We saw the family -and any obligation- as a means of slavery, a means of control. Mothers were forced to care for children. We considered that incarceration. When we set out to destroy the family, we wanted to make a nation of free individuals. Instead, we made a nation of betrayers and orphans.
***
Thirteen Years Ago
***
Janyin was still wrapped up in her husband's embrace when Laidu shot up, took one look at his hands, and screamed.
The two of them separated, Janyin jumping. "What's wrong with my hands?" Laidu screamed out. He stared at them as if they were covered in blood.
"Calm down, son, calm down," Dai Lan said. Laidu was breathing heavily, his starved frame rising and falling with each panicked breath.
"What...is wrong...with my skin?" Laidu asked, horrified.
"Nothing," Dai Lan said.
"I'm not like this all over!" Laidu snapped. When he saw the look on Dai Lan's face, he stopped. "Wait...no, am I?"
"Hold on," Dai Lan said. Janyin's son was still hyperventilating, and she didn't want to touch him. He looked like he was about to cry. She wanted to take him up in her arms and hug him and tell him everything would be alright.
Dai Lan came back with a mirror. "You're gonna find out soon enough anyway," he said, handing his son the mirror.
Laidu peered at his reflection. His hand went to his ridged cheekbones, the small straight line of scales that went down his neck, the sharp teeth. He touched the nubs of his horns. "Hold on... I'm not normal. Am I sick?"
"Not sick. But not normal," Dai Lan said.
"Dai!" Janyin said. "Don't say that! It's mean!"
"No, it's not," Dai Lan said. "It's accurate."
Laidu set the mirror to the side. "I'm not normal. What does that mean?" His scaly shins hung off the end of the bed, dangling. It had been a long time ago, but the room they were in used to be a spare bedroom. It was going to be a children's room. But they had locked it away ever since the winter fever closed her womb. "Sorry, I thought I was sick or something. Like I had really bad acne." That earned a laugh from Dai Lan.
But now, though she was barren still, the room had life in it. He wasn't smiling. No, he focused on Dai Lan as he explained what a Changed was.
"You see, there was this magic thing that swept across the land. Across the world, too, it sounds like, about a year ago. It took certain people and it gave them animal parts."
"Animal parts." Laidu looked at his face in the mirror. "So it made them look like me? Except, with fur and stuff instead of scales?"
"No," Dai Lan said. "You are the odd one. Normally, it's just one part. I know we helped a man with a tiger arm, and a woman who was a lizard from the knees down. But you're the first...blend."
"Oh." He sat there for a moment. "But why a dragon?"
"You must have been close to one when the Change occurred."
Laidu nodded, but stopped. "Wait...you don't know?" he paused. "Why don't you know?"
Janyin sighed. "I didn't want to have this talk this soon," she said to Dai Lan. "I wanted to wait," she said. They had to slowly reveal these things, she thought. But no, the Light apparently didn't want that.
"Waiting isn't really an option," Dai Lan said. He turned back to Laidu. "Well, I'll just lay it out straight." He sat down next to Laidu and gently put an arm around his son's scaly shoulders. "You...well, you were adopted."
"Oh." Laidu nodded.
"We found you, mad with hunger, ravenous, attacking a poor family's pantry." He sighed. "We found you today, actually. Really early in the morning."
"Oh, okay." Laidu nodded. "Where are my real parents?"
Janyin's heart cracked a little. Those words...they made her seem worthless. If he was looking for his real parents...what did that make her? A fake? She sat down next to him. "Laidu, we are your real parents."
"I know that," Laidu said. He seemed...frustrated. "I mean, I look ugly enough. Only someone who really loved me would take me in."
"Don't say that," Janyin said, hugging him close. Dear God, he was just skin and bones. And he was really hot. Like, feverish. "I think you're lovely-looking."
Laidu smiled. "Thanks," he said. "But...um, what's the word. What about...you know, the other parents?"
"Birth parents?" Dai Lan asked. Laidu nodded. "We don't know. We found you, half-starved, crazed, and eating everything in sight. We don't really know."
"Oh." He looked at Janyin. "I'm hungry."
She laughed. "Apparently, some things haven't changed." Janyin stood up. "I'm going to go ask some of our neighbors for spare clothes, and I'll go get some food." She kissed Laidu on the forehead. "Sit tight," she said. And looking at Dai Lan, she narrowed her eyes. "Draw a bath for him. He needs to get clean." Her son was beautiful, in her eyes. Even with the scales and horns. But still, he was filthy.
"Alright. I'll see if I can't draw some water up," Dai Lan said. "Now, get him something to wear."
"So, what should I do?" Laidu asked. "I'm really hungry."
"You're not going outside in those rags," Dai Lan said. "Just...stay here."
"I'll make you a big meal," Ja nyin promised as she walked away. But she still heard the words he said as she left the room.
"Okay, Mom." The sounds hit Janyin like a ton of rocks. She stopped, nodded, and left. They only saw her back. They didn't see her smile or the tears in her eyes.
Janyin wanted to be a mother. She wanted to raise a family. She wanted a child. And when she had gotten sick, she had cursed the Light for stealing her hope.
Now, she thanked Him. Now, He had given an orphan a mother, and a barren wife a child. If that wasn't mercy, if that wasn't a miracle, she didn't know what was.
She entered the common room of her home, grabbed her husband's heavy wool cloak, and left the house, entering a frigid world of cold mountain air.
The monastery compound was rather large, and it spread over many levels of the mountain. The houses occupied the second ring, between the farms and pens and chicken coops on the ring below, and the Temple, library, and other community buildings on the ring above. So, first, a stop on the same ring. Saojen's house should do.
She crossed the 'street' to another wooden building and knocked on the door. There was a shuffling sound, muffled, un-monkly oaths, and then the door opened. Saojen's kind, albiet haggard face looked back. "Yes?"
"Hi, um...I need clothing for someone."
Saojen paused. "Well? Don't stand there! Come in! Warm yourself up by the fire," she practically ordered.
Janyin nodded and stepped in. "Why do you need the clothes, by the way?" Saojen asked.
"You're not going to believe me if I told you," Janyin said.
"Try me." Saojen began to put away dishes.
"I have a son."
Saojen dropped her dish. The wooden platter clattered against the floor. "What?"
"My husband went down to do an exorcism. Instead of a demon, though, he found an orphan." She sighed. "He was Changed, though not like anything we've seen before."
"Oh?" Saojen asked.
"Yeah. He doesn't have a dragon arm or horns, or legs. It's like he was blended with a dragon."
Saojen stopped. "He's...part dragon?" she asked.
"Yeah," Janyin said. The fire burned nice and cheerful. Even being out in the cold for a short time made Janyin's bones seem frigid.
"That's strange. You know how he got that way?"
Janyin shook her head. "Not a clue. Poor boy can't remember how either. Though he speaks really good Ten-Zuani."
Saojan paused. "How big is he?"
"I'd say he looks about nine....but he's about as tall as a twelve-year old."
"Shou should have some old robes," Saojen said. "Hold on for a moment." She ducked into a back room,shuffled around for a bit, and then came out with a bundle of cloth. "This should do. My son was pretty gentle on his clothes," she said.
"Thank you," Janyin said.
"Hold on," Saojan said. She grabbed her own cloak. "I'm coming with you."
"Coming with... why?" Janyin asked, rising to her feet. She was nice and toasty warm from the fire.
"You have a kid. Even if he is a Changed, I want to see him." Soajan smiled. "He's probably kind of cute."
"Fine. I'll need the help anyway." Janyin sighed. "I'm getting food for my son. He looks half-starved."
"Poor thing," Saojan said. "I'll make him something nice."
"No." Janyin frowned. "I'm his mother. I will make it."
"Fair enough," Saojan said. "I can carry a few vegetables."
***
By the time Janyin had gathered some eggs, a basket of vegetables, and some meats, the duo had grown to about half a dozen women. They talked and squabbled and gossiped, but mostly they congratulated Janyin on adopting Laidu. They wanted to know what he looked like.
Janyin kept tight lipped about that. It was fun to hear them guess what he looked like. But something made her ignore them. Why in the name of the Light was there a steamcloud around her home?
She opened the door and stopped dead in her tracks. Dai Lan was at in the kitchen, his hand in a pot full of snow. She could barely see him, through all the smoke. "You might want to go in there," he said. "But don't touch him."
"Don't come in yet," Janyin said to the throng outside. She left the door open, to let some of the steam out. "What's wrong with him?" she asked her husband.
Dai Lan frowned. "He's burning up."
"Like he's feverish?"
"Like he's on fire."
Janyin set the clothes down on the table and practically sprinted into the bathroom.
The bathtub was little more than a barrel, sheathed in metal. And inside it, up to his neck in angry, sputtering, boiling water, was her son, terrified.
"What's happening?" he asked, staring at his hands and arms. This time, however, there was something amiss. Something off.
Mainly, the veins in his arms and hands were glowing. They moved down his arms, and crossed his chest, disappearing under the armorlike scale plates on his chest. "Help!"
She reached out to touch him, but the heat began to burn Janyin's hands. She held them back, but even so, it was uncomfortably hot. Calm. She had to keep calm! "Laidu, calm down. Calm down."
"What's happening to me?" Laidu asked with that same panicked tone.
"Calm down, it's normal." She didn't know if it was. But she had to assure Laidu that this was normal.
"Normal?" he asked, eyes wide with fear.
"Yeah." An idea struck her. "What else do you expect? You're part dragon, after all."
Laidu stopped. The heat died down a bit. "They...they did this?" he asked, pointing to the glowing veins. They creeped up his neck, across his collarbone, crisscrossing his shoulders.
"I should think so," Janyin said. "They say that the blood of a dragon is hotter than the sun, colder than the winter's heart. Why wouldn't it glow?" Now those words made sense. Quoted from an old scroll, they had seemed contradictory. But now, knowing that dragons could both freeze and burn things, knowing that, as she could see, the power of the dragon was in their blood, it all made sense.
"Okay. But how do I stop it?" Laidu asked. The water was still bubbling, and a bit of it spurted out onto Janyin's face. And, since it was boiling water, Janyin hissed in pain. "Sorry!" Laidu said, horrified at what he had inadvertently done. "Sorry!" The heat began to intensify.
"Relax," Janyin said. "I've cooked before. I've gotten worse than this." She ignored the burning pain on her face and moved closer. "What does it feel like?"
Laidu paused, and closed his eyes. "It...it feels like a fire. Like there's a fire in my belly, in my heart." He opened his eyes. "What is it?" he asked. "It's out of control!"
Janyin paused. "Cool it down. Imagine a winter breeze blowing across it." Laidu closed his eyes. The heat began to die down. "Now light it up, breathe on it. Increase the fire."
The heat began to build again, and more steam poured from the tub, but this time, Laidu opened his eyes and smiled. "That...is awesome!" he said. Then, the temperature dropped. "Um...Mom, can you look away?"
"Huh?"
Laidu closed his eyes. "And...um, pass the towel," he said. Janyin chuckled and turned her back after handing Laidu a towel from a basket under the wash basin.
There was a splash as Laidu lifted himself out. "So...you got something I can wear?" Laidu asked.
"I asked around and got some clothes for you," Janyin said. "Let me go grab them." She left the steaming bathroom.
The other room was downright cold by the time she got out, and it was a shock to her. "Brr..." she said, shivering slightly. Dai Lan looked up from his pot of now half-melted snow. "I've calmed him down."
"Good." Dai Lan stood up, and looked at his hand. "I'm not that badly burned. Just...a bit scalded."
"That's better," Janyin said. "Now, I'm going to go make sure he's alright," she told him as she picked up the clothes and went back into the steam-filled bathroom.
Laidu was hiding behind the tub. "Don't look!" he said hurriedly.
Janyin chuckled. "Here," she said, holding out a short pair of light cotton pants. "Put these on."
A scaly arm reached out and grabbed those. "Good thing I don't have a tail," Laidu said.
"Yes, good thing," Janyin responded.
"Though a tail would be awesome," Laidu said.
Janyin smiled. "Why would that be awesome?" she asked.
"Um...well, it's a tail."
"And?"
Laidu sighed. "It's a tail."
Janyin chuckled. He was smart. But he was still a kid.
Laidu frowned as he stepped out from behind the bathtub. "Um...it feels weird," he said about the undergarments. He poked them with his right index finger.
Janyin laughed. "Maybe it's because you got them on backwards?"
Laidu's cheeks reddened. It was slight, but the coppery gold scales turned a bit darker. "Oh." He slipped behind the tub and shuffled around for a few moments. Janyin could see elbows and knees poke out from the side. "Yeah, that feels better," Laidu said. He reached for the clothes. "Don't worry, I can dress myself," he said, picking up the shirt. Except it looked like a shirt had been cut apart. "Actually..."
"Let me," Janyin said. She picked up the set of wool pants. Laidu climbed into them, putting a scaly hand on his mother's shoulder. She held up the shirt. "Hold on." What Laidu thought was a neckhole was actually a sleeve. Janyin slid his arm through it. The rest, she folded over, tied a few ties, and finished. The monk's robe left both arms bare, and one shoulder all the way to the neck uncovered. It was a plain robe, and it fit her son well.
"They're nice," Laidu said.
"Well, you look wonderful," Janyin said.
Laidu rolled his eyes. "Look at me. I got scales." He stared in the foggy looking glass Dai Lan had mounted on the wall. Janyin could still remember the oaths he had said when he had hammered his thumb twice! "And a snout."
Janyin leaned down. "Well, I think you look adorable."
"I have horns. I doubt I'm adorable."
"They're cute horns," Janyin said, tapping them lightly with her hand. They were kind of cute. Though the bony arm, the chest that clung too tight to his ribs, and his sunken face made her think otherwise. He needed some food.
She looked down to tell him something, then stopped. Laidu blew furiously, stopped, frowned, then took a deep breath and blew as hard as he could. "What are you doing?" Janyin asked.
"Well, I'm part dragon," Laidu said. "Shouldn't I breathe fire?"
"Not in my house," Janyin said. "The house is made of wood. And I like the house."
Laidu frowned. "Fine, Mom," he said.
"You're getting used to calling me 'Mom' really quickly." Janyin noted.
"Well, what else are you?" Laidu tapped his toes on the floor. "You're taking care of me. You adopted me." He gave Janyin a small hug. "Anyway, I'm hungry."
"I did get you some food," Janyin said. "But I must warn you."
"What?" Laidu's eyes filled with fear.
"The other wives came with me."
"Dai Lan has more than one wife?" Laidu asked, confused.
"No!" Janyin assured. "The wives of the other men here. In our monastery."
"Oh." Laidu opened the door. "Should I be worried?"
"You're going to be smothered in attention. And babied." Laidu sighed. "Just, hold on until I make you food. Then I can shoo them away."
"Okay." He walked into the kitchen and sat down next to his father. "Are you alright?" he asked, looking at the scalding wound on Dai Lan's arm.
"Yeah, I'm fine." He smiled at the Changed child.
"Hold on, the horde is coming," Janyin said. Dai Lan moved over closer to Laidu and put an arm around him protectively. Janyin opened the door. "Can I see the food?" she got out before the half-dozen housewives charged in and focused their attention on the copper-scaled child.
"Aww!"
"Look at the little horns!"
"And the snout!"
"Such pretty scales."
"Needs some more meat on his bones."
Janyin smiled, before grabbing the eggs and a pan from a hook on the kitchen wall. She cracked the eggs in, one at a time, and put them in the pan, before putting that over the small fire Dai Lan had stoked up. The eggs sizzled and sputtered as they cooked, and, as Janyin added peppers and onions, the large omelette began to take form.
"Alright, alright, leave the poor kid alone!" Dai Lan said. The wives grumbled, but as Dai Lan shepherded them out, they smiled at Laidu, congratulated Janyin, and left.
Janyin slid the omelette onto a wooden platter and slid it towards Laidu. "Eat up. Just eat whatever you can," she said.
"Don't you think that's a bit big for him?" Dai Lan said, but Laidu went at it with gusto. The thing was half the size of his head. But he ate it. He clawed at it with his hands, and after two minutes, the plate was clean.
"Ah," Laidu said. "It was nice," he said. "Thanks. But I'm still hungry."
Janyin sighed. It was going to be a busy day.
***
Janyin tossed on her nightrobe. Dai Lan was resting in their bed, relaxing. Ultimately, Laidu had eaten four omeletes. Dragon metabolism, they had chalked it up to. Now, Laidu should be alseep.
But still, there was something that bothered Janyin. She leaned over Dai Lan. "I'll be right back, dear. Just checking on Laidu."
"Mmmph," Dai Lan said. He was half asleep. The small candle caused the shadows to dance over the contours of Dai Lan's chest. The winter winds howled outside, their hollow roar the price of living on a mountain.
Janyin kissed him on the cheek, before rising and leaving their small bedroom. She opened the door, the familiar creak almost a part of the home. It was a simple home, but one they made. A part of them was in it. And now, Laidu was part of it.
The home had always felt empty without a child. Now, there was one. There was a son. Janyin's son. Dai Lan's son.
She entered his room, the small candleholder casting flickering shadows on the walls. There was a flash of motion, and Janyin turned. "Laidu, is everything alright?"
Laidu sat up. When he got dressed for bed, he wore a pair of softer pants. He was painful to look at. All skin and bones. "Yeah. Just a nightmare."
Janyin sat down next to him and put an arm around him. "I hate nightmares," she said. She had set the candle down on a tiny little table next to his bed.
"Yeah," he said, looking away.
"You know what happened in it? Sometimes, when you tell it to someone else," Janyin said, "it makes it less scary."
Laidu didn't look away. "I had met this girl. In the dream, and I was a normal boy. She was nice to me. I gave her a flower. She gave me a hug. We played a bit by a river. I kind of liked her. She was a friend."
Janyin nodded. "Sounds like a pretty detailed dream. It seemed almost real?"
"More real than real," Laidu said. "But then, someone stuffed me in a sack. They threw me out in this dark cave, and there was this dragon, and then suddenly I hurt all over." He shuddered, and Janyin gave him a small hug.
"You can stop if you want," Janyin said.
"No," Laidu said. The Changed child sighed. "There was a mirror, and when I looked in it, I looked like this. All scaly and...monster-y. I ran back to the river."
Janyin knew where this was going. It broke her heart to hear him say it all the same.
"She saw me...and she started screaming. She ran away. She called me a monster, said she hated me." He was crying now, looking away. "And she's right. I am a monster."
"Don't say that, Laidu!" Janyin said.
"Why not?" he asked, looking at his mother, pushing away. "I have scales! I have horns! I burn things by touching them! What else would you call me? A demon? A terror?"
"Laidu, don't say that!" Janyin moved closer, but the child backed away.
"Was that why I was missing? My parents saw me and they couldn't stand the sight of me?" his voice was barely over a whisper. "I tried to view it as awesome. I tried. I tried to see it like it was a good thing!" He didn't try to move away when Janyin hugged him. "I can't lie to myself," he said, the despair palpable in his voice. His body was almost feverish. His name, meaning Fever Blood, couldn't have been more poignant.
"No, don't say that," Janyin said. "They would have kept you if they could. Now, we're your parents. And I don't think you're ugly."
"But others will. No one will want to be friends. No one will want to love me when I'm a monster." He looked at his mother. "You don't think I'm ugly. But I am." He sighed. "I'll be alone for the rest of my life. You and Dai Lan...I can't have something like that."
"Of course you will," Janyin said. "You're beautiful. But you're not the same kind of beautiful as everyone else." She smiled at him, though her heart bled. "You'll find a girl that can see past the scales. No. She'll see the scales, see how shiny and pretty they are. She'll see the horns and see how strong you are. She'll see those eyes and know that you're kind and sweet."
Those amber eyes looked deep into her. "You're just saying that."
"Of course I'm not!" Janyin said, holding him closer. "You're my son. I wouldn't lie to you." She kissed him on the forehead, on the large armorlike scale.
Laidu wrapped his thin arms around her. "Thank you for being my mother," he said, still crying. "I'll be the best son I can be," he promised. Janyin held him as he cried. She held him as his breaths lengthened, as the tears stopped flowing, as he blissfully began to fall asleep.
And then she began to sing.
Her voice rang out pure, soft, and sweet, wrapping Laidu in a melody, caressing him with a language he couldn't understand. Not that he cared to. It was a lullaby, written in the old language of the Ten-Zuani. Janyin's mother sang it to her, as Janyin's grandmother sang it to Janyin's mother. Laidu smiled, and fell asleep, wrapped in his mother's embrace.
She was still singing when her husband walked in. He carried a blanket, and sat down next to his wife, sleeping Laidu between them. She didn't stop the song. As the cold winter winds ripped and tore about outside, inside, there was a quiet warmth. A powerful warmth. Dai Lan's skin was warm against her's. Laidu's scales were very warm through the nightrobe. As her husband put an arm around her and blew out the candle, Janyin let her song fade. Dai Lan wrapped the blanket around the three of them, and Janyin began to cry.
"What's wrong?" Dai Lan asked.
"He called himself a monster," Janyin said. "He said he was ugly, that he would be alone for the rest of his life." She leaned on Dai Lan's shoulder. "What do we do?" She felt like she was at the edge of an abyss, where one wrong move would make Laidu fall for her mistake.
"Tell him he's not. We're monks. We take outcasts into our family." Dai Lan sighed. "I doubt the other kids will be too scared of him once they see him enough. But first, we have to get him to control that power."
Janyin nodded, and deep down, she knew something was true. She knew it as if God Himself had said it to her, had spoken through her being, spoken straight to her heart. And these words gave her peace. It was the knowledge that came from the heart, that reason couldn't comprehend. That didn't make it any less true. It was the knowledge of the Divine.
Her son would be many things. He'd be great, he'd be small. He'd be strong, he'd be weak. He'd be powerful, he'd be powerless. But there was one thing he'd never be.
He would never be alone.