"You are not one of mine."
Ling Qi's head snapped up at the sound of another voice, cold and dispassionate. In the shadow of a shattered doorway stood a figure, shrouded in black. She was unassuming, in stature, little more than a scrap of shadow amidst the graveyard. Her long black hair, matted and tangled, hung to her knees and shrouded her face, and yet, when the figure lifted her head, Ling Qi glimpsed only white bone and a burning red light in an empty eye socket.
Ling QI let out a strangled laugh that was more of a sob. It was crazy that she could recognize what this was so easily. The fear that had shackled her against the king was worn to tatters now "Why? What was this supposed to teach," she snarled at the Bloody Moon, rising to her knees as she shouted at the spirit, her restraint long fled. "What was the point?!"
"There isn't one," She heard Sixiang mutter bitterly in her ear. "Sorry Ling Qi." To her surprise, she felt their slender arms wrap around her shoulders. Were they still in a dream then? "I failed, I didn't see this bitch's fingerprints all over this until too late."
For her part, the Bloody Moon was unperturbed by the rudeness either of them had showed. "You have been coddled child, if you imagine that all or even most things hold a native purpose. It is the duty of humankind to forge meaning from the blind mechanics of the world."
Ling Qi shuddered in impotent anger. She could still taste blood in her mouth, see the faces of the dying in her mind. She could still see the terrible viridian light shining forth from the keep as an horned corpse had been flung from the broken battlements while greenery consumed the survivors. Roots and flowers and crawler vines erupting from everywhere, tearing and….
She took a shaking breath to control herself, resting a hand on Sixiang's. "Please, no cryptic speech," she began clenching her teeth. "What do you want?"
The burning red light in the spirit's eye socket flickered, and she raised a hand, wet and red with blood to cup her jaw. "I wished to inform you that there would be no further offers. You are not one of mine."
"I'm glad," Ling Qi spat, before she could even think about it. "If this is yours." The graveyard looked back at her, empty and stinking of rot.
The Bloody Moon stared at her, but Ling Qi was too exhausted to feel fear at the ominous weight that her gaze held. She could feel Sixiang's arms tighten around her shoulders.
"Vengeance is blood washed away with blood," the spirit replied, skull vanishing behind black tresses as she turned away. "This is its true form, the only ending it can ever bring. Vengeance is the claw lashing out in pain, the bloodied fist crushing a foes skull to paste in the throes of grief, before its owner is slain in turn."
Yet as the great spirit stepped into the shadows, she looked back, and beneath her tangled tresses, Ling Qi saw not a skull, but the face of a steely eyed matron of stern and unforgiving countenance. "Justice is something only humans can define. If you disapprove, then do not merely complain. It is such a troublesome mantle your kind have saddled me with."
Ling Qi closed her eyes, she just… didn't have the energy to decipher what the spirit was trying to say right now.