One of those fair nights, far back in the past, his predecessor had told him a story before bed like he usually did. Those stories still clung to him, still filled his ears even though his mind's eye failed him.

"Once upon a time, Seiryuu, there was an old priest and a young priest who lived deep in the woods. The old priest was gifted and could hear the voices of the gods, and so as he meditated he came to know that his young disciple was to pass away in eight days. So the old priest told the young priest to go for eight days to visit his home, and without telling the boy of his fate the boy happily went to go visit his family."

"After a long walk, the young monk stopped at the bank of the stream to drink some water as he was getting thirsty. Then he saw there was an ant cave in which countless ants were going into and out of it. He stayed to observe for a while with interest. When he was just about to leave, he realized the stream's water was rising and would soon sweep away the ant hill. Quickly the young priest shed his robes and protected the ant hill, before continuing down to see his family."

"When the young priest returned the old priest was in shock that he had avoided his fate, until the young priest told him the story of the little anthill by the stream. By saving the lives of countless ants, the young priest had lengthened his life. That is the way good deeds are, Seiryuu. Perhaps they are insignificant. But maybe, maybe they'll matter in some way. Who knows."

"So…what should…I do?" Seiryuu asked him quietly.

"Be good. Whatever that means. I don't know. Sometimes I can't answer questions for you, brat."

The day was crisp and cool, but dry as days in the arid plains of the Fire Tribe tended to be. The village in the midmorning light was full of activity, but in a way that was completely different from both his home village and the city of Awa where they had gone afterwards. By both Hak and Yun's direction, they had made an effort to steer clear of villages for the most part on their journey, but now having taken up the role of bandits they had gone into a village brazenly under Yona's direction and idea of protecting the villagers and doing good by the people within the Fire Tribe.

But yes, that village was different from the ones he had experienced. Even as they came in, unlike his village buried in the caverns of a cave, or the city on the edge of the sea, the air wasn't thick with dust and grief and worry that lay an invisible but wholly present oppressive weight upon its peoples' shoulders. Even though the village was poor, neighbors spoke to each other kindly, walked from hut to hut leisurely as if enjoying the morning air for simply enjoyment's sake, and did their chores with a sense of purpose and lightness. And it was beautiful, Shin-ah couldn't help but think as he hung back from his comrades who spoke and went among the people to help them. There was the eye of a man glittering as it gazed upon a fellow fond face and brought out that day's product, the children playing hopping-and-singing games which bubbled up from their lips and popped in the air with giggles of delight, the mother weighing out pale grains as she treasured them as if they were golden coins, the grandfather and grandmother sitting by the well with sunlight and stories worn into their skin, and all of them were so beautiful.

Even if they had been scared at first at their presence (that of warriors and a possibly comical attempt to look like thieves), Shin-ah had watched as Yona had soothed them with her kindness and the villagers responded simply by leaving them be, and almost as if their presence had been a branch in a river, life began to move around them. It ebbed and flowed and returned to its natural course, and it swept their group up with it. Shin-ah was sure life would continue on as it had in this little corner of the world, no matter what blocks tried to stop it up.

But water didn't retain memories well, Shin-ah couldn't help but think. He wondered how long their presence might linger there, imprint itself in these lands? Shin-ah knew that Yun's plans were well thought out, after all the boy was meticulous and that was an admirable quality. Yun knew so many things, he was so smart after all, and the things he spoke of were those that Shin-ah didn't understand. If Yun said this would help the people, Shin-ah did believe him. But still he had doubts that skittered around his brain like spiders, weaving worries and troubles together to capture his thoughts and turn them sour. He could only hope that whatever actions they took managed to change the flow of the villages they tried to help permanently, rather than being a temporary detour in the path of the stream.

"They are so thin," Jaeha said to Kija who had nodded grimly, and thus breaking Shin-ah out of his revelry as he followed them to where Yona and Yun where seated. Thin? They had all seemed fine to him. Their hearts beat fine and they didn't have any illness ravaging their chests. Their cheekbones cut against their faces, and skin stretched a bit tight, but a bad harvest would do so, and soon the seasons would turn and the harvest would be better. One could hope, though never know because nature's whims were both fair and cruel. (He recalled then, suddenly, his first or second or third or fourth—those years right after his beloved disappeared ran together in a blur of time and space—rainy-season in the caves. With the farmlands gone, and fever clawing at them born from the damp and dankness, Shin-ah remembered in snatches of shadow-figures. A glimpse of the cloudy sky through the caves and the pain of his lip as his mouth filled with blood that could soothe the hunger that tore at him, he remembered the adults chasing rats into corners to make for meals, and children whittled away until they could have been blown away by storm-winds and their echoing cries. He remembered the eyes, the eyes judging him, their voices screaming at him, hands grabbing him and forcing him deeper and deeper into the caves, the monster that was being fed their precious food why must they give it to him when their children starved—to live is to devour others—!) And yet even in the worst of times his village had survived on, and Shin-ah was certain that this village would also survive on. Villages were much sturdier things then Jaeha most likely believed, Shin-ah thought.

"Yun, which village should we go to next?" Yona asked Yun as she reached out to pat Ao's head and they approached within listening-distance.

"Let's see," Yun said, grasping his chin as he usually did when he was in thought and resting his knees on his legs. "At this time, officers are supposed to go to Shuu village too."

"Is that far?" Hak asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yeah, a little," Yun conceded with a sigh. "What should we do? Officers might come to Katan Village again too."

"Then I'll go guard the Katan Village at once," Jaeha offered with an easy smile.

"Oh, that would be a big help," Yun said before looking to Yona who was currently cradling Ao in her hands. "Yona will wait here."

"Huh?" She asked before standing up in obvious confusion. "Why? I'm going too—"

"The next place is far, we don't know if officers will come," Yun explained clearly and Shin-ah couldn't help but shiver at the idea of Yona standing alone before officers (no he would rather have anything but that). "For our fighting force, the thunder beast and…right if Kija is there it'll be fine."

"Then Zeno will hold down the fort with Miss!" Zeno said cheerfully, only to be grabbed from behind by a very serious looking Kija.

"Don't you just run around in the middle of battle? This time I will teach you the ways of fighting like one of the Four Dragons, come."

"Eeeeeh?" Zeno whined, just as Kija turned around to face him. Though his expression was serious, Shin-ah could see glittering in the midwinter-sky of his eyes the trust and respect that Kija cultivated with every breath. What he was to say to Shin-ah was serious, Shin-ah knew so he leaned down close to take it in.

"Shin-ah, we're entrusting the princess to you," Kija told him, and Shin-ah nodded firmly in response. Protecting Yona was something Shin-ah would have done anyways, after all he was reluctant to leave her side unless she asked him too. She was a precious, important existence. And if Kija had asked him to do it, he took that even more to heart. Kija was as proud and diligent as all the good heroes in the stories woven by kind mothers on cold evenings, and Kija more than anything carried with him that epic pride to everything he did. If Kija was the one entrusting him with a task, Shin-ah would have been honor bound to complete it, for he knew if Kija could he would do so with vigor and heart.

He trusts me, something in Shin-ah sung. And Shin-ah was happy. Happy he could help, even though Yona's disappointment nearly radiated into the air and tinging it like a dreary autumn drizzle. After all, Shin-ah couldn't help much with the villagers like Yun could, or bring supplies like Jaeha, or direct people like Hak, or use his arm like Kija, or bring cheer like Zeno, or light and hope like Yona. But Shin-ah was very good at guarding and watching, after all he had guarded his village for many years. If it was a task like that, even Shin-ah could be useful.

As Yona sat down, and Shin-ah sat by her as their companions left, felt more at peace than ever before as he played with Ao upon his lap. Yona looked dejected, and Shin-ah wished that he knew what to say to help cheer her up, but the words didn't come like Hak's might, nor did an embrace like Zeno. Shin-ah wasn't sure if those things could be comforting from him. He could give her his fur, but perhaps not. If it was warm out to him than it was certainly warm to her and she might not need it. But then again, if Yona needed something from him that he could help her with, Yona was sure to ask. And so he sat there with Ao in his lap and Yona by his side until her words washed over him.

"Can't be helped," Yona sighed like storm winds, conflicted and strong, her lips pursed as she leaned over her knees as if physically containing her feelings of disappointment. "It was out of my control."

Suddenly he felt Yona lean, prickled at the sensation of her reached over his shoulders. Immediately Shin-ah jumped away his reaction totally instinctual as he tried to get his sword away from her grasp as quickly as he could.

"Please Shin-ah, lend me your sword!" Yona asked and he shook his head immediately remembering red dripping from pale skin, the blade of his sword digging into her skin and hurting her. No, he would do anything to keep her from that. Acknowledging his reluctance Yona's expression of disappointment turned to a begging. "Fine…then let me watch you practice your swordsmanship."

Watch? Shin-ah couldn't help but think in surprise. Well, he hadn't practiced that day yet, and it would be good for him to do his exercises. If Yona would be happy with watching him, then Shin-ah would be glad to do so.

Shin-ah chose a spot just outside of the village, watching as Yona settled down before beginning. The movements were engrained in him after years of practice and use. He moved from form to form fluidly, the sword a natural extension of his self as he did so. His goal was to always bring down his enemies fast, so strike them down quickly and parry naturally and to leave no openings for the enemy to break through. A well-times dance between steps, with whistling sound of his sword and the beat of his steps to guide him—

"Shin-ah, why did you start learning the sword? You already have the power of the dragon eyes." Yona asked him as he returned to his first form, her question breaking him out of his rhythm-induced trance with a twitch. Shin-ah let his sword arm fall to his side, while still keeping it close. He felt his lips turn down, as he looked off into the barren fields of the village, and at his obvious discomfort he heard Yona release a breath. Her lips turned up into a sad smile which made part of Shin-ah ache. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

Watch me carefully, Seiryuu—no, no don't hold it like that! You need to watch me carefully, you need to pay attention, do you understand? You have to watch me so you can learn as quickly as possible. Now come on, brat, one more time hold up that stick for me and I'll show you again…

"…the one…" Shin-ah said, his voice hitching but gaining strength as he spoke as flashes of memories bubbled up from the pool in his mind, it's surface too close after the previous night's dream had roused them, "…the one who taught me swordsmanship…told me to not use the power of my eyes."

"Why?" Yona asked and Shin-ah felt strange, no, no he was fine but he didn't feel quite right. The things he didn't like to think about were too close. Everything else was far away but he could see them and they were close.

"Because they are a…double edged sword," Shin-ah answered, closing his eyes but the flashes were there and instead he found the ground much more comforting to look at. The trees' naked branches reached for him and clawed down the sky until it was all much too close…

"…is it because they hurt you too?" Yona's voice was far away as he stood there without an answer, his heart beat was loud, too loud, blood rushing in his head that sounded so much like rain and everything—everything—"What on earth kind of powers…are yours—

Shin-ah

The ground wasn't the arid sands of the fire tribe but cold rain pounded against his skin, mud filling up his boots no the branches—the hands of the fallen were reaching for him, raking through the mud to scrape at his skin, their moans and screams bubbling up from sludge filled throats of laughter—laughter—Stay away monster!—Please don't kill me—

"Finally I can die!"

No! Shin-ah was begging as he was pulled down deeper, clawing at his mask to make it all stop—he was being buried deeper into the caves away from the light, and he couldn't see anything in that darkness, there was nothing there, nothing there at all! Please don't leave me, I'm here—

"Shin-ah."

Light suddenly broke through the frayed edged of his mind as Yona's arms came around him, anchoring back into the present from where he had been drowning in the past. His mask touched her shoulder, his sword had fallen to the ground from his numb finger tips, and she gently touched his neck as he warm touch radiated through him and brought him back to his body.

"Shin-ah," Yona called again her hand moving from his neck to his face as he regained his strength and looked up to meet her gaze before she pressed their foreheads close, and he wore he could feel her warmth through his mask. "Sorry, Shin-ah. I won't ask again."

Suddenly the chill overtook him again as Yona's hand reached for the edge of his mask. He turned quickly, pressing the mask to his face firmly as he did so.

"You can't remove your mask?" Yona asked so gently, "Shin-ah, you don't have to use your power. It's just…I want to look you in the eyes when we talk."

Shin-ah didn't answer, as Yona continued to look into him. Shin-ah was sure that within that violet gaze she could gaze into places deep within him that Shin-ah wasn't even sure that he knew. To her, Shin-ah was sure his heart lay open and as she smiled he felt warmed.

"It'll be fine. Someday, let me see your smiling face, okay?" Yona told him before her lips curved up like the horizon at dawn, her radiance filling her cheeks and his world with color. "I'm sure it'll be lovely!"

For a moment he breathed, his answer was on the tip of his tongue. He wanted—

"The Dark Dragon and the Happy Hungry Bunch—" A boy announced as he jumped over, he was little and bundled up by a fond hand, hands and face smudged with play, "—'s boss lady!"

"Wh-what's up?" Yona asked her voice taking on a different tone, an attempt to appear unrefined.

"Give me some candy," The boy stated rather than asked expectantly.

"I don't have anymore," Yona said as she stood up. "Hold on! I'll shoot down a bird for ya."

Shin-ah sat on the ground, with only Ao by his side. It was odd, because he had grown accustom to all the activity. To Jaeha's odd jokes, Hak's remarks, Kija's replies, Zeno's cheers, Yun's chiding, and Yona's light laughter. Suddenly it was only the sounds of the village, his head felt very empty, as Ao hopped over to sit in front of him.

Let me see your smiling face, okay? Yona's voiceswirled and danced likes leaves caught in a breeze, he caught just a snatch before it flew away.

"She said…smiling face?" Shin-ah asked Ao who looked back at him with her deep full eyes, "What do I do?"

Ao's mouth had raised edges, perhaps if he could copy her he might be able to get it. And though he tried to move his lips that way he found he couldn't make it move. So instead he pressed his fingers to the side of his lips, and pulled them up manually, just as two more children came bounding over to grab the horns of his mask making his fingers slip.

"The Dark Dragon and the Happy Hungry Bunch!" One of the boys laughed.

"Bandits have appeared, let's get rid of them!" The other boy said, before nearly skipping over to where his sword lay abandoned upon the ground, lifting it. "I got his sword!"

No! Shin-ah thought with a start as he began chasing after them. No, children with their love-stitched features, who played singing songs as they learned to weave, who fished in rivers they weren't meant to fish in, who weaved lumpy crowns, and played through the seasons and beyond, swords weren't meant to fall into their hands. Shin-ah was meant to protect them from swords which would hurt them, keep them from the blades made them bleed red like Yona's palm had. But he reached out to take the sword, before freezing, every part of him screaming because he couldn't touch them. If he touched them, if he took his sword back he would hurt them he would taint them—

He looked, coming to the knowledge suddenly he had been standing stock still, and just as quickly he realized the children were gone.