Nostalgic Memories

The pale face of the moon peeked out beneath a blanket of clouds, casting an eerie light onto the world of blues and greys.

Inside Wei Mudan's study, a single candle provided a fragile light. Even this, was in danger of going out from a puff of wind. Wei Mudan sat on a chair beside the candle, her hand absentmindedly stroking the carved guard of her dagger.

In the dim light, all that could be seen was the glint of her glittering black eyes.

The soft moonlight streamed through the open window, slowly dimming as the clouds finally overtook the moon. Wei Mudan shifted her body carefully into a more advantageous position, and unsheathed the dagger. She would use a sword, but she would like to avoid breaking her worldly possessions. Inside a room, swords were far too cumbersome.

The weak light of the candle went out, plunging the room into pitch darkness. Wei Mudan narrowed her eyes and froze.

Footsteps. Soft, but still there, creeping towards the open door leading to her living quarters. Wei Mudan listened carefully, trying to distinguish the number of intruders. One.

One, she could handle easily.

At this point in time, Wei Mudan's eyes had adjusted to the dark, making out slight figure in front of her door. Silently, she approached behind the back of the intruder.

With a flash, her dagger was at the intruder's neck, digging into his skin and drawing beads of blood. He began to struggle under her grip.

"Stay still. My blade is quite sharp. If you struggle, who knows what will happen," she threatened, pressing the blade against his skin.

The man trembled under her grip and loosened his grip on the sword he held, dropping it to the ground with loud clatter. Wei Mudan scowled. Swords were hard! That impact probably left a scar on her hardwood floor…

Wei Mudan remembered the first time she gazed upon this room. The smell of freshly cut wood lingered in her memories, along with the calming voice of her brother. The room he designed especially for her birthday. Every little trinket inside, every chair carved, was one that her brother designed whilst thinking of her. Wei Mudan's heart grew warm at the happy memories.

"Wei Qing, do you like it?" he had asked, a weary but proud voice that embedded itself in her memories.

Wei Mudan could do nothing but cry and hug him tight. Once more, the nostalgia faded and pain quickly took its place. Before the tears threatened to come, Wei Mudan tore herself from her flashback and concentrated hard on the assassin in front of her.

The sound of the sword dropping had alerted Hua'er, who came bursting through the front door with her signature obsidian butterfly swords drawn. She heaved a sigh of relief upon seeing Wei Mudan safe and sound, and quickly searched for rope.

Soon, the intruder had been bound and a few large lanterns lit, clearly illuminating the man's face.

Wei Mudan studied his fearful face. It was no one she knew of, nor did the clothes indicate where the man came from. The techniques the assassin used were cheap, meaning that this assassination was one that was hurriedly planned. Especially if the other side had not checked on her level of combat.

Holding the dagger close to his cheek, Wei Mudan leaned closer to the man.

"Who?" she asked, her eyes narrowing into a glare.

The man bit his lip and turned away, refusing to answer. This caused the blade to slice across his face and draw blood.

Wei Mudan stood up. "I do not need your measly information anyways. It would be a waste of my time. Hua'er."

Hua'er stood beside the man, her butterfly swords held dangerously around the man's neck. The man began to lose his calm facade, beads of sweat appearing on his forehead as his widened eyes pleaded.

The blades edged closer to his neck. "Wait! I'll tell - I'll tell you everything," he sputtered out, his facade shattered into pieces.

Wei Mudan continued walking towards her living quarters. At the doorway, she turned her head back.

"Did I stutter?" she said coldly. She threw a glance towards Hua'er. "Do not let blood stain this room. Drag him outside if you wish."

Hua'er replied, "Yes, Miss." To avoid any unnecessary noise, Hua'er gagged the intruder and easily dragged his thrashing body outside.

Wei Mudan closed the door behind her. She leaned against the door with a sigh, welcoming the cool feel of the wood beneath her fingers.

Fighting against assassins like the man was never easy. It was incredibily tiring. If needed, Wei Mudan would not wish to take a person's life away. But, her hand was always forced. If she did not kill, her head would be the next to leave her shoulders.

Assert power. Assert that she was not an easy target. Who had sent the assassins this time? The Emperor had no need to send mere assassins after a small target like her; he still believed that she had some use as a pawn. The Empress was unlikely to lower herself down to deal with her, who was of no threat to her position nor her children's. None of the Consorts were idiotic enough to come up with such a simple plan.

That left the imperial court ministers, and the other princesses and princes of the royal family. Wei Mudan was willing to bet that it was the latter and not the former. Someone felt threatened.

Or... Wei Mudan paused for a second.

There were still the military families. The old general Han led the Second Army, which was lent to her for her to prove her worth. However, Wei Mudan dismissed that thought as soon as it had come. As of now, she was still a sapling.

None knew of her potential, nor the depths of the fiery lake in her heart.

Inside, some part of her, cried pathetic tears. The small, innocent her that had been cruelly sacrificed in order for this cold facade to shine through. The bubbly girl who had only wanted to learn how to fight: where did she go? That part of her wanted nothing more but to cling onto someone and be loved.

That part of her, like trembling, was a weakness. Weakness was the one thing she could not afford to show, for others would take opportunity and strike, instead of lending a helping hand. Such was the life of one in the Imperial Palaces.

The struggle to the top was not only a difficult one, but also one of great loneliness. In the morning, she would have to leave her mansion and back into the Golden Palace, the palace where she spent the majority of her childhood.

Once back in the Imperial Palaces, Wei Mudan would have to tread carefully. For the schemes of the harem sometimes ran even deeper than the strategies of the battlefield. The pale light of the moon lit up the night scenery once more.