The Tears of the Beast
A-Li tried her best to twist out of the path of the leg, hurtling towards her, but she was just shy of escaping, the forceful limb hitting her square on her knees. She almost fell to the ground, if not for the grip that the violent boy had on her arm, his dirty nails digging into her skin.
The being in the hut screeched in protest at her treatment, but ultimately still shackled inside its prison by the sunrays. It tried to reach out with its hands, but they burnt away as soon as they touched the golden glow that fell from above.
That burning red eye bulged out, straining against its confines at each and every one of A-Li's screams, trying relentlessly to throw itself out into the world and help her, constantly brushing up against the light, and risking blindness.
The boy continued to manhandle her, dragging her away from the glade, screaming out, declaring to the world, that there was a monster in the woods.
There was a monster in the woods that could control the minds and hearts of its victims. That the monster would lure prey towards it, in order to consume them. There was a monster in the woods, and that it was harmed by sunlight. We must stay in our homes at night, if we were going to avoid the monster in the woods.
A-Li kept screaming that Wei Chao was lying. There was no monster in the woods. That Wei Chao had stolen something important from a lumberjack in the forest and that he was making the whole story of a monster up, to cover for his crimes. She screamed that they needed to go back, and return the lumberjack's belongings. She screamed that he needed to let go of her. She screamed that he had kicked her, and that she was now bleeding. She screamed that he had torn her dress.
Wei Chao shouted back, louder and to more willing ears, that A-Li was almost eaten and attacked by the monster. He shouted back that he had saved her. He shouted out that there was no lumberjack. There was only a beast with a giant, glowing, red eye in the middle of a body made completely of shadows. He shouted that it had tricked A-Li and had been brainwashed.
He shouted that she still under the influence, and that a priest was needed to purify her.
He shouted back, loudest and to the most ears of them all, that as her fiancé, it was his duty to cure her of the monster's influence, by any means necessary, to be worthy of her hand in marriage, to be worthy of her parents, and for the sake of her honour.
She screamed and lashed out, telling as many as she could that he was lying. That none of what he was saying was true. His pockets needed to be checked. He had taken the lumberjack's scroll from his hut, stolen his belongings.
Check his sleeve!
Check his sleeve!
Check his sleeve.
Check his sleeve..
Check his sleeve...
Check, please.
Check, please...
Check...
Check...
Check
His
Sleeve!
...
...
...
Leave me alone.
Lee looked on as the truth unravelled before him. The shouts of two children, in their argument, dictating the path of his life now, years before he was even born.
The creature, in its prison, curled up into himself, hands forming from its body, reaching over its mass, and pressing inwards. Lee stared, and realised that it was hugging itself, seeking comfort in the nothingness of its own hollow body. That one eye keened over, looking downwards, and began to leak a familiar, red, undulating light, moving as if it were the waters of the river that Lee had followed the path of.
The fallen God was crying.
It was crying for A-Li, the life he had damned her to take. It was crying for his lost scroll, and the potential fate of the world, if there was no change. It cried because it was stuck in this small help, useless as it was unable to save a person.
He cried because he had failed, and was left with nothing now.
The scroll that he had found under the floorboards of his mother's room, belonged to this being. He was simply desperate to be reunited with the object which had led him to damnation, in an effort to protect the world as it was.
The world faded around Lee, revealing a marvellous sunrise.
Lee stared out into the rich golds, burning reds, delicate pinks and marvellous oranges. The clouds, floating idly in front of the sun were dyed a comforting purple. The fading blackness giving way to an awesome blue, in a gradient stretching from navy to almost white.
Lee looked over to the monster, the desperate, weak monster, who stood proudly within the light, its body burning away, and slowly dying.
It was desperate for the truth to be known. It was desperate to, once again, received the scroll, addressed to him, by any and all means necessary. It was never going to hurt Lee. He was the son of A-Li.
Lee was never going to be hurt. Little Mei was never going to be hurt.
"You may have been cursed, but to me, you will always be the True God of War," Lee called out, as solemnly as he could, to the dying God.
He bowed deeply and respectfully, placing more emotion in that gesture of respect, than he had for almost ten years. He kept his eyes firmly on the floor, staring down the grass, as vivid and vital as he had anticipated it to be, staring at the particularly bright shade of green, dressed handsomely in their coats of morning dew, reflecting a pretty and distinguished yellow of their blades.
A red string of light, tugged Lee's head upwards, and the red eye looked favourably down at Lee, betraying none of the agonising pain that Lee knew was coursing through his veins.
He stared into that eye, unblinking, and the God did the same.
They stood together, Lee looking up and the God looking down, playing at their staring contest.
When the God blinked first, Lee's face broke out into a smile. He whooped and gave a laugh.
A laugh which quickly dissolved into tears, chokes, and sobs. He threw his head upwards, and kept looking upon the God's death.
Nobody should die alone, and Lee was determined to keep the God in his company until the final moments had passed.
The tears of the God, evaporating almost as quickly as they formed, made their own attempt at wiping the wetness off Lee's face.
It did not work. Lee knew that it was never going to work. The monster knew that it was not going to work.
Lee moved his hand up, uncaring, and held the tears of the God in the palm of his hand, his thumb casting a shadow, letting some of the red settle into his skin.
He stood as well as he could, back straight and dignified, but eventually broke down.
Lee threw himself at the God, hugging him tight, as he vanished into black smoke, carried away on the four winds, leaving Lee alone in the glade.
The eye was the last part to go, looking down at Lee, affection swimming in it, and kind. It was the kindest eye that he had ever seen, and he choked down another sob, threatening to break out of his chest and into the world.
He was not dying, but the knowledge did nothing to stem the force and path of his tears.
Everything of the God, save for the impression left in the skin of Lee's right hand, burned away, the sunlight eroding his presence. There were no ashes left over for Lee to carry and store. There was no body. And there were no more belongings.
Lee would not be able to burn paper money, and there was no shrine to dedicate offerings to.
Lee watched the swirling of the God's tears in his hand, the red laying itself down in an intricate pattern, and glowing brightly in the morning light.
He looked around himself, onto the forest floor, and saw several tree branches laid out. Lee stuck them into the ground, and using another log, built a rough shrine for the God who had revealed so much to him, and taught him so.
He kneeled down and prayed.
He thanked the God and hoped that he would receive a fortunate reincarnation.
Lee left a handful of peanuts down, and gave one last bow.
He knew that it was unlikely that the God would be reincarnated, his soul too likely to have been burned away by the sun.
He did so anyway.
The God deserved it. He needed it. And he would be given it.
Lee stared down the rough shrine he had made one more time, consisting for a simple log, hoisted upon four sticks, the hollow compartment of it, open from one end, with the offering of peanuts placed inside.
Lee lamented that there was no name for him to carve onto the log, but stepped into the sunrise regardless.