Chapter 6: Convergence

Hina drifted back towards consciousness with frustrating slowness.

The first thing she became aware of was pain, though not as much as she expected. Or—had she expected anything? If she was in pain, did that mean she wasn't dead? And why did she think she should be dead?

Lying there with her eyes still closed, Hina fought for memory. There—the poison user. That was the key. She had lost…she really should be dead. So why wasn't she?

But when she searched her memory further, all she could find was yellow fire—it must have been fire— the yellow fire, burning her skin…and though she hurt, she didn't that burning pain. It must have been an effect of the poison, a dying dream.

Which brought her back to the fact that she wasn't dead.

Hina tried to assess her condition, trying to keep her mind moving in an orderly fashion.

Her arm was still mostly numb—she couldn't feel the injury on her arm at all—but when she tried to move her fingers, they twitched in response.

Her chest—yes, the ribs she's broken in the fall. She remembered that. But…there was something off. After a moment, she realized that there was an unfamiliar tightness around her torso. Had someone bandaged her?

The haze in her mind retreated a little more, and it occurred to Hina to wonder where she was. She was lying on something softer than bare ground, and something seemed to be covering her…

She blinked her eyes open, only to find a worried-looking grey pair staring back at her. For an instant, the blue and grey sets of eyes locked on each other. Then, with a start, the owner of the grey pair jumped back and darted out of sight, leaving Hina only with the impression of a young face, framed by matching silver-grey hair.

Hina sat up slowly, warily. Whatever she had expected—Attack? Capture? Left for dead?—this wasn't it. Who was this young one? What was going on?

But when she looked down, a little of her wariness faded, only to be replaced with more confusion.

She had been right about the bandages—not only were her ribs bound under her kimono, but her right arm was in a sling.

Even more baffling, the injury on her arm, the one from the bird demon's first attack…it was completely gone.

When she noticed that, she also realized that none of the bruises and scrapes that should have marked her were anywhere to be found. Had a healer seen to her? If so, why were her ribs still broken and her arm still numb? And why would anyone out here do something like that? She was no one to anyone.

Before she could continue her train of thought, she was interrupted by a sudden increase in light. She held up her left hand to shield her eyes, and a soft voice came from that direction.

"I see you're finally awake."

The voice was a low tenor…how could any voice possibly go that low?

The light dimmed again, and Hina looked up. The light had come from a raised flap—Hina now realized she was in a large tent—and, in front of it, stood a man.

She stared at him, completely lost for words. She had never spoken to a man before, and she had no idea what to expect. The accounts she had read had varied—some said men were violent brutes who should be avoided at all costs, while others had taken a more neutral tone, saying they were necessary to the biology of the outside races.

She had been shocked when she'd seen the male ice-wielder (the demons she had fought had barely rated more than animals), but she thought she'd accustomed herself to the idea of interacting with males in this world.

She hadn't.

Instead, she just stared.

The ice demon had at least had some features in common with her people. This specimen was also taller than her, but there the similarities ended. His hair fell in a shaggy mane around his shoulders, and was completely black, except where the light hit it—there, it glowed a faint red. His expression, too, was unfamiliar. It called up very old, very faint memories…something about her mother, she wondered? It certainly wasn't any of the more common expressions among the koorime: not distain or arrogance (the ones most often directed at her over the last decades), not one of focus or analysis, not one of calm serenity. Rather, it seemed something…warmer.

The most striking feature about him, however, was his eyes.

They were large and completely red. Hina would have expected them to look…dangerous, at least, if not outright malevolent.

Instead, they were…gentle.

Hina found it thoroughly unnerving.

"Are you feeling well?" he inquired, stepping toward her and sitting down on a small cushion near where she was sitting, which she now recognized as on a mat on the ground, covered with a blanket.

"I…" Hina started, and then stopped. "Where am I?" she tried again.

Probably not the best start, she realized. What she should have said, she still wasn't sure, but that hadn't sounded very polite, and it probably wasn't wise to antagonize potential allies—or worse, potential enemies.

Before she could say anything else, however, the man inclined his head and answered.

"You are in a tent in a camp on the outskirts of Mashou City." He shifted his weight to a more comfortable position. "And to answer some of your other questions, no, you are not a prisoner; yes, you have been seen to by a healer, more or less, and the boy left to summon me."

Telepath? Hina wondered (though the thought vied for her attention with the strange sound of the word boy) —but when he didn't respond to her thought, she dismissed the idea. But…who…?

"Who are you?" Hina asked before she could stop herself. "I mean—" she tried again, but the man raised his hand.

"Forgive me. The host should introduce himself first. I am called Kirin."

Hina's eyes widened. Kirin? As in the legendary dragon-chimera? She had read a number of different accounts of the creature, though she didn't know which, if any, were true. All of them gave it a dragon's head and a close connection to fire, and most said they marked the arrival of a great sage. The other animals that made up the chimera's body varied; some said it had the body of a tiger, many said the body of a deer, some added the tail of an ox, or the scales of a fish, or the hooves of a horse. All accounts, however, agreed that the kirin was generally a gentle creature, but one that would not hesitate to bring fiery judgment on the wicked.

Kirin was watching her face carefully, seeming to read her like an open book…which Hina found unsettling. Among the ice maidens, reserve was valued, and standards of politeness dictated that people carefully ignore any slip until it became too obvious to overlook.

Still, whatever Kirin saw on her face, he kept it to himself. Instead, he gestured back over his shoulder as if he'd never paused. "And I am the leader off this camp." He looked back at her, expectantly.

It took Hina a moment to realize she was supposed to reciprocate. "I…" she tried, and then, "My name is Hina."

"Hina," he said, inclining his head. "Pleased to meet you."

"And you," said Hina, finally catching up to the conversation, the simplicity of formal questions and required answers putting her a little more at ease.

"May I ask where you've come from?" he said.

Hina hesitated an instant, and then replied "Mount Hinome."

Kirin raised his eyebrows a fraction, but nodded, accepting her answer…though he had to know that the mountain was uninhabited.

Before either could continue, the light once again brightened. The silver-haired youth poked his head into the tent.

"Kirin, sir? You asked me to call you…" he trailed off apologetically.

"Yes, thank you," said Kirin, rising to leave.

But there was one other question that weighed on Hina's mind.

"Why?"

Kirin paused and looked back at her. "Because you have potential."

Before Hina could ask him to clarify, he turned back again and said, "But that can wait. For tonight, at least, you are our guest. There," he pointed, "are water and clean clothes, if you'd like to get cleaned up. When you're finished, please, come and join us for dinner." With that, he turned again and left.

Hina rose slowly, considering his words. Crossing to where he had indicated, careful of her ribs along the way, she found a pitcher and basin of warm water—too warm for her comfort, actually. Using a little of her still-weak energy, she cooled it to a more comfortable temperature. Turning from it for a moment, she turned her attention to the pile of folded fabric beside it, which turned out to be a washcloth and a loose robe that looked like it would fit her. The style was similar to her normal robes, but she had never owned a garment like this—it was the brilliant red of the chimi fruits she loved so much.

Hina sat back of her heels, wondering. She was being treated better by complete strangers, from what was supposed to be the corrupt outside world, than she ever had been by her own people. She couldn't help but wonder if that said more about these strangers or the Koorime—and whether there was a catch.