When the sun rose, the earth glistened in a red glow, spreading blood across the lands and steeping light into all it touched. That day, fourteen years ago, Xue Li had lost everything she held dear.

***

Growing up, she was always a wild child. She would fight whenever and whoever she could. It didn’t matter if it was the innkeeper, the rice vendor, the jewelry man—she loved fighting. She would sometimes even pick fights: she would go to town, provoke the boys, and then beat them senseless. It was like she was born with a bloodthirsty desire to destroy.

She would go on long walks and refuse to look at the moon, hating how it hung above her head. She had once even told her sister that she wanted to capture the moon and hide it away, so that it could no longer stare down at her. Her sister had found her talk crazy, and when Father found out, he forbade her from speaking like that.

“You speak like a violent conqueror,” he had told her one day. She’d laughed when he said that.

Violence: it was something that stemmed from her blood. She was born a monster, and each day she grew as one. Xue Li had been told that her family had a violent upbringing. The Jin family, who harbored the Black Blood arts, was one of the hidden families of the Huo empire that held magic arts. There were about a dozen others, but her family was known as the most bloodthirsty and ruthless. Her ancestors were monsters that thrived off bloodshed; in fact, everyone who harbored magic were monsters.

Father had told her that she had inherited that bloodlust. She had often heard him praying for her to be cured of it. After all, she had the most potential in the family. The Black Blood arts were evident within her, but not so much her siblings. She could feel it within her veins since she was a child, and Father feared what that meant. He didn’t want to make her into more of a monster, but he had an obligation to teach her.

Whether he taught her or not, it didn’t matter, since she learned most of the arts by herself. Father tried to limit how much she could learn, but he couldn’t have been prepared for how fast of a learner she was. Still, he slowed her training in hopes that she wouldn’t turn out like one of her ancestors. Stories were passed down her family about what they used to do and how they used their power. Some would rival demons and cause fights amongst them, others slaughtered entire villages over petty offenses. Most became war heroes—or criminals—and killed legally.

He didn’t want her to become like that, even though she was already showing signs of being just like them. However, no matter how much she trained—with or without Father—nothing could’ve prepared her for what happened when she was twelve years old. The day she lost everything, the sun was shining bright.

Birds flew over her head in flocks, forming a V-shape. Xue Li watched them from behind the window panes. Father was sitting in the center of the room beside Lin, her sister, and Fuhua, her younger brother. She drummed her fingers over the window sill and ignored them; Father was angry at her, again, since she had beaten a man in the market yesterday. He still wasn’t done lecturing her, though.

“Xue Li,” he said when she continued to listlessly stare out the window.

She stiffly glanced over her shoulder at him. His lips were flattened to a straight line. She wanted to avert her gaze, but instead she defiantly held it. Why was he always stopping her from gaining strength? She wanted to be the strongest there was. If she could conquer the world, she would do it. Why did he always try to stop her? He was the problem. “Yes, Father?”

“You’ve been gifted to be born into this family,” he rumbled, his fingers clenching together into fists. Lin, who was leaning against Father, inched away, her eyes widening at his tone. Even Fuhua, who was too young to understand what was happening, shrank at the anger Father exuded. “Time and time again I have to tell you to control yourself. When will you learn?”

“Father, I didn’t do anything bad,” she said. “It’s not like I killed him.”

He laughed mirthlessly. “So you think that because you didn’t kill him, you’re in the clear? Xue Li, picking fights isn’t right.”

“Men do it all the time.” She shrugged. “Why can’t I?”

“Because you’re the heir to the Black Blood arts,” he snapped. “You can’t go around fighting people.”

“I didn’t even use it against them!”

“You will, someday.”

“But I didn’t.”

“Xue Li! Don’t talk back to me,” he warned.

She stamped her feet. “It’s not fair,” she said, her voice growing darker by the second. She could feel the energy pulsating beneath her skin, as if a beast was pounding against her to free itself. She wanted to release the darkness writhing within her, to quench the unquenchable thirst within her soul. She clenched her fists together. “Why is it so wrong to want to fight? Why is it wrong to want to be strong? I want to be the strongest—there, I’ve said it!”

He rose to his feet in one fluid motion, a vein on his forehead throbbing. “Xue Li,” he said in a barely controlled voice. “It’s wrong to want that without a reason. Why do you wish to be the strongest? To fulfill what? Your ego? There will always be someone stronger than you. Fighting without a reason is wrong; bloodthirst is wrong. Killing is wrong. These shouldn’t be things that I have to continuously teach you every day. This should be part of your moral compass!”

She pursed her lips together. “If I have strength, why not become the best?”

“For what purpose?”

“I . . .” She couldn’t come up with an answer. Why did she want to be the best? She wasn’t sure. “I just want to,” she said, her anger spiking. “Why does it matter? I want to be strong—”

“It matters; if you’re going to inherit the Black Blood arts, you need to have morals! I can’t have my daughter rampaging on a killing spree. You will one day have to teach your children the Black Blood arts; do you want to create an army of killers? Like we used to do centuries before? Those were dark days for the Jin family. I won’t have my daughter become a monster like them.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but there was a knocking on the door. Father’s eyebrows came together and he turned towards it. But before he could come close to opening it, it was jerked open. The door slammed against the wall and splintered off its hinges.