The Last Honor

29. The Way of Origami

Xiang trembled with fear as Chiwa tightened the ropes around his wings. The blue peacock lay on his back, stretched out on a table, his wings and legs tied to a table leg with a rope. After the last rope had found its place, Chiwa surveyed her work with satisfaction. Then she stretched out her wing to her helpless nephew and ran a feather finger over his head, over his beak, then over his neck. The peacock's whole body trembled uncontrollably under her touch. He mumbled something what sounded like a pleading. He still wore the cord around his beak. But his aunt left his request completely cold. With slow steps, she went to the little table where the many knives lay. With a wistful smile, she picked up one of the knives and looked at herself in the reflection.
"Oh, my dear Xiang," she whispered to herself. "I thought I'd have to bury you when my first gray feathers had sprouted. But that would be very gross, wouldn't it?"
She looked over at him with her dark eyes. But Xiang didn't look at her. He stared at the ceiling, breathing so hard and fast that his chest rose and fell visibly.
Chiwa smirked and went back to him, leaning down to him in a whisper. "Well, did your former daughter lead you to me so nicely that you are now angry about it?"
At that second, Xiang sucked in a sharp breath. The dark peahen laughed.
"Did I hit the sore spot? Oh, you can't help feeling sorry for yourself."
She turned away again. The blue peacock was beginning to get tears in the eyes. No matter what others said, it was clear to him that all women were just traitors.
"I apologize for the delay," Chiwa said, putting the knife back in its place and instead taking one of Shen's feather knives into the wing. "It would have been faster if you hadn't pushed yourself so deep into the abyss." She clicked her tongue. "I wonder what your mother would think of you today. Her own son, arrested by the Huns? How embarrassing."
She turned back to him and looked down at him reprovingly. "That made my work twice as difficult. Because they didn't want to tell me, where they had hidden you." She came closer. Xiang tensed his muscles. Chiwa twisted her beak and smoothed out a feather for Xiang. "Really, you didn't hold up well with your plumage either. You are really not a likeness of a man."
She looked at the feather knife in her wings and twisted it thoughtfully. "But don't worry. Soon you won't have to struggle with your looks any longer." Again she stroked the sharp blades. "And actually, I should thank this pale bird." Xiang froze when she lowered the feather knife to him and she pressed the sharp blade against his chest. "So you can watch your heart slowly stop beating."
Her gaze wandered to the side. "And please make an effort. Your mother is watching us, too."
Xiang looked to the side. The oil painting of his mother and his aunt was leaning against the wall not far from them. Xiang narrowed his eyes, which only amused Chiwa.
"That brings back memories, doesn't it?" she whispered to him. "But this time you will have no way to evade your punishment." She stroked his chest. "I will finish her work. But according to my method. My sister was more of a friend of strangulation." She squeezed his neck a little. "But I still prefer the sharp-edged method." Again she held the knife in front of him. He stared at it with wide eyes. Chiwa giggled. "I see, you want to rip it out of my wing, don't you?"
She got up and for fun, she put the feather knife in his left wing. Xiang's wing trembled when he felt the knife in his feathered hand.
"Well, do you want it?" she scoffed.
Xiang grabbed it, but Chiwa snatched it from his hand again. "Oh no, you don't get it," she giggled. "Bad boys don't get anything anymore. What a shame you were a bad boy. Bad boys are always punished. Remember that. Always."
Xiang's breathing quickened. Then he pulled the ropes.
I wasn't bad! It was self-defense... absolute self-defense...

Over 30 years ago...

He wanted to scream for help. But nobody could hear him. Not even the universe came to his aid. He looked behind. No, she was still behind him. She had purposely made a break just to torment him longer.
He screamed again, but the gag in his mouth almost choked him. That was the 20th feather of his splendor of colors that she tore out of him.
"I told you to keep count!" a woman's voice hissed behind him.
The teen young blue peacock swallowed hard.
"Mpmff.pf.f," he muttered.
The dark peahen behind him folded her wings in annoyance. "You could really do better before than that... but what of it?"
Something metallic fell to the floor. The peacock looked behind. She had thrown the knife away and was now three feet away from him.
"It's about time to say goodbye anyway."
She went away. Because of the poor light in the room, he temporarily lost sight of her. He wanted to run away now, but he couldn't.
In vain, he shook the ropes. His wings were tied together on a pillar so that he was facing the beam. He groaned exhausted. The young peacock was a mess as far as his appearance was concerned. His torn-out peacock feathers were scattered all over the ground. His once neat robe was cut at the back, completely torn apart. His gag was soaking wet from the many tears that ran down his face. There were bloody spots on his back that she had inflicted on him with the knife.
He heard her giggle softly. Panic welled up in him. Again his gaze wandered over to the knife that was still on the floor. He reached for it, but couldn't reach it. In desperation, he tugged at the ropes around his wings and stretched further. He touched one of the long tail feathers. Then he knew what to do. He grabbed one of the long feathers with his claws and pushed it towards the knife. The center of the feather could touch the knife. Panting, he pulled the metallic sharp object closer and closer to him. His heart almost stopped with excitement when he finally felt the knife in his foot. Shivering, he pushed the knife across the floor, clutched the handle and lifted it to his wings, where he immediately began rubbing the blade on the ropes.
He was startled when a shadow approached him from behind. In the faint light, he recognized a cord that she was stretching between her wings. She laughed.
"You really were a naughty boy." She pulled his head closer to her. "Now it's time for a good night kiss."
At the next moment, Xiang felt the rope around his neck, which was tightening quickly. He gasped for air, but the gag gave his lungs less oxygen. She pulled the cord tighter together. Around Xiang everything slowly went black. But he still held the knife tightly. Breathing heavily, he continued rubbing the blade against the ropes that held his wings together. He couldn't breathe anymore. His cutting movements were now only carried out mechanically. He couldn't think anymore. His eyes rolled back. Then he felt the rope loosening around his wings. His wings were free, he still held the knife in his agony. As if in a trance, he stabbed the knife backwards. The following scream echoed in his ears for a long time. He withdrew the knife and stabbed it again, over and over again. Finally, the tightness around his neck disappeared. At first, everything spun around him. All he remembered was how he sank to the ground. It felt like he was falling to a depth that gently caught him. For a while, he lay on cold marble stone. He started to freeze. Everything hurt. Mostly his head, which slowly began to work again through the regained air. Gradually, the heaviness vanished. He got up with difficulty. Something lay beside him, stretched out and motionless. He felt something strange between his feather fingers. His gaze wandered to the floor. There was something wet there. He lifted his wings and rubbed the dark red liquid between his feather fingers. He stared at it, speechless. Then he realized it and he began to tremble.
"I killed her, I killed her..."