

That wasn't all: there was water in the air—long, moving coils of transparent liquid that dove and rose and maneuvered around the garden in a set path. And swimming through this ribbon of water was a thousand koi, sleek and sunny-shaded, gliding overhead in the air in their colourless, shape-shifting cage, moving like a flock of birds flying across the sky.

It was one of the most stunning buildings in the heavenly realm, but even with all its grandeur it couldn't be as lovely as it's master. Kind and warm, pure and serene like dew on flower petals—the Ocean Deity was beloved to all.

He ruled upon the oceans, he crafted waves and protected ships, bringing them to safety. While he reigned, never once was a life lost at sea that wasn't marked by Fate.

A school of red-spotted koi circled overhead in a fancy swirl of water as the Ocean Deity knelt underneath, tending to a young sea turtle that had waded out of a pool of brine, its dark limbs resting lazily upon the white tiles that paved the grounds of the palace.

The turtle was acting very sickly and the deity could not uncover what was wrong with it. The food the turtle was provided had always been clean and healthy and there were no predators in the pool. There was no way the turtle was ill or attacked by something.

The Ocean Deity stroked the side of the turtle gently. "Shhh, it's okay. You're going to be fine."

"Sicheng!" called a voice from behind him.

The Ocean Deity glanced around with a beaming face. "Bingwen! You're here?"

Bingwen wore green robes a shade as deep as the darkest part of the forest. He had a pale face, although not as pale as the Ocean Deity's. His obsidian eyes were set deep in his face, always watching the world with a shadow of severity. Bingwen was one of the minor deities in the heavenly realm, yet his pride and bearing matched any of its other denizens.

"Get away from that turtle," said Bingwen, walking along the edge of the pool to meet him. "It's soaking your clothes."

"It's fine," said the Ocean Deity amiably. He smoothed out the folds of his robes—white with extensive gold embroidery. He turned back to the turtle with a woeful look. "Something is wrong with this little turtle, but I can't figure out what it is."

"Nothing is wrong with it," stated Bingwen, his usual scowl hitched in place. "It's just pretending to be sick so you'd coddle it."

"Oh?" said Sicheng, sounding innocently surprised, then his lips curved up in a joyful smile. "That's wonderful! He's not sick!" He stood up, dabbing lightly at his clothes. "I'm glad you're fine, Little Turtle."

Little Turtle didn't appear to be so fine with the situation. Once it realised Sicheng's caressing fingers were gone from its side, it lifted its head to give Bingwen the evil eye.

Bingwen mirrored the turtle's expression for a minute before his focus returned to the Ocean Deity. "Sicheng, can we talk? I need a favour."

"Certainly," promised Sicheng. It was a known fact that the Ocean Deity never turned away anyone who seeked his help. "What is it?"