The Stars Will Tell You

Tonight, the starlight was too bright—so bright it was unnatural. Those stars that had not shifted for thousands upon thousands of years had all moved tonight. Not one or two, but every star, all of them leaving their original positions and moving to an orientation he had never seen before.

Why?

Stars did not shift for no reason. Fate did not change for no reason.

Something must have happened. Something must be happening. Something must already have happened.

But he could not remember.

That sharply defined face had grown blurred in his memory. That tall figure had become hazy in his memory. That indifferent voice had become distant in his memory.

He only remembered the outline of a person, an outline standing amid the starlight, wrapped in radiance.

Vassago's expression softened, and the corners of his mouth lifted slightly into a smile. In that smile was relief, gratitude, and a warmth beyond words, like sunlight in autumn.

"It was you."

His voice was very soft, as soft as a sigh.

"Situ Xuan."

Far away, in the Demon Race's Holy City, inside Demon Empress Palace.

Feng Xiu sat on the throne, his right hand pressed over the fist imprint on his chest. That fist mark was slowly healing; new flesh grew beneath the skin, pushing the sunken bones back into place. A trace of blood clung to the corner of his mouth. It had already dried, leaving a dark red streak across his face.

He rose from his seat, walked to the window, and pushed it open. The night wind poured in from outside, stirring his black hair. He looked at the falling meteors in the night sky, at the dissipating auroras, at the stars returning to normal.

His right hand moved away from his chest and hung at his side,