The morning came far too quickly for his liking. He wasn't sure exactly what time they had gone to sleep, but he had awoken several times throughout the night, nervous about his rapidly improved skill. He also wasn't sure how he was going to tell his master, but he refused to keep it secret any longer.

"Good morning, Zen," came Qi's voice from close by.

Blinking open his heavy eyelids, he looked up, only to see his master kneeling before him with a gentle smile on his face. Zen quickly pushed himself up, but before he could rise to his feet and help his master back up, Qi reached forward and gently placed a warm hand against his forehead while the other sought out the pulse in his left wrist.

"You look like you didn't sleep too well. I admit that I'm not comfortable enough here to rest well, either, but we must keep our energy up in order to keep our wits about us," he said as he removed both of his hands, then stood before offering Zen a hand.

Zen gratefully took the proffered hand, not trusting his tired body quite enough to feel comfortable rising on his own just yet.

Why do I feel so exhausted? I am used to not sleeping, sometimes for days on end.

"Come, sit. I cut up some of the apples and pears that we were given. Have something to eat, please," Qi said, guiding Zen over to the table and helping him sit. His master then sat a beautiful little saucer plate in front of him and added several pieces of the fruit, as well as a tiny spoonful of honey from a small jar that had been sitting in the middle of the table.

Zen stared at the food, but his stomach didn't feel like it could manage it. His hesitance drew Qi around the table to sit beside him. He checked his temperature again, as well as his pulse, but when nothing seemed amiss, he frowned and looked at the food, then back at Zen.

"I know that you rarely have an appetite, but are you sure you can't manage a few bites?"

He really wasn't sure if he could. Food had never sat well with him, and as he'd grown, it had gotten worse and worse. Sometimes he would get away with not eating for a few days at a time before his master finally sat him down and made his servants cook everything and anything until he relented and filled his stomach.

Of course, he did get hungry, just like anyone else, but the idea of actually eating something just wasn't appetizing.

I don't want to worry him, though.

Reluctantly, Zen reached forward and took the smallest slice of pear, then dipped it into the little circle of honey at the top of the plate. He took his time nibbling at it, and with his free hand, he tapped a finger against the table.

His master immediately turned his attention to that spot, so Zen began writing out what he needed to tell him. It didn't take long for his words to be understood, and unsurprisingly, Qi's mood soured quickly. He immediately checked the seal he had put in Zen's mouth, but seeing that it was perfectly intact, he got up and began gently but quickly brushing the hair where the flower had been to the side.

"There is nothing..." he eventually said as he straightened Zen's hair back into place, then began absentmindedly brushing it in order to eventually pull back the higher portion into a long ponytail.

Zen understood his frustration. He shouldn't have been able to do what he had, and the only thing that had changed with him between the time he had practiced using his master's spiritual device and when his abilities suddenly became amplified was prince Yuen's tampering with the flower in order to infuse him with dark energy.

He wanted to confront the prince and ask him what he had truly done, and why.

"I feel that we should go speak with the prince... but I also feel as if I can't make myself do so. I don't want you to get hurt again. We should just leave before anything else untoward happens."

Of course, that was unlikely to be possible. They hadn't exactly been invited to come in the first place. They had been threatened. Their own kingdom was a little anthill compared to the mountain that was Han, and if they so dared to try and escape before the emperor released them... it would not end well.

The only reason their kingdom had held up for so many years was because of its incredible sect leaders. Now, however, all five of them were old and weathered from time, their abilities only a wisp of what they had once been. To save their kingdom, they'd had no choice but to send their young prince, as requested, to try and figure out a way to maintain the peace.

Zen tapped the top of the table again, drawing Qi's attention back to it as he continued writing.

"I think we should go talk to him."

He knew that his master didn't want to, but he needed to know why he'd given him such spiritual power to begin with... and why darkness instead of light?

When he looked up, Qi had his lips pursed and was looking at the table solemnly.

"You're right. I don't want you anywhere near him, but maybe he can help us figure out what had happened all those years ago, too. It seems like he may know something about you that I don't," he said, making Zen's eyes widen in surprise.

He hadn't even thought about that, since it had been nearly sixteen years since he'd met his master and they had both lost their memories during that moment in time. Qi had been around fourteen when it had happened, while he had been six. The memories he had from directly after the incident were foggy, at best, but he would never forget the sharp pains from the rocks that had been thrown at him. He had lifted his bloody arms to see the gashes upon them, confused and crying. He couldn't even remember why he had been in the wealthy district in the first place, considering that he likely had not even had a cent to his name, judging from the dirty and tattered clothing he'd been found wearing.

He likely would have been pushed from the city by the other children if Qi hadn't been passing by and decided to stop them. His master's advisors had not been very keen on his actions, but he had refused to listen to them. What had happened next was a blur to both of them, but Zen eventually awoke several days later in a dungeon cell with his wrists tightly shackled to the wall, his chest feeling uncomfortably cold, and rats trying to nibble at his bare toes.

He managed to kick them away, but when no one came to see him in the damp, dark dungeon besides the rare servant offering stale bread and water, he realized that maybe the rats weren't so bad. He became terribly lonely, and didn't even understand why he'd been locked up to begin with.

But then things began to slowly change...

Qi appeared, clearly dressed for a meeting with other royalty. It appeared like he was actually sneaking about, though that was such an unlikely thing to think of when concerning someone so high in society. He had no reason to sneak. Yet when he returned after that first short, silent visit, for a second one, he still did not have a guard or advisor with him.

He didn't come often, at first, but as time went on, he would find his way to Zen's cell more frequently. Sometimes he would talk to him. Ask him questions about what had happened, saying that his advisors would consider letting him go if he could just give him a reasonable answer... but he had no answer, nor any way to convey it. He could no longer remember a time where he was able to speak, and he had been far too poor to have been educated enough to write.

Even though he could do nothing to help, he ended up looking forward to the older boy's visits.

They maintained their simple relationship until Qi appeared some two months after Zen had first been locked up. He had clearly noticed that his weight was decreasing, but had also noted that there was bread near him should he have wanted to eat. Zen had not wished to. For some odd reason he didn't understand, his body just didn't require much sustenance, and eating too much, even if it were simply just some pieces of stale bread, made him feel quite queasy.

He could not convey that he wasn't truly hungry, however, so from that day onward, Qi took it upon himself to bring him something different to try every time he managed to sneak into the dungeons.

The first item was an apple. It was just a simple fruit and Zen had not been hungry when it had been offered to him through the dirty bars, but because the boy had taken the time to get it for him, he obliged and bowed his head slowly in respect for his thoughtfulness, then managed to eat a small portion of it.

The light that shone in Qi's eyes from that point onward was something that drew Zen like a moth to the brightest of flames. Over the next several months Zen refused to eat the stale bread, and would only eat what Qi brought and drink if it was offered by the boy.

All of the dungeon guards, by that point, knew of Qi's little trips to see the strange little boy, and would just let him do as he wished. He could not open the cell door, and the smaller boy was clearly still not doing well. They would let their master think that he was helping, and then when the smaller boy passed away, it would simply be what was meant to be.

They went on that way for nearly a year before Qi suddenly stopped appearing. Zen would wait and listen, watch and hope... but the older boy would not return. By the time a month had passed his body was struggling. Most humans would have been dead long ago, but he still had just enough fight in him to push himself up to his bony feet.

The chains rattled stiffly as he moved, rusted from age. As he looked down at the disfigured key hole, he felt a faint, warm breeze brush against his cheek. It made little sense to his exhausted, starved mind, but he was fine with that. In fact, if he could just grab hold of that little bit of wind and make it turn the mechanism to unlock his chains...

Before his mind finished processing the idea, it had been done. The chain holding his right wrist clattered to the ground, revealing raw, infected skin from the months he had been bound. The wound had long since gone numb from damage, making him ignore it to turn his attention to his other shackled hand.

That binding, too, had been undone with just a simple thought, leaving him free of his restraints. Turning on unsteady dirty feet, he had walked to the door to his cell. The old lock was a little more complicated, but Zen had been patient. He'd had nothing else to do, and nowhere else he wanted to go except to find the boy who had visited him so many times. This time, he would go visit him. Perhaps that would make him happy, and remind him that he had someone waiting who found solace in the tiny bits of time he'd allotted him.

The lock clicked open nearly an hour after he'd set his attention on it. His arm had slowly risen to remove it from its latch, then push the door outward. It took a lot of effort, considering how malnourished he was, but he refused to let his weak body stop him.

Carefully, he trudged his way through the dungeons, listening to the wind as it guided his frail body forward. His eyes closed as exhaustion pulled at his mind, but he refused to relent and pulled the warm wind even closer to him to guide his way.

His eyes didn't open again until he felt strong gusts and fresh air envelop his tiny body. It was dawn, with the sun just barely beginning to rise in the distance. Several guards from the dungeon were surrounding him, whips and swords drawn and ready, yet he paid them no mind. He did not wish to visit them... only the young prince.

The first strike of a whip had him staggering forward from the impact across his back. He would have fallen. Should have fallen, yet the wind refused to allow it. He remained standing, even as blood dripped down his back and soaked his tattered clothing. Two more hits struck him as he walked, his footsteps eventually outlining themselves in red as he moved.

He wasn't sure where he was really going, but the warm wind around him would not be swayed. It guided him forward for what felt like forever. More hits came, more blood soaked the ground where he walked, yet when his body finally was no longer able to hold itself up, and the gentle breeze had died down to a faint rustle in his hair, a pair of strong, yet-gentle arms caught him.

"I am so very sorry that I did not return sooner, little one," came the familiar voice of the young prince.

Zen was settled against Qi's chest as he easily lifted his light body, much to the disagreement of those around him.

"I do not care what kind of circumstances had brought us together in the past. I refuse to allow this boy to suffer any longer. My father has finally permitted that he be released and serve as my personal servant," Qi had said as his free hand gently patted Zen's unruly, grimy hair. "No one is allowed to harm a single hair on his head from hence forth. Anyone who does, will pay with their lives."

He had turned then, and carried Zen straight back to his home, calling for the royal physician to meet him there.

"Zen?"

Blinking out of his memories, Zen looked up as his master. A piece of pear pressed against his lips as Qi smiled down at him.

"One more, for me?" he asked, making Zen immediately part his lips to take the three small bites the fruit required to be eaten.

He got a soft pat to his hair as a reward, and it meant the world to him.

"Let's get dressed and head out before we are called upon for something else, hmm?" Qi said, drawing a nod from Zen as he stood.

He hoped that the prince would see them, and considering how much he had already meddled, Zen suspected that he would be more than happy to have his quarry walk right through his open doorway.