A Complete Short Fantasy Series in Four Chapters

  Author’s Note

  Thank you for checking out *Tears of the Dragon*—a complete, short fantasy series told over four chapters.

  This story blends myth, melancholy, and martial mysticism. It draws inspiration from Chinese folklore, wuxia traditions, and the pain of being cast aside.

  If you enjoy tragic heroines, poetic battles, and dragons not easily defined as good or evil, this story may speak to you.

  I wrote this as a standalone tale, but it exists within a wider mythos I may revisit.

  —From a writer across the sea, telling stories to those who’ll listen.

  “How long must we wait before the dragon appears?”

  Duàn Lán asked, his armored bulk towering over the edge of the cliff.

  “There’s no need to ask pointless questions,” Xiāng Sī replied. “You’re going to die here anyway.”

  Her short black hair danced in the rising wind. She looked about twenty, beautiful in an eerie way—her eyes were mismatched: one emerald, the other amber.

  Though dressed in the simple cotton robes of a healer, her presence had transformed. No longer gentle, she radiated the chilling aura of an executioner.

  Thunder rolled in the distance. The clear sky above the Longming Waterfall quickly turned to stormclouds.

  Duàn Lán, hardened veteran of countless wars, shivered beneath his ornate armor. Something wasn’t right.

  “Are you a demon?” he growled. “Before I kill you, answer me—what are you?”

  ◆◆◆

  A few days earlier—

  “They say the dragon’s tears can cure all illness,” Xiāng Sī said softly. “But it’s just a lie, spread by demons to lure humans to their deaths.”

  Across the apothecary counter, a travel-worn man bowed his shaved head.

  “My sister has lung disease. The doctors say there’s nothing left to try.”

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  Xiāng Sī studied him. Though young, no more than twenty-five, his faded robes and gaunt features spoke of long roads and little rest.

  She nodded and turned to her well-organized shelves.

  “This will help,” she said, setting out the herbs. “Mai Men Dong, to moisten the lungs. Mulberry leaves, to suppress coughing and phlegm. One month’s supply comes to 150 liang.”

  The man’s eyes widened. That was nearly a month’s earnings.

  “I’ll take it,” he said, swallowing hard. “My sister’s life is worth more than coin.”

  As he paid, Xiāng Sī smiled gently and added one more item to the pouch.

  “This is ginseng. Rare, powerful. Crush it into a drink—just a little at a time. With this, she should recover.”

  “T-this is a noble’s medicine… I can’t—”

  “You already paid enough. Let this be a gesture of goodwill,” she said.

  Tears welled in his eyes. “Thank you… thank you so much…”

  “Take care of her,” Xiāng Sī said, her voice like bamboo wind chimes. “And forget the dragon’s rumors. Stay away from the waterfall.”

  As she watched him leave, a rider approached from the opposite path—tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in full battle armor.

  A chill rose at the nape of her neck.

  (Not here for medicine, that one. He’s after the dragon’s tears…)

  Sighing, she exhaled and centered her breath.

  (I am the guardian of the dragon’s law. Please… keep watching me.)

  ◆◆◆

  The man dismounted. He was massive, clad in custom armor that fit his muscular body perfectly. His skin was dark from sun and battle, his black eyes sharp, his face marked by scars.

  To most, he might have seemed a hero.

  But Xiāng Sī smelled blood. Too much blood.

  “Welcome,” she said. “What brings you here?”

  “My sister has lung disease,” he said with a soft smile. “The doctors gave up. The last one told me… to seek out the dragon’s tears. I heard a dragon lives near the waterfall, yes?”

  Xiāng Sī’s green eye shimmered.

  “That story is a lie. You have no sister. What is your real goal?”

  The man raised his hands in mock surrender.

  “Well now. You’re sharp, I’ll give you that. No sister. Fine. I’ll be honest.”

  He stepped forward.

  “The Emperor seeks the elixir of immortality. ‘Tears of the Dragon’—that’s the legend. I intend to find it and offer it to him. That’s loyalty. That’s honor. That’s my name—Duàn Lán. Remember it.”

  “Well met, Duàn Lán. I am Xiāng Sī,” she said, smiling. “And if it’s the tears you seek… shall I guide you to Longming Waterfall?”

  Her tone was sweet—almost too sweet.

  “You’d do that?” he blinked. “I… don’t know this land. That would be a great help.”

  “No need for thanks. If a dragon truly lives there, I might be eaten myself someday. And serving the Emperor is every subject’s duty.”

  Her voice, calm and lilting, carried through the wind like a flute.