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The Lady considered him with unreadable, glinting eyes of an indiscernible color. She seemed to be debating how much to tell him.
Finally, she said:
“The most powerful dragons in the universe are those who find the strength to protect their Mates. Moreover, this is true of any mortal or immortal. Secondary to this power is the bond of family. It is not about bloodlines, for that does not guarantee true familial bonds. It is about—”
“Love,” Lancelot said at the same time as the Lady finished her sentence.
The Lady inclined her head in a slight, reluctant nod.
“Yes. That fickle emotion that humans call ‘love,’ which in fact encompasses a myriad of emotions within the concept.”
“It is not fickle,” Lancelot debated.
“It is Eternal.”
“Only on very rare occasions,” the Lady said. “And even when it is True, the sentiment is unpredictable, combustible, turbulent. It is impossible to control.”
“This realm, the Jade Emperor’s rules—it is all about control, isn’t it?” Lancelot deduced.
“It is aboutorder,” the Lady emphasized.
“It is about Balance. Dragons are the most powerful creatures in the universe; only gods possess more magic. They are powerful for a reason. Their role is to keep all else in Balance. Immortals keep each other in check, keep the humans in check as well. Dragons keep the Immortals in check…”
“And gods keep dragons in check,” Lancelot finished.
“But who keeps the gods in check?”
The Lady sighed deeply and looked out into the vista.
Lancelot couldn’t tell whether it was a sigh of frustration, relief or long-suffering weariness. Probably all of the above.
“Do you know how long an eon is?” The Lady murmured, still looking away and into the undefined distance.
Lancelot did not, but he doubted that she really expected him to know.
Shortly, she answered her own question.
“An eon is one hundred twenty-nine thousand and six hundred years. The Jade Emperor attained his Golden Immortality after one thousand seven hundred and fifty eons. Then, after another one hundred million years of Cultivation, he became the Jade Emperor, foremost among gods.”
Well, fuck, Lancelot mused, channeling Arthur when the king was in a mood. That was a long, fucking time.
“I will not bother to explain how long he’s ruled in this capacity,” the Lady continued, “and the many different names he’s been called by the various cultures and civilizations around the human world. But suffice it to say, he has held his post a very,verylong time, and he’s fucking tired.”
Lancelot’s eyebrows flew up at the Lady’s uncharacteristic use of human profanity, as if she was channeling Lancelot just now, but he held his tongue. The “Lady” was in a mood to share, and he did not want to disturb her flow.
She downed her cup of tea like it was something far stronger and perhaps alcoholic in nature (if powerful immortals were susceptible to alcohol), and poured them both another.
“Just as the Jade Emperor inherited his position from one of the Three Pure Ones, so too must he pass his powers to the next Guardian of the Universal Balance. But in all this time, none has proven themselves to be worthy.”
“Not even his daughters?” Lancelot asked.
The Lady slid a strange look his way. It made him shiver involuntarily with apprehension, as if he’d stumbled into a dangerous trap.
“Ah…his daughters,” she muttered.
Another sigh depressed her chest, this one even deeper than the last.
For a long time, she didn’t speak, simply sipping whatever was in the teacup.
