The past winter had not been forgiving. The Zhuang people had braved harsher before, but a foreboding message from the emperor of the newly established Middle Kingdom brought clan morale to a standstill.

Even though the spring flowers had bloomed once more, their luscious scent did little to improve Heian's mood. It didn't help that he had remained awake for the entire night before, fascinated by a shooting star that fell out of the sky.

"These boots are so damn heavy," Heian groaned as he trudged along the beaten, dusty path. His muscular build that drew lascivious looks from village women was just for show; one hour of walking was already taking its toll.

"And?" a voice sounded ahead of him. Its owner didn't bother to look back at the pitiful display. "You should be honored to even be here. If it were up to me, you'd be sewing boots with grandmother."

"Ting," Heian huffed. He turned to the side and swiftly spat into a shrub. A single strand of saliva stuck to his lips, which he promptly wiped away the best he could. "Give me a break brother. We've never been ones to fight. Not among ourselves and especially not for some hick sitting in a high throne."

Ting glared back with menacing eyes. Heian could've sworn that they glowed white for a second.

"I mean, they say the Middle Kingdom has finally been united, after centuries of pointless war. But we were never involved." Heian paused for a moment to catch his breath. "We always watched their bloody battles from the safety of our villages."

"You sure have a lot of energy to talk for someone whose boots are too heavy," Ting hissed, "We only stayed out of harm's way because we fed information about one country to another."

"Right." Heian trailed off. "Information is the most valuable asset in warfare."

"Our people's loyalty was always for sale," Ting continued, "We're lucky. Our last piece of information was delivered with intentions against the Qin. Now that they've won, we owe their emperor our undying loyalty for not killing us all."

"Maybe not our clan, but we're as good as dead."

Ting turned to face his twin brother. Their statures were nearly identical. The only difference was the length of their hair; the former of which had the longer.

His eyes resembled that of an enraged bear. Heian flinched at the very sight of his brother's stare. He could practically kill someone with that alone.

Rather than say anything, Ting tossed his sheathed sword towards Heian. The exhausted boy caught it in the nick of time. "Are you serious?" he piped up in disbelief, "I'm already-"

Ting put his index finger over his own lips, discreetly shaking his head. Heian knew what this meant.

His brother slowly turned around. "Hide!" he whispered apprehensively.

"What about your sword?" Heian whispered back. Ting didn't answer, instead letting his bow fall from his shoulder into the palm of his hand.

A low hanging branch creaked slightly. Ting's eyes gazed upwards, narrowed. Does he plan on engaging in close quarter combat with a bow? Heian pondered. He had seldom seen Ting practice archery.

His brother proceeded to pull a single arrow from the quiver. He gripped it with just the tips of his fingers before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

Another creak, this time much louder, came from the branches of a tree a few paces ahead. Before Heian could even blink, Ting aimed and shot the arrow in the exact opposite direction.

The arrow had hit its mark; a pained grunt could be heard coming from above, followed by the snapping of branches doing little to break the assailant's fall. A small boy plopped onto the ground. His left shoulder bled from where the arrow had pierced.

The boy remained dazed as Ting marched over to where he lay. Heian could not believe what he had just seen. "Ting! Why'd you do that?"

Ting remained silent. "He's only a little boy! Hey- " Heian shouted, taking a few steps in pursuit of his brother, "He needs help!"

The sounds of labored breathing came from the injured child, who looked to be no older than ten years old. To Heian's horror, Ting rested his boot on the boy's throat. Not with enough pressure to kill him, but just enough to force him to realize the severity of the situation.

Heian was about to lunge at Ting when he held his hand up, signaling for him to not intervene. "You're not alone," Ting growled.

The boy continued to struggle. His jade tunic was beginning to turn red. "And you're no child playing in the forest just for fun," Ting said with gritted teeth, "I know that much."

Heian could sense his brother's anger flaring in his eyes, which seemed to glow white once more. Heian opened his mouth, ready to speak, when leaves and branches showered down all around.

Within the flurry of green, the pattering of feet landing on the dry dirt rang through Heian's ears. Some sounded heavier than others, and they came from all directions.

It was at this point that Heian realized the predicament they had found themselves in. A dozen men now surrounded them, swords unsheathed. He sweat profusely as a lump formed in his throat. He glanced over to his brother, who now had a smirk on his face.

Bastard. What's he looking so smug for? Does he realize what he's done?

"Drop the bow!" commanded one, jabbing his sword in the air in an attempt to instill fear. He looked extremely malnourished.

"And get off the boy!" another shouted out of sight. The sound of metal striking the hard ground followed by a grunt of frustration could be heard. Are these men so starved that they can't even hold a weapon?

The men were most likely Zhao soldiers; citizens of a kingdom that now bowed to the Emperor. Strangely enough, none of them had bothered to acknowledge Heian, who still held Ting's sword.

Ting, still smirking, followed their orders. He threw his bow aside and stepped off of his victim. The boy breathed a sigh of relief before scrambling off to the protection of his comrades.

"Now," a third voice boomed, "I think you know why we're here."

"Oh?" Ting answered in a patronizing voice, "Please enlighten me then, because I sure as hell don't know."

His gaze narrowed, focusing on the man who dared speak to him in that manner. Heian could've sworn that his menacing glare pierced the poor victim through the heart.

"Come on! Otherwise, why are you wasting our time?"

A droplet of sweat stung Heian's eye. His heart was beating out of his chest; there was nothing he could do to stop his poor excuse of a brother without possibly making the situation worse.

"Well?" Ting pressed.

The frail man gulped as his false bravado crumbled away. "Stop your attempt at aiding that tyrant."

"Or what?"

"W-we kill you." His voice quivered. It was clear that his words were mere folly.

Ting stared back at the man with wide eyes, his smirk growing into a grin. He then let out a small chuckle, which quickly evolved into maniacal laughter. The Zhao soldiers all around began mumbling to each other with some becoming visibly uncomfortable.

"What's so funny?" the same man piped up as he propped up his sword.

Ting ceased his laughter. His fists tightened and his jaw clenched shut. In that moment, the faint white glow in his pupils lit up, roaring to life. The man stared in awe as Ting mouthed the words:

"You're finished..."

The feeling of anger flowing through Heian suddenly melted into terror. In an instant, the ground beneath Ting came ablaze. A sudden shock wave knocked each of the soldiers off their feet, scattering them and their weapons. The trees all around disintegrated, their leaves becoming ash in the blink of an eye.

"Ting!" Heian cried out. He had barely managed to keep from being tossed over himself thanks to Ting's sword, which he drove into the ground and held onto for dear life.

To his horror, the colorless flames worked their way up, enveloping Ting's entire body. A heat more intense than anything Heian had ever felt now violently radiated off of his brother.

Most of the soldiers who could still move fled. But one stood up defiantly, trying desperately to hold his ground. That soldier turned to Heian. "What's happening to him?" he yelled.

Heian, at a loss for words, didn't answer. Never had he seen such an explosive display from a human, let alone his brother. He felt his skin beginning to sear from the sweltering heat. Despite the pain, he refused to budge.

"Ting! Answer me! Ting!"

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Zhao soldier step toward the inferno. His uniform had caught on fire and his helmet began to crack.

"What are you doing!" Heian shouted. His throat burned with every breath he took. The burning embers that pelted them had become too much to bear, yet the soldier continued to struggle forward on his hands and knees.

"You!" The poor soul finally turned to face him. His strange, glowing violet pupils were equally as menacing as Ting's.

"Please," the soldier pleaded, "help me! I-" With each word, his voice weakened as though his very soul was being stripped away. The skin on his arms blackened as they faced the brunt of Ting's hellfire.

Heian could only watch helplessly as the ill-fated man attempted to scream, his tears of agony evaporating as soon as the immense heat claimed them.