A Prologue

"Time is precious… Like a lost soul… as I clasp my hands and cry… your feelings faded by the years… your pictures washed away by time… and each passing day tortures the heart… as I clasp my hands and weep."

A sneer, and then the flash of the moonlight against a blade leaving its sheathe. "What a shitty poem."

"I know, I had recently read it in a book and thought it'd be somewhat poetic to say it before my death," the old man chuckled gently. Silver rays shimmered over his face, reflected off of the pond outside and bounced off of the scales of the swimming koi fish.

The light revealed his bruised, dull eyes set deep in his face. His lips, broken and bleeding.

"God… My blood tastes so foul," the old man chuckled and spat on the ground. A mixture of phlegm, saliva and blood splattered against the floor and seeped into the wood.

"Is that the end of the poem?"

"I… Maybe. My memory fails me. Perhaps there were more verses, perhaps not. It doesn't matter anymore. It was just the fleeting memory of a dying man."

A moment of silence. "Any last words, or is that it?"

"Mo Xieren, my child, I just hope you don't feel too guilty about what you're about to do."

"I won't."

"Then kill me you bastard."

"Gladly."

The howl of a wolf sounded in the distance, and a lone figure left the small wooden hut. He sheathed his blade, brushed the hair from his face and looked up at the moon. His blood splattered robes danced in the wind, and his bottom lip quivered slightly.

"It's done," the young man named Mo Xieren spoke quietly to the night sky.

The stars glimmered brightly, set deep in the darkness, eternal and undying. And then they shifted, as if the hands of God were pulling apart the sky.

The moon was pushed aside, and carved through the sky was a pitch-black void. Starless, lifeless, empty yet filled with an uncontainable power.

And from that void came a face with hollow eyes and sharp ears. His neck extended into the darkness, making him appear like a grand floating head. Mystic powers fluttered around his giant form as he looked down upon Mo Xieren.

The young man stood in the woodlands clearing stared up at this face and gulped. "What more do you want from me? Master is dead. It's all over."

Silence. The visage of a god in the sky turned, almost as if to look in the distance.

''I detect something… Unique. ''

His heart skipped a beat, as Mo Xieren looked in that same direction. East. "From the Wu Empire?" He asked with a raised brow.

''No. Further, where the land is less green and the people… uncivilized, to say the least.''

"Are you talking about the Luo Dynasty?"

''Yes. A child has been born, yet I can't see through his destiny. His mother and father are just mere mortals, and it seems they will be attacked by a foreign army in a week's time and die. The child will be killed too.''

"Well what should we do? I mean… What should I do?"

''You will do what your master did many years ago. Find the child, save him, and nurture him. He may be of some use in the future.''

"I understand."

''Go. Don't disappoint me.''