"Worthless scum! A spineless coward you are!”

Mao loomed over a table where a young man sat hunched over. He looked up at the girl, adjusted his glasses, and then seemed to cower down even more.

"I know the order of the Qing Dynasty. Our father is a great emperor, and you, sister, are his finest military commander." The young man sighed briefly. "But this time you chose the wrong country to invade."

"What do you mean, you pathetic little worm — do you know anything about military affairs?" Mao was shaking with rage. "The Land of a Thousand Dawns must fall!"

"But... the dead gods will punish us! Their cult..." A sharp slap in the face interrupted the youth, causing an echo to ring out in the office and a stinging pain in his cheek.

"Their gods are long dead! I'm not afraid of some fanatics, and I despise your fear of them. You will come with us, Qing Long!

Two months later, the army of the Qing Dynasty crossed the border into the Land of a Thousand Dawns. The campaign went smoothly, and a month later, having captured numerous cities and settlements in brutal battles, General Mao's troops triumphantly entered the capital.

The subjugated crowd parted reluctantly as the cavalcade of invaders advanced towards the main building, the Pagoda of the Living Dead. Dismounting, Mao resolutely threw open the main gates of the temple. Her generals and officers followed her inside, while the rank-and-file soldiers remained outside to stand guard. Only the stocky porters and the two soldiers escorting the reluctant Prince Long were allowed to follow the commanders inside. Within a few hours, the Pagoda had been completely plundered. The looters had bagged up so many ancient artifacts, precious stones and pieces of jewelry that the porters were having serious difficulty carrying them all.

"Sister, you must not do this. The Adepts of the Dead guard the peace of the gods, and they will punish us for our intrusion." Prince Long resisted the attempts of his sister to stifle him and kept repeating the same thing. "As long as we don't run into the statue of the Dead Master. If only..."

The two soldiers continued to lead him on into the complex ignoring his words. The group soon reached a dead end. They turned back and tried another corridor — another dead end. Hours went on like this, the invaders searching for a way forward, or a way out, or any kind of way, without any success. Finally, the labyrinth led the group into a sealed chamber, in the center of which stood a magnificent statue. The Dead Master! As soon as the soldiers toppled the statue at Mao's command, a figure in black rose up eerily from the ruins.

"It's easy to insult the dead... Isn't all that treasure a little heavy for you? I'm afraid you won't be leaving here with it. Or without it, for that matter..." the sinister old man muttered.

"Kill him!" ordered Mao, turning towards the exit. But there was no way out — the door had been replaced by solid wall. The girl quickly got her bearings and shouted sharply, "Don't shoot!"

"Wise move," the old man smiled toothlessly as the officers lowered their weapons. "But the Dead Gods have already spoken. They won't let you out, no matter how hard you try. Even the legendary Qing gunpowder cannot break through this wall. Although, you have options...

"Speak while you still can!" Mao growled.

The old man chuckled.

"The door will open if you give up something that you don't need, on the condition that I choose it myself. Don't be afraid, I’ll only take something you truly consider unnecessary."

"Here, take it! You can have any of this junk we brought with us." The girl ordered her troops to throw their bags full of treasure at the old man's feet. "So where's the exit?"

The old man didn't move, didn't take anything from the pile of treasure. But all the same, the heavy wall moved aside, revealing the passage outside, where for almost a day the alarmed soldiers had been trying in vain to break through to the commanders. The events that took place within the temple did not make it into any of the reports. The Qing Dynasty army had achieved its goal and conquered the Land of a Thousand Dawns.

But fate did not let Qing Mao rest on her laurels for even a day, for Prince Long fell suddenly and mysteriously ill. She raced back to her native empire and launched a search for the best healers in the land, fearing what her father's reaction would be, as the heir to the dynasty was on the verge of death.

Mao knew he was neither poisoned nor wounded. Just two days before her brother had been as healthy as an ox. "Damn you, Long! What am I going to tell the emperor?" Mao lamented, looking at her brother's pale face. "You're always getting in the way. Just as useless and annoying as ever!"

Hearing the words that had just come out of her mouth, the girl suddenly understood the true meaning of the deal that she had made in the Pagoda of the Living Dead. The old man had taken her brother from her. "Oh, to hell with him anyway, no big loss," she muttered, peeved by the cunning ploy. "But my father will have me beheaded!"

Day followed night, night followed day, and guards and servants kept a constant vigil over her brother. Mao often sat next to her brother in his chariot, as it raced across the land, looking for the cure. Somewhere in her heart, she hoped he would pull through. Long-forgotten memories from her childhood resurfaced. One day, little Long almost died defending her older sister from a rabid vorgar. Then there was the time when they played a terrifying prank on the cook in order to sneak into the kitchen and steal some candy. And once Long gave her a bamboo flute as a birthday gift, the name "Mao" childishly scratched into it. And then... she realized that thinking of her brother no longer drove her mad, as it normally did. "Dead or alive, you won't take him from me, you damn gods! Give him back to me!" whispered the girl forcefully.

The closer they got to home, the worse Long felt, and the more painful it was for Mao. The caravan stopped for the night at a modest inn. Throughout the evening, the princess was haunted by a sense of impending disaster. What was it? Concern for Long? Her care? Perhaps even love? "Dead Gods, I will not give you my brother!"

Acting on a sudden impulse, the girl jumped up, grabbed her weapon and rushed into the dying man's room. Pushing open the door, she saw a dark-robed figure looming over him. Mao had only a moment to react. She leaped forward and plunged her dagger into Long's chest.

"Oh, stupid, very stupid," whispered a familiar voice. "You have sacrificed your brother yourself, and thus broken our agreement. You conquered the Land of a Thousand Dawns and destroyed the great Pagoda. But you didn't know that you were just a pawn in a larger game. Your father, like your grandfather and great-grandfather before him, has been terrorizing our country for centuries. We knew that you and your brother would follow in his footsteps. The Adepts of the Dead Gods, the Living Ones, refused to be like you, refused to harm the innocent. We patiently waited for you to come and give us your lives," he murmured.

"What!?" Mao stood over her brother's lifeless body, looking dumbfounded at the old man.

"However, I will still fulfill your request and bring him back to life. But I will do it in my own way. This will be your punishment, headstrong princess. A punishment that you will have to atone for."

The girl's right arm suddenly faded, as if someone had sucked all the color and life out of it. Paralyzed by shock, the girl could only watch as the empty shell of her arm was then filled with light emanating from her brother's body.

"You will forever be inextricably linked to each other, and both of you will suffer. It's up to you how long this pain will last, as well what the future holds for the Qing Dynasty..." With these words, the stranger dissolved into the darkness.

When he heard what had happened, the emperor flew into a rage and demanded that the old man be found. Mao, meanwhile, turning everything that had happened over and over in her mind, came to some important conclusions, and decided she needed to make a change. She renounced all of her titles and joined the ranks of the Guardians, preaching peace, not war.

Standing alone on a hilltop overlooking the land, she whispered quietly to herself and to the wind: "Forgive me, brother." Behind her, the Guardians were setting up camp. "You were the most worthy of all of us. I made mistakes, I admit it. Now I must atone."

The ghostly hand of the former princess flashed briefly as if in response. With a sad smile, Qing Mao turned back towards the camp.