[POV: Feng Cai]
My earliest memory was of the wind and a back turned toward me. Her hair was golden, like sunlight at dawn, and her ears were long and sharp, almost like knives. I was two years old when I learned that she was, in fact, my mother.
“Little Feng,” called the warrior. “This is your mother, Lady Yu Ling.”
He held a parchment in his hands. On it was a drawing of my mother, rendered in charcoal with such skill that she almost seemed alive. I reached out, took the charcoal from him, and scribbled across the parchment.
The warrior panicked. “Ah! Little Feng, no! You’ll dirty yourself with the charcoal!”
He quickly took the charcoal away from me, but then he stopped. His gaze fell upon the parchment.
Two long ears protruded from the woman in the drawing, childishly extended into pointed edges according to how I remembered them. The rest of the drawing remained almost exactly as the warrior had made it.
I stared at him, suddenly afraid that I had done something wrong.
“You are right,” he finally said, a strange smile appearing on his face, though the corners of his lips curved downward. “This is your mother.”
I pointed at the sketch. “Mother?”
The warrior's expression softened. “Yes. That’s right. Your mother. You can call her Mommy or Mama. Something more intimate.”
“Ma…ma.”
“That’s right.”
"Mommy?"
"That's right!"
At such a tender age, I did not really understand what he meant, but I repeated the word anyway. To me, the meaning of mother felt shallow. Mother was simply the woman in the picture. The warrior told me what the word meant and taught me many other words, but there were some concepts that I found difficult to comprehend.
“Come, Little Feng. The rain has stopped. It’s time for us to go.”
I climbed into the bamboo basket, which the warrior carried over his shoulder. With a swift movement, he leaped from the tree branch, landed on the tip of a blade of grass, and continued through the forest like a passing breeze. As far back as I could remember, this had been our life. We would travel from one place to another, stopping whenever we needed supplies, mostly things for me. Then, we would continue northwest. I spent most of my time sleeping, although sometimes I entertained myself by watching the world around me.
In the beginning, the world had been little more than a blur. Colors and shapes melted together whenever I looked at them. As I grew older, however, my eyes became accustomed to the world, and I could finally see things clearly.
Whenever I saw something interesting, I would point at it and repeat the words I had been taught.
“Rock.”
I pointed at a rock.
“Grass.”
I pointed at the ground.
“Tree. Tree!”
I pointed excitedly at the trees around us.
“Goat.”
A goat was grazing beside a distant village.
“Mountain.”
I pointed toward the towering mountain in the distance.
“Cloud.”
I pointed toward the sky.
The warrior had taught me quite a lot of words. He tried to talk to me as much as he could while I grew up, even when I only understood half of what he said. Whenever we took a break, he would tell me stories about the palace or about my parents. Just like the concept of a mother, however, I found it difficult to understand what parents were supposed to be. Sometimes, my curiosity tempted me to climb out of my basket. Whenever I did, the warrior would panic.
“Little Feng!” He would barely catch me before I hit the ground.
Every time, I laughed. “Hehehe! Again! Again!”
I loved the sensation of falling. There was something exciting about the brief moment when the world disappeared beneath me, followed by the warrior catching me before I could touch the ground.
“Again!”
The warrior sighed deeply. “You really enjoy doing this, don't you? Come on. Let’s take a break.”
He placed the basket beside the mountain before sitting down on a nearby boulder. Then, he took out a flask and heated it with our friends. They were strange friends. They felt like faint sensations that bobbed up and down around us, flowing through the air. Lately, I had been able to see these friends more clearly. They almost seemed like tiny, invisible things dancing around the warrior.
Sometimes, I could even hear them singing. Their songs became warmer as they gathered around his palm, filling the air with a gentle heat.
The warrior opened the flask and handed it to me. “Here, Little Feng. Drink your milk.”
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I wrapped both hands around the flask. It felt warm. I drank the milk before staring at him.
“What?” asked the warrior.
If there was a word for everything, then what should I call him exactly? ‘Warrior’ was a word I had learned from listening to other people address him. We had met quite a few people during our travels, from villagers, merchants, travelers, and other people passing along the roads. They all had names for him, but none of those names felt right to me.
I pointed at him. “Daddy.”
“Huh?” He looked completely flustered. “Wait, wait. I’m your big brother, not your dad.”
“Dad!”
“No, no. Your dad is someone else.” He hurriedly pulled out another parchment. This one depicted a hairy-looking old man. “This is your dad.”
I looked at the picture, then I looked at him.
I pointed at him again. “Dad! Dad!”
I remembered seeing old men in one of the villages we had passed through. An old man was someone with messy, long hair, lots of wrinkles, and bad posture. They walked slowly and usually needed something to lean on. Dads were different. They were strong, fit, and had incredible muscles. And my dad was the strongest. I remembered seeing him take down a huge boar twice his size with a single blow. The village had held a feast in his honor later that day.
Yes. I had decided.
“Daaaad!”
I threw a tantrum, waving the flask around.
“Nooo!” cried Dad. “I’m your big brother!”
I remembered crying my eyes out for the entire day before finally falling asleep. When I woke up, I found myself floating on a piece of wood in the middle of a lake. I had seen lakes before, but never one like this. I crawled toward the edge of the wood and peered down. My reflection stared back at me from the water. I had long, dark hair that was still messy from sleep, pale skin, and a small, round face. My eyes were large and bright, still carrying the puffiness left behind by all my crying. I looked very small compared to Dad.
“Little Feng, don’t fall.” Dad's voice made me look up.
I grinned and leaped off the wood. “Wheeee!”
Dad caught me by the back of my clothes before I could fall into the water. “Little Feng!” He lifted me up and placed me back where I had been sitting. “Don’t just jump into the water! What if you fall? You could drown!”
I giggled, completely unbothered. “Again!”
“No!”
I sat down with my hands on my knees, watching him with a pout. Dad was always so fussy. I looked around instead. The lake was enormous. It stretched so far in every direction that I could barely see the other side. From the mountains, lakes had always looked small. I had never realized that water could be this big. The closest lake I had ever seen was beside a village, and even that one had seemed large to me. My eyes wandered until I noticed the strange thing Dad was holding.
I pointed at it. “What that?”
Dad glanced at what I was pointing at. “This? It’s a paddle.”
“Paddle?”
“Yes. I use it to row the boat.”
I tilted my head. “Boat?”
Dad lightly stomped his foot against the piece of wood beneath us. “This is a boat. Well, technically, it’s a very crude one, but it lets us float on the water.”
I stared down at the wood. “Boat.”
“That’s right.” He smiled. “Now be patient, Little Feng. We’re almost there.”
I looked toward the distant shore. “Where go?”
“We’re going somewhere safe.”
“Safe?”
“That’s right.”
I didn't really understand what he meant. Still, some part of me understood that we were being chased. I had seen villagers hunt a wild boar once. Dad had left me in a village while he went to deal with some pursuers. I had been so scared that I thought he was going to abandon me. I played with the village children for a while, but eventually wandered too far and became lost in the forest. That was when I witnessed the villagers hunting a boar. The memory stayed with me. Since then, some part of me understood that Dad and I were like the boars.
We were being hunted. Dad had never told me that directly, though.
“I don’t know when I can tell you this,” Dad finally said, his voice quieter than usual. “But I think you’re old enough now. You’re quite a genius, Little Feng. You understand and remember words much faster than children your age.”
I immediately puffed out my chest.
Genius.
I liked that word.
“Heh!”
Dad chuckled. “You really are proud of yourself, aren’t you?”
I nodded vigorously. “Genius!”
“Yes, yes. A genius.”
He sighed, then looked at me with an expression I didn't quite understand. “You’re royalty, Little Feng.”
I blinked. “Royalty?”
“You’re a princess. The Princess of the Country of Feng.”
“Princess?”
“That’s right. You were destined for greatness, and one day, perhaps, you’ll have to take back the throne from the treacherous ministers who stole it from your family.”
There were so many new words that I couldn’t keep up. Royalty? Princess? Country? Throne? Ministers? Treacherous? My head started to hurt. I suddenly turned around, my stomach feeling strange, almost like an ominous premonition. “Dad?”
Dad sighed. “I told you, I’m not your dad—” He stopped. The paddle slipped from his hand and came to rest against the boat. His expression changed. He slowly stood up, then drew his sword. “Behind me, Little Feng.”
I hurried behind him. My friends were telling me something. There was danger. I clutched the back of Dad's clothes and peeked around him. Dad looked toward the forest.
“There’s quite a lot of them,” he lamented. To my surprise, he sheathed his sword and handed it to me. “Hold this tight. Do you understand me?”
I stared at the sword. I hugged it with both arms.
Dad crouched down in front of me. “No matter what happens, you must never let go.”
I nodded. “Never let go.”
“That’s right.”
My friends gathered around the sword. They obeyed Dad's words. I didn't know what was happening. I didn't know why Dad wanted me to hold his sword, or why the danger my friends warned me about felt so frightening. Dad reached into his belongings and took out a strange bronze thing. He folded it into my clothes, securing it against my chest. Then he looked at me. “Look for a palace, and seek the protection of the Golden Dragon.”
I stared at him. “D-Dad…” My arms tightened around the sword. “What are you t-talking about?”
Dad smiled gently. “Take care, Little Feng.”
He raised one hand, then gestured. The sheathed sword beneath my arms trembled, suddenly flying away. “Eh?” The world below me became smaller. I was flying. The lake disappeared beneath me as the sword carried me through the air. The trees that had seemed so huge from the ground became tiny patches of green.
Finally, I saw them.
Masked figures rushed out from the thick forest. They ran across the surface of the water as if the lake were solid ground, moving toward Dad. “D-Dad!” I cried out. “Daaaad!” But the sword only flew faster. I reached toward him, but he was already growing smaller in the distance.
“DAD!”
My friends warmly embraced me. They surrounded my body, holding me tightly. Don't let go. They told me not to let go, but I didn't want to listen.
“Go back!”
I cried.
“Go back! We have to go back! Dad is there!”
My friends refused. They continued carrying me away.
“Dad!”
Tears streamed down my face.
“We need to go back!”
They didn't listen. One by one, my friends began to disappear. There were fewer of them with every passing moment. I didn't know what they were. I didn't have a word for them. I only knew that they had always been there. They had been my friends, and now they were leaving me. The few that remained gathered around me, protecting me as the sword descended toward the forest.
A tree rushed toward me.
I closed my eyes. I was certain it was going to hurt. But instead of crashing into the branches, I felt myself become strangely light. My friends carried me. For a brief moment, I softly floated above the ground, just enough to cancel the force of my fall.
The moment my friends became exhausted and vanished completely, I fell down.
Thud!
I landed on the ground and immediately felt a sharp pain in my nose.
“Ow…”
I rubbed it, then I started crying again.
“Dad…”
He wasn't here.
“D-Dad…”
I hugged the sword tightly against my chest.
“Dad…”