They get so scared

“Lingshi!”

The little elf scrabbled in the air and managed to catch his book before they could both fall out of the tree. He pressed his back against the trunk and tried to steady his breathing.

“There's no point hiding up there,” called out his father. “I can see your ears.”

Lingshi pressed his lips together and then climbed down until he stood before the tall man, holding the book to his heaving chest.

“Why didn't you come when I called you?” demanded his father, pinching the tip of his large ear. “I know you heard me because of these too.”

“O-ow!” whined Lingshi, flapping his hand at the painful grip but making no move to dislodge the offending fingers. “F-father, that –”

“– hurts, does it?” Kishu didn't let go, patting himself on the neck. “How do you think my throat feels after all that shouting? I told you yesterday that we were going to hunt this morning. Why did you think it was a good idea to run off and waste not just my time but your brother's as well?”

“I was tired,” he sniffled.

His ear stung worse after his father released it and his eyes welled up as he wrapped his fingers around it.

“Not too tired to climb a tree, I see,” said Kishu as he pointed at the middle layer of branches above them. “You think we don't get tired of looking for you all the way up there every time? You think me and your brother don't get tired of waiting for you to show up? Or stop crying? Or do anything boys normally like to do?”

“I'm sorry.” Lingshi flinched as his father grabbed him by the arm and started to pull him back towards the farmhouse.

“You'd better catch something today,” he growled. “Don't even think about asking me for forgiveness if you don't.”

The elf stumbled over his own feet and held onto his book with his free hand.

“I-I don't want to catch anything,” he stammered.”F-father –”

“I don't care.”

“Please.” The trees gave way to their garden and Lingshi tried to dig his heels into the ground but the big man dragged him along effortlessly. “Please don't make me. I don't want to –”

“Why not?”

“Because it hurts them.” He swallowed hard as his father stopped to glare at him. “When you sh-shoot them, and when you catch them in your traps, it hurts them so much. A-and they get so scared before you k-kill them.”

“So what?” said Kishu, giving him a little shake that made his wrist ache. “Animals are here to serve us in whatever way we need them to. That's why they exist. It doesn't matter whether any of them like it or not.”

“But that-that's awful,” whimpered Lingshi, unable to stop his tears from escaping. “And cruel. I don't want to –”

“I don't care what you want either, boy,” said his father. “I'm here to work, and make sure you and the rest of the family stay safe and satisfied, but what if something happens to me? Or your brother? What happens when I get old? Who's going to look after your mother and sisters then? Who's going to make sure they're fed?”

“I c-could go to the market and buy some meat,” he suggested. “And Hakane –”

“No son of mine is going to let his sister hunt for him,” said Kishu, poking his chest. “No matter how much she acts like a boy.”

“But she's really good at –”

“I don't want her to be good at it, Lingshi. I want you to be good at it.” His father prodded him harder and knocked his hands aside when he tried to wipe his face. “You. Not her. But what are you good at? Ask yourself that?”

It was hard to think of anything on the spot with his father's hand around his wrist like a shackle. He shook his head even as indignation made his heart swell painfully.

“Reading? Writing?” continued Kishu. “You should leave that girly stuff to your sisters. Books won't buy you food and words won't keep you safe. Do you understand?”

He couldn't get the words out, regardless of how much he wanted the conversation to end.

“I asked you a question, boy,” said his father. “You can't even use soul-magic even though you're an elf. Are you just going to spend your life doing nothing?”

“No, I'm –” Lingshi lowered his eyes to put some distance between his father's disgust and his own.

“You didn't do anything that night either,” said Kishu as a charred hand landed on his shoulder.

When he looked up again, the man's skin had turned a dark red, and smoke curled up from where his eyelashes and hair had been. A pungent scent filled Lingshi's nose and the book fell to the ground as he reached up to cover it with his palm, eyes half closed as he tried not to throw up.

“Maybe you wanted it to happen after all.”

“No-!”

*

Lingshi woke up and curled into a ball on his side, covering his ears and keeping his eyes shut until his breathing slowed down. He could hear the muted sounds of a sand and stone village rousing itself beneath the early morning rays.

A full body outward pulse of soul magic confirmed that he was alone in the room he had rented for the night and the mouth-watering scent of freshly baked bread replaced that of burnt flesh.

How long has it been since I had a nightmare like that? A hundred years? Two hundred?

His ears burned as he released them and allowed the blood to flow back the tiny blood vessels, and then rolled onto his back. He blocked out the reality of the day time with his forearm, resting it lightly across his eyes.

I bet that conversation with Chi yesterday had something to do with it. I wonder what time humans her age usually wake up. It's well past dawn by now, I'm sure.

He lay there for a little while longer until his soul felt like it had fully settled down into the grooves and ridges of his body. When he was able to peel himself off the mattress, he found water in a sealed ceramic basin with a wash cloth folded beside it. After using both to freshen himself up, he folded the dark red bed sheets and left them on the foot of the bed before donning his robe.

He pulled his hood up but left his mask hanging around his neck as he approached the white staff that he hadn't placed against a wicker chair close to the bed.

“I hope I didn't squash you last night, Yoka,” he said, touching the fake wood. “I hardly remember what happened after I sat down.”

The staff wriggled and then coiled around his hand, changing into the shape of a mini dragon only once she was safely cradled in his palm. He stroked her head and she greeted him with a high-pitched purr.

“You must be hungry after yesterday,” he said as she crawled up his arm to hide in his hood again. “Our new friend probably is too.”

He left the room and knocked on Chi's door.

“Chi, it's me,” he said. “Are you awake?”

He waited but, even after several minutes, she didn't answer him

“Chi?” He raised his voice slightly. The corridor was busier than it had been the night before so it was possible that she hadn't heard him. “May I come in?”

He couldn't hear any signs of movement in the room and his presence outside it started to draw the gaze of curious passers by. Placing a palm against the door, he scanned the room with a silvery-blue wave.

Only to find it empty in his mind's eye.

“Yoka, I need the key,” he murmured as surprise and concern fought for dominance in his chest

The dragon slithered down his sleeve, straight into the key hole. She changed shape after a moment and became a perfect replica of the key he had handed Chi the night before. He covered her with his sleeve and entered the room as if he had been let inside by its former occupant.

His eyes confirmed the emptiness his soul-magic had already revealed. The bed was dishevelled but unoccupied. Besides that, there were no traces of the human he had met the day before.

There aren't any signs of a struggle but that doesn't mean there wasn't one. The water bowl and the cloth seem untouched. Does that mean she left some time during the night?

Lingshi locked the door behind him, then hurried down the stairs without drawing attention to himself. Yokanna remained wrapped around his wrist like a dragon-style bracelet, pressed against his quickened pulse.

“Excuse me?” he said, lifting a hand apologetically as he realized the person at the front desk was already talking to the parents of two three-tailed fox cubs, who were playing hide and seek in the reception area.

“Sorry about that,” said the receptionist as the fox family left. “Can I help you?”

An older, less enthusiastic-looking mixed blood cat had replaced the feathered reptile from the previous night.

“Good morning,” said Lingshi, handing the room key over to him. “I was just wondering if my companion has left already?”

“Your … companion?” The cat hybrid raised an ear in confusion.

“She was in the room next to mine,” he said. “A young human. You wouldn't happen to have seen her leave already, would you?”

“A human, you say?” The receptionist glanced at the tag attached to the returned to room key, then flicked through the inn's logbook. “Let me see.”

Lingshi tucked his hands into his sleeves but gripped his wrists impatiently as he waited.

She might have gone to the shelter I mentioned before. She already said we had nothing to fear from the Tiru-Huoi Wardens but if she was wrong and they did turn up here to drag her back to Kinshu? The owners of the inn would know about it. Most likely.

The windows of the inn had wooden shutters that could be pulled down during sandstorms but there were usually no other barriers between the occupants of the upper floors and the rest of the village besides a thin layer of semi-transparent cloth.

What if she somehow managed to climb out of the window and someone else took her?

He doubted the bandits who had nearly captured her the day before were still following them. The knowledge that they weren't the only bandits in Shi-Kai left a bad taste in his mouth that resembled the flavour of his latest nightmare.

“Your little friend left about twenty minutes ago, sir,” said the mixed blood cat as his extended claw stopped over a short paragraph in the logbook. “You might still be able to catch her if you hurry.”

“Do you know if she left by herself?” asked Lingshi.

The mixed blood looked him up and down briefly, and for the first time in forever he had the urge to reveal his ears.

“From what I could tell, she was alone, sir.”

“May ask one last question before I go?” He smiled faintly. Harmlessly. “Did she seem okay? She didn't look worried or anything like that, did she?”

He expected the cat hybrid to point out that he had asked three questions, not one, but the inn had a reputation for being as professional as it was playful and the one standing behind the front desk was well aware of that.

“She didn't look upset to me, sir,” he replied coolly.

“Thank you,” said Lingshi, pressing his fingertips to his mouth with a dip of his head.

The mixed blood cat's eyes widened and the elf realised belatedly that he had just unintentionally dropped a huge clue about his identity.

Am I really that worried about her?

He paused outside the inn and resisted the urge to track the child down with magic. It would have been easier than tracing a pattern across a tapestry or picturing the vulnerable human wandering the strange streets of the village alone.

She must have had her own reasons for leaving without a word.

“I guess it's time to get breakfast for two now, instead of three, right, Yoka?” he murmured, rubbing the side of his neck.

The mini dragon took the opportunity to return to its usual mid travel hiding spot before he followed the smell of warm bread to a bakery.

A short while later, he found himself sitting down in an outdoor food court with two chunks of bread and a bowl of Dragon's Breath soup. Yokanna munched on small bits of meat inside his sleeve as he alternated between feeding himself and her.

Even if she doesn't find that shelter, I'm sure the daughter of the governor wouldn't have left home without a decent amount of money to hand. She won't starve, at least.

The soup was as spicy as he remembered and Lingshi considered picking up a baked dessert before heading for the local library. Its roof was even closer in the daylight and its stone walls less vivid. A voice from a nearby table distracted him. Two words, to be exact.

“No matter how strong he might be, even the Hooded Hero would think twice about walking straight into the dragon's den.”