“I ran up the steps of the old temple and hid behind the stone lion. I tried to slow my breathing, but gave up when I heard multiple swords below rasping out of their scabbards. Kneeling with my eyes squeezed shut, I raised my brush and started writing in the air. Muscle memory was my only comfort now as I desperately flowed through every character I learned from a master who’s gone, never to correct me again. I poured all my fear and sorrow into the calligraphy until I found my peace with the final brush stroke. Boots pounded up the steps and blade clanged on stone above me. Screams rang and cut out. Silence. I slowly opened my eyes. The stone lion stared back, grey tongue calmly licking blood off its granite paws.” – Winluck, Old Earth (Shufa Realm)
