The Immortal Arena had calmed, but
calm was never truly calm when Shen Yueli was involved.
She sat at the edge of a floating garden suspended by vines of light,
absentmindedly spoon-feeding her
daughter-who had, for reasons
unknown to mortal or immortal, decided
she would only eat fire-infused pudding
today.
" No, not the blue flame," Yueli muttered,
stirring the concoction in a glass bowl
laced with protective sigils. " The golden
one. You liked the golden one
yesterday."
The baby squinted, unimpressed. She
flicked a spark at her spoon and turned it into a tiny flaming sword.
Di Yan, ever the dramatic celestial husband, strolled in wearing his newly gifted cloak of dusk- feathers and stars.
" She's forging weapons at breakfast again?"
" She's a girl of standards," Yueli said,
holding up the flaming spoon. " And hunger- fueled rage."
The baby suddenly levitated, turned upside down mid-air, and cackled.
Yueli sighed. " That's it. I'm putting this entire breakfast under spiritual arrest."
Before Di Yan could reply, a scroll poofed into existence in a burst of golden ink, floating gently into his hand.
He unrolled it and frowned.
" Another test?" Yueli guessed.
" No," Di Yan said slowly. " A summons.
From the wardens of Balance."
Yueli blinked. " Those old shadow freaks
that live on the edge of time and act like
they invented the concept of destiny?
" The very same."
The air shifted around them— dense,
silent, charged.
Suddenly, the baby burped a mini sun,
and the clouds around the arena
scorched pink.
" Guess she's ready," Yueli said, rising.
—
The wardens of Balance didn't live in a
place so much as a moment.
They were stationed in a realm between realms, a fold in time stitched shut with cosmic thread. One second they were walking through a glowing portal. The next— they stood in a hall of silver sand and ticking clocks.
Seven hooded figures loomed before them,
neither male or female, neither solid nor spectral. Their voices echoed from everywhere and nowhere.
" You have walked the path," the center Warden said, " but the path watches back."
Yueli crossed her arms. " Can the path watch while I nap?"
" This is not jest," said another. " The Starborn child has disrupted the Veil."
" She's teething," Yueli replied. " You try managing that chaos and keeping the Veil intact."
Di Yan placed a calming hand on her back.
" Let's hear them out."
The baby floated lazily in the air,
clutching her flaming spoon like a wand of doom.
" She is nearing her first year," the third Warden said. " The closer she gets, the more her core aligns with the prophecy."
Yueli tensed. "The prophecy again."
" You were told it begins when she turns
one. But beginnings… are messy things.
The clocks in the chamber ticked backward.
Suddenly, everything flickered. The room glitched. For a breath, they saw something else— a burned world, cracked stars, Yueli weeping in armor soaked in blood.
The vision vanished.
Di Yan stepped forward, jaw tight. " Was that a warning?"
" No, said the first Warden. " It was a memory… from a future that can still be undone."
Yueli stared at the baby, whose eyes sparkled with unspoken knowing.
" What do you want from us?" she asked.
" Guard her. Prepare her. And choose."
" Choose what?"
But the Wardens were already fading.
Time swallowed them, leaving behind only the scent of starlight and ash.
—
Back in the arena, Yueli stormed across the training field, vines coiling behind her like angry shadows. Di Yan trailed behind, their baby in one arm and a small box in the other.
" They keep giving us riddles,"
she grumbled. " Like we're in some celestial
scavenger hunt."
Di Yan smirked. " You love puzzles."
" I love winning puzzles, not being toyed with by time ghosts."
He handed her the box. " Then open this.
It came from the Wardens."
Yueli opened the lid— and inside lay a simple silver bracelet. No gems. No markings. Just… quiet power.
As soon as she touched it, her vision shifted.
She saw her daughter standing on a battlefield— older now, still small, but terrifying radiant. Power bloomed around her like galaxies crashing. And beside her… stood Yueli. Different. Wiser. Weathered.
" You have to let her choose," said the older Yueli. " You have to believe she won't choose the fire."
The vision vanished.
Yueli looked at her baby, who was now trying to chew on Di Yan's armor.
" Right. No pressure," she whispered.
—
Later that night, under a moonlit dome carved from clouds, Yueli and Di Yan curled around their daughter in a nest of spirit wolf fur and floating flowers. The baby slept between them, making the occasional war cry in her dreams.
Yueli stared at the sky. " We're not ready."
" We've never been ready," Di Yan murmured, kissing her temple. " But we keep winning."
She smiled. " Because we cheat."
He laughed softly. " Because we love."
The baby stirred, mumbling in her sleep.
One hand reached toward Yueli's face.
The star mark on her forehead pulsed faintly— then flashed.
Yueli stiffened. " Did you see that?"
Di Yan nodded. " She's glowing again."
But it wasn't power this time. It was a call.
Far off, across the sky, a strange bird cawed three times. A celestial owl. The stars above them rearranged.
And somewhere— far beyond the arena,
beyond the Veil— a pair of unseen eyes opened.
Watching. Waiting.
The countdown had begun.
Their daughter was not just Starborn.
She was the first of her kind.
And every realm had just felt it.