Thura was a man of his word and kept his promise. In the quiet after hours, when the palace training grounds had emptied and the shadows stretched long across the sand, he taught Sein how to wield a sword. 

Over many months he walked her through the fundamentals, correcting her stance, adjusting her grip, and drilling the same patterns again and again until they became instinct. 

To the impatient young lady, it was frustrating to practice so long on footwork, handling, blocks and simple strikes with no hint of anything more exciting. But Thura remained adamant, unmoved by her repeated pleas to advance.

“Have patience, Sein,” Thura coaxed. “Everything you've learned must surface fluidly, flowing automatically and with absolute confidence.”

When Sein was proficient enough, Thura allowed her to practice the exercises with him, simulating combat, first, moving slowly, then building up to varying speeds. Occasionally, a few men from Thura’s training group lingered after their session ended, staring in astonishment at the slender girl dressed in men's clothing, fencing with her brother. 

Thura focused on teaching his sister techniques that would ensure she could adequately defend herself in any situation. 

“The important thing is, make sure you're the one alive at the end. That can mean pulling dirty tricks and not fighting fairly.”

“Fabulous, that’s what I want to learn,” Sein insisted in a playful tone. “Teach me the dirty tricks!”

***

The thought of Thura, filled Sein with a glowing light expanding in her chest. He was someone who understood her well, and supported her when the storm of conflict raged with her mother. She imagined Thura with his wife, and by now, surrounded by children, living happily in the capital. She wondered whether she had nieces or nephews. 

As time pressed on, Spirit of Cloth’s altar became crowded with offerings as most households became devotees. Sein often found a variety of fruits and rice cakes left out, but after several days, would go off in the heat of the dry season. 

By this time, Sein was aware the locals didn’t have an abundance of food, and seeing this as wasteful, she started to consume the fruits, despite feeling no hunger. Occasionally she tasted the sharp tang of oranges or the sweetness of very ripe bananas. 

The more she ate, the more her taste buds returned. The more her taste buds returned, the more her past life grew clearer. What struck her was the stark contrast between her mortal life and the simple existence of these villagers.

From what Sein could recall, her family lived in one of the prestigious apartments in the royal palace compound. Her father, Lord Hein, descended from a noble lineage of warriors and oversaw the training of the King’s men. His impeccable reputation for honour and skill, commanded respect among the royal family and the lords of the court. 

Her mother, Lady Marlar, was a social whirlwind, who tirelessly visited various prominent families, forging connections and strategic acquaintances at every opportunity. She was driven by her concern that her only daughter might remain unmarried. This was the result of a prediction made by a renowned astrologer at Sein’s birth.

“I am at the end of my tether,” Lady Marlar complained to her older sister, Eindra. “Whatever am I to do?” 

She handed over a delicate roll of parchment. It was a cosmic schedule for Sein’s future. 

In the Central Plains, such forecasts were a common practice for many people, and the paper one’s future was written on, was considered a person's most prized possession. 

There was a strong belief that, ‘the journey is steepest when the destination is veiled, but with a clear view, even mountains shrink’. 

Yet, in Lady Marlar’s case, seeing the future only enlarged the mountains.

“What is all this?” Eindra questioned, furrowing her brows. 

She was an influential figure in Lady Marlar’s life since their mother died of an illness when they were little girls.

“Sein’s forecast is not entirely clear cut. I am told there are many ambiguities clouding her prospects for love and marriage,” Lady Marlar pointed out.

“It is rather odd,” Eindra commented, her dark eyes scrutinising each word on the parchment.

“It is a puzzle indeed,” Lady Marlar sighed. “Only half a man is seen in her married life. How can that be, sister?”

“Ridiculous! I do not like your astrologer. This is proof he has no idea what he is doing,” Eindra grumbled, leaning back in the chair. “You must consult my astrologer, Myint. He will not only give you an accurate forecast but will guide you in what can be done. There are many ritual acts that will drive away any evil spirits that is obstructing the path to Sein’s marital success.”

“I think you are right, sister. I must take action.”

“Indeed, you must before she is old enough to be presented in court. How old is she now?”

“Twelve, next month.”

“Gracious, already? Let me have a look at her. Where is my niece? Sein!” 

Sein had been quietly working on her calligraphy practice, drifting in and out of their conversation. Her brush strokes had become smudged on the pristine page as her concentration shifted to a book on the table. She was drawn to the page of text which described battle strategies used in previous wars. 

How brutal, Sein thought. It was one of Thura’s books.

“Sein!” Lady Marlar’s shrill voice interrupted Sein’s musing. “Come along and greet your aunt.”

Sein lightly jumped up from her low seat and rushed over to the lounge area by the windows. The harsh sun stretched its fingers, trying to claw at the table where the ladies were seated.

“Hello, Auntie Eindra,” Sein greeted with amusement on her face. 

Thura is right, she thought. Our Aunt is a little like a battle axe. I wouldn’t want to mess with her.

“Sein, how are you?” Eindra asked, but without waiting for a reply, she turned to her sister and continued, “I shall organise an urgent meeting with Myint. I am certain he will be able to help. I see she is already blooming into a beautiful lady. She has your fine features and her father’s slender figure. She will have no trouble securing a lord from a prestigious family. Perhaps even the young prince.” 

Hearing this last sentence, Sein’s eyes flicked upward in a wordless expression of annoyance. All the ladies of the court were rolling up their sleeves, elbowing each other out of the way, all in pursuit of the Crown Prince for their daughters.

“Much appreciated,” Lady Marlar smiled, her usual straight back relaxing into the soft cushions. “Indeed, but sister, there are rumours the Crown Prince is to be betrothed to a princess from the South.” 

“How unfortunate!” Eindra exclaimed, her face twisting as though she'd bitten into an unripe fruit.

After a consultation with Myint, Sein was dragged to this or that shrine every week. In particular, the one dedicated to Spirit of Love and Marriage was frequently visited. 

It was the largest and most revered spirit temple in the capital, with snow-white stupas decorated with thousands of tiny golden bells that tinkled serenely in the breeze. Long, shaded walkways and countless marble steps leading to the heart of the shrine were lined with numerous stalls, selling a variety of items, such as fresh flowers and ripe fruits.

On one of these merit accumulating occasions, Sein studied a crowd slowly gathering along the path, seeking to purchase offerings for the spirit. Her eyes followed the extravagantly dressed devotees as they made their way up the steep steps, arms loaded with floral arrangements and incense sticks.

“Sein, come quickly,” Lady Marlar called to her daughter.

Sein was lingering in front of a flower seller, soaking in the sweet scent of roses, jostling with the fragrance of jasmine incense from the next stall. She lightly skipped to her mother who was standing at the end of the walkway.

“All the birds, My Lady?” asked the old stall owner. Despite his advanced years and thinning white hair, his eyes remained sharp and calculating. “That will be three silver coins.” It was an extortionate price but Lady Marlar had no mind to haggle with him. She indicated to Kan, who served the family, to pay.

“Sein, you must free these birds,” Lady Marlar instructed, pointing at the large birdcage, with an arched top, filled with a lively flutter of sparrows. “Take one in your hand and let it go. Do it one by one.”

“I don’t want to touch them, Mama,” Sein replied, fearing the birds may peck at her, as she observed their chirping and rustling wings, creating a constant hum of activity within the enclosure.

“Here, allow me to help, Lady Sein,” Kan said kindly. He was clean-shaven, his dark hair neatly combed, and his gentle eyes radiated warmth. He knelt down and lifted a bird from inside the cage, and placed it in the girl’s hand. “Hold firmly, you will not hurt it.”

Sein was delighted, feeling the pulse of soft feathers, and the warmth of the bird’s body, in her palms. 

“Now let it go, quickly, Sein.” Her mother said, losing patience. “There are many birds to free. Remember to wish them well in your head as you release them.” 

Lady Marlar continued to seek Myint’s advice, carrying out all the necessary rituals and offerings. On top of releasing live birds, she generously contributed to building foot bridges and brought special foods to sacred places to appease Spirit of Love and Marriage, all to ensure Sein’s future would be auspicious. 

Every event her daughter encountered was interpreted for signs and omens. If there were any unfavourable predictions, Myint crafted various charms and amulets to ward off bad luck. These activities became less frequent as Sein became older, and developed a mind of her own.

“Mama, I do not wish to go and see Myint,” Sein said firmly when she was fourteen. “And I do not wish to release any more birds or chant for hours or wear those strange looking charms. Or whatever he thinks I ought to do.” 

Once her mind was made up, Lady Marlar knew it was difficult to persuade her daughter otherwise. Sein’s thinking was much more like her father’s. Lord Hein was a spiritual man, but he didn't seek or follow any predictions, superstitions or rituals.

Despite all the merit-making rituals Sein had been compelled to perform over the years, she concluded nothing had altered the course foretold in her predictions. Even no as a spirit, Sein felt a deep sense of emptiness, a void she dared not examine too closely. 

She quickly shifted her focus to her surroundings, watching the people of Sagyo go about their lives. She marvelled at the simple and straight forward nature of village life in contrast to the complexities of court society. 

Gradually, she discerned the familiar faces of the locals from the anonymous passersby. Some were curious and stopped at her altar to peer at it. It wasn’t obvious which spirit this shrine was for. There was no statue, only a folded up piece of red cloth among the offerings. Others paid no attention at all. 

A woman who appeared to be middle aged, paused in front of her altar. It was the hottest part of the day when most villagers were indoors. Sein studied this stranger who showed signs of having been on the road. The bottom of her long skirt was travel worn and her hair was cloaked in a veil to protect her from the sun. She pressed her hands together and murmured something under her breath. It was a prayer to find her son. She gazed up just where Sein happened to be standing. Her pale green eyes were glistening. 

Those eyes caused Sein to gasp. Zeya!

Memories of Zeya flooded her mind. Wave after wave, it threatened to pull her under. From the very first glance, his pale green eyes, luminous and clear as polished jade, captivated her. As if those eyes had whispered a silent enchantment, that took hold of her heart entirely.