The Emperor and The Dragon

The Musician

(Play video above on loop for a better reading experience.)

Long Ago, As the She-Dragon landed by the Imperial Palace's Gardens, she hid herself among the bushes.

There, she hid her horns beneath her skull, and peeled off her feathers and skin. As she shedded the last of her skin, she could now see human skin instead of her feathers.

As she had finished, instead of a Dragon curling itself around a low tree, a beautiful woman sat beneath the tree.

Her beautiful sky-blue locks, that clashed with pinks, purples, and blues at the end of her hair.

The white robes that covered her human body made her look that of a nobleman's daughter.

Wrapped around her shoulders is a scarf made out of the finest feathers. 

Laan-Mei looks at her dark, tanned skin in surprise.

The last time she had been a human imposter, her skin was as white as snow, and as pale as a corpse beneath the Waters.

Maybe it had been a while since she had used this magic, that her human skin beneath her feathers turned darker when she had been flying above the clouds. The Sun may have colored her skin.

Nonetheless, she loved it.

Human is human, no matter the color of their flesh.

As she tightly held the Kou-Toh on her arms, she marched to the Imperial Palace's doors to be the Emperor's musician.

Months had passed, and the She-Dragon played music for the Emperor.

No doubt, her melodies were like no other. As she played behind a woven bamboo screen, the Emperor would tend to his duties.

Granted, Laan-Mei was far from disappointed. Even though she, nor the Emperor had exchanged words or casted a glance to one another, silence was their best chemistry.

The Emperor had never seen his Musician's face. The bamboo screen made it impossible. Though, there were some times that the Emperor would wonder and was even tempted to pull the screen back to finally see the face of the person that had made him calm on so many occasions.

But he never seemed to have the determination to find out. He would always brush off his thoughts as pointless thinking and desire.

He heard word from his Advisers that behind the screen was a very, frail old man that had been raised by the beasts of the Mountains, and the music he played was the same songs the beasts had taught him a long time ago.

He overheard from one of his servants that the Musician is actually a beautiful woman, with the most beautiful of sun-kissed skin, and the loveliest of blue hair.

He heard from a passing raven that the Musician is but a mere boy who grew up with a Maiden of the Waters and have came to the Imperial Palace as a gift from the beasts.

No matter which rumor was real, the Emperor would always find himself standing in front of the bamboo screen that stood between him and his Musician.

His hand would reach out, but he would then shake his head and walk away.

Tonight, the Emperor sat down as he tended to his duties.

The time was of to be one o'clock in the morning now, yet the man didn't cease to drop his pen.

His ears perked as the sounds of the plucking of the strings stopped.

His eyes trail over to the bamboo screen. 

Why had his dearest Musician stopped?

The Emperor stopped writing, as he hears the sound of shuffling from behind the screen.

The sound of a match filled his ears, as the person behind the screen brought the lit fire to a lamp.

The lamp's flame flickered. The light casted the shadow of his Musician.

For the first time, the Emperor could see his Musician's silhouette behind the screen.

He could see the robes she wore, and her long hair that had reached down, as she sat on a cushion on the floor.

The sound of strumming met his ears again, but was even more suprised when she began to softly sing.

This was the first time he had ever heard her voice. The Musician never sang! Only played music with the strings their instrument provided.

What could be the occasion for her to sing?

The Emperor found himself relaxing his tense shoulders as he leaned back to his chair.

His mind focuses on her soft voice. Not too loud, not too brash. As if her voice was the perfect melody to listen to in a late evening.

She sang about a wonderful life in the Mountains with the beasts. The song she sang was a poem. A story.

About a lonely Emperor who ran away to the Mountains and had befriended the beasts that dwell there. The Emperor was happy and had lived in the Mountains with his new friends to make merry with, for ever.

"And he closed his eyes. His wish for true happiness, granted." The song ended, and only the sound of strumming was left.

"Are you saying that only happiness is found when you bond with the beasts?" The Emperor spoke.

The strumming stop, and the silhouette of the Musician tensed up.

Clearing her throat, her form from behind the screen shook her head, rattling the dangling pins on her hair.

"No, Your Majesty." She replies curtly.

"Then decipher the words for me." The young Emperor ordered.

"The Emperor in the song...is a lonely man. He couldn't find happiness inside the Palace walls. He runs away to the Mountains and meets the beasts who treat him, not as a Monarch, but as normal person." The Musician explained. The Emperor did not answer, so she took this as a sign to continue.

"Time passes, and the Emperor finally realizes he was lonely all along because....he never had any friends. The beasts treated him as friend and he has never been happier in all his years. He realizes that having someone to stay by your side, is true happiness." 

"I see." The Emperor finally spoke again. "You are dismissed for the night." 

"Thank you, Your Majesty." And with those words, the Musician blew out the flame of the lamp.