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Hazy incandescence. A piercing ring in her ears. Mouth and throat parched. Vision swimming. Where was she? She was just bracing her arm towards—Her limbs would not respond, her eyes could not open. Panic started to overwhelm her. At least it would have. It should have. If not for the persistent stroking sensation, brushing of thumb pad to knuckle ridge across her left hand, mooring her in the storm. The miasma was slowly clearing—her mind sharpening. The ringing fading, shrill quietening to something more tolerable. Soreness from below building. Fingers finally able to grasp the hand that held hers.
“…”
A voice? Perhaps. Still distorted, yet a familiar tone. She realised a strange taste in her mouth, but with no saliva, too dry to swallow.
“Seem… …waking…”
Another voice, clearer this time, sharp yet comforting. The siren in her brain pulsed faster to a single dissonant note. A wave flooded her senses; lost once more to the raging vortex.
She felt a force pulling her free from the precipice of the torrent, desperately grasping at driftwood to keep her afloat from what would otherwise consume her. A tranquil hum gently soothed her senses—enchanting and ethereal—saving her from the alluring voice of the merrow below. She clutched onto her saviour, pleading they not let go. Pulling. Limb cooperating, she grasped out with her right to double her grip. Except, it did not listen. Searing lightning shot through her core like lightning as she attempted to twist. She did not have a chance to dwell as a voice finally reached her above the shrieking tones.
“Chuechu are you awake? Can you hear me?” the voice, at last comprehensible, of her husband, distressed. She attempted to respond, to comfort him, guilt needling her. But as she opened her mouth to speak, all she accomplished on her exhale was that of a groan as the cold air pricked her throat.
“Don’t push yourself,” a voice responded, “Your body has been through a lot, the morphine can only do so much.”
It was odd, the woman’s voice was clipped with intonation flat, yet a care fed through. There was familiarity, but her mind maintained a dense fog and a name remained out of reach.
“You’re just out of a long surgery it will take some time to come to, you received a healthy dose of ethylene.” the voice continued.
Surgery? So she was in hospital. A rhythmic pumping coupled in time with a band compressing on her upper arm, yet remained numb. Her veins pulsed beneath their captor before the tension let off with a hiss. Her forehead caressed by the back of a hand.
“Blood pressure and temperature are as expected, that’s good.” that same voice stated, earning an appreciative hum from her husband. His hands reverently cradled her left, as a faint force gripped her right.
Uncertain amount of time passed in the stillness before the voice once more spoke up. “Heart rate too. I will leave you in the care of Mr Ma as you wake up.” Chue heard footsteps scurry away.
Finally, she was able to crack one eye open with great effort, but the lights shone too bright to hold it there and she scrunched it back shut.
“The nurses told me you need to drink some water when you came to,” her husband quietly said, “I’ll help you, just raise your head a bit.”
Her abdomen pulsed with pain as her muscles tensed slightly. He braced her head gently, removing the need for her to do much of anything as she sipped the water, coating her throat with much needed moisture. The strange taste remained, uncleared, nausea bubbling slowly beneath at the addition. With the much needed hydration, she attempted to speak, this time her vocal cords cooperating, a “Hi” escaping her lips with an unrecognisable hoarseness. It was a start at least, she supposed. She let her head nuzzle into his hand to show her thanks instead, the pain lessening as she did.
Again, she attempted to lift her right arm to pat her husbands hand in thanks. Once more it confusingly was limp and numb. Baryou seemed to sense her straining her shoulder. Nervously, he spoke her unconscious fears.
“Chue… an attack left your body broken. Your abdomen bleeding, your arm fractured. The surgery lasted six hours. The doctors are content with the status of your internal injuries, but offered no guarantees you will get feeling back in your arm, they tried everything they could.” she gripped his hand tighter with her working left, “I believe Dr Kan said she would ensure you are seen by Dr Lu, one of her friends from her training. She is a leading rehabilitation consultant now, Dr Kan seemed confident all is not lost. You’ll see her immediately once we return to the Capital. She said you were lucky, you nearly lost it entirely.” rattling it all out before he could waver.
Chue felt stinging in the corner of her eyes. Tears had never flowed from her in front of another since her mother abandoned her. She had the ability to free her eyelids now, but kept them squeezed shut. She had no desire to see her husband look upon her in this state. She was meant to be strong, protect him. How was it luck, to be only slightly less useless than she could have been? The mistress of fate seemed cruel; afflicting her with mental anguish and soreness within alike, persistent and unrelenting.
Baryou sat on the bed behind her and gathered her towards him. The motion had caused another sharp pulse of agony as she grasped onto his robes, from her stomach and now her heart. Braced to his chest she could hear his heart thumping away, cocooning her from her dread. “I am so sorry Chue,” tears of his own fell like raindrops pitter-pattering upon her head, “so, so sorry.”
She let herself go for some time, disassociating herself from her invasive thoughts on her new reality and the questions she was now aware enough to ruminate. Allowing herself to be held. To be vulnerable. To be loved.
The fog was drifting steadily away, allowing her brain to slot the pieces together in the web of what had transpired. The memories of specific moments flowing back in fragments.
Door of safe house closing behind her and her charge. Clearing room after darkened room, then a form in the shadows. A glint of light of sharpened metal reflected feral eyes of a beastly man. It lunged at Maomao, hungry. Chue hadn’t had time to think, throwing her arm in its path in vain hope to bear the brunt of the assault. Colliding with her, pulling her Mauser with the other and discharging it above the figures right ear, then collapsing before her. The foe was defeated, her ward safe, and her job complete. Yet, as she stared at what should be her arm, what looked back at her was a mangled amalgamation of flesh and bone. Laceration gouging her—
The rest was hazy snapshots in time.
”…Shit, she’s losing a lot of blood…””…Ride faster!””…Chue please, we’re nearly there…”
She sat up panicked pain ripping through her, brain finally cognizant enough to recognise the voice and name from earlier. She stared at Baryou, eyes wild, “Is Maomao hurt? Where are we?”
“She is completely fine, we are in the west still, but we are safe. Lakan and Father’s men are both guarding us all.” Chue’s anxieties were not quenched fully by this, but were dimmed somewhat. Baryou explained further, “The crisis has been solved, currently the whole delegation is here, others had minor scrapes to be tended. We wait for you to be safe to travel, and we will leave immediately for the Capital. Yue waits for permission from Dr Kan.”
“As is natural of his illustrious moon-ness. I will need to thank him deeply for his benevolent kindness.” Chue grumbled.
“He’ll only want your thanks when you are fully healed. If even that, you know he feels about Dr Kan, he will more likely think he is in your debt instead. She told us what had happened.”
“I was only doing my job…” she sighed.
“That may be so, but you did save her from at least a grievous injury, at the expense of yourself…” Baryou seemed pained by this. Chue knew he didn’t particularly like her occupation, but that was the reason they were married after all, as cover, and to keep her close to the heart of the Dragon’s lair. It had come with some benefits, despite the arrangement, and initial hesitance, it turned out that he and she were moulded for one another, destined to be. His comforting shade to her vibrant light. His yin to her yang.
“Dr Kan insisted she lead your care when the carriage arrived, she would not let anybody refuse her. She rescinded to Dr Li who led the surgery though. Were you unconscious the entire time since the attack?”
“I remember only vague fragments… Is there any news on that?” She wanted to ensure nothing had been her fault.
“Father said the assailant seemed to have been afflicted with a strange drug, unnaturally strong yet acting only on impulse and base instinct. He suspects they could be a runaway from the Shi experiments. We fear they were positioned in the safe house knowingly, setup as an ambush by a conspirator, to strike at Dr Kan—or whoever else close to the Moon who was sent for protection—directly.”
She noticed Maomao leant against the frame, observing their conversation, with a small smile ghosting her features. Maomao looked exhausted, eyes devoid of their usual cerulean sparkle.
“Miss Maomao Miss Maomao stop standing in the doorway and come here, I need my beautiful doctor to check me over,” she chirped at her ward, hoping Maomao couldn’t read the spiralling distress that was lying beneath her hardened exterior. Her husband was still holding her lightly drawing characters on her back to soothe her. She was too distracted to feel what they were, but he often would go through work in his head in this way in quiet evenings. She knew there was no hiding herself from him at least. She feared she was fast adding person number two to that list as well.
Maomao sighed as she approached, “Miss Chue Miss Chue you do not have to pretend with me.”
“I suppose, Miss Chue does only show her true self with those who love her.” She allowed her mask to disintegrate, a grimace replacing it.
“I do not know what you are referring to.”
“I believe I recall correctly, even through my delirious state.”
Chue was vividly recalling a specific moment her brain had captured from the transport to the hospital, which she dramatically reenacted: “You have to live…I love you…”
“I said that to shut you up.” Maomao snapped back, a catlike glower adorning her face.
“I was talking? I recall no such thing,” she teased.
“Anyway, I need you to eat I have some rice crackers here, hopefully that is acceptable.”
“Oh ho ho! Is this from Miss Maomao’s own personal stash?”
“Yes…” Maomao responded as Chue began to wolf one down. She could see her husband was smiling at her antics from the corner of her eye, continuing to support her and caress her bad arm.
Mouth full, Chue replied, “Hehehe, Miss Maomao must really love Miss Chue if she is so willing to share!”
Maomao changed the subject not wishing to deign that with another response, instead to interrogate her health. Question after question, on pain, mobility, sense of feeling. Chue understood this as her attempt to assuage her own anxieties of the events that had occurred. To focus on what she knew. She hated the politics, how her position within society had caused others harm.
Mid bombardment of questions about pain and function from Maomao, Chue observed as Tianyu sauntered into the room, hair unkempt and scrubs frayed. He was of the strange sort who was obsessed with something at the expense of everything else. She supposed she should be thankful it was surgery and thus how her arm was still attached to her body at least, small mercy.
“Ah look who has woken up,” he interrupted Maomao’s interrogation with a leer. Seemed he was once again going to enjoy his favourite pastime. Chue rested her head back on Baryou’s chest, anticipating a wait.
“Tianyu I am questioning my patient to ascertain how successful the surgery was.”
“Hmm, shouldn’t I be doing that though? Remember Niang-Niang, you aren’t the expert here, why start without me! Who said she is yours anyway.” the man teased. Chue could see Maomao attempting to hide the scowl overtaking her features in response. Without giving her chance for a retort, Tianyu continued, “The patient being awake and aware now means you calculated the anaesthetic right in your panicked haze at least—impressive given it was not your familiar chloroform.”
Now he looked to her, “Did you know that Niang-Niang had already completed some rudimentary fixes before you arrived? To be fair to her I wouldn’t give it an F and that’s pretty good under the circumstances.”
“Are you quite done?” Maomao retorted angrily. Chue too gave him a glare. She normally rather enjoyed needling Maomao with him but currently found herself losing patience with his antics. The hospital’s sterility was fast causing her discomfort and unease. The warm plane of her husbands chest unable to fully combat it, no matter how much she sheltered in his robes.
The two doctors settled into a rhythm of care, allowing Chue’s mind to unravel—no longer moored by distractions. She wished to be home from this accursed city in the west, the object of so many of her misfortunes. She had accompanied the delegation to assist in ensuring stability of the region, her master requiring his tool to assist in his machinations. Echoes of the Shi plot from the north rang out in the west, foreboding the potential fall of another clan in the tumultuous time which questioned the Mandate. The rise of the You had been too fast, reaching for the sun, unaware of the foundation crumbling beneath their feet. Too focused on power, too hungry. The greedy drakes had gleefully accepted the imperial visitation of the prince. The committee handpicked for subterfuge, espionage. To uncover the truth. Corruption, illicit mining through slavery and trafficking, treason through attempts to drag the Empire to war. The Mi had unearthed the malady spreading like a disease. The Emperor of the Sun had tasked The Prince of the Moon to torch the evil that had taken root with the full might of their draconic power, restoring the light of the heavens to the seat of power in the west.
Chue’s task had been to assist. Collating evidence of the rot. Ascertaining the mood among the populace. However, as the day of execution drew near, her task had changed. The strategists daughter, and secret mistress of the prince, had been entrusted to Chue’s care. She was to ensure her safety away from the nexus of chaos as the plot was enacted. She had found great kinship in the girl among those that had travelled west. The trust placed in her by the powers above she intended to honour. Chue had failed at this task, in spite of insistence from Maomao to contrary, she understood with clarity that she had. No longer could she remain a useful pawn of the empire, with her arm in such dysfunction. The concern she had been receiving from those above her was strange. Undeserved. Could they not see she was a piece removed from the board? This city of the west truly was her doom. She only ever suffered here. Those comforting her here remained in the dark to her history in this place, unaware of her plight. Mind still reeling, the fatigue slowly won out, pulling her back into the depths of sleep, safe within her husband’s hold.
A few days later, as the delegation prepared to leave, she was free. Free of the tobacco-stained white walls of the prison at least. She was not, however, free of the discomfort that now accompanied her. The aches within constant, ever punishing. A persistent, harrowing reminder of her inadequacy. To most others she seemed healed and hardy again, the silly jokester returned. However, she understood her new reality. The silent companion that now bore down on her frame and her mind. Sapping her essence away drip after drip. Time would likely hold no reprieve for her, the parasite feeding from her till she lay in her grave. She would look back on this fateful day, when the memories of being whole had long faded, with impassiveness, no longer capable of comprehending life before the curse, this punishing malady her new normal. Her hale and hearty alternate reality a spectre, haunting her dreams.
Chue was glad to be heading back to the Capital. She’d be happy to never see this city again. The delegation around her were in celebration, the Prince and his Cat safe and happy. The Moon had outshone the craven drake, now deposed, but a new foe rose, an apparition from beyond. Unknown. A challenge to the throne for tomorrow. She boarded the conqueror of the skies with the help of her husband, which shook as it rumbled down the runway and took flight to return the sparrow to her nest, and the future, changed, that awaited.