The wind howled through the jagged cliffs of the Crimson Ravine, a deep scar in the earth that split the northern forests from the rest of the Yulan Continent. Far below, dark waters churned violently, their surface broken only by sharp rocks and ancient debris. No one who had ever fallen into the ravine had returned. They called it the Ravine of No Return.
At the edge of the cliff, bound by thick rope and bloodied from repeated beatings, stood a boy barely sixteen. His name was Li Yun, and he trembled not from fear, but from cold rage. His clothes were tattered, his lips split, and one of his eyes swollen shut.
"You should have known better," sneered a youth dressed in silk, a fine sword at his waist and a wicked grin on his face. This was Zhao Feng, son of the city lord. The so-called young master.
"I only took a book... food," Li Yun rasped. "You were wasting it—"
A sharp kick silenced him, sending him to his knees.
"A thief dares to lecture me? That book was my family's heirloom! You touched what was mine, and now you pay the price."
Zhao Feng gestured to the two guards behind him.
"Throw him in."
Li Yun had just enough time to suck in one final breath before strong hands lifted him by the arms. A heartbeat later, the world was nothing but wind and falling.
He hit the lake hard. Pain exploded in his chest, his limbs flailing as icy water swallowed him whole. He struggled, but panic quickly gave way to clarity: he was too deep. The surface was impossibly far.
As his vision dimmed, something glimmered below him. A faint light. A hole in the ravine wall?
With the last dregs of strength, Li Yun swam toward it.