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General Shao walked around the dungeons, looking for any survivors that may have been imprisoned by the war. The corridors smelled faintly of damp earth and the distant tang of blood. His boots echoed off the cold stone walls, the sound bouncing through the emptiness like a ghostly chant. Each step he took was deliberate, his eyes scanning the floor for any signs of recent activity. He knew the prison had been used as a makeshift morgue during the battle, and the thought of finding someone still alive down here was slim.
Turning a corner, General Shao's heart skipped a beat as he caught a flicker of movement in the dim light. He raised his torch, casting shadows that danced and grew as he approached the cell. Inside, the sight of a man’s corpse, leaning against the wall, made him pause. He stepped closer, noticing the ragged clothes and the bruises that painted the man’s body. The poor soul had suffered immensely before his death.
As he surveyed the cell, he heard footsteps coming from behind him and immediately drew his axe. A figure with black hair and blue robes draped over armor tilted their head. Shao realized his mistake and lowered his weapon. “Your Majesty.” He greeted softly.
Emperor Jerrod, stepped into the cell, his eyes reflecting the flickering torchlight. "This was a grim place," he murmured, his gaze lingering on the lifeless body.
"Indeed," General Shao replied, the gravity of the situation weighing on his voice. "But the war is over, let’s get this over with.”
Jerrod nodded solemnly. “You checked the other cells?”
“All of them, Your Majesty. No survivors. The enemy was thorough in their executions,” General Shao responded, his voice tight with anger.
Jerrod's eyes narrowed, and his jaw clenched at the grim news. He stepped closer to the body, studying it with a mix of sadness and determination. His hand reached out to touch the cold, still flesh, and he whispered a prayer for the deceased's soul. He went to stand but the faint sound of what sounded like a whimper made him pause. His gaze landed on the blanket in the corner of the cell, and he pulled it back with surprising gentleness to reveal a small infant, no more than a few weeks old. It was nestled in the blood-stained blanket, its eyes wide with fear and confusion.
General Shao's eyes widened in shock. He had missed the child in his initial search, but now it was clear as day, shivering in the cold and clutching the fabric of the blanket. The Emperor's hand trembled as he picked up the child, cradling it against his chest. "How could they?" he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.
The infant, seemingly oblivious to the gravity of the situation, began to cry out in hunger and fear. Jerrod shushed it gently, his own eyes welling up with tears as his parental instincts kicked in. "We'll find you a safe place, little one," he whispered, rocking the baby slightly. The sound of the crying echoed through the dungeon, a stark contrast to the heavy silence that had filled it moments before.
General Shao took a step closer, his own emotions stirring. "What do we do with the child, Your Majesty?"
Emperor Jerrod looked up from the baby, his eyes steely with resolve. "We take it with us. We cannot leave it here." He attempted to hand the infant to Shao, but the general stepped back. “I’m not good with children.”
The emperor nodded, understanding. "Find a wet nurse, someone who can care for it. We’ll bring it to the palace. It’s the least we can do."
General Shao nodded, his own thoughts racing. They made their way out the dungeons, back outside with their soldiers. The baby continued to cry, a sound that pierced Shao’s ears. He eyed the infant. “It sounds like it’s it pain.”
Emperor Jerrod looked down, his eyes never leaving the child’s tiny, scrunched face. “He.” He corrected. “He’s a boy.”
“A survivor of the battle then,” General Shao said, his voice gruff but filled with a hint of curiosity.
The emperor nodded, stroking the child’s cheek with his thumb. “…he’s beautiful, I’ve always wanted a son,” he muttered.
The general looked at his ruler with surprise. He knew the emperor loved his daughters more than anything, but the yearning in his voice was palpable. It was clear that finding the baby had stirred something deep within him. "Your daughters will love a new sibling," Shao said, trying to keep his tone light.
Jerrod's eyes met his general's. “Sindel can barely handle twins, she’ll have my head if I showed up with a third.” He joked, his voice a little too forced.
General Shao knew better than to push the subject, so he nodded and turned his attention back to the soldiers outside. He barked orders, arranging for their travel back to Sun Do. The soldiers, though exhausted from the war, moved swiftly and efficiently.
The baby resumed its crying and began to squirm in the emperor's arms, reaching out with tiny fingers that curled around the fabric of his robes. Jerrod looked down, his eyes softening as he stroked the child's head. "He must be starving…”
Shao grunted in response, he wasn’t good kids, especially babies. As a child himself, he had been a soldier since the day he could hold a sword, and the only comfort he knew was the warmth of metal and the camaraderie of his fellow warriors. He never even wanted kids of his own, fearing they would be weak and unable to survive in the harsh world he knew.
The journey back to the palace was a blur of activity. The emperor’s guard had set up a makeshift carriage, and the baby boy was placed within it, still crying. The emperor’s eyes never left him, even as he sat outside, discussing the state of the city with his advisors, the baby’s cries grew more insistent.
Shao huffed. “The constant crying is unsettling.” He remarked.
The Emperor looked at him sharply. “It’s the sound of life, General. We should be grateful for it.”
“It’s the sound of him begging for his mother’s touch.” The words slipped out before Shao could stop them. Emperor Jerrod’s eyes shot to him, a flash of pain crossing his face. Shao quickly apologized, “I didn’t mean—“
“If him crying for comfort bothers you so much, you hold him.” He ordered.
Shao leaned back. “I told you I’m not good with-“
“That was an order, not a suggestion. “Jerrod's voice was firm, and Shao knew better than to argue. He took the baby into his arms, feeling the tiny body quiver against his broad chest. The crying didn’t subside, but the emperor’s gaze remained steady on him.
Shao’s arms were off balance as he took the baby, unsure of how to hold such a delicate creature. Jerrod raised an eyebrow. “Support his head, General.”
With a sigh, Shao adjusted his grip and grimaced as he awkwardly held the squirming infant. “He’s just staring at me.” He said, watching the way the baby’s unique white eyes searched his face.
“He’s just getting to know you, that’s all,” Jerrod replied, a sad smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
The baby’s cries grew louder, and his tiny fists waved in the air, demanding attention. The general felt utterly out of his depth. He tried bouncing the child slightly, mimicking what he had seen the emperor do earlier, and to his surprise, the crying subsided into snuffles and whimpers.
Jerrod’s expression softened. “See, you’re a natural.”
Shao grunted, not quite believing the words. The baby watched him, and for a moment, the child’s cries ceased, looking at him with a curiosity that was almost amusing. “What will you name him?” Shao asked, his voice gruffer than he intended.
Jerrod looked thoughtful. “We’ll think on it. For now, let’s get him back to palace.” He said as he leaned back in his seat, relaxing to the sound of hoofs pulling the carriage.
The ride was long and bumpy, but the baby grew quiet in Shao’s arms, eventually falling asleep to the gentle sway of the carriage. The general found himself watching the rise and fall of the tiny chest, feeling an unwanted feeling in his chest.
As they approached the city gates of Sun Do, the baby began to stir, and the cries grew louder again. Shao’s eyes darted around, looking for a way to calm him. Jerrod took back the child, his movements more assured. “We’re almost there,” he murmured, bouncing him gently. The baby’s cries grew softer.
The city gates opened for the military procession, revealing the grandeur of the palace in the distance. The sight of it filled the weary soldiers with a mix of relief and pride. The emperor looked at his city with a heavy heart, knowing the hardships that awaited them all in the aftermath of the war.
As they approached the palace, the baby's cries grew more desperate, echoing through the empty streets. The people of Sun Do had gathered to greet their victorious ruler, their faces a tapestry of hope and sorrow. The sight of the emperor with a baby in his arms was unexpected, and whispers began to spread through the crowd.
The emperor’s carriage pulled into the courtyard, and the baby’s cries grew even louder, piercing the silence. The doors to the palace swung open, and a flurry of servants rushed out to greet them. General Shao couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease as he looked at the faces of the people they passed. They were expecting a warrior’s return, not a father with a foundling.
As they entered the palace, the grand hallways seemed to swallow the sound of the baby’s cries, turning them into a desperate echo that bounced off the gleaming marble floors. They made their way to the palace’s nursery, where the emperor's daughters were being sleeping in their luxurious cribs. The moment they stepped into the warm, dimly-lit room, the crying grew even more desperate. The twins, noticing the commotion, began to stir in their cribs, their eyes opening to the sight of their father holding the tiny stranger.
Jerrod set him down in an extra crib, his eyes never leaving the baby as he writhed and screamed, reaching out with tiny hands. “I’ll find someone to take care of him,” He said, before disappearing into the corridor.
Shao shifted his weight, feeling the unfamiliar weight of the baby’s gaze on him. The twins watched their father leave with sleepy curiosity before returning to their nap. The silence that followed was thick and uncomfortable.
The general cleared his throat. “I’ll check on the fortifications, Your—“
“Stay.” Jerrod ordered. “I need you to make sure he’s safe. Until I decide what to do with him, I want someone I trust near him at all times. Besides, your lack of experience with children might just make you the perfect guardian. Less likely to get attached, and more likely to keep a clear head.”
General Shao felt a knot form in his stomach. He wasn’t equipped to handle a baby, much less the emotional burden that came with one. But he knew better than to question the emperor’s orders. He nodded firmly and took a seat by the crib, his eyes never leaving the child as he squirmed and cried.
Shao crossed his arms as he watched the baby, feeling the weight of his new responsibility. The child's cries grew more frantic, and Shao's hand hovered over the crib, unsure of what to do. He eventually covered his ears, the sound grating on his nerves. It was clear that he was out of his depth.
He huffed as he stood, opening the cabinets. “You’re going to starve, aren’t you?” He muttered, finding some glasses of milk that were meant for the twins. He picked one up, unscrewing the cap and testing the temperature with his pinky. It was cold. He wrinkled his nose and hoped it was still good.
The baby’s cries grew more, and Shao’s hand hovered over the crib again, unsure of what to do. He knew nothing of babies, especially feeding them. He looked around the room for any signs of a bottle or something that could be used to feed the child.
He finally found a bottle on a shelf, dusty but seemingly untouched. He cleaned it with a cloth and filled it with the milk. The baby's cries grew more insistent, and Shao felt his own frustration rising.
Holding the bottle, he approached the crib and tentatively offered it to the child. The baby's eyes widened, and his tiny mouth opened in a silent plea. Shao sighed, his rough hands shaking slightly as he placed the bottle to the baby’s lips. The child latched on immediately, suckling greedily.
For a brief moment, the room was quiet except for the sound of the baby drinking. Shao felt a strange sense of accomplishment, watching the little one's desperation slowly fade into contentment.
But as the baby took in more milk, his eyes grew heavier and his cries grew weaker. Shao realized he didn't know how to burp the child. He looked around the room, his gaze landing on a plush chair in the corner. He sat down, the leather creaking under his weight, and carefully cradled the baby against his chest, patting his back with a firm but gentle hand.
After a moment, the baby burped, and the tension in the room seemed to ease. The infant’s eyes searched Shao’s before finally closing, the little body relaxing in his arms. The general felt a strange warmth spread through his chest, something he hadn’t felt in a long time. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.
The emperor returned with a woman in tow, and they paused, seeing Shao holding the sleeping baby. “You’ve got him to sleep?”
Shao nodded, looking up at Jerrod. “It was...easy,” he said, feeling a bit embarrassed at his newfound skill.
The woman stepped forward with a soft smile. She took the baby from the general's arms, her movements smooth and practiced. “I’ll get him changed.”
Jerrod nodded his thanks before turning to his general. “Looks like you are good with children.” He smiled.
“I wouldn’t say that, Your Majesty. I just know how to handle screaming soldiers, and it turns out babies aren’t that much different.” Shao said, a hint of humor in his voice.
Jerrod raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?” He asked. “Unfortunately, I don’t know anyone who wants a child at the moment, so…I figured I’d give him to you.”
Shao's eyes widened, his heart skipping a beat. “What? No, Your Majesty, I’m not—I can’t—“
Jerrod’s smile grew wider, seeing the shock on his general’s face. “Can’t what? You seemed to be doing just fine a moment ago.”
“But, Your Majesty, I’m a soldier, not a parent!” Shao protested, his voice rising slightly.
Jerrod chuckled. “Well, your father was also a soldier, and yet you turned out…well enough. Beside you’re the closest ally I have that I trust to raise him.”
Shao felt his face heat up. He had always known the emperor was fond of him, but this was uncharted territory. “I don’t know anything about children, Your Majesty,” he protested weakly.
Emperor Jerrod’s smile didn’t waver. “Neither did I until I had my daughters. I trust that you’ll figure it out, maybe even raise him as a solider himself.”
Shao’s head perked up. “A soldier?” He repeated, the idea planting a seed in his mind. He had never considered raising a child, but the thought of training a young warrior, shaping a life that could one day stand alongside him, resonated deep within his hardened heart. Now that, was something he could use to his advantage.
“I’ll need some supplies, Your Majesty,” He said, his voice a mix of skepticism and excitement. “Clothes, food, toys. I don’t know what babies do, other than cry and eat.”
Jerrod nodded, his eyes gleaming. “Of course, General. I’ll have everything sent to your quarters immediately. The palace has all the resources you’ll need.”
Shao narrowed his red eyes as the emperor left the room, his mind racing with a whirlwind of thoughts. A soldier. He could do that. He knew about discipline and strategy, about protecting what was his. The baby would be raided well with him, that much was clear. He just wasn’t sure about the whole 'nurturing' aspect of it.
A few hours passed after the baby being passed to the woman. Shao was called to the room she was cleaning him up at, the baby was crying in the woman’s arms. She looked tired, but she had a gentle smile on her face as she looked up at him. “It’s good to see you again, Shao.” She softly spoke as she put the infant on the floor, seeing if he could crawl.
The baby slowly pushed himself up, his tiny limbs trembling with effort. He cried as he crawled towards Shao, his hands reaching out like a miniature warrior seeking refuge. The general took a step back, unprepared for the sudden movement.
"He's trying to get to you to pick him up," the woman revealed.
Shao's eyes widened, and he felt a strange tug in his chest as he watched the baby crawl towards him. Despite his initial shock, he found himself bending down, his calloused hands scooping up the small, warm body. The baby's cries ceased the moment he was in Shao's arms, his tiny hands grabbing onto the general's armor as if it were a lifeline. The weight of the child was surprisingly comforting. "I suppose he has good taste in warriors, Amara.”
Amara chuckled softly, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "He needs a name, General."
Shao looked down at the baby, his expression thoughtful. "I'll think of something," he said gruffly. "But first, I need to get him to stop crying."
Amara tilted her head. “Rock him, it works with Zeffeero every time.” She suggested.
Shao rolled his eyes but did as instructed. He began to sway slightly, the baby’s cries gradually subsiding into a whine. He looked down to see the child’s eyes studying him, almost as if he knew something Shao didn’t. The general grunted, feeling silly. He’d fought in battles, seen men’s lives end, and here he was, rocking a baby to sleep. “This is only temporary, he’ll start raising hell again soon.”
Amara clicked her tongue. “I’ll lend you some of Zeffeero’s old stuff. He’s almost two now, you know.”
Shao rolled his eyes once more. “That child is merely a toddler and yet he’s already causing trouble. I can’t imagine what he’ll be like when he’s older,”
Amara gave him a mock pout. “My child is a sweetheart, General.” She chuckled. “Now, about the name—what are you thinking?”
Shao's eyes searched the room as he bounced the baby slightly. “I don’t know about names, I’ve never had to name anyone before,” he admitted, feeling the weight of the task. “…something unique I suppose.”
Amara nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. “How about…Reiko?” She suggested, her eyes shining with excitement. “It means 'lovely child' in the old tongue, and it suits him, don’t you think?”
Shao stared down at the baby, who had calmed considerably in his arms. The name rolled off his tongue, and for some reason, it felt right. “Reiko. Yes, that will do,” he said firmly.
Amara clapped her hands together. “Perfect,” She beamed. “Now, here’s that basket of Zeffeero’s old things. I’m sure you’ll find something suitable for him in there,” She said, placing a basket at Shao’s feet.
Shao set Reiko down on the floor again and began to dig through the basket, pulling out a tiny tunic, and a blanket. The baby watched him with wide eyes, his chubby hands grabbing at the fabric. “I suppose this will have to do,” Shao murmured, his voice gruff.
He was about to stand up when the baby's cries grew louder, and he turned to see Reiko holding onto the edge of a table, trying to pull himself up. The general’s eyes narrowed. “You can’t do that, you’ll hurt yourself.”
With surprising speed, he scooped up the child, who immediately stopped crying and snuggled against his chest. Shao couldn’t help but scoff. “You’re gonna need a lot of training, Reiko.”
Amara gathered the basket, her eyes warm with amusement. “He’s a fast learner, I can tell. They all are at this age.” She grabbed a pacifier. “Here.”
Shao took it, looking at it skeptically before popping it into Reiko’s mouth. The baby’s eyes searched his face, and Shao felt his heart do something strange as the child’s cries turned into contented suckling. He cleared his throat. “Well, that’s something new. I guess I’ll get used to it.”
Amara packed up the basket, giving Shao a knowing look. “You’ll be a great role model for him.”
Shao scoffed, trying to ignore the warmth in his chest. “I’m a soldier, not a nanny. I’ll train him to be strong, not to be a crybaby.”
Amara chuckled. “You’ll do just fine, General. Besides, you’ve already started. You should put him down for a nap.”
Shao grunted, looking at Reiko. The baby’s eyes were drooping, his little body growing heavy against his chest. With a sigh, he laid the child in the blanket, watching as his eyes slowly closed. The room was quiet again, save for the soft, even breaths of the sleeping baby.
He stepped back, feeling a strange sense of accomplishment. He had fed the baby, changed his clothes, and even gotten him to sleep without too much trouble. He wasn’t sure if that made him a suitable guardian, but it was a start. Now, the next step: teach him how to break an enemy’s spine.