More fireworks between Asheno and the new Dzunis.

Disclaimer: I don't own FB, Natsuki Takaya does; anything else you recognize is also not mine. Tragically.

Chapter 18

Lhurone

I remained in bed for a week and a half, doctor's orders. Khosure, the boy with the weird silver hair, had to stay in bed even longer because the pneumonia made him so tired. He was okay; when he was awake enough, he could chatter like no one's chirping birds on a spring day. Still didn't know him very well, though. The girl, Hotohori, at first seemed to be a cold piece of fluffy white clouds…hmm, haven't gotten out of the habit of trying to cuss every other sentence. It makes me sound bizarre. My slips are kind of funny, though; I guess I'm getting used to them.

"I see now why you were kicked out of the gang," Haku had said after I'd accidentally described my pain as a nice warm bubble bath (which it isn't, let me tell you). Anyway, about Tori, as they call her, which I'm not really comfortable doing yet, she's turned out to be a pretty good person. She's talked to me some, although she's worried about Khosure. Now, I have no experience with things like this, but I'm sure Khosure sees her as more than a friend. The times I was with girls in Shiwa, well, they were casual acquaintances, shall we say. I'm no stranger to "lovemaking." That's the only "s"-related word I can use without being forced to use some queer substitution. A couple nights a week, we'd just get together with girls in the town, after a good altercation against another gang. I can't even say "fig-", "fi-"…oh, never mind. I can't believe how different I sound, it's like I came out of a cocoon a completely different person after fifteen years. And now I'm in the home of the richest family in all Hoth as well.

Mind you, I'm beginning to like this new life a lot better. Even if the guardian does give me the willies. It's still nicer to have a full belly every day, and be warm, and be around friendly people. For sure Haku, Hatsuharu, and Hotohori have never had deal with what Khosure and I did. Khosure won't talk much, but I know. I know a slum person when I see one. He's had a lighthearted…oh, again with the cussing…I meant, he's had a hard life. Although my gut, and my gut is still excellent, tells me that the other three haven't had it easy, either. Just in a different way. That ghost wolf couldn't be the only reason Haku seems so scary. Granted, I'd be petting a lamb…having a monster wolf hanging over you would mess you up. But there's the way Haku and Hatsuharu talk about Asheno, and my short meeting with Asheno proves what they're saying. The man is evil. I feel sure of it.

The head housekeeper, Rhena, is the opposite of evil, happily. She's taken care of me and Khosure the entire time. We've had lots of lively conversation. Rhena's told me many stories of when we were babies, and the hijinks Haku and Hatsuharu pulled as kids. Though they'd probably crawl under a rock and die of embarrassment, if they knew Rhena were telling me these stories.

One day she came in carrying a pad of paper and a white plastic bag.

"Lhurone, dear," she said, putting the bag and paper on the nightstand next to me, "Now that you're here and not part of a gang anymore, thank the Heavens, I thought it was high time you found some hobbies. I love talking with you, but I have my duties and you should find something else to do besides talking with old ladies all day long, and that television will rot your brain more than that gang did. Haku let me borrow some of his drawing paper and pencils. Why not try drawing for a start? You can do it in bed." She poured out the colored pencils. "Maybe Khosure might try, too, after he wakes up. Oh, and Asheno is sick today. No trouble from him today! I'll call the doctor later about your sleeping problem." I'd been having progressively more trouble falling asleep while lying down. It was becoming necessary for me to sit up in order to fall asleep. "Your rib isn't bothering you, is it? Good. Now I must be off." One final beam and tuck of the sheets, and Rhena was off, as she said.

"Did Swish-swish just leave?" Bedsheets rustled, and Khosure emerged yawning, his long hair covering his face. Khosure had recently begun referring to Rhena as "Swish-swish" because of the sound her skirts made whenever she rushed off to some task. An apt nickname, in my opinion.

"Yeah, she gave me these pencils and paper to try drawing." The blank white sheets shone in my lap. The pink pencil in my hand felt light and strange. "But I've never drawn before. How do I start?"

"Oh, drawing! Fantastic!" enthused Khosure, immediately waking up and energetically shuffling to my bed. He sat down heavily, making me bounce dangerously.

"Hot cocoa, be careful!" I yelled. "My rib's still recovering, you know."

"Sorry!" He'd already gotten used to my creative cussing. "Could I have some paper?" He grabbed some without waiting for my answer. I didn't really mind, though, he's a good soul.

"Just draw something that interests you," Khosure said, "The land, people, houses, whatever. I'm going to sketch clothing designs I want to make once I get enough money to buy the fabric. Here, let me show you. Haku's a really great artist, you should ask him if you can see some of his work later." Under the guidance of Khosure's practiced fingers, peach and purple lines merged to form a flowing image of a woman in a fancy hekana.

"See?" Khosure shoved the paper at me. "Just draw what you want. It doesn't have to have lots of detail or be absolutely perfect."

"That is a nice hekana," I finally commented, "but I would prefer wearing something like this." Next to Khosure's figure, I drew a rough image of a man in sleek black leather pants, a dark green turtleneck, and a wide, linked silver belt.

"Gangster," cheerfully teased Khosure.

"Pants and shirts are easier to move around in than old-fashioned Hothan clothing," I said.

"But lots of martial artists still use robes, and Haku wears hekashos because pants and shirts bother him."

"Hekashos are so bulky, though."

"Here, I'll show you an hekasho that wouldn't trip up people," Khosure began scribbling away again.

And so Rhena returned two hours later to find us still engaged in a good-natured drawing battle over hekashos vs. pants and discussing clothing theory, with paper smothering my bed and overflowing onto the floor.

Hotohori

Occasionally, I still burp a puff of smoke or two. I've had no other problems with my "dragon self" since my transformation five days ago. Small wonder my attacks were so bad, if I had that much fire pent up inside me. Somehow I doubt I'll suffer them again.

Since the transformation, I've divided my days between settling in to my new room, keeping Khosure company, going back to school, and experimenting with my fire abilities (outdoors, of course, in an ovcrgrown, secluded part of the garden nobody ever walks in). I have a responsibility to learn to control such dangerous powers. The first time I went out to experiment two days ago, I was able to blow a short plume from my mouth easily. Yesterday, I lit the tip of my finger, like putting a match to a candle. My skin did not burn, nor did the flame leave any marks whatsoever.

Today, I planned to see whether I could release fire from someplace other than my mouth. If I had a fireball in my hand, would I be able to toss it somewhere else? For purposes of preventing a wildfire, I'd brought along two buckets of water. Hopefully that would be enough. As I walked to the garden's overgrown section, weighty thoughts wafted through my mind. I turn into a fire-breathing dragon because of fallout from an old family curse. That alone gives one plenty to mull over. Haku and Hatsuharu had explained a little about the curse, but unsatisfactorily little. All that Khosure, Lhurone and I knew at this point was that there used to be a curse, and now it was manifesting in us in a different from; and that Asheno was a raging madman. Too much was left out; for example, Haku didn't outline the old curse's workings fully. How did the curse begin in the first place? How we were related to Asheno, besides his supposedly being our "god"? Our abilities were nothing like the regular Dzuni, the common one adhered to by most of Hoth, would implicate. The common Dzuni only dictated the kinds of personalities people were supposed to be born with. No fire-breathing or ghost wolves played a role.

The grotesquely oversized flame tree came into view. That was the only thing that bothered me about the overgrown section; the tree. Short trees are better adapted to the vicious environment of the Hothan mountain areas. This one tree was just unnaturally huge. I purposely kept a distance away from it. Today, maybe it was because I'd been thinking about the Dzuni, a supernatural feeling hung about the tree. It might've always been there, I'm not yet well acquainted with the sprawling Shoma estate. Several of its branches look like old, arthritic hands, reaching towards me, compelling me to gaze upon the tree. Strangely, rather than inspiring fear, the flame tree stirred nostalgic emotions within me. The empty branches mutely sang of glory, pride, and strength. Days when we were not dogged by neglect, fright or rejection. Just like we had been. And the Shomas who suffered under the old curse.

Perhaps we were the real Dzuni. Maybe over time the Dzuni had somehow become diluted in Hothan mythology, and the old family curse reflected that watered-down version. Our literature teacher had done a program on Hothan mythology, how our current mythology did not consolidate until well after the Dark Ages' termination. Even then, several versions of the same stories exist with regional variations. After exams, I should research the Dzuni. Maybe one of the forgotten versions will hold the key to the Shoma secrets. And while I'm at it, Haku may decide to start talking more. He knows more about the curse from that ghost of his, I'm sure.

"Tori! Where are you?"

"Damn!" I muttered as I spilled water in surprise at Rhena's voice. "I'm coming, Rhena!"

"My word, what are you doing with those buckets?" Rhena looked surprised as I walked towards her. She was standing near the center of the garden. "Never mind that, child, I came to fetch you because you've been summoned for an audience with Asheno in a few minutes."

Rhena caught my grimace. "Indeed," she nodded in agreement. "Just behave and end it as quickly as possible. You should put on a nice hekana—I have one that'll fit perfectly and go with that lovely hair of yours—this'll will be your formal introduction to Asheno."

"Will I have to see Asheno a lot?" He really gave me a sour taste.

"No, he's of a sickly constitution," Rhena said as we stepped into the main house and she steered me upstairs. "By the way, he's seeing Khosure now."

"But Kho is still weak!"

"Asheno insisted."

Khosure

The floor shimmied as I bowed my best deep bow to the creepy shadow on the chair who was now my guardian. It was so dark in here, did he have sensitive eyes? The darkness reminded me of sleeping, I was so tired. Playing with Lhurone earlier had been fun, but I needed my beauty rest now. And the air! So hard to breathe…when was the last time there'd been a whiff of fresh air in here?

"Good afternoon, guardian," I said as I slowly rose out of the bow.

"Khosure. You look just as silly as the last one." The disapproving tone in his voice bit at my ears. "Hmph. Just like your so-called friends, a failure. You don't even sound like a proper snake. What shall I do with you, hmm?"

How could I respond to that? Haku said something about an old curse—but I wasn't really listening, I was so tired and scared. For a long time Asheno said nothing.

I almost wished I were back in the shack in Ghunene, at least I'd known what to expect from Cook.

"Answer me, you worthless creature."

My quivering knees gave way, and sat on the floor, supported by my arms. Just like Cook. I shouldn't be alive. Soft vibrations from the carpet tingled through my hands. A pair of thin, white feet appeared under my eyes.

"What is your last name, anyway?" One foot, crisscrossed with the brightest blue veins I'd seen, tapped impatiently.

My usually noble voice only managed a stuttering squeak. "A-Ahame." The foot stopped tapping. Asheno choked, then started chuckling.

"Ahame? Really? Oh, how funny, if only he knew!" The chuckling merged into full-blown laughter. "Ahame! Maybe this won't be so bad after all."

Cold fingers touched my chin and forced my face upwards. He leaned down until our noses almost touched. It became painfully clear to me that the man didn't brush his teeth as often as he should. His poisonous breath curled into my suffering nostrils as he slowly formed each word.

"Ahame…and you even look just like him. Dear me, you're still weak, aren't you? Of course, snakes don't like the cold and the rain. You poor dear. I shan't keep you in here one second longer. Off you go, then." He stroked my hair, and on the last stroke tugged my hair ever so slightly. "I hope to see you again soon, when you are better." He smiled, a nasty smile, the kind where the eyes stay hard and don't twinkle. Asheno let go of my head and turned away. I scuttled to the door as quickly as I could, drawing in deep breaths of lighter air when I got out.

Hotohori

The sight of Kho panting, crawling on all fours, alarmed both me and Rhena.

"That man!" Rhena cursed under her breath, as we kneeled down to help Kho up. "Making Khosure see him in this condition…Oh, you're sweating Khosure, I'll have you tucked in a jiffy." Rhena focused on me. "Remember what I said," she whispered, shifting Kho's full weight onto her shoulder, "keep it as short as you can."

I watched as the two disappeared through the central hallway. My dark green hekana felt so heavy, bearing down on my shoulders. This was one of the older styles, before they started making the airy ones that didn't drag so much. My bare feet were cold, and goosebumps tingled on my arms and legs. The dark red wooden door stood as an ominous gateway into darkness. Taking a deep breath, I resolutely opened the door.

Keep it as short as you can.

Eyes downcast, I advanced humbly with small steps. Even the curtains had been pulled across the windows, and there were no lights. Amazingly, Kho had not passed out from breathing this long-buried air. My feet made no sound as they drowned in the carpeting.

When I judged that I'd advanced far enough, I glanced up. Nobody seemed to be here. Better safe than sorry, I bowed deeply and said, "Good afternoon, guardian, I, Zhuruth Hotohori, come to pay my respects to you." Straightening up, I waited as the interminable silence showed no signs of ending. Now a presence lurked somewhere in the unfriendly shadows.

"I always like seeing my Dzuni looking so beautiful," spoke a man's voice as a hand reached around and fondled my breast.

"What!" I yelled as I wheeled around, facing Asheno.

"Now, that wasn't nice. Is that any way to greet your benevolent guardian?" Asheno's lips had assumed a scolding position.

"You sexually harassed me!" Without thinking, I raised my hand. A core of burning heat formed within my palm, and I hurled the fireball at Asheno. It landed on his messy hekasho's sleeve, and illuminated the dank room with one magnificent burst.