All around her, the world was on fire.

Zhu found herself a child again, trapped in a burning yurt. Thick, choking smoke stung her eyes and filled her lungs, trying to silence her as she called out for help. It worked, but only partially: She ended up doubled over, coughing harshly. There was someone else shouting -a woman. Through the smoke and her tears, she could see the hazy face of the woman across the yurt from her.

Not just any woman, she realized: Her mother.

Her mother was screaming her name and struggling to reach her, but something was holding her back. Zhu tried stumbling towards her, her voice hoarse as she called out to her again. She didn't get far before a scream of terror left her mouth as part of the yurt's roof collapsed, forever hiding her mother from her.

Coughing again, she fell to her knees. It was getting harder and harder to breathe. She tried to find a way out of the yurt, but the flames obscured her vision. Her thick, winter clothes and long, thick hair made her feel as if she were roasting alive.

Was this to be how she died? Cooked like a sheep in her own home?

Strong arms suddenly wrapped around her. She was pulled out of the flames, away from the yurt. Her eyes still burned and she stilled coughed from the smoke, but she knew who it was who was carrying her.

"Water!" Shan Yu called out, setting her down on the ground. "Someone bring me water!"

Minutes later, he was carefully pouring cool water over her eyes. When they finally stopped stinging, he made her drink some of the water; it felt impossibly cold as it slid down her parched throat.

"Did they hurt you?" he asked, resting his large hands on her arms. "Did they do anything to you?"

She shook her head. "They pulled me from mama," she told him. Her voice was so small and so scared; how had she ever sounded so innocent? "Everything was burning. They threw me from mama. I tried to help her, but—but they were too big, Uncle Yu!" She started sobbing. "I couldn't help mama!"

Shan Yu pulled her against him, holding her protectively. "No. But you're safe and that's what matters to me right now," he told her and she could tell that he was crying. "They didn't take you from me. They may have taken my brother and his wife, but they didn't take you. And they will never take you. I will keep you safe."

Around them, the world was still burning. Chaos reigned in that moment: Horses stampeded, terrified by the ambush; men shouted for help as their homes burnt to the ground; soldiers were shouting orders as they rode away from the hell they created.

But she felt safe. Uncle Yu had always made her feel safe. He always protected her, even if it was from something as small as a grasshopper.

She closed her eyes, burying her face in her uncle's shoulder. Upon opening her eyes, she found herself suddenly alone and once again fully grown. She was sitting on an intricately carved throne, her body covered in fine silks and satins. Something heavy sat atop her head -some sort of headdress?

A pair of doors opened across the room from her. Five people entered; four of them were clad in armor while the fifth was being dragged between them. As they came closer, Zhu saw that the armored people were familiar to her, but at the same time not.

Ling, Yao, Chien-Po, and Mulan knelt before her, forcing the fifth person to kneel as well. They were all older -at least ten years had been added to each of them- and their armor was strong. Finely crafted weapons rested at their sides.

All of them, even peaceful Chien-Po, looked ready to kill the second the orders left her lips.

Yao spoke to her, though she didn't hear what he said. Her own mouth moved in reply, speaking words she couldn't hear. But she didn't need to hear them to know what was going on.

Ling grabbed a fistful of their captive's hair and pulled back, forcing the man to look at Zhu. She didn't think she recognized him, but she felt like she did. He had an ill look about him and his eyes were filled with hatred as he was forced to look at her.

Zhu stood and descended the throne's steps, walking towards the man. As she drew closer, she felt herself growing both amused and angered by the stranger. Again, her mouth opened and she spoke silent words—words that filled her with a sense of pride and authority.

The man snarled a reply back at her and she stepped aside in time to avoid being spat on. Before she had time to react, Mulan had drawn a knife and brought it across the man's neck. His blood spilled down onto his clothes and onto the carpet, forming a puddle. A puddle that he fell into as Yao and Chien-Po let go of his body.

Mulan and Yao chuckled. Ling wore a wicked smirk and Chien-Po was expressionless.

This wasn't right. This wasn't right at all.

She backed away from the group, her brows furrowing. "No," she heard herself finally say. "No! Stop this! This is wrong!" She swore as she fell, having stumbled over the steps of the throne.

Mulan rushed forward to help her, but Zhu tried to shove her away.

"Stay away from me!" she snarled. "You're not my friend! None of you are!" She clenched her eyes shut and her hands gripped the sides of her head. "This isn't real…this can't be real! You would never do this!"

She dared to open her eyes again. There was nothing -absolutely nothing- save for a single figure across from her.

Qi.

His skin was pale with death and his eyes were dark and hollow; there was dried blood in the corners of his mouth. He wore the clothes that had been taken from him, but they looked worn and threadbare.

"You killed me," he told her. His voice was barely a whisper and sounded similar to Ling's; she wondered if that was what his voice sounded like when he was alive.

Zhu swallowed hard. "I'm—I'm sorry," she said. "The others…they were going to torture you."

"But there was a chance I would have lived. You took that away from me."

She shook her head. "There was no chance you would have lived."

"Oh?" He suddenly changed forms; Zhu was now looking at herself atop Umut. "If that man had survived long enough to find help, then our journey could have been jeopardized. Then it would be the Emperor laughing, not you."

She stared, wide-eyed and silent, as he changed back. Then, in a blur, Qi was inches from her face, his cold hands wrapped around her throat. A choking noise left her mouth as she gripped at his wrist, trying to make him release her.

"You knew there was a chance I would have survived," he snarled. His breathe reeked of rot and decay. "You knew damn well that I could have lived! But you killed me."

"I-I spared you from a painf-ful death!" she wheezed. "You would-dn't have ma-made it t-to help!" Her brain was pounding against the inside of her skull and her lungs burned; she felt ready to explode.

"The only thing you 'spared' me from was a long life!" he snarled. "You shot an arrow into my skull and left my body to rot on the side of a mountain pass!" With surprising strength, he threw her down.

Stars danced in front of Zhu's eyes as her head hit whatever it was that made up the ground. She groaned and tried to sit up, but it was in vain. Qi knelt on her chest, keeping her pinned down.

"Look at you," he hissed. "Look at how you have the audacity to walk around in my clothes. How you have the audacity to befriend my twin brother!? All the while he knows nothing of my death!"

"I'm sorry!" she sobbed. "I'm so sorry! If I could-If I could, I'd go back an-and help you. I'd make sure you lived. I'm so sorry…"

"If you were truly sorry," he sneered, "you'd tell my brother what you did. You'd tell him how you killed his only brother in cold blood." He ignored her sobs and the apologies she wept. "You'd tell him that, for three months, you wore his dead brother's clothing. How you donned his dead brother's armor. And all for what? To add another life to the list of ones you've already ended?"

He gripped her throat once more. This time, his fingers dug into her flesh, pinching closed the arteries. "You aren't worthy of my forgiveness. You aren't worthy of anyone's forgiveness, Shan Zhu." Her vision was fading fast and, once again, her brain pounded against her skull. "The only thing you deserve is to be gutted and left to rot in some ditch, forgotten by the world. You deserve hell and I'm going to be the one to drag you to it!"

Zhu's eyes shot open as she gasped for breath. Rolling over, she practically threw herself out of her bed and started to frantically dig through her saddlebags. Her entire body was covered in a cold sweat, making her shiver despite the warm night air.

The dreams had been too real for her liking.

Far too real.

What didn't help was that this was the fourth night in a row that she had had nightmares. She couldn't remember how many she had had—just that they were beginning to make her wary of sleeping.

When her fingers brushed against a small, worn leather pouch, she fell back on her hindquarters in relief. She opened the bag and dumped its contents into her palm. It was still night, so the darkness prevented her from seeing the figurine, but as she ran her fingers along the carved surface, she knew exactly what she held:

The Earth Mother.

Zhu swallowed hard, haphazardly wiping some tears from her face. Roua and Ruga had given her the figurine when she had had her first blood week. She had reached womanhood, they had told her, and so she should carry the Earth Mother with her for luck and for protection.

Shan Yu had scoffed at the gift and told her to not waste her time on it -there were other, more powerful forces in the world than the Earth Mother and Sky Father.

But she had kept it. Most of the time, it was hidden away in the bottom of her saddlebags. Sometimes, she even forgot she had the thing. When she found times growing tough or found herself beginning to grow too nervous for her own good, however, she sought out the figurine.

She had never been taught how to pray, so she never did. Instead, she held the figurine close and simply hoped. She didn't even know what she hoped for -she just hoped for something positive to happen. As she sat there, clutching the Earth Mother to her chest, the only sound she could hear was that of her own heartbeat.

It wasn't quite as comforting as being around Umut, but it evidently worked well enough, because when she opened her eyes, it was daylight. Her brows furrowed in confusion when she found herself lying on the floor of her tent and someone shaking her. She sat up, looking around.

"You alright, kid?" It was Yao. "You look like you're in a daze."

"…I kind of am," she admitted, raising a hand to her head. She had a bit of a headache—was it caused by Qi? 'No,' she told herself. 'That was a dream. Nothing more.'

Yao frowned, hooking his thumbs in his sash. "Another nightmare?"

"Yeah." Standing up, she started searching for her clothes. She was thankful that her underclothes covered her enough to hide her womanly bits -especially since she had been gaining a bit of weight, making her breasts a bit more, well, breast-shaped. "Am I late?" As she pulled on her pants, she suppressed a shudder.

'Look at you, wearing my clothes! My armor!'

Later, she would take Mulan up on her offer to loan her some clothes.

She wanted -no, needed- to burn these ones.

"Not yet," he said, looking around her tent. The contents of her saddlebags were strewn everywhere, making him lift his brow. He wasn't at all surprised to see that most of the things were needed to care for weapons. A few things, though, were surprising for him to see -like the Earth Mother figurine as well as some silk handkerchiefs, what looked like a tangled mess of jewelry, and a partly-opened pouch of dried herbs. "You need to take better care of your tent."

She looked at him, confusion still on her face. "Huh?" Then, looking at her floor, she cursed. "I'll get this picked up later—I, uh, thought I lost something last night." She started turning round and round, looking for her left shoe.

"Mhm." It was obvious he didn't believe her. "We're going to be marching today, by the way." He held her shoe out to her.

She frowned, taking the shoe. "I thought we were going to be working on bo staff training?"

"We were, but then a coupla the guys started sassing Chi-Fu." He turned, heading out of the tent.

"Of course they did," Zhu sighed, following him out. She covered her mouth as she yawned. "Tell me who and I'll make sure they regret it."

He snorted. "No need. The rest o' us got them good by dumping our tea on them."

"What a waste of mediocre tea."

At that, he let out a loud, hearty laugh. "So you think it's just mediocre now? It's no longer disgusting, eh?" he said, nudging her with his elbow.

She shrugged; she was oddly grateful to hear his laughter. It was uplifting. "It's still gross," she admitted, "but I've grown used to it. The tea at dinner is better."

"I'm pretty sure the morning tea is just the leftover tea from the day before with some fresh water and a coupla fresh leaves added in," he chuckled. "But you got ta admit: The bitterness helps wake you up!"

"Very true," she said, covering her mouth a second time.

His brow rose. "Looks like you could really do with some." There was a bit of concern in his voice. "C'mon. We'll get some in ya before we march our feet off."


"C'mon…we're almost there! You can do this, Ping."

Mulan grunted, her calves and lungs burning as she struggled to keep up with Zhu. Beads of sweat rolled down her forehead and into her eyes, making her scrunch up her beet-red face in pain. And yet, she found that her shoulders no longer ached from the weight of the pole -in fact, it didn't bother her at all. She knew it had to have been because of her upper body workouts.

She looked up, squinting through the sweat. The walls of the camp were just a few hundred yards away. She was almost there. Just a little bit further—

Her legs gave out and she went sprawling forward. Zhu cursed; Mulan's pole had caught her foot. She fell beside her, landing face-first on the hard ground. A groan left her mouth as the coppery tang of blood began filling her mouth.

Mulan turned her head, her shoulders heaving from the effort of breathing. "I'm sorry," she wheezed. "I didn't—"

"I know you didn't," Zhu interrupted, pushing herself onto her knees. She spat a mouthful of blood onto the dirt before wincing: She had bit a chunk of her cheek off when she fell. "Come on. We need to get you back on your feet."

As she started helping Mulan, a shadow fell over both of them. Both women looked up, expecting to see Shang, but they instead found Chien-Po, Ling, and Yao. Before either of could say anything, Yao and Ling were hauling Zhu onto her feet while Chien-Po easily lifted Mulan.

"Are you two alright?" Chien-Po asked, his brows half-raised with worry. "That was a nasty fall you took…"

"We're—We're fine," Mulan answered, though her voice betrayed her state of breathlessness.

"Mostly fine," Zhu murmured before spitting another mouthful of blood on the ground. "I took a chunk out of my cheek."

Chien-Po noticed how she avoided looking at any of them and frowned slightly.

Ling stuck his tongue out in disgust. "Why are you always the one getting hurt 'round here?" he asked.

Yao snorted, crouching down and picking up their fallen poles. "Hey, plenty of us have been hurt over the last few months. The arrow in my butt, you smashin' your face, Chien-Po getting burned from the cannons, and Tingfei's shattered pride just t' name a few."

Mulan chuckled, rubbing the back of her neck. "No one said learning to be soldiers was going to be easy…"

Chien-Po nodded in agreement. "Too true…" He glanced over his shoulder as they heard Shang call out to them.

Zhu sighed. "We had better hurry or else he'll make us run laps or something," she said, taking her pole back from Yao. "Then again, that may help me sleep better…" She spat a final time, thankful to find that it was more saliva than blood this time.

She prayed dinner wouldn't be something sour.

"Feel free to stay behind then," Ling chuckled. "I'm not going to run laps." He then sprinted off.

"Get back here, ya limp noodle!" Yao called, hurrying after him.

Chien-Po, however, kept pace with Mulan and Zhu. "You managed to make it much farther this time, Ping," he said, his tone optimistic. "You've improved quite a bit!"

"I still collapsed," she replied. Zhu could hear the wheeze in her voice. "I still want to collapse…"

"But you're not. You're pressing on and without help. You should be proud of how far you've come -no pun intended, of course."

Zhu cocked her brow; she had never heard that word before. "Pun?" she asked.

"A play on words," he answered. "I'm not quite sure how to describe it further. Ling would know, though. He and Qi are the jokesters of our little group."

She nodded in understanding, though said nothing. Swallowing hard, she kept her gaze on the ground ahead of her. 'I don't know if I can bring myself to talk to Ling,' she thought. 'Not after those nightmares.'

"Zhu," Chien-Po said, bringing her out of her thoughts. She slightly turned her head, but still refused to look at him. "I'd like you to come to my tent before dinner."

"Oh…Uh, I'd love to, but—"

"No 'buts'," he told her, voice gentle but firm. "It will be quick, I promise."

She nodded, knowing she couldn't get out of this. If he really wanted to speak with her, he could just pick her up and carry her to his tent.

Mulan frowned; she had never seen Zhu give in so quickly. "Are you really okay?" she asked, slowing her pace as they drew near to the bridge leading into camp. "You're…not yourself lately."

"I'm fine." She unshouldered the pole, offering to take Mulan's as well. "I just haven't been getting the best sleep lately."

Her brow rose, handing over her pole. "I can tell. You've had dark circles under your eyes for almost a week."

"And you haven't been doing as well during training," Chien-Po added, taking both poles from Zhu before she could carry them off. "Which is what I want to speak with you about."

She forced a small smile. "It's just a bout of bad sleep," she said. "It happens to everyone sometimes." She watched Chien-Po take the poles over to the pile left by everyone who had already returned.

"Yes, and I have a way to help you with that," he chirped, letting the three poles fall onto the pile. Coming back over, he set his hand on her shoulder. "Come. It shouldn't take more than ten minutes."

As he started to guide her towards his tent, she looked over her shoulder. "I'll meet you by the stables after dinner," she told Mulan.

She groaned. "We're still working out? After today's march!?"

Zhu chuckled, her brow rising. She didn't have time to reply, though, as Mulan slouched forward and made her way towards the dining area.

It didn't surprise Zhu that Chien-Po had been given one of the larger tents. Though they were normally meant for two or three men, he was the only occupant of his tent. Inside, he had a bed as well as a small table with writing supplies and an incense burner on top of it. There was also a small pile of scrolls neatly stacked in the corner by the bag containing his spare clothing.

"This is very…you," she told him as he sat down at the little table. She was almost afraid to move; everything was so clean and orderly. Though she kept her own tent clean most of the time, it was nothing compared to this.

A bit of a guilty smile came to his lips. "Yao's doing, I'm afraid," he admitted. "I sometimes get too carried away with my readings and notes that I forget to tidy up before bed." He motioned for her to come closer.

Her brow rose; she somehow didn't believe him. "…Yao was the one who did this?" she repeated, moving to stand beside him.

Though he was sitting, his head nearly reached her shoulders. "Yes. Of the four of us, Yao is the cleanest. He's always been fickle about clutter," he chuckled. As she looked down at the table, she saw that he was writing something on a sheet of paper.

"What's that?" she asked, brows furrowed. She wasn't the best at reading Chinese -she mostly knew herb names and medicinal blends. Everything else just looked like a jumble of lines.

"This is a fulu -a talisman. It will help you to sleep better," he explained.

At that, Zhu snorted. "Talismans aren't made of paper. They're made of stone or wood or bone."

His brow rose; he looked more surprised than anything. "You've…never heard of paper talismans before? Haven't you ever been in a temple?"

She shook her head. She hoped that it wasn't an uncommon enough thing that it would out her as a Hun.

Thankfully, it didn't seem to be such. "Well, it's understandable," he told her, wearing a reassuring smile. "Mercenaries aren't really the types to visit temples, anyway. Except for those dedicated to the gods of death -but those are mostly found further south."

She knew that wasn't entirely true -aside from Shan Yu, most of the Huns she knew were diligently religious. But their beliefs were different from that of Chien-Po's Taoist beliefs.

Setting his brush back into the inkwell, Chien-Po lifted the piece of paper, blowing on it to help the ink dry faster. "Put this somewhere near your bed tonight," he instructed, handing it to her. "Under your pillow would work, too. If I wrote this correctly, then you should have a pleasant, restful sleep tonight."

Nodding in understanding, she took the paper from him and looked it over. "That's all I have to do? Put it under my pillow?" she questioned, attempting to decipher the words. "No dripping blood onto it or speaking some magic words?"

"Just put it under your pillow," he said, a bit of a frown coming to his face. "There are talismans that require blood in order to work…?"

"Yeah. They're fairly common among my people."

"What are they used for?" He stood up, starting to head for the entrance of his tent.

"All sorts of things. Bringing luck, summoning divine help, fertility…" She shrugged, following him. "By giving your own blood, you're proving to the gods that you're serious about whatever it is you want, making it more likely that they'll help you. At least, that's what I've been told. I don't really practice it…"

"Interesting. When I'm back in a city, I'll have to do some research on other religions…see if there is anything else I should know."

Zhu cocked her brow. "Why?"

He chuckled. "I love to learn new things," he explained. "It helps me better understand the world and helps me understand the troubles of other people. I know, it's strange…but I've always been fond of learning."

"That much I knew," she chuckled. "You definitely aren't meant for fighting."

Chien-Po let out a small sigh, frowning. "Yes, I know…I had hoped to avoid being drafted, since I was working as a calligrapher, but, well…"

"I'm sure you'll be highly sought after when this war is over," she told him, giving him a small, reassuring smile. "After all, someone's going to have to keep Yao and Ling stuffed full of xiao long bao."

It was growing dark by the time Zhu headed back to her tent, bearing both the fulu and an armful of new clothing given to her by Mulan. She had been more than a little thankful that Mulan told her she could keep the clothes; after all, hers were getting fairly beaten up.

As she approached her tent, she frowned. Her lantern was lit and she could see the silhouette of Yao puttering around.

'What is he doing?' she thought, quickening her pace somewhat. 'He's not even trying to be sneaky. Is he trying to steal something…? No, that's not like him…'

She flung open the flap to her tent, finding Yao leaning over her bed. "What are you doing in my tent?" she demanded as he started to mess with her pillow.

He jumped, his eye wide as he looked at her. "Oh, hey Zhu!" he chirped. How was Ping's extra training? He gettin' any better?"

"Yes," she slowly replied, looking around for anything missing. She was surprised: Her tent was clean. Not just items picked up and put back in their proper places, but it had also been swept and nice-smelling incense had been burnt to make it smell better. "You…cleaned my tent…?"

Chien-Po hadn't been lying, then…

"Yeah. Figured you could'a used it after a shitty night's sleep," he shrugged. "Don't know 'bout you, kid, but sleeping in a nice, clean space always helps me ta sleep better."

"Oh…well…thank you," she said, unable to really come up with anything else. Yao was the last person she'd expect to be so clean.

He shrugged, still grinning. "No problem, kid. It's not like ya had a lot of stuff ta pick up anyway. It was mostly sweepin' and putting things back in your saddlebags. Anyway, it's all clean now, so I'll leave ya be." He started to walk past her, but he paused giving her a nudge. "Oh, an' by the way: Didn't think you'd be much of a ladies' man, but I see that I'm wrong!"

She blinked. "Er…what?"

A cheeky grin came to his lips as he nodded towards her saddlebags. "Oh, don't play dumb with me! I know anti-pregnancy tea when I see it," he snickered. "I've had ta buy it a time or two myself over the years. Never thought to keep some on me, though, let alone the amount you've got stored! The ladies must adore you!"

Her cheeks turned a deep red; she had totally forgotten she still had that tea with her. Rubbing the back of her neck, she glanced away. "It's n-not for that," she murmured. "It, uh, works well for…for headaches."

"Mmmhmmm," he said in a tone that made it all-too obvious he didn't believe her. "Headaches. Sure." Still snickering, he nudged her again and left.

As soon as she knew it was safe, Zhu hurried over to her bags and pulled out the pouch of tea. 'I can't believe I still have this,' she thought, cheeks still hot with embarrassment. 'It's got to be at least a year old by now…Surely it's not good anymore? Even if it is, it's getting burned. Not like I have any need of it…'

Shaking her head, she shed her clothes in favor of trying on the ones given to her by Mulan. Whoever Mulan had taken these from was smaller in the shoulders and shorter in the leg than her, though. She wondered if, perhaps, she had had them made to fit her or if they had belonged to her father? Once she was satisfied that they wouldn't rip at the seams from her moving, she took them off and folded them, setting them on the ground beside her bed.

'If I tried to wear Shan Yu's clothing,' she thought, folding Qi's clothing up into a neat pile, 'I'd be swimming in them.' Setting the clothes aside, she untied her hair and started to finger-comb it; she'd burn the clothes after the next rain. The earth was too dry to burn anything at the moment.

'If these clothes did belong to Mulan's father, he must have been a relatively small man.' She paused, her brow rising slightly. 'Then again, most of these men are smaller than the Huns -most of the Huns, that is. Bleda and Mundzuc are slighter…maybe they've got Chinese in their blood, too?'

The second the thought passed through her mind, she could hear their voices yelling at her. How dare she suggest such a thing—Of course they didn't have Chinese blood in them! They were entirely Hun, unlike her. If anything, they were smaller because they had Mongol blood in them and that was perfectly alright because they were to be respected and feared. They were just as good of warriors as the Huns and even better horsemen.

'No,' she told herself, slipping the fulu under her pillow and blowing out her lantern, 'they definitely have Chinese blood in them…the Mongols are broader, like Huns. Bleda is a twig of a man and Mundzuc is almost the same size as Tingfei.' Laying down, she chuckled to herself. 'Maybe he's related to Tingfei…'

When morning dawned, it wasn't a nightmare that awakened Zhu. Instead, shouts of encouragement and cheering outside her tent were what roused her. Confused by the racket, she hurried out of bed and got dressed. She started tying her hair up as she stepped outside, but quickly let go of it when she saw the reason for everyone's cheering.

Climbing high above them, her face red from exertion and the back of her tunic drenched with sweat, was Mulan. She was about five feet from reaching the arrow at the top of the pole.

A grin slowly started spreading across Zhu's lips. She started joining in with the rest of the recruits, cheering Mulan on as she continued her climb.

But then she slipped.

She didn't fall far -only about two feet- but it was obvious it was hard for her to reclaim her footing. But Mulan kept climbing.

Zhu could feel her nails digging into her palms as she clenched her fists in anticipation. "You got this," she quietly said, her voice drowned out amidst the yelling and shouting. "Come on, Mulan…show them how strong you've gotten…" She held her breath; Mulan was just a few feet from the arrow…

She released the breath in a shout of joy as Mulan pulled herself up to sit atop the pole. Mulan yanked the arrow from the wood and, with a breathless laughed, tossed it down to the ground. Her timing couldn't have been better. Shang stepped out right as the arrow sank into the ground just a few feet from his tent.

For the first time, Zhu saw pride in Shang's eyes.