I remembered how quickly the storm came. The thunder, the gathering clouds and then torrents upon torrents of rain. The surge in the ether we'd caused -that I'd caused- brought such a fury upon the sky that the clashing ships found themselves not only fighting each other, but also nature itself.

Kassashimei, Ren Tzu and I lay adrift in the swelling seas. I remembered the comforting embrace of my guardian as he kept us close, protecting us from the rising waves. Rescue boats from the mainland swarmed about, picking up survivors. The beam from their search lights swung like swords in the darkness until one of them pointed in our direction.

How pitiful I was, unable to swim, barely able to move, and worse still, I found myself suddenly weakened. The strangeness of it all left me wondering. Surely, guiding the ship as I did was an incredible act, but it was one that Kassashimei and I did together, and I could not see how it had left me in the state I was, paralyzed with fatigue. Stranger still, Kassashimei seemed fine as both she and my guardian struggled to keep me afloat. I strained to keep her shadowy face in view. She was watching over me without a single trace of panic or fear. There was only a warm mixture of concern and pride, like a mother reminiscing the noble deeds of her child. I managed a smile, which prompted her to press her forehead against mine.

She whispered, "it's time to go home."

The last few things I saw that night was a rescue boat steaming our way and a wave surging towards us. And when it crashed against our huddled bodies, Kassashimei and I were pressed under and it tore us away from Ren Tzu's grasp. I heard his muddled voice calling out to us as we sank into the depths.

There were blurry images.

The sounds of children.

The murmur and steady clatter of people going about their day. And then I heard the familiar melody of strings being plucked and played. I blinked away the haziness in my eyes to find myself lying in a single-room hut, looking out a doorless entrance at a young girl perched outside another hut across the way. An elderly man was teaching her to strum a shamisen. I strained to keep my eyes opened, but the afternoon light from the open doorway threatened to blind me.

There was a much older-looking woman in the corner, hunched over a boiling pot atop a small, iron stove. She noticed I was awake and shuffled towards me, then pulled a wet cloth from a water basin beside the bed and dabbed my forehead, all the while soothing me with mumbled words.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. My vision grew hazy again, my eyelids heavy. Before my eyes closed again I caught a glimpse of another girl with a basket of vegetables stepping into the hut. She asked about me, and the old lady replied to her in a solemn tone. Then her face hovered curiously over mind.

It was Kassashimei; smiling.

When I regained consciousness again, I felt strong enough to sit up. I even dared a chance to pull myself out of bed and ambled slowly towards the doorway. As I came outside, I shielded my eyes from the piercing sun and braced myself against the wall, afraid that I would lose my footing at any moment. I found myself in a small village made of scattered straw and wood huts, all of which sat close to the sea. Several narrow piers lined the beach where a number of boats and draped netting lay tied. People walked by, politely glancing in my direction, all-the-while offering me the courtesy of a slight bow.

The old lady was sweeping at the bottom of the steps to the hut's entrance when she realized that I was out of bed. She started to mumble again and placed her wrinkled hands on my shoulders, gently ushering me back inside.

"Auntie it's okay." Kassashimei came around the side, the same smiling look adorning her face. "If he's well enough to come outside then I'm sure he can walk around with me for a while. Besides, it's a nice day today and he shouldn't be wasting it in bed."

The old lady gave a reluctant grunt then shooed me away before going inside.

"C'mon Terr, I want to show you something."

We proceeded down the beach. She walked in earnest, several paces ahead of me, casually swinging around a dead branch she found lying in the sand.

"Kass, where are we?" I asked , trying my best to keep up.

"We're in a place called Sparrow Village. It's on a tiny island close to the capital." She stopped and pointed her stick out across the water. "Look."

In the distance, the capital could be clearly seen. Its enormous docks and towering buildings smothered the horizon like an enormous canvas of steel and concrete. Further off, the peaks of Mount Ko Mei, where the Imperial Temple resided, lay shrouded in thick, white clouds.

"We were picked up by one of the village's fishing boats."

"And the old lady took care of us?"

"She prefers to be called Auntie; and yes, she did. You should thank her when we get back."

She was still looking out over the water when I realized when I realized how different she seemed. She had more energy than usual, and when she turned to continue down the beach, she went with more enthusiasm than I was accustomed to seeing. It was as if this was the very place she wanted to be, like a lost bird that had finally found its nest.

At the far end of the beach, nestled amongst the trees, we came upon and old, abandoned temple. It was built against the side of a steep hill, but a few of the stone supports that held it upright had broken in some places, causing it to lean slightly to the side. Thick overgrowth had claimed much of the building. Rough, hard bushes sprouted from cracks in the stone steps leading up to the entrance and vines lay strewn about the wooden balconies and amongst the shattered roof tiles. The red paint that covered its walls had long since lost its glossy sheen and now remained dull and flaked.

"This temple belonged to my mother," Kassashimei said. "My father was in charge of another one far in the north."

She approached a faded stone carving at the base of the steps. It was in the shape of a feral beat that looked like a tiger, partially hidden by long, coiling vines. Her hand shook as she reached up and touched the statue with the tips of her fingers.

"Where are your parents now?" I asked.

She remained silent, as if pretending to be oblivious to my question, then proceeded up to the temple, tapping the branch against the steps as she ascended. I trailed behind her, straining to move my weakened legs up the hill.

"Did you know that I was born sick?"

"No, I didn't"

"Well I was." She stopped for a moment to let me catch up. "I had so many brothers and sisters, but of all of them, I turned out to be both the youngest and the weakest. There were some days when I had to stay in bed. Sometimes I couldn't go outside at all. While my siblings went on to do amazing things with their lives, I had to stay behind with my mother. Even though I couldn't do anything on my own, I didn't want to bare the thought of her taking care of me. I was so angry back then. I yelled at her, insulted her; I even blamed her for giving birth to me. She cried a lot. Probably because she felt sorry for me. But that made me even angrier.

I asked her once if my existence held any meaning at all. She promised me there was. She said the spirits brought me into the world believing that I would be just as important as any of my brothers and sisters."

We finally came to the top of the steps and stopped at the entrance. One of the large double doors was unhinged and lay unceremoniously on the floor while the other remained open, creaking at the push of the slightest breeze.

"I called her a liar," she said, "and threw a bowl at her."

"Is that the way you really felt? I mean, you did get better. You're here right now, with me, and you look healthier than ever."

She struck the branch against the floor, snapping it in two.

"Of all the pain and resentment I felt while I was with my mother, none of it was worse than the regret I suffered afterwards."

We remained at the village for weeks. Kassashimei was in no hurry to leave, and truthfully, neither was I. Auntie was all-too-happy to take care of us. The way she treated us -the way everyone in the village treated us- was like living my old life again. In their eyes, we were not chienkuu ko and we were not servants of the Imperial Family. We were no one special. We were simply just children.

News eventually came, boasting the heroic battle of our forces against the cowardly enemy. We had beaten them back, the radio said, and their so-called super bomb, would never fall on Rui Nan soil. The news, however, never admitted that our own forces had been completely decimated, and that the enemy ships turned back only because of the bad weather.

That truth would be only be revealed to the people of Rui Nan after the war.

However, there was one sad bit of news they were willing share: With enormous reverence, they announced the honorable death of Lord General Fung. With great detail, they spoke of his ship laying to waste over a dozen of the enemy's vessels until finally ramming headlong into their flagship, sacrificing himself for our country and its people. Whether or not he truly did destroy a dozen ships, I could not say, but I knew that he was not the one responsible for attacking the flagship. But every now and then, as I glanced at the golden crane insignia pinned to his cloak at the side of my bed I felt, that for such a man as him, I was willing, -if a bit reluctant- to allow and accept such a grand lie. The capital gave him a state funeral and most of the country regarded his passing with solemn admiration. In Jade Village, however, Kassashimei and I lived as best we could with little care as to the events that concerned the world.

Some days we went with the boats to fish, while others, we helped Auntie plant vegetables in her garden. Every afternoon, we went with the children to school and sometimes, afterwards, we played in the ocean. Kassashimei seemed especially happy. She challenged me to foot races up and down the beach, and every now and then she let me win. She even begged the elderly man in the hut across from us to teach her how to play the shamisen. Of course, it was not long before she dragged me along, demanding that I learn to play with her.

She had a particular glow about her that left me in wonder, as she seemed carefree, always smiling. Whether it was climbing trees or dabbling in pottery or even playing pranks on other people, she was always quick to tug me along into whatever whims that interested her. Still, in the back of my mind, I knew that these times were fleeting.

Though I had gotten better, the day finally came when I was reminded of the curse that accompanied my silver eyes. I became sick again. It wasn't sudden like before. I suppose, in a strange sort of way, it was more merciful this time. There was a dizzying feeling at first that sometimes caused an unexpected fall or a mild headache when I woke up. But as it grew, I felt it slowly chipping away at me. I climbed the trees until I was no longer able to climb. I raced across the beach with Kassashimei until I was too weak to run anymore. I watched, laughing playfully as she strummed clumsily at her shamisen, constantly getting scolded by her teacher, trying to ignore the fact that I no longer had the focus to play along with her. Eventually, even the laughter stopped. Then, in the same manner I had found myself when I first came to the village, I was back in the bed again.

Kassashimei stayed beside me everyday, leaving only to run errands and do chores. Though I had faced this sickness before, I could never overcome the fear that came with it. Death was looming once more, and I wondered if this was truly it, if the moment of my passing was finally near.