Xian had never shown much emotion. She'd learned not to early in life, a mere girl still with hopes and dreams still. Back then she'd been happy, even joyful, until her chi became too strong. It cost her a brother, and a blade to her neck at 14 years of age. She still remembered the whispering of the villagers, the smell of sweat, iron and anger coming from the men towering above her. And the sense of fear as the strongest of them raised his blade, only to bring it down onto the rock where she'd been laying, leaving a terrified eagle to rise above and away.
They had condemned a mere child to death for something she couldn't control, something she wasn't allowed to learn or improve on.
The girl would have given up right there, had it not been for a sense of anger burning Inside her, keeping her going. As an eagle she'd learned to hunt, and had survived, finding control over the curse that lay on her. And after a bit she saw the curse to be what it was, a gift.
She might have become a powerful warrior, traveling from city to city to learn, teach and fight in secret, yet every great person overestimates themselves once on a while. In that way her own weakness had lead soon her into Bori Khan's hands, and her own naïveté had kept her there.
So Life had taught her to be resilient and strong, yet also how to freeze in a way. How to be silent and accept her fate without fight.
That was why people called her Bori Khan's dog, or a witch. Words only spoken with hatred, fear, or disgust. She was just another weapon Bori Khan owned, and he'd wield her as he saw fit.
Though she despised them all she was trapped in promises and threats, never daring to break the web of lies and danger that spun around her. Until one person changed this.
When Xian had first met Mulan she'd seen herself. Herself when she had still been free, the fire Inside her burning of hope and fierceness, not hatred and despair. And brave. She knew she wasn't as brave as Mulan, would never be, yet seeing the young woman walk her path, unwavering, gave her courage she had not known to be inside her.
And this was what brought her to a thick oaken door. The only thing between her and her goal, so easily surpassed with the simples of magic tricks. A few silent seconds and she was in, standing in front of a dark bed.
Her knife poised over Bori Khans throat she halted for only a second.
"If the witch is how they see me, then maybe the witch is who I shall be."