“So, how was it?” Robin looked hopefully around the camp.

“Eh, so-so,” Gunnar spoke matter-of-factly.

“Bwah! Tsk, you bloody-”

“It was quite nice Robin.” Cob said placatingly, raising his hands, “I especially liked the ending.”

“Hmph, you bloody well better have. My mother taught me that one.” Robin crossed her arms.

“Mine did as well,” Bryan said. “Except in mine the ox is a tiger, and the crone and cauldron are just a wyvern.”

“I remember her telling that one. It always put you right to sleep if I remember correctly.” Brack smiled, “Who’s next?”

“I am.” Miru stood up and began to walk gracefully towards Brack. She stepped around Trout, who was almost finished preparing the elk, and placed herself between Brack and the unlit campfire. “I believe that eye contact is important when telling a story.”

“Fine by me,” Brack said, grinning bemusedly at Miru.

Miru straightened her posture and began to recite.

**********

The midnight sky was pouring rain onto the city of Quan Zho. Fao’shi was rushing through the still bustling street, his mission was important, very. Fao’shi did not notice the rain or the people that passed him, all he could think of was how he could enter the palace and escape before the Sun rose. He had to succeed, his window was closing fast.

Fao’shi passed the guards at the front gate. He was wearing his disciple robes so he passed without question. After he passed, he made sure to check the pouch sewn into the inside of his robe. It had to be dry for his plan to work and it was, thankfully. He jogged through the empty halls when he saw that no one was looking and managed to grab some pink powder from his pouch whilst doing so. He arrived at his destination earlier than he had intended.

The stone-guard standing in front of the door frowned at Fao’shi and said, “How many times do you have to be told, man? She is not yours any longer.”

“No.” Fao’shi replied, “She is nobody's.”

With that Fao’shi blew the pink powder into the stone-guard’s face, killing him within seconds. Fao’shi would have preferred a non-lethal approach, but his circumstances demanded drastic measures.

Fao’shi opened the door and dragged the stone-guard in. When he saw the two females, fast asleep on the prison bed, he shook them awake, careful not to wake the baby. The woman looked up at him and smiled.

He whispered to her, “I have found a boat for you both. We must leave now.”

“Will you not come with us?” The woman replied.

Fao’shi shook his head and began leading the mother and daughter away. They managed to pass the central chamber safely, all of the exalted looked down at them from their perches, silent and mindless. They were leaving via the back way, through the kitchens. There they were confronted by a cleaning woman and a cook who were previously engaged in some type of amorous activity. Fao’shi reached for his pouch, but the woman restrained him; she had seen the face of the stone-guard and understood Fao’shi’s intention.

“Leave them. Do they look like they are going to alert anyone?” Fao’shi stared at the couple and put his index finger to his lips. With that, he ran on into the rain and the dark, the females in tow.

Fao’shi’s exit plan was simple. All they had to do was slide down the steep – but not sheer – stone barrier and run into the city. Due to the darkness and weather, however, they could not clearly see the bottom of the wall, only the dim lights of the city through the fog and rain. The baby had begun to cry; the woman could not cover her completely from the rain.

Fao’shi conferred with the woman, who passed him the baby. “I will go first, then you follow. Do not worry, I will catch you.” Fao’shi said. The woman nodded and touched the baby calmingly. Fao’shi hugged the baby tight to his chest and began to slide down the wall on his back. The ride was perilous and long, but Fao’shi managed to make it to the bottom safely. He found himself standing behind a dingy bathhouse. There was no one else around except him and the bawling baby, who he attempted vainly to soothe.

He waited and waited. He stood there in the wetness and darkness for a long time. Long enough for the baby to fall asleep. Had the woman been caught? Had she abandoned him and her child? Or had she perhaps fallen wrong and was lying, broken, out of sight? Fao’shi could not both know and live, so he left.

He passed through the streets, careful not to draw attention to himself, which was not hard to do amongst the crowd. After a time, he reached his destination, a small fishing dock with a crew packing up to depart for the west. Out of sight and under the shelter of a stray tarp, he prepared his final step.

He took off his robe, which was soaking wet, and wrapped the baby. He retrieved his pouch and emptied the contents onto the ground. Most of it was damp powder, but deeper inside – and still dry – was a piece of parchment. The parchment read:

DO NOT BREATH IN DUST COVERING LETTER, IS POISON

Please take care of this child. I am sorry for the burden I have placed on you strangers, but I have no choice. It was either this or a life of certain misery for her. My name is Fao’shi. I tell you my name if you or the child ever wish to try and find me. I can give you no more information, for both your safety and mine. I hope you understand. Surely you can see my desperation in the fact that I have relied on a bunch of fishermen being both literate and kind-hearted. Apologies, I am tired and on edge. I digress, you should know this above everything else. Her name is Miru.

May Batar forgive me.

Fao’shi placed the letter on the bundled child. When the sailors were distracted, he snuck up to one of the small fishing vessels and tucked her under a pile of rope. When the sailors departed, he watched the boat leave from the dock.