"When lightning strikes, thunder follows."

 

 

Amari awoke before dawn. But his early rise was not what caught Princess Xinyi by surprise. Upon entering the room, she froze. Her eyes traced the comb's movement down past his shoulders. His voice was direct and clear, void of an uncertain morning rasp.

Amari tilted his head. The comb in his hand was thin and wooden, solid but not infallible against a careless hand. Princess Xinyi set the tray down in her hands on the tableside. She pulled out a plate of steaming soups and breads. The folded Beijian robes were handed off to Amari personally.

"Eat breakfast, then try on the robes. If they don't fit, I'll retrieve another size. Then we leave."

Amari set the robes on the bed, rubbing their thin, satin sleeves. They were pale off-white, with turquoise streams running up the bottom of the fabric.

"You're staring at my hair again," he said.

"In Beijie, it is rare to see men with hair unbraided past ear length."

"It's a common style outside of here. Do you find something wrong with it...or rather, does it make me any less of a man?"

Princess Xinyi didn't respond. Not as Amari finished his food, which was fresh and fulfilling, nor after he changed into well-fit robes. As if her voice was stolen from her, the princess didn't answer any further probing. She only guided Amari through the open courtyards, hands behind the cinched waist of her draping turquoise dress. As Amari walked, he glanced down with a suspicious stare, pinching at the clothes wrapped around his waist.

Amari stepped up into the transparent-roofed carriage. With a lurch, it took them further north. The sky was painted royal blue with the sun beating down in heavy waves. Past Princess Xinyi, who sat as proper and still as a figurine, were paddies peppering the manor ground that gave way to endless yellowing crops. Farmhands bowed their gloved hands in quick succession to the carriages.

They passed several other carriages filled with important people of the court, including King Qianlong, who urged the coachman to stop farther ahead. The dead crops crunched brittle as Amari stepped down, surveying the plot of death surrounding him. Wilting stalks peeled out like a cascade—dying one by one as the last drops of moisture were pulled away from their veins. Amari slowly spun around. The uncertain specks of the kingdom surrounded him. Many were perhaps households, unsure of when their next meal might be.

The clopping of the horses against the twig-cracking floor settled like the dusty topsoil. Eventually, silence arose. Amari looked up to the blue sky curving down around him, before closing his eyes.

Darkness cloaked the fields. Amari wrapped himself in a curtain of blackened night. With every, slowing breath, water trickled in. It dripped, diverging past Amari's nape, before rushing out under his feet with pulsating lines. Wavy curls twisted as far as the darkness fell.

"Amari," a voice said in his mind, distinctly smoky and coarse from waking up. "It's a rarity to feel your presence so soon after earlier."

The faint sensation of soft fur brushed past his legs—distinct from the coiling scales of a dragon.

"Stop," he scolded, "Let me focus."

"That's all you ever say," he complained. Not any tone in his voice indicated his annoyance, however, as if beckoning for Amari to stop and retort.

Amari ignored Leishan and began to sift through the twisting rivers. He peered close at the ground, then at the sky where a string of water flowed past his head. His eyes narrowed, searching past the rivers of rocky currents and wild sprays, until finally, a gurgle pulled at his mind.

The tiny slivering stream trickled indistinctly beneath the roaring rapids that jerked in crashing turns. Before Amari lifted his arm, a sudden thing jammed itself between his legs and bulged out through the robes. A fox cub with rounded baby fur at its cheeks rubbed up against Amari's ankles and joyfully whined.

Even a mischievous, sandpapery tongue licked at the chitin formations on his legs.

"Leishan!" Amari called harshly, picking up the fox by the scruff with a rough hold. The back legs dangled as its amber eyes peered wide, shocked by Amari's outburst.

"I cannot control the manifestation of my power—you know that. Only the kingdom's idea of me does."

"But it's yours," Amari said curtly. "It is your responsibility. This kingdom—it is so dry—as if you never conceived the thought of prioritizing their prosperity."

The fox cried pitifully. Its noises were sharp and piercing by the second, causing Amari's harsh expression to soften down as he cradled the cub in his arms. With a hand, he ran through the cotton-fluff fur, scratching lightly beneath the fox's chin. The fox chirruped happily. Its puffball tail thumped against Amari's elbow.

"You are the only one left who can call upon it, like how I am the only one left to contain this power. There is only so much I can do for a stubborn man who won't accept my help. You would have arrived much sooner, otherwise."

The fox chirped endlessly in his arms. Thick paw pads clamped onto his wrist, pinching Amari's hand clumsily to the fox's thick neck coat. Fluff sprouted everywhere, too large for its face or ears. Short fur was ruffled at the wet snout. Big, watery eyes blinked at him.

The crease in Amari's brows softened, "I... don't need your help. Leishan, we... are nothing in this lifetime. Do not mistake what was in our past for our present. You owe me nothing."

He rubbed a side of the fox's muzzle. Amari pinched and kneaded it between his hands, then carefully dropped the cub at his feet.

"Please. Cooperate with me, just for today—to assist Beijie. Don't obstruct me."

"Then let me meet you in Beijie."

Amari's hand froze atop the fox. His heart rattled noisily in his sealed-off chest.

"Give us a chance to meet," Leishan repeated, "and I'll assist you."

Amari stared down at the thumping fox tail darting in and out his legs, then at the dizzying streams of the world's water fractured like mismatched spider webs. There was no way he'd be able to channel rainfall for a long period without Leishan. He hated to admit that, without Leishan's endlessly careful control, the rain he called for the last few years would never have been so orderly... especially considering Amari's tumultuous control.

"I am currently at King Qianlong's manor as a guest. I'll be here for an indeterminable amount of time—but... I'll tell you if I leave before I meet you."

"Good. Then now, we can begin."

Amari pressed his lips together and pushed down the uncomfortably quick pace of his heartbeat. The fox darted away, running about a few paces away from Amari, before lying on its paws, its round fuzzy head sticking out to watch. Amari scoffed. The fox was obedient for an 'uncontrollable power'.

The thin stream gleamed like a silvery strand of foil twisting high in the air. The rushing currents shadowed Amari's figure and shook his steady posture. His arm stretched diagonally outward. Amari uncurled his fist as if attempting to hold the sun.

With a careful scoop, his fingers dipped into the stream, so slow and careful it was as if the water was fractured glass about to crumble to shards.

Amari stood frozen in place for so long that the surrounding ministers standing outside their respective carriages began to doubt the legitimacy of Amari's power. King Qianlong's hands were clasped tight, watching. Amari began to move, silencing the crowd. He reached out his arm, slow and creaking like a rusted hinge, to the sky. His figure was small, surrounded by the vast plains of paddies and fields—yet Princess Xinyi could not look away from the long hair few men held, nor the tightened robes that few men wore.

With Amari's eyes closed, and his chin angled to the sky—Princess Xinyi suddenly understood what the title of Caller meant. It was as if... he did not belong to this world. Without a power, not meant to be controlled by anyone else—the only one alive who can commune with the land's power. He seemed to even be more than a messenger, or harnesser of power.

Amari looked as if he were a god himself.

Clouds clustered together in the sky. They mixed and spun from pale to deep grey. Whispers collected around Princess Xinyi's ears. She held out a hand. Her fingers curled inward at the almost electric drop of cool water.

By now, Amari would pull away, allowing the water to naturally retreat after a few hours of rain. But a rare rainfall would not resolve an ongoing drought. It had to be prolonged—extensive over the next few months.

Rain drenched his robes down to his bone marrow. Amari's hair pasted against his chin as sweat mixed with raindrops. His breaths grew shallow as his body began to cry out in pain, desperately urging Amari to let go—to blink and fall away from this world of concentration. His fingers, although he tried to stop them, tremored.

Water dripped down his elbows, as he grasped his wrist tight and shut his eyes.

"Leishan, help me," he whispered.

A faint presence embraced him—dry warmth brushed against his back. Amari's shoulders crawled with tingles, rendering him numb and uncomfortably stiff. A rough palm traced up his arm, then covered the back of Amari's hand. Fingers folded into the grooves of his own.

The biting numbness in Amari's hand eased with the flowing water. He couldn't help but lean back in brief respite, before catching himself.

Thick, purpling grey clouds inked the sky. What was a soft drizzle swirled into a thick, pouring waterfall. White streaked past, cracking the sky in half with a burst of light. Not long after, the sky shook with a deep bellow.

Amari had no conception of the storming swirling, despite being at the center–for the phantom of hair brushing against his cheek and a steady hold enveloping his waist overrode his senses.

"When lightning strikes, thunder follows. When you call for me Amari, I will always respond."

Lightning cut through his dark consciousness. Rain crashed over Leishan's last word before his presence evaporated amidst the pelting waters. A final, pitiful whine scratched at Amari's heart. The soaked fox rubbed against Amari's side reluctantly, before disappearing.

Amari tilted his head upwards, letting the water stream down his face with a deep inhale. His shoulders sagged with the weight of his waterlogged sleeves. The low tremor of Leishan's voice reverberated more deeply than the rumbling growls of the clouds.

Why did Leishan treat him so, despite never meeting him?

Didn't he know—the feelings he attempted to push onto Amari were not out of truth? Not of genuine affection for him? There was no way he truly wanted Amari.

He wanted what Amari once was.

Amari remembered vaguely of their lives together in the past. Of blurred white foxes and many different faces—all who seemed to look at him with the same, limpid gaze. But the emotion... the connection to these people was like a void–a gap in his memory.

Except for a burning scorn–this sort of perceived hatred that seared itself into Amari's nerves.

Leishan didn't know what had brought them to this point. He only knew of the times they were together. He only knew the endless azure sky, while Amari was aware of the brewing storm beneath. And Amari understood... it would be better to keep his distance than let Leishan feel betrayed by their past lives built off a façade.

A chattering noise broke off Amari's train of thought. His teeth were chattering, he realized. Amari hugged his arms close to his body, and walked toward the carriages in the distance, which came rolling forward almost immediately on sight of his movements.

Voices stacked atop each other like thin, veiled layers. Amari could only nod as King Qianlong held his hands in thanks, his lips moving without words to follow. Amari could barely hear–the thunder had rung loud in his Only the rain followed.

A warm towel brought a faint relief to Amari, as he sat down within the carriage and carefully bundled it around himself. The soft bristles soaked up the rolling drops freezing his skin, but still, the wet clothes pressed sharply like ice refusing to melt. A pot of tea steamed up from the grooved table embedded into the carriage.

"Thank you," Amari said, finally looking up to Princess Xinyi, who retrieved another set of towels from beneath the seat. The princess paused. She met his gaze evenly.

Her lips curled into an honest smile, and her blank expression broke.

"Why are you thanking me? You are the one who saved my people today. If anything, I should be thanking you—although, thanks here are shallow. Amari, you have my favor."

Amari simply nodded, unsure of how to respond.

"You're treating me... more kindly."

"I wanted to answer your question from earlier," Xinyi said, ignoring Amari's observation. "And I think no, you are not... any less of a man. Especially after your ceremony."

"I'm...not interested in you in that sort of way," Amari bluntly said.

"And neither am I."

Amari tilted his head up, watching the rain patter on the glass above, before beading downward and out of sight. Lightning occasionally cracked the inky clouds. Princess Xinyi, under the assumption Amari had no other words to say, brought a teacup to her lips.

"So," Amari said casually, "why did you force me to wear women's robes for this?"

Princess Xinyi's eyes widened. She turned to the side, coughing on the tea and barely managing to stop it from spraying onto Amari.

"It's no matter–I was just curious. They are comfortable... and remind me of what I used to wear as a child. A sense of familiarity, so to speak. Men's clothes here are different from Nanjie's."

"Good. That was... the intention," Princess Xinyi said between lingering coughs.

Their conversation died down. But, Amari thought there was much more comfortable silence within the carriage. His eyelids grew heavy from the trickling patter of the rain against the roof. Soon enough, the soft, bumpy rumble of the wheels below lulled him to sleep.