The Last Empress [Fantasy/Romance/Adventure | IN PROGRESS]

7. Figment

No one stopped Cassadre when she walked out of the palace gates. The armed guards merely observed her cautiously from a distance, maintaining their stoic formation. They were used to seeing her in and out, running errands for the twelfth Prince. Though, it did seem odd that she carried a bulky material bag over her shoulder at this time of evening. However, the guards were certain Cassadre wouldn't escape. Couldn't escape. That's the way it was in the palace. To serve the royal family, you had to give them something substantial to hold against you. For some, it meant the lives of their loved ones. For others, a secret that if exposed could condemn their entire clan to the Wu Men (gallows).

The palace was a cruel place, and those residing within it, even crueller.

When she first arrived here, Cassa often wondered at the truth of the saying "the walls have ears". But it wasn't until the day Nurse Guo was executed that she saw the true destructive power of Consort Wren's social web. Like a spider weaving between thin gossamer threads, the Consort drew in those who craved power like moths to a flame.

Cassadre makes her way down the market lane, weaving through the crowd easily. Peddlers stand proudly beside their stalls, displaying items ranging from food and candies to hair ornaments, blush and homewares. Fire breathers sprayed bursts of flame into the air and buskers performed tricks with rope and hoops. Due to the odd colouring of her eyes, she receives a few curious glances.

"That girl looks different," a child comments innocently, pulling on her mother's sleeve in an attempt to gain her attention. "Her eyes are blue!"

Cassadre ducks her head, stopping at a street vendor selling paper lanterns and hats. It would soon be mid-autumn and lanterns were created in all sorts of shapes, from the traditional white rabbit to more intricate designs of Chang'e, the Han goddess of the moon. Dropping a string of copper coins onto the makeshift table, she points towards the rack of hats. The old man minding the booth casts a knowing look at her before pocketing the coins and handing over a Weimao (hat with a hanging veil). Cassa nods in acknowledgement, donning the hat before moving on.

Her next move must be planned strategically. She intended to head North, but there was a risk that she'd be recognised, caught and tried by the rebel forces before even getting close to their main camp.

Cassadre closes her eyes, haunted by the sound of a familiar voice in her mind. He was her mentor. Her most trusted advisor.

No, he was even more than that.

He was as close as a brother to her.

He was also the traitor who conspired with Han to bring down the Elanian empire.

Her empire.

Elan was different from Han, both in tradition and values. Elanians believed that all women were sacred descendants of Wu'yan, the blind goddess. Each year, young girls would flock to the Wu'yan Oracle, located in the oasis city of Clarion. The Oracle was a deep spring in the centre of the city's coliseum where a huge white statue of the goddess stood over and protected all that lay in her shadow. Greenery and foliage grew abundantly around the sparking spring, and even flowers bloomed there. Girls who showed promise at the Wu'yan trials were revered as possible vessels for receiving the Vision and given totem bracelets that tinkled whenever they moved. The more bracelets they wore, the higher their family's social status.

But there could only be one true vessel of Wu'yan. A girl who would inherit the Chimaera, a droplet shaped jewel that would light up with the swirling stars of the purple heavens when the Vision was present.

Cassadre reaches up to the brown leather string around her neck, her hand clasping around the smooth facets of the pendant. It remained a dark graphite colour that reminded her of bedrock.