Tortoise and Fox [BL]

4.1

But what Leishan wanted was not Amari.

Rattling metal followed the bare soles of Amari's feet—and a chain dragged beneath his simple, silver robes. Cold, tawny brown skin reflected icy and dull as he walked through stony temple. He was but a speck in a vast, echoing auditorium. Chains upon chains upon chains snaked through every room—his ankles lurched with rhythmic yanks as he pulled the harsh weight forward through the cracked concrete floors. Brambles and tree roots broke in from beneath and added a barren thorniness. Weighty pillars towered above, before connecting to a sky-high cage of a ceiling.

Amari was unwelcome here. He was never welcome. He did not belong.

"Now, Caller."

Brown eyes refocused on the silver uniform speaking to him. The features of the man had no relevance to him. He looked away—to what stood at the cross-path of the temple. He traced the stony scales weaving in and out. A long, swimming mane—a fierce growling roar. The dragon lorded over him, as if about to dive down and drag him to the floor. An impatient foot-tap hammered away into the ground.

His lips twitched into a frown, as he closed his eyes. The delicate, pale string of water spun beneath the blindness of his physical senses. The water ran through the infinite path of his mind. It always pulsed between every surface of the world, but it took Amari several minutes to hone in and narrow down his concentration to a needlepoint.

No matter where his line of sight went, the veil of water always ran behind. He reached his hand out, carefully inching close, his fingers barely about to graze its flowing path. The space between his skin and cool, rushing rivers was near negligible, save for Amari himself feeling the mist brush against his fingertips.

"Amari, I missed you."

His hand paused at the sound of the low, silken voice scratching his ears. The dragon statue shook its body and leaped off its pedestal in the darkness of his mind. It coiled up his torso with an energetic curl, before twisting around his feet. If Amari could, he would block away the presence, keep it from continuing to pester him—no matter how unwise that would be.

"Leave me. I must focus."

"How can I leave," he laughed lowly, "it is my power you call upon. You are still here, in this temple?"

The frown was evident in the colder tone of his voice. Amari closed his fingers into a tight fist.

"So what if I am?"

"Let me save you—you don't belong there. Just tell me where you are."

Amari barked a scoffing laugh, "Spare me your pity, Leishan. Or do you really find so much joy in trying to raise me up in wake of our past lives?"

Leishan fell silent. But the presence—the graze of cool, slicked scales swiping past his elbows. And then, the mixing of fur, rubbing against his side—was painfully alive. The temple guard's foot banged away in his ears.

Tap. Tap,tap. Tap,tap. Tap,tap.

The reverberation of hard soles tore away at his concentration. His eyelids trembled. His hand crashed into the gentle stream—its soft-streaming slither betrayed by a harsh spray of water. A loud, thundering boom clapped. The temple floor rumbled beneath them, as if the earth awakened from a deep, repressed slumber. Rainwater soon followed, dripping down through the roof in large drops.

He opened his eyes, thin lips pressed together. The dragon was once more stone.

"I called down a storm," Amari said.