A frail little boy lay in bed. "Divine Sister, my sickness... is it never going to get better?"
"That's not true."
"I heard the Servants talking. They said I don't have long to live..."
"You're going to live a long and happy life."
"Could you hold me and take me for a walk outside? I've lived this long and I've never seen the color of the sun, or the color of the sky..."
"The sunlight is like your hair, and the sky is the color of your eyes."
...
When Sang Luo woke, the fragments of her dream were already fading. The figures within it were ethereal, as if veiled in a faint white light.
She couldn't recall the dream's contents, only that she felt utterly exhausted from the sleep, even more tired than before she'd gone to bed.
"Luo'er, we're here."
Fei Yuan slowly descended onto the iceberg. The majestic Imperial Palace stood there, built block by block from glacial ice that would not melt for a thousand years. It was a stunning sight.
