Chapter 4: The Mortal's Bargain

The morning air tasted of smoke and river mud. Long Jie crouched at the edge of the fishing village, watching three brothers haul nets through the shallows. Their backs bent like old bamboo under the weight. One man's hands bled through the rope wrappings.

Jie had been here three days. Long enough to know their names. Long enough to watch them starve.

"Little lord," a voice called from behind. He turned to find Old Chen, the village elder, leaning on a staff carved from driftwood. "You've been watching my people like a hawk watches mice. What do you want?"

The old man's eyes held no fear. That was unusual. Most mortals trembled when they sensed dragon blood.

"I want to understand," Jie said.

"Understand what? That we're poor? That the river gives us nothing but grief?" Old Chen spat into the mud. "Your kind took our best fishing grounds three moons ago. Said the dragon prince needed them for his trials."

Jie's stomach tightened. "Which prince?"

"The one with the shell arm. The big one."

Long Ao. His fifth brother had always been ruthless, but this—stealing from mortals during the Ascension Trials—was against the old emperor's laws. Then again, their father was dead. Who would enforce them?

"The trials don't require stealing," Jie said carefully. "Each prince must complete a series of tests. Conquering territory isn't one of them."

Old Chen laughed. It sounded like stones grinding together. "Tell that to the prince who burned three boats last week when the fishermen refused to leave."

Heat crawled up Jie's neck. His father had built the Nine Realms on balance—dragon and mortal, spirit and flesh, power and restraint. What his brothers were doing now wasn't conquest. It was butchery.

"Show me where he's camped."

Old Chen studied him for a long moment. Whatever he saw made him nod slowly. "Follow the river north. You'll find his fortress in the Serpent's Bend. But little lord—" The old man's hand caught Jie's wrist. His grip was surprisingly strong. "If you're going to challenge him, do it properly. My people have suffered enough."

Jie pulled free gently. "I'm not here to challenge anyone. I'm here to learn."

The words tasted hollow, even to him.

---

The Serpent's Bend was exactly where Old Chen had said it would be. A fortress of packed earth and stolen timber rose from the riverbank, its walls lined with dragon-lanterns that burned with hungry blue fire. Jie counted twelve guards at the gate. Each wore the crimson armor of the Fifth Prince's personal legion.

He didn't bother with stealth. He walked straight up the main road, past the hovels of displaced villagers, past the drying racks stripped of fish. The guards saw him coming. They did nothing.

"The youngest prince," one said, his voice flat. "We were told you might come."

"Were you?" Jie stopped ten paces from the gate. "And what were you told to do?"

The guards exchanged glances. The speaker shrugged. "Let you pass. The Fifth Prince wants to see you."

That was unexpected. And dangerous. Jie had expected resistance, not invitation. He stepped through the gate anyway.

Long Ao's camp was a study in excess. Silk tents draped with gold thread. Braziers burning imported incense. A dozen mortal women in chains, their wrists bound with spirit-lock cord, kneeling by the cooking fires. Jie's scales rippled beneath his skin at the sight.

His brother sat on a throne of lashed-together boat hulls, cracking river clams with his bare hands. The shell-arm—a grotesque growth of hardened chitin that covered his entire right side—glittered in the firelight. When he saw Jie, he smiled.

"Little brother. Come to beg for scraps?"

"I came to ask you to stop."

Ao's laughter boomed across the camp. "Stop? The trials have barely begun. Father's throne won't claim itself." He threw a cracked shell at Jie's feet. "What would you have me do? Sit in a cave and meditate like you? Grow weak on mortal philosophy?"

"I would have you remember the law."

"The law is dead. Father is dead." Ao leaned forward. "You're the one who always wanted to be human, weren't you? The little dragon who played with mortal children. Who cried when they died of old age." His voice dropped to a sneer. "I'm doing these people a favor. I'll rule this realm eventually. Better they learn obedience now."

Jie's hands curled into fists. His dragon-fire stirred in his chest, hot and hungry. But he forced it down.

"If you want the throne so badly," he said, "prove yourself worthy of it. The trials measure strength, yes. But also wisdom. Justice."

Ao stood. The motion sent his guards scrambling. He walked toward Jie until they were nose to nose. His breath smelled of rot and brine.

"Let me tell you something our father never taught you," Ao said. "Justice is a word mortals invented because they're too weak to take what they want. Dragons don't need it."

"If that's true, then why don't you kill me now?"

The question hung in the air. Ao's shell-arm twitched.

"Because you're entertaining," he said finally. "And because I want you to watch when I win. I want you to know that your precious mortal lessons meant nothing."

He turned and walked back to his throne. "Get out of my camp, little brother. Go learn to fish. Maybe you'll catch enough to feed a village someday."

Jie didn't move. The chains on the mortal women caught the firelight. He could smell their fear, sharp and bitter.

"The fishermen," he said. "Let them return to their river."

Ao paused. "And why would I do that?"

"Because I'll give you something in return."

The Fifth Prince turned slowly. His eyes gleamed with interest. "What could you possibly have that I want?"

Jie reached into his robe and pulled out a jade pendant—the one their father had given him on his naming day. It held a single drop of the old emperor's blood, sealed in crystal. Ao's breath caught.

"The Dragon's Tear," he whispered. "You'd trade that? For a few mortal fishermen?"

"They're not a few. They're an entire village. And yes."

Ao laughed again, but this time there was no humor in it. "You're more foolish than I thought. That pendant could buy you protection. A place in the trials. A chance."

"I know."

"Then you know I'll use it against you."

"I know."

Ao snatched the pendant from Jie's hand. The warmth of their father's blood faded from Jie's chest, replaced by cold. "Fine. The fishermen can return. But if you come near my camp again, I'll have you chained next to the women."

Jie turned and walked away. Behind him, he heard Ao barking orders, heard the clatter of chains being released. He didn't look back.

---

The village was quiet when he returned. The fishermen were gathering their nets, their faces a mixture of relief and suspicion. Old Chen stood at the water's edge, staring at the river.

"It's done," Jie said. "Your people can fish again."

The old man didn't turn. "At what cost?"

"Nothing I couldn't afford."

"Lies." Old Chen's voice cracked. "I saw you give him the pendant. The one you wore when you arrived. The one with dragon blood inside."

Jie said nothing.

"That was your father's," the old man continued. "Your birthright. Your protection. And you traded it for strangers."

"You asked me to help."

"I asked you to fight. There's a difference."

Jie felt something break inside him. A thin, brittle thing that had held him together since his father's funeral. "I can't fight him. He's stronger. Faster. He has an army and a shell-arm and a hundred years of training that I never had because I was too busy learning to read human poetry."

"So you gave up?"

"No." Jie's voice hardened. "I made a choice. The pendant was power, but it was my father's power. Not mine. If I'm going to win these trials, I need to find my own."

Old Chen finally turned. His eyes were wet.

"You're a strange dragon, little lord."

"So I've been told."

"Don't mistake that for weakness."

Jie looked at the river. The water was gray and churning, carrying debris from upstream. Somewhere beyond the bend, the Serpent's Bend, his brother was laughing with his stolen pendant. Somewhere beyond that, seven other brothers were scheming and killing and burning their way toward the throne.

And here he was. In a fishing village. With nothing but his wits and the smell of smoke in his lungs.

"I need to learn," he said quietly. "Your people have survived dragons for centuries. You've been pushed, burned, stolen from. But you're still here. How?"

Old Chen was silent for a long time. Then he reached into his robe and pulled out a small wooden carving—a dragon with nine heads, each one chipped and faded.

"This," he said, placing it in Jie's hand, "is the reason. Every village in this realm has one. We carve them when a dragon threatens us. We pray to them. We remind ourselves that even the mightiest serpent was once a worm."

Jie turned the carving over. It was crude. Childish. But there was something in its imperfection that made his chest ache.

"Keep it," Old Chen said. "And learn this lesson: mortals don't survive dragons because we're strong. We survive because we're cunning. Because we know when to fight, when to flee, and when to give up something precious to keep something more precious safe."

"You just taught me what I gave away."

"No." The old man smiled, and for a moment he looked like a dragon himself. "I taught you what you gained."

Jie closed his fingers around the carving. The wood was warm.

"Thank you," he said.

"Don't thank me yet. You still have eight brothers to face." Old Chen pointed at the river. "And one of them is coming."

Jie turned. A boat was approaching from the north—sleek, black, flying a banner he didn't recognize. A single figure stood at the prow.

The figure raised a hand. Fire bloomed in her palm.

His sister, Long Mei. The Seventh Princess.

She was supposed to be dead.

---

The boat slid onto the mud bank. Mei stepped ashore with the grace of a hunting cat. Her robes were torn, her hair singed, her left arm wrapped in bloody bandages. But her eyes burned with dragon-fire.

"Little brother," she said, her voice hoarse. "I need your help."

"What happened to you?"

"Third brother happened." She spat blood into the river. "He ambushed me at the Jade Pass. Took my cultivation core. Left me for dead."

Jie's blood ran cold. Without a cultivation core, a dragon couldn't gather qi. Couldn't transform. Could barely survive.

"How are you still alive?"

Mei's smile was terrible. "I made a bargain with a mortal witch. She gave me a new core. But it's unstable. It's killing me."

Jie stared at her. His sister, who had once thrown him off a cliff for touching her scrolls. Who had laughed when he broke his wing. Who had never once shown him kindness.

And now she was standing in front of him, bleeding and