TW for this chapter: nightmares, flashbacks, panic attacks, self...not sure whether harm or mutilation is the better descriptor there..., torture, enslavement

A brilliantly sunny day, hazy with heat. A young boy, hardly more than a toddler, walked along the road alone. He had small, downy wings sprouting from his back, and they would flap madly every time he jumped or skipped for the pure joy of movement, scattering bits of pale green fluff everywhere. He felt entirely safe here, so near home.

A cart rattled along the dirt and stone road, coming from the direction in which the boy was headed. Light flashed and flickered above the cart and at its sides; it was clearly some traveling merchant's cart, and it held plenty of shiny trinkets that might catch a child's eye. The merchant, a thin and bald but jovial man, smiled at the boy as he approached.

'Wait. I know this...'

"Why hello there, sweet child. Would you like to take a look?"

Attracted by the shine and glitter, the boy stuck a finger in his mouth before nodding eagerly. Laughing indulgently, the man let down the tray built into the side of the cart, revealing row after row of dazzling gems and jewelry, displayed to advantage on dark red velvet. Golden eyes widened in wonder and delight.

"Would you like to try one on? I have a mirror in here somewhere, so you can see how it looks. This one, perhaps?"

The man lifted the centerpiece of the display, a large, clear gem on a counterweighted chain that reflected the light more brilliantly than any other.

'No! Say no!'

The child bounced on his toes, little wings flapping, as he made grabby hands at the shiny object. The man smiled as he handed it over, then laughed at the boy's evident confusion as he moved the chain from side to side, peering at it from every angle.

"You wear that sort of gem like so."

He lifted out a similar piece, this one simple jade, and demonstrated how to set it along one's head with the counterweight in the back.

"Like tiss?"

The boy awkwardly put the counterweight behind his head, drawing the chain forward before -

'Don't!'

- pressing the brilliant gem to his forehead.

Everything froze for a moment, then the flesh near the gem writhed like there was something growing beneath the skin. The boy screamed.

'S-stop!'

Then the same movement appeared under his skin everywhere else, and the boy was now on the ground writhing with the agony, still screaming.

'P-please. It hurts. I d-don't want to r-r-remember...'

Shadows moved, time passed. The screams continued.

Darkness fell, and still no one came for the boy.

The moon rose, and the screaming finally gave way to gasps and sobbing. There was a crunch of gravel, and the man, now clearly no mere merchant, stood before the boy.

"Hmm, a strong one, aren't you. Good, good. You're mine now, boy. Stand up and come here."

The boy wildly shook his head, still sobbing, and pushed himself backwards with his hands and feet as fast as he could.

"Now, now, enough of that. Didn't I just say you were mine?"

The boy suddenly stiffened, and his eyes widened in horror as his body smoothly stood and walked to the man.

"Very good. Just remember...if you ever defy me again..."

The man's eyes were suddenly very cold, and seemed to drill into the boy's very mind.

"...what you just experienced will look like a nice day at festival."

Xiao woke screaming.

-*-.-*-.-*-.-*-.-*-.-*-.-*-.-*-.-*-.-*-.-*-.-*-.-*-.-*-.-*-

Early morning light filtered through the kitchen window as Morax quietly sipped his tea, trying to project patience. Madame Ping sat down at the little table with her own cup. He reminded himself that by now, she was probably more invested in the boy than he. He told himself that she wouldn't withhold information on his situation out of sheer spite.

But she would if she didn't think he deserved to know. Damn it.

He watched out of the corner of his eye as she sipped calmly and slowly, eyes closed in evident pleasure in the flavor. She lowered the cup and let out a pleased sigh, then raised it again.

...she was drawing this out on purpose, wasn't she...

He grumbled deep in his chest, and knew he didn't imagine the way the corner of her mouth twitched.

When she raised the cup for a third slow drag at the tea, he may have growled a little.

Madame Ping chuckled, and set the cup down.

"Alright, alright. I suppose I've tortured you enough."

"How is he?" He wasn't growling anymore. Much.

"Frankly, both better than I could have hoped, and worse than I feared. Bosacius worked miracles with him yesterday, and as a result I was able to treat almost all of his surface injuries and even got him to take some medication. Unfortunately, he seems to be...more badly injured than we knew, and has an outright terror of being touched in certain areas, even with the aid and comfort of someone he seems to trust. I'm worried what I'll find when I am able to actually get a close look there."

Morax grunted and folded his arms, staring down at his cooling tea. Given the reports his yaksha had provided on what they'd found in Moharus' domain, he couldn't say he was surprised. They had also reported a few mysteries, one of which had him quite concerned for the little adeptus.

"Were you able to get a good look at his forehead?"

"His...? You mean that odd recent scar? It seemed to be healing fine on his own, so I didn't prod at it, if that's what you mean. Even with Bosacius there it was a struggle just to get the open wounds dealt with. Why?"

"Just...something the yaksha found after the battle, that's all. If you say it seems fine, I'll trust your judgement."

"Hmm."

Madame Ping stared at him for a long moment consideringly, then turned back to her morning tea. He was glad she didn't question him further.

The yaksha hadn't found any other survivors, other than a few human slaves they'd promptly freed per his standing orders. Most of Moharus' warriors had fought to the death with a desperation that was disturbing; others had simply collapsed and stopped breathing when their god had died. And then there were the other bodies...bodies with a scar on the forehead like Xiao's, mostly without any mortal injuries but contorted as though they'd died in agony. All the bodies with that scar were adepti, or other similarly powerful beings. They were all down in some secret chambers that hadn't been found until late yesterday, along with a number of other strange and horrifying discoveries.

Morax saw no need to burden the healer with this, if it could be avoided.

"What of food, and rest? He clearly needed both, when I saw him last."

"The medication I gave him knocked him right out. I saw no reason to take chances there, when I could simply force the issue. He should wake in an hour or two. As for food...no luck there. He drank some water but flatly refused the broth he was offered, apparently repeatedly telling Bosacius he didn't 'require' food."

The healer took a quick, almost hurried gulp of her tea, glancing at him before looking away.

"I knew you were likely to show up this morning, and I hoped...he clearly sees you as an authority figure..."

The dragon stared at her, fury rising. It was all too easy to see what she was driving at. He felt scales trying to grow in, fangs trying to lengthen, and forced his form back to stability, holding his body still until he mastered his emotions.

"It has been abundantly clear he thinks I am his new master, not merely an authority figure. Is that not why you had me keep away yesterday? So he would not be terrified every waking minute by my presence? And you want me to order him to eat? Do you really think what he needs now are more orders?!"

He didn't even remember standing. Unable to suppress the growl in his voice, the god glared at his chief healer, slamming his hands down on the table as he leaned forward.

"I purposely kept his contract as simple as I could for this very reason. That boy has had too many orders, too many rules, too many restrictions in his life, and I will not add to it more than is strictly necessary! Am. I. Clear."

"Perfectly."

The damn woman was completely unfazed by his anger.

"However, while I see where you are coming from, you are mistaken in some aspects of your conclusions."

Morax ground his teeth.

"Explain."

"Xiao was not simply a prisoner, or a child of abuse. He was a slave, for how long? A decade? A century? Longer? Up until the death of his master, how long do you think it had been since he was last able to make a choice? A decision of any kind, much less about his own preferences, desires, well-being?"

He snorted, and looked away.

"Your point?"

"I know you have not interacted much with human slaves, my lord, beyond demanding they be freed where possible. But some things are consistent in their behavior once freed. Many of them - especially those who'd been that way longest, or in the worst situations - don't know how to handle freedom at first, no matter how desperately they wanted it. The rules they lived with, while generally terrible, told them how to survive, what to expect, what had a good result and what resulted in pain. They almost always need time and help to figure out how to live on their own again. The child...even as young as he is, he was likely a slave for longer than any mortal could be. Yes, he needs to learn how to make his own decisions, that it's okay to do things without being told to. But completely stripping away all of that from the start, leaving him with no direction and no hints he knows how to read with regards to what he should do..."

"Is like removing the ground from beneath his feet. I see."

Morax let out a heavy sigh. He wanted desperately to completely change the boy's world immediately, show him what life could be, should be for one such as him. To see the fear and uncertainty in those wide golden eyes replaced with the joy and wonder every child deserved. But he took Madame Ping's point, it would have to be slow, or it would overwhelm him, and maybe make things worse.

"How...how long will this process take?"

The healer's turn to sigh.

"That's up to him, mostly. I imagine getting his body in better shape will help his mind ease - that's part of why I so badly want to get him fed - but you have to be prepared, Morax. It could take a long time. Healing the mind and soul usually does."

The god rubbed at his temples. He seemed to have a constant headache, these last couple days.

"Alright. I will cooperate for now. But I want Xiao weaned off the notion that I am his...master...as soon as possible, understood? The notion is beyond repugnant."

"Of course, that was always my - "

Madame Ping's words were cut off as terrible screams reached them from down the hall. Adeptus and god were out of the kitchen in an instant, sprinting for Xiao's room. Morax's longer legs got him there first, and he slammed the door open to a nightmare.

Xiao was sitting bolt upright in the bed, his eyes were wide and unseeing, barely visible beneath hands that clawed at his forehead. The screams continued unabated, but for brief pauses to suck in air. Blood already coated his fingers and face, running down to drip onto his shoulders.

Morax didn't hesitate, quickly crossing the room and sitting behind the boy for leverage as he seized Xiao's hands and forced them away from his face. The child struggled with panicked strength, and the god was forced to hold onto his wrists with one hand each and hook a leg around the boy's middle to hold him in place, terrified he'd break something.

"Hold him there, try to reach him. I'll send for Bosacius."

Morax nodded distractedly, focusing on holding Xiao still without using so much strength he broke the boy's wrists. Where Xiao found such strength, as starved and depleted as he was, the god had no idea.

"It is alright, Xiao, you are safe here. Calm down, please...no one is going to hurt you...The contract, remember? I swore to protect you? There is no danger here, calm, calm..."

He struggled to keep his own voice calm, remembering what Madame Ping had told him after he'd raced for her help the previous morning. Was he struggling a little less?

"It is alright, child. I am not going to hurt you. I am restraining you because you were hurting yourself. I will let you go once I am certain you are not going to do so any further. Calm. Please, calm down. There is no reason to panic. You are safe here."

Thank the stars the boy hadn't activated his anemo powers in his panic.

"You are safe. There is no danger here. Please calm down. You are in your room at Madame Ping's, remember? No one here will hurt you. Please, please calm down."

There was a sound at the door, and Morax glanced up to see his top yaksha enter the room ahead of Madame Ping, and gave him a pleading look. Bosacius gave him a nod, then moved forward cautiously to take Xiao's face in two hands and look into his eyes.

"I'm here, little whirlwind. You're safe now. Can you look at me? Feel my hands on your cheeks? Listen to my words and breathe, little whirlwind. Can you feel the blanket on your legs? That's real, that's here where you are. Breathe. Focus on my voice, on my hands, on the world around you. Breathe."

After a little, the screams stopped, though small, terrified sounds still kept coming from the little adeptus' throat, and now that his lungs weren't occupied with screams, he was starting to hyperventilate. His eyes grew more aware, but he didn't stop struggling, didn't stop reaching to claw at his own forehead, and the way his eyes moved around, it seemed he still didn't quite see his surroundings properly.

Morax closed his eyes for a moment, remembering the conversation that had been interrupted. Clearly, what Bosacius was doing wasn't enough...this was not going to be pleasant.

"Xiao."

He spoke firmly, a little sharply, with a hint of reprimand, and tried to ignore the way Bosacius' gaze snapped to him in shock.

"Stop fighting us. Now."

Those golden eyes stared directly up into his own for a long moment, and then the small body he was holding shuddered and went limp. Xiao stopped fighting, instead collapsing into quiet sobs. The moment it was clear he wouldn't hurt himself, Morax let him go, disentangling himself from around the child's waist. He tried to get off the bed, to give Xiao some space and leave the comforting to someone who could get away with it - namely, Bosacius - but the moment he tried to stand, his hip spasmed and he fell.

Damn it. He supposed it was his own fault for contorting like that. Madame Ping was going to lecture him when this was all over. He glanced up at Xiao, hoping he had not alarmed him further - and was surprised to see the boy looking back at him with less fear than previously. Tears still leaked from his eyes, but he'd already stopped sobbing, somehow.

"This...this one is sorry."

Morax blinked, looking up at Bosacius briefly where he was dabbing at the blood on Xiao's face with a damp cloth, then back down at the child.

"There is nothing you need to apologize for, Xiao. I am glad you were able to calm down."

Xiao looked down, causing the yaksha to sigh with frustration as he missed his target. Madame Ping stood behind Bosacius, ready with some antiseptic and bandages.

"This one lost control, and caused a mess, and caused trouble for Master Morax, and the mighty one, and the honorable one. I-is this not bad?"

The god threw a helpless glance at Madame Ping, who gestured for him to answer. He tried to shift to a slightly more comfortable position than how he'd landed, but his hip twinged in warning. He would have to stay put for now, it seemed.

"Losing control is not ideal, this is true. However, it seems to me you regained that control as soon as you were aware of the true situation, did you not?"

The boy hesitated, then nodded.

"Then you did what was within your ability to rectify the situation, and that is all I can ask for."

Xiao looked puzzled by this, but did not argue. He twitched as Bosacius' efforts got closer to the actual wounds, but did not pull away. When the large yaksha moved to allow Madame Ping access for the next step, though, the child glanced back up at Morax then away.

"The sleeping, and crying. Are these...not bad...as well?"

The child tensed as he asked the question, and Morax had to close his eyes for a moment. His heart hurt, and he didn't know which he wanted more, to scoop the child up and protect him or track the body of Moharus down and rip it into a hundred pieces, in the hopes he'd still be able to feel it somehow. Neither reaction would help right now, he supposed...he took a deep breath and opened his eyes, speaking firmly in an attempt to quash all doubt.

"No. It is not wrong to sleep or cry. All beings need rest, and sometimes, crying is necessary as well, in order to process pain and emotions. You will never be punished for either, while you remain in lands under my control."

That puzzled look again, but the boy nodded, and seemed to accept his words for now, at least. The god sighed with relief, and watched as Madame Ping bandaged Xiao's head.

"As he says, little one, it is not wrong to cry. However, we would like to make it so that you need to cry less often, if we could. Would you be willing to tell us what scared you so badly?"

A moment's silence, and an answer that was almost too quiet to hear.

"Th-this one had a bad dream."

Well, clearly there was more to it than that. A mere 'bad dream' would hardly leave him screaming and clawing his own head bloody...would it? Morax looked to Madame Ping, but she didn't seem to notice.

"Would you tell us about it?"

Promptly Xiao started shaking, scrunching in on himself in a defensive fashion. Morax immediately regretted the question.

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to, Xiao."

Xiao nodded, but added rocking back and forth to his shaking, not seeming to notice Bosacius rubbing his shoulder to soothe.

"I...I'll get you some breakfast, shall I?"

Morax struggled to his feet, wincing. Xiao didn't seem to notice, still rocking, and guilt stabbed at the god's chest. He swallowed thickly, and limped quickly from the room.

He slammed his hands onto the edge of the counter as soon as he reached the kitchen, leaning forward on them and bowing his head as he struggled for control. He ignored the way his horns scraped on the cupboards. That wasn't important right now.

He wasn't used to this. This wasn't how things went. Normally, when he took in those who had served a god he'd defeated, it was mostly handled by his adepti. He or one of his top yaksha would handle the interrogation, make sure they were safe to bring in; he would personally work out the terms of a contract with them - though really, most of the contracts were virtually identical, within a category; and then the humans would go to the harbor, and any adepti so gained were welcomed by those already established. There were rarely all that many at once. Usually, when a god was defeated, the last place their followers wanted to go was to the one who'd defeated them. But it happened on a regular basis nonetheless, and there was a familiar process that he was used to.

Normally, the new followers didn't have a reputation as alarming as that of Alatus.

Never before had one been both an adeptus, and a child.

The first meant Morax had to keep a personal eye on him, he had known that from the start, even with the contract. He would never forgive himself if he'd misjudged the boy and his people paid the price. He had been prepared for the extra involvement from the moment he'd told Bosacius to carry him back here. He had not thought it would be much; occasionally stopping by to check on the boy, making certain to get regular reports from the adepti involved in his recovery. Morax had never been counted a particularly loving god; he cared for his people, of course, and wanted what was best for them, but it was from a distance, mostly. He was a warrior; while he led his people, he'd always felt his proper place was more that of a protector or guardian than anything else. It had always been Guizhong who...

He squeezed his eyes shut.

'It's been a thousand years. Why does your absence still hurt so much?'

In Guizhong's absence, he'd been forced to learn some of what she had done in leading their people, of course. He took audiences with his adepti, and had a standing invitation for the humans to approach him should they ever have a problem with said adepti, though they had yet to take him up on it. He met with his healers as well as his generals, he met with those in charge of supplying the town. He did his duty, but he did not let himself get too close, not since...there were some who knew him well, who had known her. Madame Ping. Bosacius. Cloud Retainer. A handful of others. And he could not help but feel a fondness for some of his devoted yaksha, the warriors he directed and fought beside. His generals, of course, that little spitfire Yanlais, the young Pervases.

But none of them affected him like this.

What was it? His youth, the vulnerability he tried so hard to hide? The way he took responsibility for his actions, despite clearly being terrified of the consequences? Perhaps it had been the fear in his eyes. Morax did not like having a child terrified of him. He desperately wanted to prove the boy didn't have to be. His mind replayed the way Xiao had launched himself away when Morax had tried to catch him, the shaking mess he'd been after. It was wrong. It needed to be fixed.

Maybe it was the way the young adeptus represented everything he was trying to protect his people from, both in what he had been forced to do, and in what he had been forced to endure.

"Are you alright, Morax?"

The god startled at the question. He hadn't heard Madame Ping come in. He realized that in his tension, his claws had carved out curls of wood from the counter, and grimaced.

"I am fine, as always, Madame Ping. The boy?"

She snorted.

"I know you better than that, old friend. Sit down before you do more damage to your hip. Bosacius is working on calming Xiao down, and I have no doubt he will succeed, so how about we have that breakfast you promised ready when he does, hmm?"

Morax sighed and sat down as ordered.

"I don't know what to bring him..."

Madame Ping was already getting into the cryo box. She took out a small pot full of liquid and set it on the stove to warm.

"I know you don't, that's why I came after you. Some broth is all he's likely to tolerate right now."

The healer eyed him as she stirred the pot's contents.

"Since I know you won't let me check your hip, why don't you tell me what was so disturbing your mind that you tried to destroy my kitchen counter?"

He winced. She'd noticed, then.

"I will fix it later."

"That's not what I asked."

He huffed a little and glared. It had no effect on the aggravating woman; she simply raised an eyebrow at him. He looked away.

"I was trying to figure out how the child has such a grip on my heart."

Madame Ping smiled sadly.

"It's right there in your own words. He is a child. You like to pretend to be cold and distant, Morax, but Guizhong knew better, and so do your friends."

The broth began to simmer, and the healer left off stirring to sit at the table with her old friend, taking one of his hands in her own.

"You can try to protect yourself with walls around your heart, but it won't work. You have always cared too much to be able to hide that way. There was never any way that brave, frightened child would not have found a way in, once you spent any time around him. And that is not a bad thing, Morax. You and I, Bosacius and the others, we will all help him to recover and grow. And in return, he will help us to see the world anew, to remember what it is to have fun, and will heal hurts of our hearts and souls simply by existing. That is the way of children."

The broth began to boil in earnest, and Madame Ping patted his hand before she withdrew to pull it from the stovetop.

"Think on it, will you? I think a relationship between the two of you would do you both good."

Morax sighed.

"I will try."

"The broth is ready. Shall we go?"

The healer waited for him to stand, then handed him a mug of warm, translucent yellow liquid. He frowned.

"Are you certain about this? It does not seem appetizing..."

"I am. I doubt he can handle solids at all, and I suspect strong flavor would be a shock to his palate. This is warm and should feel comforting inside him, and has about as many nutrients as can be packed in such a thing."

"You are the healer..."

He sniffed at the mug doubtfully, and grimaced. It was a poor substitute for a proper meal, but he trusted Madame Ping knew what she was doing. He headed back to Xiao's room, doing his best to hide his limp. The hip had been tended to after the battle; one of the yakshas with healing abilities had dealt with the deep cut and his other minor wounds. It truly was fine. If he could just stop bashing it into things, contorting the joint to hold panicked children, falling on it...

On reaching the boy's room, he was relieved to find the Xiao sitting fairly calmly on the bed, blanket around his shoulders, listening to...something Bosacious was saying. Something about a wind spirit in a rainstorm? He had no idea.

Xiao looked up almost instantly when he appeared in the doorway, staring at him for a brief moment before tucking his head submissively. Bosacius blinked at the boy, then looked up and smiled when he saw Morax.

"Ah! Is that his breakfast?"

"Indeed." Morax stepped forward and passed the mug to the yaksha to hand to the boy. Xiao had reacted...better than expected...to his presence so far this morning, but he didn't want to push it.

Unfortunately, it looked like the boy had no intention of drinking his broth. He just stared at it for a long moment, then looked to one side, away from both of them.

"This one does not require food."

"Come now, little whirlwind, that's not true. You're a growing kid, your body needs nutrients to keep you healthy."

"This one does not require food."

"Xiao. Do you remember our contract?"

"...yes, master."

Morax tried to cover a flinch. He really, really hated being called that, and all it implied.

"On my end, I am sworn to care for you and see you healed. Keeping you fed is part of that agreement."

Silence. He sighed.

"Xiao, drink it."

A moment's hesitation, then...

"Yes, master."

And the boy started to drink the broth.