The Lamb and the Gray Battle

September 17, 1990

Knox was in a fog. The words weren't in English, but he was locked to this creature, felt the bumps on her skin, the cracks on her lips. Her throat was on fire and her head blared. There was no alcohol here, but this insane creature was just as drunk.

Somehow, he understood that this creature, Mary, didn't recognize her betrothed as the monster King Ao Guang. The names blended into each other, Dear Ren, Mam, BoBo, Madame Long. The faces were phantoms before his eyes.

In the vision, Mary was happy. She was rainbows and sunshine, smiles all day long. Dear Ren held her by the hand and the two danced and sang, but Dear Ren didn't sing very well and his movements were stiff when he tried to dance. His ears turned red when Mary laughed at him. The two played and talked of the hundreds of children they were going to have when the got married.

"January sixth, fourteen-forty-six," Dear Ren said very matter-of-factly. The castle was gray and cold, but the pair didn't notice. "You will be my wife, Qizi."

"I'm your wife now, Zhangfu."

"Yes," Dear Ren said, his human fingers soft and long, his black eyes gleaming. When she looked deep into them, flecks of gold floated through the pupils. He wore black robes that were organized and proper and he kept his posture straight. His hair was alive as hers was, but his hair behaved, was knotted on the top of his head. His little back was firm and his arms strong. He couldn't have been more than ten, but then, Knox wasn't really sure and his mind was swimming.

The pair were on a different path. They were beyond the walls of the Fortress. Dear Ren was taller and ran faster, but Mary chased after him, grabbed his robe. She apologized for tearing it. Madame Long was going to be mad.

"Yuemu will fix it," he said.

Another time, Dear Ren's face was covered with tears. He showed her his hands, his human hands. He scrunched his forehead up, forced the claw out of his finger, grunted to hold it, but couldn't. Then he wailed.

"I'm here, Dear Ren," Mary cried, pressing her head to his chest. Hers was the voice of a toddler, muddled, but definite. "I'm never leaving you."

This juvenile Dear Ren stroked her hair, snuffled up his tears.

"Madame Long is awful."

Dear Ren put a finger over her lips. "I have to be strong. Niang is—"

"I hate her!" Mary screamed, pushing Dear Ren away.

"You do not," he said.

He hugged little Mary to him. A few breaths and the child Dear Ren was calm.

"What would I do without you?" He lifted her up, put her on his hip and carried her back to the Fortress.

Another shift, thunder and lightning. A wand was drawn. Mam whipped wind and glass crashed. Gran slashed a sword at her daughter.

"Go play," Mam said to the pair.

Mary tore against Dear Ren's hand. She was almost as tall as he was, but he jerked her back.

"You always obey," she shouted at him.

"You should sit through more of Laoshi's classes," Dear Ren said, his black robes swishing around his legs.

Outside, Dear Ren attacked her, initiated a wrestling match. Mary shrieked, "No fair!"

He leaped on top of her and she flipped him to the ground, pinned him down. Then he was on top again, then her. They hit a tree and rolled down a hill. Mary was too young to transform into anything and Dear Ren couldn't hold form for longer than a minute, but the two continued to battle.