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The Soothsayer’s ears twitched. She raised her head up, a brief smile flashing across her face, and listened to Shen’s indecipherable grunts as he slept. The peacock tossed and turned as he kicked his feet. His tail feathers flared, the red highlights like lanterns in the darkness. Shen flopped over onto his stomach, and slowly his tail feathers rested on his back like a blanket. The Soothsayer lit her lamp and took a quick glance. For a brief moment, he looked peaceful. He almost looked happy. But then his eyes snapped open and he awoke with a scream. Shen took heaving breaths, one wing placed over his chest, and met eyes with the Soothsayer. His usual rageful expression returned.
“Don’t do that!” he hissed. “I deal with you all day! Is it so much to ask that I can at least sleep without you breathing down my neck!?”
“You looked like you old self,” the Soothsayer said. “That’s all.”
Shen shook his head. “You’re spouting nonsense. Have you finally gone senile?”
“Just remembering better times.”
“Pfft.” Shen sat up, staring at nothing in particular. “Waxing nostalgic. What a meaningless hobby. Shouldn’t you be asleep?”
“You were keeping me up.”
“I was not!”
“You were crying, Shen,” murmured the Soothsayer. Shen stared daggers into her. She truly looked crestfallen. “I began drifting off when you stopped, but then you started kicking and sleeptalking.”
The peacock scoffed, embarrassment burning his cheeks. “Bah! I absolutely do not cry in my sleep. I don’t cry at all. Now go away and let me rest.” He scooted away when the Soothsayer came closer. “Are you deaf? Leave me alone!”
“I’ve spent so many years looking after you, Shen,” she said. “Ever since you were this big.” She hovered her hand about four inches off of the floor. Shen squinted, obviously skeptical. “Since you were in an egg. It’s second nature to ensure you’re alright.”
“I’m not sure if you noticed, but I’m an adult now.”
“But you’re not okay, are you?”
Silence. The peacock hung his head. No, he wasn’t. How many years had it been since he slept through the night? Even as a child, he woke frequently with coughing fits and fevers. He’d never been granted the privilege of a peaceful night’s rest… until the day he came crying to the Soothsayer, frustrated from exhaustion. She’d done her best to calm little Shen down, but nothing quieted him. So she plopped him in her lap, where he quickly drifted off to sleep. It seemed like a million years had passed since that sweeter simpler time, but the memory remained fresh and vivid. Shen felt his throat tighten. How oddly wonderful that such a mundane event as falling asleep held such a large place in his heart. He cracked a twisted smile. The thought of him now trying to curl up in the old goat’s lap was so pathetic. If he wasn’t aching for any kind of affection, it would’ve been funny.
“Do you remember that day, Shen?” the Soothsayer asked.
“What day?” he lied.
“Ahh, it was long ago when you were little enough to fit in my lap. Such a cute little bird you were! Your mother brought you to me because she was losing her mind over you crying incessantly!”
Shen’s throat tightened further.
“When I put you in my lap, you curled up right away. You looked like a little white ball. I can still remember how my legs ached from sitting on them. I stayed there for hours. I couldn’t bear to wake you up after you’d gotten so little rest. I think you’d had another spell of sickness.”
Shen felt like he couldn’t breathe.
“And then I spotted an attendant, and I whispered to him as loudly as I could: ‘Hey! Get the young Lord’s mother and father!’ And he scurried off. He probably assumed something was terribly wrong. Then your parents came running, and I said: ‘Look at Shen!’ They thought it was the cutest thing. Your father got a great laugh out of it.”
Shen blinked in surprise. He caressed his cheek with his wing and felt something damp. Tears? When had he begun crying? The Lord whimpered quietly. He remembered. He’d woken up to his parents crowding around him. His mother’s eyes, full of love and amusement. His father’s hearty laugh. The Soothsayer’s warmth. He couldn’t take it.
“Shut up,” he choked out. He drew in heaving breaths, and his tears splashed against the ground. Shen hugged himself and cried. That was before he’d learned of his imminent fate, before he’d panicked and stained the land with blood. Before the guilt had eaten away at his psyche. Before the nightmares of the panda folk screaming and begging for their lives.
“Oh, Shen,” the Soothsayer cried. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to--”
“Just stop talking,” he sobbed. He hung his head. His shoulders shook. The peacock’s tail feathers blossomed from him, his only pitiful defense against his twisted mind. The Soothsayer placed a hand on his back. He didn’t fight it, nor did he fight her gently guiding him downward until his head rested on her lap like a pillow. He cried harder.
“I’m sorry, Shen,” she whispered with tears in her eyes.
“Why?” he said. “Why do you continue to stay by someone like me? You can see anything and everything. How can you not see me for the monster I am?”
“I do see you for who you are,” she murmured. “You are not good, Shen. Your actions were irredeemable. But I know you are not evil. Just as tremendous cruelty cannot sully a good person’s spirit, an evil one cannot break from the reflection on their choices. You’re not a monster. You’re just broken.”
In her lap, Shen nodded miserably. She was absolutely right like always. He was broken beyond repair. Not enough to crumble, but too much to justify living in peace. He’d made his bed, and he would lie in it until his final breath. Shen sighed, his body shaking from exhaustion. Although he deserved it, he dreaded falling asleep again. But his eyelids felt too heavy, and the nightmares were inevitable. But Shen felt an odd sense of serenity. Perhaps he was too tired to feel terrified. Or maybe it was the Soothsayer’s presence that gave him comfort.
“I don’t want to make your legs ache,” he whispered.
“Don’t fret about me. You’ve done enough worrying for the both of us and then some.” The Soothsayer caressed his cheek, and Shen closed his eyes. “Sweet dreams, Shen.”
“I don’t deserve you,” he mumbled. And then sleep claimed him, and his crying stopped.