Insignia (4 page)

“Of course, My King.” I had been raised to
obey and serve the heavenly animals from a young age, and was more
than honored to be given this duty. “I serve at your request.”

“Excellent. First, we will change your
appearance. Sleepwear will not do.” The
qilin
seemed to
smile at this; his wide mouth opened on one side only.

I looked down at my pajamas and laughed too,
imagining my hair was even more a disaster.

“Stand still.” The
qilin
breathed his
magical fire over me and I closed my eyes. When I opened them,
there was a mirror before me and I gasped at my reflection.

The
qilin
had dressed me in an
old-fashioned ball gown of layered yellow silk. The skirt billowed
around my narrow waist and rustled deliciously as I moved. The
bodice was tight with a high neckline and short puff sleeves. I
felt like a Disney Princess, all that was missing was a tiara. My
long hair hung softly curled down my back and shone under the full
moon.

“Thank you! It’s stunning.” I twirled
again.

“The dress is from your own imagination. You
look quite lovely, I’m sure
Qu Liang will
agree.”

“That’s his name?”

“Yes. You may address him and introduce
yourself, but be brief with your message. Remember, your goal is to
get him to start dreaming again. Once that happens, you’ll have all
the time you need to teach him to use his gift correctly.”

I understand,” I said. “Okay, I’m
ready.”

The
qilin
sat down on his back legs.
“I will stay here and will open a window for him to see and hear
you, but you won’t have long.”

“Okay.” I walked towards the young man who
was leaning against the barrier and viewing the photos he had taken
on his digital camera.

“Qu Liang.” He didn’t look up. “Qu Liang,” I
said again, louder.

This time he looked up and his eyes widened
in surprise.

“Hello, Qu Liang, I am Ting Sun. I want to
talk to you, but only have a brief minute to do so. Listen closely,
you must stop taking the sleeping herbs and open yourself to dream
again. If you dream, we can meet and talk, and I can help you
understand what the dreams mean.”

He continued to stare at me for a few
seconds and I feared our connection would break before he
agreed.

“I don’t dream. I have terrible nightmares.
I feel haunted and carry my fear into my daily life. I can’t live
like that,” he explained. The hurt inside him cut through in his
voice.

“I can help! I have a gift, like you, but it
takes time to learn and control. I can meet you in your dreams and
be your mentor, anytime you need me. Please, you must agree! I can
teach you what your mother should have.”

Mentioning his mother clearly hurt him; he
recoiled and frowned at me. Just as I despaired I had messed things
up, he spoke again.

“You know well of me and my situation, and
strangely, I know I have dreamed of you before. Only it was a rare,
pleasant dream.” He smiled at me then, both with his mouth and also
his beautiful dark eyes. “I would like to dream of you again, and
receive your teaching.”

I grinned back at him. “I would like to
dream of you too. Tomorrow night then?”

“Yes! I’ll wait for you, Ting Sun.”

I wanted to say more, but felt the magic
fading.

“The window has closed.” The
qilin
said behind me.

Qu Liang was still staring where I had
stood, but was no longer smiling. He blinked as if he had imagined
the whole thing.

“Will he really believe it and meet me, do
you think?” I asked the
qilin
.

“I believe so. You did very well, Ting Sun.
Thank you. It is important to the spirit world that he be available
as a medium.”

“Of course.” I understood the responsibility
he faced, similar to my own. While I served the animal world and
gods, my role as a messenger was important to keeping the different
worlds connected and crossings possible. I was still left curious
about our future connection, but I had to trust the
qilin
;
it had probably told me more than I should have known already.

I looked down and was saddened to see my
beautiful gown was gone. Oh well, there was still the return ride
home to look forward to.

“Shall we go back?” The
qilin
asked.

“Yes. But just a second, please.” I wanted
one last look at Qu Liang, to remember how he looked in real life.
He was packing up his camera gear and humming a soft tune to
himself. He slung the camera bag over one shoulder and walked off
towards the stairwell. I noticed he left a small object behind on
the barrier and I hurried over to see what it was.

I reached out, forgetting I was in
vision-form, but my hand still closed around the silver charm.

“Oh!” Examining the item, I saw it was a key
ring with a silver medallion hanging from it. To my surprise, there
was a
qilin
engraved on the surface. I spun around to my
qilin
.

“He has your charm. Does that mean you’re
his familiar?” All humans have an animal guardian in the spirit
realm. Until now, I hadn’t questioned why the
qilin
had come
to collect me, but now it made sense.

“Of course. I am yours as well.” Another
lop-sided smile.

“Wonderful!” I had been waiting to learn of
my own familiar, my mother having told me to be patient. She hadn’t
learned of her own until she was in her late thirties. I had met
numerous animals in my vision-walks, but all were transient and had
not identified themselves as mine. That the
qilin
had taken
me on filled me with happiness and a sense of satisfaction. I had
trained hard and been respectful, but never expected to have a
Heavenly One as my familiar spirit. “My One, I am honored to be
your familiar in the human realm.” I bowed, as I had been taught
and the
qilin
bowed his head in acceptance.

“I’ve watched you since your first
vision-walk, Ting Sun, and was impressed by your maturity and
respect to the animal kingdom. I’m aware you wish to study to be a
veterinarian? I encourage this path for you.”

“Thank you, it is my dream to serve the
animals in both realms, Great One.” I wondered now the significance
of the
qilin’s
support, since he had just said Qu Liang and
I would meet in the near future. Perhaps we would attend the same
university?

“It is a gift to us all that you should do
so. Now, I must return you to your bed. We will fly back again, but
you may sleep now if you are tired.”

“No, I want to enjoy the ride!” I giggled.
Who knew if or when I would ever ride the
qilin’s
back
again.

“Come then, the return journey will be
faster, but I don’t object to showing you a few points of interest
along the way.”

We rose in the sky and as promised, the
qilin
took me over famous cities and mountains; ruins and
skyscrapers. The time passed too quickly though and I was soon
home, where I awoke in my real body and bed.

“Qilin? Great One?” I whispered. But I must
have drifted off along the journey and returned to my body without
time to say goodbye. It happened sometimes when I was separated for
too long.

With a sigh, I swung my legs over the side
of the bed and took a sip of water from the bottle on the desk
beside me. Remembering Qu Liang, I checked the small pocket in my
pajama top and was relieved to find his little
qilin
medallion. Had he purposefully left it for me? I believed so, and
couldn’t wait until the following night to ask him.

The End

‘The Red String of Fate’ by Holly Kench

‘Maidens of the Yangze’ by Kelly Matsuura

‘Black Smoke and Water Lilies’ by David Jón
Fuller

‘The Ghost Bride’ by Kelly Matsuura

The string around my ankle chafed. The length
of it tugged and pulled, tripping me up as I walked down the
street. Wrapping around posts and tangling in knots, it weighed me
down.

At first I was proud of the fine silken
thread. It was, my mother said, a sign I was destined for better
things. A husband was in my future. Yue Lao had blessed me and all
I had to do was wait.

As a child I toyed with the thread, twisting
it around my little finger and strumming it with my thumb as though
it were a
pipa.
I played the instrument of my ancestors and
dreamed the song of my future.

When the song was over, I whispered down the
thread, willing my words to reach the other end and wondering who
might be the bearer of my destiny.

“Are you there?” I called. “Can you hear me,
Husband?”

He was, I imagined, a warrior-prince. Too
busy to respond to my childish calls as he slayed advancing armies
in the quest to find his princess.

But before long this princess grew up. I
tossed aside my crown with the fantasies of childhood.

Despite my mother’s protests, I took up new
dreams.

Instead of imagining a prince, I saw a life
of infinite possibilities. A future of my own design.

But the thread pulled me. It tied me to an
unwanted reality, knotted me into expectation and restrained me
from imaginings of freedom and choice. One step in the wrong
direction and the thread dragged me back. The path of my fate was
set and the string that bound my destiny was unrelenting.

I was ungrateful. I knew this without doubt,
for my mother told me daily. The hours on her knees were a gift to
me. She prayed, so that Yue Lao gave.

And I was ungrateful. A word used to
describe my generation, it twisted into my existence, binding my
identity and knitting with the string around my ankle.

I saw flecks of my ingratitude vie with the
thread of my fate. They sparked with volatile opposition, heating
up until I thought the thread might break. Instead the expectations
of who I was, and who I would be, fused together. Fastening.

My ingratitude was as inescapable as my
future as Woman. Wife. Mother.

These were certainties given to me. And
freedoms taken away.

My mother saw the string as an anchor. It
would keep me good and safe. Unerring. Everything a daughter should
be.

I pictured my husband, for, at some point,
his face had become a certainty in my mind, despite the twists and
turns of the string that tangled behind me. If I were to see him in
the street, I would know him in an instant.

We were on this journey together. My
would-be husband and I. Although there was an unknown distance
between us, the thread ensured our mutual complicity. Without
meeting, we were partners, and without realizing it, I had become
as invested in his future as I was in my own.

I pictured his face. The mouth I knew would
always smile when he looked at me, and the eyes that showed his
smile to be true.

And I knew that, like me, his future was at
the mercy of the string at our ankles.

So I took that string and I cut. I sliced it
through with a kitchen knife.

With a single swipe our destinies,
intertwined for so long, split apart.

I walked forward, tentatively, one step at a
time, and the world did not collapse. Instead my steps moved
unrestrained and my destiny waited for me to point the way.

The End

Four men carried Mei Zhen from her house to
the river’s edge: her father, two elder brothers, and their
neighbor, Mr. Chao. Her mother and younger sister followed behind
part of the way, but stopped at the rocky steps that lead down to
the narrow beach. No doubt, they did not want sand on their dainty
bound feet.

I watched from a little way down the beach,
my bare feet sinking into the wet sand, my toes gripping me in
place with even more strength than Father’s grip on my arm.

I was not allowed closer. I could not say
goodbye nor kiss her pale cheek. The Huang’s were cruel, heartless
people; how they had a child as wonderful and sweet as Mei Zhen was
beyond anyone’s understanding.

As the procession crossed the sand, I
couldn’t take my eyes from Mei Zhen. They had wrapped her body in
white silk, with bindings of white rope and small flowers. A
generous funeral, but only I, Mr. Chao, and the Huang family knew
she was not really dead yet.

Mr. Chao had visited my house late the night
before and told me of the Huang’s plan to kill their insolent
daughter.

“She is still refusing to marry old Mr.
Zhou, and it is a great embarrassment to them,” he told me.

“She loves
me
,” I insisted. I knew
they would never let us marry, but Mei Zhen was still only fourteen
and we had hoped to have more time together before she was forced
into an arranged marriage.

“I know, I know.” Chao nodded. “But it is
done. They have given her a powerful sleeping potion and at dawn
they will drown her in the Yangze. They will then announce to the
town that she took her own life.”

“No!” I stood up in blind anger. “They can’t
do this! You must help me get Mei Zhen out of that house, to take
her somewhere safe!”

I was crushed with overwhelming feelings of
both anger and guilt. This wouldn’t be happening if I had kept my
love for her a secret and not tried to win over the Huang’s in
vain. Now, they knew everything, and Mei Zhen was to pay with her
life.

Mr. Chao sat calmly in my sitting room and
sipped his tea.

“Sit down, Jing Wei. The Huang’s have asked
me to help them tomorrow. I’m afraid that Mei Zhen will never wake
from the potion she was given, so we are too late to bring her back
to us, but there is one thing I can do.”