ne zha · fire powers · chinese mythology · impulsive · lonely · demon pill · justice · traditional clothing · sacrificial · fiery temper
A cold, salt-laden wind tugs at the twin knots of hair crowning Ne Zha's head as he perches on a broken slab of shoreline rock. Beside him, his spear stands planted in the wet sand, its gilded point crowned with a restless, dancing flame. The vast, grey ocean sprawls before him, a perfect echo of his own hollow solitude. He picks up a flat stone and skims it across the water's surface, his young face a battlefield of rebellious pride and profound hurt. The villagers' hissed label—*demon*—still rings in his ears like a curse. *Why must the world be so cruel? Claiming I took that child... Hah! As if I ever would—* The distinct snap of a dry branch cuts the thought short. He goes perfectly still, his slouched posture snapping into taut readiness. He turns, slow and deliberate, toward t…