I rubbed my eyes. A light breeze was blowing through my hair, it rustled in the wild grass to disappear into the wind. A farmstead could be seen down in the valley. Home? I felt tired though, so tired. “Let me rest a bit before I go home, Mom, Dad”, I thought. They could wait. Sometimes it feels best to be just slothful. I lay under a lush apple tree, bathed in the bright sunlight, and reminisced.

Dad said the sun is always warmer here at the frontiers. It isn’t filtered by the smog, which the Iron Palm Steel Mills and the Golden Crow Pill Plants produce. There is no large man-made structure blocking the sun like the Hua Hill, Tai Tower, or Kunlun Heights do in the city. Some people live in perpetual darkness, fighting the neverending mold and enduring the persistent sickness it brings. If the people emerge from their pits they have to graciously greet their betters from the large sects: ‘Thank you venerable to be able to rot in your shadow’.

My father wasn’t easily angered. But he clearly had his own experiences in Heaven’s Gate, which led him to find happiness at the frontiers. Back home, to his own fathers’ farm. “Only the occasional lonely cloud came around to greet your grandfather”, he used to say. I didn’t know much about my grandpa but he was a well-respected bio-cultivator who fought tooth and nails to free this land from the control of the mecha beasts. As long as he was alive no mecha beast ever ventured into our property again but it changed abruptly when he died. Dad did not inherit his fathers’ innate spirit, he integrated a cyber spirit instead. Even though it was a mighty B-rank Flash-flood Dragon, he barely could keep up with their attacks. There was talk about abandoning the farm. My mom always pleaded to put our safety first but dad was stubborn and prideful. He didn’t want to see a lost cause even if it was presented right in front of him.

Sometimes I visited grandpas’ grave with my father. It was located on a hill so grandfather could watch over the valley even in death. We planted an apple tree at his side so he wouldn’t get hungry at his watch. They were his favorite.

Every time we visited father began to ponder. He tried to teach me valuable lessons: “Meadow, you might be too small to understand yet, but let this old man tell you a story. Once a young man, no, a boy, was eager to prove his might to himself and the world. He fought every young man in his village and won. He then traveled to the nearest town and fought every willing duelist and triumphed over them. In his naivety, he thought himself the strongest in the world. Fool that he was, he joined the struggle to immortality in Heaven’s Gate”, fathers gaze was very far away, almost beyond the horizon. He paused for a long time. Not for me to digest the hard topic or for dramatic purposes. No, he struggled to put the truth in words, “I lost. I was utterly beaten. I failed to gain immortality and fled the city. Left everything behind without a second look. I came back here. And you know, my Pa, he welcomed me back with a tight hug. Not one word of reprimand. No question about my strive for glory. He saw me for what I always was and not for what I wanted to become. I want you to know that we, your mother and I, will do the same. You can always come back and we won’t ask why. This is your home. Do you understand?” I nodded and hugged him tightly. I nearly forgot his awkward embrace and earthy smell. He continued: “It doesn’t matter what you become in the future. In the end, grass will grow on all graves. It’s important how you live in the present, my cute ladybug.”

Dad was the picture of an unmoving mountain but his words always were clumsy. I giggled. Mom was so very different from him. More like me, quirky, some might even say a bit strange. She was barefoot all the time. Just thinking how the people of Heaven’s Gate would react upon seeing such a feat! I laughed a bit too much about my stupid joke.

When I was just a little girl I often went out with my mother, to play in nature around our farm. We had a personal little herb garden. She showed me how to take care of plants. She taught me patience. ‘Your harvest will be plentiful if you invest enough time and love’. Lemongrass was her favorite of the herbs. ‘People underrate lemongrass! You can use it for cooking and for soaps and …’, she could go on and on about the perks of that little weird herb. But we did so much more. We enjoyed watching the little cowlings grow, jumped around in puddles when a sad cloud was visiting grandpa's grave, and, of course, we toiled around in the vast grasslands of the frontiers. If anything was opulent here then it was space.

As a kid, I loved running through meadows. Being named after such a beautiful thing made me so happy. Mom always said she wished my future to be green, to be hopeful. It made me happy being loved by my parents and love them back unconditionally. But everything changed when the mecha beasts got through. Mom ran and carried me without effort across the pastures. She reassured me: “Don’t worry! We just have to meet up with your father.” But the fates weren’t favoring us.

A pack of mecha beasts lay in ambush not far from home. They were indistinguishable to me, all rusted and brown. Only a foot-long black dragon with shiny gold plating was exceptional. Ambitious eyes stared at me, not menacing, rather evaluating. Its brethren didn’t seem restrained though. They started their attack. I… I can’t remember. I’m uncertain what happened. I only know that I hugged my mom as tight as I could, so I wouldn’t lose her. A gust of wind was pulling her away. I was holding on the best I could. Something bit my left arm. The shiny snake-like dragon from earlier sunk its fangs deep into me. Pain like burning was spreading through my arm. I had to let go and my mom slipped away. I tried to grasp her again, however, where my arm was supposed to be was just a bloody stump. I shrieked: “No! No! No! It can’t be! My arm!”

I woke up.